by Allan Cole
Coldly, I was considering what had occurred. "I wager," I said, "he is telling us to go back, to get out of `his' mountains."
Janos nodded agreement and barked orders - of course the military had a procedure for opposed movement through a pass. "There will be more than one," he was telling Maeen. "Most likely they will be up above, providing cover for their comrade."
Maeen nodded understanding as Janos laid out the plan. I said nothing, but listened with half my mind, while considering my first thought; it still made sense. Janos had detailed three men, including himself, Maeen and the closest thing we had to a mountaineer, our wall-climbing music teacher Hebrus, for a special duty; and the others given specific orders as what to do and when to do it.
"We are ready, Lord Antero," he said, reverting to military formality as he not infrequently did when problems loomed and our soldiers were within earshot. "Will you take charge of the main party? The three of us will signal when in position and wait for your reply."
"Janos... you may think me either mad, or suddenly stricken with sentiment," I said. "Come aside."
I drew him away and laid out my very different strategy. He frowned. "I do not like it," he said, after he'd given my scheme a polite few seconds of pretended consideration. "If you are attacked... all that we have accomplished so far will be ruined."
"No, it will not be," I said. "If the worst occurs, then you are in charge of the expedition and may take any measures necessary. You will not be questioned later. I left such orders with Rali, my brothers and with Ecco. You not only can speak with my voice, but for the people of Orissa as well to as great a degree as I am empowered."
Janos looked away. His voice was thick with emotion. "You... you have honored me, and my family, beyond measure. But," and he turned back, "what happens if that overgrown gibbon up there does harm to you? What an imbecile thing to have happen, when we are this close to our dreams."
"I am not that worried," I said firmly. "I have two good reasons. First, that creature warned us rather than immediately trying to obliterate our party. I also wonder if that avalanche was in fact intended to strike, or was in fact a first caution? Second, I refuse to be terrified of someone who is naked."
There was a third reason I did not mention. The annihilation of the nomads still bothered me. I did not see my mission in life was opening the Far Kingdoms by cutting a wasteland as I went.
"I still think you are being unwise," Janos said.
"Very well," I said. "I am being unwise. Now, what I wish you to do is as you had planned, except you are to wait for a signal from me - or for that creature to attack - before striking. Now it will be even more imperative the three of you not be seen as you move."
"There shall be no problem there," Janos said. "But I must warn you, my friend, if you are killed in this absurd bit of benevolence, I shall speak to you very harshly."
I grinned, clapped him on the back and set the plan in motion. Janos, Maeen and Hebrus slid to the rear and then disappeared up a narrow ravine, while the rest of us milled about as a distraction. We waited for nearly an hour. The giant made no further move, other than shouting once more for us to retreat. Beyond that, he seemed content to wait until winter arrived to drive us away. This I found to be another indication that the creature might not be wholly malevolent. I spent my time sorting through various packs, trying to decide what might work with giants, never having dealt with the breed before. I also remembered one immutable characteristic all giants seemed to have in every tale my nurses told, and was further cheered.
At last our keenest-eyed man, who we had set to keep watch on a certain scrubby bush, reported it had moved... slightly. I stripped off my coat and weapons belt and rolled up my shirtsleeves, shivering in the mountain wind. I walked forward with the leather case that contained my chosen items. The giant sprang to alertness and shouted at me. I did not reply, but walked very slowly onward. He bristled and wavered, exactly like a housecat not sure whether to flee or not. The closer I got, the less pretty my friend appeared. His thick body hair curled around him like a flea-bitten pelt and from his constant scratching, I am sure he had them roaming on his body. He was misshapen, with larger hands and feet than even his monster body entitled him to. His head was equally massive; and elongated, with a lantern jaw. Yellow teeth, fangs almost, hung over his lower lip. He rose to his full height, brandishing an enormous club. It looked to have been the trunk of a young tree, its branches ripped off and the bark crudely polished off against rocks. I came no closer. The giant was sweating profusely, as if we were back in the desert rather than on these chill heights. He also stank abominably, so badly I nearly became sick. I paid no attention to the pleadings of my overly-civilized nose - a trader who dictates social customs to his customers is not only foolish but apt to be handed his teeth as a rebuttal. I set the chest down and opened it, carefully lifting out my articles. My arms were bare, to show I concealed nothing, and I moved very, very slowly. The giant seemed to relax. I sat, legs curled under me, as if I were a common bazaar merchant, and waited. The giant did not move. He was a primitive sort.
I chose one item, set it on a flat rock and depressed the twisted rod that rose from its center. Obediently, the mechanical top spun, its colors flashing brightly against the gray rock. I heard a grunt of interest. Next I picked up a gold necklace, and, wincing a bit as I recollected its worth and that it had been intended to hang from the neck of a princess, draped it over my wrist. Then I gently cast it toward my about-to-become trading partner. He drew back, startled. The necklace did not attack him. He crept forward, picked it up, examined it, muttering to himself, then put it on his own wrist. He looked at it this way and that, then chortled, in approval at his new bracelet. Next he began looking about him.
The fairy tales were correct - giants were no brighter in reality than they had been presented, since it took him long moments to realize there was very little around for trading stock. After considering rocks and even a bit of lichen growing from one boulder, he decided on an item. He set his club down where the necklace had been. Now I was quite sure we were in no especial danger. I shook my head, no, I did not want the club, and motioned the necklace was a present. He came closer. I saw his nose wrinkle in distaste and nearly smiled, remembering my father told me he once traded with men so primitive they never bathed nor changed the skins they wore until they rotted away, and considered the smell of a clean human body as nauseating.
Other items were presented: some he disliked, such as perfumes; others he liked, such as a small silver figurine that I cradled like it was a child. He laughed once more and took the figure. I guessed it would become a doll for his, or another giant's, child. Gold chains were accepted. But the great success was a box of sweetmeats I'd put in as an afterthought. He inhaled the entire box, looking about him warily like any guilty child who was being selfish in not sharing with his playmates.
When all my presents had been accepted or rejected, I stood and motioned to myself, then back at my companions, and then waved my hand toward the track beyond. Fingers mimed walking... I sought permission to go by. He grunted and then bellowed. From high above came answering shouts. The giant stood, showed me more tawny fangs in a friendly smile, and indicated the way was open. There was but one small other matter. I called out. The giant looked mildly alarmed, then terrified as Janos appeared on the ridgeline just above where we stood; also Maeen and Hebrus, bows in hand, arrows nocked but not drawn. Before the giant could snarl betrayal, the three men, following my instructions, set the bows down, ceremonially snapped their arrows in two and cast them down toward us. Even my less-than-gifted compatriot understood - we could have killed him, but chose not to. The broken arrows were also intended to signify we had intentions for peaceful passage now... and in the future as well. The giant laughed, at what I could not tell, picked up his gifts and bounded up the side of a nearby draw. Janos and his partners slid down from the ridgeline and we reformed and went on our way. We saw no more signs of the giant, nor
of his colleagues.
That night Janos approached me. "I have learned something," he said ruefully. "a sword is not always the best way to untie a stubborn knot." I shrugged it away - success with one peaceful and stupid being did not mean we should in any way lessen our caution. But I did note that Janos had changed. I thought the Janos that had accompanied me on my Finding might just as easily suggested negotiation instead of bloodshed; but perhaps I was wrong. In any event, we had overcome another obstacle with no loss to ourselves.
One thing of which I am extremely proud is the "treaty" I made between Orissa and the giants has stood from that day to this. Caravans traveling the mountain route take care to bring presents, or else avalanches threaten or even block the pass. No one has ever seen more than the one giant, if indeed it is the same one I gifted. And his, or his tribe's desires, have waned over the years. Now all they wish are candies, the sweeter the better. Everything else is rejected by these odd and still unstudied beings.
* * *
It took three days for us to reach the central peaks of the great range, and then the pass began winding downward. We journeyed on for two more days before we saw what lay beyond. To our great disappointment, there were no cities of gold below. Instead, there were a seemingly endless number of mountain valleys, reaching in all directions. We were shattered - could we be on some kind of journey that would go on, and on, and on, until we died of old age on this trail? But we kept marching, following the pass. We would decide which route to take once we reached flat land. But there was no decision necessary - the pass narrowed into a gorge. A spring gushed, other waters cascaded and we were moving beside a rapidly-growing mountain stream. I wondered what would happen when the river now a-borning devoured the canyon's floor. When it did we knew we were still on the right track. A road began, a road cut into the very face of the mountain. It had been sliced into the living rock - a precise groove twenty feet high by twenty feet wide. Here and there were hollows cut deeper into the rock so caravans could pass or camp at nightfall. It followed the river, keeping a stone's cast above the highwater marks. Steps were cut down the rock face so waterskins could be filled. None of us, not even Janos, had seen nor heard of such large scale work being attempted by anyone in the lands we called civilized.
It rained frequently, but the rock overhead kept us as dry as if we were walking through a covered bridge. We were almost sorry to reach the valley floor where we lost our rain blanket; although moving through green and living things delighted the eye and more than compensated for our regular drenchings. Now we followed a stone track that wound through the valley. We debated the wisdom of using the track, but had little choice: to either side grew dense jungle-like brush and trees that would take us weeks to hew our way through, and the sound of our chopping would carry very far indeed. We also slept on the road, having found another danger on our first afternoon. I had instructed the scout to begin looking for a campsite, and he had found one: a small hollow that beckoned off to the side. There was also a pool for drink and bathing; trees we could camp under; and tender grass for the animals. Janos was directing the unloading when I saw the vale move. It was if the grass had come alive and was on the march toward us. Leaves on the trees waved in the still air. I thought it must be sorcery, and then my stomach turned in fearful disgust when I saw what caused the motion: leeches. I had never seen any so large - these were twice the length of a man's hand. Scenting blood, they were humping toward us like an army of at an alarming rate. Other leeches were hanging from the trees themselves - the beckoning "leaves" I had seen.
It was a place that turned the bravest hero into a sniveling coward, and we moved on with much haste. We slept in the center of the roadway that night, but only after Janos had cast an aversion spell. Even so, it was necessary to light a small fire the next morning and use burning twigs to sear away a few of the bloodsuckers who had found us, and somehow avoided the spell. They were fat and bloated with our blood, When they fell away the wounds they had caused bled freely and required bandaging.
A few hours later The Watchers found us. The valley had broadened, and the river had shallowed and curved close to where the jagged mountains climbed. The road shot straight across the valley like a javelin cast and we could see for a long distance. It was hot and still. I remember cicadas buzzing in that lazy mountain summer. Then ahead of us, horsemen came around a curve. From the gleaming armor on both man and horse I instantly knew who they were. There were at least twenty of them: more than we had ever seen before. They spotted us before we could move off the road into cover. Their leader's lance tip dropped as he couched the butt. I could see gauntletted hands brush over helms, knocking visors closed. But we did not hear the expected clang of the armor, shouts of commands, or even the clatter of hooves against stone as the ghostly patrol broke into a trot toward us.
"Company size," Janos noted. "If they are planning to attack without parlay, their commander will order them to the gallop just after they enter that dip in the road and we lose sight of them." This was another situation we had trained for. Men pulled specially-made spear extensions from the asses' packs and connected them to the iron sockets we had put on each spearbutt. Six men knelt at the roadside, spears bristling up at an angle, their shields raised. Behind them were archers and then our animals, with one man to steady two mounts. The rest of us drew our swords, ready to respond where and when needed. Even though we bristled like hedgepigs on the alert, we were not setting up an inevitable confrontation: if they chose, the Watchers could halt or even ride by us without engagement. "Hold your position," Janos cautioned. "Don't worry... and don't run. There isn't a horse in life or legend who will charge a spearwall. Hold... hold..." His voice was as unworried as if this was yet another drill at my estate.
The column trotted into that fold in the ground, and was out of sight. "Now," Janos said, "now we shall finally find what intent these men have for us." But we didn't. Seconds became minutes, and the company of horsemen did not reappear from the dip. "How interesting," Janos observed. "There is not even room enough for that many horsemen to rein in without going ass over heaume. Two men! Forward to that dip! Not that you'll find anything."
Just as he had guessed, the two scouts shouted back the fold was quite empty. "Even more interesting," Janos said, sounding unconcerned. "The first possibility, which I doubt, is that we surprised them by our presence and our readiness to fight. The second is they, or rather whoever orders them, are trying to weaken our resolve. The third, which is only logical, is the commander of that legion is as unsure of us as we are of him. The fourth, which is the one to which I subscribe, is that attempting to second guess a truly great Evocator is like pissing into the wind - satisfying when it begins, but unproductive, messy and embarrassing as events unfold. Marching order! We move on!" And so we did, with no further excitement. But we journeyed more slowly, wearing armor and our weapons at ready.
On the following day we were ambushed. They had laid the trap well, just where the road passed near a rock formation on one side. On the other, bare ground offered no cover nor place to flee, and there was no shelter before or after the site they'd chosen. The only mistake was that they should have waited until the center of our party was in the killing zone, rather than striking at our scouts. Bowstrings twanged and two of our men shouted and went down; then spears lofted from the boulders. Someone howled in pain and our ambushers screamed war cries intended to freeze our blood. We stood, irresolute for a moment, as one of our animals screamed and reared - two arrows buried in its side. I heard Janos was shout: "Into them! Into them! Charge, you bastards!"
Maeen overleapt one of the wounded men, sword coming out of its sheath and he ran into the mouth of the ambush. I saw an arrow chang off a rock next to him, then he darted behind a boulder. I too, was running, my blade in my hand, and behind me I heard more shouts, battleshouts this time. I crashed through brush, around a boulder, and a man was there, arm drawing bowstring and loosing, and I do not know where that arrow we
nt as my slash took off his arm. Blood fountained and he cried out. Another man was there, sword up and parrying my cut. I recovered, half-falling to avoid his thrust and awkwardly cutting at him. My blade clanged against armor and I was against his chest, and we swayed together. I forehead-butted, smashing his nose, and he reeled back, stumbling. Before he could regain his balance I lunged into a full bott, my blade burying itself to the hilt in his groin. I nearly lost my sword as he fell, but recovered and put him out of misery.
An arrow thudded into the hard ground beside me and I looked up to see an archer on a boulder just above me; he wore a steel capeline, and his hand was plucking another shaft from his belt quiver and fitting it to bowstring - fingers smoothly drawing back. I saw death in his eyes, death on the tip of that war arrow aimed into my face as Janos's hurled dagger thudded butt-first into his chest. The archer dropped his bow, stumbled back and crashed down from his boulder. I heard bones snap, and he shouted pain. I was upon him then, and his head went spinning in gore as I cut with all my power.
Then there was no one left to slay. I sagged against rocks and had a short, but quite impressive attack of the shakes. I came back... and looked about. Eight enemy bodies were strewn among the rocks. "Eight against twenty," Janos said, with a bit of admiration. "They were not afraid, knowing surprise doubles and doubles once more your force."
He retrieved his dagger and looked at it skeptically. "Why is it," he mused, "in heroic epics when the hero hurls his knife, it always strikes the villain just to the heart? Oh well, at least I hit him. I was quite startled to not impale the boulder itself."