Against the Giants (16 page)

Nemis crossed to the map, ran his hands over it as if he was
checking for spells, then yanked it from the wall, rolled it tightly, and
stuffed it into his pack. Malowan was back at the woodpile beyond the leather
curtain while the rest of the party waited just outside.

Nemis approached them and shook his head. He drew aside the
curtain and whispered, “Nothing there. I can tell. Below, however—” He gripped
the paladins arm and dragged him back into the council room. “Someone is down
there—at least ten—and they are coming this way.” His lips moved silently and
his eyes glazed over as he worked some spell. After a moment, he continued,
“Seven giants—I think a cloud giant or something else truly huge, and there are
hobgoblin guards.”

“This is no fight for us, then,” Vlandar said. “We have the
map. Let’s go back the way we came. Quickly and quietly!”

He sent the rangers out first, put Lhors ahead of him, and
set Khlened and the paladin to bring up the rear. Their luck was not holding
well. Even Lhors could see into the south corridor from the end of this one. The
wrestlers had moved out into the hallway and were battering each other before a
crowd of other young giants. They might be drunk, the youth thought, but they
seemed alert for all that.

“No good,” Vlandar said. “There are too many of them, and all
that noise may rouse others. Nemis, we’ll have to go through the feasting hall
and out the main doors. Can you put a sleep spell on anyone still in there?”

The mage eyed the distant drinkers and shook his head. “Not
from here. Get me closer to the entrance, and I can.”

Lhors held his breath as he followed the mage, Vlandar right
on his heels. Rowan had gone ahead, arrow ready to fire, while Maera brought up
the rear so she could keep an eye on their backs.

Once they reached the entry, Vlandar drew Lhors with him
against the wall where it was fairly dark, but Nemis went on. There were three
giants awake that they could see, two waiting while the third shook a keg, threw
it aside with an oath, and caught up another. The mage’s sleep spell caught him
just then, and he slumped to the floor. The empty keg rolled away from him, and
the other two giants fell across the table an instant later.

Nemis stood very still for a long moment, then beckoned
urgently as he strode across the vast chamber toward another broad corridor that
went south. Near the entrance, he froze, then slowly backed away.

“What?” Vlandar demanded as he came up.

“I just used a reveal spell. There are guards on the other
side of those doors, giants and more hobgoblins—or worse, norkers.”

“Norkers,” Vlandar muttered. “Hobgoblins are dangerous enough
fighters, but norkers are vicious—worse than a pack of dire wolves.” An echoing
yell brought him around, and Rowan came running.

“Let’s get out of here. Those young ones are coming this
way!”

“Too late,” Maera said as she hefted a spear. Someone was
bellowing back the way they’d come. “They’ve seen us!”

“West door!” Vlandar ordered, “There’s another way out up
there.”

Maera and her sister ran for the doors, then took up
positions next to them. Khlened was right on their heels. He dragged at the door
and nearly fell when it opened more easily than he’d expected. Vlandar sent
Malowan in first. Agya as usual stuck close to him, and Khlened followed. There
was kitchen noise, but not as much, Lhors thought. He went next, followed by
Nemis, who was already working some kind of spell. Vlandar and the rangers
joined them, and the warrior dragged the door shut as the rest of them moved up
the hall far enough that they wouldn’t be immediately seen by anyone in the
kitchen.

Lhors caught a glimpse of two of the little lizardlike
creatures—kobolds, he remembered—who were facing an enormous fireplace in the
west wall, stacking greasy bowls and platters on a table. Someone else in the
room was screaming at them, but Lhors didn’t take the time to investigate.

Vlandar drew them farther up the hall and whispered, “They
didn’t see us. One of their elders was cursing them for interrupting his sleep,
and they were arguing with him. Let’s go.”

Just then, a bald hill giant came out of the kitchen, yawning
and stretching. His eye lit on the party, and he ducked back the way he’d come,
yelling a warning. Khlened and Malowan ran after him, the rest following.
Vlandar tapped Lhors on the shoulder as they ran. “Stay with me. Rowan, you and
Maera keep an eye on the way we just came!”

The smells in the kitchen were dreadful. Three spits hung
empty over a fading fire in the back wall. The two kobolds stared at the bald
giant fearfully as he snagged one of the spits and brandished it like a sword.
They backed against the near wall, obviously afraid that the giant was about to
strike them. Then they saw the armed humans and fled, scurrying past the giant
and around the corner. The giant ignored them. With a grin that bared rotting
teeth, he bellowed in Giantish. Half a dozen tall, gangly brutes poured into the
chamber from the north, bearing kitchen knives and a few long pikes for weapons.

“Ogres,” Vlandar told Lhors. “They’re stupid but dangerous,
and they eat people. Stay close!”

Rowan came up beside them, arrow drawn. “Mal, stay back!”

The paladin nodded to indicate he’d heard, but there was no
time. The ogres were upon them. Malowan slashed at the first that came near him,
then ran past the brute, leaving him for someone else to finish.

Lhors launched one of his spears at the lead ogre. It
quivered in the creature’s gut for an instant before Maera’s own spear brought
him down. Rowan killed two more while Khlened fought another.

The ogres
must
be stupid, Lhors thought. They seemed
to have no plan other than to rush in and kill. When the last one fell with
Vlandar’s spear in its belly, Khlened brought his sword down two-handed across
the back of its neck. Malowan threw himself at the giant, who stood dumbfounded
that the party had dealt with the slaves so quickly.

The fat giant never had a chance, even with his longer reach.
Malowan gave him first thrust, leaped aside, and then swung his blade with both
hands. It sliced through the creatures pants, cutting deeply into his leg just
below the knee. Malowan came back around, this time stabbing deeply into the
side of the brutes leg and severing at least one tendon. The giant went down
heavily on his side, the spit clattering free. Before the giant could react,
Malowan drove his blade deep into the brute’s eye, killing him.

In the momentary silence, Rowan hissed a warning. “Someone
coming!”

A leather and sheep-skin-clad giant came wandering into sight
from the south passage, yawning cavernously. He blinked, enormous hands kneading
the small of his back as he turned toward the kitchen.

Vlandar gestured urgently for his people to retreat past the
fireplace, but it was too late. The monster blinked at the dead ogres, bristling
with spears and long-shafted arrows, then at the fallen giant. He looked
uncomprehendingly straight at Lhors, then his eyes flashed and he drew a
single-edged axe.

“Deke n’thull?”
he demanded. It sounded to Lhors more
like spitting than words.

Malowan stepped forward, blades at the ready, and countered,
“Emrischgu’vrugnikh, zhegna!”

Lhors stared as the two slowly paced toward each other. “What
did they say?” he asked Vlandar, but Vlandar was already moving to Malowan’s
side and gesturing for Khlened to get behind the creature.

Agya growled. “Means, ‘Your fate, dead and damned one!’”

The youth gave her a look of disbelief.

She shrugged. “’Tis the only Giantish I know, and that
’cause I asked what he’d say if he went against any of ’em.” She sighed heavily.
“Get ’imself killed, saying bits like that.”

Nemis stood nearby, speaking to himself, and the doorway
briefly glowed a faint blue. “Good,” the mage said. “There won’t be anyone else
to hear this. Maybe.”

The giant threw himself at Vlandar. Malowan stabbed at the
back of the creature’s knee, but the blade hit something—armor, Lhors
assumed—and the paladin nearly fell. Agya took a step forward then stopped.

“Get ’im killed, girl, you go to help,” she mumbled under her
breath.

Malowan recovered his balance and tried again, lower this
time, and Vlandar slashed up at the same time. Both blows connected, spraying
blood over the combatants. The giant abandoned his axe and pulled a dagger
nearly the size of the paladin’s sword. Malowan parried as Khlened got behind
the massive brute and cut low. The armor didn’t reach his ankles. The
barbarian’s sword cut deep through the tendon, the giant went down. Giving him
no chance to recover, Vlandar stabbed him through the throat.

Lhors grabbed Agya’s arm and hauled her back nearly to the
entry as blood sprayed everywhere, coating the stack of platters and hissing
into the fire. Malowan, who’d managed to avoid the arc of blood by some fast
footwork, leaned against the fireplace stones, gasping for air. Agya pulled free
and ran to Malowan.

“Not hurt, are you?” she demanded.

He shook his head, too winded to speak.

She glared up at him. “Lucky you’re not dead,” she snapped,
turning on her heel, and stalking back over to Lhors.

“All right,” Vlandar announced quietly. “Mal, catch your
breath. Rowan, can you see anyone else out there? What happened to those young
ones who spied us? Khlened, you and Maera go where those kobolds went and the
ogres came from. See what’s there.”

“Quietly,” Maera warned the barbarian.

“Huh,” he growled as he wiped his sword and hands on the dead
giant’s sheepskin vest. “Like we were just now?”

“I’ve blocked the sound,” Nemis said impatiently.

Khlened cast up his eyes but followed Maera. The two were
back in a matter of moments.

“There’s a bigger room—empty now—and an alcove, two doors.
One smells like it might be a pantry. The other doesn’t close tight. It comes
out on that hallway. No one’s in sight, including those kobolds.”

“If they went for help—” Khlened began.

“They’d be back by now,” Malowan said flatly. He still
sounded short of breath and was shaking his hands out.

“Can we go before more come?” Agya asked.

Vlandar got everyone into the large room north of the
kitchen. It was empty except for a cold fireplace and a large table. He and
Khlened shifted the one door, and Vlandar went in. He returned at once. “As I
thought. There is a pantry, but the second set of stairs is just beyond the
cabbages.”

The other door was ajar enough for Rowan or Maera to slip
through, but Vlandar looked at Nemis, then Malowan.

“It’s dark out there and quiet for the moment. According to
the map that Mal found, we aren’t far from the back way out. We’ll need to go
through the barracks to reach it, though. That means more wolves.”

“We can manage wolves,” Rowan said steadily, “but not a company of ogres or
hobgoblins.”

“We have the map and the scroll Mal found,” Vlandar said. “We
should go now before the guards in the entry decide to come looking for us.”

“I will not leave,” Khlened said flatly. “We have found
little treasure, and this
is
a giants’ holding. There must be something
to make the journey thus far worthwhile.”

“You,” Vlandar said, “will follow orders. I will not remind
you again who is captain, Khlened. You would not last long in this place alone!”

The barbarian glared at him. After a moment, he nodded.
“Sorry, sir,” he said, though he didn’t sound it. “Forgot myself. I swore an
oath to you, I won’t shame my kind by breaking it.”

“Fair enough,” Vlandar said. “Let us go.”

He and Malowan dragged at the door, making enough room for
the larger of them to get through, but he was back at once. He and the paladin
leaned into the heavy slab of wood, forcing it shut. “Those wretched youths have
one of the doors to the great hall wide and they are still arguing about where
we went. They’ll see us if we move out, but they’ll likely discover the mess in
the kitchen any moment.”

Nemis took the warrior’s place against the door, a sleek
stone in his hand. “Market charm,” he murmured. “I haven’t many more reveal
spells memorized. This should work almost as well, though. There’s something
else—a party of creatures, I think—coming this way from the south. They’re
moving fast.”

Malowan spoke under his breath, and his eyes went wide.
“Norkers—a pack of them. I fear the search is on, Vlandar.”

“We cannot battle a hoard of norkers,” Rowan said.

“Aye,” Malowan agreed. “We leave—now or never.”

Vlandar backed away from the hall door and grabbed hold of
the other. “Down,” he ordered.

“No, not yet,” Malowan said. “Only if they come looking for
us here. Get that door partway open now. Nemis, be ready with that beneath
notice spell of yours. We can wait here, let them think we went on up the hall
seeking a way out. Once they’ve passed, we’ll have a chance at the entry.”

“Better than cutting ourselves off,” Khlened agreed softly.

“Shhh,” Maera hissed, then went silent herself as they heard
someone shouting nearby. The voices of several giants came from the hallway, and
they were growing louder. They were speaking a heavily accented Common as they
approached, but Lhors could pick out a few words here and there.

“Quick!” Vlandar hissed. “In the pantry!”

Everyone edged into the smelly pantry, and Vlandar eased the
door shut, leaving it open just enough to see out. Lhors, standing just behind
Vlandar, could see over the warrior’s shoulder.

Several heavy-footed brutes stormed into the large room. All
of them were armed and looked determined to shed blood. The giants looked
around, but none seemed to see anything.

Lhors clamped his jaw tight and refused to breathe.

“Door to the hall is open!” the lead giant bellowed. “You,
you, you”—he pointed as he spoke—“go after! Check pens and warn keeper to guard
door! You”—he motioned to the last giant—“come with me!”