The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - 2020 - Part 9

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 9

"Can you walk?" Gytha asked Jalal.

The old man still lay on the floor with his back propped up against a wall. He breathed deeply and seemed asleep till Gytha spoke, but then his eyes opened, lively and bright.

"I don't know," he said. "I will try."

With a groan he shifted onto his side and got to his knees, Gytha reached out to help, but Ghibelline put his hand on her shoulder and drew her back. Jalal's bones creaked as he stood, and he used his hands braced against the stones so that he could straighten up, but when he faced them it was with his shoulders back and his pride in place.

"We must go," said Telenstil.

"I have a friend here..." Jalal began.

"I am sorry, we have also lost companions, the one who was left here and another, but we cannot stay," Telenstil explained.

"There are places we could hide, and the orcs, they are in rebellion, we could enlist their aid," said Jalal.

"I am afraid that we have had a confrontation with the orcs. They will not help us," Telenstil told him and shook his head sadly.

Jalal sagged a bit at the news, but caught himself and addressed Telenstil once more, "I cannot abandon my friend."

"We may be able to return. I had not planned to leave entirely, but this foray, we have stayed much longer than I had thought to," said Telenstil. "Come with us now and we will try to help your friend and rescue our companion."

"I will come. You promise to return?" Jalal asked.

"I can only promise that we will try," said Telenstil. "I cannot even promise that we can escape."

"Come Jalal, we cannot leave you here. We will do all that we can," said Ghibelline. "That I promise."

"Then we had best leave," said Jalal.

"Is there another way out of here?" asked Gytha.

"No, there are tunnels that have been started and a warren of caves where the orcs hide, but the stairs are the only way that I know of to leave the dungeons," Jalal told them.

"Harald," Telenstil called to the ranger as they left the cell. "We are taking Derue, please help him up, but be careful. I think he is awake, but pretends to still be senseless."

"If he is dangerous, why not leave him here?" asked the thief.

"He is not himself," Gytha said. "There is a spirit within him."

"How do we know?" Harold asked, still questioning the sense of dragging the scout along. "He has always been a suspicious sort. I have never trusted any of them, him, his brother or that priest who employed them."

"And now they are all gone or mad," added Talberth.

"I would suspect them more if they were still here or if they had showed us a pleasant and friendly face at the start," said Telenstil. "They have been honest with us, I feel. I did not like them, but they did not break their faith with us, at least not till they found those weapons that the giants hid."

Harald went to retrieve Derue and he found the scout still out cold and breathing stentoriously through his open mouth. The ranger reached down and grabbed him by the belt, hauling Derue up into the air. As his feet left the ground the scout spun and placed a kick against the ranger's leg, just missing the knee.

* * *

Harald dropped to the ground as Derue's kick sent his leg out to the side but failed to break the thick bone. The ranger let himself fall forward. He slammed Derue face first into the stones and brought his other knee down hard against the scout's back. Dazed, the scout moaned and tried to wriggle free. Harald grabbed a handful of his hair and bounced Derue's forehead on the hard rock, knocking the man cold.

"You were right," Harald called to Telenstil. "This time I'm tying his feet. I'll have to carry him."

"Are we ready?" Telenstil asked.

There was a murmur of assent, the little thief started off first through the vast and almost empty hall. The orcs had gone, but they had left the bodies of their dead behind, several dark lumps of flesh and cloth left lying by the walls and a carpet of dead, the bodies thick, one against the other, where Talberth's magic bolt had slain them by the score. The group stayed together, Harald carried the scout like a sack of grain across his wide shoulder, Ghibelline and Gytha helped Jalal keep the pace, the old man had his arms around the elf and cleric's necks. They half carried him, but Jalal barely weighed a thing, he was only skin stretched over bone. Before they reached the stairs Harold came running back, he waved to them to stop and rushed up to Telenstil.

"There are orcs ahead, a small group waiting on the stairs," Harold reported. "They didn't look threatening. They look more like a group of beggars in a marketplace."

"Let us proceed with care," said Telenstil.

"Let's get out of this hall," said Talberth, "and up from this dungeon."

The ranger unslung Derue when they reached the arch before the stairs, leaving him leaning against the wall.

"Ho there!" he called in the orc tongue, but he received a reply in the common traders' language used across the Flanaess.

"You there," the voice called out. "We wait for you. We had deal. You lead us out."

"I had no deal with you!" Harald called back.

"Not so loud!" the voice hissed back. "I come down, you no kill." The orc dropped down the stairs and walked into the light. He was the one called Boss, but his followers had almost all deserted him, a bare half-dozen remained waiting up the stairs.

"I deal with that one," Boss said pointing to Derue. "He make deal. We help, you help."

"The orc is correct," spoke up Jalal. "Your companion promised to help them, as he promised Ghibelline and myself."

"Then we will accept their help, and help them as well," said Telenstil.

"Help these monsters?" Harold spoke up surprised.

"There are worse than orcs about, and they are no friends of the giants," the ranger said.

"Come, we delay ourselves for nothing," said Telenstil. "We will honor our companion's word. Let us be out of here."

The ranger nodded to the orc. "We will help you. Carry this one," Harald said pointing to Derue. "He made the offer. He is your burden."

The orc beckoned to his companions and the other orcs came down the stairs. They waited for the Telenstil and the others to climb, following last carrying the still unconscious body of the scout. 

***

A swirl of smoke rose up from the steading. Inside the thick, dark cloud sparks danced, the fragments of cloth and hide lifted up by the heat burning to charred fragments and falling down like a black snow across the fields. The light rain that fell ran into the gullies and fed down into the stream below the hill. The waters were stained and filled with soot washed from the grass and weeds.

At the steading a wall crashed in with a roar, a red eye winked up at the clouds which hid the stars, but the rain closed it with a lid of steam and smoke. In the sudden flash of the wooden beams, dried out by the heat and now burning deep orange-red to the heart of each trunk, the giants, their allies and their slaves could be seen fighting to save their home and kill the fire which consumed it. Scores of orcs wielded shovels or even lengths of wood, scooping wet dirt upon the fire. They worked so close to the flames that their skin was blistered and their bodies painted black with dirt and ash. Beside them were ogres and, careless of where they trod, the giants went back and forth, some with shovels of their own throwing heaps of oerth and others with buckets the size of tubs or kegs, big enough to hold a man, filled with water from the well. Many orcs died that night, lobbed into the flames by a giant lifting both oerth and orc, or crushed beneath a careless foot. The keep itself was half empty, the great hall deserted, the barracks abandoned now, but nearer to the fire there was a frantic haste to rescue possessions from the chambers of the chieftainess and lead the young and babes safely from their rooms.

Only the giants' kitchen showed signs of life. A smattering of orcs, most in ones and twos ran loose. Some fled into the great hall, but it was thick with smoke and the northern wall was ablaze, dark clouds billowing through cracks where the logs had split. From here they made their way down the long hall and out into the entrance way, only to be swept up into the frenzied retreat. Ogres and giantesses threw piles of cloth, handfuls of possessions, or sacks almost as big as the orcs themselves, into their arms. These orcs who had rebelled against their masters, slain the keeper and his bestial pets, were made to haul and carry what they could from the burning rooms. Once outside they threw down their burdens by the growing heap and, unnoticed, slipped away. The kitchen grew quiet again, the frantic haste inside the eastern most part of the hall still unburnt began to lessen, and finally, from the stairs inside the giants' pantry, a small group crept out.

* * *

"I'm not taking that chain," said Harald.

"It might be important," Ivo told him.

The ranger shook his head in disgust. He was tired, perhaps more than any of his companions. Though he was a man stronger than most any other, he had done much this night to drain his strength and now his muscles burned and ached. He wanted rest, even without sleep he wanted just to wrap himself in a warm fur and stretch himself out on the ground. Instead he carried a heavy pack, and his weapon, which he bore with a loving pride and joy, was a heavy blade as well as cumbersome. The chain weighed as much as a man. It lay there looking twice as heavy with its thick black links coiled one on the other in a heap.

They stood within the giants' pantry, not so exposed as they had been in the great chamber below, but a perilous place where enemies could rise up from the stairs or come walking through the door. The little thief expected such. He stood by the half open pantry door and kept watch, but his ears listened for the tread of feet on the stairs or a shout from his other companions that enemies had caught up with them again.

* * *

"The air is thick," said Ghibelline.

"Yes," replied Ivo. "It is worse now, the fire must be spreading. It was not this bad downstairs."

"Could be that they are putting out the blaze," said Harald. "Fire smokes the worse when it is being killed." The ranger felt his muscles pull as he lifted the chain from the floor and wrapped it across his shoulders and behind his neck. "You owe me for this wizard," he said to Talberth.

"It will prove its worth. I have no doubt," Talberth told him smugly.

"What is the best way out of here?" Gytha asked Telenstil.

The elf had taken out his small map again and poured over it thoughtfully.

"We are not going to trust that map again are we?" asked Talberth.

"It has its inaccuracies, Talberth," said Telenstil. "But it has also proven true in some regards. There should be a hall beyond these doors and at its end a large room that has access to a wide yard, and beyond that a gate."

"What about the kitchen?" asked Gytha. "Those chimneys, they are wide enough to drag up a horse. We could climb them. The rope should still be hanging down that shaft we climbed before."

"Not more climbing," said Harald.

"I like it better than walking into a room full of giants," Gytha replied.

"Well let's do something," Talberth said impatiently, growing tired of all the talk, and nervous, standing in the giants' pantry.

"We will try the door and the gate to the yard," Telenstil said firmly. "We can always come back, but you are right, we had best make our escape now while we have the strength and some magical resources still left to us."

Harold heard what was said and drifted outside the door, checking the corner of the kitchen where the exit to the passage lay. The massive portal was shut, it stood next to the half-open entrance to the pantry but the halfling could not reach the latch, let alone budge the huge wooden door. "Here," Harold called to the others as they began to assemble setting packs on their shoulders and making sure their weapons were at hand. "I need one of you tall ones to check this lock or help me up so I can check it."

"Ok," the ranger answered, but Talberth stepped forward instead.

"You keep hold of that chain," said Talberth. "I can help open a door or even lift up our thief."

"How about you carry the chain?" the ranger answered back.

Talberth ignored him and went to help the thief. The others stayed just inside the pantry, both Ivo and Telenstil now peering out, while Talberth and Harold examined the door which opened onto the hall. The little thief was pressed against the wood, a small crystal cup held up to his ear.

"Do you hear anything?" asked Talberth.

"Shhh!" Harold hissed then listened for a moment longer. "Nothing but you, me, and that gaggle in the pantry."

Talberth reached up. The latch was higher than his head, but not out of reach. It was a simple affair, just a metal bar with a handle that fell in place between a bracket set on the frame. When Talberth pushed it up, the door was released, the hinges gave a long groaning creak and it swung a bit toward them, opening into the kitchen. 

***

Metal collected a coating of rust easily and quickly in the damp environment of the steading. Hardly a day went by without a light rain or a cloudy mist sweeping across the hilltop, and the air within the hall always had the smell of damp earth, firesmoke and mold. The hinges on the giants' door were eaten with the stuff, dull red on grey-black iron. They ground open with a banshee's cry as Talberth pulled the door aside. The mage had to lean and put his shoulder against the edge and strained to open the door wide enough for the party to pass. Harold put his hands against his ears and clenched his teeth at the sound. Surely any passing monsters would hear that noise like the warning cry of some undead guardian, thought Harold.

Talberth peered down the corridor revealed by the open door. There were torches set beside it and another pair much further along where the passage narrowed, between them the hallway was dim, but also empty, much to the mage's relief. To his left the hallway turned and went around a corner, he took a step outside the kitchen and crept toward the turn. A small hand pulled at his robe and Talberth nearly jumped.

Harold put a finger to his lips then gestured for the wizard to stay back. The little thief took a small wooden pipe from his pocket and lowered himself to the floor. Creeping on hands and knees he dropped flat at the corner then placed the pipe to his eye. Inside were set small mirrors that let him scan the corridor around the corner without putting his head at risk. A quick check and Harold was on his feet, he looked back toward the mage and waved for him to bring the others, the way ahead was clear.

"The hall is clear," Talberth said to Telenstil.

"Good, then let us be on our way," the elf replied.

He left the pantry followed by the gnome, behind him came Harald and Gytha then the orc called Boss by his fellows. Four orcs followed, they held the senseless Derue on their shoulders. They'd tied him to a pair of spears and carried him like a carcass being taken home to the tribal cooking pot. Last came the shadow of an orc, a thin emaciated runt, called Little Rat by his brethren. The orc was but a child, grown old in the slave pens of the giants.

There was a door along the bottom of the turn, but no other nearby, only a huge set of double-doors at the north end of the corridor.

Harold listened at the nearby door, he heard nothing, the passage was silent, but the smell of smoke was stronger, and high above the little thief there was a growing haze, dark near the upper beams, still clear at a human's height, but drifting down, a dark cloud descending. He waited till the others appeared, then spoke in a hushed voice to Telenstil. "I'll go on ahead, you might as well follow, no place seems safer than another and I may need you if there are giants behind that door."

Telenstil nodded to the thief, Harold set off, the three mages, human, elf and gnome right behind him. The passage was long, but they were eager to be free of Nosnra's hall and soon were standing at the door. Harold listened, he could hear some sounds, but distant, not just shrouded by the wood but loud voices and noises that were far off, or so he thought.

"Talberth," Harold said to the mage, "you need to get the latch."

Talberth felt his mouth go dry, they had run into few giants within the hall, they must be somewhere, maybe behind this door, the thought went through his head. It felt like the world had stilled as he reached for the latch, the click it made was like the clash of swords, and as he pushed against the wood, the hinges screamed, the banshees howled again. 

***

Svar jangled the bone dice in his hand, his cousin Dazh laughed, but Dajd, Dazh's brother looked anxious. They had been sent with a score of orc slaves to empty the giantesses' quarters. The three ogres had the orcs hard at work but did nothing but gamble themselves.

"What-ja worried about, Dajd. we're supervisen'," Svar said and rolled the dice.

Dazh laughed again, a deep bass rumble.

"Any of them find us here and it'll be our arses," Dajd said and kept looking at the outer door.

The orcs had just left with another load. They'd kept the door to the yard open to make it easier for them to go in and out and save the ogres the trouble of getting up from their game.

"Their nibs is all too busy," said Svar as he rolled two skulls, two shields and a severed hand.

Dazh cursed and picked up the dice. It was a hard roll to beat.

"They'll want their stuff and them orcs, they aint gonna get half of this trash outta here before the fire eats it," said Dajd.

"You worry too much," Svar told him.

Dazh shook the dice in both hands listening to them rattle back and forth then tossed them into the circle they'd traced on the floor. The bones turned, one skull, then a second, then a third, Dazh couldn't believe his luck, then a shield and the last die came to rest with a grinning skull face up.

"Read em and...." Dazh started to say with a deep laugh, but as his words came out a groaning creak brought his head up and froze the rumble in his throat.

"Bloody Hell!" cursed Dajd.

Svar swept the dice aside with the back of his hand and stood up. He grabbed the wooden chest he'd been using as a stool and made a bee line for the outer door, nodding his head respectfully to the giants coming in from the kitchen passageway. He'd taken only a step or two before he stopped and with a start turned back to face the door.

Talberth pushed the door inward, but not full open, just wide enough to slip inside. He leaned his head around the edge and glanced back and forth, giant beds he saw, huge chests, a table big as a wagon, an ogre carrying a wooden box, it gave him a respectful nod... The mage almost nodded back.

Talberth's eyes went wide; the ogre turned its head away and took another step. Behind it came another and a third which walked straight into its companion's back when the second ogre stopped suddenly in its tracks and stared wide-eyed at the human staring back. When Talberth pushed the door aside Ivo walked past and into the room beyond. He'd barely turned his head when he heard Talberth draw his breath in a whistling stream. Ivo glanced up and followed the direction of Talberth's eyes, then saw the ogres standing frozen in the middle of the room.

Ivo had kept a spell prepared, a crystal rod; inside, the tails of a hundred fireflys, and as he waved it in the air the rod began to glow.

"Stay back. Do not look," Ivo said in a muffled voice and began to weave the rod in an endless loop. The greenish light began to leave a glowing trail, an ouroboros, a snake of light that went on and on as it ate its own tail.

The staring ogres froze in place. Svar dropped the wooden box. It crashed to the floor with a bang and the sound of breaking glass. Dazh had his mouth half open, a long drop of drool hung down from his lip, it stretched halfway to the floor before it broke. Dajd wiped a hand across his eyes, but he too became enraptured by the twisting glow, he lost his balance and sat down on the floor, but never took his eyes away.

"Quick!" Ivo called to the others behind the door. "They are powerless while I weave this spell."

 * * *

"Keep your eyes to the ground!" Ivo shouted at the others.

Harold slipped around the door and stood behind him; with his head lowered he could see the edges of a glowing whirl and the movement of Ivo's hand.

"Stay behind me, I'm going to move forward," Ivo called without looking. He took slow careful steps, all the while moving the glowing wand in its twisted pattern that drew the ogres' dazed attention.

Telenstil and Talberth came next, but the elf turned his former apprentice back to face the others coming through the door.

"Have them keep their eyes to the ground," Telenstil said, relaying Ivo's warning. "If any do become enmeshed in Ivo's spell you must block their sight to free them." The elf put a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes, then followed the path that Harold took, going wide and steering clear of Ivo's spell. When he passed the ogres he let his glance rise up and watched the outer door.

Harold went over to the open portal. He crouched low and stared out into the night. An orange glow lit the door and the room was slowly clouding with smoke from the burning hall. Outside, the yard was filled with yelling giants, the crackle of the wood being eaten by the flames and shadows dancing back and forth. Harold could see no-one nearby. The fire burned the eastern wing, a hundred feet away or more, and the giants, their slaves and allies were surrounded by the smoke and flames.

"Harold, what do you see?" asked Telenstil. 

"Our little wall of sparks has grown and it is keeping the giants busy,"
Harold told the mage. "I can see the outer gate," he pointed to his left. "I could hit it with a knife from here."

"Very good," said Telenstil. He glanced to his side, an ogre was only an arm's length away, but still mesmerized by Ivo's swirling spell. "Harold, help me bind these brutes."

"Why not just cut their ugly throats?" Harold asked.

"We should, but I am sick of this killing," Telenstil replied. "We can bind them easily and be gone before they are free."

"If that is how you feel, you're the chosen leader," said Harold, "but I say take a knife to them now and we will not face them later."

"Let us try it my way for now. Later we will see the result," Telenstil said. He drew a length of cord from his pouch and used a small knife to cut off several lengths.

"What is going on?" asked Gytha.

Telenstil had not heard her approach, or the ranger who came stomping by, the chain, his sword and pack weighing him down.

"What is going on?" Harald asked coming near to Telenstil and Gytha.

"I just asked that," said Gytha with a laugh.

"Harold and I are binding these ogres," said Telenstil. "The door is open and the outer gate just outside."

"We'd better hurry. How long can Ivo keep them bespelled?" asked Gytha.

"I will check the gate," said Harald. The ranger did not wait for a reply but went to the open door.

"Long enough I hope," said Telenstil. He nodded to the thief. "Can you help Harold?"

"Wait," said Harold. "You help tie these ogres and I'll check the gate."

"No, no," Gytha waved her palm toward Harold. "You are good with knots, and I think I can be more help with the gate. I'll take these orcs with me."

As they spoke the first of the orcs crept across the room. 

***

"You two, follow me," Gytha commanded the orcs. She started toward the door, but neither followed. "What are you waiting for?"

"They've looked at the gnome's charm," said Ghibelline. The elf walked slowly, half carrying Jalal, he'd drafted the aid of a small orc to help.

"Great," Gytha shook her head. "Harald don't go just yet."

The ranger was happily letting down the heavy chain. As the last links fell from his shoulder he stretched out his arms and groaned. "Gytha, it is best if I check the gate alone," said Harald. "Too many of us might alert the giants."

"Don't take any risks," Gytha called to him.

"Just being here is risk enough, do not worry," Harald said to Gytha. He peered around the corner of the door then slipped outside.

"Ghibelline, help me with these orcs," said Gytha.

"You hold up my friend here, understand?" Ghibelline asked the small orc.

The orc runt called Little Rat gave the elf a nod and braced its arm around Jalal's waist, holding up the frail old man alone.

* * *

Outside, the giants had dug great pits and trenches across the yard near the burning walls. Already the blackened embers that had been the chief's private hall were cooling beneath the dirt and the drizzling rain. The fire had not yet died. Its red tongue had licked the beams of the great hall and still danced along the inside of the roof. A huge timber that spanned the ceiling had fallen, smashing tables and benches beneath it, and leaving a long splintered swath of smaller beams above. The hall roof began to sag, but the supporting columns, mighty tree trunks still round but shaven of their bark, kept it from falling while any of the beams still held. The walls had fallen, from the hidden stairs beside Nosnra's private eating hall where the company had first descended, to the chieftainess' chamber at the far end of the trophy hall, the furthest eastern edge of the steading.

Estrith, the chieftainess, had her maids and the orcish slaves struggle the hardest to save her rooms, but to no avail. They put out the fire but Estrith's chamber was lost, three walls and the roof collapsed. The trophy hall was gone, the western passage burnt away and the doors leading to the childrens' room and the maids' chamber blocked by falling half-burnt beams.

To the north, among the ruins of the chief's private chamber, the giants were just stumbling across the huge iron wall, created by magic and left fallen across the floor when the walls came down. The giants still fought the blaze using shovel-loads of dirt, long spears and axes to push and chop the fiery wood away from the unburnt walls and roof. None of the giants, the ogres or their orc slaves noticed the lone human who opened the northern gate then ran back inside through the servants' door.

* * *

"Come quick!" Harald yelled to them. "The way is clear. The gate is open, come." He glanced into the room and caught a glimpse of the whirling pattern that Ivo weaved. Harald turned away but had to shake his head and rub at his eyes to clear them of the mesmerizing gleam.

"You can cease your weaving, my friend," Telenstil called out to Ivo.

The mage had bound the ogres with the assistance of the thief, tying their hands and ankles tight with stout cord and gagging them with rags. The group gathered at the door and waited for the word to make their escape from the steading. Talberth, Gytha and Ghibelline shook the orcs free from the grip of Ivo's spell and then helped get them across the floor keeping their eyes from the tantalizing glow.

Ivo let his arm slow to a stop, the magic died, and he put the crystal back safely in his vest. His arm ached, to keep the ogres mesmerized he could not stop or even slow the twisting pattern that had formed the shimmering hypnotic web. While he had been busy weaving his spell he had not felt the strain, but now it came rushing along his arm, it made him gasp.

Suddenly the ogres came alive, they pulled against their bonds, two had been standing, now they fell, trying to free their feet they'd lost their balance. One smashed down face first and lay senseless, not dead, but he would wake with a bruise and a lump the size of a fist atop his head. The other landed with a painful crash, wrenched his shoulder, but still rolled back and forth. The cord was stronger than the thick muscles along the ogre's arms and back, they cut into its hoary flesh, digging bloody grooves deep through its skin.

Harold brought his dagger up and then slammed it down, reversing it in mid-air so that the pommel cracked against the ogre's skull. The monster slumped, its writhing ceased, eyes rolled up to show the yellowish whites, it lay stunned like its companion. The third ogre, the more thoughtful of the three, dropped back and shut its eyes as well, feigning death or sleep. It did not struggle against its bonds as the others had once it saw their fate. The little thief shrugged, he'd have cut their throats and have done with them if he'd had his way. Across from him, Ivo secured his pack and ran over to where Harold stood.

"All ready?" he asked.

"I'm done here," Harold answered him. "Let's go."

"Yes," said Telenstil. "Let us be far from this place and quickly."

* * *

Dark shapes ran out into the night. They left the steading behind and followed the foot trail north, but had nowhere to go. The ranger pushed the gate closed behind them, muttering under his breath at the weighty chain he carried on his shoulders.

"Cursed wizards' toy," he said.

They crossed the hill. There was no cover except for the wild weeds and grass that grew chest high where they had not been beaten down by the passage of the giants. To the south were the lowlands and the way they had come. All around them the mountains towered above the hills; the land became all wild valleys and steep slopes, filled with monsters, home to the giant clans which owed their allegiance to Nosnra, the hill giant chief. 

***

They'd not gone far, just down the giants' hill, through the valley to the north and up a steep cliff. There was no shelter, simply an overhanging ledge of rock that kept the heavy rain off their heads, though the wind swept the mist and droplets beneath their stony roof and slowly soaked them to their skins. Their perch looked south. This hill, a young mountain, was taller than the one that the steading sat upon, but their temporary camp was well beneath the steep summit which looked down upon that hill. Out over the narrow valley a dark smoke could be seen coming from the steading. It stained the early morning sky.

"I am glad for the place to rest, but we are too close," Harold said to Telenstil.

"I know," the elf replied.

The two stood on a sharp-edged rock that jutted out from the hill. Behind them their companions huddled beneath the little shelter that the overhang provided. Most were asleep. The orcs were clustered in a group like a pack of dogs, sleeping side by side for warmth. They had brought no cloaks or blankets and were unprepared for life outside the steading or the dungeons where they had been kept. The elf Ghibelline rested with eyes closed, his friend Jalal lay next to him, the old man slept, but restlessly. Gytha and Talberth slumbered as well, they had meditated when they first made camp then weariness overcame them. Ivo was just as weary as his human friends but he could not sleep. His bones and joints ached; the hard rock and the cold rain made him feel his years. He studied a book made from thin metal plates where he had his spells inscribed; no rain could dampen the silver sheets. An enchanted stone that burned endlessly with light held in a metal sphere lit the book. When turned, the sphere twisted to reveal a hole which could be widened, letting out the light in a thin point or a wide beam. Their companion Derue, now their captive, was awake. He fought his bonds and would have yelled and screamed but they kept him gagged. The spirit which enslaved his mind still bound him tighter than the cords around his hands and feet. Above the ledge the halfling had found a small cave, once the den of some wild animal, it was warm and dry, but not big enough for any others, except the gnome. Ivo had declined. Harold's snores echoed faintly from the walls and drifted down to the others who remained awake below.

"At least someone is sleeping," said Harald. "I can keep watch, you should sleep as well."

Telenstil nodded toward their makeshift camp. "I am tired but I cannot sleep."

"Don't you need to rest, even if you do not sleep my elven friend."

"I will rest," Telenstil replied. He watched the smoke drifting in the breeze; it was still thick and black. "I think we are safe for awhile. The fire still burns. Will there be any steading left for us to search I wonder?"

"Wouldn't that be for the best?" asked Harald.

"Eventually perhaps, but there are questions that have not been answered," said Telenstil. "It is Nosnra and his warriors that are the danger, not his hall."

"Better to fight them in the open," Harald laughed. "I know, I know, there is no good place to fight giants."

"The open is better," said Telenstil. "I don't want to be trapped within the hall fighting at close quarters with a dozen giants all around, but there is more here than Nosnra, more that I was sent to find than I have found so far."

"That map, it didn't answer your questions?" Harald asked.

"It answered some, but raised even more," said Telenstil. "You know some of this, the giants of the ice and snow; they are part of this as well."

"I came across them raiding the lands of the Duchy," said Harald. "They are strange allies, they have far to come and they prefer their chilly climes."

"Yes, it is a strange alliance," Telenstil said thoughtfully. "I see signs in this of a darker force at work, one which I cannot name till I am sure."

"What mystery is this? I was told little. I do not think that even the Duke himself knows much more, but you seem to have some idea," said Harald.

"There are things which I suspect, but they are farfetched," said Telenstil, "Stories which we tell our children when they misbehave. When I know more, when I know that these suspicions are more than stories, I will tell you. For now it is Nosnra that we must fight, but I would like to search his hall."

"If any of it still stands," Harald yawned. "Now I will rest. Wake me after a few hours have passed. I will take the next watch."

***

Ivo put his book away. He closed it with a snap then rubbed his eyes. He would be better for a few hours sleep, but instead he stood up and walked over to the mage. The ranger had just settled down with his pack beneath his head, he was asleep before his eyes closed. Ivo had listened to the talk he'd had with the elven mage then waited for him to sleep before rising himself.

"Telenstil," Ivo said quietly as he approached. "You keep your Queen's instructions well."

"You have large ears my friend," said Telenstil cheerfully.

"Oh I listened in," said Ivo cheerfully. "You two weren't exactly whispering. "Impolite I know, but these are perilous times, and a perilous place in which we find ourselves."

"In some ways things have gone far better than I had imagined they would," said Telenstil.

He kept watch over the steep slope that was the only approach to the ledge where they camped. Ivo sat down next to him, the old gnome let his feet dangle over the edge of the rock and wished he had not left his pipe back at the camp the giants had destroyed.

"I've no fondness for those orcs but they are a improvement over that cursed priest," said Ivo.

"I regret the loss of Henri and the scouts," said Telenstil. "Henri will be missed. We will need the powers he possessed, I do not doubt. It is that map I am pleased with. It showed plans that Nosnra or any giants would undertake. They are not subtle, but whoever is behind them, they are subtle planners indeed."

"They weave a tight web, I agree," said Ivo.

Telenstil did not reply but looked down at his friend with an eyebrow raised.

"We delve deep beneath our hills, and we live close enough to your lands to know your tales," said Ivo. "And we have cousins, gnomes who never see the light of day, but talk of a world beneath ours, where many creatures of brightness have turned dark."

"Maybe you know more of this than I," said Telenstil. "What are these stories that your cousins tell?"

"They are like those that you tell your children when they are bad," Ivo said. "And we held them in as much regard. Not enough it seems."

Telenstil laughed very lightly and quietly. "It seems you also have your secret councils my friend."

"I am like you. I wait to find out more before I put my faith in children's tales," said Ivo.

"We have both come far to seek these answers. Talberth too has traveled far, and our halfling friend, who has big ears as well."

Ivo leaned back and looked at the top of the ledge where a shadow was disappearing back behind the rock.

"Why don't you come down Harold, if you are not going to sleep?"

The little thief came sliding down the wall of rock, then when he was a man's height from the ground, he jumped and landed lightly on his feet.

"You're the one with big ears old gnome," said Harold but in a friendly voice.

"I see it is time for our own council," said Telenstil. "Perhaps we should wake the others."

"Let them sleep," said Harold. "You two want to talk around this business and not through it. All this hogwash of children's tales. My own directions were simple. He called me in..."

"Caught you I believe it was," said Ivo.

"That was simply a misunderstanding. In any case, he said 'Find out what you can,' I'm known for gathering information," the little thief related, his voice growing deep when he mimicked what he'd been told. "About what? I asked. 'About anything' which is usually what his wizardly mightiness commands."

"So what have you found out?" Telenstil asked, his ears perking up with interest at what the halfling might say. 

***

"I've found out to be more careful around this old gnome," Harold nodded toward Ivo. "I've been doing a lot of listening, ever since we left Greyhawk, I wish I was back there now. I've been listening. We are a strange bunch. I know why that old ranger and Gytha are here, but the rest of us..." Harold shook his head. "We have come a long way to fight giants."

"But what have you found out my friend?" asked Ivo. "Have you noticed anything that we have missed?"

"I can only guess what it is that you two know but won't even tell each other," said Harold. "I don't know giants or these mountains..."

"Hills," Ivo interjected.

"Hills, Mountains, a couple a feet of rock and dirt. What do they matter. You want to listen or do you want to argue," the halfling said firmly. He looked from Ivo to Telenstil, but neither did more than smile. "Like I said, I don't know giants but I know locks and I know traps. Down there in that dungeon, those weren't made by the hands' of giants. That secret door, that lock which held it, those were some type of gnomish work. That trap, the one that brought up the gate which held the manticores, and the one before it that I disarmed, those weights and balances, that looks like a dwarven trick, and that treasure. I couldn't tell you how they magicked those traps, but that was a fair piece of work I'd say, magicwise that is," he paused then looked at Telenstil. "Are these giants that spellcrafty? Can they wield the magic that fools the eye and mind like master gnome?" he asked turning to Ivo.

"No," Ivo replied. "I don't believe that they have such craft."

"I think they are aided by someone," Harold went on, "Evil dwarves or gnomes gone mad. I mean what gnome with any sense would aid giants?"

"You feel that it was a gnomish mind behind the traps?" asked Telenstil.

"The work is very fine. I would have liked to take that lock away with me and... Curse me for a fool!" the halfling growled. He grabbed at his wrist and felt the two empty sheaths in the set of six that he wore upon his arm. "Hells!"

"What is the matter?" asked Ivo, alarmed.

"I've left two of my magic spikes behind. One in that ogre, the other in the wall of the garbage chute," said Harold. "I'll never find their like again. Curse that Henri. I would have drawn up that rope if not for him. And curse my bad memory."

"That was a hectic moment, be glad that they served you well," said Telenstil. "They were spent in a good cause."

"We will be going back won't we?" Harold asked, cheered slightly at the thought.

"I will, even alone, but we will need to discuss our plans together," Telenstil said. "I cannot speak for any of our companions."

"I will be going along," answered Ivo, "but we will need to get rid of those orcs, and what are we going to do with our captive scout?"

"We will have to do many things before we return to Nosnra's steading," said Telenstil. "We will need to find a better camp for one."

"I thought our last camp was good," said Harold.

"As did I," Telenstil agreed, "but I underestimated the giants. Our camp should have been further off, and a smaller place found nearby where we could retreat to."

"Yes," Ivo agreed. "Several small camps, things like this ledge... Well better than this ledge," he said after looking around. "But many small hiding places where we would go to once then abandon."

"What is done is done," said Telenstil. "I placed too much confidence in magic wards and spells, and thought the giants' shaman just an unlearned practitioner of the arts. Now we may have to raid the steading for supplies and not just for revenge or answers to our questions."

"Speaking of questions, did you get any answers from what I've seen?" asked Harold.

"Only more questions my friend." laughed Telenstil.

* * *

Nosnra returned. His pace did not quicken at the sight of his burning hall, he had strength enough only to put one foot before the other, his warriors were twice as weary. Some fell along the way and were left lying in the dirt. They would make it back on their own feet or die where they had fallen. The wolves were scattered, a few had died, their spirits shriveled at the cave where the witan was destroyed. Only a young wolf called Harechaser kept up with the staggering line of giants. The canine was of a simple mind, the chaotic torment of the magical and unholy backlash had made it cower, its head buried beneath its paws, but it had passed the ordeal unscathed.

When he saw the fire from the far hill, Nosnra's heart sank, he misstepped and nearly fell but caught himself and shifted Engenulf's body in his arms. Behind him he heard a groan, too heartworn and bone weary to raise a shout or cry, the warriors stumbled to a halt. Nosnra stopped himself, below him the path lead down, a narrow valley, a small stream then the final slope.

There was a gasp, a sob, with a flash of angry strength Nosnra spun around. "Who are you!" he shouted. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept through the giant chief, a dark curtain came down across his eyes, but he fought it back. "I do not know you. You are not my kin. What are you, those feeble children of the lowlands, human scum? You are too tired, you moan and cry because the kindred calls us to their arms?" he shouted at his warriors. "Stay here and die, or run, or swallow your fear and swear an oath. I will find the ones who have brought this doom on us; I will have vengeance no matter what the cost!" Nosnra shouted at the night.

A giant forced himself to walk forward and face the chief. "I swear, my chief, I swear my life, my blood and my strength. Vengeance." the giant placed his hand upon Engenulf's brow and swore. One by one the others came forward as well. A knife was drawn; each gripped the blade and swore again with blood, then painted their faces red, first across their brow, then across the cold lifeless witan's head.