Against the Giants

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  And you’ve helped. You’ve killed giants. Father’d be proud, had he lived to see that. Lhors Giant Killer Agya had called him. He smiled to himself. True, others had helped in the killing, but twice now, Lhors had dealt the killing blow—once in pure rage and once in sheer panic, but both creatures were equally dead.

  Seems ya might not be so useless after all. The words echoed in his head.

  Lhors settled his shoulders next to Vlandar’s. He was still afraid, but that was sensible in a place like this. Fear would help to keep him alive. He’d manage.

  Some moments later, Vlandar stirred. “Everyone caught their breath? Legs rested? Weapons checked?” There were a few quiet murmurs of assent. “Good. Nemis, how much farther and what can we expect when we get there besides a brutal fight?”

  Nemis slid over next to Vlandar. “Not much farther—as long as we can go straight up this hall and then east. Once we’re there, things will get interesting. Complicated. There is one main entry blocked by a dreadful trap—a tentacle wall. It looks like an ordinary part of the wall until you get close, then the tentacles grab you. I have some spells to use against it, but I doubt they will entirely neutralize it. And if only the tentacles are destroyed, there are other things on the wall—beaks to bite you.”

  “What about my arrows from the Steading trove?” Rowan asked.

  “They might harm it, but if you touch the wall, it warns those inside. An arrow—or any weapon for that matter—might have the same effect. The only other way in is through a secret door inside the cells. I suggest we not go that way.”

  “Why fight ’em at all?” Agya demanded softly. “Why don’t you and Mal go close by, make a spell t’learn who’s in there, then get away, or put sleep on ’em and search in there?”

  “I think it unlikely a sleep spell would work on every drow in there. I am certain it will not work on Eclavdra. But we must get in. If only servants or clerics are there, we can kill or disable them and then search for further proof against Eclavdra—other allies she has, perhaps even more maps. If she returns here to find her sanctuary violated, it won’t stop her, but it may make her wary for a while. If she is here…” He drew a deep breath and expelled it in a rush. “Then we must kill her.”

  “If we can.” Vlandar nodded. “We must go before someone finds our handiwork above.”

  “Remember,” Nemis told them as he got to his feet, “the drow do not expect open attack here. The rooms are guest chambers and placed in the very midst of this palace. King Snurre’s guards patrol frequently, but the drow take normal precautions only. Also,” he added with an almost cheerful grin, “it is daylight out there. Drow live deep in the ground, but even so, many of them choose to sleep when the sun lights the lands above them and wake when the sky is black. If there is a chance for us to surprise them, this is the hour.”

  “Besides,” Malowan put in, “the scroll is in there, and we need it. I don’t relish the idea of walking all the way back to Keoland.”

  Vlandar nodded with a smile, then eased over to peer into the hall. He drew back suddenly.

  “Guards,” he rasped, “three of ’em at the far end of the hall. They’re standing there talking. Sure your spell’s holding, Nemis? Mal?”

  Both men nodded.

  “We won’t go yet, then. Nemis, tell us what to expect inside.”

  Lhors doubted the warrior had forgotten anything. He was keeping them all from worrying about things or getting restless—and making sure everyone else remembered.

  Nemis shrugged.

  “If nothing has changed since I was here years ago, it’s about twice the size of the cave we were in last night. It is divided into two rooms by a curtain. The far chamber is her bedchamber. It is all dimly lit. One or two clerics have the outer chamber, and that’s where we will come in. They’ll be competent magicians, but Mal or I will do what we can to neutralize them so that you fighters can take them on. If any of the drow has a thing like a lash with several snaky ends, don’t let it touch you. It will sap your strength. Eclavdra—if she’s here—Mal and I will take her. Agya, Lhors, Gerikh, and Florimund, you can serve us best by staying out of the way and guarding our backs. Rowan, Maera, whatever arrows and spears you have left from the Steading trove, save them for her.” He thought a moment. “Ah, I nearly forgot. She and any of her drow who come here use a spell scroll. There is another such scroll here to take them back. If any drow tries to get to it, do all you can to stop him.”

  “Why?” Agya asked warily.

  “So we don’t all get transported underground,” Nemis said evenly. “And the king’s wizards may be able to use it. Vlandar, are your guards still up there?”

  “Still there,” the warrior reported, “but wait. One’s gone on north. The other two are heading this way.”

  He eased back against the wall, and the party fell silent. Some moments later, two trolls strode past and went down the hall and around the bend. Rowan edged around Vlandar and pressed against the south wall of their hiding place, listening intently.

  She finally nodded. “Truly gone.”

  “Good. Let us go then,” the mage said and stepped into the open.

  Lhors sighed faintly as he moved back into the hall. Look upon me, Father. Help me be brave.

  * * *

  Nemis drew them to a halt just short of a smithy. The din here was strong and echoed into the hallway. Dark ruddy light from several fires lay across the stones. The mage nodded and led them up the hall.

  Another few paces brought them to another broad hallway, this one heading east. It was gloomy that way despite a few torches stuck into the wall. Most of those burned fitfully, and all but one was at the far end of the passage. To the north, Lhors thought he could hear voices, echoing eerily as if the speakers stood in a huge chamber.

  Nemis gestured for them to follow him and moved swiftly into the east passage. Some paces on, he stopped and drew everyone close against the north wall. Lhors was aware of a wide passage that dropped down just past where they stood and a vast, drafty space that way. Nemis pointed the other direction at a rough section of the wall across the passage from them.

  The mage gestured for complete silence, then stepped back to let Malowan take his place. The paladin gazed at the wall for some moments. Then, with a glance at his companions, he pressed his palms together. His lips moved for some moments. He eyed Nemis, nodded, and walked steadily across the hall.

  To Lhors’ astonishment, the paladins hands seemed to go into the wall as if it were water. Malowan withdrew one hand and beckoned for the others to join him. Khlened and Bleryn exchanged wary looks but moved out, the rangers right behind them. All four had weapons at the ready as they went into the wall and out of sight. Florimund stayed quietly where he was until Agya took hold of his arm and drew him across the passage. The half-elf willingly went with her.

  He’s given up, Lhors thought. He went next, followed by Gerikh and Vlandar. Nemis brought up the rear. The wall felt flaccid against his skin and seemed to cling to him, but he was through it and next to Agya in an instant.

  The chamber was hung with purple and black drapes and was thickly carpeted. A black candle burned in a deep holder on a table partway across the room, another deep in a wall-niche.

  Khlened and Bleryn were already partway across the room, advancing on a couch near the west wall and the black-skinned fellow who blinked at them sleepily.

  He’s so small! Lhors thought.

  Lhors’ eyes shifted briefly as Vlandar stepped away from him and threw one of his daggers. A second drow had come from behind one of the drapes, his lips moving in a spell. The dark elf ducked the dagger, and Vlandar reached for another. Rowan’s arrow sang past Lhors’ ear and caught the drow between shoulder and throat. The fellow’s eyes went wide with pain but his lips were still moving. Maera ran him through with her spear.

  “Well done! Get back now!” That was Nemis.

  Maera freed her spear, but Rowan only had time to grab one of her arrows before the
mage pulled her back.

  On the other side of the chamber, Lhors could see Khlened towering over his adversary. The barbarian grinned fiercely and brought up his sword, but the drow rolled from the couch and under it, emerging on the other side as the barbarian brought the weapon down in a slashing blow that cut deeply into finely carved wood. Before he could free it, the drow snatched up a long rod from the floor and lashed out. Writhing tentacles smacked into Khlened’s arm. The barbarian sagged against the wall, gasping for air. Even with two hands, he couldn’t seem to lift his sword.

  The drow chuckled and raised the weapon for another blow.

  Bleryn jumped back just in time, then brought his javelin down savagely across the clerics slender wrist.

  Lhors winced as he heard the unmistakable crack of bone. Bleryn shoved the fallen weapon aside with the tip of his spear and took a step forward. The drow reeled back a pace, his lips moving. Bleryn froze, weapon upraised. Khlened wasn’t moving either.

  “Spell,” Nemis hissed. “Mal, watch the drape!”

  The mage took a pace into the open, catching the drow’s attention. The fellow cradled his broken arm against his breast, but his lips continued to move. Nemis murmured something, then held up his hands as the cleric bared his teeth. The drow stayed that way, as if suddenly turned to stone.

  “Sent the magic back at him,” the mage explained. “Leave them, Vlandar,” he added softly as the warrior started toward Khlened. “There is nothing you can do now except fight to protect them until we are done.”

  The mage moved across the room, stopping several paces from the brightly colored drape that covered most of the east wall.

  Lhors tightened his grip on the daggers he’d drawn and swallowed past a dry throat. Why hadn’t this Eclavdra attacked them yet? Were they alone? He suddenly realized he’d been holding his breath since he’d first seen movement on that couch. The entire attack against the two drow had taken no time at all.

  Nemis, Malowan, and Vlandar stood in the middle of the room facing the drape. Rowan had taken up a position near the corner and knelt to fit an arrow to the string. Maera was so near Lhors, the youth could have taken a step and touched her.

  She looked at him, thought for a moment, then finally spoke. “Keep Florimund safe for me.”

  He didn’t quite know what to say.

  “We’ll keep ’im,” said Agya from behind Lhors.

  Nemis moved to the very center of the room, gesturing for his two companions to move away from him, then he took a deep breath.

  “I know you are there, Eclavdra,” he said, making no attempt at silence. “Come forth or we will set fire to the chamber.”

  Silence answered them.

  “We control the palace of the fire giants, Priestess. This is no longer a haven for you.”

  “You do not.”

  Lhors started as a resonant, low female voice wafted through the room. He hadn’t seen any movement of the drape, but she was suddenly there.

  The clerics had seemed small to the youth, but Eclavdra—if this was truly she—was smaller than Agya. Unlike the little thief, the drow was almost fragile-looking. She wore a flowing black robe barely touched with silver. Sheer fabric slid smoothly over high breasts and a flat belly. Long silver hair rippled from beneath a cap the color of her skin. Tendrils of her hair slipped across her wrists and shoulders as she shook her locks back from sharp ears.

  Lhors caught his breath.

  Faint as the sound was, the delicately boned face turned his way and large, dark eyes met his very briefly. Her lips turned in amusement.

  The youth could feel himself blushing, but Eclavdra’s attention was again fixed on Nemis.

  “You do not control the palace,” she said again. “I would know.” She laughed throatily. “But it is good to see you again, Nemis. I expected you to return to me, but scarcely like this.” She gestured. “A handful of would-be heroes to… what? Take your vengeance against one who cared for you? I did, you know. Why else did I put up with your sulks and your angers, your loathing for your uncle, and your kind touch on my—”

  “Save that,” Nemis said flatly. “This is justice, not vengeance—”

  Whatever else he would have said went unheard. Eclavdra’s peals of laughter stopped him.

  “I see. You will take vengeance against me for the sake of grubby peasants and ignorant herders, is that it?”

  Agya gripped Lhors’ arm when the enraged youth surged forward.

  “Stay put!” the little thief hissed. “Can’t y’tell? She wants us angered! She wants t’get Mal and Nemis so mad as they can’t think proper, then she c’n kill us all.” She kept hold of him until he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was right, of course.

  Lhors had missed something in listening to Agya. The sorceress had apparently said something to upset Malowan. His mouth was grim as he took a step toward her. “What can you hope to get from this? All the fields and cities of Oerth? They are no use to you!”

  “No? We could live again on the surface, if we chose—if it were ours. In the meantime, it will be a source of wealth, worked for us by slaves with giants to oversee the harvests, collect the cattle and sheep, even dwarves to mine for us. Of course,” she added with a tight-eyed smile in Rowan’s direction, “we will do away with aberrations such as that at once.”

  The ranger merely raised her chin and sighted down her arrow.

  “Do not bother with that toy,” Eclavdra added with a nasty laugh. “I can turn it against you—or better, turn it against your sister.”

  The drow’s hands moved sharply.

  “Mal!” Nemis shouted a warning as, with a faint cry of protest and pain, Rowan turned away from the drow and aimed it at her sister. She struggled against the magic, but it was of no use. She let go the arrow, and it shot through the air straight into Maera’s throat. The ranger fell, one flawless end of the arrow protruding from under her chin, the bloodied point emerging from the back of her neck.

  Lhors dropped his daggers and ran to take the half-elf’s weight in his arms. She weighed less than he would have thought. He scooped her up as gently as he could and backed away. Agya was at his side, holding his daggers and ready to throw. Lhors eased Maera back close to the wall. He set her down gently on the floor, careful not to jar the arrow. The ranger was shuddering slightly but seemed to have passed out from the shock. Lhors could just hear a faint rasping. She was still breathing!

  “Don’t touch the arrow,” rasped Gerikh, who had come over to help. “She’ll bleed more, and it might kill her. As long as she’s breathing, the paladin can still save her.”

  Lhors couldn’t see Rowan, but he could hear her frantic weeping, then even that was lost under Eclavdra’s wild laughter. The rest of the party had been stunned into inaction at the attack upon their comrade. Even Vlandar and Malowan stood stunned, eyes wide. In that instant, the sorceress darted forward to touch Vlandar’s arm then threw herself back against the drape, Vlandar screamed and staggered, his arm bleeding from shoulder to elbow.

  “Get back!” Nemis bellowed.

  Lhors half-expected some taunt from Eclavdra, but the drow seemed too intent on her spells to bother. As her lips moved this time, Malowan threw himself to one side and began a spell of his own.

  The colorful drape behind the sorceress suddenly sprouted thorns. Eclavdra jumped, and when she stepped away from the wicked points, there was blood in her hair.

  Not enough to slow her, Lhors realized unhappily. He glanced back at Maera. Dreadful as the rangers wound was, it was scarcely bleeding, and she was still breathing in ragged, shallow breaths. Maybe the paladin could heal her, if any of them managed to get out alive….

  Lhors swallowed and turned away. Agya handed him his daggers and drew her own, shoving the dazed-looking Florimund behind her.

  A swarm of lights darted around Nemis’ head—some spell of hers, no doubt. But the lights didn’t seem to bother the mage. As Eclavdra began another spell, Nemis began one of his own. />
  Rowan, still sobbing, ran out to grab Vlandar from the melee and drag him back behind one of the couches. Her eyes were puffy and red, and tears ran two pale tracks down her dusty cheeks.

  Movement along the wall caught Lhors’ eye. Bleryn had Khlened upright and was trying to get him out of the open. Eclavdra shouted something and a searing flame tore across the room. The fire slammed into Bleryn, throwing him into the wall with a bone-shattering crunch, and the dwarf went up like a torch. He didn’t move as the flames consumed him.

  Khlened, who had fallen heavily when the dwarf let him go, dragged himself onto his hands and knees. He tried to escape the hellish heat, but he was too near to get away. The barbarian’s cloak began to smolder, his hair steamed, and then he too was enveloped in flames.

  Lhors clapped his hands over his ears to try to shut out the barbarians howls of agony, vaguely aware of Agya huddled tight against him. The agonized cries suddenly ceased, and the only sound from the far end of the chamber was the cruel crackle of flames.

  Malowan turned briefly to speak in that direction, his eyes dark with pain. Whatever he did, the fire stayed where it was, and even the smoke didn’t seem to get any thicker.

  “We end this now!” roared Nemis.

  The drow laughed wildly. “You end this? I think not.”

  She lashed out with a spell, and Malowan stumbled and clutched his eyes. Lhors tackled Agya before the girl could run to the paladin. A sidelong glance from Eclavdra told him the sorceress had wanted that.

  Ignoring Lhors and Agya for the moment, Eclavdra caught hold of a mace and took a cautious step toward the paladin.

  “Mal!” Nemis shouted. “Metal weapon!”

  “Can’t see!” Malowan said. He sounded furious.

  Eclavdra laughed again, and Malowan turned toward the sound, his hands moving. The handle of her mace suddenly turned a dull red and the drow’s laughter rose to a shriek of pain. She dropped the weapon, and it fell with a dull thump, the carpet beneath it beginning to smolder.