by J Battle
‘There you be, lads. Hiding out the live-long day, avoiding any chance of a good, honest day’s work.’
‘Hello, Dan the Man,’ the boys said, in unison.
‘What’s this all about then, Sam? I heard you from below, going all around the houses to get to your question, and I reckoned I could have a good tankard of ale in Where There’s the Need before you finished. But the lady, she said to invite you all to a...now, what did she call it?’ He scratched his head to aid his recollection.
‘Ay, that’s it. A celebration, she said. A celebration for those who have gone, and of the new future we are going to create. That last bit sounds a lot of work to me, but you never know.’
‘A celebration. That sounds good. I ain’t never been to a celebration,’ said Sam.
‘So, Sam, before you rush off to get all washed up, you had a question.’
‘Well,’ Sam looked from one to the other to make sure he wasn’t being mocked, ‘you see, there ain’t no Magic left in the world now, and you know that piece of wood the old mage gave me?’
‘I reckon I saw it, hanging around, cluttering up the place.’
‘Well, it said, ‘When the age of Magic comes to an end, then the First Men shall return.’ That’s what it said. So, will they be here soon, or have we got to hang around for ages waiting for them?’
Dan the Man knelt down beside Sam, and he smiled at the other two.
‘Why, Sam,’ he said, slowly, ‘don’t you know? We are already here.’
Chapter 86 Three weeks later
‘Here, this will work, I reckons, if you just do what I tell you.’
Aarvarn looked up the hill dubiously.
‘It’s still a hill,’ he said, after due consideration. ‘No matter what you say, I still have to walk up it.’
‘Come on, you big lumps. It’s the last hill, and then we’ll be there,’ urged Ferrooll, just about at the end of his tether after three weeks on the road with this pair.
‘Look, Aarvarn, you stand here in front of Ferrooll, and I’ll stand behind him, and then he’ll push you up the hill, so it won’t be so hard for you,’ said Raarvan, guiding them into position as he spoke.
‘Ay, that would work, I reckons,’ said Aarvarn.
‘And I’ll push you, Ferrooll,’ said Raarvan, with a broad grin on his broad face at his own ingenuity.
Ferrooll sighed. ‘Who will push you?’
‘What?’
‘Who will push you?’
‘Oh...’ Raarvan turned to look behind himself just to be sure there wasn’t someone else there offering himself up for the task.
‘I know,’ said Aarvarn, ‘I ain’t pushing anyone, so come around here and I’ll push you.’
‘Ay, now that’s an idea, Aarvarn, I’ll do just that.’
There was so much Ferrooll could have said about the situation, but he held his tongue and planted his hands on Aarvarn’s wide back and shoved him a little harder than was entirely necessary.
With pushes and grunts, and more than a few complaints at the effort required, and one or two questions that went along the lines of, ‘why ain’t all ground flat? Or downhill? That’d be good, I reckons.’
At last they reached the summit, and in all truth, it was not very high.
‘Oh, my,’ said Raarvan.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Aarvarn.
‘What?’ said Ferrooll.
‘They’re there...’ said Raarvan, helpfully.
‘What?’
‘Took your own sweet time, you did.’
‘Oh, my,’ said Ferrooll.
‘Ay,’ said Raarvan. ‘They’re here.’
There were three female Giants just a few yards down the hill, blocking the way with their bulk and their stern expressions.
‘We been waiting for weeks, we have,’ said the closest, a striking creature with long black hair spread across her massive shoulders and eyes that made Aarvarn want to stand behind Raarvan, or Ferrooll, or anyone.
‘Come here,’ she said, ‘My name is Tenujar, and I don’t like to wait. Come here now.’
‘She means you,’ whispered Aarvarn.
‘She’s looking at you,’ replied Raarvan, with a look of determination on his face. Or a look of fear. It could have been fear.
‘But...can we go back? Look it’s downhill.’
‘They would just catch you, and then they’d be annoyed,’ assured Ferrooll, standing the way you might stand if you expected a heavy rock to fall on you.
‘But...I’m frightened,’ hissed Aarvarn, gripping Rarvaarn’s arm.
‘Mayhap she’ll be gentle with you,’ suggested Raarvan, without much in the way of conviction.
Tenujar had her arms folded across her imposing chest, and she was tapping on of her feet.
‘Alright, I’ll go, but...If you don’t see me again...’
‘Don’t worry, Aarvarn,’ said Ferrooll, ‘breeding is not usually fatal for the male. Well, not always, it ain’t.’
A second female moved closer. She was equally impressive, with her hair arranged in a complicated cloud around her head, supported by an arrangement of clips and glittering strings of jewels.
‘I’s Angrer, and I ain’t waiting any longer. I’m coming up to get you, and woe betide you if I reach the top before you reach me.’
‘She’s yours,’ said Aarvarn, as he set off to meet his new paramour.’
‘I think she means you,’ said Raarvan hopefully, to Ferrooll.
‘Is she looking at me?’ For the first time, there was actual fear in his voice.
‘She could be, she’s sort of cross-eyed.’
‘Then we will walk down together, and she will choose one of us.’
‘That’s an idea. Will you hold my hand? Oh, no!’
‘What?’
‘You don’t want to... That Tanujar has clouted Aarvarn about the head and slung him over her shoulder and now she’s off with him.’
‘I’m nearly there,’ called Angrer, with real threat in her voice.
‘Come on, guide me down,’ snapped Ferrooll, ‘What’s the other one like?’
Raarvan looked at the third female. She was standing quietly to one side, not really seeming to pay attention. She was somewhat taller than her friends, but less massive. Her hair was blonde and just about reached her shoulders. There was hardly any menace about her at all.
‘At least she’s quiet,’ said Raarvan, as he pushed Ferrooll towards Angrer, ‘and she’s mine.’
The trials that the last three male Giants were subjected to over the following few weeks are not part of this story, but suffice it to say that their sacrifice was not wasted and a new generation of Giants was sired.
They were fewer than before, and they kept themselves away from the world of man, mostly.
But a Giant finds it hard not to take advantage of free food, or free ale. Free ale would always do.
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HERE END THE TALES OF MISTHAVEN
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A Giant Story
Part 1
Todlon
Many, many years before the events of the Misthaven stories, Todlon tramped through the land that would one day be Midland, on his way to Verdant, or, as it was still called at the time, Green.
Todlon was a Giant, and he was immensely proud of the fact. Whenever he came upon a body of water, he’d stop and admire his reflection; enjoying the sight of his broad shoulders and enormous belly and relishing the thickness of his giantish limbs.
If no still water was available, he would examine his great fists as he walked, because they truly were splendid.
If he happened to come across a creature that lacked his stature, he’d feel saddened that they were missing out, but happy that he was the one who was the Giant.
On that morning, he came to a wide river that crossed his path.
He stopped for a moment, wondering if the river might stop for a moment so he could e
njoy a sight of his magnificent body, but the river remained resolutely mobile, flowing on its slow steady journey to the sea.
He turned to follow the river, because Giants don’t like to get wet.
He came to a small wood, made up of Ferrel trees, tall and slender, with a good mixture of Woeful Wendys, their drooping branches almost touching the ground, and even one or two Old Men, broad and stout and hoary.
Todlon stopped once more to give the trees a good hard look, for this seemed like a place where a lucky Giant might come across some Fletterschem, and that would just about make his day, he thought.
‘Ain’t seen one for…well, I don’t know how long. Not today, and not yesterday, I reckon. Mayhap not even last week. I wouldn’t be surprised.’
He settled his great broad bottom on the soft grass just by the trees, and he took his long white pipe from his bag.
‘Ain’t got any weed,’ he muttered, sadly, ‘but I’ll suck it anyway.’
He’d been there an hour or so, and it would be hard to say if he was closer to sleep than he was to wakefulness, when he heard a delicate, tinkling chime.
His eyes flicked open, and he saw a flicker of light amongst the narrow branches.
He smiled then, for he knew well enough what he was seeing.
‘Little Fletterschem, I reckon, unless I’m the fool my pa always said I was.’
A creature emerged from the shadows, humanlike in form, but much smaller than a man, and so slim, with long limbs out of proportion to its short little body. Todlon had heard that Fletterschem could run like the wind when the mood was on them, but he’d never seen the wind run, so it meant little to him.
‘Hello there, little person,’ he said, in a voice as soft as a Giant could manage, which, in all truth was not very soft.
The Fletterschem skipped at the sound of his voice, before he bowed his little round head low.
‘Giant, good day to you, I say.’ His voice was a little squeaky and not very loud, yet Todlon heard every word.
‘It be a better day for seeing you, I reckon,’ said Todlon, and his grin was so wide, a tall man would have struggled to reach across from one side to the other.
‘We are well met, indeed.’ The Fletterschem stood upright as he spoke, though his head barely reached the Giant’s knee. ‘We have need of your help, Giant, if it is not too rude to ask.’
‘Ah now, my new little friend, the helping of a Fletterschem is a blessing, my pa always said, and my ma, she agreed, and that was a rare thing indeed, ‘cause she never liked to agree with my pa, on principle like.’
‘We should perform introductions, before I ask for help correctly. My name is Septon-day, son of Ellester and Fallerst, of Assgrad, land of plenty.’ He bowed once more.
‘Oh, well I’m just Todlon, son of…ma and pa, of…up the hill there aways.’ He bobbed his head a little, but it could hardly be mistaken for a bow.
‘Good day to you then, Todlon, son of ma and pa, of up the hill there aways. It is fortunate indeed that we should meet on this fateful day.’
‘Fateful day? I’ve heard of windy days, and rainy days, and even sunny days, but I ain’t never heard of ‘fateful’ days.’
‘We should move amongst the trees, for we are too open here, and can be seen by anyone who cares to look.’
‘I’m a Giant, so I ain’t good at hiding, I’d say,’ said Todlon, as he prepared to stand up. You’ll never get a Giant rushing to his feet, because there’s a lot to do and it should never be hurried.
‘If I set you down by an Old Man, you’d hardly notice the difference.’
‘You calling me a tree?’
‘You certainly have the stature of a tree.’
Todlon smiled as he walked into the trees. He liked the sound of that.
)()()()()()()()()()(
He watched them go without a sound. From the river bank, he could easily have laid his sharp throwing spear between the shoulder-blades of the Giant; he was, after all a big enough target, but Old Tagg had whispered, ‘Stay your hand, man,’ and gripped him tightly by the arm.
Young Bigg had laughed gently from the boat bopping on the river, and he knew the foolish lad would make fun at his expense as soon as the opportunity arose.
“I could have had him,‘ hissed Blagg, as the disparate pair disappeared between the trees.
‘You’d only have gone and got him mad, you would, if you’d stuck your spear in his back,’ replied the old man, as he released the younger man’s arm. ‘You’ve not seen a Giant before, have ye? They’re not like other creatures. You can’t hardly hurt them, or at least you have to be lucky if you’re going to do it, and it is right easy to annoy them. I should know, for I did it meself, once, and I’ll think more than twice about it before I do it again, I will.’
‘Now they’ve gone into the wood and we’ll have to follow them, and it won’t be easy, because those little fellows, they have good ears, they do, and they’ll only hear you coming.’
‘Now, Blagg, listen to me now, and listen proper. We don’t have to follow them, lad, because we knows just where they’re going, don’t we?’
Blagg looked down at Old Tagg, and gave it a moment for the knowledge to seep into his brain.
‘Where are they going?’ he asked after an age, when it seemed that the knowledge was not going to come to him without some assistance.
‘There’s a small clearing in the centre of the wood. Belling saw it yesterday, when he was spying out the land for us. And there it was, just sitting there on a little wooden trestle, as if it weren’t nothing special at all.’
‘Belling saw it? He wasn’t just pulling your beard? He’s a one for the lies is Belling.’
Tagg stroked his beard, which was long and white and worthy of a deal of pulling.
‘No, lad. He spoke the truth. It’s there alright, just waiting for us.’
Blagg fitted his spear into the half-scabbard across his back, and then he withdrew both of his swords.
‘Come on then, wise old man, let’s get a move on before the sun takes itself to bed.’
‘We’ll leave Bigg with the boat, to leave a way to escape, because Giants don’t like the water, not at all.’
The pair of men left the river behind them and walked carefully towards the trees.
Young Bigg watched them go, and he shook his head at their foolishness. He might be young, he’d say, if anyone cared to ask him, but he was old enough to see that messing about with a Giant was bound to end badly.
‘They need 10 men and a lot of rope, and a clever plan to make it all work,’ he said, as he untied the slender rope from the tree-root protruding from the riverbank.
‘And they ain’t got none of that, so I’ll tie meself up at the far bank just to be on the safe side of stupid.’
He suited his actions to his words and paddled across the narrow width of the water.
‘If they come a rushing with the Giant right behind them, they won’t mind getting a bit wet, and it wouldn’t do much good to be on that side of the river, sitting in our little boat with the Giant close enough to grab us out of the water.’ He nodded as he spoke, because he was surely not far from being right.
Part 2
‘There you are,’ said Septon-day, with something of a flourish in his attitude.
Todlon looked for something to be impressed by, but all his could see was a lump of dull brown stone in the middle of a little wooden barrow, set in the centre of a small clearing.
‘Well…,’ he said, ever so slowly, hoping that some understanding of what he was seeing might come to him before he reached his next word.
‘It is a Wellstone,’ said Septon-day, helpfully.
‘Well, I never,’ said Todlon, and he gave his great head a shake.
‘Indeed, good Giant, it is a sight to behold,’ commented Septon-day, with his hands on his narrow hips and his head tilted back to look up at the face of his massive companion.
‘A Wellstone, is it? I heard of them before, but I ain�
��t seen one.’
‘That is hardly a surprise, my friends, for they are rare enough in the land, and we hope to be sure that they become rarer still.’
Todlon bent a little to give the unimpressive rock a closer look.
‘Why is that?’ he said, when he’d finished his examination and gained precious little from it.
‘The Stone means nothing to my people, and your good people care nothing for them, but men, now that is a different case altogether. They lust after the Stone and the power it can give them, and they will even take the pain the Stone gifts to them. And they will do anything they can to take the Stone, no matter what harm befalls any creature who would be in their way.’
‘Well, they ain’t getting past me, I’ll tell you that on a Tuesday, and I’d say it again on a Friday, I would.’
‘That’s good to hear, my friend, for there are groups of men close by, and they are sniffing a little too close for comfort.’
‘Well, I’ll just set meself down by the Stone, and if you could get me some food, or ale; ale would be fine, and I’ll…what’s the word now? I know it, I do, but I just can’t get hold of it in my head. Oh yes, I’ll guard it for you, that’s what I’ll do.’
‘That is very kind of you, good Todlon, and just what I hoped you say. Now, I’ll arrange some food for you and then we can discuss what I’d ask you to do next.’
‘If you’re getting me food, and ale, I reckons I know right well what I’ll be doing next.’
Septon-day smiled. ‘Of course you do, and I’d ask for nothing else, until you are fully fed.’
‘Fully fed? What does that mean when it’s at home and making sausages? If you’re waiting for me to be fully-fed, you’ll be waiting a good long time, because it ain’t happened yet as far as I can tell.’
‘When you’ve had enough to allow you to consider other things?’
‘Ay, that sounds a mite better, but there’ll be no rushing, and that’s for sure.’