by Tiger Hebert
“So, you can’t do anything with it?” asked Vacinne.
“Nope. We need another solution,” he said.
Vacinne pulled out her sword. “No problem. I’ll just cut our way out.”
“No!” said Renlar with both hands up, urging her to stop.
Vacinne gave him a questioning look but stayed her blade.
Renlar leaned closer. “Even if we could get out right now, without some form of distraction, we will just be caught again. We need to formulate a full plan before you cut us free.”
“If we wait too long, it’s going to be too late.”
“Their king said they were having a feast. Look,” said Renlar as he pointed to the activity just a little way off from their cage. “They are just now starting to prepare.”
Vacinne realized he was right. All the sparing and weapon forging that was going on before had indeed stopped. Now dozens of giants moved about carrying tables and chairs. Others began to stack logs in piles for the fires. Large kettles were filled with water from the stream that flowed down from one of the mountain’s ice caps. It was a beehive of activity. Then she saw something that she’d never thought to witness in her entire life.
Vacinne’s arm shot forward, her fingers pointing to an object that was being carried toward the center of the soon to be festivities. “Look!”
Renlar’s head snapped that way to see something he never expected. “A dragon egg!”
The egg must have been three feet tall. Its marbled shell was a lovely marbling of cobalt and aquamarine with white streaks across the entire surface. Its surface glistened with brilliance in the rays of the still rising sun.
“It’s stunning,” said Vacinne.
“Yes, and it’s why momma was flying overhead yesterday. She wasn’t looking for us, she was looking for her egg!”
“Do you think she’ll come back?” asked Vacinne.
“Dragons do not take their offspring lightly. They are fiercely protective of them. Even evil dragons have an incredibly powerful bond with their offspring. She will be back. Let’s hope she returns before it’s too late,” explained Renlar.
“That could be our way out, that could be our distraction,” shouted Vacinne with a little too much excitement. The nearest giant turned and roared before kicking the crate. The crate didn’t bust, but the kick was strong enough to cause their prison to rock back and topple over. The two of them were thrown backward as their cell fell backward. Renlar reached out and tried to catch Vacinne as they fell. He landed flat on his back once more. Vacinne twisted as she fell. She landed in his arms. The impact, with her added weight, drove the air clear from his lungs.
Vacinne said nothing as he caught her, but her face reddened slightly before she realized that he was gasping. She quickly rolled off his chest.
“Are you okay?” she asked, worry in her voice.
For a moment he fought to catch his breath, then he took a deep breath. He said nothing for a few seconds as he simply enjoyed a handful of natural breaths.
“I... I didn’t mean to land on you,” she said in a clumsy manner.
“You’re fine. I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he managed to say.
She climbed to her feet and extended a hand. He took it and she helped pull him to his feet. Then awkwardly she shook his hand, before letting go. It was weird, and she knew it, but didn’t know what else to do. She turned away so she didn’t have to face him.
You’re an idiot, she reminded herself.
Renlar’s breathing returned to normal and he said, “Okay, so let’s not try to catch their attention again. It proves to be harmful. But yes, I think if the dragon returns again, she could be our ticket out of here...”
Then he gave a long pause, “—if she doesn’t kill us too.”
“We didn’t steal her egg! We didn’t have anything to do with it,” said Vacinne.
“How do you plan on telling her that? Dragons are one of the most intelligent beasts in the world, but they are still instinctual creatures, not intellectual ones. Our best bet when she shows up? Run for our lives!”
Now they would have to wait and hope and pray by the gods that this mother dragon would return before the celebration was set to begin. Time passed slowly as they stood there watching the preparations from their crate. The fires now burned, the cauldrons were heating, and lots of different types of hunted game was brought out. They brought forth bear, elk, and mountain sheep. Lots of mountain sheep. The dead beasts were all prepared for slaughter. From a Frost Giant perspective, this feast would be grand.
“What do you know about the Frost Giants?” asked Vacinne, the curiosity evident in her voice.
Renlar spoke low as to keep his voice down. “Frost Giants are an ancient race that resulted from inter-breeding. Long ago, the giants and ice trolls battled each other for control of these mountains. The giants were no match for the ice trolls. The trolls were an incredible race of truly savage monsters. They hunted the giants to near extinction. The male giants were murdered, and the females were spared, for lack of a better term. See, ice troll females were incredibly rare. So, the giant females were kept in captivity for breeding. The bloodlines were crossed. What you see here is the result of that cross breeding from thousands of years ago.”
“That is awful,” said Vacinne with a cringe.
Renlar said, “Indeed it is, and these mountains have been plagued with their kind ever since.”
“So, these are the ones that destroyed Esboralis,” said Vacinne.
“Most likely. If not them, then another tribe.”
“What human kingdom would stand a chance?” asked Vacinne in horror.
“Few could, but there are some. The Wardens could easily withstand a Frost Giant assault, and perhaps the towering city of High Crown if their forces were not spread too thin. Though there is one kind that these giants steer clear of... Dwarves. They are terrified of those little bastards,” said Renlar with a laugh.
“Why?”
“To be honest, I’ve no earthly idea, but they are frightened by them. Frost Giants won’t even go near Drenamere, not within a dozen leagues. It’s too bad the dwarves never took over these mountains, they might of have driven the Frost Giants out completely,” said Renlar as he continued to tug on one of the boards of their prison, although it refused to budge.
“I wonder why dwarves though?” asked Vacinne.
“Well, if we ever make it to Drenamere, maybe we shall find out,” said Renlar.
Their conversation came to an abrupt end as they saw Valjin, the chieftain, make his way toward them. Vacinne’s heart began to pound as her terror grew. Valjin made his way past the preparations and stalked directly toward them. The other giants scrambled to get out of his way, lest they invoke his wrath. A handful of strides later, and he had closed the distance to their cage. He bent down and peered into their prison.
His voice crashed upon them like an avalanche. “As you can see, we have a celebration planned, but it is not for you little ones, but rather for my glory. The frost giants have won a major victory these past days. If you should look behind me, you will see the egg of a white dragon.”
His wicked eyes beamed with pride. “Dragons have long been an enemy of my people. That war changes today with that egg. As that baby dragon is born, it is born into the Frost Giant tribe. It will grow with us, it will eat with us, and learn with us, and it will serve us. It will be our dragon, and it will be the first of many.”
Renlar asked, “Then why have you brought us here?”
The giant roared, “You have trespassed on our lands. And I do not take kindly to those who are so brazen as to think that they may pass freely through my kingdom. You did not seek that I grant you passage; therefore, you’ve broken our laws.”
With boldness, Renlar replied, “To seek your permission would have also required us to cross your boundary and to come even deeper into your own territory, would it not? Either way, we would have broken your law, correct?”
Valjin laughed, “This is correct.”
“There would never have been a means for us to pass over your glorious mountains,” said Renlar.
“Correct again, little one,” said Valjin with a crooked smile.
Vacinne spoke up, “We meant no offense mighty King Valjin, we were merely hunting a demon who went through the old tunnel below the mountain.”
At the word demon, the Frost Giant reflexively shrank back for a second. Then he tried to act as if he were unconcerned.
Valjin asked, “If the demon went under the mountain, why didn’t you follow?”
Renlar replied, “We did, but the exit was blocked. We couldn’t pass through the other side.”
Vacinne had picked up on how he responded the first time though. “The demon was a vorthor. It turned the entire tunnel into a hatchery. It was full of eggs. Thousands of eggs. They began to hatch.”
She watched the giant grow uncomfortable with each mention of the otherworldly creatures. She pressed her advantage. “We had to flee the tunnel, so we could seal it shut. We brought down an avalanche that sealed the tunnel closed. It was the only way to ensure we could kill them all.”
Vacinne stopped there and watched as Valjin visibly relaxed.
He clearly doesn’t like the demons. I think he might even be afraid of them, she thought.
“The avalanche yesterday was because of you?” Valjin asked.
“It was,” replied Vacinne.
Valjin asked, “The tunnel is sealed? Completely?”
“From both sides,” answered Vacinne with a nod.
“But you said one escaped?” asked Valjin.
Renlar jumped in, “Yes, that is why you need to let us go so we can hunt it down and kill it before it lays more eggs.”
The Frost Giant grimaced but tilted his dragon skull cap back a bit so he could scratch his scalp. He said nothing for a long minute. His distrusting eyes glanced back and forth between Renlar and Vacinne over and over again. He was contemplating. Perhaps it was the validity of their story, or perhaps it was whether or not they would taste good in a stew. Vacinne didn’t know, but they had definitely given him something to consider.
The silence ended with a grunt, then Valjin stood up. He towered high above them at well over thirty feet in height. He looked down on them and glowered.
“Please,” begged Renlar, “Let us go hunt down the vorthor demon. Let us drive our blades through its blackened heart, so we can send it back to the pits of hell where it came from.”
Valjin shook his head. “No. You stay with us. Puny humans can’t kill demons. Demons too strong. This is final.”
The chieftain turned to walk away.
Vacinne yelled, “What do you want with us? You have your feast and your dragon, so what do you want with us?”
Valjin stopped in his tracks. Without turning back toward them, he said, “Frost Giants tell many great stories, but no one listens. Everyone listens to the tales humans tell. You will witness this day the triumph of the Frost Giants over the dragons. This day, you will witness my victory. You will tell the victory in words, you will tell it in song, and you will tell it in books for all the world to hear. It will be the human story of the Frost Giants, and their mighty king, Valjin, the Dragon Hunter.”
“We are no bards! We are not ones who sing songs and tell tall tales!” shouted Renlar.
Valjin nodded his head. “You are now.”
Then the giant stormed off with haste.
Vacinne shuddered as fear and despair grappled for control of her heart and mind once more. Renlar’s hand found her shoulder and it squeezed.
Quietly he whispered, “Take heart Vacinne LeDroux, our day is not done.”
She would have a hard time trusting his words. They were trapped, and they were surrounded by enemies that they couldn’t run from and they certainly couldn’t fight. There were no words that could make those realities disappear, yet there was a quiet confidence in his words. She fought back tears as she turned back toward him. He didn’t look at her. His eyes remained fixated on the frost giant king who lumbered away from them. She saw a resolve in those eyes, and an eerie focus.
Maybe I can’t trust words alone, but I see something in those eyes that I trust. I have no idea what, but it’s there.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, and she steeled herself with a newfound resolve that they would find a way out of this. One way or another, they would make it out alive. Renlar would see to it. She just knew it. Then, as if he heard her thoughts, he nodded and smiled off into the distance.
Murderous words left his lips, “Valjin, your reign is over.”
12
Ice Storm
The day had slipped past, and the sun was already disappearing to the west. The celebrations had been going for a while as the frost giants had begun to eat and drink. Barrels and barrels of ale, likely stolen from human villages, had already been drunk. The crude creatures would then urinate into the barrels until they were full. Then they’d take turns seeing who could toss the piss-filled barrels the furthest off the mountain side. The wooden barrels would smash somewhere a hundred or even a thousand feet below, spilling its contents across the mountainside, painting the snow yellow.
It was as primitive as you could get, and it amused them to no end. Vacinne shook her head in disgust.
“They truly are wretched things.”
Renlar agreed, “You think this is bad, wait until the alcohol really sets in and they start to get randy.”
“What? Oh gross. Now that is not something anyone should have to see!” said Vacinne with genuine disgust.
Renlar chuckled. “We’ll have our opportunity soon. It’s very near.”
Vacinne turned toward him. “How can you tell?”
“I... I just know. I can feel it. Whatever it is, we need to be prepared,” he said with a voice part anticipation, part warning.
She’d learned to recognized when Renlar was on to something. This was one of those times. She made sure her supply pack was secured and that her shield and Ashthorill Blade were at the ready. Then they heard it. It was the cry of a mother dragon—and she was angry.
The revelry among the giants stopped as fear swept over the crowd. They looked frightened, and some even looked like they were about to run for cover. Then in the midst of the chaos, a frost giant shaman climbed atop one of the large tables. Food was carelessly kicked aside as she got her footing. The old hag thrust her staff into the air. It looked like an old withered pine tree with its branches snapped and peeled away. A dozen foul charms made of leather cord and the skulls of different beasts hung from it.
The old woman stood as tall as her naked, aging body could. She was covered with the same white paint that covered Valjin, yet it covered her from head to toe. Her wrinkled and sagging breasts were concealed only by the thick, cracked layers of the paint. She met the darkening evening sky with fierce blue eyes and a strange incantation. Unknown words of an old tongue commanded the elements.
“What is she doing?” asked Vacinne.
“I don’t know what she’s saying, but she’s casting a spell in the old ice troll tongue,” he answered.
The dragon’s distant roar echoed over the mountain top and filled the denizens of Frizjarda with fear. Yet the old shaman worked her spell. Soon dark clouds rushed in from all directions.
She was hiding them.
The dragon’s roar sounded again. She was closer now. Vacinne realized the cloud canopy threatened to keep them and the dragon’s egg hidden from her.
“No, we can’t let this happen. She must find us!” shouted Vacinne. She was right.
Renlar’s hands moved into a slow but deliberate sequence, and his mouth uttered words unknown to Vacinne. The wind began to stir at his command.
“Yes, you can do this,” said Vacinne.
The cold wind surged across the mountain top. The violent gust blew things this way and that as it sought out the cloud cover. The wind ripped right through the dark clouds.
The shaman’s sorcery was not to be outdone so easily though. She held fast to her incantation, and with every attempt to blow the clouds away, she fought to draw them close. Up above the clouds, the dragon roared as she flew over head, right past them. Renlar fought to disperse the clouds, but the old hag countered him again, sealing the newest gap in the cloud cover.
Renlar pulled a dagger from his vest and tossed it into the air. The wind grabbed a hold of it and launched it forward. The black dagger flew with haste at the shaman. She saw it, but it was too late. The dagger caught her in the throat. Her chanting was cut short. She dropped her staff and clutched at her wound. Blood sprayed the table and the giants down below her. She fell to her knees. As the blood departed her body in spurts, she slumped over and fell lifeless from the table.
Renlar bid the blade return, and then put all his will into blowing the cloud cover open. The wind pierced a hole in the canopy, and it began to peel it open from the center outward. A deafening roar followed. A great white dragon shot down through the opening. Frost Giants scrambled about in preparation for battle.
The white dragon turned sharply toward the first giant it saw. Icy breath exploded from its deadly maw. Jets of frost breath crystallized the giant instantly. Its frozen statue was a testament to the dragon’s power. The dragon flew out of sight, only to return in the blink of any eye. It flew faster than a loosed arrow, over the village square, blasting the icy breath of death over the crowd. Eight frost giants met their fate in that instant, but the ferocity of the tribe was frightening to witness. Despite their terror, they attacked. Blue steel spears took flight, and axes were prepared to strike.
“Vacinne, now!”
Renlar’s voice snapped her out of the trance she was in. The dragon was terrible and magnificent all at once, and she’d been transfixed.
“Cut us out of here!” he screamed.
Her blade was already whipped from its sheath, and she slashed at the boards. Her blade cut the planks of their wooden prison with ease. She kicked at the boards and they crashed to the frozen ground. They were free. She climbed through the opening and Renlar followed.
