Big Rock and the Masked Avenger Page 4

  Big Rock stumbled back, feeling pain and being momentarily blinded.

  Aggro was cheating. Big Rock had expected that; orcs always cheated. But the claw in his eye had caught him by surprise.

  Aggro took advantage of Big Rock being blinded and launched an attack, kicking and punching. Under the weight of the blows and kicks, Big Rock lost his balance and fell to the canvas, but just managed to roll clear in time as Aggro dropped onto the space where the troll had been lying.

  Big Rock ended up by the edge of the ring, and as his vision cleared he found himself looking at the angry face of Lord Veto.

  ‘You’re not losing, troll!’ snarled Lord Veto in a harsh whisper. ‘You’ve got one minute to lose this fight, or I send Warg to kill your friend.’

  ‘You kill Milo, I kill you!’ warned Big Rock.

  Suddenly Big Rock felt his ankles grabbed and he was pulled back into the centre of the ring by the orc. Aggro released his grip on Big Rock’s ankles, and suddenly jumped hard on Big Rock’s back. Big Rock felt one of his rock ribs break.

  Ow! he thought. Then he said to himself: must keep going for Milo’s sake.

  * * *

  Jack and Robin turned, and saw with a shock that there were indeed six huge Wrestling Orcs who’d crept up silently behind them.

  ‘Lord Veto noticed that you weren’t in your troll’s corner,’ said the leading orc. ‘So he sent us down in case you were thinking of trying something silly.’

  ‘Like freeing your friend from the dungeons,’ said another of the orcs.

  ‘So, are you going to arrest them?’ asked Bill.

  ‘Arrest them?’ chuckled one of the orcs. ‘Orcs don’t arrest people.’

  ‘We eat them!’ said another nastily.

  With that, the orcs snarled, showing their sharp teeth, and flexed their claws as they moved towards Jack and Robin.

  This is it, thought Jack, his heart sinking. After all these years, finally I stand up to Lord Veto and his orcs, and I’m going to be killed! And eaten! He’d seen orcs in a fighting frenzy. There’d be nothing left of him after this but bones!

  Jack backed away, and as he did so he began to experience the same odd sensation he’d felt just before Warg had thrown him into the puddle: a kind of mist began to fill his mind, crystals began to appear before his eyes, and he felt a shuddering sensation pumping through his arms and legs.

  Robin rose up on his hind legs again, waving his forefeet at the orcs.

  ‘You think you can eat me?’ he demanded. ‘I’m too tough for you! And I’ll take at least three of you with me! These horseshoes are made of solid iron!’

  To his delight, and surprise, the orcs stopped, and he saw worried looks appear on their faces.

  Got you! he thought. Scared of an old horse, eh!

  And then he noticed that they weren’t looking at him, but over his head at something high up behind him.

  Puzzled, Robin turned, and let out a gasp. There, where Jack had been standing was … well, a troll. But more than an ordinary troll. This one was huge, bigger even than Big Rock, and looked to be made of solid stone all the way up to …

  Robin gaped.

  The head of the troll wasn’t a normal troll’s head. It was large and made of some sort of stone, but there was something … human-looking about it. And, as Robin watched, the troll’s mouth opened and a roar came out, a huge terrifying roar. The orcs took a step back, their mouths open in awe. And then the huge troll moved forwards, faster than Robin had ever seen a troll move. The troll’s fists flashed once, twice, three times … and three of the orcs were suddenly lying unconscious on the floor.

  Bang! Another lash of a fist, and a fourth orc crumpled to the ground.

  That was too much for the remaining two orcs. They turned and ran. As did Bill and Ben, the two guards.

  ‘What’s happening?’ demanded Milo from behind the dungeon door.

  ‘I’ll tell you in a minute,’ said Robin. ‘Where’s the key to the door?’

  ‘The guards have got it,’ said Milo.

  Great, groaned Robin to himself.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Stand back. I’m going to try to kick it down.’

  Robin turned so that his back was to the door.

  One good strong kick, he told himself. It had been years since he’d done that sort of thing, but he was sure he still could. Even though the dungeon door looked pretty strong and thick. Still, they had to get Milo out, and this was obviously the only way.

  CRASH!

  Robin frowned. He hadn’t even moved, yet he heard a splintering sound behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

  The door to the dungeon lay in splinters.

  Milo came cautiously out from the dungeon, stepping over the broken bits of wood.

  ‘Wow!’ he said. ‘That was some powerful kick!’

  ‘That wasn’t me,’ said Robin. ‘It was him.’

  Milo turned, and saw the towering figure of the troll.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Milo.

  ‘Jack,’ said Robin.

  ‘Jack?’ asked Milo. ‘Jack who?’

  ‘Our Jack. The boy who cooks.’

  Milo stared at the huge powerful figure, stunned. The huge figure began to shrink and change … and suddenly Jack was standing there. He looked dazed.

  ‘What … what happened?’ he asked. He looked at the shattered dungeon door, and then at Milo and Robin. ‘Who did that?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Milo.

  ‘Which we’ll tell you later,’ said Robin. ‘Right now, jump on my back! We have to get back to the wrestling ring and save Big Rock!’

  Chapter 12

  Smash! Crash!

  Aggro’s head thudded into Big Rock’s face.

  The troll had been tangled up in the ropes by the orc, and although the referee had tried to intervene, Aggro had taken the opportunity to headbutt Big Rock twice before the referee ordered the orc away.

  Aggro walked around the ring, smirking and smiling, waving to his fans. There had still been no pinfalls or submissions, but the orc’s cheating tactics were starting to have an effect on Big Rock, wearing him down. As Big Rock struggled to free himself from the ropes, Aggro pointed to something outside the ring and the referee turned to look. While the referee’s back was turned, Aggro swung round and landed a vicious kick high on Big Rock’s chest, sending the troll right through the ropes and out of the ring.

  Big Rock’s supporters immediately sent up a chorus of boos and yells of, ‘Cheat! Cheat!’ while Aggro’s supporters yelled: ‘Out of the ring! Knockout!’

  The referee turned and saw Big Rock lying on the floor and began the count: ‘One. Two. Three. Four. Five … ’

  ‘Big Rock!’

  The troll pushed himself up, dazed, doing his best to focus, and saw that the person speaking to him was … Milo!

  ‘Milo?’ he said.

  ‘Yes!’ said Milo urgently. Behind Milo were Jack and Robin. ‘Now get back in the ring and finish this!’

  ‘Six!’ shouted the referee. ‘Seven! Eight!’

  Big Rock pushed himself to his feet, let out a roar that filled the whole of the tent, and leapt from outside the ring over the ropes, landing right in the centre.

  Aggro frowned, a look of doubt on the orc’s face. This shouldn’t be happening.

  Before Aggro could stop him, Big Rock had reached down, grabbed hold of the orc by the knees and then straightened, throwing Aggro as far and as hard as he could.

  This time it was the orc who sailed through the air, and he crashed down on the rows of audience, who just managed to scramble clear in time. The orc lay among the wreckage of the rows of seats and heard the referee begin the count: ‘One. Two. Three.’

  Aggro let out a snarl of anger and began to lurch upright, and then found that he couldn’t. One of his big claws had got caught under a long row of the wrecked seats, the metal bars trapping it.

  ‘Four. Five. Six.’

  ‘No!’ yelled Aggro, a
nd he began to tug at the metal holding him back.

  ‘Seven. Eight.’

  With a last burst of energy, Aggro lifted the metal bars and began to run back towards the ring, trampling over the audience in his mad rush to get back into it.

  ‘Nine … ’

  The orc was stretching to reach for the ropes as the referee’s voice called out: ‘Ten!’

  The audience erupted.

  ‘Yessss!’ yelled Milo and Jack, and then hugged one another and began to jump up and down.

  In the ring, the referee was holding up Big Rock’s arm and saying, ‘The winner: Big Rock!’ but no one could hear him over the massive amount of noise in the tent.

  As Milo, Big Rock, Jack and Robin headed towards the exit, they passed Lord Veto and Warg. Lord Veto glared at them with such anger that, if looks could kill, they would all have been dead on the spot.

  ‘This isn’t over!’ snarled Lord Veto.

  ‘I think it is,’ grinned Milo. ‘Unless you fancy a rematch – your champion against Big Rock?’

  Lord Veto scowled. As Milo, Big Rock, Jack and Robin moved away, he called after them: ‘And who’s that new Wrestling Troll? The one who wrecked the door of my dungeon!’

  ‘Him?’ shrugged Milo. He winked. ‘At the moment he’s a secret. But you’ll see him soon enough. Maybe in the ring.’ He gave another big smile. ‘Anyway, can’t stay and chat, Lord Veto, we’ve got to go and collect our winnings for Big Rock beating your Aggro.’

  With that, Milo, Big Rock, Jack and Robin walked off.

  Lord Veto gave a low snarl. ‘It isn’t over, you peasant!’ he growled. ‘Trust me, I’ll have my own back on you and your Wrestling Trolls!’

  WRESTLING TROLLS TO THE RESCUE

  Chapter 1

  The caravan with WWT on it creaked as it moved slowly along the country road. In front, pulling the caravan, plodded the old shaggy horse, Robin. Big Rock, the Wrestling Troll, ran behind the caravan, overtook it, ran round it, ran backwards, and then ran round the caravan again, all the time throwing punches at the empty air. He was training.

  In the driving seat of the caravan sat Milo and Jack. Milo held the horse’s reins and sang:

  ‘Wrestling Trolls.

  Tum-di-dum!

  Wrestling Trolls.

  Tum-di-dum!’

  Milo turned to the glum-looking Jack and said, ‘Come on! Join in the song! It’ll make you feel good!’

  ‘Nothing will make me feel good!’ groaned Jack. ‘I turned into a Wrestling Troll!’ Hastily he added, so as not to upset Big Rock, ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with trolls, I love Wrestling Trolls. I just don’t understand why it happened. It’s weird, and I’m worried it’ll happen again.’

  ‘So what?’ said Milo. ‘It was lucky for us it happened. You saved us!’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know if it’ll happen again!’ He let out another sigh. ‘Anyway, I don’t know the words to the song.’

  ‘There aren’t any words,’ said Milo. ‘Well, there are, but that’s all of them:

  ‘Wrestling Trolls.

  ‘Tum-di-dum!

  ‘Wrestling Trolls.

  ‘Tum-di-dum!

  ‘And you just keep singing it over and over.’

  ‘Until the poor creature pulling the caravan can’t stand it any more,’ grumbled Robin.

  ‘It’s a good song!’ defended Milo. ‘My uncle Waldo wrote it!’

  ‘How can you claim he wrote it,’ demanded Robin, ‘when the only words in it are: Wrestling Trolls. Tum-di-dum!? That’s not writing a song, that’s … ’ The old horse struggled to find the right words and finally came up with: ‘Stupid.’

  ‘It’s not stupid!’ said Milo. ‘It’s a good song because everyone can sing it!’

  ‘Trolls sang it when we had lots of trolls,’ agreed Big Rock as he ran past. ‘It good song!’

  Then he disappeared again, running backwards.

  Milo gave Jack a cheerful smile. ‘So, what do you think we should call you?’ he asked.

  Jack looked at him with a puzzled frown. ‘Jack,’ he said. ‘That’s my name.’

  ‘I mean when you’re … you know … the other you. The big one. The … er … ’

  ‘Troll,’ said Jack, and sighed again.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Milo. ‘When you’re … him.’

  ‘How about Thud?’ suggested the horse.

  ‘Thud?’ asked Milo.

  ‘It was the sound that door made as it came off its hinges,’ said Robin. ‘And so did Lord Veto’s orcs when they hit the floor.’

  ‘I like it,’ said Milo. ‘It has a good ring to it. Perfect for a Wrestling Troll.’

  ‘But I’m not a Wrestling Troll,’ said Jack. ‘I’m Jack. I’m a boy.’

  ‘And that’s a perfect name for you when you’re a boy,’ nodded Milo. ‘But when you’re … him. That big, tough, troll-like guy. He looks and sounds to me like Thud.’

  ‘He certainly did when we were in those dungeons,’ added Robin. He chuckled. ‘Thud. Biff. Bash. And Thud again.’

  ‘Excellent,’ smiled Milo. ‘That’s you. You’re Thud.’

  ‘I’m not!’ insisted Jack. ‘I bet it won’t ever happen again.’

  ‘It’d be great if it did,’ said Milo. ‘Big Rock and Thud. Two Wrestling Trolls!’ He frowned. ‘I wonder what caused it? Have you ever seen anything like that before, Big Rock?’

  ‘No,’ said Big Rock, and he danced past them, throwing punches and kicks at the air as he went.

  ‘What about you, Robin? You’re a horse who’s seen a lot. Especially with Wrestling Trolls.’

  Robin frowned. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said. ‘Right now, I’m going to stop talking because we have a hill coming up, and I need my breath to haul this heavy caravan up it.’

  ‘We could always get off and make it lighter,’ said Milo.

  ‘That is a very good idea,’ said Robin.

  ‘And while we’re off, I could always fix us a quick snack to give you energy,’ suggested Jack.

  Robin stopped, and if a horse could have been said to smile, then Robin was smiling. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is an even better idea!’

  Chapter 2

  Lunch for Milo, Robin and Jack was a pie, made by Jack. Big Rock munched on a selection of tiny stones of different shades and colours, now and then taking a bigger bite out of a chunk of granite.

  After lunch, the gang packed up and set off, with Big Rock once again running backwards and forwards around the caravan.

  ‘Where’s this place we’re going to?’ asked Jack.

  ‘It’s a town called Weevil,’ said Milo.

  ‘Has it got good wrestling?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Of course it has!’ said Milo. ‘Remember that special VIP guest at the Trolls versus Orcs Slamdown last week?’

  ‘Princess Ava,’ nodded Jack, remembering the small girl who’d been in the royal box.

  ‘That’s her,’ said Milo. ‘Well, Weevil is her kingdom. She loves wrestling. Her father, the old king, loved wrestling as well.’ He smiled. ‘I came here years ago with my uncle Waldo and the Wrestling Trolls, and it was great!’

  ‘Good wrestling,’ agreed Big Rock as he ran past, punching the air with his enormous fists.

  By now they had reached the outskirts of the small town, and the wheels of the caravan left the dust of the earth road and began to rattle over the cobbles of the streets. The place looked pretty deserted, just a few people hurrying by, and all of them keeping their eyes down towards the ground. They trundled on through the cobbled streets until they reached the market square in the town centre. As in the rest of the town, only a few people were in the square, and none of them were hanging about.

  ‘Strange,’ muttered Milo. ‘When we were here before this place was really busy. Loads of people. I wonder where everyone is?’

  Big Rock pointed to a large building at one side of the square. ‘That where wrestling was last time,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Milo.

  Now
they saw that the doors of the building had been nailed shut, and there was a large closed sign placed over them.

  ‘Strange,’ murmured Milo again.

  He saw a woman walking along, accompanied by three small children aged from about eight down to just three years old.

  ‘Excuse me!’ called Milo.

  The woman stopped and looked at him and the caravan and especially Big Rock with suspicion.

  ‘Yes?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re looking for the wrestling tournament –’

  He didn’t get a chance to finish. The woman uttered a shocked gasp and put her hands over the ears of her youngest child. The middle child pointed an accusing finger at Milo and shouted, ‘Bad men! Bad men!’

  ‘Hush!’ said his mother, and swept her children away as fast as she could.

  Milo turned to Jack. ‘What did I say?’ he demanded, bewildered.

  ‘You said the “w” word,’ muttered a voice.

  They turned and saw that a man had appeared by the caravan. He was tall and powerful-looking with a battered face, and that face had a very unhappy expression.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Jack. ‘Wrest—’

  ‘Sssh!’ snapped the man, and he looked around nervously. When he was satisfied that there was no one else around to overhear, he turned back to Milo, Jack, Big Rock and Robin. ‘You must be strangers here.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ admitted Milo, ‘but I came here years ago with my uncle Waldo.’ He gestured at Big Rock. ‘With Big Rock here, and my uncle’s other Wrestling Trolls.’

  ‘Don’t say that word!’ said the man warningly.

  ‘Trolls?’ queried Big Rock, puzzled.

  ‘I think he means the other word, Big Rock,’ murmured Jack. ‘The “w” one.’

  ‘Exactly,’ nodded the man. ‘Everything about it is banned here. The sport itself. And worse, anyone who looks like a … ’ and here he dropped his voice to a whisper: ‘wrestler, or is thought of as having anything to do with wrestling, gets arrested and locked up.’