The Giant Among Us

18

Before following Avner into the temple, Tavis glanced past Brianna, down the crumbling staircase. In the outer ward far below he saw Arlien clambering toward the base of the keep. The scout saw no sign of Basil in the rubble of the inner curtain and did not know what had become of the runecaster. Nevertheless, it seemed clear that the verbeeg’s last spell had been an effective one, for the prince’s armor was battered and gouged, with sizable gaps showing in many seams. It also seemed just as clear that any damage Arlien had suffered would not prevent him from pursuing the queen. He had tossed his helmet aside and was staring up at his quarry with a dark, acid gaze.

“Tavis, are you coming?” Avner was calling from inside the temple. “I really think this is something you should handle.”

The scout turned and stepped through the doorway. He saw the top of the altar lying on the floor and a procession of Cuthbert’s men climbing out of the dais. Four warriors already stood near the front of the room, casting nervous glances at the crumbling ceiling above their heads. All of the men were fully armored, with loaded crossbows in their hands, full quivers hanging across their shoulders, and hefty axes attached to their belts. Judging by the amount of space they had left between themselves and the altar, they expected at least eight more men to follow. The scout could already see the helmet of the next one rising into sight.

Tavis pulled Avner back, passing both him and the hand-axe to Brianna. He nocked an arrow in his bow and pointed it at the warrior climbing out of the altar.

“I’d advise you not to come any farther, soldier,” the scout said. “I may not be holding Bear Driller, but at this range, even this bow has enough power to bore a hole through your steel hat.”

The man stopped and turned toward the scout, eyes wide with astonishment. The four soldiers already in the room gripped their crossbows more tightly, but wisely refrained from raising their weapons. The scout could have killed any two of them before the first one aimed his quarrel.

“Tavis, what are you doing?” gasped Brianna.

“I overheard the ettin-Arlien-say that he’d spare Cuthbert and his family in exchange for betraying you,” explained the scout “Apparently he accepted.”

“How dare you insinuate such a thing!” shouted the earl’s muffled voice. The soldier in the altar retreated down the stairs, then Cuthbert clanged into view, his visor pushed up to reveal a face red with fury. “I assure you, once we’re done with the giants, I’ll defend my name on the field of honor!”

“Defend your name wherever you like,” Tavis said, his arrow now trained on the earl. “It won’t change what I heard at Split Mountain.”

“Or what I saw in this castle,” Avner added.

The keep shook under a fresh wave of frost giant assaults, shaking a few more steps loose from the shattered stairway below. Brianna and Avner shoved into the temple behind the scout, pushing him farther into the room.

“And exactly what did you see, Avner?” Brianna demanded.

“Arlien and Cuthbert coming through the inner gate together, and they didn’t look too mad at each other,” the youth explained. “Tavis fired on the prince from the keep, so they split up. Arlien came down the ramparts, and the earl came through his secret passage. Now here we are, trapped in the middle.”

“I came through the passage because the prince barred the gate tower door. That’s when I knew for certain that he was a spy,” Cuthbert replied. “I assure you, he never would have escaped my men if Tavis’s arrows hadn’t come as such a surprise.”

The earl climbed out of the altar, then glanced at the temple’s sagging corner and motioned at the four men already in the room. “You four go back down and wait for us.”

None of the warriors moved, and one said, “It appears you may need us here, Earl.”

“Nonsense. This is just a misunderstanding,” Cuthbert said. “Besides, as a noble, I live at the queen’s pleasure. Even if she allowed an impudent firbolg to kill me, you would not interfere.”

“As you order, Milord,” grunted the warrior.

The soldier and his three companions clanked toward the altar.

“Well said, Earl,” Brianna commented. “But Tavis is hardly an impudent-”

The queen was interrupted when the walls around the temple’s sagging corner fell away, leaving a large section of floor hanging free over the ward. Although Tavis could not see what was happening at the base of the building, he did spy several frost giants staring up toward the temple staircase as though watching Arlien climb. If the collapsing wall had caused the prince any trouble, the scout saw no sign of it in their faces.

Tavis turned to Cuthbert. “Tell your men to clear the passage,” he ordered. “And if you try to lead us into a trap-”

“I won’t. I assure you.” The earl pointed to the arrow in Tavis’s bow. “You can hold that on my back. If anything happens, I’ll be the first to die.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Avner.

Without awaiting permission, the youth went to the altar and climbed in after the last warrior. Brianna started to follow, but Tavis restrained her with a hand.

“Cuthbert first, then me, then you.” The scout motioned the earl into the altar. “And I won’t hesitate-”

“I’m sure you won’t,” the earl replied. “But please don’t insult me further by dwelling on the matter.”

Cuthbert climbed over the lip of the altar and clanged down the steps. Tavis slipped into the narrow stairway somewhat more silently, bowing his shoulders inward so they would fit between the dusty walls. He kept his arrow pointed at the earl, who had kindly illuminated himself by taking a burning torch from one of his men.

The earl clanged down the murky corridor, following several paces behind Avner and his own warriors. Tavis waited until Brianna was behind him, then stooped beneath the tunnel’s low ceiling and followed at a distance of four paces. In the cramped confines, the acrid torch fumes were as thick as the oil smoke billowing over the ramparts.

From the back of the line, Brianna asked, “Exactly where are you taking us, Earl?”

“To the secret passage in my map room. My wife and daughters are waiting there,” Cuthbert replied, speaking over his shoulder. There was a catch in his voice. “I’m afraid Cuthbert Castle has fallen. I’d like you to escort my family to safety.”

“What about the hill giants?” Avner demanded, his voice echoing back up the corridor. “Don’t you have any other secret tunnels out of here?”

“One other, but it opens beyond the near shore-where the frost giants came from,” the earl replied.

“What about boats?” the youth asked. “You must have boats.”

“I do,” the earl replied. “In fact, Prince Arlien had the temerity to suggest I could save my castle by allowing him to take Brianna out on one of them.”

“How would that have saved you?” the queen asked.

“Once the giants saw you leaving, the prince assured me they would have abandoned their attack,” the earl replied. “I would have cuffed him, had one of Tavis’s arrows not bounced off his armor at that very moment.”

“How convenient for you,” Tavis remarked dryly.

“Yes, quite,” the earl replied, apparently missing the sarcasm in the scout’s voice. “I’m sure he would have killed me on the spot. But, returning to Avner’s concerns about eluding the giants, it really is best to use the map room passage. You see, before he died, the captain of my Keep Guard spied the queen’s army coming down from the Shepherd’s Nightmare. You may have to fight past a few hill giant sentries when you leave the passage, but at least help will be close at hand.”

“Earl, you keeping say ‘you,’ ” Brianna observed.

“This is my ancestral castle, Majesty.” Cuthbert stopped and ran his hand over a rough-hewn wall. “Now that it has fallen, I have no desire to leave alive.”

Brianna nodded. “I understand,” she said. “But the responsibility does not lie on your shoulders. I brought all this on Cuthbert Castle. If I leave, then so must you.”

The earl shook his head. “Not so, my queen.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You are Hartsvale. If you perish, the rest of the kingdom follows. It has been my duty to defend you, and it is my regret that I have done so poorly.”

Tavis felt Brianna touch his shoulder. “You can lower your arrow,” she said. “I think we can trust Cuthbert.”

“We can’t be certain,” the scout countered. “Arlien’s tongue was slicker than the earl’s.”

Brianna reached around him and pushed the arrow down. “If Cuthbert were going to betray me, don’t you think he would have done it before the giants demolished his castle?”

The scout frowned, unable to think of any reason even the most treacherous traitor would have waited so long. He took his arrow off his bowstring and returned it to his quiver.

“My apologies, Earl,” Tavis said. “The queen has often said I must learn to make allowances for human nature. If you wish to avenge my slight on the field of honor-”.

“That won’t be necessary, Tavis,” Brianna interrupted. “After Arlien’s duplicity, you’re right to be cautious. And speaking of the prince, why don’t you tell us about this plan you have for dealing with him?”

At last, Basil saw sunlight filtering through the rubble above, and he sniffed the caustic smoke of burning oil. Wine had never smelled so sweet-even to him. The runecaster pulled another block out of the wreckage overhead and tossed it toward the other end of the cramped chamber.

The verbeeg was trapped in a storage room buried in the curtain foundation. By the pale illumination seeping down from above, he could see a small door near where he had been tossing the stones. As battered and weak as he was after his fall with the collapsing ramparts, it might have been easier to crawl out through that portal. But the runecaster could not bring himself to do it. The passage beyond was musty, as black as pitch, and small. He’d rather face the giants than risk lodging himself in the depths of that gloomy tunnel.

Basil removed another block of jagged ceiling, then backed away as a cascade of shattered stones and splintered timbers poured into the chamber. When it stopped, a pillar of brilliant white light was shining down through the swirling dust. The verbeeg crawled atop the rubble and stuck his head up through the hole, pinching his eyes shut against the sky’s effulgence.

The castle had fallen surprisingly quiet. He could still hear the fires crackling on the ramparts, the wounded screaming for help or just plain screaming, and the growl of murmuring giants somewhere close. But there was no more crashing. The castle had succumbed to the attack.

Basil raised his eyelids and blinked against the brightness. He managed to hold them open until his vision adjusted to the light. His head was sticking up a little higher than ground level, and he found himself looking across mounds of rubble in the direction of the keep. The frost giants had hammered away one entire corner of the structure. Several of the brutes were watching a small, armored figure, Arlien, climb into a room hanging exposed on the fourth story. If any defenders remained inside the structure, they were no longer firing their weapons.

Out of the corner of his eye Basil caught a flash of blue twinkling in the rubble. He looked toward the sparkle and, a short distance away, saw a pale zaffer light glinting from beneath the shadow of a stone block. The verbeeg glanced in all directions. When he did not see any giants looking toward him, he pulled himself out of his hole, then crawled forward on his belly until he could reach under the rock. He felt the cold bite of an ice diamond.

Even as the stone began to numb his hand, the verbeeg felt a sick feeling welling up inside him. The last time he had seen Tavis, the scout had been wearing the necklace. Basil tugged gently on the ice diamond. It slipped from beneath the rock easily, bringing along a string of many more of the frigid gems. The verbeeg quickly examined the silver chain’s clasp and saw that it had been unhooked, not torn off. The necklace had been deliberately removed, probably because Brianna feared it would interfere with her healing spells. And if there had been time for the queen to heal the scout, it did not seem unreasonable to hope that she and her party were well on their way out of Cuthbert Castle by now.

Basil exhaled in relief. “A lucky find for me, I guess.”

The pain-numbing properties of the enchanted gems were certain to make an interesting study. The verbeeg wrapped the necklace twice around his wrist and clasped it in place, then considered his next move.

The keep’s shattered corner stood less than thirty paces ahead, a yawning enticement to visit the libraries below. To accept the invitation, all Basil would have to do was dodge a dozen frost giants and duck down the stairs before they smashed him into a pulp. Of course, then he would be alone in the keep with Arlien…

The verbeeg sighed. As valuable as the folios were, they were not worth dying for. He reluctantly turned away and, casting one last look over his shoulder, crawled toward the lake.

The muffled creak of grating hinges squealed from a distant door. The cluttered map room instantly fell silent, and Tavis heard the slap-drag of someone limping through the library.

“Basil!” Avner hissed.

“It isn’t Basil,” Tavis replied. On their way down, they had encountered a keep guard who reported seeing both Arlien and the verbeeg engulfed by the collapse of the inner curtain.

“If the prince survived, why not Basil?”

“Maybe he did, but that’s not him,” Tavis answered. “He’d never make it down here, not with the keep surrounded by frost giants.”

They were all silent for a moment, then Cuthbert said, “I’ll bar the folio room door.” The earl’s eyes were red and swollen, for he had sent his family into the secret passage only a few minutes earlier. “That should buy you time to prepare.”

“Hartsvale shall miss you, Cuthbert” Brianna stooped down to kiss him on his ruddy cheek. “If I survive, you’ll be remembered always as the Loyal Earl.”

Cuthbert managed a weak smile. He pulled his visor down and left the room, battle axe in hand.

The queen turned to Tavis. “Shall we ready ourselves?”

Avner cast a yearnful glance toward the sliding map case, which stood pushed open above the secret passage. “We could still call the earl’s men back.”

Tavis shook his head. “Their weapons won’t pierce Arlien’s armor. They’d just be in the way, and their presence might alert the prince to our plan,” he said. “It’s better to let them drive the giants away from the exit”

The youth gulped, then turned to clear the maps and shelves out of a cabinet near the chamber entrance. Brianna closed and barred the door, while Tavis made sure that every sconce in the chamber held a lit torch. When the battle against Arlien began, the last thing he wanted was for the room to suddenly fall dark. When they had finished their preparations, Avner climbed into the case he had cleared. Since it had no doors, he was clearly visible, but if all went according to plan, the prince would not be looking in his direction. Tavis pulled the sliding map case halfway back over the secret passage and summoned the queen to his side.

“I hope you’re a good actress,” the scout said.

Brianna smiled confidently. “I think you’ll be surprised.”

A muted boom sounded from the folio room, followed by Cuthbert’s battle cry and the clang of his axe striking Arlien’s armor. In the next instant, the earl’s steel-sheathed body crashed through the map room door and fell to the floor in a bloody, jangling heap. His breastplate had been cleft down the center, and his sternum was split apart.

Tavis leaned against the map case. It slid open with a harsh, grating sound.

“Down you go, Majesty!” The scout pushed Brianna into the stairwell, keeping himself half turned toward the doorway.

Arlien stepped into the room and booted Cuthbert’s lifeless body aside. Although the armored corpse probably weighed as much as a small bear, the kick sent it tumbling halfway down the wall. Tavis slipped an arm around Brianna’s neck, then drew his dagger and pressed the tip to her throat. “Don’t come any farther,” the scout warned. “You know what I’m sworn to do.”

“You won’t kill her.” Arlien’s voice had a hoarse, throaty sound. “You’re in love with her.”

The prince stepped forward, more or less dragging one of his legs. Apparently, he had not escaped the rampart collapse completely without injury.

Tavis lightly drew the dagger across Brianna’s throat, opening a shallow cut. She cried out in a groggy voice, and the scout turned her toward Arlien to display the gash.

“I’m a firbolg,” he said. “I’ll do my duty.”

Arlien stopped four steps into the room. The prince asked, “Why don’t we let the queen decide?” He stretched a hand toward Brianna. “Come to me, my dear.”

The queen’s body stiffened ever so slightly, and she tossed her head, as if trying to clear it. “Arlien?” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

The prince gestured her forward. “I’ve come for you.” His voice had a sharp edge. “Come here.”

Brianna tried to pull away, but Tavis would not release her. He backed into the secret tunnel, starting down the stairs. As he tried to pull the queen after him, she shot one hand up through the crook of his arm and drove her other elbow into his ribs. The scout dropped backward and descended the stairs in a controlled tumble, grunting and slapping the stone steps to make the fall sound as convincing as possible.

At the top of the stairs, Brianna walked slowly forward.

“Arlien, I thought…” She let the thought trail off, allowing Tavis time to reach the bottom of the stairwell and regain his feet “I thought you had abandoned me.”

“Never, my dear,” said the prince. “Now come to me.”

Brianna moved forward, stepping out of Tavis’s sight. The scout pulled his bow off his shoulder and the golden arrow from his quiver, then bounded up the stairs. He trained his golden arrow on the center of the queen’s back.

“Majesty, no!” he yelled.

Brianna slowly turned, then Arlien’s hand flashed up and pulled her back. The prince stepped forward, placing his body between her and the golden shaft, and cocked his warhammer to throw. Tavis raised his aim, pointing his arrow over his foe’s shoulder at the queen’s head.

“She’s taller than you,” the scout warned. “I’ll kill her.”

Arlien did not throw his weapon. Behind him, Brianna reached for her hand-axe, and Avner slipped from his hiding place.

“What do you want?” asked Arlien.

“I want you to tell Lanaxis that he can’t have Brianna-even if she is the first queen of Hartkiller’s line.” Avner had told Tavis and Brianna about Basil’s discoveries. “And I want her back.”

Brianna freed her axe, then held it poised to strike. Avner reached for a torch.

Arlien’s eyes narrowed. A cunning smile crossed his lips, and he said, “If you know her ancestry, then you also know our blood runs strong in her veins. I can only imagine how your earls will feel when they learn-”

As Avner slipped his torch from the sconce, the prince suddenly fell silent and cocked an ear.

“Now, Brianna!” Tavis yelled.

The queen brought her hand-axe down, not attacking the prince but slicing the buckles off his breastplate. With her free hand, she grabbed his collar and pulled, ripping the armor off.

“By the titan, what are you doing?” The prince whirled on Brianna, more confused than angry.

Tavis drew his bowstring taut, training his arrow on the center of the prince’s back. In the same instant, Avner stepped forward, bringing his torch down on Arlien’s weapon hand.

The prince roared in pain and dropped his hammer. His hand instinctively jerked away, then snapped back into the youth’s face just as reflexively. The impact launched the boy across the room, his nose flattened and a spray of teeth flying from his mouth.

“Avner!” Brianna cried.

The boy crashed into a map cabinet and crumpled to the floor. The burning torch slipped from his limp hand, rolling across the cold stones to the base of a cabinet filled with vellum maps. Tavis loosed his golden arrow and rushed up the stairs, and Brianna swung her axe at the prince’s neck. But even as their weapons flashed through the air, Arlien was exploding to his true size, dropping his helmet and leg armor as a molting locust sheds its exoskeleton.

When Brianna’s axe struck, the prince had grown so tall that the blade hit his weapon arm instead of his neck. And by the time Tavis’s arrow arrived, Arlien’s shoulders were pressed against the ceiling. The shaft sank not into his back, but deep into his thigh.

The prince did not even feel the missile strike, for Basil’s rune magic prevented the shaft from causing any pain. The arrow paled to the color of ivory. A glassy yellow cast spread outward from the wound, turning the flesh of the entire leg as flaxen and glossy as gold. The knee buckled, and Arlien crashed to the floor. He landed on his side, his body so huge that it completely hid Brianna from the scout’s sight.

The flaxen death magic lost its vigor as it crept past the ettin’s hip, so that by the time it was spreading up Arlien’s back, his flesh was no longer turning yellow and lustrous. His skin merely paled to a dull, jaundiced color, his ribs continuing to rise and fall as the astonished prince gasped for breath.

Tavis cursed himself for not anticipating the explosive change in size, then pulled another arrow from his quiver. As he nocked the shaft, the ettin rolled toward him and the scout found himself looking up into Julien’s swarthy face. Arno’s brutish head, desiccated and lifeless, lay flopped over the festering sore where the runearrow had detonated during the blizzard.

Tavis quickly loosed his arrow. The shaft disappeared into the knotted muscles of the ettin’s massive neck, and Julien roared. The scout glimpsed a great hand arcing toward him from the ceiling, then his entire body went numb as the enormous fist smashed into his chest, shattering bones from his clavicle to his lowest ribs. He bounced off the sliding map case and dropped into the secret passage, listening to his own bones crunch and grind as he bounced down the stairs.

By the time he reached the bottom, the agony was beginning to set in. Every breath sent stabbing pains shooting through his chest and abdomen, while the anguish in his left shoulder was so fierce that he knew even attempting to move the arm would prove futile. He rolled to his knees, but grew dizzy and nearly fainted when he tried to stand.

Tavis smelled smoke. He looked up the staircase and saw dark fumes curling down the passage. That was when he thought of Avner. The youth’s torch had not rolled far after being dropped. If the map cabinets were on fire, it would not be long before the boy burned as well. The scout dragged himself up a stair, then saw Julien dropping to his belly at the top of the passage.

Tavis grabbed his bow and quiver and lay on his back, his feet pointing up the stairs. The ettin thrust a torch into the passage, but Brianna suddenly leaped into view, swinging her hand-axe at his temple. Julien glimpsed the attack at the last instant and turned away. A loud crack echoed through the chamber as the blade scraped along his huge skull.

Blood sprayed in all directions, but Tavis guessed that Julien had suffered only a superficial scalp wound-messy, but hardly fatal. Using his good arm, the scout hooked his bow over his toes, then nocked an arrow.

Julien looked at Brianna. “Stay away!” he growled, shoving her back. “You can’t save him now.”

The ettin thrust his long arm back into the passage, trying to reach Tavis with the torch in his hand. The scout fired, and his wooden arrow sank deep into his attacker’s forearm. The flaming brand dropped harmlessly on the stairs.

Julien withdrew his hand and plucked the shaft from his forearm like an annoying splinter. Tavis nocked another arrow, grunting from the sharp pains the movement sent shooting through his chest. The scout saw a billowing cloud of smoke behind the ettin, and he heard the queen coughing.

“Brianna!” he yelled. “Avner-don’t let him burn!”

Julien peered down the stairs. “Ill trade you,” he said. “The boy’s life for yours.”

“So you can take Brianna to the titan?” Tavis aimed his arrow at Julien’s brown eye. “Not even for Avner!”

The ettin quickly placed a shielding hand between the shaft and his face. Plumes of smoke swirled between his huge fingers.

“My offer is better than you think. Lanaxis doesn’t need Brianna forever,” Julien said. “He’ll allow her to return to Hartsvale after she delivers the child I got on her.”

The bowstring nearly slipped from Tavis’s fingers. “What?”

The ettin lowered his hand. “It’s true,” Julien said. “One child. That’s all we want Is that so much to ask?”

Tavis did not know what to think. If the ettin had fathered a child by Brianna, the king of giants would be born whether they escaped or not. Would Ostoria then be fated to rise again, and what would that mean for Hartsvale? A vision of the human roasting over the ettin’s campfire flashed through the scout’s mind, and he knew he would have to kill Brianna’s child, or even the queen herself, before he allowed such a thing.

From somewhere behind Julien, Brianna screamed, “You fathered nothing on me!”

The prince’s discarded warhammer flashed into view, slamming into the side of the ettin’s skull. A tremendous crack resounded down the stairs. Julien’s brown eyes glassed over, but the brute did not fall.

“Liar!” Tavis yelled.

The scout drew his arrow back until he heard the little bow crack in protest, then released the string. The shaft flashed away, and the last Tavis saw of it was when the dark fletching disappeared into the ettin’s eyeball.

A shocked gurgle rose from Julien’s throat His hands started to rise toward his head, then dropped to the floor as his entire body fell limp. His huge torso collapsed over the stairwell, plunging it into darkness and driving a pillar of choking smoke down the narrow passageway.

Tavis tossed his bow aside. He struggled to his feet and staggered up the dark stairs as quickly as his battered body would allow. When he reached the top, he threw his good shoulder into the ettin’s lifeless chest and tried to push the huge corpse away. He gulped down a lungful of smoke seeping into the passageway and started to cough. The attack racked his shattered body with such pain that he nearly tumbled back down the stairs.

Tavis knelt on a step until the fit passed, then held his breath and redoubled his efforts. An agonized groan burst from his lips. A sliver of hazy yellow light appeared between the ettin’s body and the edge of the portal. Clouds of silvery smoke boiled into the passage. The scout pushed his aching body into the narrow gap until he could brace his feet against a stairwell wall and shove the corpse completely out of the way.

Tavis heard Brianna coughing and gasping. He climbed into the map room and saw the queen coming toward him out of the smoke. She held Avner’s limp body cradled in her arms.

“Is he-”

“He’ll need some healing, but he’ll survive,” the queen said.

She slipped past Tavis and descended the steps, holding the youth against her chest like an infant. The scout grabbed a torch and followed her. The smoke thinned as they neared the bottom of the stairwell, and they both stopped coughing. The bodyguard and his queen continued down the dank passageway for several minutes, until the water seeping down from Cuthbert Lake started to lap at their feet and the fire behind them seemed a harmless and distant thing.

Brianna stopped and faced Tavis. She was cradling Avner in one arm, as mothers sometimes hold their babies. “About what Julien claimed,” she said. “I hope you aren’t gullible enough to believe everything you hear.”

“Of course not. I may be a firbolg, but I’m not naive.” Tavis placed his good arm around Brianna’s shoulders and drew her close. “But I do believe you. I always have.”