The Wrath of the Lizard Lord (9 page)

He raised the huge club in his hand and bellowed in an incoherent language. Suddenly more of the giants appeared, all clad in furs and skins, all carrying spears and clubs, all looking menacingly at Dakkar. The giants closed in on them.

‘I don’t think we’ll be getting back to Lyme for some time yet,’ Dakkar said.

Chapter Thirteen

Gog

The giant glanced around at the lumps of flesh scattered on the ground and the two legs standing at the base of the tree.

‘Saranda!’ He grunted, shaking his club at the smouldering ruin of the lizard. ‘Ung!’

‘What’s he sayin’?’ Mary said, her voice quavering. ‘He sounds angry.’

‘I don’t know, do I?’ Dakkar snapped back. He gave a bow to the giant and pointed at the lizard. ‘Saranda!’ he said, copying the giant.

The big man frowned and tilted his head to one side then stepped forward, jabbing a huge, stubby finger into Dakkar’s chest. Dakkar gave a gasp and fell on to his backside.

‘You,’ he said. ‘Kill Saranda?’ He stabbed his finger at the lizard, a look of bewilderment on his face.

Dakkar stared up at the giant that loomed over him. ‘Y-yes,’ he stammered. ‘I killed Saranda.’

The giant narrowed his eyes, jutting his big chin forward. Dakkar could see his crooked brown teeth poking over his cracked lips.

‘Rarrgh!’ the giant shouted. He said something else and the gigantic group pounced on Dakkar and Mary. A thick net made of vines dropped over them both. With the pull of a rope, it tightened round them, dragging them off their feet.

Rough hands grabbed and bundled them up, still in the net. Two poles slid through the net holes above them and they found themselves suspended, carried by four of the huge men.

‘I think you said the wrong thing,’ Mary whispered.

Dakkar kept quiet, watching the party of savage giants behind him picking up lumps of the charred lizard and stuffing them into sacks made of hide.

The jungle slid past as the party carried Dakkar and Mary along. Large, glossy green leaves, vines dotted with flowers and fruit, and scrubby, thorny bushes all scraped by as the giants moved with surprisingly little noise.

‘Can you move your elbow just a little?’ Dakkar whispered to Mary. ‘It’s digging right into my back.’

‘No, I can’t,’ Mary hissed back, wriggling to illustrate how cramped she was.

‘Where are they taking us?’ Dakkar said, trying to arch his back to escape Mary’s sharp elbow.

‘To their camp, I reckon,’ Mary said. ‘I ’aven’t a clue where we are now, though.’

The jungle grew thicker and Dakkar lost all track of time. A deep growl in the depths of the forest made the party freeze. The biggest giant peered into the press of trees and muttered something, readying his club.

Silence fell over them. Dakkar held his breath, trying to see what the giant could see, but darkness and shadows swirled between the tree trunks.

Then Mary gave a scream as a huge head thrust out from the gloom, snapping its teeth, its yellow eyes shining. Dakkar’s heart pounded. Trapped in the net, they were helpless. What if the giants just dropped them and ran? The chief giant skipped back, raising his club and then pounding it down. The night echoed with a sickening crack and the lizard crunched to the ground, dead.

They hurried on, not pausing to inspect the fallen monster. Dakkar looked back and saw that something squatted, already tearing at the carcass of the animal.
This is a deadly land
, he thought.
Everything is trying to eat everything else!

As they journeyed on, Dakkar scanned the shadows of the jungle closely. He shivered, thinking that something could jump out at any second. They stopped several times on hearing growls or something thrashing about in the undergrowth nearby.

Finally, the trees and bushes thinned and Dakkar smelt woodsmoke. They entered a large clearing, dotted with huge huts made of mud and leaves. Fires burned between the huts and Dakkar could see more giants – women and children – tending to the fires. They looked like slighter and smaller versions of the men who had captured them. Their brows were low and heavy, their noses large. Wiry hair sprang from their huge heads and hung about their fur-covered shoulders.

A crowd gathered around Mary and Dakkar. A confusion of curious faces, poking fingers and grunts made Dakkar flinch.

The men carrying the net dumped it on the ground, spilling Dakkar and Mary out. For a moment, Dakkar thought they would be trampled by the onlookers. He curled into a ball, covering his head.

The giants dragged Dakkar to his feet and, with Mary at his side, he found himself propelled across the clearing to a huge throne by a roaring fire. The chief giant sat on the massive chair, glaring at them.

‘I Gog, Chief of Gulina People,’ he said, raising his chin. He pointed at Dakkar. ‘Who?’

Dakkar gave a short bow. ‘My name is Prince Dakkar of Bundelkhand,’ he said. ‘This is Mary Anning of Lyme Regis. We mean you no harm.’

‘I can speak for myself, you know,’ Mary hissed.

‘You stone girl,’ Gog said, pointing at Mary. ‘We watch
.
.
. many days
.
.
. you collect stones. Why?’

‘I sell them,’ Mary said. ‘Up there.’ She pointed to the clouds that swirled and crackled above their heads.

‘Sell?’ Gog looked confused. ‘Sky?’

‘Our people,’ Dakkar said. ‘They live up there.’

‘
Praya vasadi agaza
!
’ Gog announced in a loud voice to the crowd that surrounded them. Laughter rippled across the clearing but Gog’s smile dropped. ‘You lie,’ he said, banging his fist on the arm of the chair. His eyes darkened and Dakkar thought he saw pain in them. ‘All small ones lie.
Lagu gara
!
’

At the last words, three giants sprang up and grabbed Dakkar and Mary. Dakkar struggled but the iron grip on his arms did not break. The guards dragged them to a hut and threw them inside. Dakkar ran at the door but it slammed shut in his face, sending him sprawling back on the dirt floor.

‘Well, this ain’t so good,’ Mary muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

Dakkar scanned the room. The hut was circular and very bare apart from a pile of animal skins that lay in a heap, forming a rough bed. He pressed his palms against the walls. They were solid and thick, offering no chance of escape.

‘It looks like we’re prisoners,’ Dakkar said, examining the door. ‘Unless I can cut through the reeds that bind the planks of this door.’

‘That shouldn’t be ’ard,’ Mary said. ‘’Ave you got a knife?’

Dakkar rummaged in his pockets and found a small penknife. He paused. ‘The only trouble is,’ he said, pressing a hand on the door, ‘what do we do if we get free?’

‘Go home of course!’ Mary said, her eyes wide.

‘Do you know the way?’ Dakkar said, arching his eyebrows at her. ‘And would we survive that deadly jungle if we did find the right route back?’

‘You’re right, I suppose,’ Mary said, pouting her bottom lip. ‘What d’you suggest, then?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Dakkar said. ‘Maybe we can persuade Gog that we aren’t a threat. He might let us go.’

‘’E didn’t seem too fond of us “small ones”, as he put it!’ Mary said. ‘Perhaps we could tell ’im that we’ve buried some treasure back where ’e found us.’

‘I don’t think he’s that interested in treasure,’ Dakkar said. ‘Besides, think what he might do once he realised it was a lie.’

‘Well, I’m not ’angin’ around ’ere to be eaten – or worse – just cos you can’t think of a plan,’ Mary said, snatching the knife out of his hands. She began sawing at the dry reeds that bound the door together.

‘Wait!’ Dakkar said, leaping forward. ‘Look!’

A pair of dark, gentle eyes peered through the gaps between the planks of the door. They were smaller and younger than Gog’s or the other giants.’

‘A youngster!’ Mary said, poking a finger through the gap. ‘Hello, littl’un. What’s your name?’

‘Careful,’ Dakkar whispered. ‘It may bite.’

‘It’s a boy, I reckon, and only a baby,’ Mary said, laughing as the young giant hooked a finger round hers. ‘’E don’t mean any ’arm.’

Mary pulled her finger back and the baby giant gave a snort and a giggle. Dakkar pressed his eye to another gap. The child sat outside the door, a small replica of its parents but still equal in height to Dakkar or Mary. His long, matted hair covered his shoulders and his fur wrappings hung a bit looser. He looked up at Dakkar and gave a gap-toothed grin. Dakkar couldn’t help but smile back.

Dakkar scanned across the clearing. ‘So many women and children,’ he said. ‘Where are all the men?’

‘Huntin’, perhaps?’ Mary suggested, reaching out and tickling the baby’s palm.

‘How long have we been here?’ Dakkar asked, glancing at the cloudy sky. ‘Shouldn’t it be dark by now?’

‘We’re underground,’ Mary said simply. ‘And it never goes dark.’

‘But where does the light come from?’ Dakkar said. ‘How can there be a sky with clouds in it?’

‘There’s no sky,’ Mary said. ‘Look. It’s just a solid bank of cloud. I reckon it’s a gas of some kind.’

‘A gas that glows?’ Dakkar said, curious.

‘I once saw a gentleman make an explosion usin’ gas and a flame,’ Mary said, her eyes wide. ‘He was a nat­­ural philosopher. I took ’im some of my petrified shells and he showed me his workshop. Nearly blew it up, ’e did!’

‘Explosions I can understand,’ Dakkar muttered. ‘They’re common in mines where underground gas builds up, but to be constantly combusting like this? Amazing!’

‘Do you think
.
.
.’ Mary began to say but something stopped her. The child had turned to look behind him and gripped her finger tightly. ‘What’s up, fella?’

Gunfire crackled from the forest and Mary cried out as the child scurried away, wrenching her finger.

Dakkar stared out as giants scurried this way and that. Screams filled the air. More gunshots rang out and Dakkar watched in horror as figures began to fall to the earth.

‘They’re killing everyone!’ he gasped. ‘Quickly – give me that knife.’

With trembling hands he sawed at the door’s thick reeds, which seemed to be tough as iron. More gunfire echoed and then a deep hissing roar made Dakkar pause and stare out between the boards.

In the clearing stood a lizard, a biped, smaller than the one that had chased them up the tree. It pinned a wounded giant down with one powerful leg and sank its teeth into the poor man’s neck. Dakkar stared in horror – the lizard was harnessed and bridled like a horse, and a man sat on its back, wearing the black uniform of Count Cryptos.

Chapter Fourteen

Cold Fury

Dakkar slashed at the door’s bindings with trembling hands, pausing to rattle at the planks now and then in the vain hope that they had come apart.

‘What’re you playin’ at?’ Mary said. ‘There’s shootin’ goin’ on out there!’

‘Those men are evil,’ Dakkar spat. ‘They’re slaughtering Gog’s people. We’ve got to stop them.’

‘Stop them?’ Mary said faintly.

‘At last!’ Dakkar hissed as the reeds finally snapped and the door sagged on one hinge. He gripped it and threw his weight backward, tearing the door out of its frame.

The scene outside horrified him. Giant bodies lay strewn around the camp. Fires smoked in the rush roofs of the huts. Dakkar swallowed hard and blinked back the stinging sensation in his eyes. Anger boiled up inside him.

Scanning around, he counted six mounted Cryptos guards harrying a circle of giants that strove to protect the remaining children. He noticed that the women had grabbed spears and clubs too. One Cryptos guard lay crushed under his lizard, obviously a victim of Gog’s mighty club. Another lay further away, nearer the scrum, a huge spear pinning him to the ground.

‘Dakkar, you can’t!’ Mary shouted behind him. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘I’ll not stand by and watch women and children being murdered,’ he snapped, running over to the fallen guard.

Dakkar squatted down, snatching the rifle from the dead man’s hands. He pulled the pistol from his belt and grabbed the powder horn. Then he backed into the hut, dragging Mary with him.

‘Load this,’ he said, pushing the pistol into her hands. ‘If any guards come in here, shoot them.’

Once he’d loaded his rifle, he ran out into the clearing again. The Cryptos guards were occupied with attacking the giants and wouldn’t expect an attack from behind. Even in the short time it had taken Dakkar to load the rifle, two more giants had fallen. He needed to use the element of surprise to fullest effect.

Glancing down, he saw that the other fallen guard’s rifle lay primed and ready on the ground. The dead man held a round metal ball in his hand.
A grenade!

Six guards
, Dakkar thought, grabbing the grenade.
Two rifles and this. I’ll have to shoot well!

He straightened the fuse on the grenade and poked it into the fire that smouldered nearby. The fuse spat and flicked into life. Dakkar’s heart pounded as he waited. If he threw it too soon, the men might have time to kick it away or rip out the fuse. If he waited too long, it would explode as he threw it, maiming or killing him. The spark ate through the black fuse. As it reached halfway, Dakkar threw the grenade as hard as he could.