"Good morning, mother," said Cappen politely.
Hildigund thrust back a scream.
"Come and be eaten," said the troll-wife.
"No, thank you," said Cappen, regretfully but firmly. "'Twould be ill for my health. No, I will but trouble you for a firebrand and then the princess and I will be off."
"If you think that stupid bit of silver will protect you, think again," she snapped. "Your three sentences were all that saved you last night. Now I hunger."
"Silver," said Cappen didactically, "is a certain shield against all black magics. So the wizard told me, and he was such a nice white-bearded old man I am sure even his attendant devils never lied. Now please depart, mother, for modesty forbids me to dress before your eyes."
The hideous face thrust close to his. He smiled dreamily and tweaked her nose—hard.
She howled and flung the torch at him. Cappen caught it and stuffed it into her mouth. She choked and ran from the room.
"A new sport—trollbaiting," said the bard gaily into the sudden darkness. "Come, shall we not venture out?"
The girl trembled too much to move. He comforted her, absentmindedly, and dressed in the dark, swearing at the clumsy leggings. When he left, Hildigund put on her clothes and hurried after him.