David Tallerman - Crown Thief

Caught in the rush of the chase, I'd let paranoia get the better of me. Mounteban had once told me, in what seemed a distant other lifetime, that I was only one detail of a bigger picture. That was even truer now than it had been then, and I doubted very much that he'd want his best killer running round needlessly in such a time of crisis.

That said, it was still comforting to walk beside Saltlick, with all the safety his presence implied. Overwhelming pacifism aside, I couldn't have asked for a better bodyguard. By the time I arrived at the small apothecary I'd settled on, I felt considerably less vulnerable than when I'd set out.

The wizened hag who ran the place was just opening up. She greeted my arrival with an unintelligible mumble and a noisy expectoration into the mud. Whether or not that peculiar greeting related to having a giant appear at her doorstep, she didn't seem put off by Saltlick's presence. I hurriedly bought fresh bandages, a pot of pasty green ointment, and a vial of brown ichor that she claimed — as far as I could translate her grunts and mumbles — would alleviate even the worst extremes of pain. On second thoughts, I bought a second vial for myself. Why should Alvantes be the only one free of suffering?

My purchases deposited in my new pack, we set out towards the north road junction. Saltlick and I arrived just as Alvantes and Estrada trotted up from another side road, Estrada leading the horse I'd borrowed when we left the barracks. We greeted each other with silent nods. Even Saltlick sensed the general mood and kept himself to a timid smile.

I handed my purchases to Alvantes and clambered into the saddle. In single file, we made our way out past the scattered border of the Suburbs. As we passed the last tumbledown shack, I couldn't help noticing how Alvantes glanced back towards the distant walls. His expression was grim beyond measure.

Who could blame him? Altapasaeda, Lady of the South, was fallen — and whatever her fate over the next few days, it lay in Mounteban's hands, not his.

Our first stop would be Muena Palaiya, Estrada's erstwhile home and seat of mayoral power. In theory, it was three days' easy ride away. In practise, things were likely to prove a little more complicated.

The Sabre and the highway beyond it offered by far the fastest passage northward. Of the many advantages Mounteban possessed in holding Altapasaeda, that might prove most telling in the long term. With the bridge unavailable and the docks closed to traffic, the rest of southern Castoval would soon grind to a halt. Already the river was almost empty of boats, just as the road was clear of wagons.

Our only alternative was to head north-west on this bank and ford the Casto Mara where we could, then travel on through the forest of Paen Acha. Even that would have been simple enough until recently, but the ferry at Casta Canto had fallen victim to our dramatic flight south, and I couldn't imagine they'd returned it to working order in a mere few days.

I had a feeling no one had pointed this out to Alvantes. I was looking forward to the look on his face when he found out. Even if anything that thwarted his plans thwarted mine as well, it would still be entertaining.

However, I soon discovered he had more pressing issues on his mind than our travel plans. We were barely an hour out of Altapasaeda when Alvantes drew his horse alongside mine. "You remember the giant stronghold?" he asked.

I tried to hide my surprise at so unexpected a question. "I'm not sure I'd call it a stronghold."

"I was barely conscious. You saw far more of it than I did."

"It's a nice place. Are you considering a holiday?"

He ignored me. "You met other giants there."

"Plenty of them."

Alvantes nodded towards Saltlick, who was lumbering a few paces ahead, his relaxed gait more than sufficient to keep pace with our horses. "Tell me. Are they all like him?"

"Not all. Most of the ones I met were female."

Alvantes frowned. "I mean, are they all so… passive? So submissive?"

"I didn't have to break up any fights while I was there, if that's what you mean. What are you driving at?" But I didn't really need to ask. Alvantes had been thinking about the giants waiting ahead. He'd been tormenting himself over his mistress Altapasaeda, currently trolloping herself with another man. Then he'd brought those thoughts together and realised he had the start of an idea.

It wasn't an idea I much liked. The giants had already been abducted once, already forced into violence by Moaradrid. You didn't need to be an expert in giantish culture to realise it ran against everything in their nature. "Yes," I said, "they were all like Saltlick. More so, if anything. The place was a haven of tranquillity. You'd have hated it."

Alvantes eyed me coldly, as though trying to weigh the truth of what I'd said. "Maybe they've just never found the right cause," he observed finally.

Before I could point out that liberating a bunch of spoilt Altapasaedans was probably the least right cause imaginable for giantkind, he spurred his horse forward in a clatter of hooves.

I glared after him, my already doubtful mood entirely soured by the exchange. Casting about for something that might cheer me up, I remembered the pain medicine I'd bought in the Suburbs. I drew it from my pocket, made a brief attempt to read the spidery writing on the label, then gave up and downed the lot in one sharp gulp.

Its taste brought back vivid memories of my time in the sewers. However, if its flavour was beyond repellent, its effects soon began to make up for it. It slowly dawned on me that the countless agonies that filled me from head to toe were being replaced by a mild but pleasant tingling. Everything around me had acquired a golden tinge, which shimmered whenever I moved my eyes. It was interesting enough that I began to rock my head from side to side, curious as to what speeds and angles would produce the most vivid results.

"You should take your medicine," I called to Alvantes. "It's good stuff."

He didn't even bother to look back. "Some of us need to be alert."

"There's nothing to be alert to. If you can't be alert to something, you might as well enjoy not being alert to nothing." This made perfect sense in my head. Another side effect of the pain medicine was an instinctive feeling that, whatever the evidence to the contrary, all was basically right in the world.

As for Alvantes, he merely shook his head and went on riding.

Though I suspected I might be missing the intricacies of the question, my basic point was sound. The region north of Altapasaeda was scenic, dull, and utterly devoid of danger. At first, we'd passed by the great farm estates that serviced and mostly belonged to the Altapasaedan wealthy. Amidst the scattered workshops of stonemasons and carpenters were aviaries and apiaries, orchards and great, vivid plantations of flowers, all laid out in intricate tapestries that spread between the mountains on one side and the river on the other.

As the morning wore on, the farmlands grew more prosaic. Here was the belt of land where everyday produce was grown, both for Altapasaeda and for much of the land further north. Presently we passed between expanses of sunflowers on the one hand and rye grass on the other. According to my current perceptions, every flower and head wore an aureole of gold that shimmered whenever it shifted in the breeze.

The effect was beginning to grow a little nauseating. By the time we stopped for a brief roadside lunch, I was starting to wonder if the pain had really been so bad after all. When I turned down the share of bread and salt fish Estrada proffered, she looked at me with grave concern.

"Easie… you never say no to food."

"Not feeling so good," I mumbled. "Not sure 'bout that medicine."