The Mad Giant (Shioni of Sheba Book 3)

by Marc Secchia

  “No.”

  “You lying to me?”

  “Yes! Alright, yes!” Shioni, in a fine fit of rage, threw off Mama’s hands.

  Mama said soothingly, “That were quite a scene you made this morning. The General’s not mad at you no more. Actually, he was impressed you were the only person who moved to protect Annakiya.”

  “Huh. The Princess?” snorted Shioni, hacking an onion so hard it shot off the board and splatted against the wall. “What does she care?”

  “More than you think.”

  “They’re going to kill him! And Talaku is no murderer!”

  “You said. Twenty times already. Look, issuing a rogue warrior order is not a warrant–”

  “Mama! Dabir sent his trackers out with orders to bring him back or kill him. You must think I’m as thick as a donkey–I know I wasn’t invited to your secret meetings.”

  Mama Nomuula folded her huge arms across her chest. Her round face, usually beaming with smiles, became as dark as a thundercloud. “So that’s what this is all about!”

  Shioni waved her carving knife under Mama’s nose. “Who’s lying now? Oh, don’t tell me, I can read it right off your face. You didn’t have to lie because you fobbed me off on that stupid errand riding down to the warriors guarding the tunnel–the tunnel I found!”

  “Shioni.” Mama lowered her voice. “Look, the General didn’t want to jeopardise the raid… you know… the raid on that place?”

  “Oh, so now I’m the danger?”

  “Honey, slave-girls can’t expect to attend strategy meetings with the Captains and all.”

  Shioni jabbed the chopping knife so hard into the board that it stood there quivering like a reed on a windy day. “Oh, I understand perfectly!” Ducking beneath Mama’s encircling arm, she stepped away. “Thank you for explaining so nicely how much of a liability I am!”

  “Shioni! Shioni!”

  Mama’s exasperated shout followed her out of the doorway, but Shioni didn’t care. Blindly, she ran out of the keep and down through Mama’s herb gardens. But the gate guard halted her with an upraised palm, and before she could figure out what was happening, her friend Kifle seized her arm, hauled her off to one side, and hissed in her ear, “Shut your mouth and just listen. Okay?”

  Shioni nodded, startled into silence by his furtive manner.

  “There’s a verbal order out–nothing written, understand? You’re not to be allowed out of the gate without an escort.”

  “What? But I always… but I never… Kifle?”

  “I didn’t tell you.” Kifle put his finger to her mouth to quiet her. “Go for a walk. Clear your head. Scoot!”

  “But… who?”

  “Fly away, birdie!”

  Caged. Dabir, Getu or Annakiya, what difference did it make who had issued the order? For what seemed an age, Shioni prowled around the inside of the defensive wall like a caged lion, speechless with indignation. Before reaching the gatehouse she had begun to feel ashamed of shouting at Mama. And now? Her friends were ignoring her. Excluding her. Worst of all, they were ganging up on her! She could gladly have stuffed a raw onion right into that smug smile of Mama’s. Fancy admitting it all… and then rubbing her nose in the stinking business to boot!

  Slaves can’t do this. Slaves can’t do that. She was sick of being a slave! Maybe next time she just wouldn’t throw her body on the line for the Princess. All she had to show for it was a fat lip and the joy of having the General, Mama, and Princess Annakiya take turns to deliver a verbal kicking to the slave-girl. Slaves had feelings, not just functions. Even Annakiya, a thoughtful and gentle owner for the most part, forgot that at times.

  She flicked a stone with her toe. Even in her current mood, she was not mad enough to kick it. Bruise a toe? That would just add insult to injury–or was that injury to insult?

  A rushing of wings above her head made her duck instinctively and lash out with the dagger. Too much warrior training, right there. And a healthy dollop of vexation.

  “Finally,” said the vulture.

  Once Shioni had decided her head was safe, she took a second look at the bird perched uneasily on a low branch near her–and almost ducked again. Bearded vultures were common in the mountains. They often soared high overhead, and oftentimes she had seen them dropping bones from a great height onto exposed crags, in order to break them open and get at the marrow inside. But to be swooped upon by one was another matter entirely. The bird was much larger than she had expected, only a foot or so shorter than herself, she estimated. But its wingspan was massive, and its sharply-hooked beak looked ideally suited to ripping the guts out of anything that moved.

  Maybe she should just keep very still in that case…

  The bearded vulture folded those slate-grey pinions, ruffled its dusty yellow chest, and fixed her with an unblinking glare. “A message from Anbessa,” it announced, rather grandly.

  “Anbessa?”

  “Do you know another? Lord of the Simien Mountains. Decidedly lion-like in appearance.”

  Shioni realised the bird had just labelled her a dimwit without saying the word. Deciding to decline the bait, she bit her lip until she tasted blood instead. “Go on.”

  With a flick of his be-ruffed head, the vulture intoned, “A message from Anbessa. Greetings to Shioni of Sheba, presently residing at Castle Hiwot.” She blinked. The vulture’s voice had deepened to resemble Anbessa’s regal tones with uncanny accuracy. And Anbessa knew about the renaming of the castle? “Forgive the brief nature of my message, but I thought it best to pass on to you word which reached my ears today. In sum, you are betrayed by Kalcha’s spies in the castle. The Sheban warriors currently marching upon Chiro Leba, march into an ambush. They will surely be destroyed if they are not stopped or helped. Furthermore, Kalcha and her apprentices hunt your companion, the giant. You will find him dwelling in a cave behind the lower cataract on the Mesheha, not an hour’s journey upriver from where the Wasabi tunnel exits into the valley. Remember your name in Lion: Graceful Strength of the Dawn.”

  And with that, the vulture spread its wings and took to the skies once more.

  Arrogant creature!

  Now she knew for certain the Sheban Elite contingent had already left for Chiro Leba. Mama had lied. Annakiya had lied. And the slave-girl was infuriated, but that would probably matter about as much as a donkey’s breakfast. So they wanted to do everything without her? They didn’t need her skills, despite General Getu suggesting they had some value to Sheba? And now the warriors were marching straight into a trap and she was stuck in the castle with some nonsensical order forbidding her from walking out of the gate and nobody would listen to her?

  “Stupid, sneaking, scabby, nasty, loathsome hyenas!” she hissed between her teeth. “They’re treating me exactly like one of you lot!”

  But now Shioni spotted a messenger boy coming running down into the gardens. The funny thing about five-year-old boys was how they always ran as though their lives depended on it. The thought made her smile, even now. Hemmed in on all sides, there would be no escape. How did they expect her to bathe, for heavens’ sake? In dirty water from Mama’s kitchens? She raised her hand and waved to the boy. He had done nothing wrong, even if he was the same mite who had unwittingly lured Annakiya away from the pool–what was it, all of a week ago now?

  She might as well find out what the high and mighty ones wanted of their slave, this time.

  Chapter 16: Decoding the Secret Passage

  Shioni’s EYES SHIFTED from Princess Annakiya to General Getu and back again, with the feeling in her gut that her intestines were being squashed by a large boulder. The thin set of Getu’s mouth, the slight sigh that escaped Annakiya’s lips–she knew her cause was lost. She stared bitterly at Talaku’s huge, double-bladed war axe, which was leaning in the corner of the Princess’ room. He liked to it call ‘Siltam’, from the old word meaning ‘sharp’. Why was he so fond of the weapon? Macabre… enough to give her the shivers!

  “The warri
ors left yesterday after nightfall,” said Getu.

  “A fast rider could catch them–I know I could, my Lord.”

  “You–especially you–are not going anywhere,” said the General, but he had the grace to shift uncomfortably as he reined her in. “I want you right here, right under my nose where I can smell the trouble before it bites me in the backside.”

  “Anbessa says–”

  “We know there are spies in the castle, Shioni!” Seen in the lamplight, Getu’s expression was unusually severe. Her eyes flicked down again. He was about to tear a strip off her, she could sense it. “I have taken great pains to conceal the timing and purpose of this raid. And we have Desta to lead us by the secret paths. I heard your concerns about his motives. I warned Captain Dabir without needing to take advice from a slave-girl.”

  “And the hyenas–”

  “You said. The timing of this supposed message from Anbessa is all a little too convenient for my liking. You have a fight with Mama, you storm out, next thing you’re coming back with a revelation from the heavens.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Girl, you need to learn that the whole world does not revolve around you and your powers and your dreams and… all that. You are a slave of Sheba. You have a position, duties, and responsibilities, but you remain a slave!”

  Well, that told her, didn’t it? Shioni felt her lower jaw trembling. Tears were not far away, and she was madder than a hornet whose nest had been kicked around by a group of naughty boys. She would not cry. She would not!

  His finger stabbed the air beneath her nose. “Don’t you give me that stubborn-donkey look! I am not displeased with you, Shioni. What I feel is–well, what I fear is that Kalcha might be attacking us through your mind. I fear you might be the spy.”

  Shioni’s mouth imitated a tilapia fish swallowing water.

  “Inadvertently, of course,” Annakiya put in.

  The General gripped her chin and turned her face upward until she was obliged to meet his gaze. His eyes seemed kindly, but resolute–and much less angry than she had expected. “You’re a fool if you think we are accusing you for no good reason,” he said. “Those warriors out there are the Elites of Sheba. You need to let the men do what they are trained to do.”

  All Shioni could see in her mind’s eye was how easily Kalcha had defeated them the last time–how her power flattened two hundred hardened warriors like stalks of grain smashed by an avalanche. Had the General forgotten so soon? Kalcha had broken his leg! She had come within an arrow’s point of conquering the castle and making them all her slaves. But all that seemed to have been swept away on the river.

  “I am glad you have the courage of your convictions,” the General was saying, still holding her chin as though he would rather be shaking some sense into her than merely speaking. “But you need learn to discern when they are the right convictions. Now, the Princess has a nice job to take your mind off all this, my daughter. Scrolls, quill pens, ink, lamp oil and a large jebena of coffee are required. Princess Annakiya will show you she has decoded the stele by the cave.”

  The matter was evidently dismissed.

  Pasting her best, most excited expression onto her face, Shioni turned to the Princess, exclaiming, “No, you didn’t!”

  “I worked out the key this afternoon,” said Annakiya, with a self-satisfied smirk that Shioni would have loved to slap right off her lips. “With Zi’s help, of course. It just remains to decode the text. We’ve started already…”

  Shioni unfolded herself from her kneeling position. “I will fetch what you require at once, my Lady.”

  “I have scrolls to prepare,” said Getu, rising to leave as well.

  Annakiya was looking oddly at Shioni. Holding her bland expression steady–a vacuous look she usually reserved for hours of chopping vegetables or stirring Mama’s pots of wot, the spicy sauce she so loved–even though it cost her dear, she inclined her head. “Whatever you need. At once.”

  The Princess nodded. “Be quick.”

  So… they thought she was the spy, did they? As Shioni limped down to the kitchen in search of a jebena, coffee beans and a small stove, she was trembling so hard she had to concentrate on walking properly, or her knees might have given way. Her stomach was a churning mess. Her, Kalcha’s spy? The nerve! The warriors’ departure, deliberately concealed… the secret meetings… and orders to detain her within the castle grounds… the whole atrocious, stinking evening had then been back-ended by a staggering accusation. The last place in the world she wanted to be was right under the General’s nose... oh!

  She was so taken aback by the idea, her throat closed up and after a moment she had to force herself to start breathing again.

  Oh my… oh no, she couldn’t.

  The idea slithered back again to coil, snakelike, around her weakening resolve.

  Oh yes she could…

  Chapter 17: Stowaway

  Shioni’s hand hovered over the scroll lying on Annakiya’s desk like a kingfisher lining up a fat river tilapia for the fatal strike. This was it. Beyond this point, it was more than the theft of a few gourds of lamp oil and a hunk of thick anise bread. Nor would she be committing an act of mere disobedience; she would be kicking the General’s orders into a heap of dung and screeching in celebration as she did so. Much as the idea appealed… she was about to prove she was exactly the troublemaker the General accused of giving him a grey beard!

  Poor Annakiya: she had worked until she fell asleep over the scroll in the early hours. Around the tenth hour, Shioni helped her into bed. Now was the eleventh hour, one hour before dawn, and the Princess of West Sheba was snoring lightly and drooling a little on her pillow.

  She had convictions, but were they accurate? Or was the General right? It boiled down to whether or not she trusted Anbessa’s word. Desta and Selam were clearly lying–of that she was convinced beyond doubt. If she was right she might be able to warn the Elites in time, or at least foil Desta’s plans. But what if she were mistaken? She might never see the Princess or the castle or Zi or Mama again. A whipping might be the best she could expect. Resale was the worst. Who knew what kind of owner she might gain? Some of the slave-girls told terrible stories about their owners…

  Her courage resembled a shrivelled raisin.

  Could she let the warriors be slaughtered? No. She could never live with that guilt.

  Her hand wobbled like a moth in flight.

  Abruptly, she snatched up the scroll and stuffed it down her shirt. Please God let her instincts be right!

  Shioni hobbled down the hallway, hindered by her foot, and surveyed the courtyard from the protective darkness of the doorway. All seemed quiet. Keep to the shadows. Try to be nimble, despite the infection and the pain. Please let the gate guard be sleeping or looking at the stars outside!

  Shioni slipped into the stables, just a darker shadow amongst many, and paused to let her eyes adjust. Thunder nickered faintly. She whispered, “Yes. It’s time.”

  The bolt of his stall withdrew without so much as a squeak. That would be because someone–she grinned–had oiled it recently. And the hinges too. Funny, that. Thunder nosed her pocket. She had promised him five cubes of sugar if he played his part perfectly.

  Thunder, bless him, minced down to the keep’s entrance with the fluttering steps of a dancer. He was such a show off! Shioni stuffed her fist into her mouth. A fit of the giggles now would ruin everything. In a second, she heard a startled exclamation followed by a chorus of muffled oaths, and the clippety-clop of Thunder trotting down toward the main gateway. There–as best she could tell by the unruly, hopping, milling confusion–he had chomped a warrior’s backside, stepped on another’s toes, and now had the whole watch spread across the gardens, arms outstretched, trying to corral him. Thunder was leading them a merry chase.

  With a heavy bag in each hand, Siltam strapped to her back, a long dagger and two throwing-knives at her waist, and her bow and quiver full of arrows to top it all off, Shioni felt she must resemble an ove
rloaded donkey as she hobbled grimly down the pathway. With every step she prayed that the warriors would be so preoccupied with Thunder that she could slip by unnoticed. Here was the gateway. Just a few steps through and she would be safe…

  “Where you going?”

  “Oh–Kifle! You nearly killed me.”

  His sharp eyes darted over her load and back to her face. His expression, at another time, might have been comical. “I’d better not ask. Go. I didn’t see you.” Turning, Kifle ran up into Mama’s garden to join the group of gesticulating, grumbling warriors! Shioni shook her head. Only a good friend would be that crazy.

  Outside! Outside the castle walls, for the first time in days. Strange how she felt as though she’d stepped out from beneath sheltering wings into a dangerous darkness…

  The night sky was a princess richly dressed for a banquet, with her pearl-sprinkled tresses cast across the great, deep void. The thought that someone had so far been watching over her hare-brained escapade came to Shioni’s mind, and comforted her. By the time she had hiked down to the river trail, she heard Thunder’s hoof beats rushing up from behind. She had never been so relieved by the idea that she would be off her feet soon. Her injured foot was one throbbing mess. She hated to think what she might be doing to her chances of healing up properly–but this was more important.

  “The warriors are following!” he neighed, skidding to a hoof-sparking stop next to her.

  Shioni tossed the saddlebags over his back and mounted up. Talaku’s unwieldy axe nearly caused her to fall off again, but she managed to get everything arranged somehow.

  As Thunder moved off downriver, a voice shrilled from the left saddlebag, “You clumsy oaf! I’m being squashed like a fruit in here!”

  “Zi!” Laugh, or scream? Shioni could not decide. “You… you rotten little stowaway!”

  Rumpled and looking much the worse for wear, Azurelle squeezed out from beneath the buckled-down flap. She shot Shioni a withering glare. “Fancy. Here I am looking after my friend, who is off on another fool’s errand, and this is the kind of welcome I get? Ha!”