Steel and Stone (23 page)

“Yes,” both heads whispered.

“As soon as possible.”

“Yes.”

“Take them to Fever Mountain.”

They nodded.

There was a pause, as though the voice were pondering. “As for the other woman …”

“Master?”

“Capture her, too. I’m curious about her.”

“What about nice favor?”

“Forget the favor. We have the fact.”

“Ah. Capture.”

Janusz made the ettin repeat the instructions three more times. “Any questions?” he finally asked.

“No supper here. Rotten woods empty. Res-Lacua don’t like dead food. Hungry.”

Janusz decided to be generous with the ettin. “Slay one of the others if you like. Just don’t hurt the two women. Bring them to me.”

“Eat?”

“Fine.”

*   *   *   *   *

Kai-lid. I have told the ettin where we are. The ettin will kidnap them
.

Xanthar! What have you done?

These four will debate forever while innocents die. I’ve merely speeded up the process. Don’t worry; you will be safe. The ettin promised. But it appears I was right, Kai-lid. They will be taken to Fever Mountain, and from there to the sla-mori, in the valley just south of the mountain
.

And?

When the ettin captures them, we will follow and make sure they find the sla-mori. Once in the Icereach, they will fight the Valdane. What other choice will they have? If the magic of Darken Wood holds true, they will soon forget they were ever here. And you, my dear, will not be suspected
.

Kai-lid was speechless.

You could thank me
.

But she said nothing.

*   *   *   *   *

When the attack came a short time later, Tanis and Kitiara whirled as one, swords flashing, to meet the challenge.

A hulk of a monster, stinking of rancid meat and dead skunk, roared out at them, slinging a club in
each hand. At first sight of the fearsome creature, Wode’s nag reared in fright and galloped off into the woods. The monster’s two clubs dwarfed the steel swords that thudded against the petrified wood. Kitiara recoiled despite herself. Beside her, she felt Tanis’s horror, too.

The giant owl dove overhead, screeching, but the mage seemed unable to react. Through it all, the eyes watched from the surrounding woods.

Across the clearing, Caven struggled to mount Maleficent, but the horse reared. Caven turned to Tanis’s gelding. Dauntless submitted docilely to Caven’s weight.

Tanis and Kitiara leaped to meet the ettin’s second charge, then just as quickly dove aside as the ettin’s weapons whizzed toward them. Both clubs sported a half-dozen iron spikes, each as long as a man’s hand. The spikes bore the scrapes and dents of years of use.

Tanis feinted, then slashed at the beast with his longsword. Kitiara followed suit. But the monster’s reach exceeded Tanis’s and Kitiara’s so greatly that the two could only pounce and jab before leaping back. Only Tanis could see well enough in the dimness. Kitiara had to rely on an intuitive sense of where the beast moved; until it came within a few feet of her, it was less than a blur in the blackness.

Tanis maneuvered until the thick trunk of an oak stood between him and the monster. Kitiara followed, squinting into the dark. Xanthar continued screeching, hooting overhead until Kitiara thought she would scream, too. The half-elf seemed oblivious to the owl’s commotion.

“You’ll never get near it, half-elf,” Caven shouted from atop Dauntless, trying to angle the horse closer. “This requires a mounted swordsman.”

“Do something besides talk, Mackid!” Tanis shouted back. The half-elf turned to Kitiara. “The ettin has brains of granite, yet, by the gods, the strength of granite, too!” He frowned. “Caven’s right, for once. We’ve no chance with swords.”

Suddenly Tanis picked up a fist-sized stone. “Stay here! Cover me!” he hissed.

“What? How? Half-elf, I can barely see!” Kitiara protested. She lunged for his arm. “What are you—?”

Her question went unanswered as the half-elf lobbed the rock at the ettin. The creature’s heads snapped backward, its confusion mirrored in its watery eyes. At the same time, Caven spurred the gelding forward.

Tanis nocked and released an arrow. It hurtled toward the ettin as Caven and Dauntless came tearing at the creature. The arrow sliced along the tough hide of the ettin’s shoulder. The beast’s left head swung around, looking more surprised than pained, and the left arm arched toward Dauntless. Caven was knocked off the mount, and suddenly the gelding hung by the neck in the grasp of the thirteen-foot beast. The horse pawed uselessly at the air.

The ettin shook the gelding’s neck. “Food!” the right head crowed. Lacua, the left head, echoed Res, and the ettin slammed the horse into a tree. Tanis cried out as he heard the animal’s front legs break. Res-Lacua released his grasp, and Dauntless went down.

Kitiara dove for the ettin. The monster’s left hand dropped its club, reached out, and backhanded Kitiara. Then it grabbed her and shook her fiercely, sending her weapon flying. Caven, on foot now and wielding his sword, struggled to close with the beast. Tanis joined Caven; he dared not loose an arrow at the ettin now for fear of hitting Kitiara. The ettin
shook her one last time and dropped her unconscious body over one shoulder.

Then Res-Lacua halted and looked around him. “Lady mage!” he hollered. He stormed across the clearing toward Kai-lid. Tanis saw her freeze. Her fingers moved frantically, fumbling with the pouches of spell components at her belt. “Xanthar!” she shouted. “My magic! I can’t …” The giant owl dove toward the ettin, but Xanthar’s wingtip caught against a branch, and he careened into the ground.

“Xanthar!” Lida screamed again. The owl lay there, unmoving.

Then the ettin was striding out of the clearing, with Kitiara draped over one shoulder and dragging Lida by one arm. Res-Lacua shoved past Tanis and Caven as though they were reeds. Just as the ettin reached the edge of the clearing, a new figure stepped in front of the monster.

Of all things, it was Wode.

Clearly terrified, the young squire brandished Kitiara’s dropped sword. “Halt!” Wode cried in a cracked, piping voice. Bravely he pointed the weapon at the ettin.

The ettin slowed only temporarily. As though Kitiara were no heavier than a sack of onions, the two-headed beast shifted her body and wedged it in the space between his heads. That freed one hand—a hand that held a spiked club.

Wode screamed Caven’s name. The bearded man searched around desperately, spied a boulder, and, muscles bulging, hefted it above his head. He plunged across the clearing with Tanis close behind.

Wode screamed one more time; then the ettin’s club connected. The youth crumpled to the ground, and the beast leaped over him and raced out of the clearing.

Chapter 13
The Chase

C
AVEN KNELT BESIDE
W
ODE, HIS SQUIRE AND HIS
nephew. Tanis stood uncertainly next to the grieving mercenary until the wild neighing of the half-elf’s gelding drew his attention and brought him to the edge of the clearing. Dauntless was struggling vainly to rise. His eyes were glassy. The faithful horse grew quiet as the half-elf stroked his beautiful neck with a broad, gentle hand.

“I don’t need telepathy to know what you’re asking, old friend,” Tanis whispered. He drew his sword, uttered a silent prayer, and slit the horse’s throat. Dauntless’s life bubbled into the soil of Darken Wood. Tanis stayed with the horse until his breathing ceased.

Using Kitiara’s sword to fashion a grave, Caven was making little headway in the hard ground.

“It will take you hours at that rate,” Tanis said quietly. “We must hurry after Kitiara and Lida.”

“I’m going to bury him.” Caven’s voice was toneless.

“We could pile stones over the lad. It’s the usual way for those who die where burying is difficult. And it’s faster.”

“He’s my sister’s child. I will bury him as she would have, back in Kern.”

“But Kitiara …”

Caven’s voice rose in determination. “Kitiara got herself into trouble; she can wait. I will bury Wode. You can help or not, as you choose. You owe me nothing, half-elf.”

Tanis knew he would need Caven Mackid in the hours and days ahead, so he put aside his sword and began to dig with his bare hands. There came a rustling behind them, and Tanis wheeled quickly, expecting another onslaught. Instead it was Xanthar, pulling himself weakly to his feet. “Kai-lid,” he said faintly. “We must find …”

“Who?” Tanis asked. The giant owl looked straight at him.

“Lida,” Xanthar corrected himself. “We must go after Lida and Kitiara. To save them.”

Tanis gestured mutely to indicate Caven, who hadn’t bothered to look up. The swordsman was working steadily, scraping at the ground with his blade and picking rocks out of the hollow with his fingers. He had wrapped Wode’s body in his own scarlet cape.

The owl nodded. “He will not leave him?” Tanis nodded his head. The owl hesitated. He looked toward the north. Then Xanthar gave a near-human approximation
of a shrug. “Caven Mackid is right,” Xanthar said. “It is best, in Darken Wood, to leave no funeral rite unobserved. We would not want to encounter this Wode in the ranks of the undead.” The owl surveyed Caven a moment longer, then said briskly, “Nevertheless, there’s not a moment to lose, and you are making little headway, human.”

At this, Xanthar edged forward. “Allow me,” the bird whispered. He opened his great, saw-edged beak and began to dig. Soon the depression grew into a shallow oblong trench.

Finally Xanthar drew back. “It is deep enough,” he said. He spat and cleaned his beak of soil by running it through his wing feathers.

Caven started to object to the shallowness of the grave, then gave in. “All right,” he said wearily.

They gently moved Wode’s body into the hollow and covered it with twigs and leaves, dirt and rocks. “Kernish observances are silent,” Caven said, and the half-elf and owl followed his lead as he stood beside the grave and bowed his head for several long minutes. When at last he looked up, his eyes were wet, but his face was resolute. He whistled for Maleficent. The horse stood uneasily as Caven and Tanis loaded Kitiara’s pack and necessary belongings. After searching Wode’s pack and finding nothing of consequence save a small amulet from his name-giving day, they hung the pack on a stick atop the teen’s grave as a remembrance.

Then both men mounted Maleficent. “I’m not accustomed to cozying with any but women, half-elf,” Caven complained. Tanis snorted and settled behind the Kernan on the stallion’s broad back. With Xanthar circling overhead, they set off after Kitiara and Kai-lid.

The path seemed to head into mountainous terrain, but this time the ettin’s footprints were nearly impossible to spot. Time and again the half-elf slid off Maleficent to search under plants and debris for the huge print. “He’s being more cagey now,” the half-elf mused.

Dawn seemed imminent, and Tanis realized he’d long since lost track of what time of day it was outside Darken Wood. The woods were lightening, losing some of their fearsome quality. One by one the eyes of the undead blinked and went out.

“This is
your
fault, half-elf,” Caven said almost bitterly. When the half-elf, mounted behind Caven, drew back in surprise, the swordsman continued, “
Your
horse.
Your
useless gelding failed me.”

“Your stallion was poorly trained. It would not even let you mount it.”

“Yours was a coward.”

“Dauntless carried me safely through many dangers, Mackid. You caused his death yourself with that melodramatic stab at a rescue.”

“No great loss, losing a nag like that.” Caven was silent for a time.” Tanis was doing his best to keep his temper. “Anyway, you were the one who brought Kitiara the news of the ettin, half-elf.”

“And you knew there might be a connection between the ettin and the Valdane and Janusz, but you didn’t speak up!”

They continued in this vein, growing increasingly heated and acrimonious, until Xanthar dropped out of the sky and landed ahead of them on a branch overhanging the trail. Maleficent neighed and halted.