by Bill Albert
Several cracks of the whip woke them up just after dawn. The rain clouds had diminished, and the sun felt refreshing to their damp and wrinkled skins. The guards ate heartily making sure that they cooked their food upwind of the prisoners, then got the entire caravan moving again.
“I noticed Shiny Guy’s not with them anymore,” Blinks said when the sun was fully over the horizon.
“I noticed that yesterday,” Jakobus said. “I believe he went his own way when we left the farm.”
“I honestly hadn’t caught that,” Gallif said sadly and Luvin remained quiet.
“I believe he was headed east but I’m not completely sure,” Jakobus added.
“East is that way,” Blinks grumbled pointing towards the sun.
When the caravan left the main road and headed into a heavily wooded area any discussion came to a stop. They all knew that they were not headed neither to Spring Field nor Bauerent and suspected there was something much worse up ahead. After they passed by some small wooden hut and all of the militia that had escorted them turned back, they knew they were right and were no longer being followed.
At first it looked as if they were travelling through a perfectly normal grass field, but they soon realized it was quite different. Though the tops of the grass blades were green the bases were blood red and there were at least a dozen rotted animal carcasses lying several feet away from the dirt road.
“This is an abroizon field,” Gallif gasped in shock. Blinks and Luvin looked wide eyed at the deadly grass surrounding them and Jakobus gave a silent prayer for their safety.
Abroizon grass was the most dangerous plant anyone had ever known. The shafts were filled with acid and the edges were coated in poison. There was absolutely no smell to them and a field of them most often looked like natural wild grass. Animals were easily caught in its death trap. On the run, they could find themselves in the middle of the grass before realizing it and would die in intense pain. Even birds would swoop down for a quick bite of grass and never leave the ground again.
The field was followed by a string of sixteen-foot-tall bronzi trees. These trees had no branches but just sprouted gigantic thorns making them impossible to climb. Systematically planted only four feet away from each other anything trying to pass between them would be cut to shreds.
Across the road, firmly nestled between the bronzi strings, was a closed gate. The gate was made up of handmade spikes that had to be opened by hand but were spring activated to close. They would take some time to open but could close instantly to prevent escape. Gallif counted sixty spikes on each side and knew this gate could not be easily breached.
Soon there was a change in the rattling of the wheels, and they could tell they were on a wooden bridge. They looked at the wood side rails of the bridge but could not see ahead of the wagon to guess how long it was. When they finally emerged on the other side they could see the immense gully they had just crossed over.
They were taken into another barn and came to a stop beneath a large crane. The cage was unbolted and lifted away. Just as quickly they were released from the chains and dragged by their cuffs out the back. Before they could stand and get their bearings they were pulled into a tunnel of blinding light. They were not allowed to stop and with their hands cuffed they were unable to shield their faces so they stumbled through with their eyes clamped shut. After several seconds they were suddenly left in total darkness.
Gallif breathed deeply and tried to steady herself but was quickly grabbed and thrown down onto a hard surface. She tried to fight back but the disorientation was too much and she was quickly moved on a cart into another room. She could feel the hands of four different individuals grab her and lift her from the cart and force her to sit in a wooden chair. There was the sound of doors closing behind her and silence fell.
The chair she was in was sturdy and solid. There were no cushions to make it comfortable and she rested on the hard surface. She tried to stretch her legs and arms, but the bounds were too tight to move, so she relaxed and took a deep breath. She could tell by the scent that the chair was oak, and she let the natural smell of the wood fill her lungs. The natural healing properties of her body combined with the wood and she started to feel better immediately. She took several deeper breaths and then opened her eyes.
The room she was in had bare stone walls and an archway to her right that she could just barely see. There were two candles on the wall in front of her and she suspected there were two more behind her.
She sat quietly and as her heart rate returned to normal she could finally hear the heavy breathing of someone behind her. She heard footsteps. The light from the candles was eclipsed by a giant looking down on her.
“You have some information for me,” he said. “What happened in the burial grounds? Did you find the library?”
“What has Marassa told you?” she asked without a pause. “Notice, I am no longer referring to you as ‘my lord’ anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter. Soon you won’t be saying anything to anyone,” the Third Minister said menacingly.
“Oh, yes, I will, I will tell everyone the truth,” she stared back at him. “I will tell everyone about your crimes.”
“You are no threat to me. I am one of the Circle of Ministers of the Giant Lords. You have confessed to being responsible for bringing down Starpoint Mountain. Who will they treat as a criminal?”
“You,” she yelled at him. “The people of this land are not as blind as you think.”
“They are not just blind,” he countered her. “They are also deaf and dumb to the will of the Giant Lords.”
“You haven’t shaken my faith in all giants. I’m sure other members of the Circle will turn against you. King Paleth will surely see you brought down.”
“Paleth?” the Third Minister asked and started laughing. “I pull his strings easier than I pulled yours.”
Gallif could not hide her shock at the thought. It had been difficult to believe that one giant was working against the kingdom.
“Your evil ways will be your undoing,” she said.
“Your guilt will be yours.” He bent over and looked her straight in the face as he asked, “How many deaths have there been at your hands?”
“You’ve never felt a loss before, have you?” she asked not looking away. “Now that you have you don’t know how to deal with it,” she continued when she caught the ever so slight twitch in his face. “You don’t know what happened to Marassa or Acrufix and it bothers you.”
“I know where Acrufix is. He was the one who captured you.”
“Was he the one who went into the burial grounds with me or one of the other 'Keepers of the Faith'?”
The frozen look on the giant’s face told her volumes and she knew she had caught him off guard. She expected that he would now be wondering what else she might know and prayed to Tebiet that she could keep him guessing.
The giant forced himself to stay calm, stand tall and slowly walk around the chair. When he came around in front of her again, he had a clay bottle in his hands. He uncorked it and held it out to her.
“Tell me,” he said with an icy voice. “Did you find the dragon’s library?”
“Yes,” she said as if it were unimportant. “I walked through the library and even read some of the books inside. The knowledge of the dragons was way beyond anything we could have imagined. They were quite accurate and detailed in their observations of other species. Including giants.”
The giant tipped the bottle and a small drop of liquid fell from the lip and landed on her knee. The pain was horrible, and she bit down hard to stop herself from screaming as the acid ate through the armor and into her skin. She shook and clenched her muscles to stop form hurting herself against the bonds.
“I wonder what works faster. The casting effects of the armor or the burning of the acid.”
Gallif was in too much pain to respond. Sweat poured down her face and she gasped for air. She opened her eyes and looked at him with pure
hatred. “I trusted you, I worshipped you, I fought to save you.”
“As you should,” he said slowly. “As will all the rest in the land. When I am king all will follow me.”
“That’s what this is? A power grab?”
“No. It is much, much more than that,” he said and tipped the bottle again. The acid drop, bigger this time, fell and slid down her right leg.
Gallif screamed and shook violently as pain ruled her body. She swallowed hard to remain silent, but the blinding pain was too much for her and she howled. She tried to rip free of her bonds as another wave of pain swept through her. The healing cast on the armor wasn’t strong enough to prevent this intense damage. It could not heal her fast enough.
“WHAT ELSE DID YOU FIND IN THE LIBRARY?” he yelled and in such a confined space she was almost stunned by the echo. “WHAT DID YOU LEARN?”
Gallif was in too much pain to speak and desperately centered her thoughts on healing. She dug her hands into the wood of the chair hoping it would help her, but her concentration was broken by his shouting.
“TELL ME!”
“No,” she shouted back at him breathing heavily. “You’ll have to go there yourself. I’m sure Marassa would enjoy your company.”
This was another revelation he did not expect and he stood back. “She lives?”
“Yes, she lives,” she said and continued to breathe deeply but slowly. The healing cast on the red tinted armor was starting to heal the burned skin. The grip on the wood was also helping her recover.
“She has yet to report to me.”
“She can’t, by her own will, leave the library. Someone will have to relieve her. Even with all the power in the land you won’t be able to change that,” she said. Her hair was damp and her stomach was churning from the tarna eggs. She looked up at the giant and for a brief moment there was a flash of light over his shoulder as Lincilara let he know she was there.
“No,” Gallif cried. “Stay away.”
“Oh,” the giant said smiling, “we have only begun.”
“I order you to stay out,” she yelled, and the giant laughed louder.
“You may be important, to some people, but not that important.”
Gallif focused back on him and said, “Giants aren’t the only ones with secrets.” The confidence in her voice was so strong even he couldn’t hide his surprise.
“What secrets could you have that could threaten me? Something you read in the library?”
“Or maybe something I heard from a dragon?” she asked and paused to let the thought sink in. “A thousand-year-old truth that even you won’t be able to comprehend.”
“A thousand-year-old truth? You must be talking about the curse on the elves.”
This time Gallif was the one who could not hide her surprise, but despite the remaining pains from the acid, calmness fell upon her.
“Oh, we’ve known the truth about the elves since we established our kingdom.”
“I will not underestimate you again,” she said calmly.
“The knowledge is no good to you anyway. We spent many years trying to find some way to remove, or replicate, the curse and couldn’t do it and there is no one more powerful than us.” As he spoke he put the cork back in the acid bottle but kept it in his hand.
Gallif smiled as the giant’s weakness came clear to her. The giants knew of the Others but had dismissed them as a lesser species many years ago.
Her smile was not missed by the giant but before he could say anything there were footsteps from the corridor outside and someone entered the room. He looked over the chair angrily. “You dare to come in here! I told you this room was off limits! You will suffer for this.”
“My Lord,” the nervous voice pleaded with him. “An urgent message has come for you. I must, under oath, immediately tell you that another tragedy has struck.”
“Fine,” the giant grumbled but did not lose his anger. “Your life depends on it.”
Gallif felt her strength returning as the acid burns vanished. She let her body sit limp and looked away from the Third Minister.
“It’s the Fourth Minister, my lord, he’s been found dead. His caravan was crushed when the mountain fell.”
The giant stopped as all his anger fell away. He had never been a friend of the Fourth Minister, but they did agree about many things and there were now certain traditions that would need to be followed. “Are the Weeping Bells ringing?”
“Yes, my lord, across that land.”
The giant briefly considered his next move, but he knew there was very little choice. All the ministers would be needed in Spring Field and the longer he was gone from the city the bigger the chance that it would be noticed. He looked at the bottle of acid in his hand, then at Gallif, then without saying a word, he walked away.
“Third Minister,” Gallif called clearly. She could not see him, but the footsteps stopped suddenly so she knew he was listening. “Remember, officially, giants aren’t the only ones with secrets.”
***
A mournful silence had fallen across the capital city as news of the Fourth Minister’s death was reported. The daily celebrations and events were cancelled, and most giants stayed in their homes or went to their temples.
Steadily a specially trained crew worked their way through the city turning the symbolic green and azure banners of the Giant Lords upside down. Half of the streetlights were extinguished and would remain that way for three days.
All of the court activities were cancelled, and all the schools were dismissed. The few citizens out on the streets wore hooded cloaks and rarely spoke. The only distinct sound heard through the city were the Mourning Bells ringing their deep, solemn tones. They would continue to do so until sundown on the fifth day.
“Where is the Fifth Minister?” the First Minister asked as they gathered in their meeting room. All but three of the nine ministers had arrived.
“He is continuing his mercy missions to those displaced by the fall,” the Sixth Minister reminded him.
“Of course, I’m sure he will be on his way back by now,” the First Minister said. He was already wearing the black and gray mourning robes giving his pale face an even more skeletal look.
“We sent riders and wings in all directions immediately,” the Sixth Minister added.
“And the Third Minister?” the First Minister asked, and they all looked silently at the empty chair.
“Unknown,” the Seventh Minister said, knowing that the question was aimed at him. “According to the gate keepers he hasn’t left the city and must be somewhere inside. I know he has been interested in some of the records in the vaults. I expect he is somewhere down there.”
“Find him,” the First Minister said solemnly.
“We have already sent runners, but the vaults are quite a labyrinth.”
“Find him,” the First Minister repeated.
The Seventh Minister left the chamber without saying a word, but he did catch the slight grin on the Second Minister’s face.
Once they were alone the First Minister called them over to sit nearer to him. They were both so shocked by this order neither spoke nor even looked at each other as they moved their chairs to sit on each side of him. He stared so long out at the jagged landscape from the highest view in the kingdom, a tear in the heart of their world, that they were surprised when he finally spoke.
“I sense a great unease from the two of you and I suspect it is something other than the fall of the mountain.”
The Second and Sixth Ministers glanced at each other and quickly turned away. They had hoped that some of their actions had been seen as political gamesmanship and knew they could not lie to the First Minister.
The Sixth Minister stroked his dark beard, took a deep breath and said, “There are some discrepancies between what we are told and what we see.”
“Bring your suspicions in to my light,” the First Minister said without looking at either of them.
“This is not the first time the Third
Minister can’t be accounted for,” the Second Minister ventured.
“The labyrinth below Spring Field is quite complex and massive. Even a giant can get lost in the shadows.”
“But we aren’t even sure that is where he is at,” the Second Minister continued. “All we know is that there are some very important places he is not.”
“Continue,” the First Minister, said staring out at the landscape.
“He has also spent an unusually high amount of time with the king,” the Sixth Minister joined in.
“As the Circle of Ministers it is our duty to council the king whenever he calls on us. All leaders have an inner circle of advisors they trust.”
“But, First Minister,” the Sixth Minister added quickly, “it is not the king calling upon him. King Paleth has been going to his office. There have been no announcements, appointments, or communications beforehand; just sudden changes in schedule to visit him.”
The First Minister blinked and tilted his head slightly to one side. It was first time either of them had ever seen any kind of surprise on his face.
“And the proclamations soon follow,” the Second Minister said deciding to go further. “Five royal proclamations in two months, every one of these immediately followed a visit to the Third Minister’s office. There is also the girl. Her sudden disappearance from our very own capital despite the announcement she made knowing the reason the mountain fell.”
The First Minister looked at the twin towers of rock that were the remains of Starpoint Mountain and said, “This girl is becoming a significant part of our lives whether we like it or not. More and more citizens, especially humans, are talking and taking an interest in her. I can hear their whispers from here. The more the legend grows the more faith they have in her.”
“Is it possible their faith in her could be stronger than their faith in us?” the Sixth Minister asked after several slow breaths.
“It is possible,” the First Minister said without pausing, “but there is also a faith more powerful than either a Giant Lord or a human.” He leaned forward and signaled for them to come closer by waving his boney fingers at them. “Find her,” he ordered with a strong and powerful voice. “Bring her to me.”