Against the Giants

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  The chamber beyond was cool but not unbearably so after the drafty great cave. This room might have been a private audience hall for the Jarl’s important guests. Tables and chairs dotted the area, and on one Lhors could see scrolls. A few weapons hung from the wall. Pelts covered the floor and the icy stone walls. Another passage went north into darkness, and the east end of this long, skinny room was blocked by hides from ceiling to floor.

  Vlandar set Maera to watch north and west, Rowan to keep an eye on the east curtains, then let Malowan perform a reveal danger spell on the chamber itself while Nemis did something similar over near the east wall. Everyone else waited close to the doorway they’d just come through until the two magicians nodded and gestured that the chamber was free of traps.

  Vlandar divided the party and set them to various tasks, leaving the rangers where they were and getting Khlened, Bleryn, and Gerikh to search the chamber for anything useful.

  Agya and Lhors were left with Florimund.

  The thief’s nose wrinkled, and she touched Lhors’ hand. Animal smell. She pointed toward the leather-draped east wall. The youth shrugged, but when Rowan glanced his way, he caught her attention and signed. Rowan nodded, slacked her bowstring long enough to sign, Yes. Beasts in there, then turned back to keep watch.

  Lhors glanced at his companions. Agya swallowed hard as she interpreted the rangers sign, then turned as Florimund began to sway, his eyes half closed. Thief and villager caught the half-elf before he could fall over. The pile of ivory tusks he would have landed on would have made a hellish clatter. Lhors and Agya eased the fellow down, exchanging exasperated looks over him. Nemis, who must have been watching the half-elf, padded quickly across the chamber and clamped a hand over Florimund’s mouth as he and hauled the half-elf up and off his feet. Florimund struggled feebly, but Nemis was already at Maera’s side, where he set the fellow down with some remark to the ranger that Lhors couldn’t hear. She scowled at the mage but patted her kinsman’s hand and let him crouch next to her.

  Everyone froze as a deep giant voice asked a question from the next room. A resonant female voice replied, and something that sounded like a large dog whined eagerly. Vlandar gestured for Nemis to join Rowan, then drew the others just into the hallway leading up to the gentry’s quarters. “There is nothing for us in here. There is at least one chamber behind those hides where Rowan keeps watch, and beyond it, two giants and two wolves.”

  Jebis made the safe to talk sign, even though Vlandar had been speaking, if very quietly.

  Malowan held up a hand for yes and nodded. “Beg pardon, sir, but that voice we just heard? That was their leader, I’m sure of it.”

  “I believe you may be right,” Malowan said. “By the location, if nothing else, and I sense power in there. If so, the other may be his lady, and the wolves both pets and guards. Back north is a vast cavern, with many giants. Families, I think. If the Jarl is here, they may be his nobles.”

  “It seems likely,” Vlandar said. “We’ve a pocket of silence here, thanks to Nemis’ spell. I’d like one of his sleep spells to deal with what’s in there. I don’t want to start a fight here. Those nobles or whatever they are would not hear, thanks to Nemis, but others might be drawn from passages or guard points eastward.” Vlandar considered this briefly. He then waved to catch Nemis’ eye and broadly pantomimed sleep.

  The mage smiled grimly, nodded, and turned away. A few moments later, he turned back to nod once more.

  * * *

  Vlandar led them back into the main room. Nemis, who had been walking with Rowan, approached the warrior. The ranger looked very unhappy about something, Lhors thought.

  As Rowan marched over to begin speaking in urgent tones with the paladin, Nemis stepped close to Vlandar and said, “Listen, please. We dare not leave the Jarl and his lady alive.”

  Vlandar gave him a puzzled look.

  “They sleep now. Execute them while they sleep—call it justice for the deaths they’ve caused. They will feel no pain. Leave those two alive, and they’ll spill more innocent blood.”

  Vlandar nodded sharply. “I agree. Still, to kill anyone asleep like that…”

  “You need have no part,” Nemis urged. “Mal certainly must not be part of it or even know what we do until it’s done. Rowan will distract him once we’re in there, but—”

  “Too late,” Malowan said. He’d come up unnoticed. Behind him, Rowan cast Nemis a tired glance and shrugged. “Nemis, you cannot do this, not while I am here, and I will not leave.”

  “I’ll send you to sleep then!” The mage hissed in annoyance.

  The paladin shook his head. “No. If we were attacked, you would need me.” Malowan looked at Vlandar. “Tell me you have not countenanced this.”

  “Not here and now,” Vlandar broke in grimly. “Get inside that chamber, and we’ll talk.”

  Malowan set his jaw, beckoned his ward close, and went.

  “Sorry,” Rowan muttered as she passed Nemis. “I did all I could, but he became suspicious.”

  “A plague on the pure-hearted,” Nemis growled and followed her up the two steps and around the leather drape. Vlandar waited until everyone else was out of sight, then gestured for Lhors to go ahead of him.

  It was nearly warm inside the Jarl’s private chamber—and that was what it must be, Lhors decided. The furnishings were too fine for any but the ruler and his lady. He glanced around. The chamber was large but so cluttered that Lhors wondered if frost giant nobles even knew the concept of cleaning maids.

  Vlandar got everyone close together again to get everyone searching the chamber, but Malowan, his face pale and his mouth set, interrupted. “We are blocked from behind by Nemis’ spell of silence, and there is nothing and no one to the east. I tested. Vlandar, you cannot let him do this.”

  “I can,” the warrior replied steadily, “and if it seems the best course to me, I will. Mal, be sensible. Take Agya and go out of sight. What bloodshed these two have caused—”

  “That is between them and the gods,” Malowan said flatly. “They are living beings, and unlikely as it seems to any of us, they may one day become good.”

  Khlened snorted in disbelief.

  Malowan fixed him with a flat look, and the barbarian subsided. “Even if they do not, their fellow mortals are not given the right to judge. I will not risk the path I have taken for so many years, simply because this mage—”

  “This mage, is it?” Nemis said stiffly. “Your Heironeous won’t take your powers from you because of my choices, my friend, and you and I both know it.”

  “I will not let you do this,” Malowan gritted.

  “You cannot stop me,” Nemis replied.

  “Mal, listen at ’im,” Agya urged in the uncomfortable silence that followed. “C’mon, you an me, we’ll just go that way, y’won’t see a thing.”

  She shrank back as Malowan transferred the glare to her. He must be upset or very angry, Lhors thought. As far as he could tell, the mage didn’t even notice his ward’s reaction, though normally he was careful not to upset her.

  “I have not decided yet,” Vlandar began.

  Malowan shook his head, silencing the warrior. “Yes, you have. Don’t think me a fool because of my calling, Vlandar.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Then don’t pretend you haven’t seen them dead in your mind and felt good because of it!” the paladin snapped.

  “I have seen them dead, and I’d be glad for it,” Vlandar said evenly. “My friend, we’re wasting time we do not have. Search the chamber for the things you know we need, and I’ll study the problem while you do.”

  “Oh?” Malowan swung around to face him. “And what of their time?”

  “Give it up, Mal,” Vlandar demanded harshly. “Take Agya and go past that drape to the east. I’ll see to it they don’t suffer.”

  “And if I won’t go?”

  Vlandar’s jaw clenched. Even Lhors could tell that the warrior was swiftly becoming angry himself. “You will g
o, even if I have to get Khlened and Bleryn to drag you. I’d rather not, but Mal, I will if you leave me no other choice. I ask this out of our friendship, but remember that you swore to follow my orders along with everyone else.”

  Silence. Lhors noticed the four kitchen prisoners had moved back away from the verbal sparring. He couldn’t blame them. It made him uncomfortable to hear Malowan, Nemis, and Vlandar arguing.

  Lhors jumped as someone touched his arm. It was Nemis, who was very red in the face, particularly for one normally so pale.

  “What say you, lad?” the mage asked quietly. He used his eyes to gesture behind him at the sleeping giants.

  The two had been at table drinking wine. On the far side of the great slab of wood, a massive, silver-haired giantess slept awkwardly in a chair, her face pressed into the table, arms dangling. Lhors could just make out the two wolves sprawled by her feet. Nearer to him, the Jarl lay in a heap on thick fur rugs. The giant was snoring faintly.

  “What do you mean?” the youth whispered.

  Nemis smiled grimly. “I know these two by repute. They have personally killed hundreds of humans and elves. By their orders, many hundreds more have died—just as your family and all those in your village died, or as Jebis and the hunters would have.”

  Lhors stared at the sleeping giants, vaguely aware of Vlandar and Malowan still arguing behind him.

  “Imagine being held in a cage,” the mage whispered, “with giants all about to tease you that very soon you would be cut into pieces and eaten, or bound alive over a spit….” He hesitated as Lhors cringed away from him, eyes tightly closed and a hand over his mouth.

  Do not think about the babes and that soup pot! At the moment, it was all he could see. Then in a flash the image of his father eclipsed everything—his father pinned to the ground, writhing with a spear the size of a young tree trunk through his gut.

  Nemis touched his shoulder and gasped, then laid both hands on the youths face, pulling him around. “I am sorry, lad. I didn’t know, though I should have suspected. I did not mean to cause you such pain.”

  Lhors nodded, eyes still tightly closed. He couldn’t speak.

  Nemis let go of him. “But if these two, the Jarl and his lady, were part of the command that set Nosnra’s giants against your village, if you could avenge your father and your village now would you?”

  Lhors drew a deep breath and opened his eyes. To his astonishment, the mage held out a long dagger.

  “There is no burden on you to do this. Any of the four men held prisoner in that kitchen yonder might be willing, but they faced only loss of life, however dreadful it might have been. You lost your family, your village, and your father—everything you knew. It is your choice. If you strike, you grant them a cleaner death than your father had. While another may become Jarl here, at least this one will order no more deaths.”

  Lhors gazed longingly at the hilt. Father, I swore I would avenge you, and here within my reach…

  But he wouldn’t even reach for the blade. “I know you are right, Nemis—about them and all giants. But no, not like this. My father—it cannot change that he is dead, and it would not avenge anything. Not for me.”

  Nemis eyed him gravely then shoved the dagger back into its sheath. “As you choose,” was all he said as he turned away.

  Lhors drew a deep, shuddering breath, blotted his eyes on his sleeve, and realized Vlandar and Malowan were still arguing fiercely. The whole exchange with Nemis had taken next to no time at all.

  Khlened had come up unnoticed. “Done right, boy,” he muttered and patted the youths shoulder awkwardly. “I’m no headsman either. There’s no glory in butcherin’ a sleepin’ foe.”

  Bleryn snorted. “Listen at ’em, arguing whether such killers deserve to live. Small wonder dwarves don’t go for being paladins. We got more sense’n that. This is execution flat out, not murder. Such brutes don’t deserve an honorable death.”

  Behind them, Malowan’s voice rose. Nemis swore angrily and began muttering a spell. Khlened ran over to help Vlandar wrestle the paladin down. It took Gerikh’s help to get it done, and as Nemis stepped back, the paladin’s angry, weeping voice was abruptly silenced, though the man clearly was still bellowing at Vlandar and the others to let him go.

  Vlandar, who had Mal’s feet, leaned away from the man and met Bleryn’s eyes. “We can’t hold him long! One of you, get it done and that’s an order!”

  Bleryn nodded and turned away, shielding his blade before beckoning Jebis over. “I was prisoner in the Steading’s smithy, and I owe giants, but no one offered t’ make me into food. So you’ve a right, too.”

  Jebis declined, but one of the hunters came to his side with a dagger clenched in his hand.

  “We owe ’em,” the man said. He glanced at his dazed companion. “Poor Gorbis there, he may never be the same. Kill one, dwarf. I’ll see to the other.”

  “Good,” the dwarf replied. “Y’know how to give a stag a clean, quick death. Do as much here.”

  Nemis came over to stand next to Lhors.

  “Stay there, lad,” he said. “Close your eyes if you choose, but help me keep Mal from seeing anything.”

  He hadn’t meant to watch, but Lhors found himself unable to look away. The dwarf’s eyes were locked on the hunter’s. “We’ll kill the wolves first.”

  The hunter nodded. “Make it as bloodless as you can. Feller’d freeze around here in blood-soaked clothes.”

  The two dispatched the wolves by bringing a heavy blade down across the neck of each, severing the spine. The hunter then picked up a short spear leaning against the table, brought it over his head in a two-handed grip, and plunged it down through the giantess’ eye. She jerked once, then the breath went out of her in a faint sigh. Bleryn gave the Jarl the same, looked down at him for a long moment, and then backed away, taking the hunter with him.

  Lhors swallowed and turned away. So easy to kill… He was suddenly sick of death, the threat of death, and all the horrid forms death could take.

  Behind him, Vlandar had let Malowan up and seemed to be trying to say something to the paladin. Malowan ignored him and brushed past Lhors to gaze down at the dead giants and their pets, then bowed his head in prayer. Tears etched paths down the man’s face, and he looked sickened.

  How can he be so… so… ? Lhors couldn’t think of a word to describe a man who could forgive even giants. Lhors could not have done the deed himself, and he wasn’t sure he entirely agreed with Vlandar’s order, but he certainly felt no remorse for the two giants. He backed away and went over to join Vlandar, who looked very unhappy indeed as he gazed after Malowan. As the youth came up to him, Vlandar shook himself and turned to get his people working.

  Nemis was checking the contents of the cavern for traps, using a charm of some sort. As he finished each pile or chest, he nodded, and Vlandar put one of them to work, searching.

  Khlened found gems in one box and set them aside so he could finish searching to the bottom. Agya brought out two bags of coin and set them with Khlened’s jewels. Vlandar scooped them up and shoved them to the bottom of his pack, then went to work on another coffer.

  “That one’s safe,” Nemis said, pointing to a round-topped chest, “but leave the other. It’s a trap and deadly at that.” He got to his feet and went around the curtain where Rowan and Maera had taken Florimund.

  The mage was back at once. “Bedchamber there. There’s a spell buried in a trunk in there.”

  “I’ll come,” Vlandar said. “Send Rowan back for Mal, will you?”

  “I’m here,” the paladin said as he came over to help out.

  Lhors wondered what he would say to Nemis, but the man simply passed the mage, a worried Agya on his heels.

  “Khlened,” Vlandar said as he watched the paladin worriedly, “you, Bleryn, and Gerikh stay here to finish up. If you don’t recall if Nemis said a thing was safe, leave it. Jebis, you and your companions come with us.”

  Lhors followed on Vlandar’s heels.
/>
  Nemis was already kneeling before a massive trunk, his hands on the lock. With a faint puff of bluish smoke, the lock snapped, and he forced the lid back.

  Lhors peered over the mage’s shoulder, but he could see only furs and other clothing. Nemis didn’t seem interested in the contents. The mage fiddled with the lid and suddenly a piece of wood slid aside, revealing a hidden cache. The mage chuckled softly and drew out several scroll cases. He shoved two of them back inside at once, then ran his charm over the others. “Check that one, Vlandar. These are spell scrolls.”

  “It’s a map,” Vlandar said as he unfurled the scroll. Lhors helped him hold it open. “But not much use unless we travel overland to the place. And it may have no bearing on our journey. Nemis, you read Giantish. Tell me what it says here.”

  Nemis gazed at the map for some moments, then licked his lips. “This,” he said, “is Muspelheim, home to the fire giants. You are right. It would be a dreadful journey on foot.”

  “Yes,” Vlandar said, “but is it our goal? Can you tell that?”

  “There is nothing here to tell me that,” the mage said tersely, “and if I were you, Vlandar, I would pray to my gods that it isn’t. This is no place for us.”

  “How’d y’know that?” Agya asked.

  The mage eyed her gravely as he rerolled the map and shoved it into its tube. “Because I have been there.”

  Agya’s eyes narrowed. Maybe she suspected the mage would lead them into a trap.

  Vlandar nodded and took the map. “Then if it is our way, you can guide us.” He turned. “Mal, is there anything else useful here?”

  The paladin shook his head, still refusing to speak.

  “A moment, Vlandar,” the mage broke in. “I thought our goal was to be gone from here and report back to your king. Seeking out this dread place would only take us farther from that.”