by J Battle
Cavour stood up and coughed. Then he coughed again. ‘He’s trying…, no that’s not loud enough. He’s trying to escape!’ He called at the top of his voice.
‘Through the roof,’ whispered BobbyJ.
‘Yes, of course, through the roof!
‘Don’t forget the bed.’
‘Oh yes, is this you breaking through the roof?’ said Cavour, as he knocked the end of the bed against the wall. ‘Do you think it would sound like this? Not more like a ripping, tearing sound?’
‘Just keep at it, and shouting.’
‘He’s…he’s almost through now. Just one leg hanging down.’
BobbyJ groaned quietly and shook his head.
Then the grating sound of the door’s heavy lock silenced them both.
The guard was big, round and a little too old for the job, but the club he was carrying in his right hand looked like it was capable of doing considerable damage, to anyone slow enough to be hit by it.
He tapped it against one heavy, callused hand as he stepped into the room.
BobbyJ leapt onto his back with a low growl, and threw his belt over the guard’s broad bald head and around his throat, and then he pulled both ends tight towards his own chest.
‘Raagh!’ roared the guard, swinging his club, to no avail as BobbyJ was behind him and Cavour had had the good sense to move to the far corner of the room; nicely out of reach.
‘Rooarr!’ roared the guard as he threw himself backwards; hoping to crush his assailant against the wall. Unfortunately, his spacial awareness had never been good and he did little more than push BobbyJ into the corner.
That was pretty well the last thing he said, apart from a groan or two, and a grunt, as BobbyJ crushed the last breath from him.
‘Here lad, that’s enough, I think. No need to kill him, now, is there?’ said Cavour, as he walked closer.
Bobbyj said nothing; he just squeezed for a moment longer, then he lifted his hands, dropped the belt, and pushed the guard’s heavy head to one side.
It took him a moment longer to maneuver his way past the guard and out of the corner.
‘Come on and let us go, Mr Cavour, before someone else happens to come along.’
‘Is he…?’
‘Pay no heed to him, sir. He was old enough anyway; I don’t suppose he wished to be much older.’
‘But…’
Cavour stopped as he found that he was talking to himself, and followed BobbyJ.
‘That’s a big fine door, don’t you think? What does he keep in there?’ asked Bobby, stopping before a heavy, metal shod door.
‘Let us hope it is not where he keeps his guards,’ said Cavour, as he joined him.
‘’Well, we’ll find out soon enough, I should say.’ BobbyJ smiled and lifted the latch on the door.
His smile widened when the door swung open and he saw what the room held.
‘Well, now Mr Cavour, step in here and see what’s to be seen, because I reckon you’ve been waiting a long enough time for this.’
‘Is it…?’
BobbyJ made room for Cavour to pass him and walk into the room.
‘It don’t look much, does it?’ he said, as he joined Cavour.
‘Ay, lad,’ whispered Cavour.
BobbyJ reached out with his right hand.
‘No, lad, don’t touch it lad; it might be hungry still, though it has something of a glow about it. We need something to carry it in. I wish I had my bag. I had special gloves and a place to store it.’
‘Don’t worry about that, Mr Cavour. Not at all. It’s not going to hurt me; not even if it was hungry.’
He smiled again and turned to Cavour. ‘You’ve done well, Mr Cavour, to find the first Stone so soon. Better than expected if I am to be truly honest; which, of course, now I can be.’
As he spoke, he began to unravel the grimy bandage that covered his right hand.
‘What are you doing, lad?’ asked Cavour, his eyes fixed on the action of BobbyJ’s hands.
When his hand was free, he reached out and took the heavy Stone in his dark, scaly, seven fingered hand.
‘My father will be pleased, don’t you think?’
Book II
Patience child, for we were not always this way.
Chapter 27 Anders
He floated as if the ground dared not touch his feet on the return journey, as if he was truly one with the Magic of the Wellstone.
Limping slightly behind him came Aavtaar, favouring the arm that had struck the last blow against the crawlord.
‘You sure saw him off there, Mage,’ grunted Aavtaar, ‘with his tail between his legs, if he had a tail.’
Anders stopped and frowned.
‘Will he be back, with others of his race, do you think?’
Aavtaar glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that the Elvenfolk were not already there.
‘Ay,’ he said, slowly, ’they’ll be back, now they’ve had a taste of that there Magic, and that’s for sure.’
Anders nodded, the euphoria draining away all of a sudden.
‘We must post guards at the North of the valley, led by someone with more in the way of martial skills than Frenk. Someone who can delay them and give us good warning.’
Aavtaar raised his axe with his good hand. ‘My weapon has already tasted blood, and she is eager for more, Mage.’
‘Good man, there, Aavtaar, but you’ll need a good force of men with you. You must go to Hesselton and round up as many good men as you can find; clear out the taverns if you must, and say that this is the word of Anders the Terrible, and that you will not be denied.’
‘Ay, Mage, I’ll do just that and I’ll be off right away.’
Anders put his and on Aavtaar’s shoulder.
‘You look tired and hurt there, man. Come back to the palace and have a bite to eat first, and if the Lady is about, mayhap she’ll ease your pain somewhat. I think we’ll have a little time yet.’
‘Don’t worry about me none, sir. Being knocked over and thrown about by a crawlord don’t mean nothing to me, and that’s for sure.’
‘Well said there, Aavtaar, but you must do as I say; I want you at your best for the coming trial, so nod to the inevitable and let me be generous.’
‘If you say so, Mage.’
Together they continued, walking side by side as the Mage discussed his plans for the coming invasion.
As he spoke, Aavtaar couldn't help wondering if his offer to stand up against the hoard of Elvenfolk could benefit from a dash of reconsideration.
**********
The light from the Wellstone lit up his face, bringing a red glow of lust to his eyes as he stared into its unknowable depths.
Cavour hesitated for a moment before he placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘Come, we must go before we are discovered,’ he whispered, his mind staggering under the weight of the knowledge that his companion was the son of the Trytor.
‘Fear not, Cavour,’ replied BobbyJ without taking his eyes from his precious treasure, ‘not when I have this in my hand.’
‘Who are you? And what are you doing in here?’
They both turned to face her; Cavour reaching for a sword he no longer had, and BobbyJ smiling still.
Though her filmy clothes barely hid her slim figure, and her hands shook, she held their eyes with her head high and proud.
‘Put it back quickly, before the Mage returns. He’ll be so angry to find you here without his permission.’
‘Who are you, my dear?’ said BobbyJ, as he took a step towards her.
‘Doesn’t matter who I am, sir. What matters is that you put down that stone and leave before he comes back.’
‘My name is BobbyJ, and this is my friend, Mr Cavour. Now you know us, it would be impolite not to give us your name, and that is the truth.’
She sighed and glanced back through the doorway.
‘If you must know, my name is Loren, and now, please go, or I will be the one to suffer if he finds you
here.’
For the first time, she looked past them at the bundle of clothes on the floor beside the table.
‘Oh no!’ she gasped, as she threw herself to the ground, grasping at the flimsy material.
The bones rattled as they shifted beneath her hands.
‘Clara! What has he done?’ she sobbed.
Cavour grabbed BobbyJ’s arm.
‘Come, we must go, even as she says.’
‘What about the girl?’
‘We did not come for the girl. We have what we came for, and now we must leave.’
‘But, a lady in such distress? Where is your manners, Cavour?’
‘Your father would not have us delay, and risk the loss of the Stone.’
‘You do not have to worry about him; I will deal with him.’
‘Yet still, we must be gone.’
‘Wait, mister,‘ said Loren, as she regained her feet, ‘don’t leave me here, all alone. He’ll do this to me if you do. Wherever you are going, please take me with you. For I cannot stay.'
‘No, young lady. I am afraid that we cannot take you with us, for we must travel in haste. But, by all means, leave this place, and find your own way to safety.’ Cavour turned his back on her so as not to see the pain on her face.
‘But, sir. You are strangers to this land. You do not know where you should be to avoid the Mage when he returns. If you take me with you, I can show you how to leave the valley in safety.’
‘There you go, Cavour. That’s a good reason to take her with us, and she has a fairer face than yours to look on, and that’s the truth.’
‘Whatever we do must be done quickly, so bring her along if you must, but she must be treated as a lady, do you hear me, BobbyJ? A lady.’
‘Don’t you worry nothing about that, Mr Cavour,‘ laughed BobbyJ. ‘I’ll treat her very kindly, and with full respect. Now, my dear Lady Loren, do you have clothes more suitable for the road than the bedroom?’
Loren blushed. ‘These are the only garments he allows us to have.’
‘Then here, take this cloak and cover yourself. How does that look, for chivalry and the like, Mr Cavour?’
Cavour ignored them both and strode from the room.
Chapter 28 Esmere
‘Talk to me, if you will.’
Esmere looked up at the Trytor, and tried not to react to the stench of rotting meat on his breath.
‘What would you have me say, my Lord?’
‘Whatever comes to your mind, be it about your life, your wishes, your hopes.’
‘I hope to be fed, my lord. You have had me down there, in chains for nigh on three days, now; without food, or water.’
Lydorth laughed. ‘Are you suggesting that I am not a good and generous host? You were going to instruct me, I believe.’
Her mouth was dry and her lips chapped, and only the back of the chair was keeping her upright, but she glared up at him.
‘This is not a game, Trytor. You cannot treat people like this; not at all.’
Lydorth looked away.
‘You will be fed, and have drink,’ he said, after a moment. ‘Yes, share a meal with me, if you will.’ He lifted his head and bellowed for food.
‘You remind me of…someone I once knew,’ he said, quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
Esmere thought it best to remain silent.
‘Angell, she was named, and her face and form were beautiful. Ah, I can see her now, when she first came to me; when I had her brought to me, for none come to me of their own free will, do they Esmere?’
She gripped the arms of her chair and shook her head.
‘I thought her just like all the others; fairer, perhaps, but yet still the same. I had her cut just as you were, and I used her; again and again I used her. But she was strong; stronger that you would have thought, and she endured.’
She endured, thought Esmere, and so shall I, but I will not be used in such a fashion.
There was silence for a while, as they both swam amongst their own thoughts.
A servant came, carrying a tray of food to the table in the centre of the Rulehall. Another brought flagons of drink.
‘She fell with child from me,’ Lydorth broke the silence when they were alone again.
‘As the child grew within her, so did her hatred for me. I could not enter her room without her spitting and cussing at me. She had to be restrained so that she would not hurt herself as she threw herself at me in a futile effort to harm me.
‘When nine months had passed and still her time had not come, she began to scream. She screamed for days until she’d worn herself out. Then she’d sleep, and wake, and scream again. This went on for more than three months, and still the baby did not come. A Trytor child requires 13 months to come to ripeness, and by then she was too big to move; her belly distended, her limbs shrunken; her beautiful face twisted and torn by madness. And still she screamed. She clawed at her belly; striking at herself to destroy the life within her. I could not bear to enter the room in those last few days, though, at times, I would stand in the doorway, watching as the soothenurses fussed around her.’
Esmere looked up at his face, thinking to see tears, but none were visible.
‘The child came, and his coming killed her, but not before she saw what she had brought into the world, and began to scream once more.’
‘That is a terrible story, my lord. What became of the child? Did he survive?’
The Trytor leapt from his throne.
‘Come, Esmere. Time to put these maudlin thoughts behind us and feed. I hope you like your meat rotting and rancid, for there is no other way to feed.’
Esmere remained where she was; she could already smell the meat, and she was not quite that hungry.
*********
'I's hungry; so hungry.'
'Not as hungry as me; not at all. I ain't seen food today, at all, and I'm shrinking away.'
Aarvarn looked down at his friend's belly.
'Not so you'd notice, you big lump,' he said, bumping shoulders as they walked.
'A thin giant is a terrible thing to see, and that's for sure,' continued Raarvan, oblivious to the grin on his old comrade's face, 'and you'll see one soon enough, less I eat something soon.'
'Don't you worry none, Raarvan, now we be on our ownsome, without them other big hungry Giants...'
'And stupid, don't forget that, burning good food and the like.'
'Ay, big hungry stupid Giants; that's right. We'll find food easier, with just the two of us.'
'But it's been hours, and we ain't seen nothing likely yet.'
They both fell silent as they lumbered up the side of a hill, ripping the grass into clods with their great feet.
'Hey now,' said Aarvarn, when he reached the summit,' take a look-see and tell me what thee sees.'
'I don't see no food, I'll tell you that, for all the looking.' Raarvan rested his massive hands on his broad hairy knees as he waited for his breath to return.
'I see a road, down there; see?'
'Ay, it be a road, and that’s the truth, but I can't eat it.'
'You don't want to eat it, you want to follow it,' grunted Aarvarn, as he began to descend the gentle slope.
'What good does that do me? Following a road when I don't know where it be going?'
'Ah now, Raarvan, you say that, but you be wrong. We do know where it be going, and that's the truth and you can make a bed of it and sleep soundly through the night.'
'Your brain's addled by the hunger, and you've listened to too much man-talk.'
'The road will take us to a town; that's what roads do. And what will we find in a town?'
Raarvan looked blank for a moment with his lips moving silently as he looked for an answer.
'Buildings?' he said, at last.
'No! Not buildings! Well, there will be buildings, else it's not a town, but that's not what I mean. There'll be food, and ale. Plenty for just two Giants, even when one's as greedy as you.'
'I ain't greedy! I just eat everything I see, and when I'm done, I move, so's I can see some more. What's wrong with that?'
Aarvarn stopped when he reached the edge of the road. He looked one way along its length for a moment, and then he shook his head. He turned and looked the other way. After a moment, his shoulders seemed to slump a little.
'Well, Giant, which way do we go?' asked Raarvan, slapping a heavy arm across his shoulders.
'I…I don't know. I can't see no buildings this way, and I can't see no buildings that way.' He sat himself down in the dirt by the side of the road and began to rub his belly.
'Well, can't we just walk any which way we choose? The road will lead from one town to another, won't it? So it don't matter which way we go, do it?' Raarvan took a couple of steps along the road, to the south, as if to prove his point.
'But it do matter, can't you see? If we goes this way, and there's a town just round the bend the other way, then we'll be walking away from all that food.'
'But…we'll be walking towards the food in the other town, won't we? I reckon that's how it works.'
Aarvarn looked up at the other giant, a frown resting on his wide face as he tried to see the truth in his words.
'Ay there, Raarvan, you be right. I see that now. You're not as stupid as you look. Now, give us a pull up and let's be on our ways, 'cause I could eat my own boots, if I had any.'
They set off together, walking south.
After no more than a dozen paces, Aarvarn stopped and turned north.
Raarvan watched him as he set off in that direction, shaking his head as he settled himself down on the road.
After barely 30 paces, Aarvarn stopped again, and turned back. He stood there for nearly an hour, moving a couple of steps south, then a few more north, and repeating the action, over and over.
Eventually Raarvan had had enough. He grumbled back to his feet and set off after his old friend. When he reached him, he took Aarvarn by the hand and began to lead him south.
'But, how do ye know that this is the best way?' protested Aarvarn.