Vaughn Heppner - Giants

Joash’s chest felt as if it were hollowing out. His eyes grew watery. “Ard,” he whispered.

Herrek averted his face from the stiff corpse.

Joash jumped off the chariot and staggered toward his dead friend. His own body was numb. He wiped his eyes, and knelt beside Ard. Slowly he reached out and touched the corpse. It was stiff, immobile, and rigid. He put his hand on Ard’s cold neck.

Joash jerked his hand away.

Herrek squeezed Joash’s shoulder. “The attack must have come quickly. Ard probably felt no pain.”

Joash bowed his head. Ard was dead, lying forever in Giant Land. He hated the Kragehul Steppes, the ancient name for these plains. Why had Lord Uriah come here? Joash finally noticed Adah. She studied the ground.

“Notice these sabertooth tracks,” she said to Herrek.

Herrek held his spear, his big knuckles white. “I’ve already seen them,” he said.

“What is it?” Joash wheezed. He felt drained, although his anger was strong. He wanted to know what had happened. He wanted to slay his friend’s killer.

Adah glanced at Herrek.

Herrek nodded.

“These tracks,” Adah said softly. She faltered and turned away.

Joash looked in bewilderment at Herrek.

Herrek pointed at the ground. “Ard was thrown off his feet there.” Herrek pointed at the corpse. “There, he landed.”

Joash frowned, too drained to understand.

Herrek knelt by the tracks. He was a keen hunter, one of the best at reading spoor. He pointed at the various indentations. “A sabertooth with a crippled left paw leaped at Ard, and knocked him against that rock.”

Understanding filtered into Joash’s numbed mind. Old Three-Paws had slain his friend.

Adah knelt by the corpse. Her knowing eyes examined it. For a time she stared intently at the crushed head. Then she did a strange thing. She plucked a strong stock of grass and probed inside the wound. The blood drained from her face. She leaped up, making a strangled sound, and dropped the blade of grass as if it was a fiery brand. Her hands trembled, and she stumbled, almost drunkenly, away from the corpse.

“What is it?” Herrek asked. “What did you find?”

Joash forced himself to see what Adah had. He couldn’t understand what—a shudder passed through him. The head. He, too, made a strangled sound and leaped back.

Herrek stared at him.

“The head,” Joash whispered, with horror in his voice.

Herrek peered at the skull. His eyes widened. He bent closer. Rage filled his face.

“What do you see?” asked Gens, who stood in the chariot.

“The brain…” Herrek took a deep breath. “Something scooped out Ard’s brain and feasted.”

“How could the sabertooth do such a thing?” whispered Gens.

“No sabertooth did that,” Herrek said grimly. “Something used an instrument to scoop out the brain. It was a deliberate act, an intelligent act, and an insulting act that I shall avenge.”

“But…” Gens said. “From the signs, Old Three-Paws slew Ard.”

Herrek grew quiet, his lips pressed together.

Joash wiped his eyes.

“Singer,” Herrek said harshly. “Elidad and Brand are still lost. We must harden our resolve and do what we can. We—”

Adah’s head snapped up. A fierce light was in her eyes. “Oh yes,” she said, her voice odd, “we must indeed harden our resolve. Either that, or flee for our lives. But we won’t flee, because Elidad and Brand are in danger. And you’ve seen to it that only we are here to help them.”

Herrek met her strange gaze.

“Is your courage great enough that you dare to hear what I have to say?” she asked.

“Let me know the worst,” Herrek said.

Adah shook her head. “Let us bury Ard first so his bones won’t lie awake on these terrible plains.”

Joash went to his chariot and took the entrenching tool. As he dug Gens and Herrek gathered what stones they could find. Then Herrek and Joash picked up Ard’s corpse and reverently placed it in the grave. As the highest-ranked noble of Elon, Herrek spoke about Ard’s good nature, about his doggedness in training. He spoke about the love and mercy of Elohim, and he asked Elohim to take Ard into the Celestial Realm. Then Herrek departed from custom, and asked Joash to give his friend the parting words.

Joash looked down at the grave, but he didn’t look at the corpse. A hot wind caused the grass around the grave to bend, as if in prayer. Off in the distance, an orn screeched.

“I will not forget you,” Joash whispered. “And I will not forget this horrible deed done to you.”

Adah’s eyes showed her worry. She motioned to Herrek.

Herrek didn’t budge, with his auroch-hide shield at his side, and his spear planted like a towering redwood. He honored Ard, and something else was on his face: fierce resolve.

Joash breathed deeply. He picked up a clod of dirt. “Keep a place by the heavenly fire for me, old friend.” As tears ran down his face, Joash tossed the dirt-clod into the hole.

Soon Herrek and Gens clattered stones atop the soft dirt, lest carrion animals dig up Ard’s corpse. When all was finished, Joash took Ard’s skinning knife, whispered a secret oath, and spat on the blade. He drove Ard’s knife all the way down to the hilt into the ground.

Done with the burial, Joash joined Herrek and Gens as they sat on rocks and watched Adah. She gloomily plucked lyre strings. They knew now was the time for her to tell them of her fears.

Joash, knowing this was important in order to avenge Ard’s death, paid close attention to the singer. There would be magic in her voice and in her lyre. But it was welcome magic, not the dark and supernatural kind First Born and Nephilim wielded. A singer’s magic was a part of the world. It gave lessons, it entertained, it brought joy, it brought sorrow, but most of all, it took people away to different lands and places. Such a thing should not be rushed, not even beside a grave.

Adah gloomily plucked strings and started to speak. It wasn’t a chant or a part of her song. Instead, she talked to them.

“It is wise to understand that much is concealed about the bene elohim , and even more is hidden about their First Born. For the bene elohim were exceedingly secretive, and their First Born even more so. But fragments of tales have survived. Oftentimes, when the Shining Ones from above stormed a bene elohim stronghold, they discovered annals. Or sometimes slaves who had spent an eternity in thralldom to their wicked masters told unbelievable tales. Seldom, however, did captured First Born utter any words. A few of that abominable race we know today, Yorgash of Poseidonis, Jotnar Father of Giants, and Gog the Oracle.

“These are modern terrors, banes upon the lands where they dwell. In the misty past, there were others who walked in the light of day, others who openly plagued humanity. Join me in a journey to that awful time when the bene elohim caused the earth to groan under their tyranny. Come with me, and learn about the horror known as the Beast-god, Bloodlicker, the Berserker King, of him who was named at his birth Tarag of the Sabertooths.”

Adah concentrated upon her strings. The rhythm changed. Haunting music filled the gravesite as she began to chant.

Long ago, the bene elohim entered the world. The kingdoms and clans of humanity fell before them. Then did hideous acts commence. Beautiful women were dragged into the palaces of the bene elohim . The dread rebels lay with the women, and knew them. From such unholy unions came diabolic progeny. These progeny were known by many names, but the most that fell came to be known as the First Born. To the First Born came many bizarre powers and abilities, and often their shapes and desires were anything but human. Like their fathers before them, supernatural powers belonged to the First Born, and like their fathers, they yearned for dominance of all kinds. They became terrible captains of war and wicked councilors, becoming a burden to humanity.