Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4)

by Craig Halloran

  “There be an Ettin!” Brenwar said. He hoisted his war hammer over his head. “Battle Ho!”

  CHAPTER 6

  It was an Ettin. Two heads of matted brown hair. Thick skin covering hard packs of muscle. It towered even more than thirty feet in height. Its massive legs shook the ground.

  Sasha wrapped her arms around my waist. She was trembling.

  “Dragon!” she said. “Can you stop that … that monster?”

  “I told you he was big,” Ben said, nocking an arrow.

  I jumped on my horse.

  “Stay here!” I said. “Ben. Garrison. Keep an eye on Sasha!”

  Thoom!

  Thoom!

  Thoom!

  The Ettin’s club went up and down, pulverizing everything in sight. A host of Legionnaires scrambled. Others fell. Horses bucked and whined.

  Brenwar, Bayzog, and Shum had galloped towards the monster, obstructing its path. I sped after them.

  “Yah!”

  Brenwar was the Giant expert. Not me. But he’d told me stories about how the Dwarves fought the Giants. And best as I could recall, and I recalled plenty, it took many, many Dwarves. Today we only had one. I could hear Brenwar’s thunderous bellows. He was fighting mad. But he was happy.

  A blue ball of fire erupted from Bayzog’s fingers, shooting across the sky and into the Ettin’s face.

  It roared and shook its thick neck. Face smoking, it turned on its attacker, roared again and charged.

  “Bayzog!” I yelled.

  He couldn’t hear me. There was too much noise. The Legionaries galloped by, hurling spears into its legs. Arrows ricocheted off its faces. Just like Ben said.

  “Bayzog!” I said. “Get out of the way!”

  The Ettin loomed over them and raised its crude club.

  Brenwar attacked its ankles with his war hammer.

  Its great club came down. Bayzog was right underneath it.

  Boom!

  “Noooooo!” I screamed.

  Bayzog was down.

  I snapped the reins. “Monster!” I galloped up the hill at full speed.

  A Man was standing in my path. Waving.

  “Huh?”

  It was Bayzog. I’d almost run over him.

  I jerked back the reins and stopped.

  “Pretty fine sorcery, eh, Dragon?” he said, lifting his black brows.

  “You trickster you!” I said. “Get on, will you?”

  Bayzog shook his head. “I do my best work from a distance. That illusion was just a test. He’s strong, Dragon. Resistant to normal weapons―and to some magic too. That ball I sent was no illusion. It should have knocked one head out.”

  “What do you suggest, Bayzog?”

  He lifted one brow. Everyone else was fighting, and he was thinking.

  I didn’t have time to wait. I pulled Fang from his sheath and charged onward. Behind me I heard Bayzog shout something, but the wind carried it away.

  “Dragon! Dragon!”

  Fang flared with blue life.

  Chaos surrounded the Ettin. A score of soldiers attacked from all directions. Shum was nowhere to be seen. I searched for Brenwar. Where are you, Dwarf? The heavy head of his war hammer flashing in the air caught the corner of my eye.

  KaRoom!

  Brenwar smashed the bones in the Ettin’s ankle.

  The Ettin screamed like the world was going to end. Good!

  Thoom!

  Thoom!

  Thoom!

  It hopped up and down on one foot. The club swiped over the ground. Brenwar ducked beneath it. Soldiers and horses skipped over the ground.

  I dug my heels into my steed. I had to stop this monster before it killed or hurt anyone else.

  KaRoom!

  Brenwar hit it again.

  The Ettin toppled forward.

  “Nooooo!” I yelled.

  It landed on top of Brenwar.

  “Great Guzan!”

  I was almost there. The Legionnaires piled on the monster. They pinned it down with weighted nets and ropes. Bound its arms and legs.

  Shum appeared on the Ettin’s great chest. Agile. Graceful. The Elven Ranger flung a sparkling dust in the eyes of one of its heads.

  The Ettin thrashed and rolled. The soldiers holding the ropes were flung into one another and scattered. Its huge fists came down. Crushing one soldier. Crippling another. Its powerful legs snapped the ropes that bound it. It ripped them from its body like threads.

  It was going to take a lot more than plain ole’ Man power to take this monster down. I readied my sword.

  “Fang,” I said, “don’t let me down.”

  I held onto Fang with both my Dragon arms and swung into its knee like I was chopping into a tree. I got halfway through in one swing.

  Both heads cried out.

  White-blue energy erupted from the blade. Ice formed. Spread above and below the knee.

  “Brenwar!”

  The Dwarf lay smashed face-first in the ground.

  I jumped off my horse and pulled him up. His full body impression remained in the grass.

  “Are you alright?”

  He was moving. His voice was muffled. “Blecht!” He spit out grass, wildflowers and dirt. “Bloody Ettin sat on me,” he said. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Dragon. No one sits on a Dwarf and lives to tell about it.” He picked up his hammer. “Where is it?”

  I pointed.

  The Ettin was standing again, right behind us. Its legs were stuck together. The ice had frozen everything between its knees and ankles. Its ugly heads bickered at each other, speaking in Ettish. One hand rubbed at the dust in one of its head’s eyes. Arrows and spears zinged off its bare chest. Spears dangled in its other arm, which swung wildly, pounding at the ice.

  Brenwar huffed. “It’s a tough one, it is!”

  “I agree. So, you’re the Giant killer. What do we do now, Brenwar?”

  He shrugged. “Keep fighting. We’ll wear it down!”

  “That’s it? Five hundred years of dwarven wisdom and it narrows down to ‘Keep fighting. We’ll wear it down?’” I said.

  “Don’t have time for a longer answer,” Brenwar said. He slammed his war hammer into one toe, then another.

  The Giant’s club swept over the grass, with Brenwar right in its path.

  I jumped and knocked Brenwar out of the way.

  Wok!

  The club hit me square in the chest. Head over heels I crashed. I saw spots. I was dizzy. My chest felt like busted glass. I couldn’t catch my breath. I made it back to my feet, and fell again.

  Ahead, the Ettin whacked at the ice, but it held.

  Somehow, Shum managed to lasso the Ettin’s necks.

  The Legionnaires tied the ropes off with a team of horses. They snorted. Dug their hooves in. Tried to pull it down.

  The Ettin wasn’t going down. Not for anyone. It fought. It yelled. Then, one head yawned. The one Shum had dumped the dust on. The monstrous body quavered. One head looked dreamy eyes at the other. Then one head shouted at itself. It clonked itself on the sleepy head with its club, but the head dipped into its chest. One side of its body went slack. The horses heaved one more time.

  Down it went.

  Boom!

  So did I.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Wake up, Dragon! Wake up!” I heard Brenwar say.

  Oh no! I thought. Not again. I opened my eyes.

  Brenwar held a hard stare on me. Shum, Bayzog, and Sasha looked concerned. Even Ben was there. Kneeling along my side, fanning me with a shield.

  “How long have I been out?” I said, looking at my hands.

  “Ho! How long! What do you ask that for?” Brenwar said, fists on hips. “Afraid ye might wake up with a tail?” He held out his arm and pulled me up. Checked my behind. “All clear.”

  The others laughed.

  “Are you alright, Dragon?” Sasha said. “You’ve only been down a few minutes. Were you worried that you might have changed again?”

  “No,” I sai
d, clutching my chest. It ached, and yes, I had been worried. But now I was relieved. Same day. Same me. A good thing. I rubbed my chest. “Great Guzan, that was quite a walloping. I don’t think I’ve ever blacked out before from a hit. Ugh. Still hurts.”

  “Good thing you had Dwarven breastplate on,” Brenwar said. “Else yer stomach be on the other side of the village. Hah.”

  A good thing indeed. But something troubled me.

  “I took that blow for you, Brenwar. If you weren’t so slow—”

  “Slow!” His beard bristled. He shook his hammer in my face. “I’ll show you slow, Dragon. On yer feet! I’ll put another bump on yer head.”

  Shum stepped between us. “Let’s focus on the wounded. We’re all fine. For now, that is.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I said.

  “Can you walk?” Shum said.

  “Of course I can.” I started to stand. “Oof!” Sweat beaded on my head.

  “Let me help you, Dragon,” Ben said, offering his hand.

  “No, I’m alright.” I eyed Brenwar. “I’ll just be more careful who I decide to save next time.”

  “Pah!” Brenwar said, walking away.

  Shum stood and waited. Fingers locked over his pot belly. Bayzog was beside him.

  My eyes rested on them a moment, thinking how both were Elves, but different. Shum, dressed in worn leathers, was tall, broad, relaxed and thick wristed. Bayzog’s dark robes were elegant, his features stern, his movements purposeful, even for a part-Elf. They were the kind of people I liked to be around. Different. Like me.

  “Where we going?” I said, following.

  Shum pointed.

  The Ettin. It was right where they left it. Sitting up. Coiled in ropes, chains and mystic banding that sparkled. One head snored. The other was silent. Searching. It locked eyes on me. I felt a chill. Most Giants were ornery and stupid. This one was pure evil.

  “What are the Legionnaires doing?” I said.

  “Building a fire,” Shum said. His brows perched. “A big one.”

  “For what?” I said.

  “Burn it!” a farmer yelled. He brandished a hoe in his hands, and tears fell from is eyes. “It took my wife. It killed my friends! Burn it!”

  A crowd of villagers gathered around. Several threw rocks and stones at the Ettin.

  It laughed.

  “Garrison,” I said. “Who is in charge here?

  “Commander Wuzlin. Why?”

  “Make sure he realizes that Ettins don’t burn. And if we kill the Ettin, how are we supposed to find the women?”

  “But,” Ben said.

  “Just go! Make haste, Garrison, before they burn down everything.”

  Garrison scurried away. Ben frowned and watched his friend go.

  Sasha patted Ben’s back, and he smiled, just a little.

  I shook my head and spoke kindly to Ben. “These villagers are angry. Scared. Being unreasonable will follow. They want justice. They want blood. But I want answers.” I turned to the rest of my friends. “Come on. Any of you speak Ettin?”

  “Perhaps he speaks common,” Ben said.

  “I can speak a little Giant,” Shum said, “and ogre. He might understand that.”

  Bayzog stepped between Ben and Sasha and took Sasha’s hand. “Even if the Ettin understands what we say, why would he acknowledge it? Ettins, like all Giants, are as stubborn as they are big.”

  I thought that unfortunately, Bayzog was probably right.

  And this Ettin, he was massive. A thick slab of hair and skin slapped over solid muscle. One head had a nose ring, the other two hooped earrings.

  I couldn’t help but wonder who had made them such things. Did Ettins have blacksmiths?

  I hopped up on its ice-coated knee, walked over its leg, and poked Fang into one of its noses.

  “OW!” it said, shaking its awake head, looking away. “Don’t do that again.”

  I understood it. It was a rugged language. But not ancient. Clear enough to make out.

  “Ettin. Where are the women?”

  One head snored. Drooled. The other turned back to face me and breathed.

  “Ew!” I covered my face with my arm. It was foul. Beyond words.

  “Heh-heh-heh!” it said. “Like that, do you? The smell of many men I ate.”

  I poked its nose again.

  “Ow!”

  “I’m not playing games, Ettin. Where are the women?”

  It shook its shaggy head. “Hah! You’ll never know!”

  A rock pelted me in the head.

  “What are you doing?” I turned and locked eyes with a villager who stood there wide-eyed.

  A moment later Ben tackled him. “I got him, Dragon. What shall I do with him?”

  Knock some sense into him. I wanted to say that. I really did. “Take his rocks and send him home!”

  “Burn it!” someone said.

  “Burn it! Burn it! Burn it!” They started to chant.

  The bonfire was getting bigger and bigger. Flames went up and black smoke rolled over the hills. If I was going to get an answer, I would have to get it quick.

  “Alright, Ettin,” I said, “Tell me this. Why did you take the women? Why did you attack the village?” I tapped the flat blade of Fang on its nose. “Hmmm?”

  Its voice was gruff. Harsh. A deep tunnel when it spoke. “Why not!” it said. Quick. Angry.

  “I see. So, you just like picking on little things. Perhaps where you’re from they pick on you? You are a bit small for an Ettin.”

  “Ggggrrrrrrrlll!” Its brows buckled. The other head started to wake up.

  “Dragon!” Brenwar said. Shum was helping him up on the Ettin’s leg. “Let me at him! I’ll make him tell us where the women are!” He raised his hammer over the Ettin’s icy knee. “Answer up, Ettin!” Brenwar yelled.

  “Hold up, Brenwar! Give me a few minutes at least,” I said.

  “Hah! Stupid Dwarf can’t hurt me!” The Ettin laughed. “Little bearded hogs. That’s what we call them.”

  Brenwar brought that hammer down.

  Whack!

  Both of the Ettin’s heads let out ear-splitting howls.

  Ears covered, the villagers fled, screaming.

  I yelled at Brenwar. “Did you have to do that?”

  “Aye!” Brenwar said, raising his hammer again.

  “Stop it, will you!” I said.

  I watched the villagers. They sprinted. Panicked. It didn’t make sense to me. The Ettin, loud as it might be, wasn’t going anywhere. But I’d had enough of their lousy rock throwing already. How could you miss an Ettin at close range?

  “Nath!”

  “What!” I said, looking around.

  Shum and Bayzog, standing on the ground, were waving their hands at me.

  I shrugged. “Really, what is it?”

  The sound of a Legionnaire’s War Horn blasted through the air. Briefly, I thought, What is taking Garrison so long?

  Then the Elves pointed towards the smoke over the horizon.

  I turned.

  Thoom!

  Another Ettin cleared the hill.

  “HA! HA! HA!” My Ettin prisoner laughed. “My brother is here!”

  CHAPTER 8

  One Ettin encounter in a day was enough to last you a lifetime, but two? That seemed impossible. I shook my head and looked at Brenwar.

  He had an expression I’d never seen before. His brows were lifted. His mouth was open. The grumbler was puzzled.

  “Nath,” Bayzog said, “Suggestions?”

  Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

  The second Ettin strode past the tall trees. Head higher than the branches. A heavy chain was draped over his neck with a massive anchor on the end of it. He uprooted trees from the ground like pulling carrots, and he slung them across the land. He was bigger than his brother. Dark bearded. Terrible. Mean. Cruel expression. Heavy muscles over a solid round belly.

  “You die now, Dragon Man,” the first Ettin said.

  The other head shoo
k. Blinked its blurry eyes. Snorted. “What happened?”

  “Quiet! I’m in charge of this.”

  The other head snorted. “No, I’m the oldest.” It whipped around. “Say, who tied me up!”

  Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

  “Dragon!” Bayzog said. “Time to act!”

  “Hold yer ground, Dragon,” Brenwar said. He raised his hammer. “We’ve got a prisoner.”

  I nodded. Watched.

  The Legionnaires lined in rank, making a wall between our prisoner and the brother Ettin. The bright plumes on their helmets billowed in the wind. They lowered their lances. The Ettin heads stopped and bickered. The War Horn sounded again. The Knights of Quintuklen charged. They were brave men. Some of the bravest men I ever saw.

  The first Ettin laughed in my face. Low. Wicked.

  Hooves thundered up the hillside. Shiny armor gleamed in the sunlight. It was a glorious sight. Brave men riding into battle. Doing what was right. Fighting evil.

  The second Ettin lifted the chain from his neck and roared. The anchor circled like a lasso over its heads. A fierce grin crossed its faces.

  SWOOSH!

  The Ettin struck, scattering horses and riders all over the ground.

  I yelled, “Nooooo!”

  The bound-up Ettin laughed.

  More people would die if I didn’t stop this.

  A white streak of power slammed into the second Ettin’s face. It howled and dropped the anchor on its toe. One face was smoking. Angry.

  The Legionnaires struck again. Their volley of arrows skipped off its face. Lances shattered on its limbs.

  It swatted them away. Knocking men into men. Horse toppled riders.

  “Retreat!” I yelled.

  It picked up its anchor and came right at us. Angry eyes locked on Bayzog.

  I could see Bayzog’s eyes were drained. Weary.

  “Shum!” I said, “Get Bayzog and Sasha to safety. I’ll handle this.”

  Shum scooped his hands behind them and scurried them away.

  Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

  “YOU GONNA GET IT NOW, DRAGON MAN!”

  “Be quiet,” Brenwar said, shaking his war hammer in the first Ettin’s face.