Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (17 page)

He waved his hand at the horse pen. “Anyone who stood in the shadow of the Scepter Stone couldn’t be harmed. That’s where the women and children would gather to wait out the fights. I traveled there with my mother once, as a wee thing.” His eyes seemed to dull at the memory. “We waited there for many long days, picnicking and roaming through the Prince’s lands. He let the clans fight for a while, but when it came time for the harvest and our fathers
still
hadn’t returned, the Prince set out to bring them home. He rode from the castle gates with his mighty army at his back … and he dragged my father and all my kinsmen home by their ears.”

A floodgate must’ve opened over Declan’s mouth: Kael had never heard him string so many sentences together, and he realized that he might never hear it again. So even though the questions pressed against his lips, he tried to sit quietly — just to see if Declan would say anything else.

“They tried to break it, you know,” he murmured after a moment. Declan’s eyes traveled to the Scepter Stone, and a hard smirk bent his lips. “When Titus captured the plains, he ordered the mages to cast a spell to crack it. They covered it in fire and ice, they tried to blast it down the middle — they even summoned great, snaking cords and tried to topple it over on its side. But the Stone stood firm.” His lips tightened. “And we giants took it as a sign.”

He said no more. And Kael couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, so he kept his mouth shut. They stood in companionable silence for several moments before Brend found them.

“Oh no,” he said, grinning, when he caught sight of them. “Declan hasn’t been off on his tales about horses, has he? Talking about their shiny flanks and what-have-you? If he starts to bore you, wee rat, you can always just wander off — I know for a fact that he’ll keep on talking to the wind.”

Declan smiled and shook his head, but said nothing to defend himself. Brend went on:

“He can’t help it, though. That’s what happens when a fellow is born into clan Horseman. They’ll chatter on about their prancing little pets till the earth goes blue. Whole armies have turned and fled, rather than be trapped in one of their tales — I swear it by the plains mother.”

Kael turned to Declan and said: “Declan Horseman, is it?”

He nodded. “That it is, Kael of the Unforgivable Mountains.”

 

*******

 

With Churl content to watch the chickens, they were able to waste the whole day just walking around the Pens and looking at the animals. Brend knew many of the giants by name, and spent several minutes talking with each of them, asking about how they were getting on.

When the sun started to dip low, they hopped back into the wagon. As Churl hurtled them down the bumpy road, Kael began to think.

Declan’s story burned in the front of his mind. He was determined now more than ever to find someway to free the plains. But he knew whatever plan he came up with wouldn’t work — not unless he had the giants on his side. And it was obvious that they didn’t trust him.

How could he possibly convince them to listen?

He was shocked when he suddenly found himself wishing for Lysander. Annoying though he was, the pirate captain would’ve known
exactly
what to do with the giants. He’d blind them with flashes of his white teeth and have them spun around so quickly that they’d lose track of their backsides. The giants would’ve followed him without even realizing it — and Lysander would’ve been long gone before they figured out that he’d swindled them senseless.

For some reason, this thought put a smile on Kael’s face.

At dinner, he hardly ate. The thought of Lysander’s particular brand of trickery was a loose thread — a path that led him straight to a tangled mass of ideas. There might be a plan in there somewhere, but it was too jumbled to tell. After a while, Kael was entirely fed up with thinking: he knew he had to stop agonizing over
every
thing and put just
one
of those things into motion. He had to give that thread a tug, and see what other sorts of ideas might pop free.

So as they sat at dinner, he did just that.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about your Prince,” Kael said to Brend. He said it quietly enough that the other giants couldn’t hear him. Though the noise at dinner was so loud that he probably didn’t even have to lower his voice. “I think I might be able to help him with his plan.”

Brend’s head shot up from the trough. “What you have in mind?” he said, around a rather large mouthful of porridge.

Kael told him about Jonathan, and how they’d been captured together — though he conveniently left out the bit about the caravan of pirates. “So if I can find a way to reach my friend —”

Brend snorted loudly, spraying bits of porridge back into the trough. “How do you plan to do that, eh? Tie your message to a string and throw it through the castle windows?”

Kael gave him what he hoped was a disarming smile. “I
could
do that … or, I could use the shapechanger.”

It took a moment, but Brend finally seemed to catch on. He ducked his head down even with Kael’s, and the mocking glint left his eyes. “You’re going to have the wee hawk carry a message to the fiddler?”

Kael nodded.

“And what do you plan to tell him? You’d better not be plotting an escape.”

“I’d have to be pretty stupid to try that — especially since you’ve promised to make a quick end of me.” Kael’s heart pounded in his throat, but he forced himself to smile when Brend nodded. He chose his next words carefully: “It seems to me that whatever the Prince has planned won’t work, unless you find someway to free your women. You don’t even know where they’re being held. So if Jonathan could poke around a bit, perhaps even draw us a few maps … do you think that might be helpful?”

Brend thought for a moment. He pawed at his chin, gazing out at the giants around him. He seemed to be torn, and Kael feared that he would refuse.

“If he could find out where Gilderick is keeping our women,” Brend said slowly, “that would be a great help to us. We can’t set a foot out of here until we rescue our sisters.”

Kael knew that if anybody could find a roomful of women, it would be Jonathan. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. He’s very … um, observant,” Kael said lamely. Then he got to his feet. “I’ll send Eveningwing straight away, then.”

Brend nodded distractedly, his eyes still roving around the giants. “All right, and I’ll let the others know what you’re up to.”

Kael had made to walk away when Brend’s hand clamped down around his wrist. He wore a scowl so severe that Thelred might’ve been proud of it.

“I’ll be watching you closely, rat. If you try to cut our legs out from under us, then may the plains mother have mercy on your wee little head,” Brend growled, “because I sure won’t.”

When Kael nodded, he let go — though he swore he could feel Brend’s eyes scorching the back of his neck as he ducked into the stall.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he didn’t see another way around it. The giants might rot in their barns if they waited around for this mysterious Prince to rescue them. So Kael planned to take matters into his own hands.

He found Eveningwing roosting contentedly in the rafters over his bed. When Kael gave him his task, he bobbed his feathery head. Then he swooped out into the night, silent as a shadow.

Kael lay down on his little patch of dirt and listened as Brend told the giants what he planned to do. There were several who were heartily against it, and they spoke loudly. But in the end, Brend seemed to convince them that they had no other choice — and promised that they could break Kael’s legs if he betrayed them.

And while he wasn’t keen on
that
part of the agreement, Kael felt a slightly relieved when he knew that he would be allowed to carry on. He just hoped that Jonathan could stop being ridiculous long enough to find the women.

When the torches dimmed, the giants rushed back into the stall. Declan was the last to arrive. He stood in the doorway for a moment, silent and still. Whatever trust Kael gained that afternoon had obviously vanished: he swore he could actually
feel
Declan’s gaze pressing on him, trying to crush him.

So he turned over quickly and pretended to be asleep.

It was near the middle of the night when Eveningwing returned. Kael felt something soft hit his shoulder, and when he looked up, the halfhawk blinked back at him from the hole in the roof. He ruffled his feathers in greeting before he disappeared again, soaring out into the darkness.

Kael felt around for the object that had struck his shoulder and came up with a leaf of parchment. It was rolled tightly around a lump of charcoal, held together by a small piece of twine. He rolled the parchment open and nearly grinned when he saw the wild, looping letters that covered the page:

 

Oi, Kael — so nice to hear from you, mate! I have to admit that I was beginning to worry about you a little. I stick my head out the window at least three times a day, trying to see if I can catch a glimpse of you. My eyes are sore from all the straining.

But just when I thought I might never see you again, I pop my head out and what do I get? A mouthful of feathers! Can’t complain, though. I knew you’d find some way to reach me — never doubted you for a moment! Though a bloke in a nightdress is not at all what I was expecting.

I sent our new friend — Even-wings, was it? — off to the seas. He’ll tell the pirates to go on without us. I expect they’ll just pillage around a bit until we manage to spring out of here. And we
will
spring out, mate. Ole Gildepants doesn’t stand a chance against us — we’re the cleverest pair of villains this side of the seas!

Things are all well with me. Dred marched me up to meet His Lordship almost the moment we got inside the castle. “Whatever you do — don’t look him in the eyes,” Dred said to me. And I tell you, mate: when a bloke the size of a witch’s shanty looks worried about something, you take heed.

Anyways, I stepped into the throne room, bowed and scraped my nose to the cobblestone like any bard before a Lord — though to be safe, I kept my eyes on his boots — and he ordered that I play something straight away. So I strung up the ole fiddle and played the most boring thing I could think of. You know, with flourishes and tremors and notes in all the right places. Awful stuff.

His Lordship must’ve enjoyed it, though — because no sooner was I finished than he said: “Kill the other one. I like this one better.”

Don’t get me wrong — I’m thrilled I got the job … but I feel a little sorry for the other bloke.

Turns out that being a resident bard isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. It
is
a touch boring, though. Gilderick doesn’t seem to care what I do, just so long as I show up to play at dinner. I play for the guards every now and then, but mostly I just wander around the castle, looking for something exciting to get into. Gilderick’s not much one for decoration and most of the doors are locked, but I
did
stumble upon a very promising mystery yesterday.

I got a bit lost and wound up going through this long, poky old hallway. There was a door at the end of it — but of course, it was locked. I was just about to go back the way I’d come when I heard it: lady voices! Whole scores of them! I could hear them chattering and giggling on the other side of the door.

As you well know, I’ve always been rather good with the ladies. So I knocked and asked if they’d kindly let me in. When the door swung open, an old witch popped out. And I mean
witch
literally, mate. She swung her ladle at me, screaming that men weren’t allowed inside, and I swear I felt a zap on my rump. I charged out of there so fast that I nearly left my boots behind!

Odd that you mentioned the lady giants — do you think that might be where Gilderick’s keeping them? I swear I’ve walked the castle five times over, and that’s the only place I’ve ever heard any ladies.

Well, it may be dangerous, and I might wind up with scorch marks on my rump, but I promise I’ll do my best to get inside — ah, for the good of the plan, of course. I’ll just have to charm my way past the old witch.

I’ve never tried my hand at map-drawing, but I suppose now’s as good a time to try as any! In the meanwhile, take care of yourself, mate. I know just about every other word out of my mouth is a joke, but I get the feeling that there are some seriously spooky things going on inside the castle. I can’t quite put a finger on what it is … but I haven’t slept a solid night since I’ve been here.

Chin up — and keep those wheels turning!

 

-Jonathan

Kael flipped the parchment over and took up the charcoal. He was so excited that he could hardly keep his hand from shaking as he wrote.

A locked door at the end of a long hallway — all he could think about was the smoking tower outside of Gilderick’s castle. If the women were locked up inside that tower, things would be much simpler than Kael could’ve ever hoped for: they wouldn’t have to storm the whole fortress, they’d only have to figure out a way inside that tower.

And with enough time to think, Kael knew he could crack it.

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