The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - 2020 - part 12

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - part 12

"Where is he?" Talberth yelled. The mage had awakend the orcs and showed them the food which Gytha had set aside. They'd muttered and grumbled, the leader, Boss, had tried to take six shares of eight for himself, till Talberth barked out a stiff rebuke. Now awake, the orcs milled about, eager to be on their way, still terrified of Talberth but certain that the giants would let loose their wolves and hunt them down.

"Up here!" Little Rat yelled out excitedly.

"We were up on the ridge," Harold called from above the camp, "and Harald is right behind us."

"I'll go get Telenstil," Talberth turned away immediately and ran down the small rise that led up toward the halfling and his pet orc.

Just behind the small pair Harald lowered himself carefully from rock to rock. He dropped down the last ten feet, hanging from his hands and landing in a crouch.

 "Harold," he called to the thief, "do they have everything ready?"

"I'm ready," the halfling replied.

"Me too!" chimed in Little Rat.

"I don't know if they are ready down there. Talberth just went to fetch them," Harold nodded toward the camp.

"We need to get moving," the ranger said, "but the only path I found so far won't be easy."

"I didn't find anything but thorn bushes and rocks," Harold shook his head.

"I haven't checked the west. I can do that and the rest of you can start out for the center of the hill," Harald nodded first toward the rising mountains then back at the camp. "The way down starts up there at the eastern crest," he pointed back the way he'd come.

"Or we could wait here for you to find the trail," suggested Harold.

"I'll mention that to Telenstil and see what he says," Harald said to the halfling with a grin.

"Don't bother. I know him too well," said the thief, "no reason to let us rest when we can be stumbling over rocks."

"Maybe," replied Harald, "but we can't stay here."

"You sound like the orcs," the halfling looked down out the small group huddled together just below. "They're scared that Nosnra will send out his wolves."

"They're right," Harald agreed. "I don't know why he hasn't done it already."

"What!" Harold gave a small squeal of alarm.

"We must have caused more damage than I thought," said Harald. "They should have tracked us down by now. Just look over to the south," the ranger gestured toward the giants' hill, "you can almost spit on them from here. If they were looking they'd have found us."

"That is just great," the thief grumbled, "what are we doing standing around. Let's get out of here."

* * *

"There is no path to the west," Harald told them. He had returned to find the others gathered at the center of the hilltop near to the eastern ridge. "I don't like this."

"Yes," said Telenstil, "a trail that leads up, but only the same trail leading back down, and little up here to make the trip worthwhile."

"Nothing except the view," Harald agreed, "but there is no sign of a watchtower or a guard-post."

"A small mystery," smiled Telenstil, "but one we will have to solve at a later date."

"I might notice something that our ranger may have missed," offered Ivo.

"I searched carefully," Harald said looking from Telenstil to the gnome.

"There are things I might see which you would not know to look for," said Ivo. "You know the woods and hills, but I know stone, there may be signs that speak to a gnome, but are silent to a ranger."

"Ivo, no, we have stayed here too long," said Telenstil. "Harald show us this other path."

"It's no path, not even a rabbit trail," Harald said grimly, "I think we can make it down, but it is that or back down the way we came."

"Right into the giants' arms," said the thief. "Are we starting or are we going to stand around?"

"We are starting," said Telenstil. "Harald please lead the way."

The ranger lead them a little north, then up a rise where the ridge was not so high. The crest was where he'd left it, the rock chimney still the same.

"This is the path?" asked Talberth.

"I said it wasn't an easy way," Harald shrugged, "but it is passable. We will need to take some care." As they spoke the little thief swung his legs out over the edge and then began a slow descent, his fingers finding small cracks and his feet resting on the tiny ledges in the wall of rock.

"Harold!" Gytha called to him. "What are you doing?"

"Not wasting time," he called back, "with a lot of talk."

"I go too!" Little Rat said delightedly looking down the crevice. He practically dived headfirst but a huge hand grabbed him by the neck and held him suspended in the air. "Should I let him fall?" asked the ranger good-humoredly.

"Put a rope on him first," Harold yelled up to him. "Don't let him jump. He'll just end up landing on me!"

"Do we have any rope left?" asked Talberth.

"I have some," said Harald.

"As do I," Ivo pulled out a tight coil from his pack.

"Good," said Telenstil. "We can use both."

"I will want mine back," said Ivo. "Not left behind as we did back at the steading."

"Talberth or I can use a spell to descend," said Telenstil, "and lower the rest of you as well."

"Telenstil," Talberth said quietly to the elf, "I'd thought to conserve our spells."

"A good thought," replied Telenstil, "but I believe we can afford to expend this minor magic and save the rope for later use."

"I prefer the rope," said Harald.

"Well, someone tie a rope around this orc and drop him," Harold called from the bottom of the small drop.

Harald still held Little Rat suspended over the crevice and the rocks thirty feet below.

"Drop?" Little Rat asked confused.

"Klaxend," Harald told the orc in his own tongue.

"No drop! No drop!" the young orc cried out and began flailing its arms and legs.

"Harald please put...what are you called?" said Telenstil. "Please put him down."

"Rattklin, me Rattklin," the young orc pointed at himself. The ranger laughed, "That fits."


"He is called Little Rat," Ghibelline explained.

***

They cut a path through the thick underbrush leaving a scar across the slope as if a giant snake had scrapped its belly over the ground. It had not been difficult to lower themselves down the crevice but it had taken time. 

The sun was past its height and sinking behind the hill, but there were some hours left before the night would fall. The ranger grimaced at the tracks they left. He kept up a nervous watch and tried to guide them down the slope, searching for the safest way between the boulders and slabs of rocks or through the bushes, sharp-thorned mostly, that clung to the hillside. Some stumbled; an orc fell to his knees and dropped the end of the pole that he carried on his shoulder. The scout Derue crashed heavily to the ground and gave out a muffled scream. Gytha ran to him and checked the ropes that tied his hands and legs.

"Set him down, carefully!" she told the orcs.

Talberth gestured to them and the orcs obeyed.

"Gytha," asked Talberth, "why are we stopping?"

"These ropes are cutting at him," she said. "He can't be kept tied up all the time, the ropes will cripple his hands and feet, kill him maybe."

Talberth scowled. Better to kill the scout and be done with him he would liked to have said, but he knew Gytha would not approve.

"That had better wait till we are on less precarious ground," said Talberth.

They were halfway down the slope, the hilltop now high above them. The grade was not so steep but there was little cover where they stood. Not far below the grade lessened and the trees began till they filled the valley and ran up the opposing slope. It was all hills and valleys in the lands around the steading.

"We go, we go," one of the orcs dared to say to Talberth.

The fear that they felt for the mage was not as great as that which the thought of the giants instilled.

"Gytha, is there anything that you can do for him while he is still bound?" Talberth asked her. "We must be going and we cannot untie him here."

"I will try to heal him, but I do not like this," she said, "it is too much like torture."

"It is the best we can do," said Talberth, "it is a mercy, at least as much as we can offer."

"I know, but I do not like it," Gytha bent down and put one hand on Derue's wrists where the rope dug past a leather scrap they'd wrapped around his arms. They'd tried to keep the rope from biting, but the leather was pulled tight and had rubbed the flesh raw, a small trickle of blood flowed from his wrists.

"Mercy for the vanquished, dear Saint. Mercy for one taken by the dark, gift me with your healing strength," A gold-green light suffused the wounds, they healed but a red flash struck out like a whip, a deep fiery red like metal pulled from a bed of coals, barbed with flickering needle spikes. It struck the cleric and knocked her back, a line of burnt and bleeding flesh appeared along her hand and arm.

"Gytha!" Talberth cried out in alarm.

Ghibelline came running over to where they stood. He had moved ahead, born to the woods, he helped to find the best way down the hill, but Telenstil had noticed the others lagging behind sent him back to find out what was wrong.

"Gytha!" Ghibelline repeated Talberth's cry.

The two men, though one an elf, stooped beside the fallen cleric. Gytha waved them both away and stood up on her own.

"I'm fine, that spirit of evil inside of him struck back, it did not like the feel of the Saint's power."

"And you want to untie him!" Talberth gasped.

"Gytha your arm," said Ghibelline, "are you badly hurt?"

"No," she said running her fingers beside the wound, "it looks worse than it is."

"You!" Talberth commanded the orcs. "Pick him up and get him out of here. Go on, pick up, pick up," the mage gestured. The orcs obeyed, they barely understood the words, but lift and carry was most of what they did when they were the giants' slaves. 

***

The halfling reached the valley first, followed closely by the small orc. Harold had started down the last sixty feet at a slow walk, but as he moved he picked up speed. Soon he was dodging trees and charging at a galloping run, his short legs taking hopping leaps through the underbrush of shrubs and piled leaves. Little Rat gave a whoop and followed but he fell and began to roll. He whooped some more as he came rolling down, delighted as a child. Luck was with him as he passed between the trees, missed sharp edged stones hidden by the leaves and smashed through bushes that were scattered about the slope. 

Harold heard the thrashing of the bushes as Little Rat mowed them down, the crackle and crunch of leaves, and the barking laughs, loud then muffled as the orc rolled face up and then face down. The thief turned to see the wild flailing orc sweeping down the slope directly for him as if the two were connected by some unseen line. He jumped behind a tree as the orc rolled past, Harold landed in a patch of nettles, Little Rat came to rest in a laughing heap.

"You having a good time?" asked the ranger. He'd followed behind the orc.

"Oh, I'm having a great time, oouuchh!" Harold pulled himself from the thorny patch leaving behind a few long strips of cloth and a smattering of blood.

"Round up your shadow, and keep him quiet," said Harald. "I'm going back up to help the others. You two don't go anywhere. Find someplace to hide and keep watch."

"You try keeping that one out of trouble," complained the thief.

"I don't have to," said Harald, "but you do. Remember I don't want him along."

"You've spent too much time in the woods," the thief retorted. "Now where has he gone?" Little Rat was nowhere to be seen. Harold ran out to where the orc had lain, but there was no sign that he could see. It was all rocks and hard oerth, no tracks that caught his eye. He paused and let his mind turn the trees and stones into a city street, then imagined it a parkland; a lord's preserve within the confines of some garden walls. What looked out of place? What belonged and what might have been disturbed by a passing foot or a careless hand. A patch of leaves overturned, the loam beneath dark and wet and all around it the ground dry, baked by the morning sun. The clump was toward the valley's center, lifted up by a clumsy foot, the orc no doubt. He'd gone ahead. Harold followed half bent to watch the ground. The little orc came whistling up, carefree, happy to be out in the woods even in the light of day.

The noise was painful to Harold's ears, a sharp screeching sound like an animal whining in pain. "Shh!" he hissed at Little Rat. "Where have you been!"

The orc was wet, his head and shoulders soaked still dripping with the water from the stream. "Was thirsty," smiled the orc. "Drink, sun hot, it hurt eyes, cool water."

Harold licked his lips, they were dry; his own canteen was almost empty. There'd been no water on the hill. "Show me where you found this stream," he said to Little Rat. The small orc smiled, pleased not to be punished and happy to show the halfling where the water ran.

* * *

"Where are the others?" asked Harald.

"I sent Ghibelline to find out," Telenstil replied.

Ivo shaded his eyes and looked back up the slope. They stood within the edge of the woods. Behind them, the way they'd come, the hillside was bare except for boulders projecting from the ground and thickets of hearty shrubs. The old gnome could not see past a hedge-like line of thorn-bushes, but Harald and Telenstil could see above these brambles and watched the orcs come down the hill. Further up they could make out their companions, Gytha, Ghibelline and Talberth, following close.

"I wish they were down already," said Harald, worried about unfriendly eyes which might be watching from woods or rocks or a nearby hill.

"So do I," Telenstil turned and looked down the hill. "What about our thief?"

"He made it down," Harald said. He nodded toward the valley floor. "His little shadow too. That is trouble waiting to appear."

"Perhaps," said Telenstil, "but I trust Harold's judgment. There are orcs who dwell peacefully within city walls; he has trained such for his guild."

"Half-breeds mostly," added Ivo. "Orc thieves, now I know I wouldn't care for these cities of yours."

Harald shook his head.

"I'm glad that this is not an age when man fought elf and gnome," Telenstil said sadly.

"You need to spend some time in the wildlands," said Harald, "that would change your mind. You know your friends from your enemies and no mistake between the two."

"I have found friends in some unlikely places," Telenstil told him with a smile.

"Hah! You would have dinner with a troll," snorted Harald. "Ah well, you best wait for the others here. I will check on our thief and scout out the way ahead."

The two wizards watched the ranger leave. He quickly disappeared among the trees, agile as a hare despite his size and advancing years.

"He is right you know," said Ivo. "You have become lax in your ways."

"Less rigid in my thinking," Telenstil said, "that is how I would put it. Yes I have been out in the world and have seen that elves and gnomes and men live in different ways but are more the same than not."

"And orcs?" Ivo shook his head in disagreement. "I am no man or elf, and though we are friends we are different, greatly so, maybe that is why we are friends."

"We will have to disagree," laughed Telenstil, "there is no changing either of our minds."

"That I can agree with," Ivo laughed as well. "But merriment aside, Telenstil we are in a bad way here. Even I can see we are leaving a trail that no one can miss, certainly not the giants."

"Yes, and we are moving too slow," Telenstil agreed. "In a few days' time I will be able to transport us through the air again, but for now we are afoot."

"I thought I would be the slowest of us all," Ivo said wistfully. "Derue is slowing us. If we cannot cure him of his curse we may have to take a drastic step and end him of his life."

"No," said Telenstil firmly, "a fallen comrade, he stood with us and served us well, I cannot repay him in such a way."

"Telenstil this is a war we fight," Ivo looked grim. "Friends and comrades die, sometimes they are left behind. This would be a mercy. And Telenstil, what we do here is for more than just ourselves."

"The giants have not found us yet," said Telenstil. "Ivo, killing Derue is the easy way to solve the problem. He deserves more from us than that. We owe him the risk we take. If the giants track us down, then we will fight. We will save the mercy stroke for then, I will not let him fall into their hands, but I will not take his life to save us time. Nothing will make us safer in this land." 

***

The valley stream was cold, the runoff of mountain ice mixed with the almost daily fall of rain. The orcs had lain upon their stomachs and drank their fill, but the others used their canteens. They refilled them with the cool, clear water and added a few gallons worth to a huge waterskin that the ranger had taken from the giants' hall. There had been some talk at the water's edge, but the sound of something crashing through the trees nearby had silenced it.

They'd made good time, stirred on by a tang of fear, the orcs hadn't even complained. It took an hour to reach the valley's end, the trail diverged, one path heading north straight up another hill, a second heading west along a path cut through the trees and rocks across the slope. They'd passed the bodies of the giants slain by Harald and Telenstil. Ravens, black as night, sat upon the rocks and stared down at the wolves which worried at the corpses of the pair. Harald shouted, the wolves growled but slunk away when the others came along the trail. Their eyes could be seen catching the light while they hid behind the cover of rock and tree. As the last of the party moved beyond the bodies of the giant dead, the wolves came swiftly back to stuff themselves on the cooling flesh.

"Which way now?" asked Harald.

Telenstil pointed to the north, "To the mountains."

"Both ways seem traveled well enough," said Harald. "You know that those giants were headed for these trails."

"Yes, remember what we overheard them say," Telenstil reminded him, "a day's travel at least, at a giant's pace, we should be safe enough."

"You hope!" the ranger exclaimed.

"I do hope, yes I do." said Telenstil. "Every choice is a risk. If we are not attacked tonight then we will be doing well indeed."

"Are we to walk up to the nearest giant's hall and ask to spend the night?" joked Harald.

"Perhaps Ivo could make them think we were giants as well," Telenstil smiled. "But I do not doubt that you will find us a place to camp."

"Maybe I should bespell some giants and let them sleep outside," said Ivo coming up to the mage and scout.

"Another night out under the stars."

"Maybe I can find you a cave," laughed Harald.

"You are fonder of the rain than I," said Ivo.

"The Oerth Mother's tears," Harald nodded. "They can make sleep difficult, but I think we can find some cover, or make it."

"Then let's be on our way," said Ivo. "I'd like to find a place to camp before full dark."

"The moons will give us some light," said Harald.

"If the clouds don't cover them," Ivo objected.

"Come then," Telenstil told them both, "to the north. Harald please see if you can find a side trail. We are between Nosnra and his allies, no use running from one to the other."

"I'll find us a place to sleep," said Harald. He jogged up the northern trail.

Telenstil turned and waved for the others to follow after. The orcs had settled themselves underneath the trees and it took another command from Talberth to get them on their feet and moving once again.

* * *

"Off the trail, off the trail!" Harald came running back down the path calling to the others in a hoarse, whispered shout.

"What is it, what is the matter?" Telenstil called back.

"Something is coming, off the trail," Harald told him in a gasp.

They had come up the northern slope, a long slow rising path, and just stepped upon the hilltop. It dropped down suddenly then just as suddenly rose up again. Below them there was a deep bowl cut from the hill, an old pond perhaps, long since dried out with trees grown thick and tall within. The trail ran down the center of the bowl and to either side the trees pressed against the bare oerth seeking to close the gap which cut the woods in two.

Harald waved them to the west. He wanted to have the setting sun at their backs. Long shadows were already being cast, but dark would come quickly. The mountains would steal the last minutes of the day and bring on an early night. They hid themselves easily among the bushes and the trees. Telenstil waited beside the trail for Harald, the pair stood looking across the bowl to its northern edge.

"Did you see what it is?" asked Telenstil.

"No, I heard the sound and felt the shaking of the ground," said Harald. "Many feet and the noise of cattle on the move."

"Giants?"

"Maybe, this is their land, who else would be on this trail?" Harald wondered aloud.

"Giants most likely then," said Telenstil.

"Look!" hissed the ranger. He pointed to the northern end of the trail.

A monstrous wolf was silhouetted alone at the far end of the bowl. Its head was turned away. Telenstil could see it give a yip, though he could not hear the sound. Two more wolves joined it, they circled each other head to tail for a few moments then one froze and laid its nose against the ground.

"Uh-oh," said Harald. "They probably have my scent."

"They will find us then," Telenstil glanced over to where the others hid.

"We're not likely to ambush them either," Harald agreed.

"Then we will fight them," Telenstil said firmly. "Get the others. We will fight them as they come up the slope. Height will be at least some advantage. Perhaps we can surprise them as well."

"I'll get the others," Harald ran into the woods beside the road.

The elven mage checked his belt and the pockets sewn cunningly within his robe. He drew out a crystal rod and prepared to cast a powerful spell that would let him wield the lightning of a storm. In a pouch at his side he had more crystal rods and in another, small brown-yellow stinking globs. He thought for a moment then put the rod away and drew out the other pouch.

"Cattle," he said to himself. "They will not like lightning but fire should be much worse."

"Telenstil, what is going on?" asked Talberth.

"Wolves are coming quick, and perhaps giants behind them," said Telenstil.

"Can Ivo hide us?" Talberth asked.

"I can make us appear as a grove of trees, but not perhaps the orcs, and not our scout if he resists my spell," Ivo declared. "I can fool their eyes even so, but their noses, I don't know."

"We can strike them down when they come upon us," said Gytha.

"Yes, but they will warn those behind them," Talberth said to her.

"Gytha, can you silence them?" asked Telenstil knowing the answer.

"I can with the Saint's help," she replied.

"Hurry then, they will soon be upon us."

Telenstil backed away from the trail and motioned for the others to join him. Gytha was behind a tree. She stepped out and cast her spell. 

***

The wolves began to give barking yips as they ran, their tongues lolling from their mouths, flicking in and out as they opened and closed their jaws. Gytha called down the power of the Saint. She waited for the wolves to close with her. As they came up the trail she could see the feral gleam within their eyes and hear the low growl beginning in their throats.

"Sainted one, let not these evil hounds give voice, let not their warning cries be heard, I ask of thee for calm, for blessed silence, now."

A buzzing like a thousand bees sprang up. A swarm of white-golden lights swirled around the wolves and dissipated in a wide circle about the forest and the trail. The wolves snapped briefly at the lights, their ears rose and they began to bark and howl. They jumped in a frenzy, their voices mute, their ears that could hear a leaf fall from a tree, now deafened by the silence called into place around them.

 Talberth and Telenstil stepped onto the trail. They raised their hands together.

"Noituus Istaa," intoned Telenstil.

"Zimee-ari-Kno," Talberth voiced beside him.

Bolts of blue magic light shot from their hands springing from the fingers of each mage. Telenstil's struck one wolf about the head and neck, it leapt and fell in a crumpled heap. The bolts from Talberth's hand brought another low, one burnt into a leg and the wolf tumbled forward as it ran, a glowing greenish ball whizzed by and struck it as it tried to rise, Ivo had used a magic sling that threw enchantment as a normal sling would throw a stone. The last wolf charged with its mouth gaping wide, determined to sink its teeth in one of these who had slain its mates. Telenstil sent out another set of magic bolts, the beast shrugged them off, hurt and badly so, but with both a will and fierce anger driving it on.

Talberth was roughly shoved aside and Harald met the wolf with his claymore stabbing like a spear. The steel point sank into the wolf's chest, through its lung and out its bowels till it dug into the ground. The beast was mad with pain. It blew out a bloody froth and bit at the blade which impaled it to the oerth. Harald drew his knife and put his foot upon the snarling head. With a flashing sweep he cut its throat, the wolf's legs pawed briefly at the air, then relaxed in death. The ranger drew out his blade and wiped it on the dead wolf's coat of fur. He opened his mouth and said something that none could hear.

***

"...off the road," Harald called to the others, stepping beyond the edge of Gytha's spell.

"What?" asked Gytha.

"What were you shoving me for?" Talberth asked angrily.

"We need to get them off the trail," said Harald, "and cover up the blood."

"Quick now!" Telenstil ordered. "Pull them into the underbrush, someone sweep the road, grab a branch."

"I could have been casting a spell!" Talberth went on, but Harald had turned away.

The ranger grabbed the wolf he killed and slung the body over his shoulder and back heedless of the flowing blood which poured from the gaping neck. With a few steps and a mighty heave he threw the body off the trail. It crashed into a thick bush and disappeared among the brambles and the vines.

Ghibelline cut a branch free with his sword, he used the leaves to sweep dirt over the blood and obscure the trail. The bodies of the wolves were dragged away, the orcs had just run behind the trees when the sound of many feet came drumming from the far side of the trail. From where he lay within the underbrush, Harald could see the top of a giant's head rising into sight. It was a youth, half-again the height of a tall man and thin as a pole. This lanky giant held a wooden staff, the bole of a tree stripped down, big enough to hold up the roof of a peasant's hut. He put his hand to his mouth and called out to the wolves which had run ahead, but received no reply. He shook his head, shouted something to those behind him and waved back toward the way he'd come. Another head appeared, this one was wide and brown, and a pair of horns wider than Harald's outstretched arms was on the set to either side.

The giants raised beef, but an ancient breed of bull and cow, larger than any that man would think to tame. As they watched from the southern edge a small herd of these cattle were prodded down the trail. There were at least two dozen of the beasts, and three more giants moving them along, though these were not so young, each was old enough to be the father of the boy. The last greybeard might be his father's father. Each bore a staff of wood such as the youth possessed and used them to guide the cattle, but the herd was calm and walked at a steady and unhurried pace. The boy called out again as he passed the bottom of the slope. He stopped and stared up at the southern edge, Harald felt the searching eyes pass through him and move on. One of the older giants gave the boy a shout and jabbed him with his wooden staff. The youth turned and yelled back and shook his fist, the giant struck again, this time a strong stab to the gut and the boy was doubled over. A huge foot swung up and none to gently rolled him aside. The boy fell into the bushes.

"Told ya not to bring the fleabags," the giant laughed and the other two joined in. "When you've got yer wind back you can run after us or run home."

Harald crawled backward till he was out of sight and edged over to where Telenstil crouched beside a tree. "Do we take them or let them pass?" asked Harald.

"I would let them go," said Telenstil, "but when they find the bodies of those other two, Nosnra's messengers, they will either alert Nosnra or their own chief and maybe both."

"Good," Harald smiled, a cruel unfamiliar look came over his face. "I will enjoy cutting these monsters down."

Telenstil grabbed the ranger's arm. "Now I wish we could let them pass. Harald, do not enjoy this. That is how these giants think. That is why they are monsters, and why we are here."

The smile passed from Harald, "I will keep what you say in mind, but my heart cries out for vengeance."

"Did you hate those wolves?" asked Telenstil.

"No, you are right." said Harald. "No use hating wolves or giants, it's like hating time for making you old, or a rock for tripping you while you walk. They are near, what is your plan?"

"We are well dispersed," Telenstil looked over his shoulder to check on the others in the group but most were hidden even from his sight. "I will throw fire into their midst. It should at least scatter the herd. We will only close after our magic is spent. If they should charge, then you and the others will hold them off or bring them down."

"Do the others know this plan?" asked Harald.

"Yes, Talberth commands the orcs," said Telenstil, "Gytha and Ghibelline are prepared as well."

Harald was watching the trail as they spoke, his hand tightened on his sword-hilt as they giants approached. "Here they come," he warned.

Telenstil stood and cast his spell, "Pall-Ot-Ull," he intoned and flung a small brown-yellow glob. It began to burn, flying through the air fast as an arrow, straight into the center of the herd. It exploded into flame, a huge sphere of yellow-red burning hot as a blacksmith's forge. 

***

The ball of fire roared out, it swallowed the giants near the center of the herd and set the trees and underbrush ablaze. Outside the confines of a room or a dungeon's narrow halls the spell spread out to its full limits, a huge spherical burst of flame. There was a second roar, this time from a score of voices and it went on and on. The giants swirled as if they were huge candles being spun like tops, their greasy hair and beards aflame. They screamed out a terrifying bellow of rage. The cattle were worse, they cried out in terror and in pain. Half had their hides ablaze, they gored those ahead and like a fan they left the trail running through the woods and underbrush, up the southern slope toward the places where Telenstil and the others hid. One knocked a twisting giant to the ground, another trampled him underfoot, a third was struck by a massive fist and fell, still afire it lay across him burning like a torch. They struggled together, the giant tried to rise and throw the huge steer from off his legs while hooves scraped and dug into his flesh. The two became a living pyre. Another steer crashed into them both and ran off, blinded by the searing flames.

The monstrous beasts came bellowing up the slope, tore bushes up by their roots and knocked down small trees. Up the trail ran a burning cow, its head blackened, eyes rolling wildly, a froth coming from its mouth surrounded by skin cracked and raw.

Telenstil cursed his spell, he'd thought to kill them all with a single strike and scare the rest. He stepped out into the road to meet the charge. "Az-Trapa!" the mage yelled out and sent a bolt of magic lightning booming down the trail. It struck a dozen of the cows and steers, a streak of bluish white that leapt from one beast to another. Many had been badly injured from the flames, the power of the bolt was too much, every beast it touched it killed. They dropped in a dreadful row; their cries were drowned out by the snap of thunder that accompanied the spell. Some fell to one side, others took a few steps, stumbling on legs already bereft of life, but Telenstil had not killed them all. Half a dozen of the beasts ran to the right, while two broke off through the brush that was on the lefthand of the trail.

Harold dived between the hooves of a cow that had come up on the lefthand side. He moved fast as any cat, faster than the cow or the stamping hooves. Once through he tackled the young orc who stood frozen before the second cow. They rolled clear, Little Rat breathing hard lying on his back still paralyzed with fear.

On the right Harald ran out and swept his blade low across the legs of a charging steer. The creature fell and with a quick and merciful second stroke the ranger killed the beast with a blow that would have pleased a master of the Butcher's guild. Talberth used his wand, drained a charge, the silver glow fading from a rune along its side. Three cows fell, but a forth brushed the mage aside. It flung him into a tree like a child's doll.

The orcs had been behind the mage, they ran as the two remaining steers came rushing on. One went down beneath the hooves of an enraged beast. Another lodged upon a goring horn and was carried off still yelling as the steer ran through the trees and out of sight. The remaining steer stamped the orc into a red and bloody pulp. Ghibeline ran up and stabbed it with his sword, it did not seem to feel the blow, but a second cut made it turn its head. Four of the orcs had not run, all were armed with weapons they had taken from the bugbear guards back in the dungeons of the steading. Boss, the leader of the orcs held a scimitar, Meatstealer had a rusted longsword, one orc held a ball and chain the other had a long-bladed axe. They charged the beast and struck it from horn to hoof, a weak swing of the morningstar barely grazed its flesh, while the axe clove deep and dropped the steer. The swords stabbed in and ended the poor creature's life.

Telenstil shook his head, their strength and power used against a cattle herd. Below him two of the giants survived. They'd beaten out the flames, burnt stubble all that remained upon their heads, and with angry shouts were charging up the slope as the herd had done.

* * *

Nosnra had not slept. His eyes were red, his face drawn and pinched. White streaks ran through hair that had been black and grey just a day before, his ruddy skin was burnt brown and the spare flesh on his ample frame was gone. The giant chief sat upon a rough built throne, his kindred had raised a frame and stretched a canvas overtop his head. He had not moved since the pyre for the dead had been lit. No one would approach him, not Thiodolf who spoke with Nosnra's voice, nor Estrith Nosnra's wife. A dozen warriors sat near to Nosnra's feet, they had returned with him the night before. They were just as weary but not all had Nosnra's strength, some collapsed, others leaned back and closed their eyes. As one would drop others would come and take them away then another would take their place. They were a grim spectacle.

As the sun reached its height a pair of giants came from the ruins of the hall. They stood taller than their rural kin, broad shouldered, thick thewed, skin like charcoal, hair orange as the embers of a blazing fire. One carried a sword that burned with flame; it looked like a dagger or a child's toy while it was held in the massive palm. The other giant lead a man, the scout Edouard, he was weighted down with chains roped over his shoulders and across his chest, but his arms were free. An iron collar was welded closed around his throat, a smaller chain stretched from below his chin to the giant's hand. Edouard walked like a man half-asleep, he tried to watch his step but his eyes kept drifting back to the sword in the giants grip.

The pair of fire giants approached the throne, the warriors sitting before their chief jumped up, some moved stiffly, still sore and strained from the power that had been unleashed when their witan died. They had taken a motley collection of weapons from the ruins the armory left untouched by the fire within the steading. Some held swords with blades ten feet long, or javelins that could have been ballista bolts, maces with heads like a blacksmith's anvil or axes that could fell a tree in a single stroke. "Turn back." called out one warrior

"Harthac, tell Nosnra we have brought him a gift," called back the giant with the burning sword.

"The chief is to be left alone," said Harthac, "he will call for you if he wishes, go back to your forge."

"It is cold out here, so I will speak to Nosnra now," the giant said and took another step forward.

Harthac placed a spear point to the giant's belt. "You will go back."

"This is foolishness," the giant swore. "Nosnra!" he yelled, Nosnra!!" his bellow hurt the ear.

"Speak," came a sepulchered voice. "Harthac stand aside."

Nosnra spoke but he did not rise. He turned his head and with eyes red veined but burning with an internal light he stared at the giant who approached.

"Nosnra it is I, Suttung, son of Gilling. I have brought you a gift. I return a treasure taken from your vault, and the one who took it and wrecked such havoc upon you and yours."

"Suttung, I will gift you with what you seek, the blade you desired shall be yours," said Nosnra. "Bring me this cur you have upon the chain."

"He is enthralled by the blade we brought for you," laughed Suttung, "It was meant for other hands." he said to Edouard. "The dark ones did not mean for their trinkets to go to one like this."

"Hand me the blade as well," commanded Nosnra. "Give me the chain that leads this dog."

Suttung stepped up to the throne and handed Nosnra the sword. Edouard moaned and ran for the magic blade as it passed from the fire giant's grasp. The other giant pulled back the chain and yanked Edouard from off his feet.

"Ylgr watch what you are doing!" Suttung yelled. "You'll break his neck."

"Bring him here," Nosnra told them. "I want this one to live."

Ylgr lifted the scout by the links across his shoulder and handed him to Nosnra like a butcher passing the carcass of a chicken over a countertop. Nosnra held the sword before Edouard's eyes and clasped his other hand around the man's collared neck. "You will serve me, you killed many of my wolves, human, you will take their place."

***

Harald ran down the trail as the two giants ran up. He held his claymore at his side, level with his waist, and raised it above his shoulder as he ran. A staff big as a scaling pole swept out, Harald ducked aside but the iron ferrule on the end caught him soundly and knocked him off his feet. He did not lose his grip or drop his sword; he rolled with the blow and ended kneeling, bringing the blade around and cutting the giant on its arm.

The swinging staff knocked Harald down again with a backhand blow, a second staff wielded by the other giant stabbed at him. He squirmed aside, the staff's end impaling only the oerth, sinking in deep as a fence post. Using his sword like a spear, Harald stabbed the giant in the leg, thunking into the huge shin but doing little damage except to cause the giant pain. Telenstil did what he could. He cast a simple spell and sent five magic bolts of gleaming blue that were sure to fly where he commanded. They struck but the giant shrugged the pain away. The monster took a second jab at Harald striking him a glancing blow that slid across his mail and over his shoulder. Harald stabbed up as the giant struck and this time opened up a deep and bloody cut across the creature's thigh.

"Harald!" Telenstil yelled to him. "Get away! Get away!"

Two staves clacked hard against each other missing the ranger, the giants fouled each other's attacks while Harald dragged his sword across the giant's leg like a surgeon cutting flesh. The wounded giant howled and pulled back its staff holding it in both hands up against its chest. The ranger threw himself to one side while the other giant brought its staff down as if it were an axe ready to split a block of firewood. There was a dull thud, the blow numbed the giant's hands, the knuckles white with strain and clawed in a frightful grip. The giant flexed them for a moment and the blood flowed in like a hundred needles sticking in its fingers and its joints.

More bolts flew from Telenstil but against such a monster as the giant they did little good. Ivo's power was of more effect, he'd run down the hill as the ranger fought, still yards away he cast his spell. His words were gibberish to any but the wise, the magic speech of the gnomish kind. He motioned with his hands as he spoke, slow graceful gestures that seemed to leave a trail of wavering space behind. Like the shimmering waves of heat above a fire these waves of magic power flowed around the giant's form. The staff fell from its hands; pins and needles ran up its arms, across its chest, down through its stomach to its toes. The giant fell like a tree when the final axe blow has been struck; slow at first, then with crashing speed.

The wounded giant took another blow from Harald's sword; the blade cut open rough hide trousers and the skin beneath. Blood poured down the giant's front and back, its arm and chest were burnt where magic bolts had struck, and red puss-filled burns were spread across its face. The last blow sent the giant into a frothing rage, it spun so quickly that it shook like a dog with a soaking coat and blood sprayed like rain from its open wounds. The giant broke the staff in two with the strength of its shoulders and its arms, then threw the splintered pieces at the gnome. Ivo brought up his hands to protect his face, the spell he had begun wasted, the magic potential dissipating like a cloud of smoke.

* * *

"Aaarrraaahhh!" the giant screamed wordlessly. It clawed at its face, scraping grimy nails down its cheeks leaving a bloody trail. It grabbed Harald by the shoulders and lifted him from the ground. Hands with the grip of a metal vice crushed in his mail, the steel links digging through the thick cloth he wore beneath his armor. Harald drove the point of his claymore, Miming, into the giant's chest. The keen edge slid in between its ribs, not deep at first, but as the monster lifted him he put his shoulder to the hilt and sank it in till it came out the giant's back. A hand let go of one shoulder and grabbed Harald by the throat, the palm was so big that it lapped over his jaw as well, saving him from a choking hold. The pressure ground his teeth together with a grating sound, massive thumb and fingers closed like pincers ready to crush the ranger's skull like an apple rotted on the vine and cast beneath a farmer's foot.

Two daggers stabbed at the giant's legs, the halfling and Little Rat attacked. The thief knew where to cut but the young orc just hacked away with fierce abandon; he did little more than gash the giant's skin.

And then it fell.

The pressure disappeared, the hands unclenched and Harald dropped, pulling out his blade half way. Magic bolts from Telenstil's hand struck it again, but only as an afterthought. It buckled at its knees, the thief and orc jumped back. The giant knelt for a moment, its arms straight at its side then tumbled backwards, legs bent double underneath. Harald lay atop the giant's chest. He would not release his sword, but the huge torso pulled it away and dragged the ranger along as if he weighed no more than a man of straw. He breathed hard, and closed his eyes letting his head rest on the bleeding silent chest.

Ghibeline lead the four surviving orcs charging down the trail. They heard the calls, the terrible scream, the elven warrior shouted for them to follow him and to his and their surprise, they did. They stared in quiet awe at the bloody scene. The ranger, hands still gripping his murderous sword, the bodies of two giants deadly still; one a mass of wounds, a vast rent torn down its side. All about them the smoking bodies of the cattle, the smell of roasting flesh and burning leaves. Small fires shrank sending out plumes of smoke as the wet loam refused to catch and spread the flames. Telenstil watched silently, as did Ivo. The halfling stumbled back away from the ranger and the bleeding corpse; his hand touched the other giant's face, slid across its eye and felt the lid flutter and the eyeball move.

"This one's alive!" he shouted in surprise.

"Look!" called out Ghibeline. "There's another!"

Standing off the trail near to the trees was the gangling giant youth. It stared at the carnage with an open mouth then shut it with a snap as the elf broke the silent moment that everyone had shared. The youth did not hesitate, it turned and ran, long thin legs eating up the distance between where it had stood and the north edge of the trail.

"After it!" yelled Ghibleine.

He ran down the path, gracefully weaving between the corpses of the cattle. The orcs followed him again roaring out a battlecry they had not used in years. 

***

"Wait!" Telenstil yelled.

He called after Ghibelline and the orcs but they did not listen or heed his call. The young giant easily outdistanced his pursuers, though Ghibelline was fast the giant's legs were longer than he was tall. Up the path and over the ridge and gone, the elf stopped at the far slope, the giant was already nowhere to be seen.

Nearby the little thief snarled as he peered into the fallen giant's eyes and showed him the knife, an old blade as big as a sword in the halfling's fist. "I curse you and all your kind," Harold told the giant then with a careful skill he cut the monster's throat with less regret than a farmer had when he killed a chicken for the evening meal. Though slowed by Ivo's spell the giant's heart still beat strong and steady. The blood sprayed from the massive wound, it soaked the thief in a crimson flow, it pooled around his feet and from a severed vein it fountained out with every dimming beat as the giant's heart began to weaken and ceased to pulse. Its muscles were frozen stiff by magic but its eyelids fluttered and a whoosh of air escaped in a single gasp as it left the giant's lungs through a gaping throat.

"That could have gone better," said Ivo to Telenstil.

The mage looked down and shook his head. "That is an understatement. We had best find Gytha and have her see to Harald."

They watched the ranger work the blade from the giant's chest; he gave a few hard pulls then staggered back and began to work at the blade again.

"Where is Talberth?" asked Telenstil.

"Where is Gytha for that matter," said Ivo. "What is that thief doing? Harold!" he called to the halfling. "We want to talk with that... too late."

"What?" said Telenstil. He had turned back the way they'd come but swung around when Ivo shouted to the thief. "Ah, that giant lived."

"It did," said Ivo, "I have not the craft to kill one out of hand, but stop them, freeze them in their tracks; that I can do."

"More killing, I knew what to expect, I have killed many in my years, but after this..." Telenstil mused aloud. "Ivo there must be a better way."

"Not that I know of against such as them," the gnome nodded toward the bodies of the giants. "Look up there, our new companion returns without his prey, but with his pack in tow."

Ghibelline was coming back down the trail, much more slowly than he had run up. The orcs had followed him as he chased the young giant, now they followed him again, but stopped beside the burnt body of a cow. They attacked the carcass, cutting long strips of flesh away, digging into the cow's side to pull out raw and bloody gobbets then devouring them where they stood. The orcs began to laugh among themselves spraying out half chewed meat. One began to choke he laughed so hard, then spit out a huge lump of beef. He bent to pick it from the ground but Meatstealer handed him a fresh piece he'd just cut. The orc was right, there was plenty more, any of the giant steers or cows could have fed them all for a week or more. There were at least a score of the cattle scattered about the hill. The smell from the roasted flesh, half-cooked by Telenstil's spell, wafted across the hill and sent seductive tendrils out to the entire company.

"I must be hungry," said Ivo his stomach rumbling loud enough for Telenstil to hear. "Watching a pack of orcs eat and I'm not sick, I want to dig in as well."

* * *

"How are you?" asked Telenstil.

Talberth rubbed his head, his face was bruised, one eye black and swollen, his nose still grimed with blood. "I'll live," he said.

"He was badly hurt, trampled by that cow," Gytha told them.

"What a way to die... I came to fight giants," muttered Talberth. "How did we fair?"

"Ghibelline says that two of the orcs are dead," said Telenstil. "Harald was hurt. Gytha can you see to him? Does Talberth need your help?"

"I have called on the Saint, he will grow tired of my requests," she smiled. "I will go see to Harald." The cleric left them and quickly ran down the trail.

"I owe their church a tithe," said Talberth. "I'll end up owing them as much as our thief."

"You should give her twice what she asks," Ivo put a friendly hand on the mage's shoulder. "I am thankful to have her with us."

"We will need to be careful, now that Henri is gone," Telenstil mused.

"Good riddance, but we are putting quite a burden on Gytha," Ivo said.

"Those Pholtines usually have no problem with using their power to gain some coin," Talberth said, "but I didn't get that feeling from Henri. I think he'd only heal us if we swore some oath to that god of his."

"Perhaps," said Telenstil, "maybe we judge him wrongly."

"That's all broken and past mending," Ivo shook his head. "We will have to make do with what strength we have."

"What a waste of that strength," groaned Talberth. He pushed himself to his feet and waved away the helping hands offered by his friends.

"The day grows late," said Telenstil looking to the west. "We need to collect ourselves and be gone before more giants come."

"What happened? Did they get away?" asked Talberth.

"One did," Ivo told him.

"One is enough," Talberth agreed.

"Yes, things did not go well," said Telenstil.

As they talked the halfling wandered up to them, behind him stalked the young orc, Little Rat, chewing contentedly on strip of meat.

"Gytha said you got knocked down by one of those things," said Harold, "big as dragons, is everything that size up here? I'd hate to see the poultry."

"The giants would make short work of the cattle we keep," laughed Ivo. "Normal cows are big enough for me, my clan keeps sheep."

"I'm happy to let the Butcher's guild deal with all such business," Harold said.

"I see your apprentice has no such qualms," Telenstil gestured to the orc.

"That giant lad, he will bring back others from his hall," Ivo broke into their mild conversation. "Come, we must leave this place, we may have to keep traveling through the night."