Against the Giants (19 page)

“Easiest way for a fighter to break a bone like this is to
slam his arm or leg too hard into something even harder. Next time you might
have to heal on your own!”

“As I have from childhood, paladin,” the barbarian replied.
“And men from my country don’t pull back from battle for fear o’ bruisin’
themselves.” He glanced at Nemis, who was again prowling the room. “We’ve been
here too long. Th’ giants could be sneaking—”

Malowan shook his head. “I would know if they were so close.
Nemis, reassure our northern friend. No one nearby?”

“No one,” the mage said readily. He closed the book on his
hand, marking his spot. “This seems to be a hundred paces or so from any life at
all, unless you count a stray rat or a few spiders. There are large and
unpleasant creatures some distance away to the west, and some sort of beasts
eastward. The latter are moving about, but the others seem to be caged and in a
fury because of it. I can tell there are giants and others above us on the main
floor. The stairs came down so well that they are having difficulty getting the
first stones moved. Among the giants, there is uncertainty and a little fear as
well.”

“Fear?” Lhors asked in surprise.

“Fear,” Nemis agreed. “Look at us. Smaller than they, fewer
than they, and yet we have challenged them in their very halls.” His sardonic
smile faded. “And we have killed some of them and some of their servants.”

“’Tis fine,” Khlened grumbled, “but what next? I still see
no way from this place. Do we simply sit here until they come to take us?”

“No,” Vlandar said. He was lacing his mail shirt close to his
body. “There are two ways out of this chamber, besides the one Nemis destroyed.
Agya and Nemis found them while the rest of us were resting. But you are right
We dare not stay here much longer. We have much to accomplish yet.”

“I agree,” the barbarian said. He scowled at the ruined
wicker. “All the fighting we’ve done so far and for what? One skinny purse. Most
of the coin we’ve found so far—and it wasn’t much—went to those hulking giant
lasses.”

Vlandar sighed. “If we win through with the information the
king seeks, he’ll see us rewarded handsomely. Particularly if we spend so much
time doing his work that we’ve spared none seeking out treasure.”

The barbarian snorted in obvious disbelief.

“I agree,” Vlandar continued. “He might not take
your
word for such a thing, but I have served him and his father before him. He knows
I would not lie—not over a trifling matter like coin.”

This silenced Khlened.

Vlandar looked around the room and got to his feet. “All
right, people. You know I wanted to get in, get that map and any other useful
information, then quietly leave. Well, at least we have the map. Mal, have you
and Nemis examined it?”

The paladin shook his head. “I wanted you awake so we could
go over it together. I would also like to compare it with the scroll—”

“Scroll?” Maera demanded. “What scroll?”

Malowan stirred. “There was no time to share the information
before. Also, I wanted to be certain of its contents.”

Nemis’ lips twitched. “You did not trust
me,
you
mean. I cannot blame you—”

“Save that,” Vlandar broke in briskly. “Maera, I chose to
keep that matter to myself. Now I intend to share it. That is my right as
commander, is it not?”

She nodded and settled back against the wall.

“From now on, our main goal is to escape this place. Best
would be a forgotten doorway to the surface, but I doubt we will find one. There
may be ways guarded by spells or beasts, and even if we do make our way back to
the surface, we may have a long journey back to our horses.”

“There may be other ways to leave, Vlandar,” Malowan said
mildly. “Ever since I first heard Lhors’ tale, I thought these giants must have
a spell or some magic device to get them from here to Keoland. Upper Haven is
many days’ journey from here, even for giants. I find it odd that they have not
been seen more often. The land is not
that
underpopulated.”

“True,” Vlandar said. “And we may find such devices or magic
items on this level. I have led enough raids against bandits and robbers to know
that those who have a permanent hiding place keep their most valuable things
apart—often in a secret space beneath the chief’s personal quarters.”

“I agree,” Malowan said. “I still believe the scroll cases I
found in that woodpile were temporarily hidden—set where they would not be seen
by everyone, but near enough that they could be retrieved quickly. Once the
orders written there are carried out, I believe the scroll would be put with
previous orders in a locked chamber close by. Perhaps down the nearby stairs?”

Vlandar nodded. “I agree with you, Mal. I hope to find
another way into that passage from down here. The two staircases cannot be very
far apart. We shall see. So far, Nosnra and his crew seem not to have warned any
guards down here where we are and what we have done.”

“How do you know that?” Lhors asked.

“Because there is no company of giants breaking in either of
the doors, and… Nemis?”

The mage murmured a spell—probably the reveal danger one that
Lhors knew he used often. Nemis shook his head no.

Vlandar went on. “We are alone. Nemis would sense anyone
nearby. Either this level is largely deserted, which I doubt, or no one down
here knows what happened up there, which I also doubt. If there are dungeons and
housing for slaves and such down here, as I think likely, the giants are
involved in their normal routines. Still, we dare not stay here much longer. We
have all rested some. All of you, eat something and drink a little. Nemis, I
think it’s time to explain.”

“As you choose,” the mage said and set his book aside with a
faint sigh.

“Me first, then you,” Vlandar replied.

Nemis merely nodded.

Lhors thought he looked resigned, but it was hard to tell.
The mage’s face didn’t reveal much.

Vlandar went on, “The scroll Mal found is written in
Giantish. The scroll Mal found gives us written proof that these giants were
ordered
to attack villages. We do not know why, but we do know
who.
I
can assure you that if we come away with nothing but this one scroll, we will
have accomplished part of our task. When we find a way out, I may choose to
divide our force and send some of you to take that scroll back to Cryllor. The
Lord Mebree’s sorcerers can easily transport it to wherever the king presently
is.”

“But if our boats and the horses are already gone… ?”
Maera asked.

A muted grumbling rippled through the party.

“They will not be,” Malowan replied. “I left the mate this
charm.”—he fished a little device from his belt. “At least once a day, I let him
know that we still live. He waits for another signal from me if we need help,
and by yet another to tell the Flennish to set sail back east while he and the
lad return the horses to Cryllor.”

“Now,” Vlandar went on, “I see most of you are dissatisfied,
but there is more to all this than you know.” He gave Nemis a steady look.

The mage sighed, but came away from the wall. He looked
resigned, Lhors thought. Like the day you had to admit to old headman Yerik that
you sneaked into the onion fields and ate bulbs, he mused. The headman had been
really angry until Gran broke into her cackly laugh and reminded the headman of
his own forays into that same patch.

Nemis now wore the same look on his face that Yerik had.

“All right,” the mage said. “I have something to tell all of
you, and I… well…” He settled cross-legged on the floor and drew a deep
breath. “The scroll was written by a being called Eclavdra, a dread sorceress of
the dark elves, the drow.”

Rowan caught her breath sharply, and Maera sat up straight.

Nemis eyed the rangers. “Yes, I see that you know of drow.
For you others, drow are elves, but unlike Rowan or Maera, they are black
skinned, silver or white-haired, and they live beneath the ground. Unlike our
rangers, they despise growing things. They are selfish, cold-minded, and cruel.
Long ago, they fought the other elves for control of the surface lands and lost.
They were driven underground where they have since made their home. They do not
want to return to the surface, unless they have greatly changed. They prefer the
dark depths of the earth, but they hate other elves, half-elves, and all who
dwell under the sun.”

“It is an ancient hatred,” Rowan said. She sounded shaken,
and Maera’s face was pale. “Of course we know of drow, but no one has seen them
in many of our lives. We hoped they were all dead.”

“They are not,” Nemis said evenly. “I
have
seen them.
My master was a skilled mage who made a study of the drow. What he learned drove
him to fear them, and I think his fears made him a little mad, for not long
after I was bound to him, he sought the drow, and they found him. Before that
year’s end, my master and I were housed in a chamber far below ground in the
midst of a vast city of drow. He had pledged himself as apprentice to one of
their most dire sorceresses, Eclavdra. As his apprentice, I was also bound to
her.”

Rowan looked at Maera, who was honing the points of her
spears on a whetstone. Maera shrugged.

“I have never heard that name,” Rowan said.

“Few have,” Nemis admitted. To Lhors, his eyes looked
haunted—like Gran’s eyes the morning after the giants’ attack. “She is many
things: sorceress, dour warrior, a black cleric, and”—he swallowed—“extremely
charismatic. She draws people of all kinds to her service. My master went to her
from fear. I for other reasons.” He stared at his hands. “She wanted me for her
own…
personal…
reasons. Because I pleased her, I was given
training in the drow magic. Eventually, I learned enough that I was able to
strike down my master and escape.” He looked at Rowan. “Yes, that could be a lie
to hide that Eclavdra trained me and sent me onto the surface to spy for her or
do worse things. I can only swear to you that I am no spy for the drow.”

“I know that,” Malowan told him. “You others, remember that
as a paladin, I can discern when someone lies. Nemis is not lying.”

“In that case,” Maera said, “we have a problem.”

* * *

“Mal!” Agya hissed urgently. She was exploring the east wall
as the rest of the party prepared to set out. “Mal, come ’ere! There’s a loose
bit just ’ere.”

Malowan came over to see, and Vlandar followed. Lhors,
closest to the girl, could make out the fingertip-sized circle that slid aside
as she pressed on it. “Lookit,” she breathed. “I can see out there!”

She stepped back as the paladin crouched to set his eye to
the opening. Malowan nodded cautiously and gestured for Vlandar to look, then
signed Agya to ease the cover back into place. “There is no one out there just
now, but someone might come and hear our voices,” Malowan said quietly.

“What is it?” Lhors asked.

“A very large, dark chamber,” the paladin replied,
“apparently empty for now.”

“We’ve been quiet enough,” Maera replied. “Besides, if
something had been that close, either you or the mage would have detected it,
wouldn’t you?”

“Probably,” Malowan conceded reluctantly, “but our magic is
not infinite. Someone
could
have crept in and away again without us
noticing, though it is unlikely.”

“Well,” Agya interrupted, “tell you what, just before I
opened that spy-bit, there
was
somethin out there—not in th’ open, more
like clear across. First off, I caught an echo, then p’raps whatever it was went
behind some door, ’cause was not so loud and no echo. But I did catch someone
speakin’ what sounded like Giantish, like it was bellowin’ orders. But th’ other
din’t have words.”

“What exactly
did
you hear?” Malowan asked.

“Ah, wait,” Agya said and shut her eyes to concentrate.
“Goorzh, nigheye! Zharhoye!”

To Lhors’ surprise, it sounded like the guttural, spitting
sound of Giantish. “’Tis all I could catch aright.”

“How’d you know that,” Lhors asked, “if you don’t understand
giant-talk?”

“I don’t
understand
it,” the girl retorted.

Malowan cleared his throat, defusing a potential spat. “Agya
doesn’t read. Like many who don’t, she has excellent recall of sounds—even words
whose meaning she doesn’t know.”

Agya waved that aside. “So? It means—well,
what?”

“It is an order,” Nemis said. “‘Stay put, you brute, and
guard!’ As if the giant spoke to a pet.” He looked to Malowan, who was pressed
against the east wall, eyes closed.

“I sense incredible evil, despair, pain, and anger. I think
the giant may be a cell guard, and there is a beast to aid him in that task.”

“Beast?” Agya looked unhappy. “Like Jufas’ monkey?
It
weren’t no pet. It bit people, nasty creature, gave ’em awful fever. Jufas
nearly got kilt when th’ brute jumped ’im wi’ no warnin’ at all.”

Rowan nodded. “That is the worst of wild beasts being kept in
fetters. Bears and apes will usually leave you alone in the wild. Kept prisoner
and tormented—well, they act no worse than any of us would in their place.”

“P’raps,” Agya said. Lhors didn’t think she sounded convinced
at all. “But any kept
’ere
won’t be yer wild, free things as leaves us
alone, will they?”

“Agya,” Malowan murmured and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Unfortunately, you are right. Beasts here will be pent and angry or trained to
attack. And Vlandar, there are three or four other pent-up brutes to the west—I
am nearly certain they are manticores, and it will do us no good to go after
them.
Remember where we are in the northwestern corner of the Steading. The
west door may not lead anywhere but to a trap.”

“I agree,” Vlandar said. “Better to avoid manticores
altogether. The sting from their tails is said to be bad.”