by J Battle
They were the leading edge of a migration of Giants; moving slowly and destructively from the ever more cold north, down to the warmer climes enjoyed in the south.
They were Northern Giants, and wherever they went, they would leave dismay and destruction in their wake, for such Giants will likely crush anything that has the misfortune to be in their way, and not think to step around it.
It’s not that they are especially nasty or bloodthirsty; it’s just that, being from the north where humans are rarely seen, they are inconsiderate of the needs of others. They can only perceive the world from the viewpoint of a Giant, which is quite high and distant from that of mortal man.
Southern Giants, with more experience of living close to frail humans, would at least take a glance to be sure they weren’t trampling some poor soul with their great feet.
‘I could eat a nordear and come back for more; I’ll tell ye that and not charge ye a penny,’ said Raarvan, as he passed his old friend.
‘Hold on there, boulder-head, I was first, and I mean to be first, so get ye behind me and hold your tongue, lest I have it for starters.’
Raarvan laughed and put on a burst of speed, though a fleeter onlooker might have struggled to see the difference.
They came to the outskirts of a small village; about 30 houses strong with a road and a stream running side by side through its center.
‘I don’t like this much,’ said Raarvan, stopping and allowing Aarvarn to catch up.
‘Not again,’ muttered Aarvarn as he studied the empty road ahead of them. ‘I’ll wager they’ve all gone and gone away on us, like the last one, and the one before.’
‘You’ll get no wager from me, old lump; not today and not tomorrow.’
‘Mayhap they’ve just run off and left the food behind them? That could happen; I can see it in my head.’
Raarvan bumped shoulders. ‘I reckon you see all sorts in that there head. I reckon it would be a strange place to visit, but I’d surely not want to stay.’
‘I’d give you something to fill that empty head of yours and no mistake, but I’m too hungry to deal with your nonsense.’
Aarvarn stepped between two low houses, his elbows shaking the walls as he went.
‘They might have left something; don’t you think there, Raarvan? Here, you’ve got a nose; sniff it out for me. Find me some food, before I pass away from starvating.’
‘You ain’t going to starvate anytime soon; not with that belly of yours, sticking out its face at the world.’
Within minutes they were surrounded by the rest of the Giants, moaning and groaning at the loss of the chance of a free meal.
‘What’s that in yonder field?’ asked Aarvarn, peering along the road as it left the village on its long journey to who knows where.
‘Them’s crops, you old fool. Don’t ye know nothing?’ replied Raarvan, as he sniffed from doorway to doorway.
‘Crops? Ay, I heard of them before. Don’t men make food out of that sort of stuff? I heard of that, I tell you. Yes, they do make food out of crops and stuff.’ Aarvarn began to walk along the road.
‘Where ye going?’ shouted Raarvan.
‘I’s going to get me some crops and make it into food; that’s where I be going.’
Raarvan laughed and his own quite generous belly shook.
‘What are you going to do with it, when you get it?’
‘I’ll make me some bread; that’s what I’ll be doing while you’re off sniffing doorways.’
‘How do you make bread, then, you old lummox?’
Aarvarn stopped and looked back at his friend.
‘Why, with crops, you old fool,’ he said.
Then he set off again; a look of intense concentration on his broad face.
‘Can’t be too damned hard if men can make it,’ he muttered softly to himself, ‘not hard at all. Just dig up some of them there crops and prob’ly throw them in a pot. Yes; there’s bound to be a pot. And I’ll put the pot over a fire, if I can find one. Then, yes, I guess I’ll wait awhile, and when it gets all hot, through and through like, then I reckon I’ll have me a loaf of bread; warm and just ready to eat.’
He stopped again and looked around for a moment.
‘Damnation! I hoped I’d see a cow; ‘cause I just know that’s where they get their butter from.’
Chapter 5 BobbyJ
‘So, BobbyJ, now we’re on the road together, tell me what you know about Wellstones. Show me that you’ll be of some use to me on this quest.’
BobbyJ smiled up at Cavour as he walked beside him, along the narrow dirt road.
‘I know plenty, Mr Cavour; rest assured of that. But how much do you know? Why don’t you impress me and tell me things I don’t know?’
‘And, if I did that, I would be hiding your own ignorance, would I not?’
‘I’ll not claim to know everything; only a fool thinks that. But I know enough; and, what I don’t know, I’ll keep to meself.’
‘And there’s me thinking I asked you a simple question, boy.’
BobbyJ sighed.
‘The Wellstone is the source of all the Magic in the land. There used to be many, all over; enough for a Mage to use its power in nearly every village of a good size. In those distant times, there used to be Giants and Elvenfolk, and other, stranger folk about the land.’
‘And now?’
‘Now the Stones are lost to mankind, though some say different. Some say there are places where Magic is still sustained, and wonders still exist. Some say that, if a man can lay his hand on a Wellstone, he will have unlimited riches, and all the lasses he cares to lay his hands on.’
‘And what do you think of what some say?’
‘I say, that, if a man as clever and wise as the great Mr Cavour will spend his precious time walking through the land in search of it, then, mayhap they are right; them that say.’
Cavour walked in silence for a while, his robe swishing as he strode out, and his dark cloak flowing behind him.
‘The Wellstones still exist,’ he said, at last.
BobbyJ moved closer; hoping for more.
But Cavour continued in silence for some time.
‘I have what I believe to be certain knowledge of one stone, and a fair suggestion of another, and a wild rumor of a third.’
‘Three Wellstones? How can that be? I thought, mayhap we’d find one, but three?’
‘We will be fortunate indeed to find all three.’ He stopped and turned to his companion.
‘How long do you have, BobbyJ? For I will be years on this task, unless my time runs away and I perish before it’s done.’
‘I’m still young, Mr Cavour, and I have time. What’s a year or two spent, when I have so many remaining? I’ll stay with you ‘till the task is done and we’ll surely raise more than a few tankards in celebration, won’t we, sir?’
‘Ay, boy. You’ll be right enough, if we should ever succeed. I’ll buy you enough ale to overflow your ears, and that’s the truth.’
‘So, partners then, in this endeavor?’
‘Partners? No; closer to master and servant, I think,’ replied Cavour, smiling.
‘You don't mention your hand,’ said Cavour, as they came to a wider road.
BobbyJ pulled his right hand from its usual place in his pocket.
'I burnt it something terrible, and I try not to think on it too much, 'cause that just makes it hurt.'
'Have you had a soothnurse look at it? Or a person with some knowledge of these things?'
'Yes, but it will be weeks before I can remove the bandage, so they say.'
'Take care to keep it clean; I've heard that dirt can cause terrible harm.'
'Don't worry for me, master; I'll be fine as a summer's day, soon enough, I reckon.’
The day passed, as long days on the road will, and they slept through the night in a stand of trees beside the road, wrapped in their cloaks.
A week faded away in this manner, until they came to a rough-looking tavern
just a few yards off their path.
'We'll take our rest here tonight, young BobbyJ, if you so please. A bed and some ale will suit us well for the morn.'
'If it has to be, then so be it, Mr Cavour, and I won't say that it don't please me, 'cause that would be a lie.'
‘How is your hand?’ asked Cavour, as they settled down for the first drink of the night, served to them by a lass who would pass for comely only if the light was especially poor.
‘It's as fine as a maid on a summer's day, I reckon,’ he replied with a smile and a wipe of his good hand across his mouth.
‘Now, I've had a drink, and a sit,’ said BobbyJ, when the first round of ale was almost done and dusted, ‘and I'm not distracted by the girl who serves the ale, so tell me, if you so please, what you plan for tomorrow; 'cause I reckon that's why we are here.'
'You are right, my young friend. For tomorrow, we leave the road, and the lowlands, far behind us. I hope the cold don't bother you much, because you'll feel it where we are going; I'll tell you that and you can put a wager on it.'
'If that's the truth, and I don't doubt you, sir, then mayhap I'll take another drink or two, and see if the serving lass don't appeal to me more afterwards.' BobbyJ drained his tankard and leered at Cavour.
'Rest was the plan for tonight, young man,' said Cavour, sternly.
'Ay, you can rest on your back, if you like, and I'll rest on her’s. Who knows when I'll next have the chance for a little road comfort?'
Cavour shook his head and pulled out his pipe.
In truth, neither of them got much in the way of sleep that night, with Cavour sitting in his chair until the small hours, smoking on his pipe and thinking on his plans, and BobbyJ finding that he'd met his match for enthusiasm and energy.
Before the sun had shaken the sleep from its eyes, they were off, with their bags stuffed with thin blankets, borrowed without the say-so of their sleeping host.
The way was steep and the green fields that flanked the road soon fell far behind them.
The fields turned to brown, and then to grey; speckled with ice and snow, as the cold wind bore down upon their heads.
'I ain't never been this cold, and that's the truth to spit on,' moaned BobbyJ, through chattering teeth.'
'Don't worry, lad,' Cavour laughed, 'it's only going to get colder.'
They crested the brow of another steep hill, and paused to take in the view, and catch their breath.
'What under God's Heaven is that?' gasped BobbyJ.
'That is God's Saddle, and our path leads us across its cold, icy wastes,' replied Cavour, as he lowered his long thin body to the ground. 'I'll take a moment to have a rest, and a draw on my pipe, then we can start.'
He suited his action to his words and began to poke inside his bag.
BobbyJ thought that having something warm in his hand sounded like a fine idea indeed, so he pulled out his own pipe.
'Where will we shelter on the glacier?' he asked around his pipe-stem.
'We'll have no rest; we'll cross its shoulder only, and I reckon an afternoon, a night and a full day should get us across, if we don't dally too long with chatter and conversations.'
'It'll be cold, I reckon,' said BobbyJ, glumly. 'I've never been a big fan of the cold, and you can take snow and put it in a pot, for all it's worth to me.'
The night took its own good time to pass as they tramped across the hard ice of the glacier; their way lit clearly by the three-quarter moon.
When the sun finally trundled into the sky, BobbyJ stopped and looked around him. He was surrounded by white, in a million different shades.
'There ain't nothing alive out here, is there Mr Cavour?'
'Nothing but ye and me, BobbyJ, and you look cold as death.'
'Don't worry nothing about me; I'll be fine, and I'll not let an old fellow like you beat me in this.'
'Then don't linger here, taking in the scenery. Let's be off, and finished with this place before the sun hides again.'
The surface they walked on was hard on their feet, and treacherous in so many ways, and the dark seems to come early this high up, so they didn't reach the end of God's Saddle in daylight.
'Just a few hours more, son, and we'll be there.'
'What is that light I see, in the sky?' gasped BobbyJ, as he forced himself forward.
'That light is what has brought us here, across the miles, across the ice.'
'A light? What does that mean?'
'Why, is it not obvious, BobbyJ? Where we have light with no right to be where it is, then that's where we have Magic, and that's no lie.'
Together, with renewed energy and determination, they set off for their final stretch across the ice.
Above them, reaching for the sky, was the red glow of the light from God's Challenge.
Chapter 6 Selly
The serving-girl had watched them from her window as they left, in the first light of the morn.
Selly was her name, and she'd learned a thing or two from that young BobbyJ during the night, though not all was to do with amorous delights.
In the quiet moments of respite, he'd spoken of his past, and his future, perhaps not thinking that she'd pay attention to his words.
But her ears pricked up when he mentioned Magic, for that was a passion for her, and for her uncle.
'Selly, my dear,' her uncle had said, many summers ago, 'Magic is a wondrous thing indeed, and my master, he desires it with all of his old heart, he does. So, if you should chance to hear something on it, no matter how tiny it might be, you get the word to me, and I'll tell him all, and we'll be well placed for the future, and that's the truth.'
'What be Magic?' she’d asked, so innocent and young.
'Ah, my dear, it makes strange beasts; it makes beauty in the sky; it makes men fly across the heavens; and it gives man power over man. And if I had it, I'd surely make you the prettiest of dresses.'
As she watched BobbyJ and Cavour sneaking off in the dawn light she thought that she'd be wanting more than pretty dresses.
She rushed to the cupboard that served as the bed-chamber for her brother.
'Wake thee up now, Josep, and get out of your pit. I've work for you.'
'What's that? Why you waking me like this, when it ain't yet day?' He unrolled himself from his straw bed in the corner and scratched his tussled dark hair.
'Get thee up, and quickly, now. You've to follow them men, who were here last night.'
'Oh ay? I heard you last night, all night at it.'
'Well now, that's nothing to do with you, and you should learn yourself to close your ears. Now, hear me now, and pay attention. You's to follow them men; they've set off but minutes ago. If you're quick, you'll catch them easy enough, but don't let them see you, 'cause this is a secret like, and we don't want them to know you're right behind them. Can you do that?'
'Course I can. If I don't want ‘em to, no-one sees me. But I want to go back to sleep; someone kept me awake half the night with their moans and their groans, and their 'that be just right there, if ye push a little harder.'’
'Shush now, and listen. You follow them, and you see what they shall see, and then you leave them behind, and you go on and see Uncle Henray, and you tell him what you seen, and you tell him I sent you, and I want a reward, like.'
'A reward?'
'Yeah, 'cause I think they're looking for Magic, and the young man, the nice one, he thinks they're very close. So, when you see the Magic, you go and tell Uncle Henray, and he can tell his Master, and he'll go and he'll pinch it from them.'
'His Master?'
'You know; Crawlord Elstar. I ain't seen him, but Uncle Henray, he says there ain't an uglier creature walking God's good earth. Now, be off.'
'Can't I break my fast first?' groaned Josep.
'No, you ain't got time. Take a heel of bread from the kitchen as you go, and take a pair of blankets with you, for the cold.'
'I better get a reward as well,' he moaned, as he wrapped the blankets around
his shoulders.
**********
Lydorth leant against the thick metal bars and breathed in deeply. He could smell the stink of the man, and that was no surprise. The months were mounting up since he’d first entered this cell, and he’d not left since.
‘A good morning, to those of us who are free to enjoy it,‘ he said, at last; a chuckle in his voice, ‘but then that does not include one such as you; does it, Garraldi?’
The man turned his head slowly, and his dark eyes fell on the Trytor.
‘Why does he hate you so much?’ Lydorth smiled. ‘Is it merely because you betrayed your parents? I’d never thought to ask, all this time, but do you still feel the loss? And Cavour; what will he do to you? I really cannot guess. But then, the ways of man are strange to me. So simple in their desires; so complex in the manner they achieve them.’
He studied Garraldi. He was even thinner than his brother, if that was at all possible, and he did not have his brother’s upright posture, or height. Yet there was the same fierceness about him; the same grim determination to endure.
‘He seeks your death with all his heart. And he is prepared to do whatever I should bid him, just so long as I offer him the chance to do what he will with you.’
Garraldi turned away; not a word spoken in reply. Just as, throughout all the months of his imprisonment, silence had been his only shield.
‘Well, it’s time I was about my business, Garraldi. I can’t waste my time in conversation with you; fascinating though it might be. There is a land to be governed, and none to share the load. You should count yourself blessed by fortune to still have a brother; though he hates you above all else.’
He pressed a heavy, seven fingered hand against the bar.
‘Do not fear; I will be back, to be sure that you are well. And your brother will not return soon from the task he has been set. Mayhap, not for some years, I should think. You can worry about what he will do to you nearer the time. No point in bothering your little head about things that may not come to pass.’
With that, he turned away from his prisoner, and his dungeons, and made his way back up through the narrow, winding stairways to his rulehall.