Ru Emerson - Against the Giants

The cries of her people tore at her. She clutched the dagger, but the urge was foolish-one old human woman against so many giants, the leastof them twice her height. She’d die to no cause, and these two girls would surelydie as well.

She gasped as booming laughter drowned everything, including thunder. The sky above her was blood red, then painfully blue-white. Thunder roared to deafen the very gods, but it couldn’t quite drown a spiraling roarthat shook her very bones. One of their enemies had just died up there. Rain suddenly poured down in sheets. She was soaked between one breath and another. All at once, the fires were diminished.

Wind soughed over her. Gran’s nose twisted as she smelledburned hair and charred flesh. Thunder momentarily deafened her and drove her to her knees. When she could again hear, all she could hear was a deep, rumbling voice, bellowing orders that made no sense to her.

Just after dawn, Gran coaxed the girls from hiding and backup the hill. Lharis’ dagger rested against her back the way she had seen himwear it. “In case,” she whispered, but Ilina and Nidyi didn’t hear her. Bothfollowed where she led, often stumbling. That was good. With luck, they’d neverremember the previous night. With better luck, she’d have no need of thatdagger. If she did, they were all three dead anyway.

She moved cautiously into the square, the girls behind her. The enemy was long gone, leaving behind the burned husks of buildings. The dead lay everywhere. Oddly, the village goats grazed on spilled grain just beyond the ashes of the stable. Gran frowned. Why had the giants left goats and bodies behind? It wasn’t like any of the tales she’d heard.

But she could see the answer right in the middle of the square. A dead giant sprawled across the open ground, his leather armor still smoldering and what skin she could see blackened as if by fire. She smiled grimly. A giant killer of a storm, yes. Lightning seeks whatever is tallest: tree, stone; sword set upright at a crossroads, or a giant in the midst of an otherwise barren square. The rest of his kind had fled rather than join him in death.

Behind her, a twig snapped and she whirled, dropping Ilina’swrist and fumbling awkwardly for the dagger. But it was only Lhors, weaponless, his face haggard and tears making muddy paths down a filthy face. The dark beard he’d begun to show this past year was burned in places, and one eyebrow wasmostly gone.

The girls remained where she left them. Lhors blinked at her expressionlessly, but as her fingers dug into his arm, he winced. Not in shock like the girls, then, just hurting. But there was no time for mourning-not foreither of them.

“Boy,” she hissed.

“G-gran?” he stuttered. “They’re dead. E-everyone. All ofthem.” His hand fell limp against his leg. “I tried what you said. I tried!”

“Shhh. It’s all right,” she said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” He pulled free of her grasp. “N-no one wouldlisten to me. They ran, and then I had Bregya and her youngest boy, and she l-looked at me and she… she…” He swallowed, turned away. “They’re alldead, except us,” he said finally.

Gran patted his shoulder. There was nothing she could say that would mend this, and just now, she wanted to weep for her own son. But this boy… he kept things inside when he was upset. She didn’t dare let him do itwith this. “I’m sorry, Lhors. It’s a dreadful thing. At least you and yourfather did what you could to avert it. Remember that.”

The boy’s eyes brimmed, and his lips twisted in anger. “Whyremember?” he managed, his voice thick with tears. “Will it change anything?”

“Not now, but it will help you later.”

He swore a soldier’s oath that shocked her silent. “I don’tcare about later! My father-he had no chance! He fought for the king all hisgrown life! And then, only to be cast off like an aging horse because he was too old to fight! To send him out here to protect peasants!”

“And we were grateful to him. He gave us his skills, and hegave us you. Second-guessing a life is foolish, Lhors,” Gran said flatly. “Hedied a hero. Remember that.” She wrapped both arms around him briefly. “We can’tstay here, Lhors. There’s no time. The giants may return. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head.

“You’re certain no one lives?”

He nodded.

“You’ve checked the cellars beneath the houses that aren’tburned?”

“All of that. There’s no one.” He gazed helplessly at thetwisted, blackened wreck of the stable.

Gran closed her eyes briefly. “Lhors, we’ve work to do, youand I.”

He nodded faintly. “I’ll fetch shovels-”

“No, there are too many, and there are other immediate needs.One of us must go to High Haven at once to see if they were also attacked. If not, they must be warned of the danger, as must every village around us. I will have one of the High Haveners ride down to New Market with the warning and have him bring back men to dig graves or build pyres.”

“But I can dig-”

She laid a finger across his lips, silencing him. “No. Youhave another, harder task. You must catch Old Margit or one of the other horses and take the road to Cryllor. You must request an audience with Lord Mebree and inform him of what has happened. At the very least, you must warn the guard company there that giants have done this.”

Lhors stared at her, his mouth slack. “Go to… Gran, whywould they care? And I can’t ride worth a-”

“They’ll care,” the old woman replied bluntly. “Aboutrevenues at the very least. Dead villagers don’t pay taxes. But the guard willhave to stop giants who are bold enough to openly attack the way those did. Remember that this is not a plea for our lowly selves. Remember that. Keep this in mind instead: taxes. The king will send an army to keep the money flowing.”

The boy swallowed, and his prominent throat-apple bounced. “Gran, you’re mad! You’d send me to convince a council? My father was only acaptain of one of the hill companies, and that was over twenty years ago!”

“Yes, but that’s more than any of the rest of us ever were.You are the son of a soldier, and that’s more than anyone else can claim. You are the only one we can send, Lhors. There is no one else. Now, remember to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ often, especially to officers and nobles. That may opendoors for you. Do not let them refuse to hear you, though.”

“I can try,” Lhors said doubtfully, “but I won’t leave youhere alone. We’ll all go. If I can catch Margit, the girls can ride her to HighHaven. Then I’ll go on, I promise you.”

To her dismay, Gran’s eyes filled with tears. She dashed themimpatiently aside. “Good lad. Go find Margit. We’ll wait here.”

Old Margit was nowhere around. Lhors searched for the marefor nearly an hour before giving up. If the giants had not taken her, then she had fled too far away for him to find, so he returned to the husk of a village to fetch Gran and the girls.

Before the sun was much above the horizon, Lhors, Gran, and the two children were on their way to High Haven. The first hour or so, they did not trust the road, fearing another attack by hiding giants. Instead, they stumbled their way through trees, brush, and the occasional creek. Their progress was excruciatingly slow, and after a while, Lhors urged them onto the road so that they could find refuge all the quicker.

They reached the tiny herding village at midday. Gran and the girls remained there while the villages remaining able-bodied men readied their defenses and prepared to go back to Upper Haven to bury the dead. Lhors went on, carrying a flask of water, a few ripe apples, a bit of bread, and a clay jug of herbed oil to pour over it. Mostly, he ate and drank as he walked. Now and again, he ran when the road was smooth enough, though nightfall slowed him to a walk again.