The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - 2020 - Part 4

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 4

The nights were always long for Ingigerd. She had a thousand pains that during the day she paid no mind, but when she tried to rest each stabbed at her with knives and teeth, they bit and jabbed within. Still she would lie quiet in her room, four giant maids at her beck and call, and close her eyes. And if she did not sleep, she dreamed of times when she was young, long ages past.

A young warrior, who never survived his betrothal quest, was pictured in her head. But she let him go and sat up and wiped away what might have been a tear. A far off noise came warbling to her ears. It rattled down the hall and even woke her lazy girls from their deep, snoring sleep. Shouts and screams, those heads that the old chief's boy had set upon the walls, ugly things or though they seemed to her.

"Get up!" she ordered the four sleeping giant girls. "Alditha, go to the tower and have them sound the warning alarm. The rest of you, grab something and follow me."

"Grab something?" quavered Alditha, the youngest of the maids.

Ingigerd gave her a withering glance, "Not you, Alditha," she said. "You will go to the tower and tell them 'Ingigerd says raise the alarm,' those words exactly. Now go and waste no more time." She watched as the young giant maid ran out the door, barefoot and in her shift, and sped away down the darkened hall.

* * *

"It's dead, thank the creator," said Telenstil with relief. "This will not have gone unnoticed." He called to the others, "Quickly, down the northern corridor. Ivo can mask us once we are in Nosnra's private room."

The trophy hall showed the scars of the battle with the stag, but the giants' chairs and tables had passed through unscathed. The eastern wall could not say the same. Fire from the burning skulls had blackened great stretches, rising up and painting the roof with smoke, but the thick timbers had not caught the blaze.

Edouard and Derue led the way.

Harold ran to his friend's side and yelled at the old ranger. "What were you thinking?"

The ranger bowed his head, abashed, but he held tight to his ancient sword and a glow shown deep within his eye.

Gytha helped the injured Henri to his feet. He breathed in short gasps, winded by his fall then saw who held his arm. He pulled away and wiped his hands together and grimaced in disgust. Gytha rolled her eyes and laughed at the priest's discomfort. Life was too short to let such rudeness touch her heart.

A cold wet wind blew down the hall. Edouard froze in mid-step as a trio of giants came walking in. "Llerg, give me strength," he said then launched himself forward. Derue held a short thrusting spear, but he took a running start and threw it.

The giant Breme, swept up a blocking hand as the spear flashed toward him. The spear struck and pierced through muscle and scraped on bone.

Talberth, with a slight of hand that he had learned early in his youth, flung out his arm and flicked his wrist, and a wand was in his grasp. "Out of the way!" he yelled at the pale-haired scouts. Overlooked but near to the door, master Ivo caught the eye of a towering giant with the quick waving of his own hand. His voice was low and the mystic words he spoke reached far inside the inner reaches of the giant's soul. A misty beast solidified before it, some twisted nightmare out of its deepest fears. Ivo grimaced at the sight; jaws which reached almost to the floor, the melding of what was real and what were only half-formed noisome thoughts. The giant's pupils flashed open wide and its own massive jaw hung loose as it tried to scream but merely let out a squeaking sound. The giant turned and ran, but the lurching phantasm sprang after, appearing solid to Ivo, it passed like the ghostly stag through scouts and giants both.

"Out of the way!" Edouard heard the wizard's shout, but brought his sword against a giant's thigh. Breme felt the stinging blow and the warm flow of blood that trickled down. He lashed out and struck the scout brushing the man against the western wall. Telenstil stepped forward and spoke the word, "Az-Trapa," and a lightning bolt streaked out. A glowing nimbus lit Derue, he barely jumped aside, the bolt struck both giants and chased along the heels of the one which ran away.

Breme roared, his hair and beard stood on end then erupted into flame with a dark, black smoke. He coughed and a cloud of puffed out, his face was black with soot.

* * *

Harald ran past Telenstil and tried to join the fight, though Talberth seemed to have things well in hand. The mage used the power stored in his wand to cast another bolt of lightning down the corridor. His companions turned their heads away from the cyan flash, and Derue crawled across the floor, singed by the first electric burst.

Two of the giants were caught within the door. Smoke rose from their clothes and one had his beard aflame after the second bolt struck. A creak of rusty hinges brought Harald around as a passageway door swung open and an ancient giantish matron ran out. She bore a stout length of wood, a walking stick perhaps, but it could have been the crossbar that shut fast the doors of a manorhouse.

"Telenstil!" Harald gave a shout, trying to warn the mage who had not heard or paid heed to the creaking sound. The matron, Ingigerd did not hesitate; she struck the elven mage across the back and head. Telenstil flew off his feet, so powerful was the blow, and crashed against a giant chair within the chief's trophy room.

"Put down that stick!" Harald warned the giantess, he came here to fight the warriors of the tribe not their granddams. She laughed at him, and called back for her maids to attack as well. Harald could see a group of several giant maidens who had not left the safety of the passageway. Ingigerd swung her club and nearly brained the ranger, but he ducked and rolled beneath her swing. He brought his sword around, the blade bit deep and cut clean through her unprotected side. She gasped in pain, but swung again, heedless of the blood which flowed like a red river and poured across the floor. The maids shrieked and one dropped a metal pan and turned away, but another, braver than the rest, who held some fraction of Ingigerd's spirit within, stepped from the safety of the hall. She caught Harald across the shoulder; her weapon a long metal brush, it felt like a shovel flat and the giantess swung it like a mace. Harald's swing went wide, he cut the crone but with a shallow glancing blow.

Telenstil had risen while this fight went on. He saw the giantess strike at Harald, and now the ranger had two huge foes to face. Time was on his mind, each passing moment brought the giants closer and chances of escape further away. With that thought he cast a spell. "He-Das!" he cried and threw a piece of brown confection at the young giantess and the open door. The candy spread out and as it did it thinned into a mist. The brown drops spattered on the giantess with the metal brush and another who, undecided to fight or flee, stood just outside the open door. The brush she swung moved as if through thick brown mud, her head turned slow, the spell had worked and mired her in time.

Harald called again for the ancient one to cease her fight, but she just laughed and made a jab with the wooden club. "Old one, you have the spirit of a warrior," Harald called to her, and brought his ancient claidheamohmor down with a swing that started far back behind his shoulders. The blade was very long, its tip cut high into her shoulder and down across her upper arm, her wrinkled flesh and wiry muscles opened beneath the razor edge of the blade. Ingigerd gave a groan, her club fell from her hands, and she fell back against the wall. She left a bloody trail as she sank down and called to Harald in a weak and gentle voice.

"I die," she said and beckoned him to come, "You remind me of my son when he was but a little boy, come let me see your eyes."

"I did not wish this," Harald replied, and took a step to the old giantess. She smiled up at him and bared her teeth. Her left hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat.

"I wish this," she spat at him and squeezed. 

***

Ingigerd's hand was big; it wrapped around Harald's neck and head, her little finger dug into his throat, but her thumb was high across the top of the ranger's skull. She squeezed, Harald pulled at her fingers and, blinded by her grasp, chopped without aim at her wrist with the edge of his sword. A pressure built behind his eyes. He could feel his sword jar against her bones but her grip did not slacken, if anything it increased. Her desperation was great. As she felt her life flow from her wounded side and arm her last wish was to take this human with her to the grave.

* * *

The lightning arced through the hall once more. The giants writhed and their beards and hair burned, their skin charred and finally they fell to the floor, twisted, blackened and contorted with pain. Dead they still shook, muscles drawing in, they curled into a ball as sleeping children would beneath the covers of a bed.

"Die... will you just die," Talberth muttered and put his wand back up his sleeve.

* * *

Ivo heard the yells of pain and angry shouts behind him. The young wizard seemed to have things well in hand down the hall. He gave the giants facing Talberth's lighting no second thought, but turned about and faced what trouble had caught them unaware. He saw an ancient giantess fall back against the wall, a younger maid moved like it was she who was old, slow and with great care. The elven mage shouted something that Ivo could not hear and a dull green ray shot out from his upraised palm and struck the slow moving maid, she seemed to sag and Ivo could see a look of dismay come to her eyes. As he watched, the old giantess, lying in a heap against the wall, suddenly came to life and snatched the ranger by the head, he gave a muffled shout, but the crone had silenced him with her wrinkled, massive hand.

Both elven mage and gnomish wizard cast their magic toward the ancient crone. Telenstil sent out a half dozen small bolts of blue glowing light, such as Talberth had used against the stag. They struck the giantess in a ring of burning blue across her chest and face, but Ivo's spell blotted her from sight. The gnome formed a globe of utter dark whose outer edge swallowed the giantess, leaving just her out-stretched arm in view. Her murderous grip was loosed and Harald fell back, his face beet-red and streaked with bruises bound to take on a darker hue.

"You lying hag!" Harald yelled and swung his sword to cut Ingigerd's hand from her ancient arm. She snatched it back as quick as she had lashed it out, and Harald's blade cut nothing but the empty air.

* * *

"Shut that door! I can spell it closed!" Talberth yelled.

Edouard picked himself up from where the giant's blow had landed him. He ran to close the northern doors. The blackened bodies of the giants lay astride the gateway.

"These cursed giants are in the way!" Edouard yelled back.

"Alright," Talberth shouted, "I see." He came running up and stood before the open doors.

Outside, the yard was wet with a light rain sweeping down, somewhere a giant howled out, mad with fear, but great shapes moved beyond the edge of a huge log fire. "They'll be coming soon enough," he said aloud. "Let them cross through this," he took a square of silver foil from his belt and pulled it apart, a yellow lump lay within. "Fo-Tia-Tikos," he intoned and threw the sulfur toward the door. It exploded into a thick sheet of fire that filled the open portal from frame to frame.

* * *

"Do not kill her!" Telenstil called to the angry ranger.

Harald stood near to the young giantess; she had dropped her brush and backed toward the now darkened corridor.

"I wasn't going to kill her," Harald yelled back. "But watch these," he waved his sword at Ingigerd and the giantish maids, "That old hag nearly tore off my head."

"Come, come," said Ivo, "we must away. This is no place to fight."

They stood at an intersection, a hub for several passages; toward the west the Great Hall, to the south both the corridor that the giantess had come from and the chief's trophy hall, and to the north the outer door into the yard that now was blocked with a wall of flame. There was another northern way, Telenstil's map, once twisted round, showed it as the chief's private room, a meeting hall, and his desire to examine it was even greater than his desire for escape. 

***

"You nearly cooked me with that magic bolt, you degenerate ape!" Derue screamed at the mage Talberth.

"I called for you to stand clear," Talberth screamed back, "You pale-haired freak!"

Derue flushed crimson red and his hand went to his belt to draw his sword, but Edouard grabbed his brother by the shoulder and pulled him back. They whispered together for a moment till Derue calmed down. The mercenary scout lowered his head, but swore and walked away and stood by the burning wall. It had flickered and waned while Talberth screamed but snapped back now that the wizard put his full mind to it once more. The wall gave off no heat this side of the door, but at its top the fire first dried then charred the portal's frame.

"You have made a friend there," Gytha said to Talberth, "Watch your back."

"What is that awful smell," Ivo asked as he approached.

Telenstil sniffed the air around the fire, "Brimstone, you've learned a variation on the base component," he said to Talberth. "No, do not reply, keep your mind on your work."

"I should have brought a deck of cards," Harold told the elf. "All this excitement and I've just been keeping out of sight."

"Then make up for it now," Telenstil told him, "Go see what is around that northern bend.

"Right you are," The halfing took off and joined the angry scout.

"Quickly now everyone, the giants will not be held off long," Telenstil said to them all.

"What of her?" Harold asked and pointed back at the giant maid. She did not advance but watched their every move.

"I will deal with her," said Ivo. He moved back down the corridor and stood before the maid. He spoke a muffled word and her hands went to her eyes, she screamed and stumbled back then fell. "I'm sorry, but what you see could mean our lives."

Ivo ran after the others toward the north and past the stinking wall of fire. "It is done," he said to Telenstil.

"Good. Our scouts are ahead, let us be on our way," Telenstil replied.

* * *

Harold crept ahead. The passage was short, a mere alcove to the giants no doubt, he thought to himself. The doors were shut, but these giants did not seem to have the skill for locks outside of bolts or crossbeams. He placed his ear against the space between door and floor and listened, pressing flat he could almost crawl beneath, but not quite.

"I hear nothing," Harold told the pair of scouts. "Let's shift this door, I feel like a cornered hare."

"Look like one as well," muttered Derue. Harold ignored the jab. Derue still had an untamed anger in his eyes regardless of what his brother had said to calm him down.

The two men tugged at the door and it swung open slowly, but creaked and groaned as it moved.

"All the hinges in this damp place must be half rust," Harold complained about the noise.

The brothers paid him no mind, but once the door was partly open, enough for them to slip by, they went in, first Edouard and then Derue.

* * *

"No!" cried Engenulf, "Step no further!"

Gosfrith nearly fell, he froze; his foot half lifted above what appeared to be another length of dirt path, identical to the one he had been following.

"Back up, carefully," the witan commanded.

"A trap?" asked Nosnra.

"Yes!" Engenulf hissed. His face was white and strained.

"Can you walk?" Nosnra held onto the witan's arm and stared at the skeletal hand that sucked the blood from Engenulf's veins.

"I can. I will. At least for a time," the witan proved his words true and paced forward then increased his stride. He walked quickly going wide around the spot he'd pointed out. The wolves stayed near him and did not venture far. Nosnra and Gosfrith stayed only an arm's length back and behind them came a score or more of giant warriors.

"What's that?" Gosfrith called out.

Engenulf looked into the distance, a group of small shapes could be seen far off climbing a ridge and, one by one, disappearing over it. He swung his doubled hand, one of flesh the other of his father's bones, and faced the shadowy figures.

"Pay it no mind. It is another trick. I think we are near."

"Good, I will call up the warriors," said Nosnra.

"Not yet. No, the closer we get the more powerful the enchantments and the traps. But be prepared! We will trap them in their lair," Engenulf's eyes burned with a red fury. He seemed to gain strength of spirit even as his physical strength diminished.

* * *

"The room is empty," Harold told the two wizards. Talberth stood with Telenstil near the wall of fire. The others had run down the hall and into the chief's private room, leaving Talberth last to hold his spell in place.

"Good," said Telenstil. "Come Talberth, the spell will hold long enough for us to run down the hall."

"Can you seal off this passage?" Talberth asked.

"I have a powerful spell that can do so, but to what effect?" Telenstil asked. "This is a dead end, though I do have two doses of my solvent left. Yes, and another spell at hand that can remove a square of wall if need be, but come let us go. I will block the hall if I must."

Talberth let his spell break free. Immediately the wall of flames began to draw back and fade.

They ran down the short hall and in through the partly open door. The room was huge, but it must have seemed quite cozy to the hill giant chief when he had his council gathered. It had a typical monstrous stone fireplace against its northern wall and a large long table dominated the room. Its top, higher than a man could reach, was out of sight above their heads.

Before them there was a forest of table and chair legs. The walls were covered with skins of beasts or hides that had been scraped clean and drawn upon with intricate designs. One huge affair, the hide of some giant monster, had been stretched from edge to edge across the southern wall. It was a map that showed both hill and surrounding lands covered with notes and symbols across its grey-white surface.

Telenstil smiled, his eyes took in the details of the map. Times and places, raids that had occurred and notes on what was to come. His smile left his face as the written notes became clear.

"Should we lock the door?" Talberth asked the elven mage.

Telenstil did not answer him. Instead he walked to the southern wall and called upon the power of his ring. "Xsurjere!" he exclaimed and rose into the air then placed a hand on the map before him.  

***

The map was more than Telenstil had hoped to find. He pulled a razor-edged knife from his belt and began to cut the map loose from where it had been nailed to the wall.

"Telenstil?" Talberth asked. He stood near to the wizard and spoke up as the elf pulled himself along.

"Yes, yes," Telenstil replied distractedly as he cut the sides of the map with haste.

"Should I magic the door closed?" Talberth asked.

"Yes," said Telenstil then he paused, "Can you cast another wall of flame?"

"I can... I have this ring..." began Talberth.

"No need to reveal secrets," Telenstil said quietly. "Block the door, and if it seems that the giants will force it open, cast your spell just inside. Now make sure to explore this room and the next room as well... through there," he pointed to a stout wooden door set with bands of iron and studded with flat headed nails that was in the eastern corner of the room. He then turned back to the map and began to cut away at it once more.

Harold walked about the room; everything was so vastly big that he would need a rope to climb into a chair.

"Nothing but lost dinner rolls, under here", he said aloud as he walked below tables and chairs that towered far above his head. "I could put up some walls and move right in," he told himself, standing beneath a bench.

This room held nothing that interested him. The skins upon the wall might fetch a goodly price, but he'd rather have some gems or golden coins that could be carried without a train of mules. He looked over at a manticore, from tail to head they'd cut it fine, the human-seeming head left whole, even a full set of spikes remained in the tail. It swung gently back and forth, like the pendulum of some ghastly clock, a few feet above the floor.

"I can sell those quills at least."

Some wizards paid a good price for such to use in the writing of arcane tomes. Harold drew his knife and walked casually to the spikey tail. He grabbed the hide and cut it loose and let it dangle like a ball and chain. It was then he noticed that this was no wall, a small space lay between the floor and what must have been a door, obscured behind the flayed hide of the manticore.

***

"...get him yet," Derue said to his brother as Ivo walked nearby. Edouard caught sight of the gnome and silently nodded his head. Derue did not continue but greeted Ivo pleasantly.

"Master gnome, did you take any hurt in the fight out there?"

"No, but I saw that you both were wounded, against that stag and facing the giants as well," Ivo watched them with a canny eye.

"The good priest Henri has prayed for us and healed our wounds," Derue explained.

"That was quick!" Ivo had not seen the priest since he'd entered in the hall. "Where is he?"

Edouard smiled; his teeth even and white. He pointed to the roof. "Up there."

"Holy Pholtus has not taken him from us?" Ivo hoped.

"He has climbed to the table top, to cleanse himself, he said," Derue told the gnome.

"Harald, Gytha," Talberth called to the ranger and the cleric. "Telenstil asks that we explore that room as well as this while he, ah... attends to the map."

All three looked over to the floating elf. He stood upon the air and edged his way from the western wall over to the east, cutting free the top edge of the map. It hung a little loose but would not fall till the sides were cut as well.

"Better tell him cut the bottom next or the job will be twice as hard with the top hanging down," said Gytha.

"Well, I think he knows what he is doing," Talberth objected.

"Humph!" Gytha laughed, "I've heard that before. Never trust a man with a map."

"I don't believe in maps," said Harald, "A ranger doesn't need them."

"Ha... my point exactly, I believe, master wizard," She said and walked over to Telenstil.

"Harald, round everyone up. I have to watch the door. Get Harold at least and Ivo, and please check out that room," Talberth turned and watched as Gytha told the elf where he should cut next.

"Where has that little thief gotten to?" Harald asked himself and left the wizard to cast his spells.

* * *

"Hey!" Harald called to his halfling friend. "Where did you get to? I've been looking for you."

"Hey yourself. I've found something," Harold laughed. "All that muscle and fat can be put to good use."

"Fat! You're one to talk, you eat more than I do!" the ranger laughed back.

"Only when I can, and on better rations than we have with us," Harold complained. "But you're distracting me. I've found a door, and it's one of these cursed giant things that weigh more than a wagon."

"Where?" the ranger asked. He looked around but saw only the two. Talberth stood before the one they'd come through and Ivo waited at the other which the wizard had asked them to investigate.

"I just was looking for you to tell you about a door. That one!" Harald pointed toward Ivo.

"That's not what I'm talking about," the halfling shook his head. "It's that one behind the manticore pelt."

"I don't see a door," the ranger peered at the wall.

"That's why I 'm telling you about it," Harold said with frustration. "Do you have a brain in that big head of yours. The door is hidden, that makes it all the more intriguing."

***

"So I cut off its tail and then I saw the door," Harold finished.

Telenstil had lowered himself down the wall and was cutting the bottom of the map east to west, following Gytha's good advice. He stopped and looked down at the halfling, "A hidden door you say."

He glanced at the wall, "Talberth is guarding the entrance. Gytha please go with our two Harrys and check into this. And Ivo," he turned his head toward his left and spoke to the old gnome. "Please ask Henri and our two scouts to check into that room there. Tell them it should be the chief's private storeroom; that should motivate the scouts at least."
                                                                                                  
"Who do you want me to follow?" Ivo asked.

"Best to stay here and keep an eye on everyone else while I am distracted with this map," Telenstil said and began cutting the map free once more.

* * *

"Henri!" Ivo called up to the table top. "Henri, I hate to break into your meditations but if you would be so kind..."

"Yes, master gnome," Henri called down from above. He dropped nimbly from the table's edge onto a chair and then lowered himself to the ground.

'That mask and robe,' Ivo thought to himself, they always make me think that this arrogant priest is older than I, and his manner, always the wise elder to the untried youth. Ivo gave a scowl, he'd not been so irritated by anyone in years and never by someone he had to trust with his life.

* * *

"Here it is," Harald said standing before the manticore hide.

"Pull that ugly skin away," said Harold.

The ranger reached up and tugged at with two hands. The hide was firmly nailed and tough as armor. Gytha grabbed the other side and they both pulled. It tore apart without a sound in two long splits that ran across the top where nails had been driven through each shoulder of the skin.

"I love these giants," Harold smiled up at his friends, "So trusting. No locks, not even on a door they thought to hide."

* * *

"Here, it is here." Engenulf was bled white by the spirit hand. He staggered, still on his own feet, but with each step he wavered more and more. He tore the skeletal bones from their parasitic grasp and flung them at a slab of rock, one no different from a hundred others along the rough hillside. The hand shattered; an explosion of splintered bone and a gallon of the witan's blood, the stone flickered and became clear. A mist appeared, it wrapped itself in circles, first rising high, then dropping down then twisting in a spiral; A spiritual force entwined with arcane magics, a guiding will that ground against an impersonal device. There was a howl which could be felt in a;; pf the giants' bones, the wolves joined in and added an ear-piercing cry to the shrieking grate as two mystic forces met. Nosnra clapped his hands against his ears but his body shook and sweat dropped from his brow, his eyes rolled back showing white, lined with bloody red. The pain began behind his eyes, his teeth ached deep; each nerve pulsed alive and throbbed, a jagged anguish. Around him the wolves thrashed and snarled, they whined and snapped, some ran away, others fell unconscious to the oerth. His giant warriors fared the same, they did not run, but could not stand. Gosfrith shook upon the ground and spat white foam out upon his beard. The witan lay still, blood poured from deep gouges in his wrist and hand. The hill giant chief was the last upon his feet, he screamed defiance into the starry night, the pain went on till he could not see, but he would not fall or turn away.

* * *

The door swung open quietly on oiled hinges. Harold darted in before the rest and nearly tripped over a wooden branch left carelessly on the floor.

"So what's in here," asked the ranger. "What treasures have you found?"

"Firewood," the halfling laughed, "and a staircase leading down."

"Firewood! I could roof a hall with beams such as those," Harald laughed in return pulling at his greying beard.

"Those stairs... We should see what lies below," said Gytha. "There is nothing else in this room but fuel."

"These aren't stairs, they're cliffs," Harold stood upon the top stair's edge and peered down. Each step was almost half his own height.

"You can ride on my shoulder. It's an easy drop," said Harald.

"For you, they're seem deep as a pit trap to me," the halfling replied.

Gytha shook her head, impatient with the two friends banter. The steps were deep, made for the giants who were twice the height of most men, but no real impediment to the nimble halfling. She hopped down one step then another and turned back to her companions, "Are you two coming or should I go alone."

"Well then," said Harold turning to the ranger, "we can't let her show us up," and graceful as a street tumbler began to leap down from step to step himself.

* * *

The smell of smoke drifted in around the door. Talberth sniffed and put out his hand. The door was hot, the iron handle warm to the touch. Dark fingers of smoke crept between the upper edge of door and frame. They crawled to the roof and danced about, soon joined by a steady stream, long black tendrils sneaking through the cracks. Talberth knew fire well, but had no spell but one to resists its flames, yet it was the smoke which killed. This vast room would fill quick enough if the hall beyond had been set aflame.

* * *

"It will take us forever to climb back up," Harold complained. He looked up the curving set of stairs.

"I'll toss you up," the ranger laughed.

"Quiet," Gytha scolded them. "You two are worse than my young brothers."

The stairs emptied into a long unlit hall.

"It's dark down here," said Gytha. "

"Light enough for me," said Harold who had the dark vision of his kind. "Don't strike a flint or use a lightstone."

"I'm no fool," the Harald replied gruffly. "Is that a glow down there?"

The corridor ran straight and at its end a large square glowed faintly, a far off light illuminating an open door or arch.

"Very perceptive," the halfling said. "Firewood upstairs, it's probably where they store their beer."

"Beer?" Harald perked up at the word.

"If we find any they'll be none for you," Gytha warned him. "I've seen you in your cups."

"I've heard these giants draw a potent brew," the ranger smacked his lips at the thought. "I'll take a skinfull back."

"You two stay here," Harold told them and crept silently down the hall. He slid along the western wall and ran a hand across the floor. He felt no hidden lines or cracks, no thread-thin wire to trip or trigger an alarm. From his vest he pulled a metal case and opened it. Inside was a small silver mirror with a handle which folded out. He made it a halfling's handbreadth long then turned the mirror back at an angle to see into the room beyond the outlined open square. The light was dim; a single torch set far down a northern wall and far, far to the west, a distant sparkle near to the ground, the twinkle of gems, or glass more likely. Otherwise the huge vault-like room was empty. The floor showed dust but a cleared path ran from this open square and curved to the southern wall. Cautiously Harold turned the mirror back and forth, then up toward the ceiling, a vaulting roof.

He crept forward into the room, but as his hand felt for traps he touched deep gouges worn into the stone floor. The gouges were several fingers deep and wider than his palm. Harold swept his hand back and forth and found another then another still. The gouges formed a line across the doorway. Harold looked up but could see nothing along the inside of the arch. Heavy spikes, he thought, and stepped back into the hall. A trap, how was it triggered? What did it release? These giants were not subtle; this trap seemed out of place. Harold slid back down the wall. He checked the floor for traps again but found no other sign.

"What did you find?" asked the ranger and Gytha both.

"A trap of some kind, but these giants build too high," Harold replied.

"Can we help?" Gytha asked.

"Yes. I don't run away from traps. Come on, the hall is clear at least, I've checked it twice."

"All this crawling about," said Harald. "I don't like it at all."

"You'd like falling in a pit even less," said Harold.

"I can find my way," the ranger answered back.

"In the woods, maybe, but here, with stone halls and locks and traps made of steel and springs.... I think not," the halfling smugly said.

"Must you two argue over every little thing?" Gytha asked exasperated.

"Yes," said Harold. "Come on then, follow me."

The three, ranger, cleric, thief, walked down the hall with care. 

***

"Now hold me up," Harold stood upon the ranger's hands and, with one hand of his own, held tightly to the wall. "Carefully, carefully... "

Even up as high as Harald could stretch his arms the arch was out of reach, and in the dim light, out of sight as well. The halfling Harold would have to climb.

The walls were old, the stone finely set, but cracks had formed and what was nothing more than a groove or line between the blocks in these giants' eyes was hold enough for the halfling to use. He pulled himself up by hand then found a foothold and pushed away from the ranger's grasp.

"Be careful," Harald called up. Harold looked down and stuck out his tongue, then went back to work and climbed. Above the arch he hung on the wall with ease and pulled a small iron spike from a loop set in his belt. It had an eyehole and through it he strung a line of rope, thin and fine, but strong, with a supple feel that did not cut or pinch the hand. He had six such spikes each held in place by a small loop along the inside of his belt. Harold gave the spike he held a kiss then placed it against a line between two blocks and said a word. "Zfiri," the spike whirred in his hand like some captured bee and burrowed in between the stones. The halfling let himself drop and gave both Gytha and his ranger friend a start, they thought he'd slipped.

The rope played down and Harold pulled himself along the inside of the arch. It felt smooth, no sign of holes or traps. He felt along its edge and at its apex he came across a latch.

"Stand back," he hissed to the pair below, "back, go back a bit down the hall."

"What is he up to?" Gytha asked. The ranger merely shrugged but took a good step back.

Harold climbed above the arch and pulled out a long thin bar shaped as an L. With slow care he slid the metal bar between the stone and metal latch then with a twist the latch popped free and the whole bottom of the arch swung loose. There must be hinges on the far side, he thought, but a rattling vibration nearly shook him from the wall. A thick set of bars came rumbling down and sparked against the stone floor. The room beyond was sealed.

Gytha and Harald both jumped back as the bars crashed with a great stuttering roar then smashed hard and loud, heavy iron meeting stone.

"What did you do?" Gytha yelled up at the thief.

"I thought as much," Harold said then with a smug look glanced down. "I knew there was a trap."

"That's just great," the ranger said, his hopes of beer now dashed. "Why did you have to trigger it!"

"Don't shout," Harold moved across the upper wall till he found his spike again. "Xo!" he said and the spike twirled out and lay still within his hand. "I will be down in a moment."

Harald grabbed the thief as soon as he came near enough and placed him on the ground like a kitten pulled from a tree.

"Watch your grip," Harold complained. "I'm no sack of ale to have my innards all squeezed out."

"Sorry," said Harald slightly abashed. "Now how are we going to get in there?"

"We are not," Gytha told them. "We've spent more time here than we have to spare."

* * *

"Telenstil!" Talberth gave the mage a shout. "Telenstil, I think we may have a problem here."

Ivo came running over at the wizard's call, but as low to the ground as the old gnome was he still smelled the smoke and looked up to see it coming in above the door. "It seems that your spell has had a greater effect than expected."

"I did not think these walls would catch," said Talberth.

"I would not have thought so either," Ivo replied stroking his beard. "That must be quite a blaze out there to burn these damp logs."

"Do you know a spell to turn this smoke aside?" Talberth asked.

"I have no handy spells for this," Ivo said. "I will get our elven friend. His work appears to be just about done."

Telenstil cut away the left supporting side; the map curled in and fell upon the floor still hanging from the right. It would be a huge roll, like a piece of some long carpet that ran down the center of a cathedral or a king's hall. Now that his work was done he looked for someone to help him with the map. To his right, along the eastern wall, the lower door was open and he could hear the sound of movement from within. A little further to the north stood Talberth and Ivo before the entranceway. They seemed concerned and turned to look at him.

"Telenstil!" Talberth called again, and motioned for him to approach.

With a sidelong look the elf left the map behind lying crumpled on the floor.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Look up," said Talberth pointing to the roof.

"Ahh! Yes I see," Telenstil looked at the smoke. "Move back and open up the door."

Ivo raised an eye, but backed away.

"I will need to remove the spell that holds it closed," said Talberth. "An-Ek-O," he said then stepped back. "Now?"

"Now we open up the door," said Telenstil.

"I have a spell, but it takes a bit of power. I hate to waste it just to open up a door," said Talberth.

"You two! Wizards, hrumph!" Ivo rolled his eyes. He walked to where he'd left his pack and pulled out a rope and an iron spike. The rope he knotted round the spike; removed a hand axe from his belt then went over to the door. The gnome hammered in the spike with a few hard raps then with both hands gave it several pulls. The spike held firm. "Come on, you are both tall enough to reach. Turn the handle."

Talberth reached up but did not touch the metal latch, he jerked back his hand and spit. The gob sizzled when it hit. "Whew!" he said aloud, grateful to have spared his fingers from a burn.

"Use this," said Ivo standing near. The gnome held out an empty leather pouch.

"Thanks," Talberth put the pouch over his hand then turned the latch, the door opened a crack. A stream of smoke poured in. It swept up toward the roof, a dark thick haze.

"Quickly now!" said Telenstil.

Ivo and Talberth pulled upon the rope and the door swung open wide.

"Zina-Metali!" Telenstil called and threw a square-cut iron sheet, no bigger than his palm. It disappeared into the wall of smoke that poured in from the burning hall and then it filled the open space of door. A smooth iron valve, no hinge or handle showing, squeezed tight between the wooden doorframe. A tiny cloud, all that passed before the metal formed, rose in a puff and hung about the ceiling high above.

"Very impressive," said Ivo. He reached out and gave the metal wall a rap with his knuckles. It gave out a solid sounding gong. "Makes me wish my own craft was a bit more substantial at times."

"Speaking of time, I think we have a little more," said Telenstil. "But that fire may get out of control and I don't want either the map or us burnt up."

"Hear, Hear!" Ivo agreed heartily.