���But whatever your fate, I will journey with you… Whether to death, or to battle.��� Upon those words, all the generals who had not yet been standing, within the overcrowded room, arose from their seats, along with the King (still holding firmly to his wife’s hand), all to show their support and honor for their gracious Queen.
In the mid-afternoon, the horde of a thousand giants descended upon the northern gate, many dragging or pulling by rope, or pushing enormous catapults, which were each themselves the size of small houses.
These giants, grotesque to look at, with their scarred faces, and missing teeth, or in some cases eyes or noses, they held dangerous spiked wood clubs, or had giant sized hook-tipped swords strapped upon their backs.
Their leader was one named Atilion. He stood nearly a head taller than all other giants, and had only a shallow scar across brow. And when the giant’s army had established their ranks, he came to threaten the people of Ismere before the northern gate, defiantly.
Around his waist, a metal skirt of armor like that of an ancient Roman soldier, and a cap style helmet over his broad skull, and an armored plate across his chest, leaving the length of his arms and across his back fully open to attack. The weapon in his hands, a vicious club, like the shape and size of a great oak tree that had been pulled up by the roots, and on the face of the club, cruel long sharpened spikes, each the length of a man’s arm. A terrible giant, proud and arrogant, and unmerciful.
���Slaves,��� Atilion opened wide his arms and said in a low, derisive greeting. ���I am your new master. Surrender, and you will live under my protection.��� And the giant bellowed out a ferocious laugh, leaning his weight upon his behemoth club.
With a heavy persuasion, the archers in the towers were forced to hold back their bows, by the King’s orders. And Barbara and Timothy saw all this unfold, while standing atop the city wall, overlooking the battlements, alongside King Corwan, and Queen Delany, and beside them also many of the royal princes and princesses, who were not busy directing troops elsewhere.
Looking down from the city wall, Timothy knew this was the same giant, with the immeasurable footprints, that had stolen his grandmother away, delivering her to Darius on the cliff’s ledge. And deep within his heart, rising up quickly, Timothy felt for the first time a desire to kill a living person, but more for the sake of justice or vengeance, than in cold blood, but still the desire was there and he may have well tried at it, if Atilion had not been a monstrous giant war king. And while Timothy was still contemplating this new anger, he saw King Corwan step to the edge of the city wall to challenge this new foe.
���You are a fool, Atilion,��� King Corwan pronounced, his royal cape draping down below his waist, and in full armor, holding his helmet at his side. ���…A fool, in proportion to your size. You will die today, and your people will pay our kingdom tribute for a hundred years… Or leave, go in peace, and we will not pursue you. Those are our conditions.���
���You threaten me, little king?��� the giant roared in laughter. ���We will see who will be threatened.���
And Atilion hoisted his club high into the air, giving his signal, calling for the fire boulders that began to rain like hail upon the city, annihilating buildings and marketplaces, and slowly chipping away at the huge quarried stone walls that enclosed the city.
King Corwan and his generals ordered a retaliation attack, launching flaming spears and arrows at the giant’s army, but for reason of distance, and by the sheer size of their enemies, its effects were superfluous at best. Only a handful of giants had been slain, and only one of their catapults burned to the ground.
Along the wall, soldiers ran from post to post: delivering orders, making adjustments for wind and the giants’ movements, and loading towering trebuchets to fling boulders at Atilion’s forces. Which did some good, but only against those giants who were not paying attention; For if they were, they could simply move to the side or reposition their catapults and the boulders from Ismere would fall past them, to no effect.
���To the horses,��� a bearded general cried at the top of his voice. And then there followed the sound of rams horns, calling all cavalrymen to the North Gate.
In the courtyard below, Timothy saw King Corwan mounting a grey and white spotted stallion, as the gate chains clanked with the loudest metal clacking, hurrying to be opened.
Unaccustomed to battle, and with no orders of their own, Timothy and Barbara remained where they had been, standing atop the wall, watching the battle unfold, as the fire boulders continued to descend upon the city. And they had just thought to find a proper place for hiding, when they saw the Queen, followed closely by Princess Alethea, rushing up the steps to greet them.
The Queen had just come from bidding long and unshamefully tearful farewells, to her husband and to the five of her sons who would be riding at the head of the attack. (And those sons, in order of age, were: Reuel, the eldest prince, Kalib, who was after Asa in age, then Barak, Hal, and lastly Tahan.)
And in their goodbyes, Princess Alethea had held her father���s hand and had jokingly said that he had better kill all these giants before the winter’s feast, or else she would not have time enough to prepare her famous lamb’s bread; Which, if you’d imagine a meatloaf, is something very similar, only made from lamb’s meat.
���Then I had better do my best,��� Corwan answered her, bending low from his horse to kiss her forehead. And then with calls of war, the cavalrymen, the knights of Ismere, struck out the gate, at a full gallop to meet the giants in battle.
Which I suppose should return us again to Timothy and Barbara, Queen Delany and Princess Alethea at the top of the wall.
In the Queen’s hand, she held an extra pair of coarse leather gloves, like the kind a blacksmith might wear, and in the Princess’s hands a crossbow and a quiver of arrows she had not had before.
���Here, put these on,��� the Queen said to Timothy, who was for a moment bewildered by his new gift.
���Gloves, Your Majesty?��� he said as a question.
���Yes, and take them,��� she answered.
And as he was fitting the oversized gloves onto his hands, the Queen began to explain. ���As you’ve said, this Darius fellow has an electrified cane, is that correct?��� she continued.
���Yes, Your Majesty,��� both Timothy and Barbara answered together.
���Very well, then,��� the Queen replied. ���Since leather is a poor conductor of electricity, then we might still be able to use our swords.���
And the Queen, Delany, had said ���our swords���, because Timothy had, since their arrival, been given a new sword to replace the one he’d lost. But, as of yet, Barbara had not received any new weapons.
���And, my dear,��� were the Queen’s words, now directing her attention to Barbara. ���If Ismere should fall, and we will pray that is prevented, but if it does, you will flee with my daughter, Alethea, by the cover of night, across the river Theydor, to Rodor Brook, where you will be safe for the time being, and the Princess will secure your safety.���
���Yes, my Queen,��� Barbara answered with a subtle curtsy, to show that she had understood all the Queen’s orders, and because she’d felt it seemed appropriate.
���And for your protection,��� the Queen continued, motioning toward the Princess to present Barbara with her new crossbow and quiver of arrows, and the stock of the bow was lined with a golden ivy pattern, and the fletching of the arrows looked to be made of bluebird feathers.
���Thank you, Your Majesty,��� Barbara replied. ���They’re beautiful,��� was all she could think to say, for indeed they were.
There were shouts along the wall. In a moment of chaos, a watchman in a nearby tower yelled and rang the town bell to warn of another barrage of catapult fire.
���Artillery!
��� he screamed, from high in his tower perch.
A new deluge of fire boulders fell throughout the capital city, and one hit and broke through a part of that seemingly impenetrable city wall, just behind the Queen and Princess Alethea, a part of the wall that had already withstood severe damages.
The royal family, leaping forward to avoid the collapsing wall, the heat from the catapult fire was scorching against their skin. Their walls had been breached; The Queen’s expression was that of extreme sadness, as if she’d seen a loved one slain before her eyes.
(However, that was not it exactly, Queen Delany knew the significance of a wall breach, and that those were the first indications that Ismere had begun to fall to the giant’s army. So that a simple break in the wall meant far more than that, such a thing would mean the nearly inevitable deaths of many innocent people.
And if I might add in just one more commentary on the matter: In every region of the kingdom, it was commonly held that Ismere, its flagship city, would never, and for that matter, could never be lost to an enemy’s forces, nor be ransacked in battle. Though, this was not the sort of belief that men spoke of openly, as they may talk of weather or political matters. This belief was instilled in their hearts, much like our common belief that the world is round, though most men have never experienced its roundness, firsthand. Yet, even so, it is a founding pillar on which we build our lives.
And much like this, among the citizens of Gleomu, their certainty of Ismere’s safety was not something they may have ever consciously believed. They would train in the citizen’s army, and would work to keep its walls in top repair, but all out of a well developed sense of propriety and good intention, and not out of fear. So that there, on this day, there was a birth of a new fear, and a death of an innocence they had been yet unaware of.)
���It’s time, Your Majesty,��� Timothy spoke loudly in the riotousness of the moment.
He could hear the ringing. It was the end of he and Barbara’s seven total hours in Ismere, and now he would be reflected away; Either to follow the globe and the window room, to challenge Darius for the safety of those he cared for, or to be dropped from the outer reaches of space, and to see our world below him as he fell, and he hoped to be prepared for either outcome.
Queen Delany kissed her daughter’s cheek goodbye, and took hold of Timothy’s thick gloved hand. He turned to see Barbara’s eyes beginning to spring up with tears.
���Be safe,��� he told her.
And Barbara, knowing she could not promise her own safety, and knowing there was now no privilege of safety left to Timothy, she said the only honest thing she could think to say.
���Just come back alive,��� she said.
The ringing drowned out all the war, and the light of their orb lifted, outshining the rain of fire boulders. And they shot out over the fields, grazing past the heads of giants, aiming northward at a lightning speed.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Where They Went
They came through the painting, a blinding flash of light in an otherwise black cavernous room, or, as their eyes adjusted, a room within a room. Queen Delany and Timothy had followed the globe, being reflected back into the window room that was now locked up inside Darius’s underground laboratory dungeon, and within its cathedral-like ceilings the window room fit easily inside.
A noise, a jolt of electricity behind them, it crackled and moved to strike at Timothy in the back. Her Majesty’s sword rang out from its sheath, crashing down upon Darius’s cane before he could complete his work. In that instant, lightning bolts of electric current skipped up her sword, reaching her leather gloved hands. The Queen cried out in pain, but did not drop her sword, her gloves insulating most of the strike, so that it was only despicably agonizing, though not powerful enough to keep her from fighting back or to kill her.
By the blazing sparks that reflected in Darius’s eyes, Timothy could see how furious that villain had been, that his ingenious weapon had been thwarted, that he could not easily win. He struck and struck again, each time the Queen slashed to deflect his attacks. Her form irregular and rough, with each new blow her hands seized tighter, her forearms stiffened and burned inside her muscles.
In the dark of that great room, Timothy brandished his sword that he’d been given while in Ismere. The scraping sound of the blade being lifted from its sheath alerted Darius to Timothy’s intentions, and with a turn he jabbed the cane viciously into Timothy’s chest, while at the same time Timothy struck a deep gash into Darius’s right upper arm just below the shoulder.
By the force of the attack, and by virtue of its electrical power, Timothy was blasted backward through the air, smashing against a portion of the window room wall that still remained.
Yet, meanwhile, returning our story to the fields around the besieged city of Ismere: a sea of horsemen came flooding through the gate, fanning out their ranks to rush at full speed in a half-mooned shape toward their giant adversaries. Brave warriors dressed in their steel helmets and shimmering armor, and furs clasped upon some of their shoulders; Most rode with a javelin in one hand and the horse reins in the other, and with long tipped double-edged broadswords on their backs, or a bow and quiver strapped across their chest.
The thunder of thousands upon thousands of horse hoofs, and the battle cries of their riders, well armed with barbed arrows, or sword blades as finely sharpened as razors, but ahead of them a horde of giants, as tall as two-story buildings (and Atilion even taller). So that by comparison, these weapons of war seemed like children’s toys in their hands.
Timothy coughed, trying to restart his lungs and breathing, that had suffered from Darius’s electrified strike. His back aching and bruised from the force of his impact against the wall, and all the muscles in his chest felt like they had almost been wrenched in half.
And Delany had not fared so well either, for although she could unhand most of the kingdom’s knights in combat, here there was an unfortunate difference. With every defensive movement, every swipe or thrust in Darius’s direction, her hands and forearms burned more painfully. As planned, her gloves had done decently well at absorbing lightning shocks from the villain���s cane, but they could not do enough. And with each new blow she grew weaker and less agile, until her swings became brutish, and desperate.
With a swift jab, Darius broke through her defenses, hitting with a full force into the Queen’s thigh. She cried out in pain, toppling backward to the ground, at the base of Darius’s towering wired tree-like mechanism. Sparks crawled up the trunk of the machine, singeing the ends of her hair.
From across the room there was a yell.
���I’ll destroy it,��� Timothy threatened, standing over the globe with his sword drawn. What this would mean, never having a way home, ruining all chances he’d ever have to see England again, to be reunited with his parents. And for what, the half-hearted chance that Darius might not kill them? But he had to try at least.
���You think I won’t kill her, boy?��� Darius sneered, then glanced again to the ground to see the Queen still writhing in pain from her wounds.
���No… but I think you can’t kill her and save your globe, all at once,��� Timothy called out, his lungs still weakened, and his chest still struggling to gain breath.
���I’ll make another,��� Darius answered him, but with the faintest shake in the timbre of his voice. ���But in the interest of time, I shall, instead, make you an offer: Chop it to pieces, and I shall kill you both,��� and as Darius said this he was slowly taking steps toward the old window room, and Timothy, and the globe. ���Or… spare it, and I will spare your life, and let you go home. Don’t you want that?��� he asked, using false tones of decency.
���You’re lying,��� Timothy yelled, re-gripping his sword for a strike. Although he needn’t have yelled, for Darius had already steadied closer to him, keeping his arms spread open as he walked, to make a show like h
e was not a threat.
���I am?��� Darius responded. ���How ever do you mean?���
���You can’t build one, or else you would have done it already… You need this, and I can take it away,��� Timothy said, reeling back for a final strike.
The sound of cane against a sword’s blade, one metal scraping against another, and the audible crackling of electric bolts from the tip of Darius’s weapon: In the last second, Timothy swung outward, instead of down at the globe, catching that old fiend completely by surprise.
But at once, Timothy’s hands began to seize, clenching tighter and tighter, because of the shock. Soon his muscles would be useless, and so he knew he had to act quickly. With the flick of his wrist, he spun his blade around his enemy’s weapon, as Asa had shown him during training (and as he’d spent a week’s time practicing). The sharpened edge clinked and grinded, forcing both cane and sword down upon the face of the globe.
Like a battery instantly charged, or like the sound of a jet engine preparing for a blast, a high-pitched whirling noise started in the center of the globe and grew until it was deafeningly loud, almost immediately. Supercharged by Darius’s electric cane, the globe became unstable. An otherworldly crystalline blue light emanated from its core; until, at last, it became far too much. An uncontrollable explosion shook through the room, a circular wall of tangible energy burst forth from the globe, blasting Timothy and Darius from their feet, and sending them hurtling through the air.
Timothy was thrown backward with an incredible force, smashing his back flatly into a stack of boxes and crates that shattered apart as he hit them, leaving scraps of wood collapsed down overtop of him.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 21