Feldrin Feldspar was in the west tower when the giant appeared. He heard the commotion and came outside in time to see the monster plowing through his workers’ homes.
“By Reorx!” he shouted. “What is that thing?” No one stopped to answer his question, though he bellowed at his scattering people to stand and fight. The dwarf stood at the base of the west tower, shouting, until Merith appeared, mounted and in full battle armor.
“What do you propose, warrior?” Feldrin said, yelling above the uproar.
“Repel the monster,” Merith replied simply. He drew his long elven blade. His buckskin horse pranced nervously, upset by the tumult around them.
“That’s no natural beast!” Feldrin cried. “You’d be better off to find Drulethen. He’s got to be behind this!”
“You find him,” replied Merith. His horse turned a full circle. Touching his spurs to his mount’s side, Merith was off, moving against the flow of terrified workers. All the artisans and laborers streamed toward the finished section of the citadel, seeking shelter from the rampaging giant.
Once clear of the panicked workers, Merith reined in and studied the monster as it tramped on. As nearly as he could tell, it hadn’t injured anyone yet, but it had smashed about half a dozen huts with its thick feet and legs. It zigzagged around the camp as if it were looking for something.
Merith urged his horse forward, but the animal wanted no part of the giant. It reared and danced, trying to unseat its rider. The elf warrior held on and drew a yellow silk handkerchief from beneath his breastplate. It was a gift from a female admirer in Qualinost, but it served to cover his horse’s eyes and quieted the animal somewhat. Merith wrapped the reins around his mailed fist and spurred ahead.
The golem halted and bent stiffly at the waist. Bits of dried clay the size of an elf’s palm flaked off the giant’s joints and fell to the ground.
Merith watched, fascinated, as the monster’s hand split apart into five thick fingers. It plunged the hand into the ruins of a row of huts, and when it stood erect again, there was someone struggling in its grasp. The giant had the fellow by the throat. Merith saw that he was a Kagonesti elf.
Snapping down the visor on his helm, he charged at the monster. It paid no attention to him at all, even when Merith struck it full force with his sword. A wedge of hard white clay flew from the wound, but the giant was uninjured. The impact of the blow stung the elf warrior’s arm. Grimacing, he struck again. Another chip of clay flew, but to no avail; the poor wretch in the monster’s hand ceased kicking. The giant’s black eyes never blinked. Opening its fingers, it allowed the Kagonesti to drop to the ground close to Merith.
Crouched under the awning of a hut, Prince Ulvian took in the scene with satisfaction. The death of his tormentor, Splint, pleased him immensely. He also saw the warrior, Merithynos, trying to subdue the clay giant with his sword. The prince laughed out loud at the lieutenant’s antics, chopping at the mass of hard clay with comic futility.
Ulvian dashed down the lane, behind the busy Merith, up the hill toward Feldrin’s hut. The golem had stomped flat nearly every other structure around the master builder’s home. Ulvian burst through the door flap.
The outer room was empty. He searched every box and chest, with no result. The structure was divided by a canvas wall, the other half being Feldrin’s bedchamber. Ulvian bolted in and pulled up sharply. Feldrin himself stood guard over a small golden casket.
“So,” said the dwarf coolly, “you have joined forces with Drulethen.”
“Give me the amulet,” Ulvian said in a commanding tone.
“Don’t be a fool, boy! He’s using you. Can’t you see that? He’d promise anything to get his hands on that amulet again—and break every promise once he had it. He has no honor, Highness. He will destroy you if he has the chance.”
“Save your entreaties for someone else!” Ulvian’s voice was a harsh, angry rasp. “My father sent me here to suffer, and I’ve suffered enough. Drulethen has sworn to serve me, and serve me he will. You all think I’m a fool, but you’ll find out differently.” There was a loud crash nearby, and Ulvian added impatiently, “Now surrender the amulet, or the golem will crush you to jelly!”
Feldrin drew a jeweled shortsword from behind his back. “You will get it from me only after I’m dead,” he said solemnly.
Ulvian was unarmed. Feldrin’s keen sword and the steely look of determination in the dwarf’s eyes discouraged any rash action.
“You’ll regret this!” the prince declared, edging back toward the doorway in the canvas wall. “The golem won’t stand and argue with you. Once he comes, you will die!”
“Then it is by Reorx’s will.”
Furious, Ulvian dashed out of the tent. He nearly bowled over Dru, who was coming in his direction. The sorcerer cradled his left hand to his chest, and his ragged robes were soaked with sweat.
“Did you get it?” he cried, desperation glazing his eyes.
“No, Feldrin is guarding it. Why aren’t you with the brazier? Is the spell over?”
Dru mustered his strength; his spell had exhausted him. “I hung the doll over the brazier. The thong is almost burned in two. When it severs, the magic will end.”
The giant figure of the golem came into view over Dru’s shoulder. It had nearly reached the citadel. The parapets were lined with workers, many of whom were hurling stones at the unheeding monster.
“Can you control it?” asked Ulvian quickly. “If you can, then bring it here. It’s the only way to scare Feldrin into giving up the amulet!”
Wordlessly the sorcerer slid to his knees. His eyelids fluttered closed. Ulvian thought he had fainted, but Dru!s lips were moving slightly.
Abruptly the golem did a jerky about-face and came marching toward Feldrin’s hut. Merith dogged its heels, no longer slashing with his sword, but keeping it in view. When the elf warrior spied Ulvian and Dru, he put his head down and rode hard toward them.
“Merith is coming!” shouted the prince.
Still the sorcerer chanted. The golem’s wide, round head swiveled down to look at the mounted warrior. An arm the thickness of a mature oak limb swept down, knocking horse and rider to the ground. The horse let out a shriek and lay still. Merith struggled vainly but was pinned under his dead mount.
“That got him!” Ulvian cried, leaping into the air in his excitement.
“And I’ve got you,” said Feldrin from the door of his hut. Startled, the prince stepped back.
The dwarf had been a fighter of some note in his youth, and he knew how to handle a sword. Raising the jeweled blade high, he advanced toward Dru. The sorcerer never flinched, so complete was his concentration. Ulvian flung himself at the dwarf and grappled with him. The golem was only a score of yards away, and its long stride ate up the distance rapidly.
“Let go!” roared Feldrin. “I’ve no wish to harm you, Prince Ulvian, but I must—”
His muscled arms pushed steadily against Ulvian’s lighter strength. The prince’s grip was slipping. Gleaming in the morning sun, Feldrin’s sword was only inches from the sorcerer’s skull.
A wall of white fell on the prince and the dwarf. Ulvian was knocked backward through the air, landing hard on a pile of torn canvas and broken tent stakes. The breath was driven from his body, and the world vanished in a red, roaring haze.
Hands propped the prince up. He gasped and fought for air, and at last breath whooshed into his lungs. His vision cleared, and he saw Dru kneeling beside him. Ulvian shook his head to clear it, for he saw a remarkable thing: The spell animating the golem had obviously ended and the giant had fallen on Feldrin’s hut, breaking into several large clay pieces. From under a barrel-sized portion of the monster’s torso, Feldrin’s fur-wrapped legs protruded. His feet twitched slightly. A groan sounded from under the mass of clay.