THERE was once an old wooden bridge across a tumbling river.

It had been built many years before by people from two villages on either side of the river. They had built it together so people could cross the river easily and the two villages could be united.

Before the bridge was built, the villages were divided and the crossing had been controlled by a group of greedy trolls who had no concern for humans or their interests. The division suited them because they were able to force people to pay for the privilege of wading across the river, as they were the owners of the water and the riverbank. For the trolls, this pre-bridge era was a great time.

But when the bridge was built, it diminished their power, influence and profit. So they hated the bridge and wanted rid of it. But the bridge was strong because people from both villages looked after it, repaired it and sometimes even improved it. They did this because they could remember what life had been like before the bridge, when the trolls ruled the crossing and they were deeply divided.

The trolls sulked and wondered how they could destroy the bridge and regain their power. They weren’t strong enough to do it themselves, so they needed to find a way to persuade people to help them.

Gradually, the trolls began to hack away at the foundations. Bit by bit, they weakened the bridge and made it creaky and unsteady. Soon, people noticed the bridge needed repair but the trolls whispered to the people who lived in one village that the reason the bridge was damaged was because people from the other village were using it.

The trolls whispered to them that the people from the other village should be banned from using the bridge because they were damaging it and so should have no right to use it. They called them “the others” because they came from the other village.

At first, only a few people from the village took notice of the trolls’ whispering. But people noticed it was true that the bridge was creaky and unsteady, and so many from one village began to blame “the others” for it.

The trolls’ whispering was working.

If people looked carefully, they could see the trolls hacking away at the foundations. But the trolls were clever and reassured them that they were actually trying to repair it, which wasn’t true, of course. But some people believed them.

The trolls convinced these people that the real culprits were the people from the other village, who were secretly trying to destroy the bridge. The trolls then convinced many of the people from one village that the only way to save the bridge was to destroy it, because it had been ruined beyond repair by the others. The trolls said they knew how to build a better bridge, which they could make sure the others couldn’t ruin.

Not everyone believed the trolls, but eventually enough people were convinced by them. So they also began to hack away at the bridge so the others would not be able to use it.

The trolls watched with great satisfaction.

When the bridge collapsed, there was a roar of delight from some people and a gasp of horror from others.

Now the trolls had what they had wanted.

Their new bridge wasn’t what they’d promised; in fact, it wasn’t even a proper bridge. But the trolls controlled the crossing once again and it was now the only way. Everyone had to pay, whether they were from one village or the other.

The trolls were very happy. Their plan had worked. They had managed to persuade the people to destroy the bridge that had united them.

It was true the old bridge had been creaky and imperfect, but very soon most people, from both villages, missed it terribly, even those who had believed the trolls.

But it was too late. The trolls were great again.