Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (16 page)

The giants broke out in a rowdy bout of laughter, elbowing each other and pointing down at him — as if they could hardly believe such a silly creature existed.

Kael’s face burned hot under their jeers, but he wasn’t about to be defeated. “All right — who is it, then? Where’s your Prince?”

“Here!” Declan said.

But before Kael could be properly shocked, the other giants began calling:

“Here!”

“Over here!”

“No —
I’m
the Prince today, you clodders!”

They dissolved into chuckles once again, and Brend goaded them on: “Gilderick tried to kill him, didn’t he? He tried to wipe out the Prince’s whole family! But that’s the problem with the giants: we’re
all
family. As long as there’s a giant left alive, the plains will have a Prince. He’s here among us,” Brend said, sweeping his arms around. “One wee little Princeling cousin — a fellow so far down the line that not even the bloodtraitors could remember him. We’ve kept him safe all these years. And when the time’s right, we’ll put him back on the throne.”

The giants let out a barking cheer, and Kael suddenly understood. “You wouldn’t give him up.”

Brend’s mouth fell open in mock surprise. “He’s got us figured out, lads — we’d better crush his wee head!”

Eveningwing sprang to Kael’s side, shielding him with a feathered elbow. His sharp eyes stabbed at the giants, warning them. And their laughter dried up immediately.

“It’s all right. They’re only joking,” Kael said, peeling Eveningwing to the side.

Well, he
hoped
the giants were joking. But with Brend, it was always difficult to tell.

*******

That next day, the ground was still too wet to do any planting. So Hob ordered that the giants spend their time tending to the plows: they were to oil the harnesses, check the frames for cracks, and take the blades to the castle to be sharpened.

Kael was wondering how many fingers he might expect to lose when Hob shouted: “I need a team of beasts to go with Churl to the Pens — they’ve run out of straw for their blasted animals.”

Brend and Declan’s hands shot into the air. Kael’s arm almost came out of its socket as Brend jerked his wrist skyward, volunteering him.

Hob’s lips pinched around his chew. “A rat? And the two of you again?” He scanned the crowd, but none of the other giants raised their hands. “All right, I suppose you’ll do —”

“No, you can’t send
them
,” Finks sputtered. He’d just emerged from one of the sheds behind the barns, a clump of Fallows in tow.

The Fallows stood pigeon-toed behind him. Their milky eyes sat dead, and their mouths hung slack. Each one had a shovel propped over his shoulder. Kael realized that they must’ve been going to dig a fresh latrine.

That was the one good thing about the Fallows: they did all of the tasks that nobody else wanted — like pulling Churl’s wagon, and filling in the old latrines. And they never once complained.

They
were
a bit difficult to control, though. Even now, they didn’t seem to notice that Finks had come to a stop: the Fallow nearest to him trod on the back of his heel, and he yelped.

“Back! Get
back
!” he screeched. He flayed them with his whip until they slunk away, then he spun back to Hob. “That little rat will be no good to you.” His lips parted over his teeth in a sly grin. “Why don’t you put him in my charge for the day?”

More than anything, Kael didn’t want to spend his day digging latrines. The odor rising from the mire was so powerful that it singed his lungs. He always tried to keep his visits quick and to the point.

Fortunately, Hob was having none of it. “You’re not the foreman, here —
I
am. And if I say the rat is fit enough to toss hay, then so he is. Now get back to your work.”

Finks stomped off in a huff, and the Fallows trailed along behind him — waddling like a line of the largest, most unfortunate-looking ducklings Kael had ever laid eyes on.

As soon as Finks was out of sight, Hob chased them away with a few blows of his whip. Kael followed the giants to a shed behind Northbarn — one so large that it was almost a barn itself.

The shed was packed from floor to ceiling with straw. Declan handed Kael a tool that he recognized as a pitchfork. He’d seen pictures of them before, but never actually used one. He learned quickly that they were less a tool than a four-headed spear.

“Watch it, wee rat!” Brend called from over his shoulder. Kael stood back — but not nearly far enough.

Brend tossed a forkful of hay and Kael had to drop on all fours to keep from getting stabbed. “What in Kingdom’s name are you —?”

“I told you to stand back,” Brend said. He held his pitchfork out to Kael. “You see, what we do with these strange little things is scoop up great loads of hay —”

“I know what they’re for,” Kael snapped back. His hand burned furiously where Eveningwing had scratched him, and he was in no mood for Brend’s heckling.

“Stand by the wagon and load the hay we toss,” Declan said, jabbing his fork behind him.

Churl was parked a few paces outside of the shed. They’d taken the water barrels out of his wagon, leaving the bed empty. The giants tossed straw out in loads over their shoulders, where it landed in a neat pile in front of Churl. And it was Kael’s job to scoop it into the wagon.

The shaft of the pitchfork had clearly been made for giant hands: try as he might, Kael couldn’t get a good grip on it. His fingers stretched out until it pulled painfully on the wounded skin of his hand. The top end of the pitchfork was so heavy that he had to wedge it against his chest and try to lever it over his shoulder.

By the time he got the first load tossed back, most of the hay had slipped out between the prongs — dumping down upon his head.

Straw stuck in Kael’s hair and to the sweat on his face. It fluttered beneath his collar and hung onto his back, itching him mercilessly with even the smallest movement. He shook the tail of his shirt, trying to force the straw out, but the sweat on his back held the itching bits to his skin like paste.

While Kael struggled, the giants made short work of the hay. He watched in amazement as they tossed heaping forkfuls over their shoulders. Their movements were deft and practiced: they bent over and around each other, turning like companions locked in battle. Brend’s long arms hoisted high and up, while Declan launched bundles of straw in quick, heaving motions.

They had the whole shed cleared out in the time it took Kael to make a dozen throws.

“Shoo, wee thing!” Brend said, chasing Kael away from the pile. “This is a giant’s work.”

Once they had the straw loaded, the giants hopped into the wagon. Kael grimaced as the wheels groaned under their weight. They pulled Kael in by his belt, and he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around the wagon’s rails. He’d seen Churl drive before, and he would take no chances.

Once they were all wedged in, Brend jabbed the butt of his pitchfork against the driver’s bench. And Churl — who’d been staring fixedly at the clouds for quite some time — snapped to life.

“Move, move,
move
!” he squawked, swinging his whip in a flurry of lashes.

The team of Fallows roared and took off — sprinting down the road as fast as their thick legs could carry them. The wagon rocked dangerously as it bumped over rocks and divots; little bits of hay streamed out behind them. Kael’s feet left the ground several times.

And had he not been holding on for his life, he probably would’ve been thrown to his death.

Chapter 15

The Scepter Stone

Across the main road from the Fields lay the Pens. They filled the land on the other side of Gilderick’s castle: a patchwork of neat little fences that hemmed the earth into squares, each filled with an astonishing number of animals.

Kael had never seen so many creatures in one place. At first, he thought that all animals must live inside little paddocks, like the ones that dotted the Valley. Then he’d been surprised the first time he saw the pirates return from a raid with a large clump of cattle perched atop one of their ships. He remembered thinking how strange it was for so many great creatures to sit quietly, completely untroubled by the fact that they were trapped on a tiny boat.

He wondered why they hadn’t tried to escape.

Now as he looked out at the Pens, he couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. There were so many of them, and their fences were so small, that Kael couldn’t believe that the animals hadn’t tried to flee into the wilds. But they didn’t so much as raise their furry heads to look at the lands beyond their fences: they were far too concerned with their grazing.

Herds of sheep wandered through the plots, their meaty sides covered in snow-white wool. They grazed contently on early shoots of grass while their lambs scampered about them on gangly legs — sparing with the tops of their hornless heads.

Kael held his nose when they passed by the pigpen. The stench rising up from the black mud was so potent that he could taste it in the back of his throat. He watched as several giants high-stepped through the filth, trying to corner some of the pigs.

Despite their enormous size, the pigs moved surely on their stubby legs. The mud coating their backs must’ve made them extra slippery: a number of the filthy creatures simply squeezed through the giants’ arms and shot off in the opposite direction. After a considerable amount of chasing, one of the giants finally managed to grab a pig.

It was the size of a small bathtub. Kael watched in amazement as the giant snatched it up, hauling the whole squealing, wriggling thing over his massive shoulders. Though the pig fought desperately, it couldn’t escape. It squealed all the more loudly as the giant carried it up the path, towards a second tower.

This tower was made of the same red brick as the castle, so Kael figured it must’ve been fairly new. There wasn’t any smoke coming out of its top, but a large cloud of carrion birds circled it constantly.

He immediately felt sorry for the pig.

“We call it the Grinder,” Declan said when Kael pointed it out.

His stomach twisted in a knot. “What does it grind, exactly?”

“Anything they toss into it — including nosy little mountain rats,” Brend said. The wagon bumped to a stop next to another large shed, and he leapt out. “Now stand aside and leave us to our work.”

Since Kael was next to useless with a pitchfork, he had no problem standing out of the giants’ way. While they unloaded the wagon, he busied himself with trying to fish the straw from the back of his trousers. He wasn’t very successful.

“That ought to do it,” Brend said cheerily, slamming the doors shut.

Kael thought it seemed a bit pointless to drag a wagon-full of straw out of one barn, only to haul it across the whole region to have it stuffed inside another. “Why don’t the Pens grow their own hay?” he grumbled, as he tried to coax a particularly stubborn piece of straw out from between his shoulder blades.

Brend sighed up at the clouds. “Spare me from the clod-headedness of manfolk. They don’t grow hay in the Pens, because the Pens are for growing
animals
,” he said, with over-exaggerated patience. “It’s no small wonder you mountain rats have to scavenge for your food — you couldn’t grow a weed in a pot!”

Kael glared at him. “You don’t know anything about life in the mountains. You giants keep your food stored under the earth and tucked behind fences. You have no idea what it’s like to track down a meal with tusks and teeth — to wake up every day knowing you might very well be eaten by your dinner. We don’t
scavenge
for our food. We hunt for it. And I’ve killed bears bigger than you,” he added, with what he hoped was a scathing look.

The giants glanced at each other — then they burst out laughing.

“Where’s
that
wee fiery spark been hiding?” Brend said. “Had I known you were such a funny little fellow, I might’ve — oops.”

His playful shove sent Kael rolling end over end, and Declan had to pluck him off the ground. “Steady, wee rat.”

Kael jerked himself out of his hold and spun. He was entirely fed up with the giants: he was sick of being thrown about, laughed at, and called a
rat
. And he was about to tell them as much.

But when he turned, the look on Declan’s face made him forget his words. He couldn’t believe it: Declan was actually smiling. No, not just smiling — he wore a grin so ridiculously wide that it would’ve looked like a fool on anybody else. But on Declan … well, it made him look like a completely different person. A much happier person.

No sooner did his grin appear than it vanished. Declan tossed his pitchfork into the wagon and walked off in the opposite direction, his fists planted firmly inside his pockets.

“I thought you rats were naught but slouch-shouldered clodders,” Brend said, tossing his fork in next to Declan’s. “But I have to say — I hate you less.”

Kael frowned at him. “Less?”

“Oh, sure … a
tiny
bit less,” he said with a wink. “Now, you hang by the cart — and don’t spook Churl. If you don’t bother him, he’ll just sit there and stare at the chickens. It’ll give us a few minutes to ourselves.” Brend slid around the front of the wagon, glancing up at the driver’s seat as he went.

Churl didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he sat limply on his perch, staring open-mouthed at the feathery inhabitants of the chicken coup.

They clucked and skipped about on spindly legs, deftly avoiding the men who tried to scoop them up. Kael noticed that they were men from the seas. And after having been trapped among giants for so long, he thought they looked ridiculously small.

He wondered if any of the seas men knew Lysander. At any rate, they might be nicer to him than the giants had been. He was about to walk over and talk to them when a familiar-looking shadow crossed his path.

He’d begged Eveningwing to leave him, to go out into the world and enjoy his freedom. But so far he’d insisted on staying put. He’d spent the night roosting in the rafters over Kael’s head, and had left early that morning to go on a hunt. Now it looked as if he might be eyeing the chickens.

Roland had said once that hawks had remarkably sharp vision: “If you can see them, they’re close enough to count your teeth.”

So Kael looked up at Eveningwing and gave him a very pointed glare, shaking his head firmly. The hawk’s gray wings tilted downward in disappointment before he glided back towards the Fields — as if he preferred not to be tempted.

Kael walked for a ways, just to make sure that Eveningwing wasn’t going to try to circle back around. When he finally took his gaze from the skies, he spotted Declan.

He stood near a pen that was quite a bit larger than the rest, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed over the rails. He watched the creatures roaming on the other side of it with a look of longing on his face.

When Kael approached, he’d expected to see cows or sheep — something edible, at the very least. He was surprised when a group of young horses galloped by. They tossed their manes and snorted in delight, running in a line around the pen. Their legs thundered across the flat ground in a chorus of hooves.

The only horses Kael had ever seen had been either saddled, or tied to the fronts of carts. It was amazing to watch the horses move in a herd, free to gallop with no one to rein them in; free to buck and toss their necks without fear of throwing their masters. He’d never thought of them as wild creatures. But now it was hard to see them as anything else.

“Do you want to pet one?” Declan asked, when he saw Kael staring. Before he could reply, Declan stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

A mare’s head shot up immediately, her ears twitched for Declan. She shouldered her way through the crowd of her grazing fellows and trotted straight to the fence.

“This is Crispina,” he said, reaching out to stroke her graceful neck. “Isn’t she beautiful? She’s got royal blood, you know. Her father was King Banagher’s war-horse.”

Kael didn’t doubt it. With the height of her legs and her glossy black coat, Crispina looked every inch the royal horse. At Declan’s urging, he reached out to touch her neck. He was surprised when her nose nuzzled the top of his head.

“She likes you,” Declan said approvingly. “A horse can read a man’s spirit better than any Seer. So if Crispina likes you, then I know you’re decent.”

Kael ran his hand along the white stripe between Crispina’s eyes, and she snorted contentedly. “I didn’t know the giants raised horses.”

Declan’s thick shoulders rose and fell. “Yeh, we’ve raised some of the best bloodlines in the realm. They’re more like dogs to us, though — our arses are far too large to ride them.”

“
You
can’t even ride?”

He shook his head. “I may not be as tall as the others, but my bones are still made of stone. I’d squish their little hides flat, if I tried. And you wouldn’t like that too much, would you?” he added to Crispina — who swished her tail in reply.

They stood in silence for a moment, petting Crispina while she nibbled playfully at their fingers. The young horses scampered around the pen behind her, chasing each other’s tails. As Kael followed their merry game across the pasture, he spotted something odd.

An enormous stone stood out in the middle of the grass. It was easily the height of three men, and he bet it would’ve taken a ring of six giants to wrap their arms around it. The stone itself was pale red in color, with tiny flecks of black chipped into it. As the sun crossed overhead, the black flecks glittered under its light.

When he pointed it out to Declan, he sighed. “Yeh, that’s the Scepter Stone.”

“Is it magic?”

“No, there’s no magic in the plains. Unless you count the skill of a giantess in her kitchens, that is,” he amended with a small smile — a smile that quickly faded. “Come on, I’ll take you to get a closer look.”

They hopped the fence and walked out to the Stone. Declan said they couldn’t stay for long: if one of the Pens’ mages caught them among the horses, they’d probably earn themselves a flogging.

While Declan watched for the mages, Kael pressed his hands against the Scepter Stone. Its surface was smooth, as if the waters of some great river had shaped it. Warmth seemed to radiate from its middle. The little black flecks were a warmer than the rest. Though he felt as high up as he could reach, Kael didn’t find a single crack.

“What was it used for?” he said as they hiked back to the fence.

Declan hoisted himself over the railings, while Kael slid in between them. “It didn’t really have a use, not in the way you’d think. The Scepter Stone was more a symbol than anything.”

“A symbol of what?”

Declan grunted and rolled his shoulders back, as if he wasn’t all that comfortable talking. But Kael wanted to learn. So he waited patiently for a few moments, letting his question hang in the air. At last, Declan gave in:

“No doubt you’ve heard tales of the giants, and of our warring ways. The Kingdom is full of the stories. They like to paint us as bloodthirsty, club-wielding savages. Or stupid oafs.” He glared out the side of his eye at Kael, as if he were expecting him to chime in with other offensive names.

But he only shrugged. “I actually don’t know much about the giants. I’ve spent most of my life trapped on a mountain.”

“Huh.” Declan’s face betrayed nothing as he went on. “Well, we
did
go to war more often than the other regions. The family clans used to get into all sorts of scuffles. They’d start out as small things, just an argument between two neighbors. But it wouldn’t be long before we’d have ourselves a mightily thick battle.”

“Why’s that?” Kael wondered. “Why didn’t the clans just settle things amongst themselves and be done with it?”

“We’re not some region full of strangers — we’re family. Every clan is tied together by some manner of blood,” Declan said, picking at the rough top of the fence post. “If you got into a fight with a neighboring clan, there was a fair chance that you’d have a cousin or a grandpa fighting on the other side.” He ducked his head a bit, and Kael saw that he was trying to hide a smile.

“That’s why things would get so far out of hand. You’d ask to marry my sister, so I’d knock out a few of your teeth. Then your cousin would let his goats into my brother’s crops. Next thing you know, somebody’s plow blade would wind up at the bottom of the pond — it just wouldn’t take long for things to go to clods.” His head shot up, and he fixed Kael with a serious look. “But just because we fought all the time doesn’t mean that there weren’t any rules.”