by Sarah Rayne
‘Oho,’ he had said. ‘Bless us and save us and may we all grow to be two hundred and ten! What have we here?’ He bent over a little, the better to see. ‘Humans,’ he said, nodding delightedly. ‘By the hairs of my beard, Humans!
Come along in, do. The King will be pleased. Come inside.’ He flung the door wide and beckoned with one hand and Fenella and Floy and Snodgrass stepped inside.
Once inside, it was not nearly so alarming. The room where Balor had been sitting was very nearly normal. The three travellers, still keeping close together, thought it was furnished just as you would expect a gatekeeper’s abode to be furnished. To be sure, there were giant-sized tables and chairs and the cups and plates were giant-sized as well. But there were also ordinary, human-sized things; a rather nice oak table with carved chairs and what Snodgrass thought was called a dresser, where you would arrange your best china, or perhaps pewter or copper mugs. Fenella thought there was the feeling that the human-sized things had been pushed to one side to make room for the Gruagach’s and this was suddenly extremely reassuring, because it gave the Gruagach’s occupancy an unexpected air of impermanency. They would not be here so very long, after all, these giants.
Balor was pouring them each a thimbleful of mead, ‘For,’ he said, in his rumbling voice, ‘I daresay you’ll be chilled to the marrow and that’s a nasty thing, to get a chill in your marrow, by the great toe of the god Dagda, it is.’ He reached down and gave them each a cup of mead, and the cups were, after all, proper cups, and not thimbles, which was what they had looked like in Balor’s huge hands.
‘Drink it up, Humans, while I go along and see if the King will receive you,’ he said, and chuckled suddenly, as if enjoying some private joke.
Fenella and Floy sipped cautiously at the mead in case it might have something peculiar added to it, but Snodgrass, who was interested in food and wine, drank it all and smacked his lips and said it was very good indeed, and quite probably made from pure honey, which was extremely important when you made mead.
When Balor came back, which was quite soon, he was beaming all over his coarse red face. The King would be delighted to receive them, it appeared. Balor had strict instructions to take them straight up to the Sun Chamber which was a very great honour. And so, if they had all finished their mead and had had a bit of a warm at his fire — ‘best beechwood, and burn my bristles if there weren’t four beech naiads roasted in the process and the smell of it enough to turn your stomach!’ — he’d take them along that very instant.
There was no help for it. And anyway, thought Fenella, this was what they had come for. They had come to beard the giants in their lair. She wished she had not used the word lair because it conjured up rather unpleasant visions. But then she remembered that this was Tara, the beautiful shining palace, the home of Nuadu’s ancestors, the Wolfkings and that, surely, oh surely, nothing inside Tara could ever be truly evil.
Balor led them along corridors and galleries; through halls and chambers where the ceilings were painted with unearthly beings and the floors were etched with unreal symbols.
‘Minor sorceries,’ he explained, huffing a bit as they ascended a great, curving stairway with carved gilt balustrades. ‘They’re all over the place here. I don’t like’em a bit, but His Majesty likes to dabble a bit now and then. And Goibniu calls up the demons from time to time. Wicked sly things, demons, for all the sorcerers tell you they’re easily controlled! But the sorcerers say one thing and Goibniu says another and between them His Majesty ends up with demons dancing when they play the Fidchell.’ He sent them what Fenella and Floy both thought of as a sudden sly look. ‘I daresay they won’t have the Fidchell where you’ve come from,’ said Balor.
‘I am afraid not,’ said Floy tranquilly.
They had reached the top of the curved gilt stair now and there was a huge echoing, galleried landing, with double doors directly ahead of them, with wolfheads carved into the panelling. More of the strange symbols writhed about the architraves and Balor stopped and said, ‘Here it is. The ancient Sun Chamber of the exiled Wolfkings. The place they called Medchuarta, although I’ll lay you the fire demons of Reflection that it won’t be called that much longer.’ He threw open the great double doors and the three travellers stepped into the Court of the Giants.
Chapter Seventeen
To begin with, Floy and Fenella and Snodgrass were dazzled by the light and the noise and the heat which seemed to billow out in an immense, solid wave.
There were rather unpleasant smells in the heat; rancid sweat and stale, onion-tainted breath. Unwashed bodies, thought Fenella with a brief twist of nausea. This is going to be rather nasty. And then she looked directly ahead of her and knew that it was all going to be very nasty indeed.
The Gruagach were all waiting, standing in a half-circle about the King who was seated on a great carved Throne, on a raised area at the far end of the Sun Chamber. Fifteen feet tall at least, every one of them. With great heavy bodies and ugly brutish faces and thick, ungainly hands like blunt clubs. In the main, they wore leather boots, with the tops rolled down, and leather jerkins and breeches made of some kind of skin. Over this, most of them had put' on fur-trimmed robes, in dark reds and purples and plum colours, and the females had twisted garish jewellery about their necks and threaded pearls and circlets studded with brilliants into their hair.
They were as ugly as they were huge. Their faces were coarse and red and small-eyed. They had straw-coloured thatches of hair and thick repulsive necks and wide stupid mouths that just now were grinning and showing rotting teeth. The females had powdered their faces with thick white powder which had caked into the folds of skin, but, beneath the powder, they were still red-faced. Fenella, staring, could not decide if this was better or worse. Here and there, their great clumsy hands were curved into predators’ talons. Floy, moving closer to Fenella, noticed that one of them, who wore some kind of chain of office over a purple robe with a very short pleated skirt that left most of his crimson-hosed legs bare, was eyeing Fenella with dreadful grinning lechery and his hands were curving and flexing.
As the three travellers crossed the floor and drew nearer to the waiting giants, the giants grinned rather slyly at one another, and bent down — The better to see us, thought Floy — and the King, who had not moved, but who was resting his chin on one hand and watching, beckoned to the travellers to come nearer. His hand was fat and podgy and the nails were curved and thick and looked as if they might be made of horn.
‘We shall not hurt you, Humans,’ said the one with the chain of office and the giant who occupied the Throne, who had elaborately curled hair that made him look stupider than the rest, said at once, ‘We do not hurt Humans, you know,’ and a rather sinister laugh went round the watching circle.
Floy felt Fenella shiver, and he stepped forward, and said, ‘We bid you welcome, Your Majesty,’ and eyed the giants very directly, and supposed that this would be an acceptable form of greeting. Slow, thought Floy, studying them covertly. Brutish. Yes, I do believe that if they show themselves hostile, we could outwit them. The King looks mild enough and as if he might be persuaded one way or the other. But I don’t trust that one with the purple robe and the heavy gold chain, thought Floy, glancing sideways to where Goibniu stood at Inchbad’s side. I believe he’d have us all in the dungeons or into the sculleries before we could turn round.
Goibniu had come forward to meet the travellers, smiling with his wide, flat mouth. He bent down to take Floy’s hand in his own, the golden chain of his office swinging and clanking about his neck.
‘You are very welcome at Tara,’ he said and straightened up and eyed Fenella with his small hot eyes. ‘Dear me, it’s a very long time since we could welcome Human travellers to our supper table, is it not, Sire?’
At once the King said eagerly, ‘My word, it is.’ And, leaning forward, said, rather anxiously, ‘I wonder, are you anything to do with the Feargach Grian?
Floy felt the waiting silence descend on the
Sun Chamber and guessed at once that the Gruagach had seen the Angry Sun and that they had woven stories about it, as Fael-Inis had said they would. He drew in a deep breath, because surely this was something they could turn to their advantage.
‘We have travelled with the Sun,’ he said at last and saw at once that they drew back a little. Good! thought Floy. He felt an unexpected surge of confidence and felt, in the same moment, the identical emotion from Fenella and with it a shared thought: We can beat these great stupid giants with ease!
‘At times,’ said Floy, his mind vividly alive, searching deep into his memory for help, ‘at times, we have followed the flaming fire that in our world is called the Angry Sun and at other times, it has followed us.’ He looked at them and thought: well, that’s shaken them a bit at any rate! I believe they won’t quite know what standing to accord us now! And stood his ground and waited to see what they would do next.
Inchbad was rather impressed by Floy. Indeed he was very impressed by three Human travellers who might have come from anywhere at all but who had, apparently, come, in some inexplicable manner, from the Feargach Grian itself. He thought that this might very well turn out to be quite a solemn occasion, because it was not often you met Humans (were they truly Humans?) who had travelled from another world in the Feargach Grian.
Inchbad looked to Goibniu, because Goibniu usually knew what to say on these occasions, but Goibniu was staring at the Girl, pretty creature she was as well, and clearly the only thing that Goibniu was thinking about just now was sending Caspar to bring the Girl to his bedchamber later on. Inchbad hoped that Goibniu would not roll on this one before they had had a chance to find out a bit more about the Feargach Grian and the world that the Humans might come from. It was quite important to keep your mind open and learn about other worlds. And so he leaned closer to the Humans and said, very cunningly, ‘And what is it like inside the Feargach Grian? and sat back, pleased with himself, and pleased to note that the Court was looking at him with respect and nodding at one another. Arca Dubh had dug Goll the Gorm in the ribs and looked as if he might be saying hadn’t the King the way of cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Floy said, clearly and loudly, ‘To journey inside the Angry Sun, the legendary and eternal Feargach Grian, is the most remarkable thing you would ever know, Your Majesty,’ and grinned. Then he turned to wink, in the most casual way imaginable, at one of the giantesses, who looked taken aback and then simpered and twisted the rope of pearls she wore about her fingers and hunched a shoulder, coyly.
Floy said, ‘You are an unusual race, Your Majesty,’ as if he was considering the Gruagach rather in the manner of one who might collect weird specimens. And then, to strengthen this impression, he turned to Fenella and Snodgrass. ‘I do not think we have met a more unusual?’ he said.
‘Well, no,’ said Snodgrass, gamely joining in.
‘There were the Star People,’ said Fenella, plundering her mind for any snippet and tag-end of legend that might help them and that might intrigue the giants further. ‘But of course, they were filled with the — the Magic of the Far Skies. You can’t really count them,’ said Fenella firmly.
‘Nor you can,’ said Floy, and sent Fenella one of his grins, so that Fenella knew that Floy believed that to fascinate and dazzle these fearsome creatures might very well be their salvation.
‘And there were the people of the Fire Court,’ said Fenella, remembering that this had been discussed in the Wolfwood.
At once, a murmur of interest went round, because wasn’t the King actually negotiating for an alliance with the daughter of Reflection who presided over the Fire Court.
Goibniu said, ‘You have visited the Fire Court?’ and the tiny pig-eyes were shrewd.
‘We were honoured guests of Reflection,’ said Floy, unblushingly.
‘But,’ put in Fenella, who was finding it remarkably easy to maintain this pretence, ‘we are, of course, pledged to secrecy about its people. ‘
‘You will know why,’ said Floy, in the sort of confidential tone that is hardly ever questioned. He grinned at the simpering giantess again, who giggled and nudged her neighbours.
‘Yes,’ said Inchbad, staring at Floy. ‘Yes, to be sure we will.’ And hoped that this sounded convincing, because of course it would not do for them to let these rather unexpected Humans suspect that they did not know very much about the Fire Court. Well, if the truth were to be told, they knew nothing at all.
Goibniu did not like Humans (except for use in the Fidchell of course), but he was finding Floy and Fenella a bit out of the usual run. He stroked his chin and thought that, although they would certainly put these three to the heated squares, if they did indeed know the Fire Court they might be very useful in an unexpected manner.
Goibniu had intended to send a deputation to the Fire Court, with what was really a very generous offer of a marriage settlement for Reflection’s daughter Flame. The King had been very pleased with it, although one or two of the younger ones (Goll the Gorm had been particularly obstructive) had questioned whether they really needed to give away quite so much and whether they really needed to commission the Gnomes of Gallan to fashion a complete set of Royal raiments for Flame. Goibniu had squashed such rebelliousness at once, of course, and the Gnomes had been given the commission. If these three had, in truth, been guests of Reflection, and if they really did know the Fire Court, it was something they might very well make use of.
So Goibniu smiled kindly at Floy and Fenella and the odd-looking person who was with them and said they’d be bound to be cold and tired after their journey; he’d heard that the Feargach Grian could be a wearisome thing to deal with. They would be most welcome to a bed for the night. And pretended not to hear the chuckles that went round because, as a general rule, when Goibniu offered a bed for the night to Humans, he meant a bed in the dungeons for the Men and a share of his own bed for the Girls. The giants rubbed their hands with delight and nodded to one another, because nobody had expected to have such a catch of Humans so quickly after the last celebrating of the Fidchell. One or two of the younger ones thought it was a pity they had not saved the first batch, because with these three added to it, it would have made for a much better game and certainly more strongly flavoured Manpies, but the older ones said no, wasn’t it better by far to be able to celebrate two Fidchells within days of each other.
Caspar was summoned from wherever he had been to take the guests to two of the bed-chambers.
‘And then,’ said Goibniu, who was beginning to suspect Caspar of not being as zealous as he might be in his duties, ‘and then, good Caspar, perhaps it is time that you arranged that other little matter we spoke of?’
‘Oh, very well,’ said Caspar, who knew perfectly well that the other little matter was the searching out of more Humans who might have been in the Angry Sun, but who had been hoping to avoid this.
‘But before that, you must of course, settle our guests into the nicest of our rooms,’ said Goibniu, reaching down again, unable to resist just pinching Fenella’s cheek. Fenella gasped and just managed not to flinch, because Goibniu’s finger felt bristly and scratchy and leathery like the hide of a very old pig and altogether horrid. But clearly it was important not to show any discourtesy to these people and so Fenella smiled up at him.
‘You are very kind,’ said Floy, who had seen the pinch and felt Fenella’s repressed distaste. He would have liked to leap at the gross ugly creature and drive a sword into him, but since this was impossible, he merely said, ‘We should be glad of a night’s rest.’
‘And after that,’ said Goibniu, with a glance at the King, ‘I think we may have a task for you.’ And beamed again.
‘I think you’d better be careful,’ said Caspar, leading them through a bewildering array of rooms and galleries and halls.
‘They seem friendly enough,’ said Floy cautiously, in case Caspar might be in league with the giants.
‘They’re giving us a bed for the night anyway,’ sai
d Snodgrass, and Caspar looked at them.
‘Don’t you know, don’t any of you know that when giants give a task to anyone, and when giants — any giants — show friendliness to Humans it is very dangerous. In fact, it’s extremely dangerous,’ said Caspar, scurrying along through the brightly lit halls where once Nuadu Airgetlam’s ancestors had held court and where once the entire western world had flocked.
Snodgrass wanted to know why.
‘Well,’ said Caspar, with a warning glance to Fenella, ‘they’re partial to Humans in rather sinister ways, if you take my meaning.’
‘What sort of ways?’
Caspar said ‘Oh, really!’ in an exasperated voice. ‘Where have you come from?’ he said, and then at once, ‘And don’t say the Feargach Grian, because don’t we all of us know that nobody really comes from that. At least, those of us with any wits know it. Giants,’ said Caspar knowledgeably, ‘aren’t particularly clever, you see.’
‘No?’ said Snodgrass, who was saving this all up to tell Snizort later on.
‘They’re very stupid indeed,’ said Caspar, hurrying across a huge, galleried landing with a marble floor and queerly shaped wall sconces. ‘That’s why most Humans can outwit them. Dear me,’ he said, stopping outside two carved doors, ‘dear me, how do you suppose I’ve been coping with them since they came to Tara?’
‘I beg your pardon,’ said Fenella, ‘but what are you exactly? I mean, what is your position here?’
‘I’m a pimp,’ said Caspar, tucking his chins into his neck solemnly. Tm not especially proud of it, but there it is.’ And then, seeing Fenella's lack of comprehension, ‘I procure girls for them,’ he said.
‘Oh!’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ said Caspar, a bit more loudly than he intended. ‘I did it for the Court -I mean the proper Court and I might say that pimping for the High King — the true High King that is — has always been considered rather an honourable profession. Not that the Wolfkings ever needed much assistance in that direction, of course, because there's a saying that they had only to lift a finger and half the females in Ireland would lie down and — But I'm forgetting my company,’ said Caspar, with a belated look at Fenella. ‘It's all this living so close to Inchbad’s people. It coarsens you.
