Against the Giants (18 page)

“Move, all of you!” Vlandar ordered. “The whole Steading’ll
be roused against us before much longer. Rowan, grab that torch on the hearth
and light it!”

“Down?” Nemis asked as he backed away.

“No choice,” the warrior replied steadily, but Lhors didn’t
think he looked very happy about it.

Vlandar picked Maera up and ran with her. Rowan scooped up
the torch, plunged it into the fire until it caught, then followed. Everyone
else filed in behind her. Malowan brought up the rear, backing around the corner
just as loud voices reached them and the bespelled door slammed back into the
wall.

“That cost me a good blade,” Khlened mumbled as he leaned
into the pantry door to shut it.

“Better than your life,” Rowan snapped breathlessly.

“Silence, all of you!” Vlandar hissed. “Nemis, what can you
do with stone?”

“Enough, I think,” the mage said. He was peering down the
stairs. “There is no one anywhere nearby down there, but if there is a way out,
I cannot sense it from here.”

“We’ll find one,” Vlandar said grimly. “We’ve no choice now.
Go! All of you! Down! We’ll follow.”

Maera, finally beginning to shake off her daze, edged past
them. “My eyes are better in dark, and I don’t trust anyone but me or Rowan with
our only light. I’ll go first.”

She went down a long, straight flight. Lhors went next, with
the barbarian right behind him. Some distance down, the youth thought he saw
light ahead beside Maera’s flickering torch, and when they reached the last
step, he could clearly see the ranger and the chamber beyond. Two torches were
shoved in niches on the far wall—but it wasn’t far enough for Lhors. It looked
like a short corridor, but it was closed off at both ends, and there were no
doors or openings of any kind that he could see.

Maera turned in place, staring thoughtfully at the walls
while her sister laid her ear against one. “It’s not a trap,” she assured Lhors.

“How can y’tell?” Khlened asked. He looked very pale in the
ruddy light.

Agya came up behind him, sling in one hand and a stone for it
in the other, then set herself to watch the stairs, only relaxing when Malowan
came down. Nemis came last, some moments behind Vlandar.

“It’s still quiet up there,” he said, “but I would move as
far from the stairs as you can.”

“Aye,” Khlened said. “The giants’ll know we’ve come here by
now. Won’t be much for ’em to take us, will it?”

“This is
not
a trap,” Maera repeated, this time loud
enough for everyone to hear. She tugged at Lhors’ sleeve and brought him back
from the door that led to the stairs. “The giants have no reason to build a
stair down to a dead end. The doors are hidden, but they are here.”

“The giants will not come down those stairs immediately,”
Nemis said, “not after the fight we just gave them. They will take time to
regroup and better prepare themselves. But in a moment, those stairs will
collapse. I set a device partway down that is dissolving the bonds between the
stones.”

Khlened caught his breath sharply as the little chamber
rumbled and shook. Shards of stone and a puff of dust sifted down from the
chamber.

“I suggest we move away,” Nemis said with forced calm.

The party quickly shuffled into the rear of the chamber as
fast as they could. They had gathered in a tight huddle when the entire
staircase fell with an ear-shattering rumble. Everyone spent several moments
coughing and sneezing away the dust and grit.

“There,” the mage said after a while. He looked pleased. “The
way is blocked from bottom to top, and Mal used a spell to seal the upper door.
It’s as good as any locking spell I have, but I had learned none for today.”

“Just as well,” Malowan said. “We had more need of your
protective spells.”

“Look,” Maera said. “See? The dust is going. There’s a hole
or two in this place.”

“Holes,” Khlened whispered. The barbarian was sweating, his
eyes fixed on the blocked entry. “What if there’s no bigger opening?”

“There is,” Nemis said firmly, “and I will find it, but I
would like a few minutes to rest and catch my breath first.”

“Huh,” Agya snorted. “If there’s a door from this place, I’ll
find it right now.”

“No,” Malowan said. “Nemis is right. Sit and catch your
breath. He and I need to be certain there’s no great danger for us out there.”

The mage smiled tiredly. “Danger? What? In the dungeons of
the Steading?” His lips moved briefly, soundlessly. “There are creatures near,
but not very near. They are not coming any closer. We’ll do here, for the
moment.”

“We’d been better above,” Khlened said, possibly to himself.

Malowan shook his head. “Four giants and a hobgoblin guarding
the way out, and at least four giant guards with clubs and their chief in the
feast hall. We managed by luck and skill to injure or kill some, but that luck
would not have lasted.”

“It would not,” Nemis said, his eyes closed. “Nosnra was
bellowing orders for one of them to loose his cave bear.”

“Bear?” Agya whispered, her eyes suddenly huge.

“It cannot come this way,” Malowan reminded her. “Besides all
of that, Nosnra’s lady was bellowing for aid. We could never have held out
against a dozen or more giants.”

The barbarian grunted.

“So, that
was
Yk’nea?” Rowan asked. “I thought it
might be, the way she was shouting orders—especially at the last. Did you hear
her? She sounded genuinely afraid.”

“She was,” Nemis said. “She was shouting at Nosnra—something
about ‘they do not accept failure’ or some such.”

Malowan moved away from the wall where he had been listening.
“Nemis, there is more than one stair to the dungeon level, you know.”

“I know, but there is nothing to be done for it now. We seem
to have thrown off pursuit for the time being. I think we are safe for a while
at least.”

“Safe?” Khlened inquired dryly. “How can we be safe when y’
just cut off our only way out?”

“It was not our
only
exit,” Nemis replied, “but it
will cut off our pursuers for now. Returning to the fortress is no longer an
option with the whole place roused against us. We must find another way.”

Khlened growled something that Lhors couldn’t make out and
stomped away.

“We must take a short while to rest,” Vlandar said, “then
move on. We’ll set watches two at a time so no one falls asleep. Nemis, would
you rather have another watch than the first?”

Nemis shrugged. “I’m no more tired than you or anyone else.
I’ll take first with Agya. She wants to find doors, and I would like to test
what I can of the space around this chamber.”

Vlandar nodded and moved into the far corner, pulled his hood
low over his eyes, and stretched out on the stone floor. Khlened was already
down, eyes closed, and as Lhors looked for a place that might somehow be more
comfortable, he saw the rangers settle with their backs against the wall and
lean into each other to rest sitting up. Rowan’s strung bow lay by her leg, two
arrows set close to the string where she could readily lay hands on them. Maera
had two spears leaning against the wall near her shoulder.

Lhors feared that despite what they knew from the scrolls,
the giants had other ways to the lower levels. He didn’t want to think about
such a thing. He’d be too afraid to sleep, and he desperately needed to rest. He
pulled two boar spears from his case and settled down against the wall partway
between Vlandar and Rowan. The warrior seemed to be asleep.

As Lhors settled his small pack under his head and lay down,
he caught Rowan looking at him. The ranger glanced at his spears, smiled at him,
and nodded approvingly. She then closed her eyes. Lhors sighed very faintly and
closed his own.

Lhors woke some time later, too warm and disoriented from a
deep but inadequate sleep. After his share of the watch, he sought his corner
again. It was utterly quiet all around them, leaving him to wonder if there was
anyone alive on this level except his party. Don’t think that or you won’t
sleep, he ordered himself. Oddly, no one seemed to be trying to dig down through
the rubble of the broken stairway.

Lhors soon fell into a doze, vaguely aware of the others and
the hard stone beneath his hip. He woke some time later to find Nemis prowling
the little chamber, now and again mumbling under his breath or leaning against
the wall and listening intently. He held open the large book that Lhors already
knew was the mage’s tome of spells. Memorizing spells, Lhors realized. Vlandar
had said both mage and paladin needed to learn anew each spell they might want
to use each time. Malowan sat nearby, helping Vlandar out of his armor.

“I do apologize if this hurts,” the paladin said as the
warrior hissed in pain, “but the healing touch works faster if I can lay my
hands on the wound itself.”

The warrior grunted. “Just not so quickly, Mal! A man of my
years gets mightily stiff after sleeping on hard stone. Ah, better.” He met
Lhors’ eyes and smiled.

“I didn’t know you were hurt up there, sir,” the youth said,
and his heart sank.

Malowan glanced at him. “It’s not so bad, a bit worse than a
scratch. Most paladins can heal scratches, and I can heal far worse.”

Vlandar winced as he raised his arm to look down at his ribs.
The skin was very pale except for a massive bruise running from armpit to his
hip. “This’ll teach me to be faster on my feet,” he said, forcing a pained
smile. “No blood running down my side. Must not hurt me, as my old father used
to say.”

Lhors managed a smile in reply, but he didn’t feel much
better. Vlandar is a good man, a friend, a little like Father. Suddenly, Lhors
couldn’t bear to think that Vlandar might die here. He looked up to see the
warrior’s steady gaze on him. The man often seemed to sense what the village
youth was thinking.

“Fortunately, I’m fast enough on my feet and reasonably
skilled with my blades.”

“And smart enough to back off when the opposition is
unbeatable,” Malowan added. He laid his hands lightly on the warrior’s side.
Vlandar set his jaw, but a moment later, the warrior smiled and flexed his
shoulder.

Lhors stared in amazement. Where there had been an ugly
blue-black bruise, there was now no sign of injury except for a very old scar,
much like one of his father’s.

“And smart enough to bring a paladin with me in case I do get
hurt,” Vlandar added and drew his thick blue jerkin down over his head.

“Khlened,” Malowan said as he rose, “I swear you were cut up
there.”

“Nothing so bad,” the barbarian grumbled.

Lhors could see a little dried blood on the man’s hand. He
was stripping off the few bits of wicker armor he wore on his forearms and
tossing them aside. “All the coin I paid that yellow-eyed southerner for this
fancy stuff, man’d think it’d take a blow or two.”

“Your southerner probably never planned on fighting giants,”
Malowan said. He got up and resettled next to the barbarian. “I am surprised it
worked as well as it did. Here, sit still a moment. Let me.”

Eyes apprehensive, Khlened edged away as the paladin held out
his hands.

“You needn’t strip off your shirt for me, man. Or for Rowan
and Maera.”

To Lhors’ surprise, the northerner blushed a furious red.

“Just tell me where you’re hurt and I can manage.”

“Two places,” Khlened mumbled, eyes fixed on his hands. His
color was still high. “One on th’ left shoulder under all that broken wicker.
It’s more a bruise than a cut, I think, but it stings bad. I think a small bone
in my right forearm is broke. Something grinds in there when I move it.”

“Don’t move it then,” the paladin replied, exasperated, “and
hold still!”

He laid hands on the barbarian’s shoulder, and the man
flinched away from him with a hiss of pain.

“Don’t dig into m’ flesh like that, then,” Khlened snarled,
but he set his jaw and closed his eyes.

Malowan ran two fingers lightly over the soft leather
under-armor.

“Bruise and possibly a cut, is it?” he inquired
sarcastically.

“No bruise?” Khlened gritted between his teeth.

Malowan snorted. “Oh, no. Try one the size of my palm and a
cut as long as my fingers! You’re lucky to be alive, friend. Another knuckle’s
worth down and you’d have bled to death in moments.” Light suddenly puddled
around the paladin’s fingertips. “Lucky for you, I’ve the strength for this now.
Another time I might be out cold with my own injuries.”

Khlened caught his breath, then let it out in a relieved
sigh. Malowan now cupped his hands around the forearm, not quite touching it.
“Before you ask, the bone is broken but not all the way through. You punched
someone up there with your fist or that sword, didn’t you?”

“P’raps. I don’t remember.” Khlened flexed his fingers
cautiously as the paladin sat back.