The Giant Among Us (9 page)

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Authors: Troy Denning

BOOK: The Giant Among Us
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“Dekz not here.” Gragg looked away from his companions. “Gragg camp boss. Go catch little fella!”

Bhurn kicked a rock down the slope, then turned to descend the other side of the hill. Meorf stayed long enough to snicker as Gragg jumped up to avoid the stone, then bounded after Bhurn.

Gragg watched the summit for a few moments. When no more stones came bouncing down at him, he found a boulder large enough to support his broad posterior and settled in to wait. Tavis slipped out of his hiding place and crept silently down the hill, keeping his arrow pointed at the giant’s back. He did not like killing in cold blood, but such things were necessary in war-and the ring of campfires encircling Cuthbert Castle left little doubt that the giants had come to make war.

Tavis was about halfway down when Gragg’s roving gaze fell on the open door to Cuthbert’s secret passage.

The giant thrust his head forward, then suddenly rose to his feet.

“Hey, Dekz was right!” he boomed. “Them little fellas gots a secret tunnel! Bhurn, Meorf, come-” Tavis let his arrow fly.

Gragg’s command changed to a deafening shriek as the shaft drilled deep into his kidney. The giant stumbled forward, at the same time reaching behind his back to pluck the arrow from his body. His effort did not succeed, for Bear Driller was no ordinary bow. Tavis’s mentor had shown him how to double-bend the weapon and reinforce it with dragon bone, so that any arrow fired from it struck with the force of a horse-driven lance. The shaft had passed into Gragg’s kidney, fletching and all, and nothing short of healing magic could remove it now.

The scout nocked another arrow and rushed down the slope. Although he would have liked to ask Gragg a few questions, the firbolg’s intention was not to interrogate the injured giant. Kidney wounds were far too painful to allow questioning. Tavis was simply looking for a clean shot that would put Gragg out of his misery.

“Gragg, what all this screamin’ for?”

Tavis ducked behind a boulder, then glanced up to see Meorf standing on the summit.

“Where that secret tunnel?”

Gragg tried to answer, but all that spilled from his mouth was a long wail of agony. The injured giant spotted Tavis crouching behind the boulder and stumbled away, urgentiy gesturing at the scout’s hiding place.

“Tunnel there?” Meorf asked.

Gragg shook his head, then collapsed into the gulch and began to thrash about, mad with pain. Meorf screwed his brutish face into an expression of utter puzzlement, then suddenly dropped into a crouch. He glanced over his shoulder. “Bhurn come-“

Tavis stuck his head up and loosed an arrow. He had a poor angle, so the shaft failed to pierce the giant’s heart and simply buried itself in the rib cage. Meorf raised a hand to the wound, then his jaw went slack with surprise as he felt warm blood on his palm. Tavis nocked another arrow and stepped from behind his boulder. He needed a clean shot more than cover.

“Little fella hurt Meorf!” the giant bellowed.

Meorf raised his club and launched himself down the slope. Tavis barely had time to pull his bowstring back, then his foe was upon him, club raised to strike. The scout loosed his arrow.

A red dot appeared on Meorf’s belly, and his eyes went blank. The club flew from his hands and bounced away, then the giant’s immense bulk started to fall. The scout hurled himself aside, barely reaching the safety of his boulder before the impact of the dead body shook the entire slope.

Tavis wasted no time on self-congratulations, for Bhurn would be coming, and the scout preferred not to give his foe the uphill advantage. He nocked another arrow and sprinted toward the summit, his lungs burning from the exertion of the battle.

As the scout approached the top, he felt the ground shuddering beneath Bhurn’s heavy steps. Even if he did reach the crest first, Tavis realized, there would be no time to put his advantage to good use. When his head reached eye-level with the top of the ridge, he stopped and lay on his belly.

The crown of Bhurn’s pointed head appeared an instant later. Unlike Meorf, he approached carefully and quietly, peering over the crest to see what all the yelling was about Tavis jumped up, his arrow aimed directly at the giant’s huge eyeball.

Bhurn froze instantly. “Not little fella!” he gasped. “Stupid firbolg!”

“I am a firbolg,” Tavis answered.

“Oh, no!” Bhurn’s eyes gleamed silver with recognition. “You Tavis Burdun!”

“That’s right.” Tavis was as famous among giants as he was among humans, though the giants considered him more a dark avenger than a savior. “How did Dekz know about the castle’s secret tunnel?”

The emotion drained from the giant’s face. “Bhurn not tell.” He pinched his eyes shut in fear, then started to raise his club. “Bhurn die honorable.”

“If you wish.” Tavis loosed his arrow.

Bhurn fell in silence, and the scout retreated down the slope. He finished Gragg with a merciful arrow, then began the long climb to close Earl Cuthbert’s secret passage.

 

5
Romance Blossoms

The queen stood at the window of her chamber, on the highest floor of the keep, looking across the lake toward the distant wall of granite and ice that Cuthbert said was Shepherd’s Nightmare. It was almost dusk, and by now Tavis would be among those treacherous peaks, picking his way across boulder fields and snowbanks. At least that was Brianna’s hope, though she had reason to think otherwise.

Shordy after dawn, the queen had spotted a swarm of giants searching the hills near the secret passage exit. Then, later in the day, she had seen them drag three of their fellows to the lakeshore and burn them on a funeral pyre. Clearly, there had been a fight But Brianna had no way to know whether Tavis had survived. That uncertainty had kept her at her window all day.

A knock sounded at her door. Brianna composed herself, then called, “Enter.”

The latch clicked, and the heavy door creaked open. Prince Arlien stepped into the room, still wearing his enchanted armor and borrowed cloak. He paused at the door to take a silver tray from one of Cuthbert’s servants.

“That will be all,” he said.

The young woman bowed and pulled the door shut. The prince walked into the room and placed the tray on the table.

“I thought you might need some sustenance.” Arlien gestured at the tray, which bore a heap of sliced fruit and two steaming mugs of spiced wine. “You’ve been in here a long time.”

Brianna smiled, gathering the strength to be gracious.

Arlien was the last person she wanted to see, but she could hardly afford to offend her only potential ally-not with the giant tribes uniting against Hartsvale.

That’s very considerate,” Brianna said. “But at the moment, I’m not hungry. I’m afraid my stomach feels like a butter churn.”

A sympathetic frown appeared on Arlien’s face. “Worried about your bodyguard?”

At least call him by name, thought Brianna. “I’m afraid so,” she said aloud. “Perhaps tonight we should send out a party to see what happened.”

The prince came and stood beside Brianna at the window. Instead of looking at the distant mountains, however, he fixed his gaze on the lakeshore, where the hill giants were using tree boles and rope to assemble a fleet of primitive rafts.

“I don’t think a spy party would be wise,” Arlien said. “After their losses last night, the hill giants will be doubly alert. Anyone you send is more likely to get killed than to return with news of Tavis.”

Silently, Brianna cursed Arlien for being so logical.

When the queen did not reply, the prince said, “But if it makes you feel better, perhaps it’s worth the chance.”

Brianna shook her head. “I can’t risk the lives of good men to settle my nerves.”

“A wise decision,” Arlien agreed. “But you must keep a clear head. Perhaps you should wear the necklace I gave you. Ice diamonds have a soothing effect on the emotions.”

“At the moment, I have no wish to be soothed.”

“Pardon me for saying so, but your wishes are not of paramount importance.” There was a definite edge to Arlien’s voice. “I can do the military planning for you, but the people in this castle are your subjects. You must provide the leadership.”

Brianna glared down at Arlien. “Are you saying I’ve let them down?”

The prince met her gaze without flinching. “If you spend the day hiding in your chamber, they’ll think you are despairing. They will despair, too,” he said. “If you let that-“

“I know what will happen, Prince.”

“Then you also know you must be cheerful and strong to prevent it,” Arlien insisted. He stepped away from Brianna and ran his gaze over the room. “Where is the necklace?”

Instead of responding, Brianna looked out her window, this time studying the soldiers on the walls below. They were stockpiling boulders next to the catapults, hoisting oil barrels onto the ramparts, soaking wooden roofs with lake water, and performing all the other tasks necessary to prepare a castle for battle. Most seemed grimly absorbed in their duties, but every so often a man would cast an uneasy glance up at the queen. When he returned to work, his shoulders were invariably stooped.

Brianna stepped away from her window. Thank you for having the courage to point out my failure, Prince Arlien,” she said. “But at this time, it would be wrong for me to wear your wonderful necklace. After all, you did tell Tavis you wouldn’t press me for an alliance until he returned.”

“And Tavis told me that we would all do what’s best for our kingdoms,” Arlien reminded her. “But the necklace is a symbol of friendship, not a wedding gift.”

“No matter how you intend it, my subjects would view the necklace as a symbol of betrothal.”

Arlien inclined his head. “I’m sure you know your subjects better than I do.” He went to the table and picked up the steaming mugs, handing one to Brianna. “But even if you don’t need Gilthwit’s ice diamonds, you do need your strength. You’ll find this drink invigorating. It’s a specialty of my land.”

Brianna accepted the cup. “Thank you,” she said. “I could use some fortification before I inspire the troops.”

The queen touched her rim to Arlien’s, then they both drank deeply. The beverage tasted of spices and fruit, with just a hint of honey and wine, and it was every bit as invigorating as the prince had promised. As the libation slid down her throat, a warm, exhilarating sense of well-being spread through her body. At the same time, she realized how famished she was, for she had not eaten all day and felt a little light-headed.

Brianna sat at the table and pulled the tray over. “Perhaps I’d better eat something before I go.”

Arlien sat across from her. “A wise idea,” he said. “As it happens, I wanted to discuss something else with you.”

Brianna slipped an apple wedge into her mouth, then took another long swig from her mug. “As long as you’re not courting me.” She had to stifle an unexpected giggle. “We mustn’t break our promise to my bodyguard.”

Arlien reached across the table to pat her hand. “Oh, we’d never do that,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I bring this up because of something he asked of me.”

Brianna slipped a pear half into her mouth, then raised her mug to her lips again. It seemed the more she ate, the thirstier she grew, and the more she drank, the hungrier she became. The queen took a cherry off the plate and popped it into her mouth. “What did my bodyguard ask?”

Arlien looked at the tabletop. “It has to do with Cuthbert,” he said in a reluctant tone. “Tavis suggested I keep an eye on him, and, frankly, what I’ve seen amazes me. The man’s either a fool or a traitor.”

Brianna stopped short of slipping another apple wedge into her mouth. “I can assure you, he’s neither.”

“Then perhaps you’d care to tell me why he’s positioning the catapults on the ramparts overlooking the lake and putting the ballistae in the gatehouse?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Brianna replied. She slipped the apple wedge into her mouth and chewed, annoyed with both Arlien and her bodyguard for so constantly assailing Cuthbert’s honor. “Perhaps we should go and ask him.”

Arlien was quick to shake his head. “I already have,” he growled. “He uttered some drivel about a collapsing bridge and ballistae missiles being more effective in the water.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Brianna reached for her mug and discovered it was empty, but Arlien quickly pushed his own over to her. “His explanation sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”

“Perhaps, if we couldn’t see the giants building rafts.” Arlien pointed to the window. “But it looks to me like they’re too smart to attack across that bridge.”

“I don’t know if you’ve spent much time with hill giants, but I have,” Brianna replied. They aren’t smart”

“Maybe not, but whoever’s commanding them is,” Arlien countered. “And he’s certainly wise enough to know a competent engineer would trap Cuthbert’s bridge.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Brianna replied. She lifted Arlien’s mug to her lips, but restrained herself to a few sips. It had occurred to her that her sudden show of thirst might seem unladylike to the prince. “What would you do, Prince, and why?”

Arlien rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, fixing his brown eyes on hers. Brianna’s gaze wandered over the prince’s cleft chin, full lips, and patrician nose, and she was surprised to find herself silently thanking the King of Gilthwit for sending a handsome son to court her.

The prince touched his graceful finger to the tabletop and traced a line that roughly paralleled the ramparts facing the hill giants. “I would place the ballistae here, where they command the water approaches,” he said. “And I would soak the missile heads in oil, so that we can set them afire. That will do more to stop the giants’ rafts than hurling boulders at them.”

“And what of the bridge?” Brianna asked. She sipped some more of the prince’s libation.

“I would use the catapults to cover it,” he said. “If the giants are foolish enough to try that approach, the boulders will keep them in the water after the bridge collapses.”

“If that’s what you think, that’s what we’ll do.” Brianna drained Arlien’s mug, then rose to her feet and started toward the door. “Ill go tell the earl.”

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