The Tuskan Prince (The Caine Mercer Series Book 2)

by Cale Madison

  “No, no, no...hang on, hang on..” I cried out, maneuvering myself back down to my friend. The baron held a tight grip onto the nook but I could see that he was beginning to lose it. Sweat ran down my neck and poured across my chest as I strained to reach him in time, taking each step carefully, as to not make a similar mistake.

  “I’m coming for you, just hold on!” I reassured him through tired breaths.

  “I can’t...hold on! Caine!” he cried out.

  I found a tight crevice in the mountain, regained my failing balance and then wedged the elven sword inside. This provided a sturdy point of stability that allowed me to lean down and, with one arm, grab Skalige’s trembling wrist. I pulled him up to proper footing on an overhanging crag beside me. We both breathed heavily, appreciating each moment alive.

  “Don’t...” Skalige rasped, still breathing erratically, “don’t...fucking...climb that fast...anymore...”

  “Loud and clear, brother.” I replied, patting him on his sweaty back.

  Just as we were about to continue, we overheard a faint rumble from the valley below. The roaring wind died for just a few seconds, allowing me to listen closely. I could hear a thunderous noise, the same tremoring note that had awoken us this morning. I shot one look at Skalige, who appeared to have heard it too. We began to ascend the mountain with heightened ferocity. Occasionally, I peered down to spot a titanous body moving through the hills in a straight-path towards us. The giant was returning from Avenwood.

  “I don’t think he’s coming. See how he’s walking towards the lower foothills. What’s he looking for? He keeps stooping low to look at something.” I reported to Skalige after I noticed the giant hovering over a separate chain of hills.

  “I don’t give a shit, Caine! CLIMB!” he shouted back. I guess that I could understand his alarm, given that he just nearly fell without a giant’s intervention.

  We reached the cliff’s ledge within a matter of minutes, feeling the vibrations and quakes echoing through the hills. After Skalige had joined me on the safety of the mountain peak, we could then plan our next move. I watched in terror as the giant slowly climbing towards us with an old, metal cage tucked away in his belt.

  “He has a different cage! Different than the one he had yesterday!” I shouted as we sprinted into the mouth of the cave, “He must leave the others in here!”

  We hurried into the massive opening in the mountain-side. The tremors from the giant’s footsteps became increasingly louder outside. I took in my surroundings, noticing every detail as to find something for our advantage: six or seven prison cells sat along the cavern wall, each containing half-eaten carcasses, dozens of stalagmites covered in strange plants and a towering pile of cleaned bones in the other corner beside a separate collection of junk and weapons.

  That’s it! The weapons cache!

  “The weapon pile...hurry!” Skalige exclaimed and led me towards it. After a few seconds of digging in an attempt to bury ourselves inside of the pile, I shouted across to him, “Find somewhere else!”

  “The carcasses, Caine!”

  I leapt into the stinking pile of bones and rotted flesh, pulling the human skeletons over me to provide a safe barrier between me and the world beyond. I could hear Skalige also diving into the pile behind me, covering the top to conceal us. We were both overcame by a foul stench of spoiled meat and chewed bones. Femurs and spinal columns crumbled onto the cavern floor just as the monster arrived. Small bones crunched beneath my boots as I hunkered down to find a comfortable position.

  The giant’s head appeared outside of the cave’s mouth. The only visible details of a face that we could see from beneath the mask were two massive, bloodshot eyes, fixating on any signs of movement in its dwelling. With every breath, a powerful, almost unidentifiable odor would blast through the cave. I then overheard a voice erupting from one of the prison cages across from us: a knight’s errant from Ataman, still wearing his silver armor and bearing the Crest of the Wolf, had begun to fearlessly shout at the monster.

  “Come on, you great, ugly behemoth! I’m ready for ye!”

  Skalige stayed deathly silent behind me, watching over my shoulder as the giant reached inside to grab the errant’s cage. I stared into monsters eyes, noticing that its large pupils hardly moved. As it exhaled, the cloth on its face would billow, allowing gales of wind to disperse throughout the cave.

  “Fucking beast...you twisted, abomination of the Gods, you...” the knight continued to shout, as if throwing insults would help his cause at all, “I’ll gouge out your eyes, monster! For my countrymen and my lovely Matlida! Come in here and face your reckoning!”

  The giant listened for a few brief seconds before batting the errant’s cell over as if it were flipping a bird cage. The knight tumbled out, dazed from the sudden jolt. His armor rattled and his helmet became twisted to one side. Once he had fixed his helm and regained his balance, the man crossed over to the weapon’s heap to dig out a spear and a claymore before returning to face the monster.

  “For the Goddess, Opheria, for my lovely Matilda, for Ataman and my brothers at arms, I tell you this, beast: we will end this, here and now! Vala dorne!” the errant declared, valiantly. He thrusted his pike into the air and began to beat his chestplate with a proud fist, shouting, “I am the one they call the Blue Knight! Have at you, fiend!”

  “Maybe he has a chance?” Skalige whispered, “He seems confident enough.”

  We watched in awe as the Blue Knight hurled his first spear at the eye of the giant, scarcely missing his mark. The sharpened end stuck into its neck, barely affecting the titan at all as it swatted the weapon away with ease. The monster then lunged into the cave, no longer amused by the knight’s antics and snatched him from where he stood. The Blue Knight desperately stabbed into the giant’s fingers with his sword as it dragged him across the cave’s floor. Once he had realized that his actions were hardly effective, the knight lifted his claymore high and declared his honor and eternal devotion to the Silver Crown.

  I watched, horrified as the giant rolled up its mask and devoured him.

  The flailing body became crushed under its mighty molars, flattening instantly as dark blood spewed from every orifice. Its gargantuan tongue whipped about and tossed the knight’s corpse between each tooth as it bit down again, this time completely obliterating the armor. Its method of eating reminded me of a farm cow chewing grass. I turned away to avoid seeing further gore, desperately trying to mute the heinous chewing sounds before it swallowed the remains, armor and all.

  “Oh.” Skalige muttered in disappointment, as if we were watching a jousting tournament and his favorite contender had just been knocked off his mount.

  The giant extended his unscathed palm into the cave’s mouth and shoved the errant’s cage to the side, then replaced it with the wooden cage from its belt. Five living people, imprisoned within the cell, shrieked in terror. Each trembling man and woman cried out as the monster licked the errant’s cage clean before disappearing. He’s about to go hunt again.

  The unintelligible screams from the new prisoners blurred together as they realized that they were being preserved for a later meal. The giant’s eyes locked on them as it reached inside again, but this time to cusp its hand over the pile of discarded weapons. With one motion, it wrenched the mass out of the cave’s mouth and swept them into the valleys below. Smart, smart monster.

  The giant withdrew from the cave and descended down the mountain. I waited until the tremors became faint before I burst free of the bones.

  “Sir, please, sirs! Help us! Please!” the prisoners yelled once they saw us. We sprinted to their cell and attempted to give it a strong push but it wouldn’t budge. Skalige and I gathered all of our strength to shove into the side of the cage, to no avail.

  “Everybody, listen to me! You have to push with us!” I commanded. The five prisoners gathered themselves, collected their remaining sanity and proceeded to help us. After several attempts, the cage toppled over and land
ed hard on the ground. Just as I had predicted, the giant’s prison cell would burst open once turned over.

  The prisoners scrambled to their feet, nearly kissing ours once they were freed. I counted one woman, two men, a young man and an armored, Avenwood elf, nearly identical to the ones whom we had met. A man’s decapitated body lay slumped on the ground; the woman had begun hysterically weeping over it.

  “Thank you for your kindness, sirs! I cannot thank you enough! I’ve a tailoring shop outside of Western Tavetsche, and should you need a sewing job done, I would be honored to oblige! At no cost, of course! Aldroc Dunsworth, at your service, sirs.” the elder announced, shaking my hand. “That whore’s son doesn’t know who he’s messin’ with, taking me captive! I’ll have my brother send word to Graystorm. We’ll see how the giant fares against ten thousand sellswords!”

  “What happened with her?” I asked, gesturing to the crying woman.

  “Her fiance.” the young man answered, “He tried to fight but that only pissed it off worse, I think. Made it twenty yards before it grabbed him. Chewed off his head right in front of her.”

  “Shut it, Donovan. Can’t you see this isn’t the time to be saying things like that? The woman’s grieved enough, as it is.” Aldroc snapped.

  I sighed and introduced myself to the group who then told me their names: Aldroc the tailor from Tavetsche, Donovan, a blacksmith’s young apprentice, Amelia, a now-widowed shop maiden, Cirian, an assigned errant from Rotera and a foreign-speaking elven scout. We stood together in the mouth of the giant’s cave, conversing as a rush of cool wind swept through the chasms.

  “It picked up the elf on its way back here,” Aldroc explained, “nabbed me and Donovan yesterday afternoon, Cirian soon after and Amelia about the same time. The giant left our cage in this separate cave some five miles from here. I don’t know why. Donovan and I thought we were the only ones at first. No one even knows that we were taken. No one would care to come after us if they did. Bunch of soft hearts this side of Gorgon. Lucky for us, you stumbled upon...wait...who’s that over there?”

  I spun around to catch a young man crouched along the far wall of the cave, wearing bright-red armor with the Tuskan crest. His skin had sunken to his bones from lack of nutrition and wired eyes darted between us like we were his next prey of choice. He looked to be about fourteen years of age. The knight-fitted plating that he wore only made his withered state more tragic to see. His slight twitching reminded me of a feral cat one might find prowling back alleys at night.

  “Malachi?” I asked the boy. He seemed startled for a moment.

  “That’s the prince?” Skalige asked, scratching his matted hair. Malachi seemed overly cautious to be seeing living faces after a week of hiding. He stayed backed against the wall as I moved toward him. It pained me to see him in this condition. His lips were chapped with bloody chunks of meat still dangling from his mouth.

  “Malachi, I’m Caine and this is my friend, Skalige. Your father sent us here to bring you home.” I said with a reassuring smile, “You can trust us. We’ve come an awful long ways to find you.”

  He collapsed into my arms and I could feel his weakened strength as he tried to bury his face in my armor.

  “Looks like he hasn’t eaten in days.” Donovan noted from behind us.

  “Ah, I have an idea of how he’s made it this far.” Skalige replied, looking at the pile of bones. I shuddered at the thought but held this little boy close to let him know that he would be safe. He smelled foul, having not bathed in over a week.

  “We have to move.” I said to the group, suddenly remembering our predicament, “Skalige, check the mountain side where we climbed up. See if you can find a safer path down.”

  The baron exited the cave with Aldroc as I spoke with the starved young prince. His unwashed hair was matted and reeked of sweat. I couldn’t imagine having to survive a week of total fear, making a shelter out of a monster’s cache. Malachi’s bright, blue eyes frequently closed under immense exhaustion and his limp arms felt weak in my hands.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked. He choked out a few faint murmurs, trying to clear his dried throat. I reached into my pack and gave him my spare container of water; he emptied the horn in one swig. Once the strength in his vocal cords had recuperated, he said just one word, “Krea...”

  “Krea is safe and alive on the Du’Bois Farm.” I replied.

  The boy shot me a puzzled look, “Dragon’s...Cleaver...we have to...get it back..”

  “Forget the sword, Malachi. I’m sure your father has plenty. Our main concern is getting you home now. Need to get you back to your warm bed, your servants and kingly food.” I said, watching as he began to shudder.

  “I made it three days.” he whispered, frequently averting his attention to the pile of cleaned bones. True hunger will drive even the most sane of men to the brink of madness.

  “You did well, kid. Better than I would’ve done.”

  “It ate them...ate every last one of them…” Amelia wept into her folded arms beside her fiance’s corpse. Donovan rested an arm around her shoulders, trying his best to comfort her. The elven scout busied himself by searching through the weapon’s cache for blades or crossbows. Most of the swords had become rusted over time.

  Skalige returned with Aldroc to report, “That bastard took out half the mountain during its scuffle with the knight! We can’t get back down the way we came. There’s nothing left.”

  I contemplated our next actions, knowing that, at any minute, the giant could return. My newly acquired company looked to me for guidance, their faces writhing in fear as I crouched beside the frail prince.

  “There has to be some way.”

  Malachi looked at me, dried his red eyes and replied, “I know a way.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE ESCAPE ARTISTS

  Aketa passed through the village of Brunson, cloaked and moving quickly to avoid the fiendish, passing glances and wolf-whistles from sailors. Filthy men, carrying large crates of cargo from ships, called for her and winked but she stayed her course with a determined heart. Bandi’s Books & Herbs sat between a local bank and a pie shop with its gleaming sign dangling from a post at the door. She took a deep breath before stepping inside.

  Books of every size, shape and color filled the walls and shelves of Bandi’s shop, eagerly awaiting to be devoured by the minds of children and literate adults. A small cage that imprisoned a strange-looking bird with golden wings and white eyes rested on one of the many countertops; it cawed and shrieked as Aketa approached it. She glanced over a few that peaked her interest as she walked across the wooden floor and moved between stacks of parchments, stacked in many rows. Dust fluttered through the air in billowing clouds, as if no one had been inside of this store in months or bothered to clean it.

  The musty aroma of the old books smelled of aged leather, their covers caked in dust from weeks without human contact. Novels, works of art and personal documentations that have yet to be digested by the naked eye, sat unopened in cobwebs in the top corners of bookshelves. Aketa opened several titles, reading from the text inside:

  Entry 368:

  The sounds of the battle outside, I hate them all. The clanging of swords, the beating of drums like the living heartbeat of the God of War. Soldiers are at our gates now...fighting for what, I could not tell you - some prick with an iron fist barking orders at an adolescent with a sword too heavy for him to carry in one hand. It sickens me. My family is dead, my dog lays with her neck slit open in the street. Where are we to...

  “Hello? Hello?” an old man called out from behind the parchment stacks, interrupting her from reading another sentence. She gasped from shock and spun around on her heels to find only a heap of crumpled papers behind her.

  “Yes, hello, I’m Aketa. I’m looking for Bandi? I’m told this is his shop?” she replied, trying to see the man who couldn’t find her as well. Eventually, they discovered each other around one side. He was half of her height
with rimmed spectacles and thinning, silver hair.

  “Pleasure to meet you, my lady! Could I interest you in some pain-relieving herbs for your feet? I’m sure you get tired from walking, the same as the rest of us! If your bones ache or you’re having trouble sleeping, just one teaspoon of my elixir, added to a glass of warm water, and you will feel right as rain!” Bandi announced, shuffling to a shelf in the Herbs & Remedies section, “I keep these books just for girls like you!”

  “Sounds lovely but I’ve come for information.” Aketa replied, watching as the shopkeeper’s eyes sparkled, “A friend of mine, Lord Gavin of the Tuskan Palace, purchased two books from you. I’ve come to find out what they are.”

  “Misters and Mistresses of the palace are not required to pay here. I do recall of Mister Gavin buying them but, for the life of me, I cannot remember what they were called. I’ve become quite forgetful in my old age...sorry that I couldn’t help more, but you may be interested in some of my books abou-”

  “The Silent Killer and Herbalist Brews. What are they?” Aketa asked, stepping between him and the doorway. She didn’t want to come off as threatening but she gravely needed another thread to follow; her suspicions against the Lord outweighed her virtues in this moment.

  “Oh, I see. Well...” the shopkeeper replied as he scratched the bald patch on his head, “eh, Herbalist Brews is...obviously, a book about the brewing of herbal medicine and the mixing of remedies.”

  “And the other?”

  “Silent Killer is the study of poisons. Perhaps, the Lord wished only to learn about the differences between the two herbal studies? I only sold the books, my lady, I did not think to inquire about his motives.” he answered, truthfully. His spectacles trembled as he shook in fear.

  “Why do you look so afraid? You’re sweating.”

  “Not afraid of you, madame.” Bandi said as he glanced around, nervously, “The last man who divulged information about the High Command disappeared. Namos, owner of the Pink-Bellied Pig and my neighbor of ten years, vanished after speaking with some of the guards. Not a word more. That was over two months ago. I knew that he had troubles with his landlord but I never thought...it’s best to just keep your head down, pretend that you don’t know anything.”