Troy Denning: The Giant Among Us

“They’re trying to find us!” she cried. “They’ve smelled us, and now they’re going to dig us up like rabbits!”

“They didn’t smell us,” Crosley said. “They can’t smell anything with a snootful of hot pepper seeds. Be quiet, and we’ll be fine.”

The children obediently fell as quiet as the dead. They listened to the wolves scramble around for a few moments longer. Finally, the beasts hurled themselves out a window, and the hut fell silent again-save for the approaching rumble of the hill giant’s club smashing into houses.

A small hand tugged at Crosley’s sleeve. “Well?” asked Birk. “Why did the ogres want a princess?”

“I suppose we must finish the story,” chuckled Crosley. “The ogres kidnapped Brianna because the Twilight Spirit wanted her.”

“Who’s the Twilight-”

“I’m coming to that,” Crosley said. “The Twilight Spirit is the guardian spirit of giants, and nobody knows what he wanted with Brianna. Some say he wanted to marry her to the chief of a giant tribe, so a giant would become king of Hartsvale. Some say he loved her himself-but those are really just guesses.”

“So, how did Tavis rescue her?” demanded Thorley.

“The ogres thought they’d be safe if they slept on a glacier,” Crosley explained. “But Tavis and his companions sneaked through an ice cave and carried the princess off. The ogres chased them into the valley of the hill giants. Tavis tricked the ogres and giants into fighting each other so he and his friends could escape.”

“Then they returned to Castle Hartwick and killed the king, and lived happily ever after!” suggested Dena.

“Not quite,” the old man replied. “They returned to Castle Hartwick-but not to live happily ever after.”

Crosley paused here. He no longer heard the hill giant smashing houses, and he regarded the silence as an ominous thing. The giant had not yet knocked his hut down, and the old man saw no good reason for the brute to leave it standing when he had demolished every other building on the lane.

“What did they do when they reached the castle?” asked Dena. “Is that when Tavis outsmarted the stone giant?”

“It is indeed,” Crosley answered, with more patience than he felt. “You see, when they returned to the castle, Brianna told everyone what her father had done. The earls were so outraged that the king realized he could no longer rule Hartsvale, and he abdicated his throne. But there were two sentries from the Giant Guard with him, the stone giant Gavorial and the frost giant Hrodmar. They insisted on fulfilling the king’s bargain and taking Brianna to the Twilight Spirit

“But when Hrodmar leaned over to grab the princess, Tavis shot an arrow into his ear and killed him. Then the scout nocked another shaft and pointed it at Brianna’s heart, and he swore he would kill his beloved before allowing her to be taken. Gavorial had no choice except to leave, for the giants had no wish to present a dead princess to the Twilight Spirit”

“And then Brianna became queen and married Tavis, and they lived happily ever after,” Dena submitted.

“Then Brianna became queen,” Crosley allowed. “But this is a true story, and no queen can marry a commoner-especially not a firbolg orphan. So Tavis has become her bodyguard, sworn to stand chastely at his beloved’s side, and in his quiver he carries a golden arrow-”

A tremendous crash shook the cellar, followed by the rumble of collapsing walls. The children shrieked. Crocks fell from the shelves, and the hut’s wooden floor crunched and cracked as it splintered beneath the weight of the hill giant’s heavy foot Crosley slapped his hands over two wailing mouths, but somewhere in the darkness a third child was sobbing and screaming for her mother. A deafening bang erupted from the trapdoor as the giant’s club smashed it apart. Pale rays of light streamed into the dusty hole.

The hill giant’s churlish face appeared above the ladder. He had wiry black hair cropped short and ragged, with a sloped forehead and vapid gray eyes.

“Hey, stupids!” The giant’s breath filled the cellar with an odor as foul as rotting swamp grass. “You pay for hurting Pammy and Cece-all of you!”

Thorley grabbed a crock of pickled mallows and hurled it at their tormenter. The vessel shattered, spilling vinegar and sour buds all over the giant’s chin. The brute wrinkled his nose, then pulled his head away and hefted his club.

“Leave us alone!” Thorley yelled. “Leave us alone, or Tavis Burdun’ll come shoot an arrow into your ear!”

“Good!” The hill giant brought his club down. “Tavis Burdun don’t scare nobody no more.”

Tavis Burdun, personal scout and bodyguard to Brianna of Hartwick, slipped his bow off his shoulder and stole into the cold mountain fog. He entered the ruined village warily, creeping over the rubble as quietly as a wolf through the night, his senses straining for any sign of a lurking marauder. He discerned nothing: not a whisper of breath, not the odor of unwashed flesh, not even the gentle rumble of a single, stealthy step. There was only the stench of decay, the corpses lying half-buried beneath piles of stone and timber, the fly swarms filling the air with their mad, mad drone.

The scout had felt it before-the cold, sick ache sinking through his belly like a spoon through honey. But there was something different about High Meadow. He sensed it in the echo of his grinding teeth, the hair prickling at the nape of his neck, and the way his heart hammered inside his chest. This time, the giants were still here.

“Tavis, what’s the delay?” Queen Brianna’s question rang out from fifty paces down the trail, where she waited outside the village with her retinue and the royal guard. “Can we make our inspection?”

Before the scout could reply, a distant voice reverberated from somewhere deep in the village. “No, Milady! There are raiders about!” The words had a smooth, euphonious quality suggestive of a human nobleman. “You’d be wise to turn back while you can!”

“Who’s that speaking? Identify yourself.” demanded Tavis. The scout yelled toward the mountainside so his words would echo over the village and make his location more difficult to pinpoint. “Are you one of Earl Cuthbert’s knights?”

“Certainly not!” came the answer.

Before the fellow could say more, a series of thunderous footfalls pealed out of the fog. The stranger screamed an angry war cry. Tavis heard the distant crack of steel against bone, then a booming voice roared in pain. The ground bucked beneath the impact of a felled giant, and a deafening crash rumbled across the village.

As the roar died away, Brianna called, “I’ll bring Selwyn and his men forward!”

“No, Milady!” Tavis yelled, still bouncing his voice off the mountainside. “And perhaps you should be quiet. From what the stranger said, there’s more than one giant about The survivors will be listening.”

“What if they are?” the queen replied. “They’re certainly not going to attack an entire company of my guard.”

“Perhaps not, but why risk it?” the scout countered. “Take your guards and retreat to a safe place.”

“Without you?” Brianna demanded. “I think not”

“I won’t be far behind,” Tavis called. “It wouldn’t be right to abandon the stranger.”

“Quite so. We’ll wait here-in case you need help.” The queen’s tone left no doubt that she was issuing an order. “And keep yourself alive. Good bodyguards are hard to come by.”

“My duty is to keep you alive,” Tavis grumbled. “And that would be much easier if you’d do as I ask.”

“Don’t I always?” Brianna mocked. “Now hurry back. If you keep me waiting, I may lead the Company of the Winter Wolf into High Meadow myself.”