In Deep Dark Wood

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘Bran Bigg, look what you’ve done!’ snapped his wife. ‘The poor child is crying. You know I can’t stand the tears of a child.’ She plopped down on a heavy kitchen chair and blew her nose loudly.

  ‘There, there, Bessie love, I didn’t mean nothing by it.’

  Rory wiped his eyes with his sleeve. These giants were certainly not like anything he’d expected. They seemed like gentle farm people, almost unaware of their immense size.

  ‘Give the boy something to eat,’ ordered the giant, pulling the stool up close by him at the table. Birch broke up a small corner of bread for Rory and her mother spooned out some thick stew which she placed on a small saucer in front of him. He didn’t know what was in the stew, but he gulped it down anyway.

  ‘He likes my cooking,’ said the wife, tickling Rory’s chin with her finger as if he were a baby, and insisting on giving him a second helping.

  ‘Where does he come from, Da? How did he get here?’

  Rory’s mouth was so full of the rich gravy and vegetables that he couldn’t reply.

  ‘The boy will tell us in his own good time,’ said her father.

  ‘He said he’s looking for his sister,’ stated Birch. ‘I wish I had a sister or brother,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘Birch Bigg, stop that nonsense! You know well that a giant family is always just a Ma and Da and a little one, always has been and always will be. That’s the giants’ way.’

  Birch looked crestfallen.

  Her mother gave her a warning glare and Birch busied herself pouring out the juice into the heavy glass goblets on the table. Rory was given what looked like an earthenware eggcup to drink from.

  ‘What’s your name, boy?’ asked the giant, crunching on a huge piece of raw celery.

  ‘Rory.’

  ‘Rrroorrie. ’Tis strange sounding.’

  ‘Rory Murphy.’

  ‘Murrffee,’ repeated the giant. I have never heard tell of any of your folk. Are you part dwarf or goblin, or more human?’

  ‘All human,’ said Rory firmly.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ murmured the giant, ‘a crying shame.’

  Rory gulped the strong-tasting juice and said nothing.

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence, and every now and then Rory glanced at the girl to try and ascertain what might happen. Birch concentrated on eating and would not return his gaze at all. Afterwards, Birch and her mother cleared the table and Birch’s father produced a large pipe which he filled with tobacco, and began to smoke. He lifted Rory up and placed him on a chair beside him.

  ‘Now, boy, I’ve been patient with you, more than patient, you must agree. Tell me how you came to Giants’ Cave. Have you been sent to spy on us, is that it?’

  Rory shook his head. ‘No sir! Honestly – no!’

  ‘How did you get here, then? Those short little legs of yours couldn’t carry you within miles of here!’

  ‘A huge hound that could fly through the sky carried me here. I don’t know how the hound found me or why he left me here in Giants’ Cave,’ replied Rory.

  The giant leaned forward his eyes wide, ‘The Shadow Hound,’ he breathed. ‘That was the Shadow Hound. ‘You have really seen him?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I rode on him! He was the one who brought me here.’

  Rory stared into the fire, wondering if the giants would believe his far-fetched story or just decide to tear him limb from limb, or whatever giants did to unwelcome guests.

  ‘I am searching for my sister, Mia. She disappeared from home, kidnapped by a crazy old woman from next door,’ he confided, hoping they would believe his far-fetched story. ‘It was the hound who brought me here. We flew all through the night searching for Mia, but there is no sign or trace of her, and then when the sun came up that stupid dog just took off and left me stranded here. I don’t know what I’m going to do! I’ll never get Mia back from Bella Blackwell. I’ll never find her!’ he sighed hopelessly.

  Birch had come over and was sitting on the arm of her father’s chair. ‘You saw the Shadow Hound, rode on his back! Da, did you hear that?’

  The giant nodded, puffing slowly on his pipe. ‘Times are changing, the Huges and the Longs have been saying it for some time. I’ve heard tell of the great Shadow Hound, of course, but we have never actually seen him.’

  ‘He was outside our house back home in Glenkilty, waiting for me, and somehow I just knew what the creature wanted me to do.’

  ‘So you rode with him!’ gasped Birch, her eyes shining.

  ‘Bella! Who’s this Bella, then?’ asked Birch’s mother, wiping her hands on her apron.

  ‘Mrs Blackwell is an old lady who moved into the house next door to us. My mum said that we should be neighbourly, be nice to her. I used to call her the Bird Woman but Mia said that she was a Dragon Woman, that she kept dragons, baby dragons. I didn’t believe her,’ he blurted out breathlessly. ‘I told her she was imagining it! Why didn’t I listen to Mia? Why didn’t I do what my granny told me and mind her? She was so scared … none of this would have happened if I’d only–’

  ‘Hold on now, young man, your words are running away with you. Calm down!’ urged the giant’s wife.

  ‘Dragon, did you say?’

  ‘Yes. Mia said she saw them in Bella’s house.’

  The giant drew in his breath, taking a strong puff of his pipe. ‘I haven’t heard tell of dragons for many years, centuries even. They were all killed, destroyed, though there were always rumours that some had survived and gone into hiding – much like ourselves. Dragons, fancy that! Perhaps the old ways have not disappeared altogether, no matter what the Great Mage may have said or done.’

  Rory couldn’t make much sense of this, but before he could ask the woman butted in. ‘Why has this Bella woman stolen your sister?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Rory miserably. ‘Mia thought that Bella was just a lonely old woman and tried to be her friend. She wanted Mia to be some sort of an apprentice and learn about dragons!’

  ‘I wish I had a dragon,’ sighed Birch.

  ‘Birch!’ Her mother sounded shocked. ‘Are you wishing yourself spirited away by some nasty witch or sorcerer? Sorcery is behind this, mark my words!’

  The giant got to his feet and went to a heavy bookshelf above the fireplace. Pulling an ancient-looking book from the middle of a row of books, he lifted it down, and, sitting down again, he began to turn over the heavy parchment pages.

  Rory could read the title on the spine. The Giant Chronicles. He watched as Birch’s father turned over page after page.

  ‘Here it is!’ he said at last, stopping and lowering the book to the floor.

  Rory clambered down off the chair and knelt down on the fireside rug to get a glimpse of what Bran wanted to show him.

  One side of the page was covered with pictures of dragons, flying wings outspread. On the other side of the page, written in red ink were the words: The History of the Dragon Wars.

  The giant stabbed his finger at the picture.

  ‘Look close, boy!’

  Rory studied the drawing. It showed fire flaming from the mouth of an enormous black dragon, and although it was only a picture, he could see the glint of anger in his eyes. Behind him perched a crowd of smaller dragons. But it was only as Rory bent closer that he was able to make out the strange figure standing amongst them. He blinked, unable to believe what he saw there. It was Bella Blackwell, there was no doubt about it. Her face was almost hidden by a swirling black cloak, but he could still recognise her.

  ‘It’s Bella!’

  ‘Aye,’ said the giant, ‘that’s what I thought!’

  Birch almost knocked her father over, trying to get a look, and even the giant’s wife peered at it closely.

  ‘I’ve got to find Mia,’ declared Rory. ‘She’s caught up in something dangerous. This proves it.’

  ‘You’re right, boy. I’ll call a meeting at Giants’ Cave,’ said Bran Bigg seriously. ‘Someone may be able to help you in your quest. But now you lo
ok tired, tonight you must get some rest.’

  The Journey

  Rory slept fitfully, curled up on a cushion in the corner. His mind was in turmoil, giants and dragons and witches all haunting his dreams, terrifying him. How had he fallen into this strange world? What had Mia got him involved in? There was no sense or logic to any of this. It was as if everything he had refused to believe in had suddenly come to life, challenging him.

  He had managed to sneak a look at a few more pages of the book, which had given him some idea of the giants’ history. They seemed a gentle people who had farmed and worked hard for centuries, creating a fertile land for themselves. Then things changed, and war came. The giants were used as weapons, striding into battle in heavy armoury, or used as carriers to bring other soldiers to the front. Many seem to have died that way judging by the illustrations in the Chronicles. The pictures changed as giants became the slaves of men, used to build castles and forts and temples and monuments. Families were destroyed. Rory was saddened by what he read and saw. Only a few giants survived, crossing deep swamps and hiding in the grey mountains and hillsides, blending with the caves and rocks which became their refuge and their home. Here they took to tilling the soil once again. It was a sad but honourable history.

  When he woke, the book was gone, deposited back on the high shelf where it would be impossible for him to reach it without a ladder.

  The giants were very kind to him and took care of him well. Bran proudly showed him their farmlands, where giants laboured in the rolling fields and hillsides, tending their crops. Rory was amazed to see tomatoes the size of footballs, runner beans like green moving chains that clambered up huge canes towering above him, and apples like heavy, green cannon balls.

  Birch followed him around, prattling on and on, reminding him of his sister. She insisted on showing him off to a group of shy friends, as if he was a new toy. Her friends’ shyness soon gave way to curiosity and they quizzed him about his country.

  When they left, he asked Birch if she had a map of the region.

  She obliged him by unrolling a huge map across the kitchen table.

  Rory walked across the map, from one corner to another, trying to make any sense of it. Birch’s chubby finger pointed out Giants’ Cave where she lived. Rory tried to memorise the geography of the region spread out before him.

  ‘What is this?’ he asked, pointing to the word Terra written in the top right-hand corner of the map.

  ‘That is where we are! Our farms and lands are part of the territory they call Terra,’ she replied.

  ‘What lies beyond?’

  She shrugged. ‘Swamps and forests, the deep woods. I have only heard tell of them – the other territories.’

  She blushed deeply, and he could tell that she thought she had said too much.

  Rory sighed. So this was only a small part of it. There was still much he needed to learn.

  The sky outside the cave was dark and the night was cold. Frost covered the ground and Rory’s breath almost froze as he walked along beside Birch. Huge figures formed a semicircle on the dark hillside, where the giants were gathered around a glowing fire. One giant face after another turning to stare at him as he approached.

  ‘’Tis the boy!’ Bran drew Rory into the circle of enormous men, women and children. ‘This is Roree Murfee, a human. The Dragon Woman has taken his sister, spirited her away!’

  A rumble of gossip rippled round the fire at the mention of the Dragon Woman.

  ‘But the Dragon Woman died hundreds of years ago with all the dragons – every Giant knows that!’ insisted a man with a mane of roaring red hair and a long beard. ‘The boy must be mistaken.’

  ‘Longbeard Huge, you do well to express your doubts, but the boy recognised the Dragon Woman in our Chronicles only a few days ago.’

  ‘The dragons are dead, sky protect them,’ murmured a huge woman who towered over Bran Bigg. ‘Good ones and bad ones, all gone.’

  ‘His sister saw dragons, only babies mind you,’ interrupted Birch’s mother. ‘She told the boy about them but he didn’t believe her, more’s the pity! The Shadow Hound brought him this far, so I reckon the least we can do is help.’

  A mutter of disbelief and objections filled the air.

  ‘I saw a dragon!’

  Everyone turned to see who had spoken.

  ‘I saw a dragon, a black one, flying skywards out beyond the Boundary two days ago,’ declared a plump-faced boy about Rory’s own age.

  ‘Why did you not tell someone, young Nilo?’

  The boy giant looked nervously across at his father, Longbeard. ‘Because I knew no one would believe me and I’d get into trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Aye, trouble, for not being at school and for going outside the Boundary.’

  ‘What was this dragon like?’ asked an elderly giant who was sitting near the fire and toasting some bread for himself.

  ‘At first, I thought it was just some kind of strange bird blown off-course. But it cast a black shadow across the ground, and when I saw that, I knew what it was. It was definitely a dragon! I was scared. I ran and hid in an old ruin till it flew past.’

  ‘So, there be dragons again!’ said an ancient giant who balanced on crutches made of two tree trunks. His head was covered in wispy white hair and his front teeth were missing. ‘And the sorceress, Bella, has returned and will regain her powers, and she will try to rule the four territories of Aland! She will use the dragons to quell resistance. Her magic will grow more powerful, day by day. We giants may be in grave danger.’

  ‘Bran says it was the Shadow Hound who brought the stranger here,’ said the ancient giant, looking around the campfire. ‘We should remember that it was the noble Shadow Hound who also brought the first giant across the filthy swamps, when he lifted Hugo Long from the battlefield where he had been left to die and brought him to the safety of Giants’ Cave many years ago. He has now brought the boy to us, perhaps to warn us, or simply knowing that we would help him!’

  ‘Aye! We should help the boy!’ agreed a chorus of voices. ‘We owe it to the Shadow Hound.’

  The giants talked long into the night, devising a plan to take Rory to where the dragon had been seen. Bran Bigg would go with him, and young Nilo would lead the way.

  The Swamp

  Before they set off the next day, the giant’s wife served them an enormous breakfast of porridge, crumpets, honey and cherry juice. She filled Rory’s backpack with food for the journey: a dried fish, some oatmeal biscuits, strips of charred beef, baby potatoes and a human-sized loaf of fresh bread that she had baked early that morning especially for him. There was also a flask of spring water and a sealed pitcher of juice. Birch cried all morning, begging him not to go.

  ‘Stay with us here, Rory, and I could be your sister!’ she pleaded.

  Rory shook his head, thinking of Mia and how scared and alone she must be.

  Birch squeezed him tight as he was leaving, and he almost felt dizzy!

  ‘What about a hug for me?’ Nilo teased Birch. Birch blushed deeply, as usual.

  Eventually, all the farewells were made and it was time to leave Giants’ Cave. Bran led the way down the hillside. Rory slipped and stumbled as the heavy rocks and stones moved beneath his feet. He was thankful for the giant boy beside him, who many a time lifted him up off the ground and stopped him from falling. He knew that he was slowing them up. But soon they reached the acres of green pasture land. They walked along, sometimes talking, sometimes not. They told him about the giant families – the Huges, the Biggs, the Longs, the Talls, the Stouts – and he in turn told them about his world, about his mother and father and Granny Rose, and the house they lived in, and all about Glenkilty. They shook with laughter when he tried to tell them about television and computers, and called him a liar when he informed them about aeroplanes and cars.

  ‘We don’t believe you, lad. Nobody or nothing could send two hundred people flying through the air, unless it were witchcraft or
high magic!’

  Rory decided it was pointless trying to impress them any more about modern times.

  They walked for hours, eventually stopping because he had to rest. His legs and feet were aching and the terrain was getting worse.

  ‘Let me carry you, lad!’ offered Bran. ‘I used to carry Birch on my shoulders up to a few years ago, and, sure, you’re no load at all.’

  Bran knelt on the ground and Rory clambered on to his broad shoulders, gasping with fear when the giant stood up. He clasped Bran’s head as the ground swayed beneath him.

  ‘You hang on there, Rory lad!’

  Bran and Nilo began to take larger strides now. A vast distance was covered in no time. They only began to slow down as the ground became heavy and muddy.

  ‘It’s the swamp!’ announced Nilo, both giants stopping to look across a vast lake of thick mud.

  ‘What’ll we do now?’ asked Rory, as there seemed to be no way to cross it.

  ‘We wade,’ said Bran firmly, stopping to take off his boots and strip off his trousers. Nilo followed suit.

  Rory was terrified. He had read about such swamps in the Chronicles and he knew how dangerous they could be. He would suffocate in seconds if he fell into the mud.

  Bran was silent as he entered the swamp, the mud squelching and gurgling between his toes. The ooze crept up his legs as he began to wade – to the knees, then to the thighs, then above his backside and up beyond his waist. It clung to his skin, trying to force him to stop walking. Nilo followed beside them, the ooze right up to his chest. Rory could see the fear in the other boy’s eyes, and prayed that they would all make it.

  They were right in the centre of the swamp when Bran lurched. Rory shook wildly as the huge giant seemed to go down on one side, the ooze sticking to his chest and neck and spattering his face. Rory’s own shoes and trousers were now mud-covered too.

  ‘Hang on!’ warned Bran.

  Nilo moved slowly towards them and with his free arm pulled Bran free. Together, they stumbled out of the hole Bran had stepped into.