Friday, January 31, 2020
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - 2020 - Part 11
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 11
"Come along," Harold called to the small orc. "You little monster," he said under his breath.
"Wait, wait!" cried Little Rat. "I hurry."
The orc slipped from stone to stone following the halfing's path. The two were almost of a size; the small, thin orc was just a hand taller, but nothing more than flesh and bones wrapped in a dirty rag of shirt and pants. Neither wore shoes, the halfling had the wide heavy padded feet of his kind and the orc had soles tough as leather, thick and scarred.
Harold stopped, his feet on a split stone projecting from the wall of rock. He heard voices drifting up from below and peered down to see who made them. Between a wide cleft of rock his companions sat in two small groups. The orcs gathered round their leader, while Talberth, Gytha and Ghibelline sat by the body of the man they'd rescued and who'd died this very morning. Ivo sat atop a high boulder, half concealed by the stones around him and a cloak which blended in with rocks dull gray shade.
There was a scrabble above, the sound of cracking stone, he heard a small sharp yell and jerked his head around looking up the wall of rock. Harold had time only to raise his hands. A wide-eyed orcish face came hurtling down. Little Rat crashed into the small thief and both went over the foothold in a tangle, both shouting as they fell.
* * *
Harold barely had time to scream out a curse before he and the orc bounced off a small lip of rock projecting from the stones. The tangled pair flew apart, all eyes turned up to watch; a dark shape with many limbs and a howling voice that was both a squeak and a sharp loud screech that came hurtling from the rocks above their heads.
The quickest to react were Talberth and Ghibelline. The mage wore a magic ring set with stones, each a different type of gem; these housed the power of magic spells which could be called upon instantly. The touch of Talberth's hand on a small green emerald chip and an arcane word unleashed the spell. Talberth directed its energy and an unseen force washed over the nearest of the two who fell. Little Rat seemed to swim through the air, his arms and legs beat like a humming birds, a blur of movement lashing out wildly. At first his effort did nothing to slow him down, but as the magic that Talberth cast came over him he began to float. The small orc drifted like an autumn leaf dancing back and forth in a slight fall breeze. He landed on his back and lay there looking up at the sky, not moving, lying still but for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
The thief was not so lucky. Talberth's spell did not take hold of him. Harold plummeted down, he had only a moment shake the panic from his head and let his form go slack. "Land loose as a drunkard," his old teacher used to say, but still he hit hard. With a running leap Ghibelline threw himself beneath Harold, his arms stretched out to catch, but he'd jumped too soon. The little thief crashed into the elf's back slamming him face first into the stones. Harold bounced, he knocked himself unconscious, his head smacking against a rock. Gytha ran over to Harold first. She saw Ghibelline push himself up, his face scratched and bleeding, but the thief was her first concern.
"Harold, Harold!" Gytha ran her hand down the back of the halfling's head. It came away wet with blood.
"Is he all right?" Ivo had come scrambling down from his perch atop the high boulder.
"He is hurt, I do not know yet how badly," The cleric felt Harold's neck, but was careful not to move him. "Cuthbert, dear Saint, aid me with your strength again." She put one hand to the back of his wounded head and the other behind his neck. The Saint's power flowed through her hands and bathed Harold's head in a gold light. Gytha felt his body relax, she hadn't noticed his breathing before, but she heard him inhale, deeply, then exhale in a long sigh. "He sleeps now," said Gytha. "I would rather have him awake, it is not good to sleep with such a hurt, but he is in the Saint's hands, I can do no more."
"You have healed him?" asked Ghibelline. The elf cradled his arm against his chest. The bleeding cuts went unheeded, leaving trails like tears of red down his face.
"It looks like you need some healing too," said Ivo.
"I have done what I could for Harold, let me see your arm," said Gytha. "Your face needs tending to."
"I am worried about your friend," said Ghibelline. Gytha reached out to check his arm but the elf backed away. "Heal him first, Jalal was injured so, he did not wake, the same as your friend." Ghibelline nodded toward the thief.
"Jalal was old, his time had come," Gytha smiled sadly. "I feel that Harold's time is not today. Trust me, he will wake, but you are injured now and we may need that arm of yours."
Talberth looked down at the snoring thief; he bent with the thought of turning the halfling to make Harold more comfortable.
"Don't!" yelled Gytha. "Don't touch him! Talberth you may hurt him worse if you try to move him."
The mage held up both his hands and turned away, chastened by Gytha's angry shout.
Ivo grabbed the edge of Talberth's robe and lead him aside. "Best not to interfere, she has things well in hand."
"I was just trying to help," muttered Talberth.
"Harold will be fine, but you and I will need to take watch, and decide what to do with our scout, and these orcs." The two wizards looked over at Derue and beyond him to where the orcs sat in a rough circle. Their leader talked with them and was answered with a few grunts and sullen looks, but they were a quiet lot. "I would prefer them to be loud," said Ivo.
"They are nothing to worry about," Talberth dismissed them from his mind.
"Well then, I will worry for you," said Ivo. "A knife is always dangerous, especially if it is behind you."
***
They soared, but Harald did not feel like a bird, he just felt sick. Telenstil brought them over the hill, sweeping in from the south. If any watched from the steading they would see a strange sight indeed as the elf and the ranger crossed the sky.
The land below was bare atop the giant's hill, the trees cut down long ago to help build the steading's halls. They stripped the land around, but new growth had begun fill the slopes around their hill. At the top the giants had pulled the roots from the ground and hacked down anything taller than a man, but beyond the crown they did not care if the trees returned.
Harald scanned the slope; his eyes were old, but still sharp, sharper than an elves they used to say. He yelled out when he caught sight of the ledge where they had camped the night before. He waved to Telenstil and shouted over the rushing wind.
"There!!!" he cried. "Look!"
Telenstil waved back, then directed the orb down toward the ledge. They passed by their old camp then followed the trail, flying straight up the hill. The elf's head turned right then left. Beside him Harald did the same, searching for the friends they'd left behind. As they rose the mage felt a weight begin to drag at him, the orb had changed, no longer white, it dulled. No time to warn his friend he set them down, the power draining completely from the orb before they landed.
Harald was taken by surprise. He brought his feet up but skidded across the uneven trail on his knees. Telenstil nimbly stayed on his feet and ran to aid his friend.
"Harald, my apologies, are you injured?" asked Telenstil solicitously.
"I've skinned my knees," Harald gave a groan as he stood. "I had worse when I was boy falling down a tree, but I wish you could have told me we were going to land."
* * *
"We will have to walk from here," said Telenstil.
"The Oerth Mother be praised," smiled Harald. "No more flying for me, it's too hard on the knees."
The sun was climbing on toward noon when the pair crested the hill and left the crossbacked trail. Telenstil marveled at the ranger's strength. Harald seemed tireless while the elf needed to stop and rest more than once as they followed the steep path.
"Their trail is clear?" asked Telenstil.
Harald laughed, "On this hill, it is like footprints in new snow. There isn't really anyplace to go here except up or down." The ranger looked back the way they'd come. "It is all rock and cliff-face. Easy enough to climb, but it would be slow going for our lot. Besides, climbing up these rocks only takes you to a higher leg of the trail."
"Yes," Telenstil agreed. "This slope climbs the hill like it was the side of a Ziggurat."
"A what?" asked Harald.
"A vast structure of stone," Telenstil explained, "a building big as a hill, each segment is a huge square block with another smaller square of stones set on top till it ends with a small plateau, each side a set of stairs running from the summit to the ground."
"You're joking," laughed Harald. "Such things exist? What a waste of time."
"They do, at least such is recorded in the journals of the wise," said Telenstil. "One such building is said to tower over the jungle lands far to the south and east, a place of great power."
"They must be lowlanders who built the thing," mused Harald, "and have no hills of their own."
***
Ivo saw them first, though Talberth had the better view. The young mage was a poor watchman, his mind ruled his eyes. A blank look would fall across his face as he stared out over the hilltop, and he would become lost in thought.
"There they are!" Ivo gave Talberth a nudge and ran across the boulder they stood upon, surefooted as a mountain goat.
Talberth cried out for the gnome to wait, but his plea went unheeded. He took great care crossing the same length of stone that Ivo traveled with ease, he had to stoop and crawl, undignified but safe from falling off the boulders' smooth surface.
"Telenstil, Harald, thank goodness you two have returned unharmed," Ivo said with relief.
"What has happened?" asked Telenstil. "You sound concerned my friend."
"Harold has been injured, he took a fall..." began Ivo.
"What! How badly is he hurt?!" demanded the ranger.
"Gytha has tended to him," Ivo assured the man. "He sleeps. She says he will be fine, but he hurt his head..."
"Then he should not sleep!" Harald said angrily.
"Gytha knows..."
"Yes she does know!" it was Ivo's turn to interrupt. "She has done all she can, and she says he will be fine. Tut!" Ivo held up his hand and silenced the ranger before he could interrupt again. "Gytha knows more of the healing craft than you my friend, or do you doubt her?"
The ranger's shoulders sagged. He leaned against a rock. A great fatigue came over him.
"You are right master gnome. I am in the wrong, my apologies."
"No need," said Ivo.
"Where is our thief?" Harald asked subdued.
"He sleeps near to that rise," said Ivo, pointing to the east where the bare stones became a peak. "You can find him by his snores."
"My thanks," Harald answered him politely. He gave a deep and respectful bow.
Ivo bowed back then watched the ranger rush by.
"How did it go with you?" he asked Telenstil.
"I believe the results were worth the effort," the mage replied. He paused for a moment then looked down at Ivo with a serious expression on his face. "Would our presence have saved Harold from his fall?"
"Some would say it was his fate," Ivo shook his head. "Who can say? Each footstep takes us down a different path."
"Ah well," Telenstil sighed, "Our quest may lead us all into the endless sleep."
"If that is so..." the old gnome grimaced then brought the talk back to the here and now. "Tell me how your little side trip went."
"It went well enough," said Telenstil. "We ambushed two of Nosnra's messengers, killed them, but a third escaped. That will cost us later I am sure."
"No doubt," Ivo agreed.
"It went well, a third might have been too many for us to stop," admitted Telenstil.
"Fifty years ago you would not have believed that you could slay one giant let alone two," mused Ivo reflecting on the past.
"Our ranger is a mighty hand with his sword," said Telenstil. "It was his hand that slew the greater of the pair."
"Humans, fifty years ago he was a babe in swaddling," laughed Ivo. "They lead a may-fly life."
"They burn bright in the time they have," Telenstil smiled back. "As do you and your kind my friend."
"Elves," Ivo said dismissively. "You live a dragon's years. What a gnome could do with such a lifetime. You play more than you work."
"Life is worth enjoying," Telenstil laughed in reply. "It is worth thinking about as well. The hours pass as slowly for us as they do for you or for our human friends, but the years, Ivo, the years go quickly by."
"Speaking of time," said Ivo, "we had best get on the move, unless we are to camp here."
"I will need to rest a bit before we move on," said Telenstil. He sat down on a chair-sized rock and opened up his pack. "Here, I took these from the bodies of the giants. Messages sent from Nosnra I suspect."
Ivo eyed the huge rolls of skin that Telenstil drew out.
"One for you," said Telenstil handing a roll of hide to Ivo, "and one for me."
"We will be camping here then," Ivo bit his lip. "I am not sure that is for the best."
"There will be time enough," Telenstil said. "Time for me to rest and time enough to sort out Nosnra's letters."
Ivo raised a bushy brow as he looked over the scroll the size of a cloak. "A giant's scrawl, this may take some time to decipher. It is always like a code. Giants, they never manage to spell a word the same way twice."
"We will manage," Telenstil assured the gnome.
***
"Harold, can't I leave you on your own for a minute?" the ranger said quietly, standing over the small sleeping thief.
"He will be fine," Gytha put her hand on the ranger's arm then leaned her head against his shoulder.
"He fell?" asked Harald.
"He has gained an apprentice it seems, the little orc. The orc fell and both tumbled from the rocks up there," Gytha pointed to the sheer wall of stone that rose up above their heads.
"Where is this orc?" Harald asked in a slow and dangerous voice.
"Now Harald, the little fellow meant no harm," Gytha said and held tightly to the ranger's arm. "He has become quite attached to our halfling friend. I talked with him, he feels very bad. He told me that Harold saved his life up there."
"I do not trust orcs," said Harald. "Even little ones."
* * *
Midday, the sun was bright overhead and the company found themselves still camped atop the hill. With the aid of the ranger's skills and the gnome's illusions they were safely hidden from all but arcane sight. The orcs slept, they hid their eyes from the sunlight laying themselves face-down on the stones and hard-packed oerth. The others were awake and all but the scout Derue were gathered about the body of Jalal.
"Will this work?" asked Gytha.
"Talberth and I have studied this spell, it will work," Telenstil replied.
"Ghibelline, it will provide a safe resting place for his body," she said to the elf.
"I wish I knew the customs of his kind," said Ghibelline sadly.
"His body will be safe, hidden and encased in stone," Telenstil said calmly.
"Will he rest, or will his spirit be trapped here as well?" asked Ghibelline.
"I think he will rest," said Gytha. "We all wish him peace."
"He died free," Harald said. "He escaped from that hole of Nosnra's. I think he will rest. It is a beautiful place this land, even the nearness of the giants cannot take that away."
"They are a blight," muttered the little thief, "they should be wiped out."
"Harold, I am glad to hear you speak," said Telenstil.
The halfling had been quiet and withdrawn since he had awakened. He had overjoyed his companions when his eyes first opened, but his words were dark and he had not smiled, a great change for the small thief.
"Be assured we are not finished with the giants yet."
"And they are not finished with us," said Ivo.
"Yes. We need to speak of this, but now let us put Jalal to rest," said Telenstil.
"I will carry him," the ranger said.
"No," Ghibelline spoke up. "No, I will."
"Let us help you," said Gytha. "The ground is rough, we will lend a hand."
Ghibelline and Gytha held the dead man's shoulders, while Harald lifted his legs. They carried him across the hilltop to a place near its center where a large patch of stone lay bare of oerth worn smooth by the wind and the passing years. Carefully they placed him near the stone. Ghibelline removed the cloak which he had taken from the steading and wrapped it around Jalal then Harald tied ropes around the legs and chest of the shrouded form. They stepped away, all bowed their heads and said silent prayers or words of farewell, then Talberth and Telenstil motioned for the others to step back.
"Sax-Am Va-Ere K-Am," Talberth intoned. He threw a thimble made of raw wet clay that held a clear drop of water, it struck and seemed to melt, then the stone rippled like a pool of water in the rain. Ghibelline reached out and clasped Gytha's hand in his own.
With the clay that Talberth had used to form his thimble, Telenstil fashioned a miniature bucket and a tiny spade. He held these in his hand and spoke a single word. "Fo-Dere!" he commanded and the mud became a pit, the edges piled high with the wet oerth, thrown out evenly by the magic spell.
"Quickly now!" Talberth called out.
Gytha and Ghibelline lifted the rope tied about Jalal's chest while Harald and Talberth raised the body by the rope around the legs. They stumbled across the slick oerth and half carried, half dragged Jalal over to the muddy pit. Ghibelline swore beneath his breath at his awkwardness, while Gytha mouthed a prayer. The walls of the pit caved in and fell upon Jalal, the sudden weight pulled the rope from their hands almost dragging Talberth down beside the body of the dead man. Ghibelline stood ankle deep in mud. He looked down at the mire of Jalal's grave and said goodbye.
"Farewell my friend, rest now. I will find your kin one day and repay the debt I owe you, my freedom and my life," the elf knelt down in the mire and with his hands began to push the piled mud back down into the pit.
Gytha knelt as well, then Harald, then the other Harold, no longer grim but with eyes as wet as the muddy oerth.
"Come, it is only the fair oerth, no shame to have on your hands or your clothes," Ivo said to his fellow mages. The old gnome joined the others then both Talberth and Telenstil sank down on their knees and helped. A small figure looked on, and quietly crept beside the thief. Little Rat had no qualms about sinking his hands into the mud. They were a filthy mess when they backed away. Telenstil made sure that no one would be affected by his spell, then spoke the words and threw a piece of stone and a handful of water on the mud.
"K-Am Va-Ere Sax-Am," he said, and the mud froze to stone again.
***
"We have very little water up here," said Talberth. "But I can use a small spell to remove this dirt."
"I will let it stay awhile," said Ghibelline.
"As will I," Harald said as well. "There is a clear stream below, I will enjoy a soak."
"I need to study. I will have to rid myself of this dirt before I touch my book." Talberth reflected for a moment then cast the spell. With a gesture he wiped the dirt from his hands and robe.
"This oerth is a most honorable covering," said Telenstil, "but I must consult my grimoire as well. Talberth if you will."
The young mage used his power once again and with it made the drying mud slide away from the elf's clothes and skin.
"Now, we had best break camp soon," Telenstil told them, "But before we do, we need to talk."
"What is there to say," the little thief said glumly.
"Hey! Hands! Hands! Use spell, clean hands!" cried out the young orc. Little Rat pranced about and held up his filthy hands for Talberth to see.
"Get away!" yelled Talberth.
"Come my friend," chided Telenstil, "It is a small spell. You still have it prepared, do you not?"
Talberth scowled then cast the spell. It fought against the grime already caked on in layers atop the orc's skin, but the magic proved the stronger of the two. Dirt both old and new fell from Little Rat and pattered around his feet in a small pile. Little Rat rubbed his hands together then wiped his palms across his face. He licked one hand then scrubbed at his arm."Look! Magic, all clean!"
"Powerful magic there," said Harald snidely.
They had no fire and few supplies, but what they had they shared among themselves. The orcs had raided the giants' kitchen and had taken what they could stuff within their belts, but they had eaten it all in one frenzied meal.
Gytha shook her head and then kneeled in prayer. "Sustain us, my Saint, we are in need, our enemies are near, bless us with your strength and the food to keep our own strength pure," she intoned, and the ledge before her shimmered. Upon the stones there was now a cloth and upon the cloth bread, fruit, meat, and skins of water and a few of wine.
"Thank you for this meal," said Ghibelline.
"Thank Saint Cuthbert," chided Gytha pleasantly, "This is his bounty."
"I thank you both," replied Ghibelline with a smile.
Murmured thanks went around the gathered company and they set to with gusto. Gytha put aside a portion for the orcs as well. Little Rat sat himself beside the halfling and ate heartily, while the other orcs accepted the food and water but offered no thanks themselves and sat several yards away.
"A waste of good food," Harald complained.
"Maybe it would be better to leave them here," Talberth suggested.
"Perhaps," Telenstil said then cleared his throat. "First though, we need to decide on our next step. My friends, we came here to discover, and to punish, as best as we were able. We all began this quest knowing something of what to expect, beyond that, beyond the depredations of Nosnra and his kind that brought us here, we possessed merely guesswork and rumors. Some of what we came to find has been found. That map, now I hope safely in the hands of my Queen, will be of help to those concerned, your leaders, your kindred or your patrons. I do not feel that the map alone has been enough. For myself I cannot return home till more has been done."
"Yes, I say yes. We must kill Nosnra and as many of his kindred as we can," said Harald.
"Wipe them out!" called out Harold.
"Yes, that would be well," said Telenstil. "Let me speak," he cut short any further replies. "Henri said to us that Nosnra was just the finger on a hand, I agree. Killing him and all his kin will not end this, delay it perhaps for a time, but cut down Nosnra and another will rise to take his place."
"Like a tree," said Ghibelline.
"No, more like a weed," Telenstil said. "These few score giants, they are powerful foes, but throughout the hills and mountains there are many more. What I saw on the map were names of chiefs, more clans than the number of giants that people Nonsra's hall. It showed these lands, and at their borders where the great mountain chain takes hold, it showed the route that their allies would take. It did not name them, but from what some of us have seen they are the giants of the frost and snow, their ambassadors and scouts have already arrived, and these cold monsters are greater beasts than any of their hill dwelling kind."
***
"Telenstil, I have a copy of that second map," said Talberth, "and this chain, I know what Harald thinks of it, but I am convinced that it will be of use. I studied that second map, as you studied the first, and it speaks of Grugnir's rift. It shows a place where I suspect the chain will take us, some room or cave, then a pathway, between guardposts, leading...."
"But where is this place?" interrupted Harald. "And how will we get back?"
"And," Ivo added, "will that chain of yours take us back to Nosnra's dungeon."
"I cannot answer," said Talberth, "who can?"
"Perhaps only Nosnra," Telenstil said. "I doubt he will tell us. But the chain is a great risk. I read the map and the scroll which told Nosnra how to use the chain, there was much there that it did not say, things that Nosnra would know and need not be explained to him."
"It could be a trap," said Harold. "Look at those blades which we found, you and Gytha say they overwhelmed our scouts. That they were cursed, and what happened to that cursed priest Henri," Harold thought for a moment and pulled loose a pouch of coins he had secured to his belt. He hefted it in one hand then threw it far, out among the rocks. "Everything taken from that room seems cursed, why should that chain be any different, or those coins."
"Cursed is perhaps not the word," said Telenstil. "Rather I would say that those blades were not meant for them, or for any who would be the giants' foes. Instead those blades were meant to be used by evil hands. Remember, both scouts heard the voices of the blades, they named themselves, the spirits that inhabited the steel were stronger than our companions, and so they were corrupted or driven mad."
"And the chain?" asked Harold.
"The chain," Telenstil said thoughtfully, "I would know more about it, but I feel it is what it seems. I doubt not that it was crafted with a dark magic, but a globe of light crafted by an evil hand will still cast away the dark."
"So what are you saying?" asked Harald. "You think we should use it?"
"Not yet, perhaps not at all," said Telenstil, "but it may prove to be..."
"If no one else, I will use it," said Talberth.
"If that is where your fate lies then we will see who joins you," Telenstil put his hand on the mage's shoulder. "But not yet. Talberth, we will take the chain, though it be a burden. "
"My burden you mean," spoke up the old ranger.
"Harald, my apologies, but your strength is great, and the orcs have our captive scout to carry," said Telenstil. "And Talberth, I swear that I will go with you wherever this chain may take us, after we have struck down these giants."
"I have made promises myself," Talberth said glumly. "I can wait before using the chain, but Telenstil, I think we waste our time here. If as you say Nosnra is just a finger on a hand, then this chain will lead us to that hand."
"Nosnra still lives," said Harald. "My work here is not done, I will not leave till either he is dead or I am."
***
"Don't be silly Harald," exclaimed Gytha. "I will be with you, and I do not intend to let you die."
"And I intend to kill Nosnra," Harald replied.
"Yes, but we will need you Harald," said Telenstil. "There will be other chiefs who will take up where Nosnra left off, and these giants of the cold lands, we will need you more than ever if we go against them."
"When we go," said Talberth. "Why strike off a finger when we can wound the hand?"
"Time, Talberth, time," Telenstil explained. "All that we have done will give the lowlands time. If we kill Nosnra it will add to what we may have already gained, and with that map we sent, it will prepare them for what is to come."
"What do you mean?" asked the halfling thief. "What is to come?"
"Invasion," said Telenstil. "It is something that the rulers of the lowlands fear, but many wish to bury their heads in the oerth and pretend that it will not come."
"Many say that it is just the giants' way," Harald said, "that they are raiders and come down from the hills and mountains only for plunder. But I have fought them all my life and what I have seen of late is not the giants' way. They test us, ambush patrols, destroy the freeholds and outposts that would give warning to those living below, they weaken us, but the lowlanders think it is not their concern."
"Some have listened, Harald, and some rulers have called out for help," Telenstil showed them a hide scroll he had kept at hand. "This is a message from Nosnra. We have made him call for help. It is another strangeness. I have not heard before of such alliances as this note speaks of. Here is a call for another chieftain who has sworn blood-kinship with Nosnra to fulfill their oath and to send their warriors now instead of the rising of two new moons, when they were promised. I gave Ivo another such message to translate."
"This says the same," Ivo held up a second scroll.
"And a third messenger escaped us," said Telenstil. "This is not the way of giants. Blood-kinship, I have never heard of such between clans, not with their great pride in their family lines. Never has there been such an alliance of clans, not in any record of the wise. And yet the map named dozens."
"Well that was the proof wasn't it?" asked Harold. "What more do we need?"
"We need Nosnra dead," said Harald.
"And we need more information," answered Telenstil. "Hopefully we have not destroyed it in that fire. Now, time grows short for us and we must be on our way. We need to find another camp and we need to decide what to do with our orcish companions."
"I go with you!" spoke up Little Rat.
"I will keep an eye on him," said Harold.
"You have picked up a strange apprentice there," the ranger said. "Make sure you do keep him under watch."
"He will be fine," the halfling crossed his fingers on the hand hidden behind his back.
"I say we keep them with us for now." said Ivo. "Do not mistake my intent, I have no liking for these orcs and I do not trust them," his glance went to the young one by Harold's side. "But they may be of some help. They know things about the steading, and I want to study them."
"What are you thinking of?" asked Talberth.
"A spell, something to mask us," Ivo replied. "We might go unnoticed as orcish slaves and avoid raising an alarm. We will need to think of a way to get inside Nosnra's steading again."
"I see problems with that plan," said Harald. "They will simply think us rebellious slaves."
"You just don't want to look like an orc," Harold laughed.
"It seems that we are at least all agreed," Telenstil broke into their friendly banter.
"We go round and round, a lot of words, but saying little," complained Harald.
"Then we had best break camp and talk again later when we can make more detailed plans," Telenstil answered.
"Let us be gone from this place," Ghibelline agreed.
"You have been quiet," said Gytha.
"When I can be of help I will speak," said Ghibelline.
"And there is much that I wish to speak with you about," Telenstil said to Ghibelline. The elven mage then turned to the young wizard. "Talberth, please go wake the orcs and have them prepare to leave."
"Harald, will you help me with the chain?" Talberth asked.
The old ranger scowled and looked toward Telenstil without answering.
"You are right, Talberth," said Telenstil, "Harald, please, I bow to Talberth's instincts. We may need the chain.
"Talberth's instincts don't have to carry the thrice-damned thing," muttered Harald, but he turned and began to wrap the dark links about his shoulders.
"Little enough to prepare," Gytha shook her head thinking of all they had lost at their old camp.
"Yes, we will need to resupply ourselves," Telenstil looked over their bare camp, only the small packs and cloaks that they had taken with them to the steading.
The circle broke apart. Harald grumbled again as he shifted the chain on his shoulders.
"Don't complain," Talberth said to him, "I am sure we will need it."
"Then you should be the one to carry it," Harald told him.
"Now you two," warned Ivo, "none of this now. On the run from giants is no time to be arguing."
"Who's arguing," Harald snapped.
"You both are." Ivo said bruskly.
They weaved their way across the hilltop as they talked. It was not so round and flat as the giants' hill to the south, but long and rough, all stone and rock cracked and uneven.
* * *
The northern edge of the hill ended in a sudden drop, a sheer cliff that fell off into a deep ravine. Harold walked along the edge then climbed the outcropping of rock to the east. It overhung the slope below, like the lip to a mug of ale.
"No way down," Harold shook his head. Nearby him Little Rat craned his neck to see over the edge. They followed the eastern edge, checking the overhang and the slope below. Toward the center the peak began to rise and just beyond its crest he found a crevice in the rocks, a chimney of stone.
"Stay here," the small thief told the young orc. "No following me, no falling on me either."
"I stay, I stay," said Little Rat brightly, but Harold glared at him till the orc sat down and appeared to stay still.
Harold began a slow descent bracing his back and legs against the walls of the chimney. It took him down thirty feet or somewhat more, he sat below the overhang, at his feet, the steep slope of the hill at the end of a short drop.
"This will be a hard path down," he said to himself, "or a quick one." Harold eyed the slope, this far up the hill it was all scrub brush and jagged rocks. Lower down he could see a line of bushes, thick and clinging to the boles of fir trees, their lower branches brown, strangled by the climbing vines. With effort Harold made his way back up the crevice using his back and legs to climb the chimney in the same way he came down. He pulled himself up over the edge and lay on his back for a few moments, sweating heavily in the bright sun though the day was cool.
***
"Where is our ranger?" Telenstil asked the returning pair.
"He has gone ahead to scout," Ivo called out as he approached the camp.
"He took off as soon as we found a hiding place," said Talberth.
"As have our small thief and his little apprentice," said Telenstil, "We are ready here, but I left it for Talberth to wake the orcs."
"So they are my pups now," Talberth shook his head, "I could do without the honor."
"They fear you, Talberth," Telenstil patted the mage's shoulder. "That display you put on in Nosnra's dungeon was quite something. It has made a lasting impression on these orcs. Besides they would not like to be commanded by an elf, while humans often have orcs to serve them."
"Evil scum," Talberth said distastefully. "Harold might be used to dealing with such, but I..."
"It is no reflection on you my friend," said Telenstil, "but only necessity."
"I will go wake our sleeping charges," Talberth held up both hands palms out. "But orcs, this quest of ours has created a strange alliance. I do not like it." Talberth left them to wake the orcs walking over to where they slept. He passed both Gytha and Ghibelline who carried the meager supplies they had taken from the steading.
"He is right," said Ghibelline. "We cannot trust those orcs."
"You have good ears, Goblinkiller," laughed Ivo.
"Goblinkiller, Ivo what do you mean?" asked Gytha.
"Why, it is his name," Ivo looked surprised. "Gytha I thought you knew something of the elven tongue."
"Why yes," Gytha thought for a moment, "it is very much like the old tongue. Ghibelline, yes I see it now."
"A respectable name for a warrior," said Telenstil.
"I have always strived to be worthy of it," Ghibelline said quietly.
"I just wish you were called giant slayer," Ivo laughed again.
* * *
Harald whistled; a short exhale over his teeth. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand then with the same hand shaded his eyes. This peak he stood upon was half again the height of the giants' hill, but looking to the north he could see the mountains rising up, dwarfing all the surrounding hills and ridges within sight. These giants lived among the hills and valleys, the mountains were too harsh and bare. No fields for their cattle to graze, no woods beyond a certain height, poor hunting too, no place for a Hill Giant to set his hall.
"North," Harald muttered. That would be the way for them to go, Harald thought to himself. Move beyond the hills up into the crags among the nearby mountains where the giants would find it hard to follow. The ranger continued south. He checked the rocky lip of stone for another crack or some trail carved out like the pathway along the southern slopes but he found nothing safer than the chimney-like crevice at the crest of the eastern ridge.
"Noise, chief. Noise up there," Little Rat whispered to Harold. The small orc and the halfling had climbed up to the ledge above the camp and kept watch.
"Hey!" shouted out the thief. "I see you have gone out scouting as well."
The ranger pulled himself up the ledge and eyed his friend and his small orc companion wistfully. "We aren't on the crowded streets of Greyhawk," Harald said to them, "no need to shout, a good deal of need not to be heard."
"Bah!" grunted Harold. "I haven't seen anything up here but some birds and rabbits. Besides, my shouting is particularly quite."
"Well, I didn't see anything besides birds and rabbits myself," agreed Harald, "but caution is best served by silence."
"Bah again," laughed Harold. "I'd rather be shouting to you on Scriverner's Crescent on my way to The Dryad for some cold ale and pleasant company."
"You will have to take me there someday," Harald replied.
"You will buy the first round," Harold laughed again.
"And the second, my friend, but for today we'd best get back to camp and get everyone moving."
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