Against the Giants

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  Malowan shrugged. “We’ve still some loading and settling to do. Vlandar will let us know what we need to know.”

  “P’raps,” the girl replied. She gazed back the way they’d come. “Wonder where that fool of a rich lad’s got ’isself to?”

  “He’s waiting,” Khlened growled. “I can almost sense him m’self, waiting for us to be on the move and out of this walled town so’s he can follow once more.”

  Malowan sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, Khlened, I fear you are probably right.”

  Just then, Vlandar reemerged and called the company together while the local men were storing their own weapons and supplies. When everyone had gathered, he explained, “These men patrol the river between here and Istivin, and they know the dangers. For an old landsman like myself, they’ll prove good instructors at poling a boat and reading the river. We’ve only a few hours of daylight left, but the farther we get upriver tonight means one less hour tomorrow and the day after.”

  Malowan looked at each of them in turn then nodded. “It’s a good plan. Let’s be off.”

  * * *

  Several hours later they stopped for the night against the northern bank of the Davish River where it was undercut by high spring flow. Here, they could not be seen from the south, were partly protected by rock face to east and west, and reasonably comfortable on a pebble-strewn shoreline. Even without a fire—the Flen guards had advised against one—they were fairly warm. With a nearly full moon, they could see each other well even in the shadow of the overhang.

  Rowan and Maera spent an hour or so scouting the area. Upon their return, Rowan announced that their tagalong was still tagging along.

  “The lad’s impatient. He may yet give up,” was all Vlandar would say.

  “Well, better he’s out there than here,” Maera grumbled.

  Lhors smiled but said nothing. Maera had already proven to be much sharper tongued than her sister. Rowan actually smiled and spoke to him on occasion.

  Khlened mumbled something under his breath.

  Rowan smiled at Lhors now, but her eyes were wicked. “Maera, I don’t believe the barbarian likes us. I wonder why.”

  “Yes,” Maera said flatly. “Which is it, barbarian, that we’re rangers, female, or half-elf? Or is it just that we’re not Fist barbarian women?”

  A tense silence followed. Lhors saw Malowan stand to arbitrate, but before he could speak, Khlened looked startled and possibly even embarrassed at being called on his rudeness. He finally mumbled, “All that, praps. Don’t know any elves—”

  “Maera and I aren’t elves,” Rowan said mildly enough. “Our father is human, a warrior like yourself, northerner.”

  “Oh.” The barbarian glanced at them. “Don’t know any half-elves or any rangers either. Just that… they’re odd, live in the woods, talk to the bears.”

  “Bears make more sense than people sometimes,” Maera said, and for once she sounded almost friendly. “To us, you’re the odd one. Who’d want to live in snow and ice country?”

  “Because the north is Fist country,” Khlened replied promptly. “Fist barbarians are born and reared there. Besides, better than to melt in the south.”

  “We don’t like heat much ourselves,” Rowan said. Silence followed again, but it wasn’t quite as stiff a silence as it had been. Khlened settled back and rummaged through his pack for a stick of jerky as Vlandar apportioned the watches.

  It clouded over and rained during the late hours, but only briefly. Vlandar took the last watch. At sunrise, he had them on their way once again, both boats moving slowly but steadily upstream while Rowan and Maera scouted along the south shore and the Flennish guards took the north.

  Lhors felt useless. He could pole, but he wasn’t strong enough to keep up with Vlandar or Khlened. Vlandar put him to working the tiller because he could follow orders, but he couldn’t begin to understand how to read the river.

  Vlandar seemed to have picked up river travel quickly. When the wind drove east to west for part of the afternoon and they were able to use the sails, the warrior brought Lhors up to the bow and began pointing out how to recognize shallow water, hidden rocks, swift currents, swirling currents, and other dangers. Shortly after, the winds died and Lhors went back to the tiller—still unable to work out their way by himself but easier with his role in steering the boat.

  “There are hill giants prowling about,” Rowan reported at sunset when they picked her up along the southern shore, “but there is nowhere for them to cross. We’ll be safe enough along the northern shore.”

  “That’s good to know,” Vlandar replied, “but we’ll still set a double guard tonight and light no fires. No use in tempting fate.”

  * * *

  Two more long days of hard work brought them to the Sterich capital of Istivin. Lhors thought it a distinct step down from Cryllor. The market was smaller, and there were few goods for sale except food and weaponry. The periphery walls were utilitarian, and everything close to them stank of the cauldrons of pitch kept over low-burning fires in case of sudden attack from bandits, pirates, giants from the Steading, or other enemies. Apparently Istivin had many of them.

  Vlandar kept them in the city only long enough to check with the captain of the city guard for any information about the Steading and other perils in the vicinity. While he was gone, Lhors helped Pferic and Mal replenish the company’s supply of bread, jerked meat, and other things that could be eaten without the need for fires.

  Past Istivin, the Davish took an abrupt turn to the south and became narrower and more shallow. The current was slower, but sandbars and submerged rocks were more prevalent, so they could proceed no faster.

  Two days beyond Istivin, they beached the boats on the innermost edge of a bend in the river and began distributing goods, extra maps, water bottles and various supplies in case anyone was separated from the group. The Flennish men turned the boats, then beached them again and brought out dun-colored nets to drape over nearby trees for cover. In the same way, they blocked the main opening of a cavern that could hold all the horses. Pferic and Zyb had the beasts inside and tethered to a line near a tiny stream that wound through the cave. Several paces upstream, there was a hole broken through the roof. Where sunlight came through the hole, grass grew next to the water. It wouldn’t serve the horses for long, but Pferic had brought grain enough to last a while, and the Flennish guards knew places nearby where they could be grazed in relative safety.

  Malowan spent some time reminding Pferic how to check the charm he and Nemis had concocted. With the tiny amulet, Pferic would know if he and Zyb should take the boats and horses and head back to Flen or if they should wait for the company to return.

  Vlandar allowed the company one full day to rest up from the rigors of upriver travel, then set off with his band, afoot, going south across a narrow band of flat country that soon went into hills and then into mountainous country. The Steading, according to his maps, was three days away, no more.

  It took all three days, partly because they needed to go to ground for some time the first day to avoid a large company of bandits, and again the next when three giants stopped to graze a flock of sheep—stolen, Lhors thought.

  Just after midday on the third day, Vlandar stopped the company in a thick copse of trees and pointed south. “See the two-pronged peak that’s covered in snow? The Steading is this side of it, just beyond that ridge.”

  “Can we see it from the ridge?” Lhors asked. His feet ached despite all his years of hunting with his father afoot, and he was cold, tired, and scared.

  “No. The ridge is too high. I’m told there are caves nearby. With luck, we’ll be able to store our provisions and rest the night.”

  “Caves,” Maera growled. “This near the Steading, the giants will know them, too.”

  “Yes,” Vlandar said, “but if the reports are true, there are many that are more human-sized. Young giants might play in such caves if the Steading were not a fortress, but babes from that
fort are not allowed to play outside.”

  Khlened shook his head. “We’ve caves in the north. I dislike ’em. Bears and worse make them their home.”

  “Bears?” Agya said and shuddered.

  “We’ll make sure any cave we use has a small entry and no back door,” Malowan assured her.

  Rowan, who was peering out of the concealing branches to the north, suddenly interrupted their conversation. “Vlandar, come have a look.”

  Vlandar and the others came to where she crouched and saw what had caught her attention. A lone figure was approaching them. Squinting to try to make out the details, Vlandar finally said, “It’s Plowys.”

  Agya spat. “Hoped maybe a bear’d eaten him.”

  “No such luck,” Maera replied flatly.

  Vlandar sighed. “We may as well wait here. We can’t evade him, and we can’t send him back. He’ll simply refuse to go, and we can’t tie him up and leave him, tempting as it is. Evade him, and he might ride up to the Steading gates and demand to join his company.” He gave the barbarian a hard look. “And no, it’s no answer to let him do just that. He’d give us away as soon as he opened his mouth—or they’d torture him and learn of us anyway. I prefer to keep our presence secret for a while. We might learn more that way. Besides, this way we may be able to keep control of him.”

  Khlened grumbled. “Hah. Well, if we’re waiting, I’ll wait on my backside.” He settled on a nearby rock, and Nemis sat down next to him.

  Minutes passed as Plowys came on. Apparently, he didn’t know where their company had gone, but he was making his way to the very copse of trees where they lay hid.

  “Let me handle this,” Vlandar said as he stepped out of the trees, waved to the young man, and then resumed his hiding place.

  Plowys saw him and spurred his horse forward. Crashing through the trees with no attempt at stealth, he vaulted from the saddle. He was still smirking, but before he could say anything, Vlandar pounced, hauling him off his feet by his shirt and throwing him to the ground.

  Maera and Rowan grabbed his winded horse and did their best to quiet the beast.

  “I chose not to bring you on this journey, boy!” Vlandar hissed. “You were not wanted, and you are still not wanted!”

  Plowys stared at him, slack-jawed. “I-I—”

  “Silence! I am on the king’s mission. If I chose, I could kill you now for ignoring my orders.”

  The boy paled. “You wouldn’t dare!” he managed as he got to his feet and began to dust himself off. “My mother would—”

  “She is not here,” Nemis said grimly as he came to stand over the fallen youth. “We are, and your precious mother has no hold over me, boy.”

  Plowys licked his lips. “You won’t do it.” But he wouldn’t meet Vlandar’s eyes or the mage’s. He glanced at the circle of grim faces, then fixed on the paladin. “You won’t,” he told Malowan, “and you won’t let them, will you?”

  Vlandar and Malowan exchanged tired looks, and the paladin sighed. “I dare not, if I would remain a paladin. But neither does that mean I openly welcome you. My order strives for purity, but few of us are truly free of petty emotions.”

  “It is not petty,” Vlandar growled. He strode forward, leveling a finger at Plowys’ nose. The boy eyed it warily. “You will give me your solemn oath here and now that you will behave as a fighter. You will cooperate with everyone here. Everyone.” he added as he named the company in turn. “Your life may depend on how good a thief Agya is, or how good a job Lhors can do watching our backs for enemies. You are no better than anyone else here.

  “And you are a common member of a company where I am captain. You will obey my orders or the orders of whomever I put in charge of you. Should you do otherwise, I will order you tied and left on the spot. Do you understand?”

  Plowys nodded almost meekly.

  “Young idiot,” Nemis muttered as the youth went to tend his horse.

  Khlened scowled. “Don’t trust the snotty little beast so far’s I could spit him.”

  Vlandar’s mouth twitched. “I know. Why do you think you’re keeping an eye on him for me?”

  Khlened smiled, but Lhors did not envy Plowys his newfound protector.

  While the rest of the company hid in a small valley sheltered by trees and huge boulders, Lhors joined Maera and Rowan in scouting for a suitable base camp. For once, Lhors finally proved himself useful. Aside from the rangers and Vlandar, he was the only member of the company experienced in hunting in the open without being seen. Although the trio saw no giants, there were signs of danger everywhere: huge footprints, here and there a tree that had obviously been felled by a massive blow, and the crude scrawlings of orcs and other creatures.

  Despite what Vlandar had been told, there were precious few suitable caves in the area. The few they had found were either too small or were in plain sight of the giants’ hold. There were also a few caverns too narrow or too low for even Agya to enter.

  After several hours of fruitless searching, they finally found a suitable site. Lhors went through the small chamber, making certain it had no other holes that could let in bears, snakes, or even nastier things. After the company moved in, Vlandar set the rangers to watching for enemy and gathering firewood in case it was possible to have a fire. While the rest of the party was busy settling in, Vlandar sent Nemis to see what he could learn of the giants’ fortress.

  Lhors pronounced the cave as a good safety, but he was grateful that Khlened, who’d come in with an armful of wood, also checked the dark corners and agreed with him. “No places for anything bigger’n a bug to get in. And I found a chimney—bit of a hole going west with the wind blowing that way, as well. We could have a fire for hot tea or soup, and the smoke won’t blow toward the Steading. Shouldn’t come out anywhere about at all, in fact.”

  “I’m still not sure about fire,” Vlandar said, “but perhaps Nemis or Mal can keep it from unfriendly noses. I admit I’d welcome a hot meal or at least a warm drink.”

  Not long after full dark, Nemis and Malowan were hard at work on a fire. Mal constructed a pile of very dry sticks while Nemis muttered a spell over the chimney hole. The air around it sparkled briefly, and smoke that began a pale gray just above the pile of kindling turned clear as it swirled through the mage’s fingers. Suddenly, Lhors couldn’t smell it either.

  Maera, to Lhors’ surprise, began preparing a soup from the dry packets they all carried, and to his mind it was as good smelling as anything Gran had made.

  Gran, he thought sadly. I wonder where she is tonight. At the moment, she seemed very far away, almost like someone from another life. That was good. He would mourn his people properly later, once he’d done his best to avenge them.

  “All right,” Vlandar announced to everyone as the last of his company settled down. “Remember that we need to change our regular patterns. Hill giants are active at night, mostly. By daybreak, all but a few servants or guards will be sleeping or passed out. Remember that we are infiltrating to learn what we can and wreak any damage we can. We need information. Remember that this”—he held up his interior map—“is blank beyond the entry and the guard tower. We know nothing about how the Steading is set up inside. There may be traps, and there will certainly be guards. We need to know what’s beyond the entry, so I’m sending Mal and Agya in first.”

  “What?” Plowys blurted. “Why?”

  “Mal’s a paladin and has protection we don’t: he can sense evil. And Agya is a thief.”

  “Was a thief,” Malowan interjected mildly.

  Agya wrinkled her nose but said nothing.

  Vlandar shrugged. “She has talent, and she uses it for our benefit. I tested her myself. She has a phenomenal memory, and she can penetrate a maze and map it in detail afterward.”

  “’Tis no talent. Was needed, back in th’ city,” the girl mumbled with a sidelong glance at her mentor.

  “She’ll fill in the map for me, and I will draw it out for the rest of us,” Vlandar said.
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  “And if Malowan and Agya are caught?” Maera demanded sharply.

  “It is a risk,” the warrior conceded, “but not so much as all of us going into an unfamiliar place. What if one of us opens the wrong door and walks into the barracks just as a company is arming to go plunder?” Vlandar eyed them all. “If we have to fight, we are no longer gathering information, and it is vital we learn why the Steading giants are attacking and razing villages and if they intend to go against cities next. Remember that we’re allowed to keep treasure only if we find out what’s going on and why.”

  Nemis stepped forward, his hands loosely clasped before him. “I can tell you this much,” he said quietly, “I have heard rumors that there is another force that uses the giants for its own ends.”

  Malowan eyed him keenly. “And you know this… how?”

  Nemis shrugged. “Several weeks ago, I saw raiders coming back from up near the Stark Mounds, and they were a mixed company, which is unusual. Hill giants are unmistakable by their bulk, as cloud giants are by their height and fire giants by their coal-black skin. I was nearer than I would have liked to be—close enough that I could hear some of their speech. One hill giant was laughing about orders—some sort of in-joke probably, and one of the fire giants told him to be still, that ‘the Masters’ would have them all killed for such a slip.”

  “There was more than one kind of giant in my village, I think,” Lhors said. “Some were much taller than others. There were many kinds of armor and weapons, but I saw none who were very dark-skinned.”

  “Well,” Malowan said, “before coming in, Nemis and I went out to view the fort, and I can tell you what we have here. The Steading is set low in one of those nasty, damp depressions. All the hills may be dry, but there will be rain in the hollow. Fog is a near constant. That is to our advantage, since the guards won’t be able to see us, and if we’re quiet…”

  Nemis nodded. “I used a simple reveal spell on the fort, and it is a formidable structure. The walls are as thick as I am tall, the logs immense and very damp. An army couldn’t break into it, and fire cannot destroy it. I could sense many within—hill giants, possibly other giants, orcs, trolls and other slaves who serve the giants. I cannot tell you how many of each kind, only that there are many who are armed. Oh, and a cave bear, at least one.”