Vaughn Heppner - Giants

The lake spread out before them, and soon a smell of dampness filled the air. Between groves of birch and tall pine trees Joash saw the other shore and long-horned bison wading into the water. The lake might be dangerous, he realized. Predators would be here, and game and fish.

Joash ran to help scout the lake. Herrek pointed at a sandy spot. Joash ran ahead with Koton. He kept his spear ready and his eyes open. The sand was hot. Koton whined and rushed into the water, cooling his paws. Joash waded ankle deep in the water. He saw a fish jump, a trout. He cupped lake-water. It tasted sweet and felt cool, refreshing. He drank more and listened to Koton lap water. At a word from Herrek he ran back to the chariot and unhitched the stallions. Joash led them to the lake and they drank. He kept a lookout for any strange water ripples.

About five hundred yards to the right was a swampy area of bulrushes and honking geese. To his left there stood a tall embankment. Birds nested on the steep shore, while muskrat-holes were lower down. About three hundred yards over, orns drank water. They were twelve-feet-tall flightless birds with wickedly curved beaks and strong talons. Few predators could match the deadliness of orns. Luckily, those looked full.

Once the stallions had drunk their fill Gens and Joash brought them to the chariots, which were parked under birch trees. The stallions were hobbled and began to graze. Adah, who had gathered driftwood and fallen branches, dropped them into a ring of stones she’d pushed together. Then she picked up her bow, whistled for Koton, and set out toward the bulrushes.

Joash decided to use the opportunity for what he’d been thinking about for hours. Gens stayed near the horses he saw, working on a frayed bit of harness. Herrek crouched near the lake. He wore his white tunic, and sharpened his spear and sword. His face was stern, his motions jerky. The sound of whetstone on steel seemed loud. Elidad, after washing his face and arms, went to stand by the stones He took something off his belt, and studied it. Then he put the thing away and worked on starting a fire.

Joash stripped off his leathers and soaked them in the water. He scrubbed them with sand and a bar of lye soap from his kit, finally pounding them on a hot rock. He laid his leathers and sandals on the grass to dry. He then pushed his spear into the sand and waded into the water. The water was cool and refreshed his sweaty skin. He kept his eyes open for any water ripples. When he was waist deep, he held his breath and plunged underwater. He leaped into the air and splashed back down like a fish. He swam out, and flipped onto his back, forgetting his worries and about any dangerous water creatures. Then he chanced to look at Herrek. Herrek watched him. Joash backstroked toward shore. Maybe it was wrong to feel so good so soon after burying Brand, but the water felt so grand.

Herrek whistled.

Joash stood up, his toes delighting in the watery sand.

A water ripple V-ed toward him. He splashed out of the lake and snatched his spear. A huge fish, more than eight feet long, darted toward shore. It looked like a freshwater shark.

Joash’s blood went cold.

The freshwater shark, a deep-sea blue in color and with seven gills, turned and swam back toward the middle of the lake.

His clothes were still damp, but Joash put them on. He inspected and repaired his kit. By the time he was done Adah returned. She used her cloak to hold a dozen wild goose eggs. Joash’s stomach rumbled. He’d had no idea the Singer was such a good forager. In no time he’d cooked the eggs, and each of them ate in silence under the shade of the birch trees. When they were done, Herrek belched and cleared his throat.

“I think it’s time we talked,” he said.

Adah nodded, closely watching Elidad.

Elidad held a leopard-skin pouch in his hands. His big fingers worked things in the pouch.

Joash had never seen the pouch before. He looked closely. It seemed supple, and a string of sinew closed the end. He was surprised to see a parchment of some kind tucked in Elidad’s broad leather belt. It wasn’t that Elidad couldn’t read, it was simply that he seldom did. Few warriors bothered with such an art. He knew Lord Uriah could read, but that was to be expected from Elon’s Patriarch.

“It is time to talk,” Herrek repeated. He sat on a rock, his spear and shield beside him. The stallions were close. Koton slept beside them.

“Yes,” Elidad said, still fondling the leopard-skin pouch as he looked down. “We must talk.”

“You must tell us why you came out here,” Herrek said.

Elidad’s fingers stopped moving. His shoulders grew tense. Then his fingers moved again, causing the things in the leopard-skin pouch to slide from side to side. His shoulders relaxed.

Adah, like Joash, studied the pouch. Her eyes narrowed.

Elidad took a deep breath. “I’m uncertain where to begin.” His fingers moved faster, as if whatever he slid from side to side in the pouch gave him strength, or gave him comfort or guidance. The things made clacking noises, like stones.

Adah stared suspiciously at the pouch, as she pulled her cloak around her knees and gnawed on one of the sea-flower designs.

A feeling of wrongness seeped into Joash. He didn’t understand the feeling, but he saw goose bumps rise on his arms and felt the hair on his neck stand up. He sat cross-legged, his spear beside him. He reached out and touched the wooden shaft, hoping to calm his strange fear. The wrongness gnawed at him. He wanted to rip the leopard-skin pouch out of Elidad’s hands and hurl it into the lake. Let the shark eat it.

“It began several days ago.” Elidad stared at the fire. “Brand and I chanced upon it.”

“Upon what?” Herrek asked.

Elidad’s fingers moved faster still. It was eerie. The clacking noises increased. There was a wicked rhythm to it.

Joash glanced at Adah, wondering why she didn’t say something. She sucked on a flower design. It seemed she wanted to talk, but something held her back. She stared at Elidad’s fingers, at the supple leopard-skin pouch. Joash glanced carefully at Gens. He too stared at Elidad’s pouch. Now Joash was worried. He glanced at Herrek. The tall warrior also watched Elidad’s fingers. Herrek seemed entranced, expectant.

“The skeleton looked to be very old,” Elidad said, his voice devoid of inflection. The tiniest curving slid onto the corners of his lips. Then the secret smile vanished. “The skeleton was huge, it was a giant. The bones were ancient and had sunken into the ground. Green lichen had grown on the femurs. The giant had once held something in his right hand, his weapon hand, I think. But the weapon had long ago disappeared. The other arm-bones were bent down and under the rib cage. The hand held at the waist seemed to clutch something. In the skeleton’s fingers I found this!”

Elidad looked up, with a strange gleam in his eyes. He held the leopard-skin pouch before them. His sunburn had almost vanished, and in its place his skin looked pale and feverish.

“What’s in the pouch?” Herrek slowly asked.

“Ah,” said Elidad. “Do you wish to see?”

“Yes,” Gens hissed.

“Truly?” Elidad asked. He glanced at the Singer.

She still had the flower design in her mouth. She croaked, “No, don’t open it.”

“Are you not curious?” Elidad asked, his fingers making the things clack together.

To Joash the things looked to be about as big as robin’s eggs.

“Throw it away,” she whispered. “It’s evil.” But she made no move to rise.

“Joash?” Elidad asked.

Joash nodded slowly, but said nothing. In his mind he nodded in agreement with Adah. It seemed important to not agree with Elidad. The broad-shouldered warrior should throw away the pouch. If the giant’s skeleton was so old that lichen grew upon it, why was the leopard-skin pouch so supple? That didn’t make sense.