The Sword And The Dragon (44 page)

Mikahl had to admit to himself that he liked the feel of Ironspike in his hands. Its magical symphony was glorious and thrilling to experience, but he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be a king. The elf, who had been in the sick bed next to Lord Gregory when the old lion had told Mikahl who his father was, had later said, “Your lack of want is most likely why you were the one King Balton wanted to be his heir.”

When Mikahl had asked Vaegon what that meant, the elf said, “One who wants to be a king, obviously wants the title for all the wrong reasons. No good, reasonable, or honorable man would want to have the responsibility of ruling over others. He might accept that responsibility as his duty, but he would be wary of it, not crave it.”

Mikahl thought long and hard about that, and it made sense. Prince Glendar had always wanted to succeed his father, and Mikahl couldn’t imagine that spoiled brat being either fair or honorable. He hated to think what sort of shape Westland was in at the moment. Mikahl figured that chaos reigned between the land holders, the nobility, and the new king. 

He was torn from his thoughts, by the sudden appearance of Talon fluttering into the cavern. The hawkling landed near the fire, and began chirping, and pacing back and forth excitedly. Mikahl and Loudin both looked at Vaegon with alarm on their faces. The elf had been traveling with Hyden when they had met them, so it was up to him to interpret what the bird was trying to convey.

The possibilities of mishap were endless in this sort of terrain; falling rock, falling ice, collapsing footholds, not to mention the vast array of predators that called these inhospitable mountains home. Everyone’s mind raced through the myriad possibilities of harm that might have befallen Hyden. Loudin went so far as to throw on his coat and start digging through the packs for rope.

“Is Hyden alright?” Vaegon asked Talon. 

He wasn’t as worried as the other two. He was sure that if Hyden was in a dire situation, Talon would be pecking on one of their heads with his sharp beak, or trying to pull one of them up to his feet, with a claw full of hair. Neither Hyden, nor his hawkling familiar, were capable of much subtlety.

The bird squawked in response to the question. Vaegon took that as a negative. 

“What then?” he asked.

Loudin paused his rummaging.

“Has he found Borg?” he asked hopefully.

Talon cawed out, and leapt into the air. After circling the cavern once, he landed on Loudin’s head, and cooed. An almost visible blanket of relief lifted from them all.

“I think we should make up some sort of code to talk with Hyden through Talon,” Mikahl said, while giving the hawkling a peculiar look. “Hyden, have Talon peck Loudin’s head twice, if you agree.”

Talon cocked his head to the side for a moment, and then leaned over, and sharply pecked the old hunter’s forehead twice. Before Loudin could react, Talon flew to the other side of the fire, landed near Mikahl, and bobbed his head up and down with glee. Mikahl and Vaegon burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. Loudin scowled at them, and rubbed the red spot on his forehead briskly. Hyden, like Mikahl, had a great sense of humor.

The giant, Borg, stood just over fourteen feet tall. He wasn’t even close to being the tallest of his race. The club he carried – he called it a staff – was made out of the trunk of an old pine tree, whose resin like sap had been hardened in the Cauldron at Afdeon. The base of it was as big around as Hyden’s waist, and so were the giant’s upper arms. Borg’s hair was long, dark, and streaked with silvery gray, as was the thick beard, which trailed down his chest. His pants, and knee length vest coat, were a patchwork of thick furred animal skins. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was made from a dark and well tanned elk’s hide. His boots looked to be made of a thicker sort of pelt. The fur was as white as the snow he was standing in. Mounted on the bridge of each foot, was a toothy skull that matched the one mounted on his belt buckle. What the giant’s hair, mustache, and beard didn’t cover of his face, the long bushy eyebrows did. Even though his eyes were the size of plums, they seemed hidden underneath them. The huge slab of Borg’s forehead was the most prominent, and the most exposed of his features.

Hyden saw a glint of curiosity sparkle from the depths of Borg’s sockets, as the approaching giant mused over his sudden burst of laughter. Hyden didn’t think he could explain the long distance jest that had just played out on Loudin’s skull, so he did his best to suppress his mirth. 

Borg was more than a little intimidating, even to one who had met him before. Hyden wanted to be taken seriously by the Southern Guardian, because he was sure that Mikahl’s business with King Aldar was important, as well as urgent. He put on a face, similar to the ones he’d seen his father and grandfather use when dealing with the giants: stern and serious. He then searched his memory of Berda’s tales for a hint of the proper etiquette and greeting to use in the situation. 

Confident now that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, Hyden started through the ice and snow to greet Borg. He caught himself fighting back a grin as he went. He hadn’t been able to see Loudin’s expression when he told Talon to peck his head, but he imagined it was a sight to see. His grin faded, when the deep creases of concern splitting Borg’s huge forehead became clear through the swirling snow. It was an intense look, a look that cut far deeper into Hyden than the icy blast of wind that preceded the giant.

“What business would cause you to guide two kingdom men, and an elf, into these lands, son of Harrap?” Borg asked harshly. 

Hyden couldn’t believe that the giant recognized him as his father’s son, but he had.

Obviously the giant wouldn’t know which son he was, so he clarified the matter. 

“I am Hyden, eldest son of Harrap,” Hyden said. “One of the kingdom men, a tattooed hunter called Loudin, says he knows you. He has brought something of value he thinks you will want to barter for.”

Hyden paused to gauge Borg’s reaction. He hoped the giant actually knew Loudin and remembered him if he did. The giant’s nod assured him that it was so. 

“The other kingdom man has urgent messages for King Aldar. He carries those and a sword that –”   He let his voice trail off there. He wasn’t sure how much information he should divulge. He didn’t want to mislead Borg, nor did he want to betray Mikahl’s trust. He found that he suddenly wished he hadn’t mentioned the sword at all.

Borg was silent for a long moment. He looked haggard, and worried over serious matters beyond the issue before him. Hyden noticed that there were dark stains all around the base of the giant’s big staff. Some were old, and a brownish black in color, but some were slick and glossy red. A patch of yellow could be seen where a piece of the wood had been chipped or torn away recently.

“What about the elf?” Borg finally asked.

“The elf,” Hyden searched for an explanation that made sense, but couldn’t come up with one. He ended up saying the first thing that came to his mind, which was also the least believable of any answer he could have given. “Vaegon is my friend.”

With a doubtful scowl, Borg seemed to accept this. He let out a deep sigh, and nodded for Hyden to lead him. As Hyden complied, Borg’s spoke from behind him.  

“It is a sign of strange times when any member of the Skyler Clan chooses to befriend an elf, but a bridge between the two races has long been needed.”

Hyden had to hurry and scramble to stay ahead of Borg’s huge strides. He wanted to ask about Berda, but couldn’t find the words, or the moment, to speak them. He cared deeply for the giantess who had educated him through the telling of her tales, while her husband grazed his big horned goats in the valleys around the Skyler Clan village. He had a feeling that if he didn’t see her while he was here in the mountains, that it would be a long while before he had the chance again. He wanted to ask her about the man named Pratchert, who eventually became the wizard, Dahg Mahn. He wanted her to see Talon, and to ask her what she knew about such a bonding. All of that aside, he just plain wanted to see her, and hear her soft voice, as she carried him away to some grand and far off place for an adventure. It came as a shock when Borg, seeming to have read part of his thoughts, asked him a question.

“So Hyden Hawk, where is your familiar?”

Hyden took two more steps, then stopped abruptly, and turned. 

“How do you know about Talon?” His tone was as curious as it was fearful.

“I talk with the animals as you do, Hyden Hawk.” Borg made sure that his tone wasn’t severe. He hadn’t meant to alarm the boy in any way. “They help me with my duty. Sooner or later, I hear of everything that happens in these mountains. How else do you think I could guard such a vast border by myself? For the moment, you and Talon are the envy of the skies. All the birds are chirping about it.”

“I can only communicate with Talon,” Hyden said, as he turned and started walking again.

“You will grow into your power far sooner than you’ll like,” Borg told him. “It’s something that takes time to develop. Usually, necessity brings out the abilities you have happened upon. And I am afraid that using your gift will become a necessity before too long.” 

The giant sighed again, as they continued stalking through the snow. 

“Bad things have been loosed upon the world recently. I think that maybe you and your group may have met one of them already.”

The idea that there were more things out there like the hellcat that had killed Lord Gregory and half blinded Vaegon, made Hyden shudder. He wondered what sort of things they could be and what they were after. The hellcat had seemed concerned only with Mikahl, or maybe it was that magical sword he wielded. Either way, Hyden was sure that he would find out more about the kingdom men than he really wanted to. 

He was relieved when they finally reached the cavern, and at least for a while, his mind wouldn’t be idle to dwell on such dire possibilities.

Borg had to duck into the cavern, and ended up sitting cross-legged by the fire, with his head brushing the soot blackened ceiling. Hyden introduced him to everyone and them to him.          

When Mikahl rose and bowed formally, as Westland custom dictated, he got a good look at the massive Southern Guardian. He was shocked, and relieved at what he saw. The things his countrymen had fought at Coldfrost hadn’t been giants at all. He couldn’t picture them as even being half breeds. 

Borg was just a great big human, where those things had been semi-intelligent beasts. The contrast between what Mikahl had expected, and what was before him, confounded him so much that he forgot to ask Borg the questions that had been eating away at him for the last few days. He was so relieved, that he forgot about everything for a while, at least until he caught the giant eyeing King Balton’s sword.

After everyone had been introduced, and all the formalities had been taken care of, Loudin attracted Borg’s attention by carefully unrolling a few feet of the bark lizard skin. The size of the cavern wouldn’t allow him to show any more of it, but he didn’t need the extra room. Like some monstrous baby, Borg crawled on hands and knees over to the roll to examine it closer. 

The horses whinnied as Mikahl, Vaegon, and Hyden were forced to cram against them in the now over crowded space. For a moment, Vaegon thought that the giant’s fur covered boots were going to end up in the fire, and Hyden had a flashback of watching Gerard riding his father’s back around the fire when he was a boy. If any of the group dared to climb on the giant’s back, it would have looked about the same. 

Mikahl, with his hands protectively on Ironspike’s hilt, was still trying to get his breath. The giant was huge, and Mikahl kept comparing him to what he had expected him to be like. The breed giants at Coldfrost, had been eight to nine feet tall at best. Their faces were crude, with wet, slightly upturned noses, jutting jaws, and a single thick brow, that ran unbroken over both eyes and across the bridge of the nose. They were wild and primal, half man, half beast. Borg, even on all fours cooing like an excited farm wife at a cloth merchant’s lace display, was nothing like them at all. He was more like an excited child, an excited human child. Since the giant’s attention had shifted from Ironspike, Mikahl let himself relax, but only a little bit. He absently patted Windfoot’s flanks and watched as Loudin and Borg hogged most of the space the cavern offered, and argued about a price for the skin.

Borg wanted the thing, that was obvious. He said he would have to take a short journey to fetch the amount of gold, and other items that Loudin wanted in exchange for the roll. He explained to Mikahl that he would take the scrolls to King Aldar, and bring back the King’s responses. It might take him three days to return, but they could wait for him in the relative warmth of the valley beyond this ridge.

“What of the sword?” Mikahl asked dutifully, if a little reluctantly. 

King Balton had told him to present it to the giant king, but in truth, Mikahl didn’t want to part with it now. He had grown attached to the strength and confidence it gave him. He wasn’t about to let Borg take it. If he had to hand it over, he would only hand it over to King Aldar himself.

“If my King requires it, he or I will return for it,” Borg said, with his eyes glued to the jeweled hilt. “It is far easier for my people to travel in these lands than it is for you.”

“Aye,” Mikahl agreed with a grateful bow. “I agree with you completely.”

He could spend the rest of his days happy if he never saw another snow-capped mountain peak in his life. 

“If King Aldar does have to have the sword, I would only give it to him personally. I hope you understand.”

“So be it,” Borg replied flatly.

Hyden interrupted the exchange, and asked Borg if he knew the whereabouts of Berda, and a short private conversation between the two of them ensued. Eventually, Talon introduced himself by fluttering down and landing on Borg’s shoulder. The giant smiled broadly and commented on the healthy condition of the hawkling. Soon after, the giant bade them farewell.