Kings: Chaos Book 5.5

by Claire Farrell

  Aneurin nodded. “We’re safe in this area. There’s little here for the fir bolg to be interested in. And the trees are high up on a steep mountain. We have a route that the fir bolg are too large to take, and one or two people can easily slip up and down to tend to the trees there. But a large group of us? And also taking trees with us? That’s a much more difficult job. The fir bolg will be interested in what we’re doing, more will come, and they’ll try to follow us.”

  “What do you need from us?”

  “My people will get you your trees,” Aneurin promised, “as long as you can distract the fir bolg long enough for them to get out of plain sight.”

  “We confront the fir bolg,” Brendan said.

  “No,” Aneurin said hurriedly. “Battles rarely end well. You’re taking the biggest risk, so I’ll be accompanying you. With my help, you’ll hopefully remain out of their reach. We must lure the fir bolg, make them think we have something they want. Just your appearance will intrigue them, and they will follow. We must lead them on a merry chase and finally make it back to your ship. My daughter told me the task you set for her.” He lowered his voice. “And I thank you for it.”

  Brendan nodded. “We serve as a distraction long enough for the trees to get to the ship, and then we follow. It doesn’t sound complicated.”

  “That’s because you’ve never seen a fir bolg,” Aneurin said with a smile like Eira’s. “They cause destruction, even without meaning to. Our spoken stories, the ones that come from our ancestors, tell us that they eventually came here after destroying their own land, although some stories infer they were given this land after a great service. Either way, the fir bolg are not to be taken lightly.”

  “What should we watch out for?” Bran asked.

  Aneurin’s jaws tightened. “Avoid staying out of their reach, mostly. They move slowly, but their strides are long. They carry massive slings with which they fling large rocks. They’re strong enough to throw boulders with their own hands, but the slings move the rocks farther along. If you’re hit, we leave you behind. Do you all understand?”

  Brendan looked at his companions who all nodded. “We understand the risks.”

  “Perhaps you don’t. They were built to hunt and destroy. Stay far enough away, and they may forget they ever saw you, but if you get close, you could trigger a frenzy in them.”

  “A frenzy?” Alyss said scornfully.

  “When the frenzy hits, their muscles bulge, their eyes turn red, and they become unstoppable. They’ll hunt to the point of their own death. Even if the fir bolg doesn’t stone you to death, if one gets their hands on you, they’ll literally tear your body apart. We are nothing compared to them, and you’ve said our people are the champions of your land. If that doesn’t convince you, then nothing will. They carry sacks on their hips, and our elders say they like to take the remains of their victims and shove them in the bags to eat later.” He folded his arms. “Are you still certain you want to do this?”

  Brendan straightened, offended by the question. “My companions may do as they wish, but while I hold the sword of victory, I cannot fail. And I can’t go home without those trees. Our land is depending on us. I couldn’t live with not trying. I’d rather die failing.”

  “Then we’ll leave immediately,” Aneurin said. “We’ll travel with the others for a time, and then break away when necessary.” His lips twitched. “I hope you can run fast.”

  Brendan mentally thanked Cara for provoking his interest in the activity.

  They left soon after, traversing the narrow, claustrophobic tunnels again. Bran hummed under his breath without realising it, which amused Brendan.

  “This is your chance to be a hero,” Brendan said, trying to keep the mood light. “And you’re preparing for it by singing human songs.”

  “I was not,” Bran hissed back.

  Brendan teased Bran out of his fear by the time they reached the surface. The sky was startlingly blue, and it surprised Brendan how hard it was to look in the light. It took his people a few minutes to adjust.

  “This way,” Aneurin said, and they all set off in small groups, spread out in case they had to run.

  Brendan and Bran stayed close to each other. The heat was oppressive, and Brendan’s shirt was soon damp with sweat. They travelled away from the underground mounds and toward a cliff face where they were forced to climb.

  “We’re almost at fir bolg territory,” Aneurin said, annoyingly capable of breathing normally despite the exertion. “Be ready at any moment.”

  And then they reached the peak, and it was as though they had entered another land. Brendan gazed across the horizon at a sun-scorched plain that was pitted with holes. A strange rumbling sound seemed to attack from all sides.

  “What happened here?” Pól asked.

  “This was once a forest, but the fir bolg destroyed it,” Aneurin explained. “They say the First Trees gave life to the world, and if they die, we all die with them. That’s why we keep some where the giants can’t reach.”

  “Why have they done this?” Alyss whispered. “This desolation is disturbing.”

  “Not everything they do has a purpose.” Aneurin shrugged. “These creatures sleep restlessly, and that’s how the holes are made. They upset the earth as they toss and turn. Even if they didn’t want to, they’d destroy by accident. It’s quiet now. This is the time of day they like to slumber, but they’re easily disturbed.”

  And it was then that Brendan realised that inside the holes, giant men slept, their limbs sinking into the dirt as though they were formed from the earth. The sound of their snores filtered across the air like thunder. They were massive, long armed and limbed, and those limbs were as thick as tree trunks. Brendan spotted at least two dozen of the creatures, all fast asleep in the holes they had destroyed the land to make. But then one of them rolled over, and piles of dirt flew up into the air. The giant disappeared into his hole. They really were large enough to ruin the earth in their sleep.

  Aneurin held his finger to his lips then beckoned them to follow him. The rest of his people took a different route. Aneurin pointed, and Brendan followed the gesture to see a single patch of unspoiled nature on top of the odd-shaped mountain. He was glad he wasn’t the one climbing up there to get the trees. He shuddered as he took another look at the fir bolg. There were no good jobs on this mission. He just hoped Eira managed to signal to the ship in time. If they missed their chance, they likely wouldn’t get another.

  They crept down a winding path cut into the mountain. It was too narrow and steep for the fir bolg to climb, but Brendan didn’t fancy his own chances at getting back up there either.

  Some stones skittered down the mountain from the other group, and the nearest fir bolg stirred.

  “Hurry,” Aneurin urged under his breath.

  They moved more quickly, but Pól slipped and skidded a few feet as he desperately struggled to stop his fall. Aneurin grabbed his collar and held on tight as Pól found his grip again. As Brendan followed, he noticed blood stains on the rock.

  At the foot of the mountain, he took Pól’s hands to inspect the damage. “You’ve torn them to ribbons.”

  “I can still hold my sword,” Pól said resolutely.

  “Not like this you can’t.” Brendan tore strips off his own shirt and wrapped them around his soldier’s hands. “We’ll clean the wounds when we get back. I’d rather we make it home with all of our limbs intact.”

  That earned him a wry smile from Pól.

  Aneurin led them toward the giants, ready to make noise if any noticed the removal of the trees. Brendan’s confidence grew. The giants were practically unconscious. If luck remained on their side, they would make it back to the ship without any encounters.

  Alyss slipped and hissed out a swear word. The closest giants all turned over, flinging earth into the air. It rained down on their shoulders, even at a distance of close to a mile away. Brendan’s shoulders tightened with tension. On the ground, the fir bolg looked l
arger than ever.

  They were quietly moving past the restless one when a single large, protruding eye opened and focused on them. They froze to the spot, but the eye closed again. A shudder ran through Brendan. The eye was as large as a human head and eerily familiar.

  “Run,” Aneurin whispered, racing off without hesitation. Brendan followed, his soldiers hot on his heels.

  They ran past the slumbering fir bolg and onto a sandy area before slowing. Aneurin cast a glance over his shoulder. “No.”

  The restless fir bolg was on his feet, his gaze on the mountaintop. Two of the daoine sídhe were swiftly removing a tree in plain view. The giant released a sound of rage that woke the closest of his kin. Some rolled over and went back to sleep, but half a dozen rose to see what the commotion was about.

  “We have to distract them,” Aneurin said, already moving toward the giants.

  Bran held him back. “With noise, right? I doubt we want to get too close.”

  “My daughter’s out there,” Aneurin snapped.

  Alyss shot an arrow at the giants. A couple noticed, and when Brendan shouted, they turned their attention away from the daoine sídhe and toward the group on the ground.

  “Wait until the chase begins,” Aneurin murmured, his entire body taut with tension.

  Brendan watched as a couple of giants lumbered in their direction, but it wasn’t until Alyss shot another arrow that the first giant roared and ran toward them. Three of the other giants followed.

  “Now it’s time to run,” Aneurin called out, sprinting off.

  They ran for an hour, weaving through a damaged field and coming out onto a sandy area, the pounding of the giant’s footsteps never letting up. But the sounds appeared to diminish. Brendan looked behind him.

  “Only one left,” he called out, but if he wasn’t mistaken, the giant was catching up. His group had tired, but the giant hadn’t grown winded yet.

  “Yes,” Aneurin replied. “But this one is focused on catching us. Even if it broke its leg, it would still follow.”

  But the steps ended abruptly, and Brendan let out a sigh of relief, his lungs fit to burst. And that was when the first stone flew through the air.

  “Don’t run in a straight line,” Aneurin called out. “Don’t make yourself an easy target!”

  They raced on, farther onto the sand, until they could see the beach in the distance. The ship was out there. Brendan was sure he caught a glimpse of her. The giant slowed on the sand, and Brendan’s heart rate eased a little, but the second rock hit Alyss in the legs.

  She collapsed into the sand, her leg crushed under the weight, and her face pale.

  “Keep running!” Aneurin shouted.

  “I can’t leave her,” Brendan said. “I can’t let him take her.”

  “He’s in a frenzy,” Aneurin argued. “You won’t win in a fight against him, no matter what name you give your sword.”

  Brendan stood over Alyss with the sword unsheathed, and the giant man stopped looking for rocks to throw. The creature ran at them, heading straight for Brendan. One of Bran’s daggers flew through the air and struck the creature right in the eye. The fir bolg howled with pain and tried to grip the dagger, spinning in a circle in his attempt to catch something so small with his over-sized hands.

  “Quickly,” Brendan said. “Help me get this rock off her.”

  The others, including Aneurin, gathered to push the rock off Alyss. Sweat beads ran down her face.

  “That was a great throw,” Brendan told Bran who grinned then shoved harder at the rock.

  The stone finally moved, and Alyss was free, but her leg was broken. It was obvious to everyone.

  “Just leave me,” she wept. “I’m the one who woke them.”

  “I’ll carry you,” Brendan insisted.

  “Wait, look!” Bran cried.

  The giant had gotten frustrated with the dagger. He dug his fingers into his eye socket instead, yanking free his own eyeball in the process. He screamed with rage and flung the eye away, blood pouring from his empty socket. He came at them again, this time ferocious in his pain. His flabby stomach shook as he ran, and Brendan resisted a natural urge to run. But then he glanced at his injured soldier, and a rage burned through him, too. They had come too far to fail now.

  Brendan stood his ground, the sword of victory gleaming in the incessant sunlight. The fir bolg was filthy, his massive dirt-encrusted hands holding an axe that he waved in the air as he ran. His arms were thick with muscle, and Brendan could feel the earth shake with every footstep, but still, he held his ground. His own battle rage came over him, the one that made it hard to focus on anything but his prey. He couldn’t allow himself to be hunted. His blood burned to fight back.

  “Get her out of here,” he ordered Aneurin. “The others will help you. I’ll hold this creature off as long as I can. Get them to the ship.”

  But Bran refused to leave his side.

  “Bran, leave,” Brendan commanded. “Cara will bring me back from the dead and kill me again if I let anything happen to you.”

  Bran gave him a steady look. “I’m your bodyguard. This is my place.”

  There was no time to argue. The fir bolg had reached them. He struck out with his axe, but Brendan met the strike with the sword. The metal clanged, but the sword of victory gleamed brighter, and the axe broke. Furious, the creature dropped the remains and swung out his large fist. His strike connected with Brendan’s shoulder, deadening it, and the king almost dropped the sword.

  The creature came back for seconds, but Bran distracted him with a dagger to the back of the neck. The fir bolg spun awkwardly, trying his best to free himself from the weapon. When he couldn’t reach it, he howled and lunged for Bran who skipped behind the creature’s back again.

  Brendan recovered and swung his sword. He connected with a fleshy thigh, but the creature didn’t seem to notice, too concerned with something in the distance. Brendan pulled his sword free just in time. The creature took off in a run, right toward Aneurin and the Green Court soldiers.

  “Watch out!” Brendan roared, fired up with bloodlust. He raced after the fir bolg and slashed at its thick hairy legs to try to slow it down. The giant paid the king no mind. Bran barely kept up. Blood ran down the creature’s legs, but his strides were so long that he pulled out of their reach quicker than Brendan liked.

  Aneurin had heard Brendan’s warning shout and was trying to help carry Alyss out of the giant’s path, but the fir bolg paid them no attention as he passed them by.

  “The ship!” Pól cried out in alarm. “It sees the ship.”

  No! They couldn’t let anything destroy the ship.

  “We have to stop it,” Brendan said, reaching the others.

  “Go,” Alyss said. “Help the ship. Get on it. Make it home. The realm needs you.”

  “I’ll carry you,” he said.

  “I’ll show you a shortcut,” Aneurin said. “And then I’ll come back for her.”

  “Go,” she repeated, her eyes full of tears. “You’re the only royal with experience. They need you.”

  “She’s right,” Bran said.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Pól said. “I’m not as fast as you and Bran, and we can’t leave her here alone. I’ll keep her hidden until he comes back to help us.”

  “I’ll come back for you when the blight is over,” Brendan said.

  “Don’t,” Alyss said. “It’s too dangerous a journey to risk twice. We’ll survive here if we know we did everything we could to save home.”

  “A glamour,” Brendan said. “A glamour might fool the giant and give us time to—”

  “Don’t waste magic on us,” Pól said gruffly. “We’ll survive. You’ll need everything you have to make it home.”

  “You have magic?” Aneurin whispered in awe. “It exists in your land?”

  “It’s not infinite.” Brendan touched both of his soldiers on the shoulders. “Your names will be honoured,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

>   “We have to hurry,” Aneurin said. “Let’s go.”

  He gave them no more time for goodbyes.

  Brendan’s heart felt ripped to pieces as he left his soldiers behind. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  Pól and Alyss hid in a nearby cave while Aneurin led Brendan and Bran through a quicker path to the ship.

  “My daughter told me where she would be signalling,” he said. “And as soon as I find her, I’m leaving with her. I can’t risk her falling in the hands of the fir bolg.”

  “We understand,” Brendan said, panting as he ran. They climbed another cliff face, practically fell down a steep hill, and then raced across a valley. On higher ground, a fire burned.

  “That way!” Aneurin said. “I’ll leave you here to find my daughter. Keep running, and you’ll come out on the beach. The sand will slow down the giant, and you should come out ahead of him. If you don’t, you’ll miss the boat. Get on the ship as quickly as possible because there are rocks in that area that the giant can throw. The trees and Dafina should already be boarded. Good luck to both of you. We’ll take good care of the people left behind.”

  Brendan thanked Aneurin then sprinted away. If he had to, he would slow down the giant himself to give the ship enough time to get away.

  “You’ll go ahead,” he told Bran. “Get on the ship and make sure the trees get back safely.”

  “You heard the others,” Bran panted as they sprinted through the valley. “There’s no way to avoid it. You have to come back. The Green Court will disappear without you.”

  “Cara will take care of everyone.”

  They ran faster, hearing the giant nearby.

  “Cara is what the Darksiders need. You are what the Green Court needs. You came back from the Fade twice for a reason. Do you think the gods would allow that if you weren’t supposed to be king?”

  Sometimes, he wondered. And he didn’t want to stay. He wanted to get back, to see Cara and Drake and all of the people who had enriched his life since he first returned. He had changed because of them all, become a better man, and he just couldn’t give up now. Not when there was still so much to do. The thought of leaving either Cara or Drake at the hands of some of the remorseless fae back home made up his mind for him. He had to return.