The King's Gold: (The King's Gold Saga Book 1)

by Jenner, M

  “He’s the damn guide, and he works for us! He should be here and I should be babysitting!” Ty shouted back, dragging a corpse by the arm.

  “He’s our guide, not our slave – now come help. Grab this big one with me.” Kern and Ty dragged the dead orc off to the side of the road and into the bushes, lightly covering it with leaves.

  “Well, whatever he is, he should be helping,” Ty said truculently. “And I am not digging any holes.”

  “No one’s asking you to!” Kern snapped, rolling the log Nuran had been tied to into the bushes.

  “And furthermore, he should be rolling his own log!” Ty continued.

  “Listen to me, Ty: He has been beaten, his party are all dead, and he has been tied to that log for gods know how long. The least we can do is roll a bloody log into a bush and offer him some rabbit stew!” Kern spat back.

  “Why don’t we just offer dinner to every waif and –”

  “Shut it! Enough,” Galandrik said, stepping in between them. The bickering stopped and there was a tense silence.

  Once the bodies were all off the track and covered, they all walked back to camp and sat talking around the fire. Nuran was part of a group of humans fighting the orcs to the east – not for the King’s army, but for simple pleasure… and, of course, riches. After hungrily gulping down the last of the rabbit stew, Nuran quickly fell asleep; Solomon covered him with a spare blanket.

  “Whose turn for watch?” Galandrik asked.

  “Whoever’s turn it is, they’ll need to keep a close eye on our new friend,” Ty said suspiciously. “Personally I don’t like sleeping this close to strangers.”

  “I’ll take it, then; I’m not exactly tired now anyway,” Solomon interrupted. They all agreed and bedded down for the rest of the night; the crash after the adrenaline rush combined with the warmth of the campfire left them all feeling sleepier than they would have expected.

  Galandrik looked at his axe in wonder, smiling with the memory of the way it had cut through bone and flesh. He cradled it close to his chest, and soon drifted into a satisfied slumber.

  Just before they fell asleep, Ty nudged Kern with his foot, and muttered, “Thanks for that… thing… earlier.”

  “Go to sleep, fool. You would have done the same,” Kern replied.

  The group was soon silent and sleeping, and Solomon kept an uneventful watch.

  Chapter Five: The Giant on the Slope

  The next morning they were awakened by the smell of eggs and bacon sizzling in an iron pan. Solomon had been busy cooking. They all ate heartily, Nuran more than the rest. After breakfast they broke camp, tidying away their bedrolls and stowing the cooking gear in their saddlebags. Nuran was dressed in his rather dirty plate armour and now looked like a paladin, Ty thought; a dirty one, perhaps, but a paladin all the same. The crest on his cloak was the emblem of the group Truelight, a renegade group of paladins who had broken away from royal duties many years ago.

  “Solomon, why didn’t you wake me for my watch? And what was that blue flame thing you done yesterday against the orcs?” Ty asked as he saddled his Warmblood mount.

  “I told you, I wasn’t tired. The ‘blue flame thing’ was just an offensive staff spell, a basic lightning spell, that’s all,” Solomon replied, trying to play down his magic skills.

  “Is there such a thing as just a basic spell?” Ty said, raising an eyebrow. “Tell that to those orcs you fried,” he added with a chuckle.

  “So, Nuran the paladin, what are you going to do now?” Kern asked, picking up his bedroll.

  “Well, to be honest, I have no plans,” the paladin replied. “My group all perished; as I am still in your debt, perhaps I can travel with you, sir? My sword is yours if you will kindly allow it,” he offered.

  Kern looked at Ty and Galandrik; both seemed happy enough to allow the paladin into the group. “If there are no objections,” Kern said as he mounted his horse, “we shall see how it goes, paladin. You can ride with Solomon.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Nuran answered, grinning from ear to ear and twisting his moustache. Kern smiled privately; this was an enthusiastic reaction indeed for a member of an organization known far and wide for its courteousness, formality, and devotion to matters of faith.

  Nuran mounted up with Solomon, and the party set off back down the road between Raith and Praise. From here, the city was only one day’s ride away; if they kept up a good pace they could probably get there before dark. Soon they were level with Deaths Wood to their right.

  It was easy to see how the forest had gotten its name. The uninviting trees looked as though they had died years ago, yet somehow retained their greenery. Shadows seemed to move among them, like people darting about playing hide-and-seek. Ty often thought he could see red eyes staring out through the trees. They kept a fair distance from the wood as they carried on towards Praise.

  After a few hours’ ride and one more food stop – to quiet Galandrik’s constant moaning about his hunger - they finally passed beyond the straggling southern edge of Deaths Wood. Although none of them remarked on it, the mood of the group was noticeably lighter.

  Praise was nearly in sight, about an hour’s ride away. It wasn’t a massive town, and didn’t have much of a militia. The town was mostly used as a stop-off point between Raith and the trading towns to the south.

  “Where were the orcs taking you, Nuran?” Solomon asked, glancing over his shoulder at the paladin.

  “I don’t know – I couldn’t understand a word they said, but wherever it was I don’t think it would have been good for me to be there. I think I would be in a massive stewing pot by now.” They both laughed.

  Suddenly Galandrik drew back on his horse’s reins, coming to an abrupt stop. “Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that smoke rising from the town?”

  The party stopped and stared. Thick black smoke rose in the distance, swirling into the clouds.

  “Quick – we’d better ride!” Kern lurched into a fast gallop towards Praise, followed closely by the others, with Solomon and Nuran lagging slightly behind. As they drew closer to the town they could now hear a great commotion, and could see that the smoke was indeed coming from Praise. Kern kicked his horse into a gallop and rode towards the town.

  As they reached the main gates of the town they could see the townsfolk rushing about in all directions. Two people broke from the tumult and came running out towards them. The first man shouted, “Please help us, a hill giant is tearing up the town! You must help us, please!” But the second man shouted, “Just turn and run – you’ll never stop it!” The two men ran on past the mounted party.

  Entering the town, they could see a slope leading down to the River Narv where the town’s mill was. A hill giant stood in the pathway, wildly swinging a massive club. Six of the town’s guards were battling him, trying to get close enough to stab the giant while avoiding his weapon. The dead lay all around; most appeared to be town guards, crushed by the giant’s huge club.

  Kern dismounted from Trophy and quickly pulled his bow from his back. Galandrik and Ty both jumped down.

  “Is this really our fight?” Ty shouted.

  “Please yourself,” Kern replied, running towards the giant and releasing two arrows as he went. Nuran and Solomon joined them on the slope and dismounted.

  “This should be fun,” Nuran said, drawing his long-sword and kite shield.

  Galandrik followed Kern down the steep slope towards the giant. Kern fired another arrow as he ran but it had little effect, merely smashed against the giant’s leather amour then split into pieces. Kern let the bow slip from his shoulder and left it on the ground next to his quiver.

  Drawing his long-sword as he went, Kern ran directly towards the giant. The enormous creature smashed his club into another guard, sending him flying into the stone mill wall. The guard died instantly.

  Kern reached the giant and swung his sword. Using one enormous hand to parry the blow, the giant knocked the sword from Kern’s grasp. The sheer size a
nd power of the giant amazed Kern; the force of the parry was unbelievable. The giant swung his club towards Kern. With no time to react or defend himself, Kern braced for the impact. Just then Galandrik reached Kern’s side and swung his double-headed axe – not at the giant but at the club destined for Kern. The axe blocked the blow, embedding itself deep into the wooden weapon and sending impact shudders through dwarf and giant alike.

  Solomon extended his staff and released a lightning bolt towards the giant, but it just fizzled out on the giant’s armour, much as Kern’s arrow had done. Solomon started talking up another spell.

  The giant raised his club once more, the axe still embedded in it. Galandrik refused to let go of his weapon, and held tightly to the axe shaft as he was swung into the air – only to be shaken free and thrown several yards. He smashed into a wagon-wheel, losing consciousness instantly.

  Nuran reached the fight and raised his long-sword, slicing into the giant’s forearm. Blood gushed from the wound, but only seemed to anger the beast instead of actually hurting him. The giant brought his club down at Nuran; Nuran parried the blow with his shield, but the impact sent him flying backwards, his shield badly dented by the blow.

  Kern saw Galandrik’s axe come loose from the giant’s club when it struck Nuran’s shield. Dashing in quickly, Kern retrieved the axe from where it had fallen. Another guard ran in to attack the giant, but was swatted away like a rag doll.

  Watching the fight unfold from his vantage point upon the slope, Ty knew his daggers were useless. His gaze swept the mill yard, and he saw a builders’ wagon filled with rocks. It had apparently been abandoned, the team still in its traces, when the giant attacked. Ty thought for a second, then jumped up on the wagon’s seat.

  “Yah!” he shouted, snapping the reins. The horses turned – far more slowly than he would have liked – and headed toward the giant. When Ty reached the top of the slope he reined in the horses and jumped down, chocking the wheels with a fist-sized stone from the wagon. Then he released the horses from their bridles; he shouted and slapped their rumps, and the horses fled back into the town. As he quickly fastened the traces and reins to the tongue of the wagon, Ty shouted to Solomon. “Solomon, can you hold the giant?”

  “Yes, but…” Solomon started to ask.

  Ty jumped into the back of the wagon, saying, “No time to explain, just hold him, then release the stone from under that wheel.” He pointed down to the chocked stone.

  Solomon nodded and held his staff out, shouting “Webfuska bethola!” A burst of white flew towards the giant, covering the giant’s legs and the ground at his feet with a white sticky substance, like strands of a spider’s web.

  Just as Kern hefted Galandrik’s fallen great-axe, he saw the white goo fixing the giant to the earth. He swung the great-axe down upon the giant’s foot, and the giant screamed horribly as the blade of the axe sliced through his toes.

  Trapped by Solomon’s spell and unable to move his legs, in a blind rage the giant swung his club wildly. Luckily for Kern it struck his legs, and not his head – still, the blow was forceful enough to send him spinning. His world turned upside down, then he thudded to the ground, landing on his back. The wind was knocked out of him, his vision full of stars swirling all around.

  Nuran rose from where he had fallen and attacked again. The giant parried the blow, then swung his free arm, backhanding the paladin. Once again Nuran’s shield took most of the impact, but he still went flying face down into the dirt. Nuran was also seeing stars.

  The hill giant turned his attention back to Kern, who was still lying on his back struggling to get his breath. He grabbed his club with both hands and slowly raised it above his head, savouring Kern’s helplessness.

  Ty was standing on the seat on top of the cart full of stone. “Pull the stone out, quickly!” Ty shouted. Solomon wasted no time in knocking the stone away.

  Nothing happened.

  “Push it!” Ty screamed.

  Solomon ran to the back of the cart and placed his shoulder against it; placing his feet firmly into the dirt, he pushed with all his might.

  Nothing happened.

  Two fleeing townsfolk saw Solomon struggling and ran over to help. The three men heaved and strained together, and slowly the cart began to move. With the wheels creaking along at a snail’s pace, the men pushed for all they were worth, veins straining from their necks and temples.

  All at once, the wagon was over the top of the hill and rolling freely down, picking up speed as it went, the heavy load of rocks pushing it along. Soon it was flying down towards the hill giant. Solomon fell to the ground as he watched the wagon roll off at speed. Ty stood on the seat, desperately trying to keep the wagon on target. His arms aching with the strain of the reins, Ty saw the giant raise his club.

  Shaking his head to clear his vision, Nuran reached down and pulled a dagger from his boot. “Kern,” he shouted, and threw the weapon. Kern turned in time to see the dagger land on the grass, inches from his hand. Seizing it swiftly, he looked up at the giant.

  The hill giant was momentarily distracted by the noise he heard coming down the hill; he looked up in surprise at the oncoming cart. He tried to move but Solomon’s web-spell still held him tightly. Arms still holding his mighty club above his head, the giant stood transfixed, looking straight forward at the oncoming cart.

  Best chance, Kern thought, and launched the dagger up towards the giant. Not waiting to see where it hit, Kern rolled out of the way of the oncoming wagon before it rolled over him.

  Nuran’s dagger struck in the soft, unprotected spot right under the beast’s chin. The giant dropped his club behind him and reached for the dagger, trying desperately to pull it free.

  Ty saw the dagger strike the giant as he aimed the wagon, pulling on the reins with one last enormous heave. He jumped clear, landing on his shoulder, and rolled, ending up next to the still-dazed paladin. Ty quickly spun round, just in time to see the wagon strike the giant full on.

  The wagon shattered on impact; wood and rock flew in all directions. The giant was knocked backwards from the impact. But Solomon’s spell kept the giant’s legs fixed to the earth, and they snapped with a sickening crunch. After an instant of shocked silence, the giant began screaming loudly enough to be heard from the other end of Praise.

  Kern hunched down with his arms over his head. He heard the impact and felt its vibration; splinters of wood and chunks of rock rained down over him. Then it was quiet.

  Kern looked up cautiously, and saw the giant laying on his back, the white ends of bones sticking out from his broken legs. Springing quickly to his feet and shaking his head trying to clear the stars, Kern grabbed Galandrik’s great-axe. After a moment his vision regained its focus, and Kern jumped onto the giant’s chest, raising the weapon above his head

  The giant tried to scream and reached up for Kern, but it was over. Kern swung Galandrik’s great-axe, striking the beast square in the forehead and splitting the enormous skull in two. The giant lay still, blood and brains flowing from his skull.

  Kern stepped off and slumped to the ground.

  Ty got to his feet and held out a hand for Nuran, which the paladin gratefully accepted. Ty heaved him to his feet as Galandrik pulled himself out of the broken wheel and sat up with his back against the wagon. The dwarf removed his helmet and felt an egg-shaped lump on his temple, blood trickling down his face.

  Kern struggled to his feet and walked over to the dwarf, kneeling down beside him.

  “Thank you, Galandrik, you saved my life.” Kern looked at the dwarf’s injured head. “Come on, friend. Let’s see if we can’t get that head patched up in the town,” he said, helping Galandrik to his feet and steadying the dazed dwarf.

  Kern held the dwarf’s arm as they made their way over to the dead giant and looked down at the beast. Ty and Nuran came up next to them. Solomon slipped quietly into the group and stared at the monster.

  “Big fellow, wasn’t he?” Ty remarked.

  “Fa
r too big for my liking,” Nuran answered.

  Galandrik pulled his arm away from Kern and walked to the giant’s head. Reaching out, he grabbed his axe and ripped it free, then wiped the blood and brain matter on the giant’s bearskin jerkin.

  Ty walked around to the other side and picked up Nuran’s dagger, which had fallen to the ground when Kern had struck the fatal blow. As he bent to retrieve the dagger, he noticed a leather thong with a large golden medallion hanging around the giant’s neck. Ty surreptitiously cut the strap and slipped it into his sleeve, then turned and handed Nuran his dagger.

  By now, some of the townsfolk were slowly trickling back to the slope. The news was spreading that the beast was dead. The townspeople found stretchers for the injured guards and raced them back up the hill to the houses of healing in the town. The dead were simply covered where they lay.

  A commotion began at the top of the hill; the companions turned to see a massive gathering of townsfolk coming towards them, cheering and celebrating the party’s gallant victory. The cheering mob gathered all around the party, and a group of men hoisted Kern up onto their shoulders and carried him up the slope, cheering and shouting all the way. Throngs were gathered around the giant, kids probing with sticks and adults staring at the fallen beast in shock and revulsion.

  Other townspeople beckoned the rest of the party to join them; one woman grabbed Galandrik by the hand and pulled him up the hill towards the town, and moments later Solomon and Nuran found themselves in the same position. Soon they were up the hill and being led through the town, cheers ringing out around them as they went. The celebrations reminded Galandrik of the solar moon carnivals he had enjoyed in Grimnoss when he was younger.

  The party made their way through the town, surrounded by the cheering crowd carrying Kern aloft – all except Ty. He trailed behind, alone, at the ragged end of the crowd. No one led him along, he thought; no one lifted him up, no pretty girl held his hand and smiled. Had everyone missed his heroic cart ride? Did they not see the broken legs, snapped by the force of the impact, rendering the giant helpless? Had they not seen his jump from the moving cart at the last possible second? No, all they’d seen was Kern’s kill, Ty thought, and the anger burnt inside him. He felt sick.