As they ran downhill at the best pace the old Elf could manage, Haloch muttered beneath his breath. ‘That sound you hear is Trolls! Howling to each other because they are hunting something, curse them! Would that this Book wasn’t so much dead weight! I would teach them a thing or two, instead of sneaking around in the trees like a common thief. Where in the Kingdom is there a Loremaster when you need one?’
They froze suddenly, almost stumbling over each other as they caught sight of a small, dark shape passing through the mist from tree to tree, lower down the hill, and directly across their path. They could hear heavy footfalls behind them now. The howls were replaced by loud whispers, which sounded very much like the dreadful soughing of wind in a cave.
The small, dark shape detached itself from the tree it was hiding behind, and moved purposefully towards them in a crouch. The two Elves stood ready to fight or flee, but something in the shape’s slight size and demeanour caused them to watch its approach instead. When it was thirty feet or so from them, they saw clearly that it was no troll. But what Haloch saw gave him no reassurance.
‘If you mean to betray our presence to the trolls,’ he said, ‘then you’d do better to stay well away from my wrath.’