Against the Giants (11 page)

Once they reached the crest, Nemis went flat and tugged
Malowan’s ear close. “Can you make it out?” he breathed.

Malowan gazed out and down, then finally nodded.

“Good. Straight down the slope you’ll find a boulder and some
thorny scree. Don’t speak once you move from here—it’s near enough the tower
that the guards will hear us.”

The paladin nodded again, then drew his ward close. She
tensed, then leaned against him briefly.

“Ready?” he asked softly. She gave him Rowan’s sign for
We
go now.
Malowan replied in like fashion, then eyed Nemis. “Lead, we’ll
follow.”

Nemis moved out, low on hands and knees.

This side of the hill was steeper than the way they’d come
up. The mage reversed himself and eased down feet-first, turned sideways with
one hand out to catch at the tough brush so he wouldn’t slide to the bottom.
What grass there was here was slick with dew and slippery as ice underfoot.
Fortunately, most of the slope was dirt and rock.

Nemis finally stopped and drew them down with him into a
shallow depression between a fat boulder and thick brush. Malowan edged forward
and gazed down for some moments, then eased silently back, gripped the mage’s
shoulder and without further ado, moved to his right and began working his way
down into the dell. Agya followed.

The air had been icy cold outside the fort, particularly for
Agya who’d had to rub her hands together several times before they were warm
enough to manage her metal lockpicks. Mal stood ready with his sword as his ward
worked at the massive locks. After several minutes, there was an all-too-loud
clack
as she freed the innermost tumbler. The door swung open.

Inside, it was cold but not as damp, and the air was stuffy.
Malowan smelled unwashed bodies and sweaty furs, but there was no one in sight.
Agya stepped away from him, eyes moving nonstop while his were still adjusting
to the gloom. It seemed to be a cloakroom, just as Vlandar’s information had
indicated. Huge outer garments hung from pegs. The wall to his right held doors,
a double doorway flanked by a single door to each side. At least, Malowan
thought, there was room for both of them to hide in here.

Chill air rolled down from above—the guard tower, clearly.
Someone up there was snoring.

I forgot how huge everything would be, he thought. Agya must
be terrified.

Surprisingly, his ward seemed only interested. She eyed him
sidelong as he silently moved across the floor to listen at the entry to the
tower passage. Malowan signed that there was only one guard and he was sleeping.

Agya turned to check out the rest of the entry-chamber, and
he came over to help.

An overturned ale keg contributed to the sour smell, but damp
furs and wet wool seemed to account for most of the stench. Agya eyed the
various sacks flung down beneath the rack of pegs and shook her head. Nothing
worth searching.

He tapped her arm to get her attention, then signed,
This
way first.
He set his shoulder against one of the main doors, created a
space just large enough for her to slip through, then followed, easing it
silently shut behind them.

A long, broad corridor led to a vast hall with a high
ceiling, thick wooden pillars, and a low-burning fire. He could see chairs,
benches, piles of cushions, and a huge table on the other side of the fire, but
there was no sign or sound of occupants.

Agya jumped as someone to her left beyond another set of
double doors snored one bellowing snort. The doors remained closed, and the
noise wasn’t repeated.

Deciding that they were safe for the moment, Malowan set his
shoulder against the opposite wall and eased down the long passage. Agya sighed
quietly and drew a dagger as she followed.

The chamber—a feasting hall, clearly—was huge. Fire burned
merrily in a pit at the room’s center, illuminating some things and casting odd
shadows over others. Doors on either side of the room were closed, and there was
no sound to indicate what might be beyond them.

Malowan glanced both ways, then ran light-footed to the west
doors and listened. Agya started toward him, but he shook his head and signed,
Food place. Servants.
Agya nodded and laid a hand over her lips, indicating
she’d be quiet. The paladin smiled, then moved across the chamber to test the
east doors.
Safe,
he finally indicated. Agya clapped both hands over her
mouth and he grinned. “Safe” wasn’t really likely anywhere in the Steading.

He eased one of the doors open so they could slip through. A
somewhat narrower, dark hallway led straight on. Malowan could hear at least two
giants snoring—sleeping off too much bad wine, no doubt. Moments later, they
came to a cross-point. He eased into the open and listened intently, then moved
past a door left partly open. Fire burned sullenly halfway down a long, narrow
chamber that he thought must be part of the outer walls—here the logs were as
thick as he was tall. There was a door at the far end, and he thought he could
sense the cave bear beyond it. Between them and that door, the room was a jumble
of tables, chairs, and benches. All of them were littered with cups, dirty
plates, and platters. Broached kegs were everywhere. The room reeked of sour
wood-fire smoke, unwashed bodies, wet leather, ale, and vomit. Badly preserved
trophy heads lined the wall above the fireplace—he could only hope Agya hadn’t
seen that one of the heads was human. He touched her hand to get her attention
and led the way back into the hall, crossing to check out the door on the
opposite wall.

These were heavily barred. Malowan mouthed a reveal spell,
then led Agya to the left. The hallway bent west here, another pair of doors at
the end. He eased them open, revealing another fireplace—the fire here nearly
burned out—and an almost normal-sized chamber that looked surprisingly neat and
almost businesslike. The table was long and narrow. A chief’s chair sat empty at
one end, smaller chairs flanking it. Shelves near the fireplace held odd items,
and opposite the hearth, a huge hide was stretched on the wall. Malowan gazed at
this, then nodded in satisfaction.
Map,
he signed and moved to study it.

Agya tugged at his sleeve and held out both hands, making
writing motions. He handed over the blank map hide and charcoal stick and left
her to copy the map while he checked the rest of the chamber.

Hides and rugs covered the floor, and tapestries hid most of
the walls. Along the west wall, there was a heavy, stiff skin covering a vast
area. Oddly, the bottom edge was moving as if air currents from behind were at
work. Very odd, since the chamber was rather stuffy. He shoved the hide to one
side, sensitive fingers questing until he found a door. It wasn’t really very
well hidden, except by the hide. Once inside the tiny hidden chamber, he cast a
spell, and the rack of firewood along the far wall lit up like a candle to his
eyes.

Agya came up behind him. Malowan, aware by his last spell
that no one was nearby, tugged at her boy-cut hair and murmured, “We are safe
enough for now. The wood conceals something of value. Help me shift it.”

Agya merely nodded and knelt to begin shifting balks of
firewood. The pile was nearly gone when Malowan’s fingers closed around several
tubes.

“Scroll cases,” he whispered.

She nodded, inclining her head again when he indicated she
should guard both the doors while he checked the tubes for safety.

Eventually he chose two, shoved them into his pack, then
carefully restacked the firewood. “These must be valuable,” he whispered. “Time
for us to hide or get back outside before the next guard change.”

Malowan waved her back into the room to watch and listen
while he resettled the huge hide. “Be very quiet. There are wolves, remember,”
he reminded her.

She nodded, her face pale, and led the way.

But before they had gone two paces, heavy footsteps echoed
through the hall, and a deep bass voice rumbled in counterpart to at least three
yipping wolves. Mal waited, holding his breath. The sounds passed by, and a door
slammed, cutting off all noise.

Malowan gave a white-faced Agya thumbs up and went on. She
drew a dagger and followed.

They retraced their steps and only once had to hide—Malowan
under a pile of sacks, boots, and other rubble on the floor of the cloakroom,
while Agya buried herself under a fur cloak that almost reached the floor. Two
giants came rumbling and cursing down from the tower, one clutching his head
while another grumbled, seemingly cross at having his sleep interrupted for
guard duty in full fog.

Malowan waited an extra three tens of breaths after they had
left, then rolled from under the sacks and drew Agya toward the doors. He eased
one open as quietly as possible and pulled her outside.

Somewhere high above the Steading, day had broken. Down here,
the fog was merely a brighter shade of gray but no less thick. The sides of the
road were barely visible as an occasional tuft of dead grass.

Agya retrieved her tools. Malowan gestured a reminder for
utter silence. She nodded, wide-eyed, and there was only the faintest
snip
as the lock slid into place.

They set out as quickly as they could walk. In this much
haze, they’d be invisible to anyone approaching, and they’d hear anyone long
before they saw them.

A short distance down the road, Malowan drew the girl onto
the scrubby turf and back the way they’d come. To his surprise, Nemis was still
waiting in the tiny dell.

The mage smiled very briefly then led back to the cave.

The rest of the party was awake and finishing a plain
breakfast of corn gruel when the three returned. Nemis sought the packet of dry
herb he sprinkled on everything he ate before filling his shallow bowl. Malowan
settled down next to Vlandar and sent his ward to get breakfast for both of them
while he helped fill in parts of the map.

Lhors was eager to hear what they had discovered, so he sat
himself a few paces away, trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible while he
kept his ears open.

“I would suggest we start an hour earlier tomorrow,” Malowan
said. “There is a guard change at about first hour, and the servants had already
begun work in the kitchens. Still, we discovered a fair amount about the place.”

The paladin had just begun to sketch on the map when Agya
returned with his breakfast. He drank down the rather gluey mixture from its
two-handled bowl while it was still hot.

Agya only sipped at hers and fell asleep before it was half
gone. Malowan caught the wooden bowl as it slipped from her fingers and eased
her down next to him, tucking the woolen cloak around her. He smiled down at her
and then turned back to the map.

Vlandar and the paladin spent the next several minutes going
over various details and debating tomorrow’s plans. Lhors tried to pay
attention, but Mal’s details of twists and turns and doors and this and that
soon began to jumble together in his head. He was beginning to doze off himself
when something piqued his interest.

“…but this chamber,” Malowan was saying, “is where I saw
the map.”

Vlandar drew a blank hide from his pile of mapskins and
handed it over. Malowan closed his eyes briefly then began to sketch in such
details as he recalled.

“It may be a council chamber, and I think the map showed
sites they plan to raid. I do not read their script, unfortunately.” He closed
his eyes again and scribbled several more lines of runic script at the bottom of
the hide. “There. That is everything I remember—for now, at least. With a little
sleep, I might recall more.”

“Go sleep, then,” Vlandar said. “Well done, my friend.”

Malowan shook his head. “There is more, though. Wait.” He
patted his pack. “We also found several scroll cases deeply hidden among the
balks of wood.”