Valiant

by Sarah McGuire

  “Hillock?” The giant looked at me.

  I bobbed up and down as Iden shrugged. “It said that is what Volar calls it.”

  “It lies!” said the giant. “They all lie!”

  The other giants nodded, and even Iden seemed to hesitate. I needed them to trust me—or at least not fear me.

  “Volar said he did not fear my voice,” I murmured. “But I will stay in your hands, under your power, until he comes. Please. Please, tell him Hillock must speak with him.”

  The giants looked among themselves.

  At last, Iden rumbled, “How would it know to pick such a name, Hylag? No. I will not kill it until Volar comes. I am not the duke’s kadyr.”

  Kadyr. What did that mean? Slave? Whatever it was, it seemed to sway the group.

  “I will go,” said one carrying a massive scythe. He disappeared into the camp.

  I sighed in relief. In just a few minutes, I would see Volar. I looked up at Iden as he peered toward the camp. He winced as another giant approached.

  It wasn’t Volar.

  After a moment, I could see the collar of bones, a pale smudge in the darkness.

  “Be careful, Iden,” said Hylag, gripping his spear. “Here is a Deathless.” He looked down at me. “So much trouble for a lita. Was it worth our lives?”

  Iden’s hand around me tightened.

  No. Not this. I looked toward the camp, but I still did not see Volar.

  The Deathless had reached us. His long hair was plaited back, and he wore some sort of paint on his face. He pointed to me. “Kill it.”

  Iden pulled me back, out of reach.

  The Deathless bared his teeth. “Wring its neck, farmer, or I’ll kill you myself and scatter your pieces in the sea.” He tilted his head as if imagining something that pleased him. “I like that: the fish eating what is left of you and srati you out on your precious kelp.”

  Iden hesitated.

  Would he risk his life for a lita?

  He transferred me to his left hand, and I choked back a shriek. He was going to wring my neck just as the Deathless had commanded. But his hand swung past my head—toward his belt.

  Iden pulled a knife from its sheath.

  I looked to Hylag, half expecting him to swat me from Iden’s hand.

  He and the other giants drew weapons as well.

  Hylag brandished something like a spear with a great, hooked head on it. “I’ve hunted whales three times your size, Ynnix.”

  “Your whales did not carry swords.” Ynnix drew a huge blade with a forked tip from its scabbard, and raised it above his head.

  It was a signal. He must be calling the other Deathless.

  We needed more time for Volar to reach us.

  I looked at Volar’s friends with their weapons: knives, the spear, a pick. Nothing a soldier would carry. They’d have little chance against the Deathless. I looked up at Iden and saw the worry in his eyes. He was protecting me because of Volar.

  Once more, I saw the heads of the scouts in the wagons. Once more, I heard Volar telling me not to hurt his friends. These friends, the giants. No more uten would die because of me.

  It was time to speak.

  “The duke will not be pleased that you have deprived him of his prey,” I shouted. Ynnix jumped at the sound. I waited until I had his full attention, until he leaned toward me, eyes narrowed. “I am the champion of Reggen. The duke will want to see me himself.”

  Iden’s hand trembled, but he did not squeeze me to death, though he must have wanted to. Tears burned the back of my eyes.

  Ynnix laughed. It sounded like something being twisted in on itself, like the willow the Deathless had ripped from the earth at the duke’s command.

  “You lie,” said Ynnix, “like all liten! The champion of Reggen was not a she.”

  “The champion is a woman,” I said. “Why do you think Reggen has thrown me out?”

  I could tell the lie made sense to him. “Why should I believe you, lita? If you do speak truth, why would the duke want you?”

  “I’m not asking you to free me. And I did not say the duke wanted me. Only that he would want to be the one who kills me. Would you deprive him of that opportunity?”

  Volar’s friends must have sensed Ynnix’s hesitation.

  “It would not be so great a mistake to kill it, Ynnix,” taunted one off to my right. “The duke would only remove you from the Deathless. It would not be so bad to return home and work the forge.”

  Ynnix was a blacksmith?

  Ynnix snarled, then spun on his heel. “Follow me! I will take our captive to the duke.”

  Our, he said. I covered my mouth with my hand to cover the catch in my breath. He wouldn’t kill me now. At least, not until the duke gave the order.

  Iden’s grip on me loosened as we began to walk. In thanks, I patted his hand like a child bringing her palms down against a tabletop. Iden barely nodded. His brows were drawn low over his eyes, his mouth set. Shame, thick as summer heat, smothered what little courage I had. In minutes, Volar would look the same. He’d never call me Hillock again.

  Did the uten have a word for traitor?

  Ynnix led us deeper into the camp. It was near sunrise, and I could see more and more in the pale, gray light, despite the clot of dark clouds to the north. Every few strides, we passed Deathless shouting orders to other giants. Giants moved purposefully, stamping out fires, rolling up blankets the size of small lakes, and sky above … readying weapons. They were preparing for war. Even the sounds in the camp were bigger: the roar of campfires as large as huts, the crash of supplies being collected.

  And still, no Volar. We were getting closer and closer to the duke’s crimson tent. How could I explain everything to Volar if the duke was there? He’d kill me first.

  I caught a hint of the song I’d heard when I stood on the walls with Galen, the one that made me think of hearth fires. I closed my eyes, trying to remember it, gathering the melody note by note. When the song grew clear, I began to hum. Maybe Volar would hear me.

  Iden’s hand jerked when he heard my humming. I patted his hand again. This time, he nodded. A moment later, Hylag began to sing. I’d heard snatches of the giants’ songs on the walls, but this was like wind or water—it washed over and through me. Every tune I’d heard until then was only a husk of sound.

  Ynnix turned back to glare at us, but a shout claimed his attention. More giants were jogging toward us: more Deathless. He strode forward to meet them, and they saluted, right fists over their hearts.

  “The farmer says he has the champion of Reggen. I take it to the high king.”

  The Deathless looked at me and laughed, but I didn’t care. I held Hylag’s song inside me. For a little while, it had pushed the fear aside.

  “The dull farmer carries it?”

  “Perhaps the champion will speak and kill them, too.”

  “If they do not die of lack-wit first!”

  A Deathless stepped close to peer at me. “Its voice could not be big enough to kill.”

  Ynnix shrugged. “The voice is like a bird’s: thin, no heart. Perhaps it only touches weak minds.”

  I remembered what Volar had told Galen and me: how the other giants had not been able to hear anything else in a human voice. He truly was unique among the uten. I was right, I told myself. He really is—

  The Deathless laughed again. “The farmers are in great danger, then!”

  “What is this?” The question rolled out like thunder, stopping their laughter.

  “Volar!” My heart rose just to see him.

  Iden held me up, though I noticed he was careful to keep me out of the reach of the Deathless. “It said it knew you.”

  “I have to talk to you, Volar,” I murmured, hoping I spoke low enough that only he would hear.

  He cocked his head. “Hillock?”

  “You know this lita?” Ynnix snorted. “You have grown soft, mountain-breaker, sleeping next to the pens. We know you guard them.”

  “I guar
d the uten,” corrected Volar. “I guard us from the disgrace of acting like animals.”

  Ynnix laughed. “You don’t know how good they taste. But you will! The whale flesh is nearly gone.” He captured Iden’s wrist and yanked the hand that held me close. “I may feed you this one. For your first.”

  His breath smelled like a slaughterhouse. The bones strung around his neck weren’t even clean; clots of browning tissue clung to them. I cringed, bile rising in my throat.

  Volar’s hand came down on Ynnix’s shoulder, the tendons in his forearm rigid as he squeezed. Ynnix ignored the mountain-breaker’s hold at first, then gasped as it tightened.

  “You will let her go.” Volar’s voice was like an avalanche.

  Ynnix staggered back.

  Iden swung me away out of reach, and I patted his hand again to let him know I was safe.

  “Sir!” piped a voice from below. “Sir!”

  Will was on his crutches, thumping among the giants’ feet like a three-legged puppy.

  My heart lurched when I saw him down there. “Be careful!”

  Ynnix, face still burning, raised a boot over the boy.

  I screamed and clawed, desperate to reach Will. The world tipped as Iden flinched. From the corner of my eye, I saw a blur as Volar swept his foot under Ynnix’s. Will tumbled aside a moment before Ynnix’s foot fell.

  Ynnix snarled to see Will still alive, then lunged toward Volar. But one of the Deathless stopped him with a hand on his shoulder—the shoulder that Volar had gripped. Ynnix winced and shrugged away.

  “Not yet,” said the Deathless, nodding toward Will. “It is the duke’s kadyr. Leave it in peace.”

  Ynnix shoved Volar back. “I will not forget this, mountain-breaker.”

  Will, still treacherously close to Ynnix, gathered his crutches.

  “We will take the lita to the duke now.” barked Ynnix. “I am ashamed it has lived this long.”

  Iden handed me to Volar, who caught me up gently.

  “Please,” I whispered. “May I see the boy?”

  Volar scooped Will up and held him close to me as we followed Ynnix. “You know the duke’s kadyr?”

  “Kadyr?” I asked.

  “Small animal. Pet.”

  I nodded and pressed a hand to Will’s cheek, wanting to be sure of him myself. “Yes, I know him.” Then to Will, I said, “Are you well?”

  He nodded, all business. “I like this bandage, Sir. It keeps my foot from hurting.”

  “Have you seen Lord Verras?” I asked.

  “He’s been with the duke all night. But they hurt the king. The duke wanted to show them that a human couldn’t squeeze a rock. What are you going to do?”

  Couldn’t squeeze a rock? What did that mean? But we didn’t have time. And Galen hadn’t found the heart.

  I took Will’s face in both my hands. “Listen to me,” I whispered, so soft I hoped the Deathless would not hear me over the noise of the camp. “We know why the duke doesn’t die. He’s cut his heart out and hidden it.” Will didn’t even blink at the outrageous news. “We can’t stop him until we destroy it.”

  “And you need me to find it,” said Will.

  “You believe me, just like that?” I exclaimed.

  “I saw the duke, that day on the wall. I’ll find it, Sir.”

  I hesitated, then brushed the hair out of his eyes, the way his mother used to. “I love you, do you hear me?”

  “Don’t say it like that!” Will scowled. “That’s how Papa said good-bye. I’ll see you again, Sir. I promise.” Then he tugged on Volar’s sleeve. “Put me down, please.”

  Volar tilted his head to me, asking if he should.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  In one swift movement, Volar set Will down. He glanced at the giant with the scythe. “Watch him, Ober.”

  I leaned over Volar’s fingers to better see Will. He waved at me, then hobbled off.

  “Did you hear what I told Will?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It was a story that I told you and the king’s cousin, Hillock. A child’s tale.”

  “It’s more than a child’s tale, Volar.”

  He grunted and glanced down at me. “You should not have come, Hillock. I do not think this will end peaceably.”

  Nor did I. Volar would hate me once I told him. I remembered how his voice had carried: Two of our scouts were killed because of your city. Two good uten dead because of the lies of your champion.

  “I have to tell you something important, Volar.”

  He cocked his head. “That is why you came?”

  We were moving fast, the giant’s strides eating up the short distance to the crimson tent. There was so little time.

  “Volar, do you remember the night you found me? How you could hear what I felt? And how you are the only one of the uten who can?”

  He shook his head. “Hillock, I do not hear you so well as I thought. I learned that when last we spoke. I was too proud.”

  “No, you weren’t. You heard the truth.”

  He didn’t respond. More Deathless joined Ynnix, flanking us. Volar pulled his great pick from the sling on his back and held it in his other hand. He was worried.

  Tell him. Just say it.

  The giants stopped in front of the duke’s tent. The outer layer was brocade, not the usual weatherproof canvas. It was already darkened with spots of mold and rot.

  Ynnix knelt before it. No time left …

  I clutched the top of Volar’s finger. “I’m the champ—”

  Ynnix’s voice rolled over my small one. “High King! I bring you a tribute. The lita claims to be the champion of Reggen.”

  I felt the shock travel through Volar. He trembled and I did not have the courage to look up and see if it was in surprise or rage.

  Chapter 38

  “What is this, Hillock?” murmured Volar. “I do not believe it.”

  I did not have time to answer. The flaps of the crimson tent opened and the duke stepped out. From my vantage point in the air, he looked so small, so human, one footfall away from death. Yet this entire army revered him. And no wonder. He stood as if he were a giant, gazing up at the uten surrounding him.

  “She’s come, has she?” called the duke calmly. Too calmly. “Put her down.”

  How did he know about me? It must have been King Eldin. I’d been mistaken to think he could remain strong.

  I dropped through the air as Volar knelt to place me down. For the first time since Iden had taken hold of me outside camp, my feet touched earth. They tingled and burned, but I hardly noticed. All I knew was that Volar kept his hand wrapped around me. It was warmth against the morning chill. It was armor.

  “Release her,” commanded the duke.

  Volar remained kneeling, his left hand around me.

  The duke glared up at him. After a moment, he turned his attention to me. “Why have you come?”

  “I did not come to see you, Your Grace.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. But here you are, Reggen’s champion, just minutes before I claim the city. You are mistaken if you think I will let you drift away.”

  A human arm pushed aside the tent flap … and Lord Leymonn walked out, holding a crossbow and—

  “Galen!”

  I stumbled back against Volar’s palm. I didn’t know where to look: at the duke who made me feel hunted, even with Volar’s hand around me; at Leymonn, who was supposed to be dead; or at Galen, his hands chained together.

  “What are you doing here, Saville?”

  “I realized something. Other stories might be true, too. I—”

  “Are you mad?” Galen whispered through clenched teeth. He was furious.

  Leymonn yanked Galen back savagely. “Lord Verras was so cooperative when he visited the duke last night. Too cooperative. Even you—” He smiled slowly as he corrected himself. “No. Especially you know that he is always thinking, always turning a situation to his advantage. The duke did not want to chain Lord Verras, but I thought it wise.”r />
  Galen met my gaze and almost imperceptibly shook his head. He hadn’t been able to find the duke’s heart.

  Leymonn laughed. “You look crestfallen, Miss Saville—”

  The duke pushed Leymonn back. “And you talk too much, Lord Leymonn. I have little time before I take Reggen. Remember who let you live.”

  Leymonn’s face darkened, but the duke didn’t notice. He stepped toward me, eyes narrowed. “I know you!” he exclaimed. “You were the maid to my future wife. You asked about Oma.…” I felt Volar’s hand spasm. “And you didn’t think much of the champion. Yet, here you are, maid and champion! Oh yes, you will talk to me.”

  The duke stepped closer. Once again, I saw madness glowing behind his green and blue eyes. When had he first looked at his reflection and decided he would reclaim all that the old emperor had lost? His eyes roved over me as the Tailor’s had, seeking weakness, imperfection.

  I’d learned long ago how to weather such a gaze. I folded my arms and stared back at him, silent.

  “I have no time to play with you. Today, I claim what is due me. You will tell me why you are here or …” His gaze flicked to Galen and he smiled. “… or I will make you watch the regent’s execution.”

  “You won’t kill him if I tell you?” I asked.

  “Oh, Champion!” The duke laughed. “How did you manage to outwit my scouts? I will still execute the regent. I just won’t make you watch.”

  I looked at Galen, then up to Volar, who still kept his hand around me. “Volar, I—”

  “Talk to me, Champion! To me!” barked the duke. He smiled when I turned back to face him. “You have until the sun rises.”

  I looked toward the east. Half an hour to convince Volar that he was high king. To save Galen. I rested my hands on Volar’s fingers and looked at the giants gathered around us—the Deathless scowling down at me, Volar’s friends with their cautious, curious gazes. It was like standing in the clearing of a moving, breathing forest.

  And then I knew what to do. It was like remembering the next verse in a song that I hadn’t sung in a while, when I couldn’t find the words ahead of time. Yet when I opened my mouth to sing them, they’d be there—and not a second before.

  I nodded to the duke. “Your Grace, I came to speak to a friend.”