The Scrolls of Skava

The Ruby Keep - Part 4

     They made camp in the same place they’d stopped the previous night, but now they were much more watchful and alert than they’d been before. They now had the Scrolls of Skava to guard, possibly the most important objects in the world at the moment, and nothing could be allowed to happen to them. They sat guard two at a time, therefore, one of the watchers having the casket containing the scrolls by his side at all times to make absolutely sure it was safe.

     At around midnight, Arroc found himself on guard with Thomas. The wizard had the casket in his lap and was thoughtfully running his fingers around the carvings on its lid as he silently pondered what was inside. It was a still, quiet night, disturbed only by the occasional cry of a night bird, and there was plenty of time to think. Arroc had a lot to think about, but no matter how many times he ran them around in his head he was unable to make any sense of them, so eventually he went over to Thomas and sat down beside him. Wizards were supposed to know a lot. Perhaps he could help.

     “Thomas,” he said therefore, “what’s a throwback?”

     “What?” said the wizard with a start, jolted out of his thoughts.

     “What’s a throwback?” repeated the trog a little louder.

     “A throwback?” said Thomas in confusion. “I’ve got no idea. You’re using the word as a noun rather than a verb, aren’t you? An object called a throwback rather than the act of throwing something back?”

     “That’s right,” agreed the trog, although he had no idea what nouns and verbs were.

     “Never heard of it,” said the wizard with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry.”

     “It’s an agricultural term, isn’t it?” said Teasel, coming forward to sit with them.

     “You’re supposed to be asleep,” protested Thomas. “You’re on watch in two hours.”

     “Who can sleep with you two rabbiting on? Besides, we nomes need less sleep than you humans.”

     “So what’s a throwback?” repeated Arroc, concerned that the conversation might drift too far away from the subject.

     “Well,” said Teasel, “you know that you can breed animals and plants to make them bigger and tastier and so on.”

     “So?”

     “Well sometimes, for no apparent reason, a seed will grow or an animal be born that resembles the distant ancestor from which it was cultivated. They’re called throwbacks, because they’ve been ‘thrown back’ to their ancestors, so to speak.”

     Arroc stared at her in stunned amazement. “Throwback,” he said dreamily.

     “Why?” asked Thomas. “Where did you hear the word?”

     “Back in the Ruby Keep,” replied the trog. “When I were awake and the rest of you were asleep, when those people came ter carry us off. They were dressed in some kind of uniform, like they were members of the castle staff, and they were chatting with each other. One of them called me a throwback trog.”

     He paused, a look of joyful amazement on his face. “There’s a theory held by some trogs that all the humanoid races are descended from a common ancestor, that trogs are descended from a race that walked on the surface just like humans and the shae folk. That we were taller in those days and skinnier and had hairy bodies. Could that be it? Is that why I look different from other trogs? Oh don’t deny it, I’ve always known I look different. That’s why some people think I were born as a result of my mother having had an affair with a human. They were wrong. They were all wrong! My mother never dishonoured ma father. I’ve always said so. She were faithful ter him all her life!”