Against the Giants (32 page)

Vlandar sent Rowan and Lhors out ahead, getting Malowan to
test north and west while Nemis used yet another of what Lhors thought must be
an endless supply of reveal danger spells on the south cave. At least you do not
need to understand magic for it to protect you, he told himself as he followed
Rowan along the south wall.

The ranger stopped abruptly and held up a hand for silence.
Lhors listened. He could hear nothing out of the ordinary. There was just enough
whine of moving wind through openings in the stone high above to make everything
sound like a stealthy enemy to him. The ranger drew him close and sent her eyes
into the passage where it bulged wide and turned south.

He could see them all at once. Guards surrounded three
giantesses.

Rowan signed urgently, and Lhors backed away. As soon as they
were out of sight, they both turned and ran.
Guards!
Lhors signed to the
others. It was all he could recall at the moment.

It was enough. Vlandar got everyone around the back of a tall
ledge and into gloom just as three fur-clad giantesses sauntered up the hall.
Several ogre servants and a pair of armed giant guards loped just behind them.

The company held their breath, except Florimund, who seemed
to be fighting a sneeze. Nemis dove into his belt for something and moved his
hands. The wounded half-elf’s jaw went slack and his eyes shut as he sagged at
the knees. Maera clutched him in dismay as the giantesses and their servants
wandered by. They turned right at the bend and kept going out into the entry.
Lhors could hear the stone shift gratingly, and then they were gone.

“What is wrong with Florimund?” Maera breathed.

“I sent him to sleep,” the mage replied, “in a way. If he’d
sneezed just now—”

“What do you mean,
in a way?”
the ranger demanded.

“He’ll follow where you lead him, but he won’t be aware,”
Nemis replied. “He won’t speak or cry out—and he won’t feel pain, as he clearly
has all the way here.”

Maera gave him a scorching look before she turned away to
help the blank-faced Florimund to his feet.

Vlandar looked around. “We should—Mal, what is it?”

He broke off as the paladin came up to him. In the faint
light, the man’s face was grim. “There is another ledge to our west, and a
prisoner is locked away beyond it. I sense fear and hatred of frost giants, and
pain.”

“An ally?” Vlandar murmured as he tugged his cloak closer. He
gave Maera and Florimund a glance. “Or just another… ?” He let the statement
go unfinished.

“I cannot say. If not an ally, we can bespell it and leave.
If an ally, though…” The paladin let the thought hang.

Vlandar nodded—reluctantly, Lhors thought. He gestured for
Malowan to lead on.

“I will wait here with my cousin,” Maera said stiffly. “To
keep watch.”

“Watch south,” Rowan told her. “I will tend to the east.”

Malowan was already gone the way he’d come, Agya on his
heels.

Nemis met Vlandar’s eyes. “I will stay as well,” he said
quietly. “There may be things here we cannot see.”

The warrior gestured assent and put Lhors in front of him. He
motioned for the others to follow. Lhors glanced back at Maera, who knelt next
to her sleeping companion. Why does Vlandar not seem to trust her, all of a
sudden? he wondered. He had seen the same lack of trust in his father toward
certain village boys who’d once hunted with them—but they weren’t just after
meat for a village here. If Vlandar really was worried about Florimund or Maera,
wouldn’t he just get Nemis to send them away? Perhaps Nemis couldn’t do that, or
maybe something else was going on.

Another massive boulder blocked part of the west wall. It
took Khlened, Bleryn, and Vlandar to shift it far enough for them to enter the
chamber beyond. Vlandar left Bleryn and Gerikh at the opening and let Malowan
lead the way in.

The chamber was poorly lit and sparely furnished. A huge
pallet with massive chains was bolted to the wall at head and foot, and a giant
three times Malowan’s size lay fettered to the bed. Just out of the giant’s
reach, a low table held an ewer and some bits of bread and bone. Malowan was
already next to the bed, speaking quickly and urgently to the prisoner in
Giantish. Agya was glaring at the little table, and Lhors’ nose wrinkled as he
came close enough for his own chilled nose to work. The pitcher held
swampy-smelling water. The bread crust was white and the rest pale greenish. The
bone was huge but bare of meat, and he could see where it had been gnawed.

He blinked as the prisoner answered Malowan. The voice was
deep, but not masculine-deep. What could one of their females do to deserve
this? Lhors wondered. He backed away. The pallet smelled dreadful, and the sheer
size of the creature frightened him, even bound as she was.

He turned away to find Khlened staring open-mouthed at
another table. Two massive chairs flanked a table covered in fine cloth and
golden plates. The food there looked and even smelled as if a proper cook had
prepared it. Two goblets with stems as thick as his spear held dark wine. A few
gems and coins spilled from a leather bag, and Lhors assumed this was what the
Fist stared at so avidly.

“Smells good,” the barbarian muttered.

“Don’t eat
any
meat you find in a frost giant’s hold!”
Vlandar hissed.

Lhors backed away hastily, and Khlened looked slightly sick.

“Yes,” Vlandar added with a faint smile. “It smells good to
me, too. It may be no more than what it seems: stolen beef roasted plain over a
fire.”

Malowan gestured then, drawing them close so he could
translate. Lhors listened from where he was, eyes searching the chamber and
glancing out into darkness, now and again. “She is Nghora, a storm giantess from
a distant hold. The Jarl took her prisoner some time ago, believing she would
willingly become his mistress. She refused the ‘honor’, and so he had her put
here. Now and again he has her beaten, but mostly he leaves her like this: cold,
hungry, and unable to reach proper food and drink, though she can see all that
will be hers, if she submits to him. She loathes the Jarl, but I can tell she is
distrustful of all males.”

“Why?” Khlened scowled. “Humans didn’t put ’er here, nor
dwarves.”

“Her father is a drunkard, and because of that his household
guards are lax. The Jarl knew it and took advantage of that when he took her
prisoner,” Malowan explained. “He had asked for her first, but she had already
taken vows as a virgin priestess. The Jarl is grotesque, she says, but even if
he had been handsome and kindly and not already wed, she wanted no mate, nothing
but the right to serve her goddess.”

Agya nodded. “Weird t’me too, barbarian, but a thief I knew
went t’serve… Zodal. Had somethin’ t’do with peace and hope or some
such-like. She tol’ me she ’ad to swear not t’let any man touch ’er or look at
’er face, an’ she was ’appy t’do it too.”

The girl seemed baffled by this, Lhors thought. On
reflection, he wasn’t sure if
he
could make sense of such a thing.

“These things happen to some people,” Malowan said dryly.
“Nghora says she has been a guest here, now and again since childhood. I think I
can persuade her to guide us.”

Vlandar nodded. “Could be. But what of all this show of
wealth here?”

“To be hers, if she submits. She wants none of it and says it
is ours if we will free her.”

“I say aye, then.” The barbarian turned away and began to
sort through the goods on the table, setting aside loose gems and coin and
ignoring the heavier plate. Agya came over to help him. Lhors moved nearer the
doorway as Malowan bent over the bound giantess and loosed her fetters with some
spell.

The giantess said something, her voice husky. As she stood,
Lhors noticed for the first time that her skin had a greenish tint to it. Tall
as the paladin was, his head barely came past her knee. Lhors swallowed past a
dry throat and looked away.

“She does not know any of the things we’re seeking,” Malowan
told them. “She does know where the Jarl’s most valued possessions are stored,
however. And we need to go now. There are guards, two giants who patrol with a
chained yeti, who come here once a day to check on her, and they are due before
much longer. She also says the Jarl keeps wolves in the room where he and his
lady sleep. It is some distance from here, and there are several guard-posts
between. She will point them out in exchange for her freedom.”

“Done,” Vlandar said tersely. “All of you stay alert.”

He led the way back into the main passage, collected Nemis,
the rangers, and dazed-looking Florimund, then eased along the west wall that
bowed into a deep bay. Lhors could no longer see down the vast south chamber,
but that also meant no guards down there could see him.

Agya had moved stealthily ahead, and she suddenly held up a
hand for the others to wait, then turned to beckon Nemis to her side. The mage
murmured a spell and held up four fingers. Khlened started to draw his newly won
sword, but Vlandar shook his head and drew Nemis aside so the two could talk.
The mage brought Maera and Rowan over and ran an odd-shaped piece of metal up
and down the shafts of several arrows and three of Maera’s javelins. The rangers
took them back and slipped around the point.

Lhors held his breath, listening intently, but almost at once
the two were back. Maera went straight back to Florimund, but Rowan hesitated
with Vlandar long enough to hold up four fingers before slashing them across her
throat. The warrior nodded grimly.

The youth’s eyebrows went up. Four dead, and he hadn’t heard
a thing.

Malowan had left the giantess with Agya—oddly, to Lhors’
thinking, the two seemed fairly comfortable with each other, though the huge
female drew back even from him. The paladin, who had moved across the chamber,
now came back, his face pale.

“Vlandar, the kitchens are there, and there are prisoners—
human
ones.”

“Hah,” Khlened snarled under his breath. “Lunch, more like.
Poor brutes.”

“No,” the paladin said flatly. “I will not leave them there
to die like a peasant’s lamb. I dare not. Vlandar, leave me Agya. We will do
what we must and catch up with you.”

“We stay together,” the warrior said tersely. He held up a
hand for silence as Nghora came up.

She didn’t seem as tottery as she had earlier, Lhors thought,
but neither Vlandar nor Mal looked worried. Vlandar asked the paladin to talk to
her.

“The chamber beyond this is open, with the Jarl’s throne at
the south end. She says there are guards under cover of the dais, always on
alert, and halfway down we will be able to see guards on the ledges above the
main floor. However, not far from the entrance, there are stairs along either
side leading up these ledges.”

“Then we need a diversion,” Vlandar said. “Khlened. You and
Bleryn, how’d you like to strut down there like you owned the place? I’ll send
Nemis or Mal to shield you. You distract the guards, and while they’re watching
you, we’ll be able to dispatch them without alerting the guards behind the
dais.”

“The kitchen is making a racket,” Malowan said, “that will
help us.”

“Good. Rowan, Maera, you’ll be the best at getting up the
stairways unnoticed. Agya and Lhors, you’re backup, one to each of the rangers.
Nemis, do you have enough of your beneath notice spells to use one here, if I
send you ahead with Khlened?”

The mage merely nodded.

“Gerikh, you’ll stick with me and lead Florimund for Maera.
And, Mal, if Nghora… ?”

The paladin had been talking to the giantess quietly for some
moments, Lhors realized.

“She wants to go instead, Khlened,” Malowan said, and he
sounded surprised. “She says, tell the red man if she walks out there, the
guards will see nothing else.”

“Yer mad and so’s she,” the barbarian said, a wary eye on the
female who towered above him. She seemed to shrink back as he met her eyes. He
sighed. “Ah, could be she’s right. Let’s be at it.”

“Right.” Vlandar nodded. “Khlened, you and Bleryn stand watch
here and be ready to come to our aid if the guards under the dais come up behind
us.”

The two companions looked none too happy about being left out
of the immediate action, but they both readied their weapons and obeyed.

As they entered the room, Rowan pointed out the stone
stairs—a native-looking flow of rock down each wall and high on each side. At
the end of each stair was a rocky ledge tall enough to hide a guard.

Some distance ahead, Nghora strutted down the length of the
fall. She might never have been a terrified, weak prisoner, Lhors thought. He
glanced at Agya, who seemed to have the same uncomfortable thought.

The massive female squared her shoulders and tossed a thick
mass of hair over her shoulder as she strode forward. Nemis’ hands were moving
rapidly as he worked some spell or other. The giantess walked on, unchallenged.

Near the entrance, the rangers separated so they could work
up both ledges. Malowan pressed hard against the west wall, his lips moving
soundlessly, though with the clatter and shouting that echoed from the opening
to the kitchen just behind them, he could have spoken his spell aloud and not
been heard.

Agya had gone to join Malowan, and they were behind Maera.
Lhors was grateful when Vlandar beckoned him to the east wall, even though the
stairs were uncomfortably near the kitchen. He felt more comfortable around
Rowan.

He froze as he heard the twang of a massive bowstring above
the kitchen noise. That couldn’t have been Rowan’s bow.

He felt more than heard something fall to the floor. Looking
to the middle of the chamber, he saw Nghora stagger to her knees. As Lhors and
the others watched helplessly, she collapsed facedown, a gigantic spear
protruding from her back. Lhors clapped both hands across his mouth and stared.
Vlandar tugged at his shirt and drew him quickly up the stairs.