They have to pitch the icy spears from the mouth of the cave, after they are pulled from the upper lip, so, while a few fly by Em and I, it is hard to tell what they hit, until I hear wood splinter between the sound of much of what we launch at them hitting dead-on. Sweeping around behind the line of men but far in front of the trebuchets, I can see that each giant is burning somewhere, five left, and they struggle to keep the men climbing up them off of their flesh at the same time many more surround them from below. And, for the few men that I can see get tossed, swatted, or stepped on, there are always more to land a blow, anywhere on the beasts' bodies, so, when I see the next of the five giants struggle to stand up as a man stands proud on its back, piercing its neck with a sword long enough to cut into the throat, Em and I move forward to help however we can while the snow around the giant is painted with red.
I can see a few of our dead or wounded as we pass, but, with our numbers, a few does not mean we have lost, when there are more than enough of us to swarm each giant. Once we are close to the one that is almost on the ground already, spewing blood from its neck and shoulder as it goes down to one knee, I spot one of our giants growing close too, and, from behind, it is impossible to tell if it is Gorm or not until I see his axe slam into the creatures neck, and disappear beneath the flesh. As Gorm gets bathed in red too, more shouts fill the air, now that we know two are dead, and I loop us around to look for the next giant that seems close to death, or at least is getting swarmed.
I find my answer in the one that is filled with the most bolts, as Fern and the four others with ballistae fire bolt after bolt, so quick that the giant has little room to move or defend itself between each. Sure that they know how to not miss, I bring Em close enough to leave a gash in this giant's leg, deep enough that it'll have to flinch at least, and, while it does, they fill it with more bolts. Em and I duck under an arm, and someone else lets out a scream from where it lands, along with the cry of a horse. It is hard to look back as we move between old swords and behind the line of our giants, firing away still, but I think one of the other five riders was either following me, or close by. But, even if he lies dead, I do not hurt for his loss when his killer is next. So many bolts fill the giant's face that Fern must be using it to practice his aim, and the giant can barely stand upright, until one hits it square in the eye and sends the beast onto its back at last.
As a couple of men make sure that one is dead, only three more are left, and, between Gorm and the men surrounding him stuck waddling through the snow as they move closer to another giant and Fern just getting done with the last one, these last two rampage with little to stop them, making short work of the few men that try to approach each. So, knowing that Fern and Gorm could handle one beast on their own, I join the other few riders I can see as they kick up the snow. With five of us left, thankfully, that is enough for us to do what we once did before. I lead the way when I pass between the legs of the first of the two giants, firing my grapple around an ankle that is bigger than even Gorm, and I pray that the other riders do the same, once the hook of my grapple digs into the creature's flesh after looping around it once or twice.
Thankfully, what little pain that causes is enough to catch the giant's attention, and, when he bends down to grab the rope from my grapple to either pull me or just my arm closer, the other riders grapple it too during the distraction. With the way its back is bent, they all come from behind and shoot their grapples over the beast's shoulders, where they catch chest fat on the other side and dig in so well that, when the four of them start to ride in the direction opposite of me and pull the giant backwards, I only have to move away a few feet before it starts to topple, hitting the ground so hard that I'm sure Gorm and all of the others can feel the quakes in the ground. Though, we are not done yet.
All we have done is knock the giant over, and we all pull our grapples back into our arms the moment we see the creature grabbing someone else's rope from the ground, too late for him to save himself or for us to help. The rider is ripped off of his horse with a scream, and the sounds of his cries only end once his body hits the ground, muffled by the breaking of bones. Our horses have handled so much already, but, for whatever reason, that noise and the groaning of the giant sends them berserk, as if they expect the same to happen to their bones too. Two of the riders are taken into another direction, when their horses refuse to listen, but my horse and one other whinny and rise into the air. With the weight of my sword, I fall backwards and take Em with me, but I watch as the other rider handles himself and gets the animal back under control, only for all of the commotion to bring the giant's attention to him.
That gives me enough time to roll off of Em once we hit the ground, and to make sure that she has not landed on her sword or been hurt from the fall, and, though she seems shaken, she nods at me when I stand up and try to help her up. But, before I can say anything to her, the fight the other rider is putting up distracts me as I give her my hand. The man rides around the giant, away from us, but there is a limited amount of places to go even with the speed of a horse when the giant's reach seems infinite, so, as she takes my hand, I listen to his screams once he gets grabbed from the horse in one pluck, like picking up a frog from the ground. And, just like a child might, the giant squeezes most of the life out of the man. Seeing that, there is but one word to say to Em.
"Run!"
With her sword in hand, she does so without questioning me, or turning back to see if I am following her, and I wait until I see that she is safely heading in the direction of Gorm, who has his fight under control, if a brief glance is enough to judge, before I turn away from her and head towards the giant, while I finally pull my own sword free for the first time since the fight began. My advance could only be fast enough when the man had already fallen into death's hand, literally, but, still, he screams as the giant draws him closer, careless to the life leaving his palms and dripping down to paint the snow with red. So, when the man stops screaming right before the beast chews him in two with teeth as sharp as my sword, right in front of my eyes, I can only pray that he found his death in the giant's hand, rather than its mouth, and not let myself get sick at the sight of his two halves hitting the ground.
For a few moments, it feels like the entire world is in front of me, as the giant and I stare into each other's eyes, and, while combat still goes on behind me, I am able to block the sound out, if only briefly. The last two giants we fought were disturbing, but there is something about this one that is worse. To begin with, it looks like it has been eating too much of what it should not, as it has already demonstrated, because its body sags at every edge, where the flesh is blue and what hair it has is sad. Like the patchiness of an old man's head, that is the creature's entire fur, wherever it decided to and not to sprout hair, and that leaves a view of the flesh that is so blue, maybe because it too is cold to the bone or because that is just the way it is, no different from the others we have already killed this day. And, when the giant lets out a single grumble, as if one bite of a human being was not enough, I try not to think about how cold I truly am, and how I am alone, for I know both are true, while the snow up to my shins already slows me too.
I am unsure about what to do, with the distance between us meaning I cannot rush it, and I cannot grapple it either, when there is nothing else to draw attention away, so I am actually thankful when the beast does what one did to kill my friend weeks ago, and several men today. The hand already covered in blood and squished guts reaches out to me, terribly slow, so, when it is about to grab me, I only need to thrust to avoid the fate others have met before me. My sword is so large that, once the beast tries to grip the air, the pain is so great it retreats, pulling the hand back as I too pull my blade out of the hand, painting more of the snow with red and getting some on myself too.
It gets in my eyes, so before I do anything else, I wipe up from my eyes, to my forehead, then wet my hair with the red, and finally feel how frozen it is already, so, feeling fear sinking in and sta
rting to lose my hope, I rush forward instead.
The giant is a fool, as it carefully examines the wound I have left in its palm, and, without notice, I find myself between the creature's legs, ready to hack away at whatever seems most appealing, only to be met with a memory I would rather not have right now. The thickness of the giant's legs reminds me of the few times my father taught me how to fell a tree, until it never happened again, so with the rage I feel when I think about how we spent so little time together, I chop into the back of the right leg, and am met with a better response than any tree would ever give. The giant starts to fall backwards immediately, for a second time, and, besides the grunts it lets out when its leg slides free of its foot, it lets out several more when old weapons of war pierce its back. Some come out the front, bubbling blood out through the belly of the beast, and, when I once would have waited for my father's approval, I tell myself that I have done good so far today, climb up and over the giant's groin, and, as soon as I have a balance on its stomach, I point my sword outwards and rush forward, one boot after the other, rippling lard and growing pools of blood, until I pierce several necks of fat and keep pushing until I feel no more heat from the giant's mouth, as awful as it smells.
The whole length of my sword is inside of the skull, so, at the point that all movement ceases, I know I have pierced the brain, or what little there is inside of the giant's head. And, when it is truly dead, all is quiet for a few moments, or quiet enough with the sound of the wind blowing still, and, because I am able to hear just that, I am not sure if I have become distracted once more or if this giant was the last to fall. So, when I see a number of silhouettes approaching through the shifting snow, I assume the former, and the cheering that follows confirms my suspicions. Gorm, Yemi, Em, Fern, and all the other faces I have come to know well enough approach me, standing on top of the fallen giant as I am, and let out the same shouts they once did, but no longer because the battle is beginning. Instead, the battlefield behind them is quiet, and, off in the distance, I can see that most of our siege weapons are upright. That gives me greater hope for how successful we have been, even though they stopped firing in our direction some time ago when our numbers got mixed too much among those of the giants, but all of that is unimportant with the way many of them stare at me, if they are not shouting into the air or embracing one another already. So, as I jump down from the beast into some more red snow, I try not to question if they are cheering more for me, or for the fact that we have won the day, when the thought of so much attention is almost enough to stop me in my tracks. Yet, I am glad when Em comes forward to hug me in front of everyone, just so I can hide my face—red from blood and too much attention—in her shoulder as soon as I have put my sword back in my sheath.
After some time, I look up, happy to know that they all managed to end the other two giants before I finished mine because that makes me question my insane decision less, when help was only so far away. Em has not beaten me yet for deceiving her either, so I take that as a good sign too, along with the smile on her father's face once the two of us end our moment of affection and approach the rest of the group. We still have so many men that they cannot be counted behind the first row or two, especially when five giants, with only one missing, stand at the front, so I think it is safe to say we only lost a couple dozen men, if even that. That is still many to bury and mourn, but there are enough of us to move on, if there are more fights to come after this one didn't prove too difficult. I too am happy that the one giant missing is not Gorm or Fern, but I know there is still pain that one of their friends must have fallen somehow, after I last saw Fern and his brothers-in-arms taking down a giant on their own. Though, sooner than any more celebration can be done, Gorm has words to share with the few of us that can hear.
"We are not done, yet."
He says it loud enough to be heard through the happiness behind him, but not so loud that the rest can hear. Only myself, Em, Yemi, Fern, and the three men that still follow him hear, despite the looks on their faces and how little they listen telling me that they already know what Gorm is about to say, as long as they have lived in these lands.
"There should be another."
This only comes as a surprise to Yemi, Em, and I, so it is only our expressions that change, for better or worse. And, while I have too many thoughts to share, Em asks the one that matters most.
"Where is it, then?"
I only have to glance at our surroundings to guess where it might be, deep inside the cave beside us that is large enough and so dark that many more giants could hide inside of it, and Gorm answers that as he points in that direction and offers a few thoughts.
"The worst still lies ahead, but that cave is not safe to take an entire army. That is why only ten of us will go."
With those of us he is speaking to, we are already eight strong, so we only need two more to meet the number he demands. That still leaves the rest of the men with nowhere to go, or at least nothing to do with themselves, and, as well as so few of us have taken on so many of these beasts, I would not fear one more if it were not for Gorm's mention that the worst still lies ahead. Yet, there is little time to think about what that entails when Gorm turns to address the rest of the men, and finally tell them what is going on.
"LISTEN UP! The day is not done yet, but I ask that the rest of you fall back to our siege line and wait for another attack to come! You will know it when you see it."
There is no better place for them than among our archers and the structures and men that Newt has brought to this valley, but I am surprised how quickly they all gather themselves and what is left of those around them, and head back without question. I still have many, yet, with everything that has happened so far, I now trust Gorm's judgement enough to keep quiet, and even smile when he picks the two lucky souls from the rest of the group so well it cannot be random.
I have seen the two men many times around the camp, and they are the biggest out of any of us, but for Gorm, without being giants. One is pale and hairy, the other bald and burnt from the sun we have not seen clearly in so long, but both of them, together, make me feel a little safer for what's about to come. And, after Gorm has waited for the rest of our men to rejoin the line we started upon, he moves in the direction of the cave, and just expects that we follow. For the man to bring his daughter, I have more hope that he would not drag us into something so dangerous, but the trek to just the mouth of the cave gives me too much time to think, as large as this valley is. And, once at the lip, I do not even need to see inside to get an understanding of what lies ahead. The smell, even with how numb my nostrils are, is worse even than the giant burning up back at the wall.
It is like that smell but worse. It is like something big lies rotting inside, mixed with the smell of a giant's shit, piss, and whatever pieces of some poor animal didn't make it into their mouths, and, when Gorm takes a single torch out from under his cloak of fur, it is just enough to light our way as we go. The men from his past life walk in front of him or alongside him, and the rest of us, from his current life, hide behind them all. I had no doubt the caves would be massive, if so many giants lived in here, but it is more disturbing when, no matter how far we walk, we do not see anything but the rock and rot we step upon. No walls, no ceilings, and no sign of any but for the unknown drips or droppings that come from above, every so often, so all we have to watch out for is what lies on the ground.
All of my guesses were right, but it was not everything. Beyond the piss, shit, and bones of creatures our size or smaller, bones of other giants, bits of flesh, and whole body parts lie strewn about, like the giants have been dying in here, or they have been so hungry they've been killing each other to eat. It all is so disturbing it hardly makes sense, especially when a liquid of so many colors is frozen beneath our boots, and none of it starts to make sense until we see the foot of someone, or something else.
Most of us have no idea what we are looking at initially, with how easily it could be mistaken for a rock
or just another lump of flesh, but, when one of our giants puts his hand up and demands that we all stop as Gorm passes him the torch, it all comes together. The foot is so large that it can only belong to a giant as large as the first we fought, so tall it easily pierces the clouds, and, as silently as we can, we follow the foot along, up a leg, past a crotch, in front of a chest, and then stop in front of its face, ugly, blue, swollen from the cold and sagging to the side it lies upon. We have found the last giant, the one where the worst still lies ahead, and I understand why Gorm only wanted so many of us in here.
As we all look at its face, it is impossible to tell if the creature is dead or in a deep slumber, when our small presence could never bother it, but, with how so much more rots near it, I'd think it would still be alive. And, as unsure as I am of what to do next, I can only be thankful we did not wake the beast with our initial attack, or the sound of us slaying its brethren, children, I don't really know. There is so much age to the giant's face I would not be surprised if this one is deaf and has been alive since the origins of Gorm's home. Maybe they all descend from it too, as little as I have thought about how they came to be prior to this, and, watching how Gorm examines it, I'd be led to believe this creature is the answer to everything, the answer to the other giants, the answer to Gorm's people, the reason they had to build their city with such high walls that would still never be enough. And, while I think more about how even those walls could not stop this monster, I look towards the light still seeping in from the entrance, before Gorm does something that gets all of us and every living being in these lands killed. I can only be thankful that, before that happens, he offers one word.
No Name for the Free Page 19
