Giant thief

CHAPTER 24

"It wasn't your fault."

Saltlick didn't seem to hear me.

"You wanted to save him. In the end… well, I don't think a man like Moaradrid could understand that."

"Stone gone."

So that was what was bothering him? Not Moaradrid's plunge into the abyss but the loss of the chief-stone he'd taken with him. No, I'd heard how Saltlick had bellowed when he realised the warlord wouldn't let himself be saved. I recognised that tortured glint in his eye.

But now there was something else there as well, something I hadn't seen before. It was present too in the way he moved, and in a new set to his features. I couldn't begin to guess what was going through his mind.

I glanced nervously to the far side of the chasm, where a minute ago Moaradrid's men had been waiting, poised to intervene. They were gone. Apparently, avenging their master's death wasn't a higher priority than saving their own skins.

Would the rest of his army flee too, back into the distant North? We could only hope.

I turned my attention to Estrada and Alvantes. Alvantes's face was ashen and waxy, and his eyelids flickered constantly, as though even staying conscious was a struggle.

"We should get him inside," I said, "and see if we can tend that wound."

That brought Saltlick out of his stupor. "Help Alvantes," he rumbled.

He stomped over, and went to lift Alvantes from where he sat.

"Careful!" I squatted in front of them and asked Estrada, "Do you think he can walk?"

Alvantes glared at me. "I can walk."

He stumbled to his feet, and would have fallen as quickly if Estrada hadn't slipped her shoulder beneath his outstretched arm. Alvantes grunted with pain and resignation, and sagged against her. I moved quickly to support him on the other side.

In that manner we reeled along behind Saltlick, who'd gone ahead to call for the gate to be reopened. Fortunately, a number of the giantesses had followed behind us, and had been waiting in a crowd on the far side of the palisade. There followed a brief discussion, with Saltlick translating and much gesturing on all parts, as to the best way of getting Alvantes somewhere where his injuries could be treated. In the end, Estrada and I donated our cloaks to form a makeshift stretcher, which four giantesses took up. All together, we trudged down the bank and through the tree line.

A minute later, the giantesses indicated that we should separate, pointing Estrada and I to one of the banner-walled "rooms" while the rest trudged on with Alvantes.

"Hey," I cried, suddenly alarmed. Did they know what they were doing? What if giant anatomy was radically different from ours?

They only clucked at me and kept going.

"Heal well." Saltlick spoke with such certainty that I couldn't doubt him. Without Alvantes to worry about, my thoughts turned to myself. I couldn't quite persuade my mind or body to believe it was all over. My legs ached with the need to keep moving, as though they'd forgotten how to be still. My mind was in turmoil, images and sensations popping like sparks behind my eyes. I felt violently tired and fiercely awake. I flopped onto the grass and lay back, propped with my arms behind me.

"We won."

The words sounded hollow. Moaradrid was dead, a sorry and stupid death. His armies still squatted throughout the land. The giant-stone was lost, the giants split over the length of the Castoval.

Still. We had won. I tried hard to feel glad of the fact.

Saltlick sat beside me. One glance told me he was going through much the same internal struggles as I was. That change I'd noticed before remained, though, and I thought I recognised it now. If he was distraught, he nevertheless seemed stronger than before, more sure of himself. Perhaps his ever-sobrief spell as chieftain had given him a little self-insight; perhaps he approved of what he'd discovered.

Saltlick's mother had stayed behind with a couple of the other giantesses. They busied about, bringing first buckets of water and then fresh fruit and vegetables from the wilderness nearby. I was glad of the water, but the thought of food turned my stomach — until I tried some.

Everything was delicious beyond my wildest imagining. I knew I hadn't eaten in well over a day, and that probably accounted for why it was so good now, but all I really cared about was the pleasure of cramming food into my gullet. I ate until I couldn't manage any more. Then I lay back and closed my eyes. A giantess draped a blanket over me, and raised my head to tuck beneath it something soft and yielding.

I smiled, too drained to express my gratitude in any other way, and hoped they'd understand.

It was still light when I woke. I looked around, to discover that Estrada was kneeling beside me. Behind her, the giantesses had lowered the banners almost to the ground, creating a little privacy more suited to our scale.

"Good afternoon," I said.

"Actually it's early morning. You slept all day and night."

"Did I? I feel like I could do with a few more hours."

"Well, the giants say you can stay as long as you like. But Alvantes and I are starting back in a few minutes. I came to ask if you wanted to join us, or to say goodbye if you didn't."

"What about Saltlick?"

"He's said he wants to talk to us all."

I threw off my blanket. "If Saltlick has a speech planned I want to be there for it. At the very least it should be a masterpiece of brevity."

Estrada smiled. "He's been acting strangely. Well, not strange exactly…"

"Determined?"

"Yes. That's it."

"I noticed that." I climbed to my feet, and stretched until I felt as though my joints would pop. "He would have been a good chief, wouldn't he? I was so convinced he was just an oversized dolt."

"You know what I liked most about being mayor?" asked Estrada, drawing a flap in the wall-banner aside. "The way that when it came to it — when what needed doing seemed too hard, when I thought I was asking far too much of them — people always surprised me."

I nodded. "I can see how that might appeal."

Estrada motioned through the gap. "Shall we see what he has to say?"

She led the way, and a minute later we were once more within view of the gate. There were giants everywhere, in a loose crowd up the embankment. At the base of the slope, keeping well apart from the press, stood Alvantes. His foreshortened arm was strapped with bandages of coarse, green-tinged fabric, and he was supporting himself against a crutch tucked beneath the other shoulder. His face had been carefully cleaned, revealing countless small abrasions over a background of blackening bruises. For all that, he looked far better than when I'd seen him last.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement as we drew close. "They're arguing about something," he said, "but I'll be damned if I can tell what."

Saltlick was standing at the cusp of the bank with a dozen giantesses close around him, amongst them his mother. They were all speaking together, though it was clear that Saltlick was directing the conversation. That was new in itself. As Alvantes had pointed out, there was a definite sense of discord in the air, and Saltlick's mother seemed particularly agitated.

"Is everything all right?" Estrada asked.

Saltlick nodded. "Told them, tell you. Go find brothers. Bring home. No more fight."

His mother moved nearer and clutched his arm imploringly.

Not looking quite at her or away, he added, "Mother sad. Son come, son go. But must do."

"What about the chief-stone? Do you think they'll follow you back here without it?"

Saltlick's expression told me she'd struck a nerve. "Have to," he said flatly. "Only way."

Poor Saltlick. He'd come home only to leave again almost straight away. Well, at least he had come home. Anyway, I'd made up my own mind. "I'm coming with you. I mean, maybe not to rescue your friends, but some of the way anyway."

And so we said our goodbyes. What for Estrada, Alvantes and I was merely awkward, given the lack of any shared language, was clearly heartrending for Saltlick. I only really understood then that the giantesses had thought their kidnapped men-folk dead, and what a miracle it had been when he returned. His mother wept floods of tears, as did many of the others. There was much embracing and reassurances back and forth. Saltlick stood like a monolith amidst all that wild and giant-sized emotion: I knew he was trying to reassure them, though I couldn't understand the words. In the end, he gave his mother a last hug and walked to join us where we were waiting just outside the gate.

"Ready?" Estrada asked.

"Ready," he agreed.

It was much easier going down than it had been coming up.

We took our time though, however much Saltlick must have wanted to hurry, and took frequent breaks for Alvantes to rest. Late in the afternoon we reached the crevasse that marked a rough halfway point to the valley floor. I whooped with joy to see our horses still there — I'd had dreadful visions of them plunging off the cliff side.

I was hurt, though, that Killer seemed more pleased to see Alvantes than me. He whinnied dementedly until Saltlick produced a small bale of dry grass from one of the parcels he'd carried with him and split it between the two of them. At that, all thoughts of reunion were forgotten. Once they'd eaten, we watered them from our flasks and brushed them down as well as we could.

It was almost dark by then, and we had no choice but to make camp. I lay awake for a long time, despite my tiredness, staring up between the lips of rock at the sliver of sky above and at the myriad stars that glimmered there. I felt smaller than I ever had in my life, and the world seemed bewilderingly huge — larger than just the Castoval, or even the kingdom.

I thought about what I'd told Estrada in the caves behind Muena Palaiya: "I'm a large part of a picture only slightly bigger than I am." Had it really only been a few days ago? It seemed as though a lifetime separated me from the Easie Damasco who'd so casually said those words. I listened to Saltlick and Killer battling to out-snore each other. I drifted to sleep with the mingled scent of giant and horse in my nostrils, and didn't resent it one bit.

We woke before dawn, cold and stiff, and were glad to make an early start. We travelled in convoy, Saltlick first, then Alvantes, myself, and Estrada. Alvantes bore his injury stoically, though more than once I noticed him try to do something that required two hands and flinch with realisation.

Since he had to rely on his crutch on the loose ground, he grudgingly allowed me to lead Killer. I tried to reassure the horse with more realistic promises this time: "If your master there lets me, I'm going to take you to an inn and feed you like a king, you mad old mule."

He seemed to appreciate my candour.

With a bright sun above and no one pursuing behind, it was actually quite pleasant to trudge down the uneven path. I felt almost wistful when the end of the cliff trail loomed into view. I tried not to think about the carnage we'd have to pass on the road: the familiar faces frozen and lifeless, the reek of two-dayold death. I focused on that inn I'd promised Killer, on wine, good food, a night in a proper bed.

Whatever I was looking forward to, it wasn't an ambush.

One moment we were trudging down the last stretch of broken path. The next armed men surrounded us on all sides. The two ahead held swords outstretched. The dozen on the rocks to either side aimed taut-strung bows. There was no time to react, nowhere to run. They had us at their mercy.

"Gueverro?"

Alvantes hobbled forward, and seeing him, the leftmost swordsman lowered his blade. I recognised him as the leader of the Altapasaedan guardsmen whose intervention had saved us from Moaradrid.

"Guard-Captain?"

Alvantes's face cracked, just for a moment. All of the cold arrogance, the world-weariness, the stubborn nobility slewed away, leaving nothing but joy. "I thought you'd be dead to a man."

Gueverro grinned crookedly. "Moaradrid's troops gave up and ran. They'd have beaten us eventually, but we'd shown them what it would cost. With Moaradrid gone, their hearts weren't in it."

"Then why are you still here?"

"We waited to see if you'd come back. A party of riders came down in the night and managed to fight their way through. We thought Moaradrid must have been with them, but there was still a chance…"

"Moaradrid's dead."

Gueverro nodded wearily. "Well, that's good news. The man was poison. It isn't done, though, is it? His army's still spread through the Castoval."

"Tomorrow we'll worry about Moaradrid's army," said Alvantes. "Just for tonight, it's done."

Barely a hundred men had survived that battle three long days ago. Perhaps half were Altapasaedan guardsmen, the remainder from the bedraggled force Estrada had brought together. They'd built a crude camp near the river, sheltered by stands of silver birch, and besides waiting to see if anyone came down from the mountain they'd mainly passed their time recuperating.

There was good hunting in the woods on the other bank, so at least no one had gone hungry. We dined that night on freshly shot venison bolstered with fresh fruit and the remainder of our own supplies. We talked about nothing of consequence. True to Alvantes's word, no one so much as considered out loud tomorrow.

We lay out once more beneath an open sky, and again I found that I had little desire for sleep. A hundred questions darted through my mind, and seemed to dance in time with the shimmering lights above. I felt as if I'd come to the end of something. Now the future lay before me, enormous and vague.

In the morning, Alvantes gave a brief speech to his ragtag army. He thanked them for their courage, their steadfastness in the face of hopeless odds. Those that wanted to go home could, without question. Those who had no families to go back to or wanted to serve the Castoval yet further were welcome to stay with him. He was heading back to Altapasaeda to see how things stood.

A couple of men took him at his word, and left — but only a couple.

Alvantes joined Estrada, Saltlick and I.

"What then?" Estrada asked.

"I'll see. If the dregs of Moaradrid's army are in Altapasaeda then perhaps we can persuade them to move on. I have a few resources left in the city, enough to deal with a handful of stragglers. Either way, it can only be a passing visit. Someone has to officially tell the king his son is dead."

"How will he take the news?"

"I have no idea. Still… it's the right thing to do. After that, I can start looking for that traitorous wretch Mounteban. He's got plenty of good men's blood on his hands." Alvantes sighed. "What about you, Marina? Where will you go?"

"Home, of course. Muena Palaiya still needs a mayor."

"Things may not be how you left them."

"Then I'll deal with that when I get there. Anyway, Saltlick will need a travelling companion."

Saltlick nodded, and grinned from ear to ear.

Estrada turned to me and said, "Will you be travelling with us, Easie?" Seeing Alvantes's expression, she added, "We'd never have made it if not for him. He's learned his lesson, Lunto."

I'd learned plenty of lessons over the last few days. I chose not to guess which one she was referring to.

"I don't think you'll be returning to your old ways, will you?"

Ah, that lesson. Well, I'd given the question some thought last night, and she was right in a way. Stealing from the poor was never going to be profitable. Stealing from fat merchants was better, but before you knew it people were chasing you out of town and you had a price on your head, which tended to mitigate your already hard-earned profit.

"So will you join us?"

Thieving from invading warlords, on the other hand…

Oh, it might bring its share of problems. Perhaps I'd worn my shoes out quicker than I'd otherwise have done, accumulated some cuts and bruises, even narrowly avoided death on a few occasions. Hadn't it been worth it though, in the end? I'd helped fend off an invasion that would have left the Castoval in shackles. I'd rescued a giant, and made sure he saw his home again. I'd made a little money, and even managed to hang on to some of it.

"We'd be glad to have you along. I think Saltlick would miss you after everything you two have been through."

Maybe I'd even made a friend or two.

If purloining one unremarkable stone and one hopeless, homeless giant could bring about so much, what else might I be capable of?

The fact was, I'd been stealing from the wrong sorts of people. I'd been failing to fulfil my potential, picking easy targets. I'd been lazy, maybe even a little cowardly.

In short, I'd been aiming too small.

I grinned — at Estrada, at Saltlick, even at Alvantes.

"I'd be honoured to travel with you. Now, did I hear something about visiting the king?"