Free Nemesis and the Troll King by Ashley Du Toit Page B

explained.
    Gesturing to the Nuffins to follow, he walked calmly towards the entrance to the markets while warily watching the men who guarded it. Yarg followed, walking a little quicker to catch up with the centaur.
    â€œHalt!” one of the guards growled at them.
    The entire group froze in their tracks.
    â€œThose Nuffins are not welcome here,” the guard continued menacingly.
    Drawing himself up, Yarg announced, “I am Yarg, King of the Trolls, and these Nuffins are under my protection.”
    The guard seemed a little confused by Yarg’s authoritative statement. Probably not used to anyone standing up to him, Yarg thought.
    â€œWe’ll need to check with the Market Manager,” the guard said uncertainly. He gestured to his partner, who turned and stepped through the entrance. The air shimmered slightly, then seemed to swallow the werewolf.
    The second guard was gone for some time, during which Yarg continued to hold himself royally, and Folgoo pinned the Nuffins with a glare that warned them not to step out of line. They squirmed a little under his gaze, but did nothing to attract the remaining werewolf’s ire.
    When the guard returned, it was with permission from the Market Manager for the Nuffins to enter, but only on the condition that Yarg make good any trouble or damage they caused.
    Nodding his head regally to indicate his acceptance of this, Yarg strode past the guards with a confidence he did not entirely feel. Folgoo followed, also holding himself confidently, if a little amused at Yarg’s show. The Nuffins bounced through the archway, giving the werewolves a cheeky wave as they passed.
    With no noticeable interruption to their steps, the little band was suddenly in the markets.
    All was noise and colour. Before them stretched banks of tables laden with wares of many kinds. The stalls nearest to them displayed colourful rugs and blankets, others a little further along had jars of glittering dust. All different kinds of immortals moved busily through aisles, some haggling over prices with sellers, others just browsing.
    Folgoo put his hand on Yarg’s shoulder. “Bemoomba said that Urdelyn would be at the far side of the markets,” he reminded Yarg.
    Yarg nodded and headed further into the markets, so intent on his task and bemused by the activity around him that he quite forgot the line of Nuffins trailing behind.
    Yarg scanned the stalls as he went, not taking much interest until a table of condiments caught his eye. He stopped abruptly. In the midst of jars of fresh earwax and belly button fluff, he saw a bottle of thick black toenails. He arched his eyebrows at the elf behind the table. Noticing Yarg’s interest, she held them up to give him a closer look.
    â€œFresh troll toenails,” she pronounced proudly.
    Yarg growled at her, then shook his head in disgust and walked off. “Who would want to buy troll’s toenails?” he muttered.
    Folgoo sniggered at Yarg’s displeasure. “A lot of beings eat troll’s toenails. They’re not a main meal, of course, more an appetiser, but I think the question you should be asking is how do they get those toenails?”
    Yarg gritted his teeth, irritated by the amusement in Folgoo’s voice. “I don’t think I want to know,” he replied.
    Just then a few goblins strolled by, one of them eating a fat curly spider that looked to have been freshly fried. As it passed him, the goblin stood on Yarg’s foot.
    Yarg tried not to wince as his foot was squashed into the ground, but Folgoo noticed and laughed out loud. Yarg scowled at him, then pushed forward faster, even though his foot throbbed.
    To add to his woes, a pixie, showing her goods to a potential customer, opened an umbrella as Yarg walked past, almost ripping his nose off with one of the spines. “Oops, sorry,” she muttered as he grabbed his offended nose.
    Yarg growled deep in his throat as another snicker came