Yet that seemed to be enough. The monster’s hand clutched Sithas’s foot. Even as the elf kicked and flailed frantically, one of the rocks teetered precariously on the brink of a fall.
The Speaker of the Stars braced his back against one of the rocks and pressed both of his boots against the other. Calling for the blessings of every god he could think of, he pushed outward, straining and gasping to move the monstrous weight.
Slowly, almost gradually, the huge boulder toppled forward. The giant stared upward, his beady eyes nearly bulging out of his skull as the huge load slid forward, then began to roll downward. Tons of rock crushed the life from the brute as the boulder broke free.
His foothold suddenly gone, Sithas slid downward in the wake of the crashing stone. He felt a sickening crunch in the earth and looked up to see the other rock also break free to crash toward the valley floor a thousand feet below. Desperately the elf sprang to one side, feeling the ground shake as the huge stone tumbled past him.
The sounds of the rockslide grew and echoed, seeming to shake the bedrock of the world. Sithas pressed his face into the ground, trying to cling with his hands as the entire wall of the pass fell away. The thunderous volume overwhelmed him, and he expected to be swept away at any second. But now the gods looked kindly on the Speaker of the Stars, and though the cliff wall a scant twelve inches from his hand plunged below, the rock to which Sithas clung remained fixed, miraculously, to the ridge.
The world crashed and surged around Sithas for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was no more than a few minutes. When he finally opened his eyes, blinking away the dust and grime, he looked down at a scene of complete devastation.
A dust cloud had settled across the formerly pristine snowfields, casting the entire valley in a dirty gray hue. The surface of the cliff gaped like a fresh scar where scree and talus, even great chunks of bedrock, had torn away. He could see none of the twelve giants, but it seemed inconceivable that any of them could have lived through that massive, crushing avalanche.
The pass was now even steeper than it had been when he climbed it, but the entire surface was clear of snow, and the rock that remained was solid mountain. Thus he had little difficulty in picking his way painstakingly down the thousand feet of descent to the valley floor.
Near the bottom, he came upon the body of one of the giants. The creature was half-buried in rubble and covered with dust.
Sithas stepped carefully along the slope, using handholds to maintain his balance, until he reached the motionless body of the giant. The creature hung over a sharp outcrop of rock, looking like a rag doll that someone had casually cast aside. When the elf reached the monster, he examined it more closely. He saw that it wore boots of heavy fur and a tunic of bearskin. The creature’s beard was long but sparsely grown, adding to the straggled and unkempt appearance of its face. The great mouth hung slackly open, and its long, floppy tongue protruded. Several broken teeth studded its gums alongside a single well-formed tusk of ivory in front. Sithas found himself feeling a spontaneous reaction of compassion as he looked at the pathetic visage. His reaction changed instantly to alarm when the giant moved, reaching out with one trunklike arm toward him. The elf stepped nervously backward, his longsword in his hand.
Then the giant groaned, smacking his lips and snorting in discomfort before finally forcing open the lid of one blank, bloodshot eye. The eye stared straight at the elf.
Sithas froze. His instincts, as soon as the beast had moved, had urged him to drive his keen steel blade into the creature’s throat or its heart. However, some inner emotion, surprising the elf with its strong compulsion, had held his hand. The blade remained poised before the giant’s face, a foot from the end of its blunt and swollen nose, but Sithas didn’t drive it home. Instead, he studied the creature as it opened its other eye. The two orbs crossed ludicrously as it appeared to study the keen steel so close to its face. Slowly the bloodshot orbs came into focus. Sithas sensed the giant tensing, and he knew that he should slay it, if it wasn’t already too late! Misgivings assailed him.
Still he held firm. The giant scowled, still trying to understand what had happened, what was going on. Finally the realization came, with a reaction that took Sithas completely by surprise. The monster yelped—a high-pitched gasp of fright—and tried to squirm backward away from the elf and the weapon. A large boulder blocked its retreat, and the beast cowered against the rock, raising its massive fists as if to ward away a blow. Sithas took a step forward, and when the beast cried out again, he lowered his blade, bemused by the strange behavior.
Sithas made a casual gesture with his sword. The giant raised its hands to protect its face and grunted something in a crude tongue. Again Sithas was struck by the one perfect tooth bobbing up and down amongst the otherwise ragged gums.
The problem remained of what to do with it. Letting the brute just wander away seemed like an unacceptable risk.
Yet Sithas couldn’t kill it out of hand, now that it cowered and gibbered at him. It didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore, despite its huge size.
“Hey, One-Tooth. Stand up!” The elf gestured with his blade, and after several moments, the giant climbed hesitantly to its feet.
The creature loomed ten feet or more tall, with a barrel-sized chest and stout, sinew-lined limbs. One-Tooth gaped pathetically at Sithas as the elf nodded, pleased. He gestured again with his sword, this time down the pass, toward the valley.
“Come on, you lead the way,” he instructed the giant. They started down the mountain, with Sithas keeping his sword ready.
But One-tooth seemed perfectly content to shuffle along ahead of the elf. On the ground, Sithas found it a great boon to follow in the footsteps of the giant, rather than break his own trail through the snow. Following an elaborate pantomime, he showed One-Tooth how to drag his feet when he walked, thus making a deeper and smoother path for the elf.
He directed the giant toward the ledge where Kith-Kanan lay helpless. At the bottom, before they picked their way up the steep, treacherous trail, Sithas turned back to the giant.
“I want you to carry him,” he explained. He cradled his arms as if he was carrying an infant and pointed to the ledge above them. “Do you understand?” The giant squinted at the elf, his eyes shrinking to tiny dots of bloodshot concentration. He looked upward.
Then his eyes widened, as if someone had just opened the shutters to a dark, little-used room. His mouth gaped happily, and the tooth bobbed up and down in enthusiastic comprehension.
“I hope so,” Sithas muttered, not entirely confident about what he was doing. Now the elf led the way, working his way up the narrow trail until he reached the ledge that had sequestered his brother.
“Well done, Brother!” Kith-Kanan was sitting upright, his back against the cliff wall and his face creased by a grin of amazed delight. “I saw them coming, and I figured that was the end!”
“That thought crossed my mind as well,” admitted Sithas. Kith looked at him with an admiring expression Sithas had never seen in his brother’s eyes before. “You could have been killed, you know!” Sithas laughed self-consciously, feeling a warm sense of pride. “I can’t let you have all the fun.”
Kith smiled, his eyes shining. “Thanks, Brother!” Clearing his throat, he nodded at One-Tooth. “But what is this—a prisoner or friend? And what idea do you have now?” “We’re going to the next valley,” Sithas replied. “I couldn’t find a horse, so you’ll have to ride a giant!”
15
The rains beat across a sea of canvas, a drumming, monotonous cadence that marked time during winter on the plains. Gray skies stretched over the brown land, encloaked by air that changed from fog to downpour to icy mist. If only it would freeze! This was the wish of every soldier in the army who had to stand guard, conduct drills, or make the arduous treks to distant woods for firewood or lumber. A hard frost would solidify the viscous earth that now churned underfoot, miring wagon wheels and making the simple act of walking an exhaustive struggle.