Against the Giants (31 page)

Khlened shook himself. “’Course not!” But before anyone else
could say a word, he’d howled out a challenge and launched himself across the
chamber.

“Deliver me from berserkers!” Vlandar swore, and Lhors was
ready to agree with him, but to his surprise, Khlened stopped short of the
giant, waited for him to raise both his swords, then shifted grip from hilt to
point, and threw his sword. At that distance, he couldn’t miss. The blade buried
itself in the giant’s throat, and the Yrik-knecht hit the floor with a clang.
The giant landed on them half a breath later.

Khlened swore in obvious frustration, but before he could
seize either sword, a bulky giant with a massive stone in each hand came from an
alcove in the west wall and headed straight for him. Rowan shot arrow after
arrow at him, but they bounced off his armor or stuck in the fur he wore. Lhors
and Maera’s spears fared no better.

Nemis pressed her aside to launch a barrage of fireballs from
his fingers. The giant was unaware of him until his fur jacket and hair caught
fire. He dropped the stones and ran, arms flapping wildly as he tried to put
himself out. Another giant came from behind the wall to help him. Both went down
together, the burned one clutching his companion as both of them shrieked in
agony. Agya clutched her hands over her ears and retreated behind Malowan, eyes
tightly closed.

Nemis shifted his angle, hurling more fireballs as another
giant came around the north side of the ledge, but the giant brought up a
broad-bladed axe and parried them. Finally, one hit the floor by his feet. Nemis
grinned hugely.

“Khlened, stay
back!”
the mage roared as the barbarian
started toward the axe-wielder. “Floor’s slick where that fireball hit!”

The barbarian raised his just-retrieved morning star in
salute and braced his feet wide so he could swing the weapon as the giant glared
at him and raised the axe. As the fur-clad brute tried to close the distance
between them, his feet went from under him and his chin cracked on the icy
floor. Vlandar ran up and plunged his sword through the dazed brute’s eye.

He swore. The blade wouldn’t come back out. “Someone guard my
back while I free this!” he shouted, but Lhors and Rowan were at already inside
the chamber.

The ranger turned with a cry of warning and began firing a
deadly stream of arrows toward the south end of the ledge. Lhors turned to see
two giants charging from around the stone barrier.

“Beware, Khlened! Two are behind you!” Vlandar bellowed.

“See ’em!” the Fist shouted back. He threw himself across the
giant he’d killed and dropped the morning star to tug furiously at the hilt of
one of the swords, only letting it go at the last moment to catch up the ball
and chain. He swung it furiously and let it fly. The giant ducked, then went to
pick it up.

“Ah, frozen hells!” With a massive effort, Khlened dragged
one of the enormous swords free, wrapped both hands around the hilt, and began
to swing it. The second giant, who’d just come around the ledge, retreated
promptly, but the first had just retrieved the morning star and was in the
process of turning back to kill his enemy with his enemy’s own weapon.

Khlened roared out a challenge in his own language and let
the sword’s weight carry him around. He dug in his heels at the last moment and
let the blade do the rest. It sliced through thick fur and whatever hardened
leather the giant wore beneath. Blood sprayed everywhere. The barbarian was
momentarily blinded, but even as Malowan leaped forward to protect him, the
giant went down.

Khlened tottered back, bringing the weapon up again with an
effort that corded the tendons in his throat. As he turned, Nemis had just
finished off the last of them with some spell that left the monster swollen,
blue-faced, and very dead.

“Do not ask,” he said crisply.

“Wouldn’t of” the Fist replied flatly and knelt to wipe his
new sword on the giant’s fur before going back to retrieve his own sword.

Nemis went to help Khlened retrieve his blade. The Fist
finally dragged it free and wiped it on his dead enemy’s trousers.

“We go quickly,” Vlandar said as he gathered his company
close.

Nemis spoke. “Our way leads to the lower level through that
passage there.” He pointed to the south where Lhors could just make out a dimly
lit opening. “The master’s throne will be there—and his personal chambers. There
is no indication of a stronghold on the map for this level, but I think it
unlikely anything like the chain that brought us here from the Steading is up
here. It will be where the master can lay his hands on it.”

“Why’d we want t’go someplace else, eh?” Agya wanted to know.

The mage shrugged. “Because I know the drow. The dark elves
control the Steading giants. You and Malowan found the letter of orders from
drow to Nosnra. Because the drow are cautious and devious, they would never hide
in a place once removed from the hill giants. Likely their safety is another
spell or charm away from this place. Their mistress may well be beyond that.” He
shrugged again and managed a faint smile for the girl. “I know them. Drow
dislike such cold as this even more than you or I do.”

“Sensible of ’em,” the little thief allowed.

“Fought ’em once, that’s enough,” Khlened agreed. He looked
cheerful though, as he shoved the blood-blackened morning star into his belt and
mounted the scabbard for the two-handed sword on his back. Lhors tried not to
stare. The effort of drawing it corded the barbarian’s muscles, and the blade
and hilt together were nearly as tall as Khlened himself.

Bleryn snorted. “You’ll break your arms, swinging that
thing.”

Khlened laughed. “Yer just jealous that you didn’t think of
it first.”

“Th’ thing’s overlong for me,” the dwarf said with some
dignity. “Jealous of a blade,” he muttered under his breath as they started out
once more.

Agya and Malowan led the way through the cavern and out into
a passage that turned south for a short distance, then went sharply west. A ways
on, a branch went south and steeply down.

Agya sniffed cautiously but shrugged. Nothing near, Lhors
hoped it meant.

Malowan murmured a spell—another reveal one, perhaps. He
pointed west and shook his head almost at once, indicated the south way and
nodded firmly. Vlandar stepped aside to let Nemis ease partway down the south
passage. Whatever spell
he
used caused a very tiny puff of smoke. The
mage looked at Vlandar and gestured,
Giants. Others.

“Beings—many of them—well down the west tunnel,” Malowan
muttered, “but none close by. The passage stays level for a long ways and goes
around the Rift. That”—he nodded toward the south passage—“is our way.”

“Mmm,” Vlandar murmured agreement. “Remember,” he added to
all of them, “we get in and get what we need. We do nothing else here, unless I
say!”

Lhors saw Khlened and Bleryn exchange exasperated looks, but
neither said anything. Gerikh merely nodded and clutched his spear. Nemis was
already partway down the south passage.

“We keep quiet,” Vlandar cautioned. “Mal or Nemis will go in
front, and the other at the rear to keep us as undetected as possible. My nose,”
he added with a scowl, “is frozen and so are my ears. I want out of here before
the rest of me turns to ice.”

Greenish light still leaked through the ice, but it was not
as bright now that they were going deeper into the hold. They could still see
each other and ahead for at least four long strides, but beyond that was only
emerald dimness.

They reached level ground and emerged into a long,
high-vaulted cavern. Passages vanished into gloom south and east. It was very
quiet here, and neither Malowan nor Nemis could find any sign of guards down the
passages. The mage froze, hands moving in some spell and eyes fixed on an
enormous boulder leaning against the east wall.

“There is a dragon beyond that,” he breathed.

“Dragon?” Khlened demanded softly. His eyes gleamed, but
before he could move, Vlandar gripped his shoulder and shook his head. The
barbarian cast his eyes up but turned away.

“Remember what I said above!” the warrior ordered quietly.
“We are not in this place for treasure or to kill dragons!”

“Aye, sir.” Khlened cast one last wistful look at the blocked
entry. “Which way’s ours, then? Yon?” He pointed at the south passages.

Malowan shook his head.

“Giants?” asked Rowan.

“Something unpleasant,” Malowan whispered. “To the west,
giants. Our way.”

Nemis was already across the chamber, hands flat on a massive
slab of stone. Malowan went over to join him while Vlandar beckoned the others
close. “There are guards in the chamber beyond,” he whispered. “They will be
warned someone is here when that stone is moved. It won’t be quiet. If we can
lure them into this area…”

Lhors swallowed dread. Was Vlandar asking him to volunteer?

But the warrior had already turned to Agya. “You’ll go into
their sight, hesitate only long enough to draw them, then run.”

The little thief was very pale. She bit her lip and nodded.

“Good lass. Everyone else, along the west wall where no one
inside will see you. Go.”

Vlandar drew Lhors with him to the north. Khlened and Bleryn
joined them, while the rangers, Gerikh, and Florimund went south. Agya raised
her chin, shoved the hood from her short red hair, and found a place nearly
mid-cavern to stand where she’d be seen.

Nemis motioned for Malowan to get back then raised his hands.
The boulder vibrated and emitted a clear, deep tone, like an enormous bell. In
the silence that followed, they could hear two or more guards mumbling just
beyond as the stone silently moved toward them. At Nemis’ gesture, it glided to
the side and came to rest against the south wall. Lhors could just make out
Rowan kneeling behind it, an arrow at the ready. Malowan blocked his view south.
The youth turned his head so he could watch Agya.

The little thief’s eyes were huge, but she held her ground as
two leather-clad brutes, one clutching a huge chunk of ice, emerged cautiously
and stared at the girl. Her lips twitched in a nervous grin. “N-nice t’see it’s
only
two
’f ya in there!” She turned and sprinted toward the upper level,
and the guards casually went after her. One was chuckling, and the brute with
the ice tossed it over his shoulder. Easy prey, they clearly thought.

Malowan stood so near Lhors, he could hear the paladin
quietly praying. “Heironeous, see my need and judge of my worth: I ask of you a
hammer.” It made no sense to Lhors, but suddenly a ruddy light formed above the
man’s head, elongating and shifting to resemble a warhammer. The paladin gazed
at the giants who were nearly upon his ward and whispered, “Go!” The hammer flew
across the chamber, slamming into one enormous head and then the other. The
first giant went to his knees, clutching his skull. The second fell flat and did
not move.

Before Malowan could use the weapon again, Khlened, Bleryn,
and Vlandar were across the room, weapons drawn, and the guards were dispatched
without a fight—and with scarcely any sound other than the bell-like sound
Nemis’ spell on the stone had made.

The two dead guards were dragged partway up the tunnel near
the entry passage, which Nemis had already checked. “It goes nowhere, and
nothing lives there,” he assured Vlandar.

Rowan got Lhors’ attention and drew him into the next
chamber with her, leaving Maera to manage Florimund. The youth glanced back,
caught Vlandar’s nod, and went, a spear ready to throw in one hand and three
bunched in the other.

This new chamber was long and relatively narrow—a true cavern
instead of an ice cave. Other caves branched off here and there, and
outcroppings of rock blocked their view ahead. He could only tell
that
much because there was light somewhere beyond them.

Plenty of places to hide,
Rowan signed as the others came
up. Malowan nodded. Agya leaned against him, eyes still huge. Guess she really
was scared, Lhors thought. She didn’t seem to like letting the paladin hold her
very often. Beyond the pair, Lhors could just make out Nemis, resettling the
great stone against the entry.

It was very quiet here, and though the wind at their backs
died away as the rock settled into place, it was still dreadfully cold. Lhors’
fingertips were going to ice prickles through the thick mitts.

Malowan drew them to a halt midway down the cavern where it
suddenly narrowed. A broad opening went south into darkness. Agya hesitated
here, sniffing gingerly. Her nose wrinkled. Something unpleasant there, Lhors
was certain. As they passed the entry, even he could smell the unlovely mix of
unwashed bodies, rotting bits of meat, and foul blankets.

The cavern widened again, and there seemed to be rock walls
everywhere, making lighting from the west uncertain. Lhors thought he could see
another boulder to their north—perhaps another doorway. He shifted his grip on
the spears so he had one ready to throw and hoped they weren’t going to go
there—or into a lot of unpleasant dead-ends and near-traps, as they had in the
Steading. Vlandar won’t let us, he reminded himself. Indeed, Vlandar glanced
that way and as Khlened eyed it curiously, Vlandar tapped the barbarian on the
arm and firmly shook his head. The Fist shrugged, then nodded, and turned his
attention back to the main way.