Raine gasped. “It’s Tiny. Oh, my gosh, it’s Tiny.”
“I believe your troubles are at an end, my good fellow,” Raven said. “This lady’s name is Raine.”
“Tro almighty,” the gatekeeper said. “I’d be ever so grateful if you could persuade him to move, milady. There’s a line of folks waiting to get into the city, and they’re nettled at the delay.”
“I shall do my best,” said Raine.
The gatekeeper turned and fell in beside them, and they rode on. They rounded the mountain, coming to an abrupt halt when they found the way blocked. The road into the city was choked with carts and wagons of varying sizes. Crates of cheese, fish, and other comestibles sat spoiling in the sun, and large flocks of complaining livestock milled about, adding to the noise and confusion.
The line at the gate stretched to the south; the crowd shifted and moved, grumbling like an angry animal. Merchants and common folk mingled with strange creatures in noisy communion. Raine stared at a unicorn in amazement. A griffin with an injured wing, a pack of surly trolls, and a hideous little man with green skin, a tonsure of weedy hair, and a beaked mouth were also among those waiting.
Raven drew up. “You did not exaggerate the situation. Take us to the giant, at once.”
“Gladly, m’ lord.”
They skirted the edge of the throng, passing a group of heavy wagons laden with barrels of goods. The oxen hitched to the wagons were huge. Raine noticed, with a ripple of astonishment, that the animals had more than the usual number of legs.
“They have eight legs,” she said, craning her neck at the huge animals as they rode past.
“Tannish oxen,” Raven said. “Incredibly strong.”
“But they—” Raine shook her head. “Never mind.”
They pushed on through the mob and came in view of the market gate.
“There he is,” the gatekeeper said. “There’s the giant what’s caused the fuss.”
Tiny sat in front of the city gate, his tree-trunk legs splayed in front of him. The frost giant was huge, more than twenty-five feet tall and built along mammoth lines. His complexion and long, uncombed hair were pale as milk, and his broad shoulders plugged the opening entirely. His arms were folded across his wide chest, and there was a mulish expression on his face.
“Call me what you likes,” he rumbled at the impatient crowd, “but Raine be on the way, and I ain’t moving.”
“You see?” The gatekeeper threw up his hands. “There’s no reasoning with him.”
Raine was already off the horse and running toward the gate. “Tiny Bartog,” she cried. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Raine?” The giant lumbered awkwardly to his feet. “I knowed you be coming. I jes knowed it. Bless me, this be a happy day.”
The giant buried his face in his hands and burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, Tiny.” Raine patted the giant on a hairy ankle. “Lift me up, so we can talk.”
“Aye, Rainey.” The giant blew his nose on a piece of cloth the size of a bedsheet. Tucking the hanky into a pocket of his hide kilt, he tossed her onto his shoulder.
“I’ve missed you, Tiny.” Wrapping her hands in his long, pale locks, Raine planted a kiss on the giant’s damp, ruddy cheek. He smelled faintly of ham and cheese, and clean snow. “I have so much to tell you.”
“I be missing you, too.” Tiny winced. “Belike, you’ve forgotten Tiny be a mite tender headed?”
Raine laughed and let go of his hair. “See that dark-haired man over there, the one standing by the golden horse? Take me to him.”
“Sure thing, Rainey. Happy to oblige.”
“Get some men out here to help the gatekeeper,” Raven was saying to a man in a gray and black cloak when Tiny and Raine clomped up. “There’s bound to be a crush when the gates open. I want the streets cleared by dusk.”
“By dusk, Roark? It’s a big crowd, and—”
“See to it. Rowan’s orders.”
“Yes, Roark. At once.”
The guard gave the giant a startled glance and hurried away.
“Roark?” Bending, Tiny set Raine on the ground. “You be the rowan’s son, the one what Gertie raised from a mablet?”
“The very same.”
“Hoo, if that don’t beat all. Fancy me, talking to a lord. Wait until I tells Mam.”
“You’ve caused quite a commotion, good giant.”
Tiny flushed. “I’d uh waited inside, Your Worship, but the city be cramped and full of squiggies. So, I reckoned it ʼud be best fer me to wait here.”
Raven’s brow furrowed. “Squiggies?”
“Non-giants,” Raine said. “Allow me to introduce you. Raven, this is my friend, Bartog Rimefeld.”
“Call me Tiny, Your Worship,” Tiny said quickly. “Everybody does. I were the runt o’ my family.”
“If you’re the runt, I’d hate to meet your brothers.”
Tiny chuckled. “Oh, I don’t be the runt no more. I growed, see? Walt and Edlo—they be my older brothers—used to call me Tiny when I were a wee groggin. Fer some reason t’other, the name stuck.”
“I see.” Raven gazed up at the towering creature. “May I call you Tiny, then?”
“You can call me whatever you likes, your lordship—jes don’t call me late to supper.” Tiny ducked his head. “Beggin’ yer pardon. That be sumpin me mam says. Giants being peckish, don’t you know.”
“So, I hear. What brings you to the Citadel, Tiny? Other than Raine, of course.”
“Shads, Your Worship. They done got me in a frazzle.” Lifting one huge, square foot, the giant showed them a thin place on the bottom of his shoe. “Wore a hole in m’ sandal squishing the pesky fellers.”
Raven’s expression sharpened. “Shads, in Finlara?”
“Oh, no—they be in Udom, Yer Royalness. I be right fashed with killin’ ‘em, so I decided to wait at the gate for Raine. Knowed they wouldn’t pester me so close to the city.”
“Very wise. Shads are not welcome, by and large, at the Citadel, but how did you know Raine would be here?”
The giant shrugged. “Tiny jes’ knows things sometimes, Your Worship.”
“It’s true,” Raine said. “He knew about the eaters.”
“Aye.” Tiny shuddered. “Nasty buggers, eaters. Filled their bellies with Shads, and then started in on the warrior. Gnawed the purdy clean off ʼim, but he got better.”
“Mauric told me the tale,” Raven said. “He says you saved his life.”
“Glad to do it.” Tiny looked around. “Speaking o’ which, where be the warrior? I’d uh thunk he’d be here. Like a mama rock bear wiv her cubs, when it comes to Raine, don’t you know.”
“We left him south of the city,” Raven said. “We’re going that way now, if you’d care to accompany us.”
“Aye, I’d like to see the warrior.”
“Then see him you shall, but, first, tell me more about these…er…squiggies. Why were Shads in Udom, do you think?”
“I’ve puzzled and puzzled on it, Your Worship. Can’t say fer sure, but I reckon them Shads found out, some way t’other, that Gertie and I be friends. Come after me, in hopes of catching her.” The giant’s huge brown eyes were wide and guileless. “Fer the reward money, see?”
“Or they were after Raine. It’s no secret the Dark Wizard wants her.” Raven rubbed his chin. “If you were seen in her company, the news would have traveled fast.”
“Them floaters,” Tiny groaned and sat down on a large stone cattle trough on the side of the road. “They saw me on the river. Oh, Kron, Rainey. I done led them nasty squiggies to you.”
“It’s all right, Tiny,” Raine said. “The rowan has granted me sanctuary.”
Tiny lifted his head. “He has?”
“Yes. Chaz, too. He and Gurnst—the helmsman of Raven’s ship
—are on their way to the city now with the cargo. We don’t expect them before dark.”
Tiny hiccupped and wiped his cheeks. “I’d be plum tickled to see the little ʼun, and no lie.”
“He’ll be glad to see you, too, Tiny, but you may not recognize him. Chaz has grown. A lot.”
“Shot up, sudden-like, has he?” Tiny said with a wise nod. “Mayhap, he be part giant. We grows like ʼat, don’t you know.”
“Tiny, you are brilliant,” Raine said. “I’ve racked my brain, trying to figure it out. I’d decided it was Flame’s influence—dragons being magical creatures, but what you say makes sense, too.”
Tiny got to his feet with remarkable swiftness for a creature so large. “Rainey Stewart, never say you gots a dragon?” He looked around eagerly. “Where do he be?”
“South of the city with Mauric,” Raven said. “The rowan doesn’t want us to bring him into the Citadel before dark.”
“The rowan be a wise one,” Tiny said. “Squiggies be terrible high-strung, even Finlars. Couple o’ them runties at the gate tried to poke ole Tiny with a sword, and gots a good thumping fer their trouble. No saying what they might do if’n they seed a dragon.” The giant gave them an expectant look. “Well? What you be waiting for? Let’s go.”
“We’ll take you to see Flame, but you must promise to go slowly and not get ahead,” Raine said. “Lúthon is swift, but he can’t do the giant hop.”
“Rainey, how many times I gots to tell you? Giants don’t hop.”
“Maybe not,” Raine said, “but you take two steps and you’ve gone a league. We won’t be able to keep up, and I want to be there when you meet Flame.”
“Tiny will walk, squiggie style. Tiny promises.”
Chapter 9
Into the City
Leaving the throng at the gate, Raven and Raine headed south once more with Tiny. The giant listened as Raine told him of her adventures since they’d parted, including the barge trip down the Shara and the subsequent journey on the Storm.
“A mud goggin, a sea beastie, and a golem?” Tiny exclaimed. “By Kron, that Glonoff be a bothersome gadfly.”
“A gadfly that wants me dead.”
“Aye, but you’ve the rowan’s shield, now, and that be sumpin. A warrior and a man o’ his word, the rowan. Not that I ever met him, mind you.” Tiny beamed at Raven. “You be m’ first lordling, Your Worship.”
“I am no lordling, good giant. I am hedge born.”
Tiny’s large brow wrinkled. “You be Gertie’s adopted cub, and that makes you better ʼn any lordling, in my book. Mam’s, too, I’ll wager. Thinks the world o’ Gertie, me mam. A rare trimming I’d get were I to be cheeky to you, so it’ll be ‘Your Worship,’ if’n it be all the same to you. Don’t wanna get crossways wiv me mam.”
“Your mother sounds formidable.”
“Aye. Mam don’t take no guff. Raised me and m’ brothers on her own.”
“Your father is dead?”
“Couldn’t say, Your Worship. He runned off when I be a knobling. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I says. He were a wild one, me da. Allus kickin’ up a dust.”
They found Mauric waiting for them on the scrubby heath where they’d left him, tending to his horse. Dropping the reins, he strolled to meet them. “Ho, cuz, where’d you find this mountain of lard?”
“Stow your wagger in your napper, young jab-o-jake.” Grinning, Tiny bent to offer Mauric a large finger to shake. “Me mam says I be big boned.”
“Your mam was being kind. It’s good to see you again, my friend.”
Tiny’s mouth trembled. “Good to see you, too, warrior.” Plucking the hanky from his kilt, he blew his nose. “That be a sad day, when you lot sailed down the river wivout old Tiny. Like to broke m’ heart. I feared I’d never see any o’ you again, and that be the truth.”
“Tro, I’d forgotten what a dew-drip you are,” Mauric said. “No need for waterworks, old fellow. We made it through.” He poked the giant in the calf. “You’ve grown thick since last I saw you. Did you rob a bakery?”
“I ain’t had but a bite, here and there,” Tiny protested, tucking his hanky away again. “Been too busy wiv them Shads.”
“Shads?” Mauric’s brows rose.
“I’ll tell you later.” Raven jumped lightly down from Lúthon. “We were delayed by a problem at the gate. A rather large problem.”
“Tiny was waiting for us,” Raine said, allowing Raven to help her dismount. “He knew I was coming. Isn’t he clever?”
“Prodigious smart,” agreed Mauric.
“Oh, pooh. You’re making fun.” Raine smoothed her wrinkled skirt and looked around. “Where’s Flame?”
“Chasing rabbits.”
“What? You were supposed to watch him.”
“He woke up. Don’t know if you realize it, Rainey, but your beastie is high strung. You try making him sit still for more than a space. It can’t be done.”
“Mauric Lindar, if something happens to Flame—”
“Calm down. I told him not to wander far.” A small fireball shot into the air from the direction of the sea. “There, you see?” Mauric said. “That’s the signal.”
He placed his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Within moments, a large shape appeared on the scrubby moor and trundled swiftly toward them.
Flame bounded up, took one look at the giant, and plopped down on his haunches, his forked tongue lolling from exertion.
This is the giant Morven told Flame about?
Yes. His name is Tiny Bart. I hope the two of you will be friends.
The dragon yawned. If Morven wishes.
“Look at ʼim. Ain’t he sumpin?” Tears filled the giant’s brown eyes.
Flame gave Raine a look of disgust. He leaks.
He’s excited to meet you. I think it’s sweet.
Bah, said Flame.
As the afternoon waned, a bank of thick, gray clouds rolled in, and it started to snow.
“Ah, spring in Finlara. Always a joy,” Mauric said as they mounted their horses and set out for the city at dusk. “We could have sailed for sunny Valdaria or Esmalla, but nooo. We had to come home.”
“Forgive me if matters of world import intrude upon your comfort,” Raven said, “but there was the small matter of the Eye, besides a meddle of wizards yammering in my ear. Take it up with those three, if you like.”
Mauric regarded him in astonishment. “Now, why in Tro’s name would I do a damn fool thing like that when I can grouse at you, instead? You can’t turn me into something unpleasant or curse me with boils.”
“Hmm. Almost, you tempt me to take up magic.”
The snow was coarse and grainy, and mixed with ice crystals. Raine drew up the hood of her cloak, and Raven shrugged his short mantle around his shoulders. They slogged along the mushy road, with Tiny and Flame at the rear.
“Allus wanted to see a dragon,” the giant confided to Flame in a friendly fashion. “Reckon you could gack up another one o’ them fireballs fer old Tiny?” There was a slight poof behind them. “Hoo, a beauty, but a wee bit close, don’t you know,” the giant said with a chortle of delight. “Set m’ eyebrows on fire, you did. Have another go, only aim yer kisser thataway…aye, that be more like it. Whoops, the grass be afire. No worries. Tiny will put it out.”
The giant veered off the road long enough to stomp out the blaze with his enormous feet, and they traveled on.
The sun dropped into the sea and the moons, Una and Petrarr, rose, dim and milky in the snowy sky. The city loomed ahead. As twilight deepened into night, lights flickered up and down the mountain, candles and lamps lit to hold back the darkness. Torches burned along the walls and towers, guttering in the bitter wind. Turning at the Bear Gate, they headed east, hugging the curving outer wall for warmth. They rounded Reba’s Tower and the wind attacked with renewe
d ferocity. Raine grabbed the hood of her cloak and lowered her head against the icy blast.
“Fine night, ain’t it?” Tiny said in his booming voice. “Reckon I’ll tramp about in the blow a bit. Sitting at the gate so long’s made m’ legs itch.”
“Don’t go too, far,” Raven said. “The rowan will wish to have a word with you about those Shads.”
“Gawn, what fer? I done tole you alls I know.”
“Be that as it may, I know the rowan, and he’ll have questions.”
“The rowan, gumming at me—who’d uh thunk it? When you reckon he’ll wanna have a gab?”
“In the morning, I expect.”
“Right-o.” Tiny took a jerky step. His huge form shimmered in the swirling snow, and he disappeared.
Mauric made a stifled sound of revulsion.
“What ails you?” Raven asked.
“Ever ridden a giant?”
“No.”
“Then you wouldn’t understand.”
They reached the gate and found it barred for the night. The guards had done their work. The crowd had dispersed, and all that remained of the earlier chaos were bits of scattered straw, churned mud, and animal droppings. Raven dismounted and pounded on the massive doors.
A shutter opened above them in one of the guard towers, and a man stuck his head out. Raine recognized the slouchy hat atop the man’s pate. It was the gatekeeper they’d met earlier in the day.
“We’re closed until sunup,” he snapped. “Enter through the Bear.”
“We enter here, and now.”
“Roark, is that you? I’d given up on you. Where’s that infernal giant?”
“Gone about his business, as should you.” Raven stepped out of the shadow of the vast doors and into the flickering torchlight. “Open the gate, sirrah. You keep the lady waiting in the cold.”
“At once, your lordship.”
The shutter slammed shut. A moment later, there was the sound of a heavy bar being lifted and the gates creaked open.
“My thanks for your help with the gi—” The gatekeeper saw Flame and stumbled back. “Tro’s beard, it’s a dragon.”
A Muddle of Magic Page 11