Siegestone: Book 1 of the Gemstones and Giants Trilogy

by E. S. Maya

  Siegestone

  Book 1 of the Gemstones and Giants Trilogy

  E. S. Maya

  Copyright © 2020 by E. S. Maya

  Cartography by Seth Tomlinson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Part I

  1. Where Giants Walked

  2. Mother's Stew

  3. An Unexpected Visit

  4. The Other Children

  5. The Road

  6. Wolf and Raven

  7. Sleight of Hand

  8. Breaking Bread

  9. A Boy Named Yacoub

  10. Secrets

  11. Shadows and Starlight

  12. Harbor

  13. The Sleeping Giant

  14. All the Precious Things

  15. Homestead

  16. Morning Chow

  17. Eyes of Amber

  18. The Oasis

  19. From Whence Blood Flows

  Part II

  20. Miner

  21. A Helping Hand

  22. Matters of Strength

  23. Blessing Day Best

  24. The Siege Titan Cronus

  25. Hallowed Stone

  26. The Girl Who Worked

  27. Old Grudges

  28. The Bonfire

  29. Boys' Business

  30. Boy's Business II

  31. A Choice of Gods

  32. Slow Music

  33. The Serren Feathers

  34. Thirty Lonesome Nights

  35. Hiding Spots

  36. Moving Mountains

  37. The Long Way Down

  38. Stonebreaker

  39. The Father of Stone

  40. A Place for Giants

  41. Shades of Blue

  42. The Shoemaker's Son

  43. A Thousand Simple Steps

  44. Goggles

  45. A Friendly Wager

  46. Pillow Talk

  47. Tooth and Claw

  48. Tooth and Claw II

  Part III

  49. Wallflower

  50. A Song Called Friendship

  51. The Bold and the Blind

  52. Winterwood

  53. An Unexpected Visit II

  54. The Ocean and the Goldfish

  55. Titansbane

  56. Iron and Stone

  57. The Raven Paradox

  58. Faith

  59. Dinner for Wolves

  60. Of Men and Gryphons

  61. Dark She Was, and Golden-Eyed

  62. The Spring Wind Blows

  63. Siege Titan Cronus

  Part I

  1

  Where Giants Walked

  For as long as mankind could remember, the Siege Titan Safiyas walked the face of the world.

  Each footstep moved a meadow’s worth of grass and soil and stone. Each arm was a massive pendulum, counting the slow, swinging seconds from now until the end of time. She was breathless and blind, never to tire nor hunger, and her shoulders brushed clouds as she marched across the world—forever.

  Safi opened her eyes and yelped, kicking out the pebble that had sneaked inside her sandal. A Siege Titan she was not, though it rarely hurt to imagine. Following a much-needed sigh, she straightened her hair and adjusted her satchel, and continued down the village road, counting the empty cottages and freshly budding trees.

  Watching for the Siege Titan’s footprints.

  The real footprints, mind you, not the daydreams of a thirteen-year-old girl who knew she ought to have outgrown games of pretend! Safi cringed at the thought. Her friends had always teased her for wanting to play Titan. Well, now she didn’t have any friends and could play whatever she wanted.

  Not that there were many games to choose from, all by her lonesome self.

  She sighed dramatically this time. At least those Titanprints weren’t going anywhere. She could see them now on the valley floor, converging with the road, coming close enough to toss a stone at. At least Safi assumed so. Skinny as she was, she had never had been one for stone tossing.

  She smiled as the footprints came into full view—the vast, sunken impressions of the stone giant’s historic march. Its feet had carved their shapes into the otherwise flat hinterland, but that had been more than a hundred years ago. Now the impressions resembled a series of steep hills. Each was as deep as the height of a man but long enough to steal your breath after running from heel to toe. She knew that from experience.

  What impressed her the most wasn’t their size, but just how many of them there were. The footprints stretched across the valley and climbed into the mountains, continuing to God-knows-where. It amazed her to think that somewhere out there, far from the Kingdom of Andolas, that same Titan was marching still. Where in the world could it be?

  A breeze swept through the valley, numbing Safi’s cheeks and nipping her exposed ankles. She flipped up her shearling collar, the fuzzy flaps engulfing her face, and pulled her sheepskin coat tight. She had found it in one of the abandoned homes of her village, where there were many old things to find and keep. Another of the games she’d played with her friends before their homes became abandoned too.

  Sighing once more, she buried her hand in her coat pocket, fishing through the silver sovereigns that chilled her dainty fingers. An unusual amount of money to be carrying around, but her mother had piled the coins into her pocket as she stepped out the cottage door. She’d have to solve that little mystery later.

  Finally, she found what she was searching for: a folded slip of paper that had gone into her pocket along with the money. A shopping list, the first her mother had trusted to her. She sincerely hoped it wasn’t the last.

  Her stomach growled as she read the list of ingredients for tonight’s stew: Tail of ox (with tail underlined), a bottle of fresh milk, carrots, tomatoes, green onions, two large potatoes (large underlined), and cabbage. It had been years since she had eaten so many different vegetables at once. Not since the day the mayor announced that Ashcroft’s iron mines had run dry.

  Carefully, she tore a strip off the bottom of the shopping list and tossed it to the wind. Cabbage. You could boil it or fry it, cook it leaves-whole or chopped into tiny bits, and nothing improved the taste. After the long winter, she was just about through with the stuff.

  If Father were around, she was certain he would agree. One week ago, most of Ashcroft’s remaining miners had departed to climb the passing Siege Titan. It wasn’t the same giant that had passed through Ashcroft’s valley so many centuries ago, but one of several others that wandered the world. The Siege Titan’s course had been plotted years in advance, and the opportunity to climb one was rare indeed. And profitable, too. For dotting the surface of the Siege Titans’ backs were the legendary Siegestones, the most beautiful and precious gemstones in the world.

  At least that was what the Titan tales said. The adults seemed to believe so. That was convincing enough for Safi.

  The men’s departure had been a somber occasion, but Safi told anyone who would listen how she wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Her father promised his return, and he always kept his promises. She didn’t tell them how his parting made her stomach ache in a different way from hunger. First from worry, now from loneliness. She loved her mother dearly, but it was difficult to live with her without Father to keep her attention. She was, after all, a woman who never minded to eat cabbage.

  Dragging her heels down the road, Safi stared at the
abandoned, half-sunken cottages with a sense of longing. Ashcroft was falling apart. Once her father returned, the Azadis would be leaving too.

  When the thumps of dirt beneath her sandals were replaced by the clip-clap of stone, she looked up from her feet and found herself near the village square. While most of Ashcroft village followed the Titan’s historic path, here was a pocket of civilization surrounded by walls of sturdy gray bricks. Those walls, her father once explained, were built from the same stone as the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

  Outside the open portcullis leaned a stormy-bearded guard on the butt of an old spear. She recognized the man, though no name in particular sprang to mind. It had been ages since the priest moved away and the church shut down. Since then, there had been so few reasons for Ashcroft’s townsfolk to gather, and she spent scant time around adults.

  The guard stood a little taller when he noticed her, adjusting his loose-fitting leather clothing and making sure his helmet sat on straight.

  Safi raised her palm in greeting. “Fair Blessings to you.” Today, of course, was Blessing Day, the seventh and holiest day of the week. At least by northerners’ standards.

  “Ho, Blessings,” the guard called, waving so enthusiastically she feared he might fall from the effort. His eyes narrowed as she approached. “It’s Yusef’s girl, isn’t it!”

  “The one and only,” answered Safi. It wasn’t much of a question. Her father was the only Abedi man in Ashcroft. Any of the villagers, short of being blind, would recognize his daughter at once.

  “Now there’s a face I didn’t expect to see this morning,” said the guard, chuckling softly. “Not without your mother dragging you beside her.”

  Safi’s eyebrow twitched. Was that what the villagers pictured when they thought of her? “I’m surprised to see you too, mister,” she said, a little mischief coloring her voice. “Have the other men forgotten to take you along on the Titan climb?”

  “Forgotten!” the guard guffawed. “Someone’s got to keep Ashcroft safe while those young fools are off playing the hero. But never mind that.” Glancing at Safi’s legs, he stroked his beard in disapproval. “Look at the bones on you, girl. I’ve seen chicken thighs with more meat on them! At least in the days when we still had chickens.”

  Safi strained to keep her smile. She hated how adults always felt the need to comment on her appearance. If it wasn’t the color of her skin or her hair or her eyes, it was the gauntness to her cheeks or the frailty to her limbs. It wasn’t like she chose to look how she did. That besides, the old guard wasn’t much to look at himself. Not that she dared voice her opinion.

  “How I’d buy you a meal myself,” lamented the guard, “had I a piece of silver to spare for the morrow.”

  That gave Safi pause. She had a piece of silver in her pocket. Quite a few of them, in fact. That wasn’t to say she had any to spare. “It’s fine, mister, really—”

  “I told that father of yours that the north was no place for Abed,” the guard went on. “Told him that God intended his people—your people—for the lands of the south. It’s as hot and dry down there as you could imagine, but Abed were shaped for such places. The deserts make them a fine home.”

  Safi stared at her toes. The lands of the Abed were the sort of faraway places she heard about in her father’s Titan tales. But she could barely imagine what a desert looked like, never mind living in one. How could she dream of calling such a place home? Hesitantly, she looked at the guard and asked, “Have you been to the kingdoms of the Abed?”

  “Kingdoms!” The guard guffawed once more “The Abedi have sultanates, little southerling. Alas, I’ve never been to their lands. Now, don’t make such a sour face or you’ll find it stuck that way. Just because I haven’t been there doesn’t mean I haven’t heard the stories.”

  Safi rolled her eyes. “Everyone hears stories. Have you even traveled outside of Andolas before, mister?”

  “What self-respecting Andolan would go and do something so pointless? Only a brazen young fool, I reckon. Why blister your two good feet when your ears can do the traveling for you?

  Safi covered her mouth and giggled. There was something sincerely stupid about the man’s logic. Then she cursed her lack of wit, for she could think of nothing clever to say. She supposed his ears were indeed large and hairy, like they had listened to their fair share of stories.

  “What else do you know about the Abed?” asked Safi. The question embarrassed her a little, but it bothered her not to know. Her father had told her plenty of Titan tales, but he took no pleasure in sharing the details of his personal life before his journey to the Northern Kingdoms. It had something to do with the war, but she knew little more than that.

  “I know all sorts of important things,” the guard said. “More than I can count on my nine good fingers.” He propped the spear on his shoulder and held up his hands for emphasis. One of his thumbs was missing, at which Safi stifled a gasp. “Did you know that instead of horses,” the guard said excitedly, “the Abed ride camels? And not just any old camels, though they have those as well. Theirs come in a number of shapes and sizes, including the one, two, and three-humped variety!”

  Safi scratched the side of her head. “I don’t think camels come with that many humps.” She had always imagined them having two. How else were you supposed to ride the things?

  Smiling to himself, the guard continued, “And instead of houses of timber and straw, the Abed live exclusively in tents. Don’t assume that they’re anything like the flimsy Blessing Day structures we used to have around Ashcroft! The smallest Abedi tent is larger than your average cottage, and they’re pitched so closely together that you can pass from one family’s dwelling to another. Even the sultans live in tents, though theirs come in the size of palaces, held aloft by bejeweled stone posts and draped in silk and cotton.”

  “That doesn’t sound very practical,” Safi said doubtfully. But another word had caught her attention. “What sort of jewels do they have, exactly?”

  “Oh, the usual diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires…” The guard smirked. “And Siegestones, of course. In the sultanates of the Abed, the shiny little things aren’t worth their weight in copper.”

  Safi scoffed. She knew that was an outright lie. While her father rarely spoke of his younger years, he had told her all about Siegestones. “Everyone knows Siegestones are the rarest and most expensive gemstones in the world,” she said pointedly.

  The guard stroked his beard. “That’s true in the south, too. But there’s not an Abed in the world who would trade gold for a Siegestone. They’d gladly cut off a northerner’s hand for trying to steal one though!”

  Safi flinched at the thought.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the guard. Then he patted her roughly on the head, and she bristled at the touch, for it had taken her the good half of an hour to prepare her hair before leaving.

  “I’m not frightened,” Safi said as her hands flew to straighten her golden braid. “And why in the world did you tousle my hair?”

  “In the lands of the Abed,” the guard said, “the only reason children fix their hair is to give grown-ups a good reason to mess it up again.” The guard laughed then, with belly-slapping emphasis.

  Safi tossed back her head and joined him. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And what’s this talk of grown-ups? I’m practically marrying age, you know. I’m thirteen years old!”

  The guard recoiled then, as if struck by an unseen fist. “Thirteen, you say?”

  “Since the start of winter,” she said proudly. “You can ask my dad if you don’t believe me.” She prepared for another jest or another far-fetched claim. Instead the guard remained silent, his expression as still as stone. All the merriment that had been there a moment ago was gone.

  “Thirteen,” he repeated, speaking more to himself than to Safi. “I suppose it ought to be around that time. Answer me then, what brings you to the village square?”

 
Safi dug out her shopping list and waved it back and forth. “I’ve come to fetch some groceries.” The guard looked even more dismayed, so she cleared her throat and added, “mother’s orders.”

  “Groceries.” The guard nearly choked on the word. “Well don’t let me keep you from your meal,” he said with a smile, though Safi found no joy to the expression. He shuffled aside to allow her entry and the portcullis was open before her. “If anyone gives you trouble, you come right back and tell me.”

  “Will do, mister,” Safi said, though she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would need the old man’s help. She expected him to say more, but he seemed at a loss for words. That smile on his face was beginning to frighten her. “I’ll be on my way, then.” She flopped over in a hasty bow. Then, heart racing, she scampered through the portcullis before the guard changed his mind.

  A couple of minutes later, Safi paused to catch her breath. Her first stop was the butcher, but a quick detour was in order. In the center of the village square stood the statue of the Siege Titan Ashwalker, and she always paid it a visit. The Titan wasn’t just Ashcroft’s namesake, but the very reason the village had been founded in the first place. For there was a time long ago when the men of the north, too, worshiped the Titans.