David Tallerman - Giant thief

I confess my mouth gaped a little. The patriarch's house was barely worth three onyxes. Even as a starting offer, it was outrageous, and it would leave me with only five coins. Nevertheless, I didn't have time to barter — or for that matter, intend to pay if I could help it. "Done!" I exclaimed.

This time it was his jaw that dropped.

The bargaining concluded, I was escorted to the well and gratefully guzzled cup after cup, until I was afraid that water would dribble from my ears. I called Saltlick over and he came with an escort of laughing children clutching his legs and jumping to grab at his loincloth. They watched in awe while he downed three brimming buckets full, then wiped his hand across his lips and burped happily. After that, he was led to a lean-to filled with dried grass, and I was directed to the old pipe-smoker's bench. He moved aside grudgingly to share it with me.

The sweet smoke smelled faintly of lavender, and made me drowsy. By the time my food was brought out, I was starting to nod. The aroma of warm, fresh bread roused me instantly. I looked up to see an old woman hobbling from a nearby doorway, a wooden platter clasped in hands so arthritic that I was terrified she'd drop it. She succeeded with steady determination and moments later the platter was perched beside me. As well as the bread, there was a pot of greasy rice mixed with olives and scraps of meat, and a small hunk of goat's cheese.

I'd planned to save half for the next day, but hunger took over and I ate in a stupor, stuffing food into my mouth and hardly tasting it, oblivious to everything. I had only a third of a loaf left by the time reality reasserted itself. Ruefully, I dropped it into one of the pockets inside my cloak. If I wasn't full, at least I no longer felt like my stomach was trying to devour the rest of my organs.

I stood, stepped out into the square, glanced to the north — and froze. On the high edge of the Hunch, half-visible between trees, a pinprick line of fires burned. They could only be torches. Our pursuers had made up a huge distance. Something about those steady, bobbing flames made cold sweat bead across my whole body.

"Saltlick," I called, forcing my voice down to a steady pitch, "it's time we were moving on."

Saltlick, having made considerable inroads into the grass, now sat beside the shelter, the gaggle of children still clambering noisily around and over him. He could have snapped any one of them in half with the wave of a hand, yet they were perfectly unafraid and trusting. I realised how much my perceptions had been coloured by seeing the giants fight that morning. I remembered the one holding a horse and its stricken rider in the air, about to cast them to the ground, and shuddered. They hadn't seemed so placid then.

Saltlick looked up. When I barked his name again, he stood and lumbered over. I tried to motion northward with my head, but I couldn't tell whether he understood.

Before I could say anything, the patriarch darted over, with a surprising turn of speed. "So, both satisfied? It's a shame to leave so soon, and in the dark, with mountain lions, bandits, and worse abroad. We could provide lodgings at reasonable rates, and perhaps a barn for your friend."

"A gracious offer. Sadly we have far to go, and time is precious."

"Well then. The price is three onyxes, agreed fair and square."

I wondered how quickly I could get onto Saltlick's shoulder, and if he would leave when I ordered him to. Perhaps he would even take the villagers' side over mine. None of them was in any shape to pose much resistance, but there was something unsavoury in the idea of trampling our way through a barricade of old people and children. I pulled out Moaradrid's purse and opened the drawstring with a resigned sigh.

Looking inside, a thought occurred to me. "You've been very generous, not to say hospitable. The rice and cheese were an unexpected bonus, and your youngsters have made my companion welcome. In short, I wonder if three onyxes is ample payment."

The patriarch's eyes flickered between greed and suspicion. "That's true, our kindliness is famous hereabouts. Still, a deal is a deal, and rarely improved by last minute alterations."

I drew forth the ruby and laid it in his palm.

"I'd intended this to be a gift for my paramour. The more I think about it, however, the more I realise she's proven herself unfaithful and inattentive on far too many occasions. It's worth a thousand times the agreed sum. Nonetheless, I'd like you to have it."

I backed towards Saltlick and eyed the netting. I could see the line of torches behind the patriarch, partly hidden by a rise but definitely closer. I had a vague hope that he'd bring the gem to their attention, either by boasting or by trying to sell it, and that finding it might convince them to abandon their pursuit. But if we waited much longer, I'd be giving it to them in person.

The patriarch gawped at the glittering thing in his hand. The others had gathered around to stare with him. Only the children were unimpressed. He found his voice eventually. "Pretty though it is, this won't buy us grain."

"It's worth all the grain on the Hunch."

He continued more certainly, "Trinkets are all well and good for rich folks. For peasants, ready currency is the only useful sort."

I pointed past him. "If you can't appreciate it for its aesthetic value, I'm sure those gentlemen will take it off your hands."

He seemed uncertain, now, even nervous. "Are those riders?"

"Yes indeed. Maybe they'll require lodgings."

I grasped the netting and made to swing up, but he stopped me with a glare. Seeing no option, I drew out an onyx and tossed it towards him.

"Here, for your more pressing needs, though I feel less inclined now to speak well of Reb Panza's hospitality."

I clambered to Saltlick's shoulder while he was scrabbling in the dust.

"I can't say it's been a pleasure doing business. Still, I wish you a good night."

I pointed Saltlick towards the road, and we were gone before the patriarch could raise any further objections.

The road took us quickly higher, so that the trees and foliage thinned out and the boulders grew more rugged and pronounced. It swept up in long curves, doubling back on itself time and again. Its convolutions gave me a good view of the way we'd passed — and of the line of torches approaching in our wake.

I'd taken pains to impress our urgency on Saltlick, though I doubted he wanted to be recaptured any more than I did. He had redoubled his pace, so that it took all my strength to stay on his shoulder, and all my willpower not to throw up. I wasn't about to complain. I suspected now that the riders had deliberately idled through the day, taking a gamble that we would either exhaust ourselves or try to go to ground. Whatever the reason, it was clear they'd only begun to stretch themselves after nightfall. They'd covered a remarkable distance during the hour we'd wasted in Reb Panza. Even now, with Saltlick jogging at what seemed an outrageous speed, they were still gaining.

After a few minutes, the lights bunched together. That seemed odd, until I realised they'd reached the village. There was no illumination except for the torches, a performance of shimmering yellow dots on a black stage. Some spread out to form a wide circular border while the remainder drifted into the centre.

When, five minutes later, they were still in that pattern, I began hesitantly to relax. "Slow down a little," I told Saltlick, "I think they've stopped."

He did as ordered, and I continued to watch. It was dull entertainment. The dots in the centre bobbed and weaved, with inscrutable purpose. The outer circle held firm without so much as a tremor. After another five minutes, I decided that the chase was over for the time being. Either they'd recovered the ruby and were satisfied or they'd decided to camp for the night, confident in their ability to run us down in the morning. I faced forward, breathed a sigh of relief, and wondered if we might be safe to find a campsite of our own.