Vaughn Heppner - Giants

Gens smiled.

“Do you think they could have been set under the old giant’s skeleton as a lure?”

Gens gave him a glance that said he was a bit simple. “This is Giant Land. Here wonders are said to abound.”

“Then you aren’t worried that I spoke to Mimir? That we know a giant, said to be wise in their cunning wiles, was nearby when all this happened?”

Gens skipped his second stone, shrugged.

“Surely Mimir must know about this cave,” Joash said.

“Maybe.”

“Tarag must know about this cave as well.”

Gens shook his head. “You saw how we slew Old Three-Paws and chased off the other sabertooths. That was warrior’s work. If you hope to wield your spear with as much deadliness, then you must ponder chariot tactics more than the comings and goings of legendary foes.”

Now that the emeralds were tucked away in Elidad’s pouch, Joash had hoped their power would be less. He asked, “You truly aren’t worried?”

Gens snorted at the idea.

“Maybe we should go back to camp and get help?”

Gens flushed, anger filling his eyes. “Are you a fool?”

Joash didn’t reply.

“Bah.” Gens spat into the water. “You asked if I’m worried, then the answer is yes. I’m worried others will gain the treasure before we do.” He stared at Joash. “Don’t you understand what can be done with such treasure?”

Joash backed up a step, seeing a vein on Gens’s forehead throb with passion.

“Once I own such treasure I’ll be able to search the world for the greatest stallions alive. I’ll retrace the old bloodlines. I’ll find mares that are descended from the Shining Ones’ steeds of yore and breed them.” Gens’s lips drew down. “But you; you want to slink away and let others take what’s mine. You hope, in the secret place of your heart, that I never own such wonderful herds.”

“Th-that’s not true.”

“No?”

Joash shook his head.

Gens nodded. “That is good. Yes, very good.” He glanced at Galay and Geirrod. “These are good Asvarn stallions, well-trained and descended from an ancient bloodline. But these are not the steeds that will blaze the name of Gens into the ages. No…”

Gens suddenly, and very oddly it seemed to Joash, picked up another stone and skipped it. He seemed to be in a dream world, meditating perhaps on how he would breed the greatest horses in the world.

Joash followed Gens back to the chariots. Because of the heat they left off the horse-cloaks as they hitched Asher, Pondon, Galay, and Geirrod to the chariots.

Elidad paced near the burnt-out fire, his chainmail jangling in time to his steps. He knotted his left hand into a fist and ground it against the palm of his right hand. He watched Joash, almost suspiciously, it seemed. Soon Elidad inspected the hitching.

“You work slowly,” Elidad said, breathing down Joash’s shoulder.

Joash didn’t look up as he tightened a strap. The bear-like warrior frightened him. A sudden thought stilled Joash’s hands.

“What is it?” Elidad asked.

Joash straightened. Elidad’s blue eyes were bloodshot and suspicious, and his skin looked hotter than it should be. Joash’s throat constricted before his accusatory words could slip out.

Elidad advanced until their faces almost touched. Joash felt Elidad’s hot breath on his cheeks. “Make sure you work quickly, Groom .”

Fear made Joash back up against Asher’s side. The stallion turned and nudged his shoulder. Joash hardly noticed. His heart pounded and his eyes were wide. Had Elidad slain Brand?

Elidad’s hand flew to Joash’s biceps. The thick fingers tightened. Joash struggled to free himself.

“Elidad!” Herrek shouted.

Elidad turned but didn’t release his hold.

“Let go of my groom,” Herrek said, striding toward them.

With an oath, Elidad released Joash and puffed his chest. “He works slowly,” the stocky warrior said.

Herrek glanced at Joash.

Joash rubbed his biceps, wondering how close he’d come to being struck.

“Groom!”

Joash looked up.

“Were you working slowly?” Herrek asked.

“No, warrior,” Joash said, even though he had been.

“Liar!” Elidad roared. He buffeted Joash, knocking him against Asher.

Herrek wrapped his hand around his sword-hilt. “Do not strike him again.”

Elidad sneered, “Do you say I lied when I told you he worked slowly?”

“I say you are mistaken,” Herrek said. “Now, stand aside or hitch your own team.”

The sneer deepened, but Elidad stepped away.

Herrek waited until Elidad was out of earshot. Then, he turned. “Make certain you don’t dally, Groom.”

Joash nodded miserably. He thought he knew something the others didn’t. Old Three-Paws hadn’t slain Brand, but Elidad. He couldn’t prove it, but the worm of suspicion had burrowed deep. And if that was true, if Elidad had slain his own driver—

What power did the emeralds have? And who had given them the power? An evil one, that much was certain. Joash wondered why this hidden evil-one wanted them at the cave. He tightened a harness-buckle and decided that maybe Adah knew more than she’d been saying. All trip long she’d been hinting at things. Maybe now that she was under the emeralds’ power…

Whom did he fool? He was just a groom, untrained even in the use of his spear. What was he supposed to do? How could he overcome evil magic when a champion like Herrek and a singer like Adah, had fallen under its spell? And why hadn’t he fallen under the emeralds’ power? Did it have anything to do with what Mimir had told him? Mimir had said his flame was high. What did that mean?

“Please help me, Elohim,” Joash whispered under his breath. “Give me the wisdom and the strength to do what’s right.”

“Move aside,” Elidad shouted. “Quit mumbling to yourself.”

Joash skipped aside as Elidad flicked the reins. Asher and Pondon whinnied and cantered away from the lake. Joash hurried to his kit, slung it on, picked up his spear, and jogged after the chariot. As he stepped out of the shade the sun blasted him. The trip, he feared, would be a grueling one.

He tried to put aside his worries as he concentrated upon jogging. He moved one foot after the other, arms swinging in rhythm. The spear didn’t allow that, however. It was big and heavy. He held it with both hands, in front of his stomach. His shoulders swung in rhythm, but soon they were tired. He needed to make a sling. Then he could carry the spear across his back.

His water-skin sloshed at his side, and his kit banged against his thigh. The tall grass was dry, waving at his hips. In another half-month the wild grains would ripen.

Later Herrek turned north at a boulder where baboons screamed at them and threw rotten rinds. Two big males with lion-like manes leaped off the rock and followed Joash until Koton came back with raised hackles. The baboons shied away from Koton and left Joash alone. Later, off to Joash’s left, a lumbering elk with an incredible spread of antlers brayed. Two does trotted toward him.

The ground rose slowly, and the smell changed from a damp one to a dusty, grit-filled one. The boulder-strewn lichen-filled hills stood before them. It would take until dark tonight, some sleep, and into tomorrow morning before they reached the hills. They traveled parallel with the river far off in the distance, toward what looked like a gap, or perhaps a pass. The hills didn’t look inviting, but like an escarpment unnaturally raised on the barren steppes. Various herds dotted the plains, and here and there purple flowers, red ones, or even orange ones broke up the monotony of the yellow stalks waving in the wind.

A dire wolf howled as the sun began its long descent toward the horizon, but they saw no sign of the beast.