Agya licked her lips. “A bear?”
“Restrained,” Nemis assured her, “on a chain, perhaps. I sensed metal, anyway.”
“Bears ain’t safe, mage! There was a juggling bear for years in lower market, and old Yoryos kept it chained! Well, it got free during a show and ate ’im!” She shivered.
“I know, Agya.” Malowan laid a hand on her shoulder, “but I sensed the restraints, and I can detect it before it sees or smells us. So, as long as you do not go off on your own… ?”
The little thief’s lips twisted. “Now I won’t.”
“I agree that this place is possibly as near a haven as we will find,” Maera said as she sighted down an arrow to check it for straightness. “It isn’t likely giants will come this way, but our father used to say, ‘If I had a silver penny for every time the completely unexpected happened, I’d have retired to a palace and not a village hut.’” She glanced to Nemis. “This is, after all, an open cave, and it is not that far from the Steading. Think of coming so far only to die because some oversized brute saw light or heard voices.”
“The lady is right,” Nemis said. “I can build an illusionary wall, suitably matched to the local stone, of course.”
Lhors cleared his throat. “Um, but this is their land. If someone made a wall where I knew a cave was, even if I never used it, I would notice.”
Nemis smiled. “Just so. But I have my own version of the wall, and it includes a non-detection spell. Once set around a person or place, those who pass simply won’t notice it.”
Agya laughed. “Oooh, just gimme a spell like that…” She grinned as the paladin cleared his throat ominously. “For certain, I don’t want it now; but to have ’ad it when I was still a-lifting purses…”
Vlandar nudged the paladin. “Changing her are you, Mal?”
“I am,” the paladin replied grimly, “but I’m no miracle-worker.”
Agya seemed to take offense at this and glared at Lhors when he chuckled.
* * *
The air inside the cave stayed constant all night—not quite warm enough for comfort and a little stuffy as the hours passed. By contrast, the predawn air outside was damp and chill.
Malowan tugged the dark hood over his helm and wrapped wool around his arms, pulling the thick cloth around his hands.
Agya matched his actions, then looked up at him. “We on it or no?” she demanded quietly.
“Waiting for Nemis,” he reminded her. He sniffed cautiously, then held up a hand. “No wind—good. We’ll need to be quiet, but the fog should be thick enough to hide us.”
“Fog,” Agya mumbled. “Who’d’a thunk I’d be glad of fog?”
“You won’t be in it for long,” Malowan said. He turned as Nemis came out, two leather thongs clutched in his hand. Malowan took them, touched the smoothed, pale blue stones that had been threaded onto the soft leather, then gave one to Agya. “Put it on,” he said. “Nemis will know where we are by these.”
“And in what condition—” the mage began.
Malowan gestured sharply, silencing him, then sent his eyes flicking toward his ward. Agya was studying the charm and apparently hadn’t heard him.
“Agya,” Malowan said, “please go tell Vlandar that we are ready to depart.”
“But y’just tol’ ’im yourself!” she protested.
“Agya…” the paladin replied with a warning look.
“Oh, all right,” she hissed and disappeared inside the cave.
“I didn’t want her hearing this, Nemis, but you will know if we are taken or dead?”
The mage nodded.
“What if we are taken and they search us?”
“My beneath-notice spell is on the charms,” Nemis replied. “It may only affect the charm and not the wearer, but tell her of it if she still worries about the bear.” He looked skyward. “We had better go now.”
Malowan repositioned the small pack under his cloak and finished just as Agya reemerged. They followed the mage away from the caves, out of the ravine, and up a low, brushy slope.
Near the top, Nemis eased onto his hands and knees. Malowan shoved his cloak aside and crawled after him. Agya, much shorter than either man, went into a low crouch and brought up the rear, keeping a wary eye all around them, though there was little to see and it was still too dark to see very far.
Once they reached the crest, Nemis went flat and tugged Malowan’s ear close. “Can you make it out?” he breathed.
Malowan gazed out and down, then finally nodded.
“Good. Straight down the slope you’ll find a boulder and some thorny scree. Don’t speak once you move from here—it’s near enough the tower that the guards will hear us.”
The paladin nodded again, then drew his ward close. She tensed, then leaned against him briefly.
“Ready?” he asked softly. She gave him Rowan’s sign for We go now. Malowan replied in like fashion, then eyed Nemis. “Lead, we’ll follow.”
Nemis moved out, low on hands and knees.
This side of the hill was steeper than the way they’d come up. The mage reversed himself and eased down feet-first, turned sideways with one hand out to catch at the tough brush so he wouldn’t slide to the bottom. What grass there was here was slick with dew and slippery as ice underfoot. Fortunately, most of the slope was dirt and rock.
Nemis finally stopped and drew them down with him into a shallow depression between a fat boulder and thick brush. Malowan edged forward and gazed down for some moments, then eased silently back, gripped the mage’s shoulder and without further ado, moved to his right and began working his way down into the dell. Agya followed.
The air had been icy cold outside the fort, particularly for Agya who’d had to rub her hands together several times before they were warm enough to manage her metal lockpicks. Mal stood ready with his sword as his ward worked at the massive locks. After several minutes, there was an all-too-loud clack as she freed the innermost tumbler. The door swung open.
Inside, it was cold but not as damp, and the air was stuffy. Malowan smelled unwashed bodies and sweaty furs, but there was no one in sight. Agya stepped away from him, eyes moving nonstop while his were still adjusting to the gloom. It seemed to be a cloakroom, just as Vlandar’s information had indicated. Huge outer garments hung from pegs. The wall to his right held doors, a double doorway flanked by a single door to each side. At least, Malowan thought, there was room for both of them to hide in here.
Chill air rolled down from above—the guard tower, clearly. Someone up there was snoring.
I forgot how huge everything would be, he thought. Agya must be terrified.
Surprisingly, his ward seemed only interested. She eyed him sidelong as he silently moved across the floor to listen at the entry to the tower passage. Malowan signed that there was only one guard and he was sleeping.
Agya turned to check out the rest of the entry-chamber, and he came over to help.
An overturned ale keg contributed to the sour smell, but damp furs and wet wool seemed to account for most of the stench. Agya eyed the various sacks flung down beneath the rack of pegs and shook her head. Nothing worth searching.
He tapped her arm to get her attention, then signed, This way first. He set his shoulder against one of the main doors, created a space just large enough for her to slip through, then followed, easing it silently shut behind them.
A long, broad corridor led to a vast hall with a high ceiling, thick wooden pillars, and a low-burning fire. He could see chairs, benches, piles of cushions, and a huge table on the other side of the fire, but there was no sign or sound of occupants.
Agya jumped as someone to her left beyond another set of double doors snored one bellowing snort. The doors remained closed, and the noise wasn’t repeated.
Deciding that they were safe for the moment, Malowan set his shoulder against the opposite wall and eased down the long passage. Agya sighed quietly and drew a dagger as she followed.
The chamber—a feasting hall, cl
early—was huge. Fire burned merrily in a pit at the room’s center, illuminating some things and casting odd shadows over others. Doors on either side of the room were closed, and there was no sound to indicate what might be beyond them.
Malowan glanced both ways, then ran light-footed to the west doors and listened. Agya started toward him, but he shook his head and signed, Food place. Servants. Agya nodded and laid a hand over her lips, indicating she’d be quiet. The paladin smiled, then moved across the chamber to test the east doors. Safe, he finally indicated. Agya clapped both hands over her mouth and he grinned. “Safe” wasn’t really likely anywhere in the Steading.
He eased one of the doors open so they could slip through. A somewhat narrower, dark hallway led straight on. Malowan could hear at least two giants snoring—sleeping off too much bad wine, no doubt. Moments later, they came to a cross-point. He eased into the open and listened intently, then moved past a door left partly open. Fire burned sullenly halfway down a long, narrow chamber that he thought must be part of the outer walls—here the logs were as thick as he was tall. There was a door at the far end, and he thought he could sense the cave bear beyond it. Between them and that door, the room was a jumble of tables, chairs, and benches. All of them were littered with cups, dirty plates, and platters. Broached kegs were everywhere. The room reeked of sour wood-fire smoke, unwashed bodies, wet leather, ale, and vomit. Badly preserved trophy heads lined the wall above the fireplace—he could only hope Agya hadn’t seen that one of the heads was human. He touched her hand to get her attention and led the way back into the hall, crossing to check out the door on the opposite wall.
These were heavily barred. Malowan mouthed a reveal spell, then led Agya to the left. The hallway bent west here, another pair of doors at the end. He eased them open, revealing another fireplace—the fire here nearly burned out—and an almost normal-sized chamber that looked surprisingly neat and almost businesslike. The table was long and narrow. A chief’s chair sat empty at one end, smaller chairs flanking it. Shelves near the fireplace held odd items, and opposite the hearth, a huge hide was stretched on the wall. Malowan gazed at this, then nodded in satisfaction. Map, he signed and moved to study it.
Agya tugged at his sleeve and held out both hands, making writing motions. He handed over the blank map hide and charcoal stick and left her to copy the map while he checked the rest of the chamber.
Hides and rugs covered the floor, and tapestries hid most of the walls. Along the west wall, there was a heavy, stiff skin covering a vast area. Oddly, the bottom edge was moving as if air currents from behind were at work. Very odd, since the chamber was rather stuffy. He shoved the hide to one side, sensitive fingers questing until he found a door. It wasn’t really very well hidden, except by the hide. Once inside the tiny hidden chamber, he cast a spell, and the rack of firewood along the far wall lit up like a candle to his eyes.
Agya came up behind him. Malowan, aware by his last spell that no one was nearby, tugged at her boy-cut hair and murmured, “We are safe enough for now. The wood conceals something of value. Help me shift it.”
Agya merely nodded and knelt to begin shifting balks of firewood. The pile was nearly gone when Malowan’s fingers closed around several tubes.
“Scroll cases,” he whispered.
She nodded, inclining her head again when he indicated she should guard both the doors while he checked the tubes for safety.
Eventually he chose two, shoved them into his pack, then carefully restacked the firewood. “These must be valuable,” he whispered. “Time for us to hide or get back outside before the next guard change.”
Malowan waved her back into the room to watch and listen while he resettled the huge hide. “Be very quiet. There are wolves, remember,” he reminded her.
She nodded, her face pale, and led the way.
But before they had gone two paces, heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, and a deep bass voice rumbled in counterpart to at least three yipping wolves. Mal waited, holding his breath. The sounds passed by, and a door slammed, cutting off all noise.
Malowan gave a white-faced Agya thumbs up and went on. She drew a dagger and followed.
They retraced their steps and only once had to hide—Malowan under a pile of sacks, boots, and other rubble on the floor of the cloakroom, while Agya buried herself under a fur cloak that almost reached the floor. Two giants came rumbling and cursing down from the tower, one clutching his head while another grumbled, seemingly cross at having his sleep interrupted for guard duty in full fog.
Malowan waited an extra three tens of breaths after they had left, then rolled from under the sacks and drew Agya toward the doors. He eased one open as quietly as possible and pulled her outside.
Somewhere high above the Steading, day had broken. Down here, the fog was merely a brighter shade of gray but no less thick. The sides of the road were barely visible as an occasional tuft of dead grass.
Agya retrieved her tools. Malowan gestured a reminder for utter silence. She nodded, wide-eyed, and there was only the faintest snip as the lock slid into place.
They set out as quickly as they could walk. In this much haze, they’d be invisible to anyone approaching, and they’d hear anyone long before they saw them.
A short distance down the road, Malowan drew the girl onto the scrubby turf and back the way they’d come. To his surprise, Nemis was still waiting in the tiny dell.
The mage smiled very briefly then led back to the cave.
The rest of the party was awake and finishing a plain breakfast of corn gruel when the three returned. Nemis sought the packet of dry herb he sprinkled on everything he ate before filling his shallow bowl. Malowan settled down next to Vlandar and sent his ward to get breakfast for both of them while he helped fill in parts of the map.
Lhors was eager to hear what they had discovered, so he sat himself a few paces away, trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible while he kept his ears open.
“I would suggest we start an hour earlier tomorrow,” Malowan said. “There is a guard change at about first hour, and the servants had already begun work in the kitchens. Still, we discovered a fair amount about the place.”
The paladin had just begun to sketch on the map when Agya returned with his breakfast. He drank down the rather gluey mixture from its two-handled bowl while it was still hot.
Agya only sipped at hers and fell asleep before it was half gone. Malowan caught the wooden bowl as it slipped from her fingers and eased her down next to him, tucking the woolen cloak around her. He smiled down at her and then turned back to the map.
Vlandar and the paladin spent the next several minutes going over various details and debating tomorrow’s plans. Lhors tried to pay attention, but Mal’s details of twists and turns and doors and this and that soon began to jumble together in his head. He was beginning to doze off himself when something piqued his interest.
“…but this chamber,” Malowan was saying, “is where I saw the map.”
Vlandar drew a blank hide from his pile of mapskins and handed it over. Malowan closed his eyes briefly then began to sketch in such details as he recalled.
“It may be a council chamber, and I think the map showed sites they plan to raid. I do not read their script, unfortunately.” He closed his eyes again and scribbled several more lines of runic script at the bottom of the hide. “There. That is everything I remember—for now, at least. With a little sleep, I might recall more.”
“Go sleep, then,” Vlandar said. “Well done, my friend.”
Malowan shook his head. “There is more, though. Wait.” He patted his pack. “We also found several scroll cases deeply hidden among the balks of wood.”
“Scroll cases?” Vlandar said. “Have you looked at them yet?”
“I did not take the time in there, but if they are messages in Giantish, it would have done me little good. I can speak some Giantish, but I read none of it. I believe Nemis does, though.”
“He said so, back when he an
d I first spoke.” Vlandar thought a moment. “Let’s look at them now, you and I. If we need Nemis to translate for us, that can wait until after you’ve slept a while.”
Lhors stood and gazed over Vlandar’s shoulder. The two men either didn’t care or didn’t notice that he was so blatantly eavesdropping.
The scrolls were written in well-formed, large letters, but neither man could understand a word of what was written there, not even the glyphs at the bottom that must be the mark of the sender. “Or Nosnra’s glyph, of course,” Malowan said gloomily.
“They could be anything,” Vlandar agreed as he furled the last scroll and slid it into its tube. “Keep them, Mal. We’ll get Nemis’ help after you both wake up. Meantime, I’ll finish out the individual maps as best I can. Likely, I’ll take your advice and we’ll enter the fort an hour earlier tomorrow. I want to avoid a melee, especially if there’s a chance to get back into that chamber and learn something about why Nosnra and his underlings are attacking Keoland.”
“We won’t learn that by launching an open attack,” the paladin agreed. “I trust if you plan on stealth that you have put the fear of the gods into young Plowys?”
“As best I could, Mal. Still, I may need your aid in restraining our young hero.”
“There is,” the paladin said severely, “not enough sleep in all the world to prepare me for that.” He tugged his cloak around himself snugly and worked off his boots, settling down where he was.
* * *
Malowan woke some hours later to find Agya awake and replaiting one of the straps on his pack.
“They’re at it.” She grumbled and indicated the group around Vlandar with a minute jerk of her head. “Your warrior friend’s picked ’is teams, and no one wants to be with anyone else.” She drew a dagger and cut a slit on the side of the pack, threaded the braided strap through, and began working the ends in so it would hold. “Thought it were bad enough in th’ city when our master chose which ’prentice thieves to send out with which journey-lads. No one ever wanted who they got, journey or ’prentice.”
Against the Giants Page 8