Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  Anders studied him as he took a gentle sip from his own jug. He reckoned if the big fellow got to his feet, he'd be a touch over seven feet tall, so definitely not a full Giant; falling maybe four or five feet short of a Giant's usual stature. But there was definitely some Giant in there; there was a story to be told here, he felt.

  He weaved his way back through the crowd and took up a position back at the bar.

  'What do you know of him?' he asked the barman, as he placed his tankard carefully on the bar.

  'As much as I know of anyone, Sir. Not much else to say. He likes his ale, and it's well paid for, and he likes his song, though he has no skill as a singer. What he eats in a day would feed a family for a month, and that's your lot.'

  'From where does he hail?'

  'Not from here, I can tell you, but not much more. From the north, would be my thought, they have his sort up north, I think. And they can keep them, if you ask me as much. Heard dark things, I have, and that's the blessed truth.'

  For a man with little to say, thought Anders, he wastes a lot of words.

  He kept his thoughts to himself and settled down with his drink and his pipe, and waited.

  As the afternoon waned, so did the crowd, leaving the great lump asleep on the floor, snoring with a remarkable cacophony of different noises.

  'They'll be back when they've found themselves some more coin,' sighed the barman, as the last of them left.

  Anders moved quietly to the sleeping half-giant and nudged him with the toe of his boot.

  There was no reaction, so he kicked him quite hard in the side.

  There was a grunt and the big man heaved himself to a sitting position, rubbing a hand that would have spanned Anders' chest across his face.

  'What's?' he muttered, hoarsely. 'What's 'appening?'

  'Good evening to you, good man,' said Anders, 'can I buy you a drink?'

  The great head turned, revealing a heavy brow and small dark eyes, on either side of a broad flat nose. 'You can buy me a drink, fine sir, if you have the purse. But I'm only drinking quarts today, in two by two.'

  'Can you stand?' Anders moved back to give him room.

  'Of course I can stand; been standing all me life, I have; learnt all by myself.'

  Slowly, like a geological movement, he rose to his feet, towering above Anders who himself was considered a tall man.

  'I'll buy you drinks, my friend, but one by one. I want to have words with you and I don't want you to be ale addled.'

  'Ale doesn't addle my brains, Sir. It helps me keep calm, and stops me from fighting.'

  Anders gripped the quart jug he’d ordered in one hand and tried to lift it from the bar. He soon decided that two hands were a better fit for the job.

  'So where are you from, my friend, and what do they call you?'

  The half-giant took a deep drink from his jug and snorted.

  'Picked my own name, I did, 'cause none would do it for me. I'm Rootheart, and pleased to meet you, good sir. I'd shake your hand and pat you on the back, but you wouldn't like that at all, I think. So I'll just drink your ale and call you friend.'

  'And from where do you come?'

  'From the north of course. Where would you expect a Giant to come from? Though I be only half a Giant, and a full man.'

  'Giants have not been seen in this land for many years.'

  'That'll change and no doubt. They are moving south with the cold; they don't like the cold does Giants, and it's neat and warm down here, I'll say. They'll be here as time passes; trust me on that.'

  'And you? There's a story to tell about you, I'm sure. Never heard of one such as you before.' Anders took the smallest sip of his warm ale.

  'You say the truth there; it is a rare occurrence. My ma was a Giant of course; it would never work the other way. She chased my Pa into the Deep Forest when it was spring and the flossoms were in full bloom. The scent drove them both mad with passion, as the story goes, and they met and rutted and, of course, my Pa did not survive the experience.'

  'And you. How was it for you? A half-human child amongst Giants?'

  Rootheart shrugged. 'It could have been worse, I'd say. They took me for a wrong Giant and cast me out to fare for myself; didn't even bless me with a name, they didn't. Could have been worse; they could have taken me as a man, and eaten me.'

  'You are truly lucky to have survived to this day.' Anders finished his drink and, for some unfathomable reason, found himself ordering another round.

  'A full one this time, landlord,' he said.

  With a full drink for each of them, Anders turned to Rootheart.

  ‘I could make use of one such as you, I think. Do you have anywhere you have to be for the next few days?’

  ‘I don’t have to be anywhere but where I am,’ replied Rootheart. ’There’ll be pay in this, I should think? I won't kill no-one, though; not for nothing.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, my friend, there's no need for anyone to be harmed. And, as far as the money goes, I’ll even pay you a portion up front so to speak, out of honour and respect, and then you can buy the next round.’

  Chapter 28 Lord Richard

  Lord Richard was standing by the harbour wall, with the stout figure of Jefro beside him, and the mage, enjoying a breath of fresh sea air.

  ‘They come,‘ said Jefro, with a gesture towards the west gate.

  Richard smiled, for he too could hear the thunder of horse hooves on the hard surface of the Coast road.

  He moved from the wall and walked towards the gate, to be first to greet them.

  ‘I knew he would not let us down, even after all of these years,’ he said, mostly to himself.

  ‘I had heard…things, sir,’ said Jefro, not one to keep his thoughts to himself.

  ‘Nonsense! He is still a good man, and he was always a friend.’

  ‘If you say so, sir.’ Jefro glanced at the mage who shook his head.

  The soldiers appeared on the road, their magnificent beasts trotting with heads held high, but the white flecks across their chests testified to the hardship of their journey.

  They pulled up some 20 yards from the gate, and one officer rode forward slowly.

  His cloak was red, and dusty from the road.

  ‘Lord Richard of Hesselton?’ he said, his voice croaking slightly.

  ‘Ay, lad; that is me. Welcome to Hesselton. You are a much wished response to our request of the king.’

  ‘Sir, my name is Casmur, and I am on the king’s business.’

  ‘Indeed, Casmur, you are, and you must have rode hard to make such good time.’

  ‘The king did not wish us to tarry, sir.’

  ‘You must be tired. Bring your men into the town. They can have drink and rest as we discuss our plans.’

  ‘Plans, sir? We have no plans to discuss.’

  ‘But…if the king sent you to help, then we must…’

  ‘Forgive me, Lord, for interrupting, but the King did not send us to help, sir. Not at all.’

  Richard looked past him at the 20 or so soldiers, waiting patiently.

  ‘But…then, why are you here, man?’

  ‘To deliver a message, sir. The king is insulted by your actions, sir, and he will have you attend him at court within the next 10 days.’

  ‘But that’s…did he not receive my messenger? Did he not explain…?’

  ‘He arrived, sir, and he did his best.’

  Casmur gave a quick look back over his shoulders. ‘But, I’m sorry, sir, but he was not allowed to explain your absence, sir.’

  Richard felt a chill run through his body.

  ‘Where is he? Where is Jumba?’

  ‘He is here, sir. We have returned him to you.’ He raised his right hand and beckoned with two fingers.

  Behind him, the riders separated and one rode forward, leading a pack horse behind him.

  Strapped to the back of the pack horse was the broken body of Jumba; still and cold.

  ‘What…?’ Richa
rd took a step towards him, but then he stopped, seeing the futility of his action.

  ‘We’ll leave him with you, sir. And, believe me, sir, I would not have had this happen, sir.’ The last was whispered, so as not to be overheard by his men.

  ‘Ay, soldier,’ said Richard, between gritted teeth. ‘I understand. May the road fare thee well.’

  ‘Be sure not to disappoint the king, Lord Richard, or he’ll surely send us to fetch you. He was going to have us bring you back in chains, but then he changed his mind, as is his way, and said you could bring yourself.’

  He nodded, with a frown, and then he jerked the reins and his horse turned. Within seconds, the soldiers had gone.

  ‘Help me, Jefro. Let us cut him down, and treat him with the dignity he deserves.’

  Together, they carried Jumba from the horse and laid him gently on the ground.

  ‘I’ll be off and get some men to carry him off to be cleaned up, sir, if that be all right with you, sir.’

  ‘Ay, do that.’

  Richard knelt beside Jumba’s body, not touching him, but close enough.

  ‘He was a good man,‘ he said, softly, as the mage came to stand beside him. ‘He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t. If I hadn’t sent him…he’d still be alive.’

  ‘We cannot judge our actions with ifs, Richard. You know that well enough.’

  Richard shook his head, rejecting the mage’s words.

  ‘What will you do now, Richard?’

  Richard did not answer immediately. He remained beside his old friend for a long moment.

  At last, he moved slowly to his feet, like a man with too many years for the task.

  ‘He was good to Clara, he was. He treated her right. He covered her with a blanket, in case she‘d get cold. Did I tell you that?’

  The mage nodded and touched his shoulder gently.

  Richard took a deep breath, and he held it for a long time, until he released it with a shudder.

  Then he pulled out his sword and looked at it as if it was the first time he’d held the thing in his hand.

  ‘What will I do now?’

  He gripped the sword with both hands.

  ‘I will continue as I planned, mage. I will not stop until the land is rid of this damned creature. I swear by my father’s sword, and this oath will not be broken. And when it is done, if I still survive, then I will visit the king, and he will feel my wrath.’

  The mage sighed, and then he stood as upright as his old frame would allow.

  ‘In that case, I will do as you wish, Richard. I will help you.’

  Richard sheathed his sword, and then he unbuckled his belt and handed the sword and scabbard to the mage.

  ‘Be as quick as you can be, mage, for I leave on the morn.’

  Just then Jefro returned.

  ‘Will you go on your own?’ asked the mage.

  ‘I will go with you, sir,‘ said Jefro, firmly. ’Wherever you go.’

  ‘No, lad. You will stay here with Alice, and you will look after her for me, until I get back. I would not have anyone else harmed.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Perhaps Lord Richard would allow some company on the road?’

  The voice came from beyond the gate, and was as deep as a tumble of falling rocks.

  Richard turned and found there was a smile on his face as he watched Ferrooll duck beneath the gate and stride into Hesselton.

  ‘There was talk of ale, I think. And food; food was definitely mentioned. And a Giant, he don’t half get hungry on the road.’

  Book III

  They who once knew joy

  Chapter 29 Trytors

  ‘He was strong, you wouldn’t believe his strength, but I won the day, and left him dead on the ground.’

  Ashlorn spoke calmly, as if killing a Giant was an everyday occurrence.

  Brudorth shook his head in admiration. ‘That was a special thing you did there, Ashlorn, and I drink to your honour.’

  He raised his flagon and downed it in one.

  ‘And I too,’ said Teldorn, matching his brother.

  ‘Forgive me for asking,’ said Lydorth, with a sigh, ’but, was this one the Giant with just the one arm?’

  Ashlorn glared at him. ‘Ay,’ he said, not feeling the need to defend himself.

  ‘Then I drink to the honour of the one-armed Giant slaying Trytor; my dear brother.’ He held up his flagon, and then he took a quick sip.

  Ashlorn nodded in acknowledgement, thinking that mayhap he was being mocked, but he was not absolutely sure.

  ‘And let us hope that, one day soon, he has the opportunity to slay one with a full set of limbs.’ Lydorth held up his flagon once more, and his brothers joined him. He decided that there was no need to add the codicil to his statement, ‘if he can.’

  Sometime later, with the celebrations of Ashlorn’s valour in the face of the limb deficient behemoth complete, and his brothers slumped in their chairs, defeated by the strength of their ale, Lydorth slipped away.

  ‘So, Garraldi,’ he said, leaning against the cell bars, down in the dungeons, ‘any news today? Did anything happen today that didn’t happen yesterday, or the day before? Perhaps a rat scurried across your leg? Or your lice were especially active today? Did the food exceed your expectations? Shall I pass your compliments on to the chef?’

  There was no response from the dark depths of the cell.

  Lydorth glanced around. ‘We should get better lighting down here, I think, but then I’d just be able to see your miserable face more clearly, so no, perhaps not.’

  He walked around the room for a moment, glancing into the other cells.

  ‘So, no words for me again, Garraldi. Are you working on a particularly pithy response? Do you want to be sure to get it absolutely right before you open your mouth? I await your comments with breathless anticipation, but it has been weeks now, Garraldi. How long do you expect your audience to wait?’

  He turned and marched from the room, with a ‘this is no fun!’ hanging in the air behind him.

  Alone once more, Garraldi emerged and shuffled to the bars. He rested his forehead against their coolness and he thought of his brother, out there in the world, doing whatever it was he did for the Trytors. He thought of his parents, dead at the hands of the Trytors, victims of his father’s honesty; victims of his father’s folly; victims of his own drunken betrayal.

  He spoke the phrase that had run through his mind since his incarceration; the only words he planned to speak until he was released from this trial.

  ‘I will endure,‘ he said, and his eyes saw that which was no longer there. ‘I will endure.’

  **********

  It was the morning of her father’s departure, and she meant to have him eat a proper meal before he left.

  ‘There you are, father. Roast duck for breakfast! What will people say?’

  Lord Richard surveyed the spread before him. It looked very similar to the meal that had been presented to him the night before.

  ‘Delicious, my dear,’ he said, after the first mouthful, though in truth, he had no appetite. All he could think of was Jumba’s poor, broken body, killed needlessly in his service.

  He was spared the need for another taste when Jefro barged into the dining room.

  ‘Sir, beg your pardon, sir, for interrupting, like, but there’s an old…lady at the door, and she wants to speak to you. And she’s got herself three boys with her, she has, sir.’

  ‘Oh well, in that case…’ said Richard, half rising.

  ‘No, father. You just stay where you are, and finish your meal. Whilst you are gone, I’ll be the Lady of the valley, so I may as well deal with this now.’ There was a firmness to her tone that did not seem to allow the possibility of disagreement.

  ‘Very well, my dear, if you are sure.’

  ‘Jefro, bring them into the south reception room, and please arrange for a refreshing glass of lemonale for each of the boys.’

  ‘And for the old woman, my dea…my Lady
?’

  ‘I’ll discover her purpose before I offer her refreshments, I think.’

  ‘Very well, my Lady.’ He nodded to Lord Richard before he left the room, and there may well have been a quick wink between them.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ Her tone was cool and formal.

  Miss Higard made an awkward adjustment to her lower limbs that could have been described in a charitable way as a curtsey.

  ‘My...Lady, I was hoping for a word with Lord Richard, your father, like.’

  ‘I know who Lord Richard is, madam…?’

  ‘Miss, my Lady. I was never fortunate enough to meet the man…’

  ‘What can I do for you, miss?’

  ‘Beg your pardon and all, my Lady.’ Miss Higard pulled the boys about her, ‘but you see these poor boys, lost at sea they were, and they would have perished for certain, and no-one would have known, but Old Jones, he rescued them he did. But, he don’t know how to look after children, he barely knows how to look after himself. So he brought them to me, and you know, I loves children, I do, though I ain’t had my own, so I said, ‘give them here, Jones, and I’ll look after them, for they need a woman’s touch, they do.’ So he did just that, and I’ve been looking after them all on me own.’

  ‘Very laudable, I’m sure.’ Alice was certain that there was more to come.

  ‘But, they don’t half eat, my Lady, from dawn to dusk they eat, and they’re so hard on their clothes. And breaking things, my Lady, you wouldn’t believe how many of my precious possessions they have broke, running here and there all the time.’

  ‘They must be a trial for you.’

  ‘Ay, a trial, that’s what they are.’

  ‘And it must be hard for you, at your age.’

  ‘Ay, my dear, it is, but I don’t complain. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you that I’m one to keep my troubles to myself.’

  ‘But…?’

  ‘But? My Lady?’

  ‘You have a solution in mind, I would expect.’