Briar and Rose and Jack

by Katherine Coville

  “Ahh! I will have it!” roars the giant. He reaches in, taking the hen’s cage carefully in his two-foot-long fingers, and tucks it inside his doublet. With that, he has finally been appeased. He ties his purse to his belt, hauls his bag of plunder over his shoulder, and turns to retrace his steps back to the distant mountain, leading the cattle along behind him. On his way out of town he kicks down several of the villagers’ cottages for good measure.

  * * *

  Back inside the cave, the light from Hilde’s hands has grown dim as she and Rose and Briar have come to a dead end, and they are making their way back to the point they started from. At last they find the X that Hilde scratched on the cave wall, and they stop to confer.

  “All right,” Hilde says. “Don’t be discouraged. We’ll try following the other wall.” Switching her hand to the opposite wall, she instructs the girls to do the same and follow her. And so they set off again.

  “I can hardly see your hands,” Rose says, worried. “We’re going to be in the dark soon. What will we do then?”

  “We’ll continue just as we are and go on by feel. There’s got to be another entrance here somewhere. There’s fresh air coming from this direction. I can smell it!”

  The girls try to take courage from this as they listen nervously for noises that might indicate that they are not alone in the cave. As utter darkness overtakes them, Briar, who is last in line, reaches out to hold on to Rose’s belt, startling Rose so that she gives a little cry and turns around, letting go of the wall.

  “It’s all right!” Briar reassures her. “It’s just me. I want to hold on to you.”

  “Where are you?” Rose calls out.

  Hilde says, “Wait! I smell—” Before she can finish her sentence, there is a great rush of noise, and suddenly they are surrounded by a cloud of flying bats. The girls scream and crouch down with their arms over their heads, but they soon realize that none of the bats are touching them. They stay huddled on the floor of the cave and wait it out, until finally the bats seem to have gone and all is quiet.

  “Bats,” says Hilde. “I smelled bats. Rose? Briar? Are you all right? Where are you?”

  “Here,” they answer. “Where are you?”

  “Stretch your hands out and come toward my voice. It’s good that we found bats. That means there must be an entrance nearby. In fact, I think I see a little light up ahead.”

  They muddle around blindly for a while until they have found one another’s hands; then Hilde leads them carefully toward the tiny scrap of light, which does indeed prove to be an opening.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Rose exclaims.

  “Hurrah for Hilde!” Briar adds. “We’re saved!”

  The girls want to run forward, but Hilde cautions them to stay well back. “I’m going out to look around and see if the giant is returning,” she warns them.

  “I hate that giant!” Rose says. “He’s a monster and a brute! I can’t wait until we—”

  Briar yanks Rose’s hand and squeezes it tightly in warning, and Rose, suddenly mindful that Hilde is listening, adjusts what she was going to say. “I mean, I hope he chokes on all that food!”

  No sooner has Hilde gone out to explore than Briar says, “You almost gave us away!”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. We’ve managed to keep the club a secret for all this time. This is the closest we’ve ever gotten to the giant. Much too close! Wait till we tell the others!”

  Briar and Rose confer over this until Hilde returns to the cave, out of breath, apprising them that the giant is swinging toward a more southerly route and will likely miss them. As they retreat well into the tunnel, they can hear the distant pounding of his footsteps. They get louder as he comes nearer, and then they sound farther and farther away. The little party breathes more easily and creeps out of the cave, drinking in the fresh air and daylight. The danger finally being over, Briar and Rose recover their composure quickly. “Just think what a story we’ll have to tell!” Rose says.

  They come upon one of the giant’s footprints, marveling at the proportions. “Look!” says Briar, placing her own foot down next to it, “I’m a bug!”

  “Come. We must get back to the castle straightaway,” Hilde warns. “They’ll be worried about us.”

  “We lost our baskets in the cave when the bats came through!” bemoans Briar.

  “We’ll have to leave them. We’re lucky to be going back with our skins!”

  And with that, they head off for home.

  Some time later they arrive at the castle, where all is chaos and woe. All able-bodied men have been conscripted to aid in the repair of the castle wall. Many are at work building scaffolding or hauling the big fallen stones back into place, working under the master mortar maker or the master mason. Some carry water or bring carts of sand and lime for the mortar. All will be working as long as there is light to see by and will start again at dawn, and on and on for as long as it takes to rebuild the wall. It is backbreaking work, but they are used to it. Half their harvest is gone, but they are used to that too. There is nothing for them to look forward to but more of the same, and they are used to it. But in their desperation, they ask themselves, How much more can be borne?

   Chapter Two

  MOTHER MUDGE LEANS OUT over her half-door, passing the time with her oldest friend, Granny Beasely. “They say poor Mrs. Dunlop is inconsolable,” Granny says dolefully. “She’s taken to her bed!”

  “Aye,” says Mother Mudge. “And her whole sickly brood are in a bad way. I don’t know how they’ll manage without the man of the house. None of ’em are fit to work in the fields. The Greers and the Wallaces are just as bad off. You’d think the king would do something for ’em, after the giant’s gone and killed their menfolk. All he’s done is raise the Giant Tax again.”

  “We neighbors will have to look out for each other. That’s always the way of it. I can spare some beans for Mrs. Dunlop’s soup, and a few others can pitch in. They’d starve waiting for the king to help them.”

  Just then the baker’s wife, scraggly and careworn, comes up to join them. “Ah, me,” she says.

  “What’s the matter, Agatha?”

  “Why it’s old William, the freeholder, and his whole family. They’re giving up on the place altogether and movin’ on. Can’t make a livin’ here, what with the giant an’ all. Can’t sell his land, as there’s no one who can afford to buy it, so he’s just walkin’ away with the family and the shirt on his back. Most of us in the village wish we could do the same, but bein’ bound to the king, we can do nothin’ but make the best of things. It is our lot in life, more’s the pity.”

  The other women moan softly in agreement. Mother Mudge looks thoughtful for a time, then says in a voice just above a whisper, “P’raps there’s a limit to how much folks can bear! And the bishop, he’s no comfort to the afflicted. He just tells us that it’s all the fault of our own wickedness. Imagine saying such a thing to the bereaved! I know every family in this village, and I hear things. There’s trouble brewin’! P’raps the king should pay more attention to the sufferin’ of his people.”

  Granny Beasely and Agatha nod sagaciously, but Jack comes along, just in from working in the fields, and they quickly drop the subject. Mother Mudge asks Jack if he’s hungry for a little pottage, and Granny Beasely and Agatha say farewell and move on.

  Jack is tired and hungry after hours of backbreaking work, but he barely pauses long enough to wash his face and hands. Then he gulps down the pottage and goes on his way, walking through the little village to the castle, as he usually does about this time, to look for the Giant Killers’ signal. He gazes up at the topmost window of the keep and spots the old signal for a meeting, the red blanket hanging from the window. He and Briar and Rose have managed to maintain the utmost secrecy for their private meetings of the original Giant Killers’ club for the past three years. Occasionally other meetings include Lord Henry, Lady Arabella, Elizabeth, and Jane, but usually it’s only Jack, Briar, and Rose
who convene in the storage shed behind the kitchen.

  There are scores more youngsters of Jack’s acquaintance who have taken the solemn oath to uphold their ideals and kill the giant. His neighbor, Arley, and Arley’s little sister, Bridget, were the first to join, their eyes filled with zeal and their hearts full of hope. They spread the word to Dudley and Jarrett, Bertha and Quentin, Maddox and Emma and Marian, and they have spread the word to others, until every last child in the village over nine years of age has taken the oath of the Giant Killers and can proudly recite their code of honor. Jack acts as their secret representative and reports back any new developments to Arley and Bridget, who spread the word to Dudley and Jarrett, Bertha and Quentin, Maddox and Emma and Marian, and all the others. And so it goes, all unperceived by the adults around them.

  Jack makes his way to the stables first, as they are closest. If this meeting is to include Lord Henry, Lady Arabella, Elizabeth, and Jane, they will be there, or if it is a private one, Briar and Rose will be waiting at the storage shed farther on. Knocking the Giant Killers’ secret knock, three hard knocks and four soft ones, Jack is admitted to the tack room, where the larger party is already assembled.

  “Did anyone see you?” inquires Briar.

  “I don’t think so,” Jack replies, shutting the door behind him.

  “So what is this great revelation you found out about the giant?” Lord Henry quizzes Rose. “I’m dying to hear it.”

  “It’s just this,” she responds. “He has a terrific sense of smell. We were hidden inside a cave and he still smelled us. If we’re ever going to sneak up on the giant, that might be important to know.”

  “Sneak up on the giant? What good will that do us? How is that ever going to happen? We don’t even know where he lives! He just heads off toward the mountain. He might live anywhere up there.”

  “Maybe it’s time we found out!” Briar says. “We’re not little kids anymore. There must be a way!”

  “I can find out where he lives!” cries Jack. “Just give me a packhorse and some supplies. I’ll follow his tracks up the mountain and see where they lead. I’ll go.”

  Lord Henry, Lady Arabella, Elizabeth, Jane, Briar, and Rose all look at Jack, and at one another.

  “Are you serious?” asks Rose.

  “Do you really think you can do it?” Briar asks. “What about your mother?”

  “My mother keeps telling me I’m the man of the family. I’ll just have to tell her I’m going on a man’s business and leave it at that. And you would have to promise to take care of her while I’m gone—and . . . if I don’t come back. None of you could disappear for even a day or two without causing a major crisis. I’m the only one who can go.”

  “What if there is more than one giant?”

  “That’s one of the things we need to find out.”

  “What if he smells you?”

  “I wouldn’t get that close.”

  “He’d smell you even if you didn’t get close. That’s the whole point.”

  “Maybe Hilde has some bear grease or skunk oil or something we could snitch that would mask his smell,” offers Rose. “Just in case. But whose horse could we give him?”

  “Wait. We’re not really talking about sending him out to find the giant all on his own, are we? He might get killed!” objects Briar.

  Rose, and therefore Lady Arabella, and therefore Elizabeth and Jane, all agree.

  Jack, who has never had enough to eat, is the smallest among them. Nevertheless, he takes Briar’s hand and looks calmly into her eyes. “I can do it,” he says. “We couldn’t do it before. We were too young. Now, if you can get me a horse, I can go. It’s time. I should go soon, while the tracks are still fresh.”

  Lord Henry looks on, an expression of reluctant admiration struggling with his habitual contempt. He notes the respect with which the other youngsters are regarding Jack. Suddenly, in a burst of uncharacteristic generosity, he blurts, “He can use my horse.” Almost immediately he wants to take it back, but everyone’s eyes are upon him now, and he enjoys their looks of approval so much that he quickly improvises a plan. “I’ll ride out and meet you beyond the far field; then I’ll walk home and say that Baxter threw me and ran away. Of course, I might get in trouble,” he adds with a self-important air, “but then when you return, I’ll ‘find’ him again, and it will all be smoothed over. Did you ever ride a horse, boy? Do you know how to take care of one?”

  Jack, getting over his surprise, responds, “I’ve ridden Farmer Oldham’s plow horse and taken care of him all right.”

  “Well, my Baxter is no plow horse. Do you even know how to saddle a horse?” Lord Henry asks with enormous condescension.

  Jack, who is meek enough to accept this without resentment, responds, “Maybe you could show me? I’ve only ever ridden bareback.”

  “Baxter is used to being ridden with a saddle,” Henry says, the truth being that Henry himself has never mastered riding bareback. This only increases his loathing for the boy, which shows all too clearly on his face and in his tone of voice.

  “He’ll do fine with the horse,” Briar says confidently. “But how will we get his supplies?”

  “We’ll all have to help,” Rose answers. “We’ll each of us have to pilfer whatever we can from the pantry and storerooms, and I’ll see what I can get from Allard. We should plan for a week, just in case.”

  They continue to work out the details until everyone is sure of their roles. Jack, Briar, and Rose seem lit from within. Their voices are animated, their eyes sparkling. Finally, all the talk is resulting in a course of action, and they are able to do something. The others go along. Though they have no great belief in the project, they are interested to see what Jack can do. With one last admonition to Jack that he must keep his distance from the giant and not try any heroics, the meeting of the Giant Killers is adjourned.

  * * *

  Sometime later, Rose and Briar meet up with Lady Arabella, Elizabeth, and Jane again.

  “Have you heard the news?” Lady Arabella asks excitedly.

  “What news?” Rose responds.

  “You mean, you haven’t heard?” says Elizabeth with a superior air. “A master painter has arrived at court. He’ll be painting portraits of all the most important people, and my papa says that I may have lessons!”

  “My papa says I may have lessons too!” adds Jane.

  “If he gives lessons,” says Lady Arabella. “And if he does, it will probably only be for the princess, not for the steward’s daughter or for a knight’s daughter, you know. So you may as well forget it.”

  Elizabeth’s face falls, and Jane sulks.

  Rose, who feels guilty at the girls’ disappointment, nevertheless is filled with delight at the thought of having lessons from a master painter. Like her mother before her, she has an inchoate longing to create something beautiful. Her embroidery, when she takes the trouble to do it, is perfectly lovely, but still she yearns for other means of expression and has only dreamed of such an opportunity. “I must see Papa about this, immediately,” she says eagerly and, excusing herself, goes to find the king. Lady Arabella, Elizabeth, and Jane ignore Briar and move on, their noses in the air.

  Briar, left on her own, contemplates sadly that the painter will certainly not be wanting to paint her portrait. In search of comfort, or at least distraction, she effortlessly climbs the steps to Hilde’s high tower room. Experience has taught her to listen at the door for signs of trouble before knocking, and she hears crashing sounds within. Though she can’t make out the words, she also hears the unmistakable lilt of Hilde’s enthusiastic cursing. Waiting for a lull in the commotion, she finally decides to knock. Hilde jerks open the door, her broom in her hand, saying, “What do you wa— Oh, it’s you, dearie! Come in, come in. Don’t be afraid, It’s just the imp. He’s come back to his hatching place, with friends. An infestation, I’m afraid. Here, hold the broom while I look for the incense. Just wave it at them if they come too close. They’re nesting up in th
e rafters!”

  Briar looks up and sees a cluster of small reddish bodies buzzing around the ceiling like inflamed cherubs. She knows how much trouble they can cause, but she must admit they’re cute.

  “What are you going to do?” she asks, slightly worried.

  “Smoke ’em out!” comes the reply. “Ah, here it is! Skunk scent? No, they’d probably like that. Maybe something sickeningly sweet. Yes, honeysuckle!” Hilde sets seven little brass bowls out, spreads them around the room, and puts a little chunk of incense in each, lighting them and gently blowing on them. Soon, wisps of smoke rise up like attenuated ghosts, curling and swaying, ascending to the ceiling and there melding into a sweet-scented fog. Gradually it fills the whole room, and the imps begin to choke and splutter. Down they come, one by one, until the entire flock of them are fluttering about just above the floor, coughing and mewling. Hilde is holding a cloth over her own nose and mouth, and she’s given one to Briar. With her free hand she catches an imp and tosses it out the window. Briar tries this and finds it pretty easy while the imps are incapacitated. Soon there is just one imp, which has stashed itself in behind the cupboard and won’t come out with either coaxing or threats. Finally, Hilde and Briar stand by the window, resting and breathing deeply. They have given up on removing the last imp.