by Cale Madison
“If you want to run, be my guest. He’ll snatch you up and gobble you in five seconds.” Skalige argued, watching as Aldroc nervously gulped, “This is his valley. He knows it better than we do. Avenwood is just on the other side of that ridge and if we start running like wild dogs, we’ll give him time to take chase!”
“Then, what are you suggesting?” Cirian asked.
“I’m still thinking...give me a bloody moment…”
The sand in the valley was now scorching hot from the midday sun. Buzzards and vultures peered ominously from perches along the canyon above us. I thought hard for a moment, pondering what few possibilities we had in this unfolding situation. We had little to no cover at this end of the mine so if the giant happened to search the other side, he would easily spot us. Cirian crept around the hill, perhaps to locate the monster’s current movements, but he paid no mind to where he stepped. His left foot snagged against a wire that stretched across the ravine, catching his other leg in a vice grip that dragged him several yards before hoisting him into the air. We scrambled to catch him but we were too late; a heavy, rusted blade launched from a divot in the hill and sliced through the man like a sword through a melon.
“The traps! Damn it to hell!” Skalige clamored, suddenly remembering Gwydion’s warning. We stood there in the open, examining the man’s flailing body as it dangled, suspended above us. Blood and entrails cascaded from his open torso onto the hot, sandy ground. I glanced to my left and spotted the elven mark of warning, a single gash in the mountain-side. In that moment of shock, I constructed our plan to escape.
After leading my remaining company back to the opening of the mine, I explained our next move, “Gwydion’s lined these hills with traps. We should use them to our advantage. Skalige, take Aldroc, Malachi and the scout west to Avenwood while I head north, setting off the traps to distract the giant.”
“Nope. Not gonna happen.” Skalige argued, “Not leaving you behind, hero.”
“We have a better chance with this plan. Like it or not, this is the only way. I might be able to slow him down with a few of the traps, but as long as you make it to the forest, you have a shot at escaping. Getting you all home is priority here. Getting Malachi home is the reason we’re here, Skalige.”
“Bullocks to your plan! We’ll take the bastard on together!” the baron exclaimed, rising to his feet with clenched fists, “I will not run from this fight, Caine. What is our motto? Go on, say it!”
I shook my head and remembered his sacred Oath of the Badlands. Skalige fingered his sword at his waist and eyed his companions. The elf scout didn’t speak our language but appeared intelligent enough to realize the plan. Aldroc looked me over and then turned to Skalige with a pale expression. Avenwood sat, almost beautifully inviting to our west while the giant searched around the opposite side of the collapsed mine. If we could make it past this one hill, escape the canyon and dash through the graveyard of bones, it would only be a handful of minutes until the cover of trees.
Before I could explain our next move, Aldroc suddenly leapt to his feet at the sound of loud tremors in the earth and exclaimed, “Bunch of time wasters, you all are! Forgive me, sirs, but I’m not dying today!”
The foolish old tailor began sprinting across the mountainous ravine towards the next hill, which rested between us and the tree coverage of Avenwood. I cursed under my breath and said to my company, “New plan: head for the woods and watch your step! Let Aldroc lead the giant away from us!”
Outlines of green trees called to us from beyond this hill, our safe haven from the nightmare pursuing us. Its ears had caught the sounds of Aldroc as he frantically scrambled across the valley. Thunderous footsteps echoed as we sprinted in the opposite direction of our rogue companion, who acted without thinking; the last that I would see of the old man became plucked into the air and crammed into one of the cages on the giant’s belt.
Skalige, the elf scout, Malachi and I made our way through the pass between the mountains as we headed north, trying to avoid catching the giant’s attention. I could feel the massive vibrations in the ground as the monster behind us continued its search. We leapt past boulders, avoided areas with chalked warnings and ran with the fear of death at our heels. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a large shape in the distance following us.
Skalige and I bounded over a pile of overturned bones, running along the spinal column of a leviathan as the giant neared us. I turned my head to see its massive hands swatting aside the obstacles in its path. The elf scout ducked just fast enough to avoid being snatched up by the behemoth. The baron suddenly began running at the speed of a man half his age.
Something halted the giant in its path, caused it to bend over and reach down to its foot. I watched as it roared in pain, plucking a rusted gauntlet’s blade that was deeply embedded into its toe. We’re getting too lucky. We sprinted until the rocky terrain became soft grass. I could hear the loud shouting of crowds in the near distance; we set eyes upon two armies facing each other in the fields between us and Avenwood.
“What is this madness?!” Skalige cried out.
It must have been as Gwydion mentioned the day before: the battle between the elves of Avenwood and Gorgon hill-men. Archers stood in line, standing with bows drawn behind soldiers in the front while pikemen crouched in between. An identical number of warriors faced them from the opposite end of the plains, carrying spears and crossbows. I could see the startled expressions of soldiers in both armies as they turned to see where the commotion was coming from. Their horses bucked in fear as they saw it. Hundreds of men on either side of the battlefield broke rank as the monster approached them.
“GIANT!” the hill-men began frantically yelling.
“GA’AEDSA!” shouted the elves.
I refrained from turning my head until we had made it into the forest, but I could tell from the shaking of the earth and the terrified expressions on their faces that the beast wasn’t too far behind. Warriors from Gorgon launched slings of rocks and chucked spears at the monster while the elves fired barrages of arrows, attempting to bring it to the ground. They galloped in wide circles around the monster, carefully avoiding its deadly stomps as they attacked.
Once the four of us had reached adequate cover beneath the trees, we could then recuperate our situation. Skalige immediately spun on his heels and drew his elven sword. His good eye gleamed with a fiery essence and his teeth clenched together. He looked like a bull preparing to charge into a crowd of red-shirted civilians.
“I’ll not hide while Hill-Dogs fight! The dishonor in that! Come on, Caine, let’s give those bards one hell of a song to sing!” Skalige exclaimed and then returned to the brutal skirmish behind us, waving his elven sword like a madman. I stopped and realized the cowardice of fleeing with two armies alongside us. The elf scout equipped a handful of arrows and a longbow from the Avenwood militia’s camp, then joined his brothers in the battle. Malachi attempted to follow us but I restrained him. When he resisted further, I hoisted him into the air and carried him to the edge of the forest as he spat obscene curses.
“I can fight! Let me go, dammit, I want to fight with you!” he argued, kicking at the air before I dropped him against a fallen oak tree.
“You have to stay here, Malachi. We’ve not come this far to lose you now.” I ordered, sternly, “Swear to me that you’ll stay hidden. Swear it!”
“There’s no honor in this? I’m fighting alongside my people!”
“Your people? Who exactly are your people, here, Malachi?” I asked, pointing towards the fighting soldiers, “Half are elves who would pump you full of arrows before you could tell them your name, and the other half would gut you for your father’s armor. None of them would lay their lives on the line to protect you. Trust me kid, you’ve proven your bravery already. Stay out of sight until the battle is over. Do it for your family. If we don’t return, head southwest to the palace and don’t stop until you’ve made it!”
“But…”
“Now is not the time to be a hero, Malachi. You’ve done that, already. You’re the bravest kid I’ve ever met, and I mean that. Please stay hidden until the battle’s over.”
The young prince eventually nodded and found a suitable hiding place behind the fallen oak. He watched nervously as I turned back towards the battlefield and drew Gwydion’s sword. The metallic sound of the blade pierced my ears, reminding me of the many times I’d heard it before.
***
Gavin sat in the Tuskan throne, feeling the cold metal beneath his fingers as he rapped his knuckles against the armrest. In his head, he imagined the room filled with nobles and knights, all bowing to him as their new king. He envisioned Queen Isabelle placing the golden crown atop his head and the High Command respectfully saluting behind him. Decorated minstrels arrived from Mocoreta, escorting three beautiful princesses who flashed their eyes in his direction. Thousands of men and women from across the north had gathered to witness his coronation.
“You shouldn’t be here. Too much light has been shed on our operation lately.” Cassius said, revealing himself from one of the corridor halls, “If you want to remain unseen, you’re doing a marvelous job at mucking that up.”
“Our operation? Did I hear that right?” Gavin asked with a confused look, “I thought you wanted out of this? Now that the plan is coming together, you want to reclaim your position?”
“The boy is dead, that is certain. My concern lies with the next part.” the priest replied, cupping his hands as he circled the Hand, “If one cog in this machine cracks, we lose everything. You’ve placed your faith in the wrong hands, my Lord. When’s the last time you’ve prayed? I always see you plotting but never surrendering a moment’s time to pray.”
Gavin said nothing. He only eyed the locked doors to the room to ensure nobody was peering inside. His sheathed sword lay leaning against one of the stone pillars, reflecting the light of the morning sun. A marble statue of Opheria sat beside the large doors, extending her hands as if to present him with the crown herself.
“You know that empty promises will not buy my loyalty, Gavin.”
“In a few months, I assure you that every man who’s ever prayed to the false god, Farys will be burned at the stake.” the Hand replied, never meeting the priest’s gaze, “Any church of the White Flame will be demolished and replaced with Opheria’s. Your Goddess shall be appeased and you will have your dues. I’ll make certain the baron is killed before tomorrow’s eve, framing one of Arrigon’s outposts. With the Badlands’ fleet, the north will be ours in a matter of months. Nothing plunges a country into war faster than the assassination of their leader.”
“And what of the Mercian? His wife? She’s been asking a lot of questions. The assassin failed miserably, a waste of gold. Soon, she’ll discov-”
“I’ve already handled it.” Gavin interrupted.
“How so?” Cassius asked, stunned at his reply.
“She’s awaiting trial in Castle Rock. A trial that will never come.” he explained, knocking his fist against the armrest, “At least they haven’t identified the assassin yet. Just some nameless, hired thug, as the coroner puts it. You know, I’ve spent years concocting this plan. I’ve waited for the boy to come of age, to find just the right reason for Malachi to venture away...all for it to nearly crumble at the hands of a damned farm boy and his wife.”
“These are no ordinary Mercians, Gavin. We both have seen that. They have this drive that I’ve never known before. Are you certain that the girl is locked away?”
“I’ll be riding to Castle Rock at noon to see for myself,” the Hand answered, to which Cassius nodded in content, “and the hunter has been watching over Bardford for the past few nights, in case the plan falls through. He assures me that the boy followed the giant into the forest. If Malachi hasn’t been eaten by the monster, his body is decomposing at Avenwood’s perimeter with at least twenty arrows in his back. Once I’m appointed as Athalos’s eyes and ears, I’ll ensure that Tuskan returns to glory. Arrigon will burn before the first winds of winter. Once the North is flying our banners, we cut ties with the south and forge one sovereign power. Everything is going as planned, Cassius.”
“Your faith in Athalos...can you be sure of this?”
“Without question,” he replied before rising from his seat, “but our focus, right now, needs to be on solidifying allies. Send word to the dockmasters in Brunson, but wait until morning. Tell them I’ll be sailing to the Southern Isles to personally deliver the news of their baron’s murder. We’ll need support once the day comes for Tuskan’s new king. This war will be a great, bloody mess that will rage for years, possibly decades.”
“What we need is to make devotion to Opheria, to ask for her blessings.” Cassius said, turning to watch as the Hand began to leave the room with his sword, “I mean it, Gavin. Take some time to give her thanks. We wouldn’t have made it far without her.”
Gavin kissed his left palm before slapping Opheria’s stone knee-cap as he exited from the throne room. The priest shook his head with a sigh.
***
I turned my head to witness the onslaught happening in the fields behind us: hundreds of soldiers hurling spears, firing arrows but swiftly becoming pulverized against the brute strength of the giant. Two trebuchets launched grappling pikes that struck into the monster’s spine, trying to wrench him to the ground. In one motion, it yanked the rope and dismantled the catapults into thousands of splintered pieces. Its bellowing roar echoed throughout the forests of Avenwood, alerting every living creature in the area.
I ducked, scarcely missing the wheels of a catapult as it came sailing overhead. With each tremor from the titan’s steps, every soldier on the battlefield would buckle to their knees. I could see the baron charging with a battalion of tribesmen, his gleaming sword raised high as he shouted, “Have at you, you big son of a bitch!”
It killed dozens of men with each swing of its powerful arm and stomped twenty with one foot. Gorgon warriors leapt onto the brute’s legs, stabbing and scaling its knees as it struggled to swat them away. I moved cautiously to avoid the barrages of arrows that rained down around us. Tan-colored scales served as armor that covered the giant’s chest, neck and head, protecting it from lethal attacks. Fortunately, I noticed the lack of scales on its forearms and ankles and remembered the Blue Knight in the cave. If his spear can pierce its neck...
Skalige saw this as well and began savagely chopping at the giant’s heels without hesitation. I slid beneath a blow from its open palm, raised my sword high and then felt the weight of thick blood pour over my arms and head. The giant withdrew its arm to examine its fresh wound and glanced down to see me, standing with my blade ready. Another flurry of arrows luckily averted its attention.
The gargantuan unsheathed the dismantled castle tower from its belt and began clashing against the ocean of bodies at its feet. With one swing, it would flatten an entire battalion and cripple anyone standing in the vicinity. Elves attempted to wrap the giant’s ankles in rope but were inevitably foiled; tribesmen trying to scale onto its back were violently thrown off and launched over the battlefield.
“How do we bring it down?!” Skalige shouted beside me.
When the dust cleared, I looked to the forest perimeter to see hundreds of elf archers release a volley. A dark cloud of arrows came pouring down over the giant, barely able to distract it from destroying a trebuchet and its operators. With an ear-shattering roar, the titan lunged down and began snatching up droves of soldiers. It would then hurl their limp bodies over the forest treetops.
A chestnut-colored stallion came rolling across a mound of flattened bodies, nearly crippling me as it tumbled to my right. The fields were stained in tribesmen blood and littered with the bodies of elves. I spotted a longbow, still tightly held in the hands of a slain, elven archer. After prying the grip from his fingers, I loaded an arrow into the string and aimed for the giant’s stomach. I sighed as the missile snapped against its scales and fell. The baron ca
lled out from across the field, “The bastard’s taken a thousand arrows, at least! His skin’s too thick!”
“Tell them that they have to aim where the scales are less dense! The stomach, the arms, the neck and the ankles!” I shouted as I reloaded.
My second arrow soared past its throat, barely missing its mark.
“Caine! There’s only one left! They’re reloading the last catapult!” the baron shouted from afar. Then, before I could respond, I heard the booming war cries of elves and hill-men. I watched in horror as the two armies released volleys of arrows on the opposite side of the giant. They were desperate to bring down the great beast, regardless of who stood on the field’s southernmost corner.
I dove behind a collapsed trebuchet, using the iron frame as a barrier from the arrows sailing down. I shut my eyes, listening to the sharp fluttering of bolts as they stuck into the grass around me. One grazed just past my ear before burying itself in the chest of a passing elf. I could hear Skalige shouting from the distance, “Caine! Caine, take cover! By the Gods!”
This is how it ends, I thought, Surrounded by death and calamity.
Around me, unfortunate soldiers were pierced by the falling missiles. I covered my ears as passing elves shrieked after being caught in the volley. I fought to ignore the whinnies of horses as their bodies plunged into the mud. I screamed to drown out the seemingly endless sounds of arrows whizzing past my head. The baron’s shouting became unintelligible as I felt the end drawing near. The raining bolts blotted out the sunlight for a few brief moments, basking my hiding place in a cool, dark shadow. I opened my eyes to see the flag of Avenwood being trampled on by a white stallion; her coat was covered in feather-tipped arrows and blood. She was mindlessly braying and spinning in circles.
Suddenly, a stone from the last catapult, manned by both elves and tribesmen, cruised through the sky and struck hard on the giant’s shoulder. It turned to shield itself from the next one but was not fast enough as the boulder cracked against the base of its skull. Its mask ripped open, revealing a hideous, disfigured face to the armies below: two red eyes, a twisted nose and a bloody mouth. The giant staggered for a moment as another series of arrows cascaded down, taking the beast along with them. The final tremor of the Gorgon Giant could be felt for miles, from every corner of Tuskan. When the clouds of dust and debris cleared, the armies could see its lifeless corpse, lying sprawled on the battlefield.
