by M. D. Grimm
William managed to stay awake long enough to take a hot shower, smear on lotion, then sit on his bed. Despite the fatigue, he didn’t think he’d sleep. But he did, only minutes later.
***
William was in a daze the next day. He completed his duties mechanically, his mind elsewhere. Father Adler noticed and questioned him. William claimed he hadn’t gotten much sleep. It wasn’t a complete lie, and he knew to profess the truth would be a huge mistake.
As he raked the leaves and tended the vegetation in the courtyard, he looked up at the gargoyles more than he could admit, even to himself. He could almost believe the events of the previous night hadn’t happened—the gargoyles were in the same position as they’d always been. And when he’d walked up the bell tower to look at them up close, he couldn’t see them as living, breathing creatures. But the profound satisfaction of his body couldn’t be denied, and he’d never been a fanciful man who daydreamed or had wild sex dreams at night. Besides, stone debris still littered the balcony, though neither statue was cracked or crumbling. William could only tell himself that tonight he would learn for certain if the gargoyles were only in his head or if they were real.
When the sun began to set, William made sure Father Adler was comfortable before walking as fast as he was able to the bell tower. He climbed the steps, heart pounding and breath coming short. Had his sanity snapped or were Castor and Pollux real?
A psychiatrist would say he’d projected the journal’s craziness onto his own psyche and that last night was merely a dream, a culmination of his obsession with the journal. He’d find out one way or another.
The sun fully sank below the horizon as he reached the top. William leaned against the wall and watched in awe as cracks began to appear in the stone statues. They spread out like spider webs, racing to cover the entirety of the gargoyles. Distinctive snaps resounded in the air, and then the stone flew off, revealing pale flesh underneath. Castor and Pollux gave short roars before standing tall and stretching, their tails whipping this way and that. Leathery wings spread, mesmerizing William.
Castor turned first and a wide grin spread across his face, his blue eyes flashing with obvious joy. “Wilhelm.”
Pollux whipped his head around, a nearly identical smile appearing. They both leapt lightly off the railing, their wings fluttering. William pushed himself away from the wall and, without thinking, gripped Castor behind his head and brought their mouths together. Cool lips quickly warmed under his and Castor purred in pleasure, his strong hand cupping William’s hip. Before William could become too deeply enthralled in Castor, he broke the kiss and grabbed Pollux, giving him the same treatment. He had to angle his head differently to keep from impaling himself on those vicious horns, but Pollux made it easy, shifting his head the other way. Pollux purred deeply as well, wrapping his arm around William’s waist. The gargoyles pressed against his sides, and their expressions were of open adoration.
“I thought I imagined you,” he said softly. Then he grabbed their erections, one in each hand, stroking steadily. Castor got his weakened hand but didn’t seem put out by it. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice at all.
Castor shuddered and nuzzled his neck. “We are real.”
Pollux threaded his fingers through William’s hair before massaging his skull. A shiver went down William’s spine.
“And we are yours,” Pollux said close to his ear.
Castor pressed his hand against William’s chest, right above his heart. Pollux covered Castor’s hand. A lump formed in William’s throat.
“Good,” he said on a breath of sound. “I need you.”
Their wings wrapped around him, cocooning him once again.
“You have us,” Castor said. He caressed William’s scarred face, and William closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed with their acceptance and desire.
Pollux nodded. “We will protect you.”
William smiled and kissed them both again. “I love you.”
Castor whimpered and held him close.
Pollux grinned. “Prove it.”
William raised an eyebrow, matching Pollux’s lascivious grin. This was truly his safe haven, and he would forever thank the Fates for leading him to this place. To these gargoyles…. His guardians.
“Happy to.”
###
A Giant’s Friend
For three years, Jeth and Kodie and their soldiers have guarded a hostile mountain pass against the invading Dathians in a war that has waged for decades. Jeth has the blood of giants running through his veins, and it has caused bigotry and death to dog his steps his entire life. After a childhood tragedy shatters his world, it takes the courage and loyalty of his best friend, Kodie, to protect him from himself. Jeth knows he’s a danger to everyone around him, and joins the army to control and focus the black rage inherited from his bestial bloodline.
Kodie follows his friend into the army, determined to stay close to the one he loves most. He has never revealed his deeper feelings for Jeth and is ignorant of Jeth’s own feelings. Their bond is too precious for either of them to risk rejection. Yet they might have to take the chance when Kodie’s life is threatened, and their enemy forges an alliance with a giant clan. Jeth must call upon his darker heritage to brave the hostile environment to make an alliance of his own—with a giant clan that knows more about him than he does himself.
***
This story was originally published by Torquere Press back in 2011. It had a lot of issues with it that didn’t get resolved during the editing process, and I regret that. One cruel reviewer decided to point out every single flaw, and I felt skewered and flayed alive. You see, it was my first published book, and I was terrified and excited. Then I was sliced to bits by her sharp tongue and only managed to limp along by sheer force of will. I never did manage to read her entire review. I decided not to flog myself with her merciless opinions.
I have certainly grown as a writer. I know I have. I can only continue to grow and become increasingly better and stronger. And I believe it’s time to use the skills I’ve learned to tear this book apart and put it back together so it shines as it was always meant to.
This story will always hold a special place in my heart because it opened up the world of publishing for me. It gave me the confidence to follow my dreams, to run down that path at full speed, and if I crash into walls, well, then I will make it a spectacular crash that sheds blood and tears. I won’t be stopped. I won’t allow anyone that power of me and my muse. Writing is a part of who I am, it’s part of my soul. I am a storyteller, and I have many stories to tell.
This second edition of “A Giant’s Friend” has been fully revised from top to bottom and expanded and polished until it shines. I truly hope you enjoy it, whether you were brave enough to purchase the original or are coming to the story for the first time.
It is what it is. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. Take it or leave it, the choice is yours.
Chapter One
Kodie led the charge through the thick snow and brutal wind. He wouldn’t grant the fleeing Dathian soldiers mercy, not this time. He shouted at his soldiers to keep going, keep pursuing. They pounded down the rough trail, the land and weather unforgiving and cruel to all sides. Every enemy soldier he reached, Kodie cut down with his sword and axe, and his soldiers were every bit as determined.
Yet so intent was he on pursing the enemy, he only realized where they were when it was too late. The frozen lake cracked under their feet, and he ordered at his troops to halt. Unfortunately, the battle frenzy held many in sway, and they continued to run, stomping on the ice, weakening it.
He yelled at them. “Stop! Halt!”
The cracks deepened, then spread like spider webs under the feet of Dathians and Senicians alike. Kodie managed to grab a few of his own soldiers and yanked them back, but too many were beyond help. The ice broke, upended, sending many into the frigid water.
“No!” He could only watch as nearly half of his unit disapp
eared under the ice. He and those by his side managed to drag a handful of soldiers out of the water. The rest were gone. Far beyond hope.
Bracing his hands on his knees, Kodie stared wide-eyed at the disaster. Soon the lake was calm again, serene and deadly like a sleeping saberwolf. All the Dathian soldiers had perished, but that was small comfort. One of his soldiers wailed, a woman named Skadha. She ripped off her helmet and fell to her knees, keening in sorrow. Several more women took up the keen and he let them. The dead would not get a proper burial. At least they would be given the respect of the keen.
Kodie straightened and pushed his long blond hair out of his eyes. It hung in small braids as was the custom of his people, but it was forever tangled. He hated the cold and snow. He hated these mountains. He hated all of this.
“A storm’s coming in,” Dagur said. His beard was long and thick as Kodie’s own, obscuring half his face. “We need to leave, Commander.”
“I know.” Yet he let the women finish their keen. When they fell silent and stood, he waved to those left and pointed back the way they’d come. Their breaths fanned out in front of their faces, and Kodie let the wounded lead, then the able women and men, then he brought up the rear. He kept looking over his shoulder, wishing the images and screams of the dying would leave his mind. Wishing to travel back in time and stop his soldiers before the edge of that accursed lake. He’d been stationed on the Curllun mountain for three years, and he was still learning the terrain, and moments like this reminded him he should do more of the scouting personally.
Curllun Mountain was the highest peak of the Lash Mountain Range, and it was named after the man who had successfully navigated it centuries ago. Curllun discovered the only safe pass through the range and settled in what was now Senica, and founded a small village that quickly grew into the capital city of Thuron, where the king sat. The range cleanly divided the kingdom of Senica and the neighboring Dathia.
Kodie’s half of the Senician army guarded that pass against Dathian invasion. The insane, genocidal king of Dathia wanted more land, more slaves, so he threw every resource at conquering Senica. But the dangerous mountains and thickly fortified ports at sea, along with Senica’s superior fleet, blocked his forward motion. That didn’t stop him in the least. For generations the kingdoms had been at war, though the bloodshed increased when King Kurmain had taken the throne decades earlier. It needed to end, somehow. Someday. Kodie just hoped it was before the extinction of the human species.
Kodie followed his troops into the cave where they camped and knew he’d have to report this failure to his general. He winced and glanced at the sky, observing the dark clouds, feeling the sharp cut of the wind. He considered it a failure despite the dead enemy. All his brothers and sisters in arms lost. Grief clutched his breast. He fought against it and walked into the cave, determined to tend to the wounded. He wouldn’t lose anyone else.
***
Kodie stared at the ground, shivering. He pulled his cloak closer, knowing it wouldn’t help much. Even his thick breeches and fur-lined cloak barely muted the frigid punch. He stood inside his general’s tent, waiting for a response. He’d reported his actions as duty commanded and shame filled every word. Ignorance and battle greed lost them good soldiers. Such was the burden of command.
He led most of the soldiers back to main camp and sent another small unit to relieve those left behind in the cave. There were other such temporary camps pocketed around the only trail known to bisect the Lash Mountains. Senician soldiers kept an eye on several parts of the trail to make sure Dathians didn’t get too far. A few Senician scouts reported other trails that could also be used to scale the mountains but they were far more hazardous. Yet Kodie wouldn’t put it past the Dathians, and their king, to grow desperate and use them.
There was yet another looming threat in those mountains beyond the weather, deadly terrain, and enemy soldiers: giants. Both mountain and ice giants thrived up here, so close to the clouds and frozen sky. Yet after generations of the army stationed on the mountains, not once had giants given them any attention. Kodie was thankful for that. The very last thing they needed was to be noticed by those enormous beasts.
“You didn’t know the lake was there.” His general’s voice was deep and rough, and though he spoke softly, Kodie knew he could trumpet his words over large distances.
Kodie looked at his general’s back and swallowed hard. “I did, sir. I am ashamed to say I did. But I didn’t realize we were standing on the blasted lake until it was too late. It was only when the ice cracked under my feet did I come to my senses and order the troops back.”
Little good it did.
“It was careless, Kodie. You were careless, and we lost soldiers because of it.”
“Yes, sir.” Kodie grimaced. He stared at the general’s hunched back as he leaned over the table, over the map held down with rocks. Despite his rank, their general had few comforts. They were nearly all equals up here, where survival was a daily struggle. They depended on each other for food and warmth. Without trust and loyalty, they would all perish.
Furs blanketed the floor at the back of the tent, indicating the sleeping area. The table was the only piece of furniture, and Kodie knew the map was continually being added to, every time a scout reported new cliffs, lakes, or peaks. Apparently, units before them hadn’t deemed that a worthy endeavor, and Kodie always cursed them for their carelessness. Previous units had been lulled into complacency by long periods of inactivity. With King Kurmain all that changed.
The general straightened as much as the tent would allow. Around eight feet tall, General Jeth was intimidating and powerful, broad and vicious. Kodie also knew he could be gentle and playful, and would even sing when he was in the mood.
They’d been friends for twenty years. Good friends. Brothers. Due to that bond, Kodie felt his failure more acutely.
Jeth turned around, and Kodie straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. He stood over six feet himself, taller than anyone of his acquaintance. It was humbling to be near Jeth and feel dwarfed, though he was mostly used to it, since Jeth had always been taller and broader than him.
With black hair, onyx eyes, and dark skin, Jeth was a sight to behold. His heavy, thick brow gave him a perpetually angry expression, and the brutish structure of his face and body indicated his deadly heritage. Giant blood ran through his veins, and it gave him strength, height, and imperviousness to cold. He also retained their darker nature. Their black rage.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Jeth said. “But I can hardly throw any stones. More than anyone here, I know what it is to be lost in battle frenzy.”
Their eyes met, sharing a tragic memory that still haunted them both.
“I’m sorry, Jeth,” Kodie whispered.
“I know.” Jeth stepped closer and pulled Kodie into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. Kodie locked his arm around Jeth’s waist, taking deep breaths of his scent, and it calmed him, warmed him inside-out. He indulged himself for a moment and buried his face against Jeth’s chest. Jeth’s body was always a furnace, and for the first time in years, Kodie felt warm.
Jeth could easily crush him without much effort, but Kodie’s trust in his friend was absolute. Long past was any fear that Jeth would hurt him. Physically, at least.
“We will get through this. We will survive this, or so help me, we die, taking as many of those bastards with us as possible.”
Kodie smiled. “Damn right.”
Jeth pulled back, and Kodie nearly clutched him tighter, wanting to stay in that safe, warm cocoon for the rest of his life. He called himself pathetic and forced his arms to drop, forced his expression blank. Jeth gently tugged his beard and Kodie snorted. Playing along, Kodie reached up and tugged Jeth’s thick, bushy beard. Jeth grinned, white teeth flashing.
“The women keened,” Kodie said, returning to sober events. “The dead got that much.”
“Good.”
“General!” a soldier shouted from beyo
nd the tent.
“Enter.”
A young soldier, one of the newer recruits, stumbled in, pale under his helmet. “Smoke was seen near the next rise. One of our scouts moved closer and claimed it was a small squadron of Dathian soldiers. She—she swore she saw green feathers in their helmets.”
Damn. Those were the elite warriors of Dathia, known as fendras. The king’s personal guard and often employed as assassins. What were they doing on these gods’ forsaken mountains? The king truly had grown desperate.
“A few of our soldiers stayed behind to watch their activity. Perhaps they wait until night to ambush us.”
Jeth shook his head, stroking his beard. “No. This must be a ploy.”
Kodie agreed. The elite warriors wouldn’t be so easily spotted if they didn’t want to be. That meant they either wanted to be noticed or they weren’t actually the elite and simply wore the green feathers as a trick. Either way it was smarter to observe them for a while.
“It is too obvious,” Jeth concluded, his line of thinking parallel with Kodie’s. He turned to Kodie. “We will increase our night watchers and make sure they are always observed. Tell the soldiers to stay a sensible distance away. We can’t afford to lose any more.”
Kodie barely avoided a wince. He merely nodded and gestured for the scout to leave. He took a deep breath. “The rest of my unit should return by daybreak. We can send out another scouting party, north this time. I thought about going with them and—”
“No.”
Kodie looked up and blinked in surprise. “May I ask why not?”
