Master of Chains (19 page)

Giselle turned from looking over the wall to glare at Ryder. “The other foe the giants faced when the shield dwarves attacked was one of their own kind,” explained the Broken Spear leader, ignoring Ryder’s obvious slight. “A giant called the Dodkong.”

“The Dodkong?” Ryder had never heard of such a creature. “Should this name mean something to me?”

Giselle shrugged. “Depends. How much do you know about giants?”

Ryder shook his head. “Not much. There aren’t any in rural Duhlnarim. I don’t know that there are many in all of Erlkazar.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Giselle. “For many hundreds of years, the dwarves traded enslaved giants to the human royalty of the various baronies around the continent as a way to build political capital. Though many of the old alliances are broken now, the ruling families still keep giants or their offspring as servants. Erlkazar is not an exception.”

Giselle smirked, obviously enjoying instructing Ryder on the subject of giants.

Though her attitude was irksome, it was also strangely sexy, and Ryder had to look away from her. “So, who is this Dodkong?” he said, trying to stay on track.

Nazeem answered. “He is an undead stone giant.”

“You’ve heard of him, then,” said Giselle. She pointed to her forehead and traced the symbol of a triangle. “All the way over in Chult.”

Nazeem nodded.

“The Dodkong is the chief and ruler of the giant clans in the Underdark,” explained Giselle. “He wages war against the other giants, slowly killing off the chiefs and reanimating them into his undead minions.”

“And how do you know all of this?” asked Ryder.

Giselle pointed down into the courtyard. “When the Broken Spear found this place, we discovered that the giants had left behind most of their belongings. The dwarves must have not cared much for the giants’ possessions. There were piles and piles of scrolls, paintings, and stone etchings.” She shrugged. “I read them.”

Ryder turned to her in amazement. “You speak Giant as well?”

Giselle shook her head. “I can read it, but I’ve not the vocal chords to pronounce the words.”

“There will be plenty of time for you two to get to know each other after the giants are gone,” said Nazeem.

Ryder got the hint. “How many of them are out there?” he asked.

“We’ve counted at least three, but there could be more,” replied Jase.

“And how many warriors do you have left in camp?”

Giselle spread her arms. “You’re looking at them.”

Ryder looked down at the group of Broken Spear warriors. Including Giselle and Jase, he counted only a dozen. He and Nazeem brought the total up to fourteen, but considering their foe, those weren’t the best odds.

“If we help you, will you grant us our freedom?” asked Ryder.

“Will you try to leave?” replied Giselle.

“Yes,” said Ryder.

“Then the answer is still no.”

Ryder headed down the stone toward the steps.

Giselle grabbed him by the arm. “I could have left you locked in that cage.”

Ryder pulled away from her and continued toward the stairs.

“Ryder, please,” said Giselle.

He stopped, not turning around.

“People’s lives are at stake here,” said Giselle.

Ryder looked down into the courtyard. There was only one way out. If the giants breached the walls of Fairhaven, they would be trapped.

“I’ll need a sword,” said Ryder, turning around.

Giselle shrugged. “I don’t even have enough for all of my warriors.”

“What about the weapons the guards in the caravan were carrying?” he asked. “Surely you took them with you.”

“And now more of my warriors are equipped with good steel,” replied the bandit leader. “All that is left is the gold in their chests. But if you think throwing handfuls of coins at the giants will help, I am more than happy to show you where you can get all you need.”

Ryder looked down at the shackles he carried. He swung the chain side to side, feeling the weight of the cuff. They worked well enough while he fought Cobblepot. They would have to do the same here.

Nazeem’s sling seemed even punier than it had earlier. The little rocks would be little more than mere annoyances to a trio of undead giants.

“So,” asked Ryder, looking to Giselle, “what’s the plan?”

“We wait in the shadows just inside the door,” said Giselle, lifting the rope off her shoulder. “When the first one enters, we pull this taut from both sides. We can take out one before they even know what hit them.”

“That’s it?” asked Ryder. “That’s the whole plan?”

Giselle started down the stone block toward the stairs. “That’s the whole plan.” She stared at him. “Unless you’ve got something to add?”

The Broken Spear warriors, all began to file off the stone, following their leader. Nazeem looked to Ryder.

“Yes,” said Ryder. “Yes, I do.”

Everyone stopped.

“Well, spit it out then,” said Giselle. “We haven’t much time.”

Ryder nodded. “Nazeem and I will sneak out the front door and hide behind the statues,” he explained. “The rest of you stay here with the rope. As soon as the first giant passes, the two of us will attack from behind, taking him by surprise.” Ryder looked into each person’s eyes in turn as he spoke. “Once we have the giants’ attention, we’ll try to draw them away from the gate. At the very least, this will buy you some time. At best it will distract them, and you’ll be able to attack when they turn around. If we play our cards right, we might be able to confuse them enough to constantly attack their backs.”

The Broken Spear warriors seemed to roll the idea around in their heads. Giselle’s glare turned to dubious optimism.

“What if they don’t come after you?” asked Jase.

Ryder scratched his chin. “Then you go through with the original plan, and we’ll follow up from behind.”

“Well,” said Giselle, “it’s not much better than my plan, but it’s not any worse either.”

Ryder would take that. He turned to Nazeem. “Good?”

The Chultan nodded. “Good.”

“All right, then, if no one else has any objections,” said Giselle, sarcasm dripping from her words, “then I suggest we get on with it.”

At the bottom of the ladders, Ryder and Nazeem crossed the courtyard. The only person still in camp was an injured and badly beaten prisoner who had been marched out of Duhlnarim in chains. The rest of them, having been criminals—or at the very least unwanted in Erlkazar—were more than happy to join the Broken Spear. They had marched out with the raiding party who had left earlier in the day.

The last man was curled up in a ball and appeared to be sleeping. He was likely in no shape to fight, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t have much choice.

“Quickly,” Ryder said, placing his finger to his lips.

“You must wake and defend…” As he rolled him over, Ryder recognized him as the skinny man who had been chained to Nazeem.

The man’s eyes were open, and he stared up at Ryder with a look of utter terror. “Please. Don’t hurt me.”

Ryder took a step back, stunned. “I… I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re not?”

Ryder shook his head. “No.” He grimaced. “But there are things outside this wall that will if you don’t get up.”

The skinny man nodded and scrambled to his feet. He was quick—quicker by far than Ryder had anticipated. And he was tall, almost two inches taller than Ryder. As skinny as he was, he looked like a cornstalk. Though his skin was pale and he was shaking, the rest of him looked to be in fine shape.

“Are you all right?” asked Ryder.

“No,” replied the skinny man.

Ryder looked the man over once again. No blood, no bruises. He could see nothing to indicate that the man was in poor shape.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to be killed,” replied the skinny man.

Ryder laughed. “Neither do I.” He extended his hand. “My name’s Ryder.”

The skinny man shied away, startled by Ryder’s gesture. After a moment, he tentatively reached out and shook his hand. “My name’s Curtis.”

Ryder smiled. “So, Curtis, I’m guessing you aren’t the type who carries a sword.”

Curtis wiped his forearm across his face. “No.”

“Well,” said Ryder, starting to get a little frustrated with the man’s lack of explanation, “do you have any other skills that might be useful in a fight?”

“In a fight?” said Curtis, shifting his feet. “No.” He shook his head, puckering his lips as if the mere thought of a fight put a bad taste in his mouth.

“Well, maybe it’s best if you stay out of sight, then,” said Ryder, ushering Curtis toward a pile of rubble in a shadowy corner of the courtyard.

Curtis nodded, again shying away from Ryder’s hands, but moving where he was directed.

Then he stopped and lifted his hand, pointing his index finger in the air. “I know a little magic.”

“Magic? I think that qualifies as useful.” Ryder turned to gauge Nazeem’s reaction.

The Chultan shook his head, looking skeptical.

“What sort of magic?” prodded Ryder.

“Illusions,” said Curtis. “Illusions, mostly.”

Ryder shrugged. He didn’t know what good parlor tricks were going to be in a fight, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to have a magic-user on their side. Better than having one cowering in the corner.

“Come on then,” he said, shepherding Curtis toward the ladders. “You should be up above, where you can get a good view of everything unfolding.”

Curtis nodded nervously. “Will I be safe up there?” Ryder tried to put a smile on his face. “As safe as anywhere.”

With Curtis on the wall above and the Broken Spear in their places, Ryder and Nazeem headed out of the front gate, running through the shadows cast by the towering wall. Skirting around the first of the statues on the northern side of the pathway, the two men sneaked closer to the stairs.

Ryder pulled up about halfway between the gate and the first of the stairs behind a half-broken statue of a giant holding a tremendous spear. The entire upper body had been toppled, so the head and shoulders lay on the ground beside the plinth that supported the rest of the statue. The rubble provided a larger area to hide behind, and if the undead giants came to investigate, the two men could climb under the fallen statue’s arm, further hiding themselves.

Ryder could hear the giants talking to one another. They sounded a little like an old man suffering from a nasty head cold and a little like the noise of two large rocks being rubbed together.

“Do you speak Giant?” he asked Nazeem.

The Chultan shook his head. “Why would you think that I might know how to speak their jibber jabber of a language?”

Ryder shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem to know everything else and I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

The first of the undead giants climbed up over the last step. The creature was tall and lean, resembling very much the giants depicted by the statues lining the pathway. In the pale moonlight, the creature’s flesh was dull gray. Its tattered skin hung from its bones, flapping as the giant shifted its weight forward and back with each step. Its ribs were exposed on its left side, and a stream of dark, viscous fluid leaked from the opening.

The creature lumbered toward the gate, dragging a huge club in one hand and a boulder in the other. A second, then a third undead giant climbed over the rise of the last step. They were a little smaller than the first, but they were still massive in comparison to Ryder and Nazeem.

The trio continued to talk to each other until the largest spotted the first of the statues. It went still, raising its club to alert the others. As a group, they approached, being careful to circle around behind the statue as they came. When they got close enough, the big one swung its club, smashing the stone with a mighty blow.

The giant’s club knocked the head loose, and it fell to the ground, spinning toward the gate of Fairhaven. It took an irregular path as it rolled down the walkway. Each time it turned over, the protruding nose and ears would cause the whole thing to jump into the air and change directions. It came to a grinding rest just in front of Ryder and Nazeem’s hiding place.

“They think the statues are real giants lying in wait,” said Nazeem.

Ryder looked down the pathway. Many of the statues were battered beyond recognition. But there were several that could be whole giants.

“If we just wait here, they’ll find us.” Ryder watched the giants pummel the statue.

“Then we must change our plans,” said Nazeem. “There is no value in an ambush that does not come as a surprise.”

Ryder nodded. “Very true. But I have an idea.” He shuffled toward the shadows closer to the gate. “Follow me.”

Nazeem nodded and crouched beside Ryder, sling in hand.

Ryder watched the undead giants as they moved to the next intact statue, circling around behind and preparing to attack.

Just as the big one raised it club, Ryder whispered, “Now.”

He dashed out into the bright moonlight and across the open pathway. The giants beat on the statue, not paying any attention to the two men as they sneaked across and into the darkness on the south side of the path.

Safely on the other side, Ryder ducked behind a fully intact statue and examined the stone creature’s feet.

“What are you doing?” asked Nazeem.

“This statue is loose,” replied Ryder.

“Ah,” said Nazeem, understanding. “And you want to bring it to life.”

Ryder nodded. “Precisely.” He looked to the top. “We’ll need something to leverage it with—a piece of wood or something to shove into the cracks here at the base.”

Nazeem began scavenging the ground around the plinth.

Down the path, the undead giants had finished dismantling their latest stone victim and were moving on to the next—the last intact statue between the giants and the two men.

“There is nothing here,” said Nazeem, turning away from the search. “Only small rocks and dirt.”

“Then we’ll have to do this the hard way,” said Ryder.

Taking a step back, he set his chain in motion. He let the heavy end make two revolutions then hurled it toward the statue. The cuff of the onetime shackles landed on the giant’s outstretched arm, wrapping around once and catching. Ryder gave the chain a hard pull using the statue’s height to get leverage, and the carved stone shifted on its unsteady base.