Rating: T
Summary: A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack must use the Crown of Erik to call on some unlikely allies. Fallon/Isabelle, Fumm/OC
Disclaimer: I make no money whatsoever off this story or any of the characters.
Chapter 14: Army
The princess was upset. Fallon honestly couldn't blame her.
"What have you done?" The question was shouted at him as he dressed for what promised to be an interesting day.
"We would think it were obvious." He spared a glance at Isabelle, who was huddled amongst the trappings of the stone bed they'd shared. A bed meant for giants. Nearly invisible in a pile of ratty furs, the girl stared back at him accusingly. He would deal with her soon, but not now. There was no time for it.
After greeting his brethren earlier, he'd made a quick search of the castle's armory. Most of the weapons and armor down there were rusted beyond use, but he'd found a helmet that was battered yet serviceable. The iron cap fit him well enough, almost as good as the one he'd lost, and he figured his head - both of them - would be grateful for the extra protection before the day was done.
Stubborn as ever, Isabelle would give him no peace. "Why?"
Putting on a cuirass was tricky when you had two heads. He found it especially difficult when the little bastard on his shoulder refused to stay still. It took three tries and several growled threats before the giant slipped into the metal shirt.
"Fee, Fye, Foe, Fumm, and I cannot defeat an entire plague of fire-lizards on our own." With his chestplate finally on, his eyes searched the room for his flail, finding it coiled atop the iron chest. "For that, we need an army." Wrapping his fingers around the wooden handle, he hefted it, letting the ball swing in a lazy circle at the end of its chain. It felt good to have his old weapon back. He'd forged it himself during the first war with mankind. He'd carved a likeness of his own snarling face into the iron ball, making it an extension of his will.
"But...so many giants! They'll destroy Cloister!" The princess sounded frantic.
Once he'd thunked the dented halfhelm back onto his brother's head, fastened a few loose straps, and secured his weapon to his side, he turned to her. "They'll do what I tell 'em to, princess." They had better, he thought, savage anger flaring in his heart. I may no longer be king, but I can still crush insubordinate skulls.
When Fallon looked at her, really looked at her, he felt a pang in his chest. She was pale, very pale, and swallowing hard as though trying not to vomit. Acrid fear hung in the air all around her. Of course she's afraid. You're about to bring her into a den of giants who would happily tear her to pieces. Just like you did last time. He was surprised at the rush of guilt this thought produced. Guilt wasn't an emotion his kind normally experienced. Was this the price for a softened heart?
"You will not be harmed, little one. We swear it," Fallon said, making his voice as gentle as he could. His little brother squawked in agreement. Both halves of him wanted to pick her up and hold her unroll she was calmer, but there were hundreds of impatient warriors at the castle gates, and he dared not keep them waiting. Ignoring her protests, Fallon trapped Isabelle in his hand and carried her outside.
The dawn promised another cold, gray morning. While the castle had been built on a tall mountain, there were mountains taller still that loomed on all sides. Mist clung to their peaks, flowing downslope to spin airy webs among the trunks of evergreens. Fallon descended the ancient staircase, the same stairs hundreds of giants had carved a thousand years ago.
He met them where the stairs ended, about halfway down the mountain. They were milling aimlessly about, talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves; a gathering of huge men in battered armor and armed with swords, battle axes, and other, cruder, weapons. Some he knew on sight. He spotted Finn, a barrel-chested, white-haired warrior who fought with a warhammer that could shatter mountains, or so he boasted. Nearby was Feldspar, his bear-shaped body leaning nonchalantly against a rock pile. Ropes of human skulls wound around his neck. Fallon made a mental note to keep Isabelle away from that one.
She'll have to be guarded, he thought as he stepped among them. Giant-kind could unite in times of war, but Fallon would never again make the mistake of trusting his comrades too completely. Fumm's betrayal still rankled.
The laughter and merriment slowly faded as one by one the giants became aware of their leader's presence. Eager faces turned to him, a few doing double-takes when they saw the struggling princess in his hand. Fye marched beside him, carrying the leather-clad knight. Fallon didn't bother waiting.
"BROTHERS!" he shouted as he raised a fist. "A NEW HUNT HAS BEGUN!" The gathering erupted into roaring as each warrior stomped and clapped in excitement. "The scaled beasts have returned! They have slithered out from beneath their rocks and made war upon both mankind and us!" More stomping and growling. Fallon continued to stalk among them, nodding whenever he chanced upon a familiar face. Giants stepped aside to make a path for him and Fye, a sign most of them still respected their former king. Good. He shouted even louder. "They have stolen the Crown of Erik the Terrible! They plan to become our masters!" This news was greeted by enraged snarls. Caught up in his own speech, Fallon bellowed so loudly his voice echoed off the mountaintops. "WILL THEY? NO! WE WILL TRACK THEM TO THEIR LAIRS AND MAKE TROPHIES OF THEIR BONES! WE WILL SLAY THEIR QUEEN AND BREAK HER EGGS! WE WILL EAT THEM ALL!"
The warriors cheered. Some clashed their weapons, raising a cacophony of ringing steel. Fallon roared with them, holding Isabelle in his right fist and brandishing the flail in his left. The air was so charged with excitement he almost failed to notice that his poor princess was clutching the sides of her head as though it might split in two.
Miraculously, a giant managed to make his voice heard above the general chaos. "What about the humans?"
Things were suddenly very quiet. All eyes were on Fallon, waiting expectantly for his answer. He growled, sharing a quick look with Fye. This wasn't going to make his army happy. "Until the last dragon is dead, the humans are our allies. They are not to be harmed. And this one-" he held up a trembling Isabelle "-is mine!"
The declaration was met with quiet acceptance, punctuated by muttering and low, unhappy growls. A better reaction than I expected, Fallon thought.
He gestured for Fye to bring the knight forward. Fye did so, holding the man up for all to see. "This one will be our guide in unfamiliar lands." Fallon got a brief moment of enjoyment from witnessing the startled bewilderment spread across the man's face. If he had to put up with the annoying knight, then let the fool make himself useful.
A big-bellied giant with bright green hair waved his arm. Fallon had no idea what the fellow's name was, but doubted he ever missed a meal. "Couldn't we just eat one or two of them? As before-battle snacks?"
It was a tempting idea, especially when paired with the mental picture of a certain farmboy being ripped into bite-sized pieces. "Perhaps," he muttered.
Still clutched in his fingers, Isabelle managed to reach out and smack the back of his hand.
"No," he amended.
More grumbling ensued. The green-haired fellow looked especially crestfallen as his flabby body sagged.
A harsh squawking in his ear drew Fallon's attention to his right shoulder, and the frog-faced creature attached to it. Clearly, his little twin had something on his mind. "What?" Fallon snapped. The little head gestured with its chin toward a clump of giants, where Fallon spotted the lanky shape of Fee chatting happily with his bored-looking friends. Fallon's jaw set in a grim line. His mouth filled with bitter juice as he handed Isabelle over to Fye. "Look after her," he ordered. The stone-faced warrior nodded. With Isabelle safe (or as safe as it was possible to be among giants), Fallon stalked into the crowd, muscling bodies aside until he could clap a hand on Fee's shoulder and pull his smaller brother away.
He hauled Fee down a dirt path that wound through thick scrub and moss-covered boulders, obstacles that would've blocked a human but which they easily stepped over. Fee didn't resist, but followed meekly. Once Fallon was certain they were well out of earshot, he backed the smaller giant up against a cliffside. Above them, a weathered face with bulging eyes and peglike teeth grinned, a monument an artistic giant had carved into the rock a millennium ago.
"You climbed the beanstalk," he said in a low, conspiratorial growl. "Did you find what we told you to look for?"
Fee blinked in confusion, and brought up a hand to pull at his stringy hair. "Other giants? Sure! I found lots of them!"
"Besides them." Fallon resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Why had he entrusted this task to Fee? The lad was loyal, but also a fool.
"What? Oh, yeah!" The dimness finally left Fee's eyes. He reached up to his neck, where Fallon noticed he'd tied a very small leather bag. The two-headed giant could've smacked his own twin skulls for having overlooked it. Fee dropped the bag into Fallon's open palm. "They shrank as soon as I picked 'em. I didn't eat any."
"If you had eaten any, you'd be dead." Carefully, Fallon pulled opened the bag's drawstring and tipped its contents into his palm. It was a struggle for him not to gag at the sight of six smooth, shiny black beans. So small he could barely see them, yet he was more than aware of the power they contained. A growl clawed its way out of his throat as he felt phantom leafy tendrils snaking their way through his guts, twisting and tearing.. His second head wasn't coping any better, pulling faces and whimpering to itself. "Yuck, yuck, yuck."
"Did I do all right?" Fee's tentative voice pulled Fallon out of his memories of green hell.
Fallon sighed. "You did well, Fee." It was like he'd just told the lad he could have all the humans and sheep he could eat. Fee's grin was so wide Fallon could count every one of his chipped teeth. His youngest brother was an enormous youngling, always seeking his elder's approval.
"What now?" Fee asked.
Growling, Fallon closed his fist around the beans.
"Now we prepare for war!"
[O{
"Well, I don't think there are as many of them as last time. We may yet come out of this all right."
Isabelle couldn't tell if that was a weak attempt at humor on Elmont's part. Giants were everywhere, their big feet trampling the ground. Fye stood apart from the main throng glowering at everything, apparently resigned to his duty of guarding the two humans whether he liked it or not. He held her a little too tightly, but Isabelle didn't complain. She'd gladly endure being squeezed if it kept her from getting her head bitten off.
At least I was prepared this time. The first time she'd been around so many giants had been a nightmare. She'd been too busy holding onto the bars of her cage and shying away from their grasping fingers to really look at them. Now she was still terrified, but with enough of her wits about her to watch some of their antics. Two well-muscled giants were locked in an arm wrestling contest with their elbows propped on thick stone slabs. Several giants were gathered around them, shouting out encouragement. Eventually one forced the other's arm to the table, and was clapped on the back by his friends, while the loser's friends snarled and stamped their feet. Isabelle gave in to a fit of nervous laughter. They act just like rowdy, overgrown human men, she thought. What fitting companions for a princess!
She'd been all too aware of their eyes on her while Fallon paraded through the crowd, giving his speech. Some had merely thrown her curious glances, raised their bushy eyebrows, then shrugged her presence away. Others had snarled in open hostility, and the most chilling of all had smiled and licked his lips.
From Fye's other hand, Elmont spoke up. "Fye, if you were our size, how would you fight a giant?" His tone was casual, but Isabelle could sense the strain underneath.
Fye glared down at the man in his hand, frown firmly in place. "I wouldn't."
"Not a helpful answer."
The giant sighed, then scrunched up his forehead as he thought very, very hard. "A knight managed to prick my ankle once. I stomped on him. But he stuck to the bottom of my foot." Fye grimaced, reliving the unpleasant sensation of human-between-the-toes.
Elmont looked a little queasy too. Isabelle caught his eye and smiled sadly, her eyes saying You asked.
Elmont started to speak, but was cut off by a familiar giant's voice. "Hey there!" They all looked up to see Fee weaving his way through the crowd. He stopped directly in front of Fye and held out his hand expectantly. "I want the little man back."
Despite Fye towering over his fellow giant, he acquiesced without a fight. "Take him and welcome," he grumbled as he handed a very dismayed Elmont over. "Fee!" shouted Elmont as he was being manhandled. "I really should stay with the princess."
Fee shook his head, making his tangled hair fly about crazily. "Fallon says I'm to take you with me. We're going to have fun!"
Isabelle could do nothing but watch as her knight was carried off. The backwards glance he sent her was full of helpless worry, weary resignation, and a touch of mocking humor. I hope I'll see you later, the look said.
I hope so too, Isabelle thought. She struggled in Fye's hand, her ribs beginning to ache. A shout went up from the giants clustered around the stone slab. More arm wrestling was taking place between two hairless brutes whose forearms rippled with muscle. Pushing against each other, their sharp-boned faces contorted with effort and anger. It looked as though they might forego wrestling, throw the table aside, and go straight to blows.
"So you're the little lass Fallon has all his eyes on."
Isabelle nearly jumped out of Fye's hand at the sudden voice. A giant's chest now blocked her view of the arm wrestlers. Looking up, she saw the face that belonged to that chest. Sharp-boned features, like most giants, but sculpted in a way that was eerily handsome. Snow-white hair fell to his shoulders in smooth waves. He was smiling down at her, though the size of his teeth made the smile a little less friendly than he might've meant it to be.
The hand gripping her squeezed even tighter, making Isabelle gasp for air. Fye snarled. "Don't touch her, Finn!"
The giant called Finn raised his hands, showing thick, calloused palms. "The girl's in no danger from me, Fye. I know better than to break the General's toys." He paused, squinting at Isabelle, whose face had gone an interesting shade of purple. "You might do the same. Ease up on the little thing before she breathes her last."
Fye growled, but loosened his grip. Isabelle sighed in relief as blood began to circulate again. She stared up at Finn, torn between gratitude and indignation at being called "toy." "I'm not Fallon's toy!" she snapped, while rubbing at her tender ribs. "What do you want?"
Belatedly, Isabelle saw a hammer big enough to smash a house swinging at his hip, but the giant didn't seem in the mood to use it. Instead, his smile broadened into a huge grin. Chuckling, he replied in an accent thicker even than Fallon's. "Got some teeth, eh? I can see why the General likes yeh. Praps I'll find myself a little human lass, if one'll have me. Been too long since I've seen a pretty face."
Isabelle stared, dumbstruck. Her brain was working furiously to come up with some sort of reply when another, much nastier voice spoke.
"She's not that pretty."
Finn whirled around to snap at the giant who'd slunk up behind him. "I'd rather look at her face than yours, Foul!"
True to his name, Foul was the ugliest giant Isabelle had ever seen. Hunchbacked, with a hooked nose that had hair dangling from each black pit of a nostril. His face was pockmarked with seeping sores. A pair of yellowed canines protruded from his lower lip like tusks, and when the wind changed Isabelle discovered he smelled like the boar he resembled. She gagged.
"Begone with yeh!" Finn shoved Foul back a step, and the hunchback bared his teeth. Isabelle, fairly certain the two monsters were about to fight, contemplated prying Fye's fingers open and running for it. But the noise and commotion drew more giants, who stomped over in twos and threes to snarl and growl. Foul disappeared among them, leaving her, Fye, and Finn surrounded by confused and curious faces, all speaking at once.
"What's going on?"
"A fight? I hope it's a fight!"
"No, just Foul making a nuisance of himself again?"
Then one giant blurted out, "Is that the princess?"
Several pairs of giant eyes focused on Isabelle, and she had nowhere to hide. She stared up at them bravely, though her heart felt like a hammer rapping at her chest.
A giant approached. If not for the wild green hair, he could've been the twin of the portly fellow Jack and Elmont had caused to tumble off the edge of Gantua. Isabelle hoped the two weren't related. She doubted the trick with the beehive would work twice.
The green-haired goliath looked her over critically. Then all he said was, "I thought she'd be bigger."
A gruff voice answered. "She's of mankind. They're all small."
"I've seen a few that were big. Not as big as us, but bigger than that."
Isabelle wanted to shrink down until she disappeared. She'd hated being the center of attention at court; being ogled by this pack of huge, violent men was almost more than she could take. She stared down at Fye's fingers, still wrapped snugly around her waist. Then she felt the weight of a giant's fingertip on her back, and looked up to see Finn standing as close as he could get to Fye without provoking her ever-moody guardian. She couldn't read his face as well as Fallon's, but she thought he looked ... worried.
A new giant called out in a voice that was nothing but bass rumble. "Pretty little thing, isn't she?" Several onlookers stepped aside, clearing a path for the new arrival. When Isabelle saw him, she shivered, recognizing the giant who'd licked his lips at the sight of her earlier. "I wonder if she tastes as good as she looks?"
The new arrival wore ropes of human skulls like beads around his thick neck. He was bald, except for a spiky stripe of black hair slashing down the middle of his scalp. Tiny skulls of unidentifiable animals adorned his iron chestplate, and his nose was pierced with what Isabelle realized was a human rib. Revolted, all the spit dried up in her mouth, and she swallowed down a hot lump of bile.
Finn and Fye snarled openly at the newcomer, while the crowd stepped back to give them plenty of room. "She's not for eating, Feldspar," Finn growled, placing his big body between Isabelle and the bone-covered monster. "The General said so."
The new giant - Feldspar - angrily snarled back. "Aye! The General always keeps the best prizes for himself!"
What might've happened then Isabelle decided best not to contemplate. It was at that moment she heard a familiar voice yell, "FELDSPAR!" And immediately after came a higher, gargled echo, "FELSQUAR!"
Giants scattered, making way for their leader. Fallon burst through the crowd, a two-headed juggernaut of muscle, iron, and barely contained anger. The princess was so happy to see him, she could've cried. He swept his gaze over the scene before him, gazing hardest at Feldspar. Bones clinked and clattered as Feldspar grudgingly backed away from Finn. Finn also relaxed his stance, but never took his eyes off Feldspar's curled fists. The air was full of softly threatening growls.
A tense moment passed before Fallon turned abruptly to Finn, snapping, "Bring the others and come with us."
Isabelle finally let out the breath she'd been holding as the crowd dispersed. Finn barked out orders in the giants' own guttural language, herding the others. Before leaving himself, the white-haired giant looked down at Isabelle. With his chin, he pointed at Feldspar's retreating backside. "Watch out for that one, lass. He likes killing humans. Especially human girls."
The princess nodded grimly. No one had to tell her Feldspar was a killer.
Drained, Isabelle closed her eyes, and kept them closed while Fye carried her to some unknown destination. She could hear Fallon's shouted commands, each one a painful blow to her sore eardrums."What's he doing?" she mumbled.
"$ending out hunting parties." Fye replied in the mournful tone of someone who wished he could go.
Isabelle didn't want to open her eyes. She wanted to be safe in her bedchamber in the palace. Or grooming Victoria in the stables. Or even locked away in the castle dungeon. Her first meeting with Fallon's army, and she felt as though she'd barely survived.
And the day wasn't even half over yet.
{O}
Isabelle was quickly learning why Fallon was the biggest, meanest, loudest giant of all. He had to be!
The roars were deafening, made as they were by a two-headed giant and his equally vocal opponents. Fallon expertly wielded his flail, sending the iron ball crashing into the helm of an onrushing giant. The big man was knocked off his feet, crashing down on his armored rump so hard the stone beneath him cracked. The second brawler, who had the misfortune of having an absurdly long neck, was simply grabbed by the throat and throttled until he dropped his club. Fallon let him go, and he fell to the ground like an avalanche, choking out something that sounded like, "I didna start it! I didna start it!"
Fye stood a healthy distance away from the uproar, among a ring of cheering, laughing giants who shouted out praise and derision in equal measure. Still clutched in Fye's hand, Isabelle gaped at the spectacle in fearful awe. Having been guarded by soldiers her whole life, she'd seen plenty of men who loved to fight. Giants, however, seemed to thrive on it.
"That's the sixteenth fight he's broken up so far today!" she shouted up at Fye.
Somehow Fye managed to hear her over the chaos around them. "Seventeenth," he amended, just as a giant carrying a bucket big enough to drown a herd of oxen dropped its contents all over the feet of his companion. Angry shouts were heard, and then the punching began.
Fallon dealt with this diversion the same as he'd dealt with the others: with cuffs, kicks, and a few swings of his flail. After giving them a few well-earned lumps, he sent the troublemakers back to their duties. The giants who hadn't been given the job of hunting had been tasked to repair the castle, raising walls, clearing debris, and mortaring stone blocks back into place. They'd been working hard all afternoon ... when they weren't arguing, eating, or trying to kill each other.
These are our allies, Isabelle told herself for the millionth time. They're the best chance we have.
Sighing, she tried to shift to a more comfortable position. Fye was no longer squeezing her, but her feet had gone to sleep from being held up so long, and the tattered fabric of her dress was damp from drizzle. The clouds had only grown thicker throughout the day, sending down spurts of cold rain that lasted only seconds, but left every surface slick and gleaming.
"BACK TO WORK! ALL OF YOU!" Fallon's angry shouts carried over the crowds. Isabelle winced. Her ears were already throbbing.
"MAKE WAY!" She recognized his footsteps coming closer. Soon he stood before her, breathless, dirty, and with a thousand fresh cuts and scrapes. His second head sported an impressively swollen black eye, and the princess noticed he'd torn open the slash on his cheek again. She sighed.
Fallon held out a hand. Without a word, Fye handed her over, and she was carried off again. Past groups of grunting, sweating giants lifting stones past smoking cookfires with enormous spits slowly turning, until they reached a secluded area in what Isabelle assumed was the castle courtyard. Like the rest of the castle, it was in ruins, with eroded stone benches and defaced sculptures. There was, however, a crenellated wall high enough to provide some privacy, and Fallon slumped against it with a grateful sigh.
He lifted her up and Isabelle soon found herself pressed tight to the bare patch of skin beneath his throat. A soft growl thrummed its way through her body, coaxing her to relax in spite of dangling more than twenty feet off the ground. She gave in, laying her cheek against his skin. "Is this what a normal day is like for you?" she mumbled.
He heard despite her voice being muffled. Isabelle felt his laugh beneath her fingertips. "No. On a normal day I let them have at each other. This time I need them whole and ready to fight."
From over the wall came the roars and banter of the other giants. The princess sighed. "They're ready for that, it seems."
Fallon lifted her higher so she could look him directly in the face. "Are you still frightened?"
Isabelle mustered a weak smile. "Of the other giants, no. Of your shouting..." She raised a hand to rub at her aching ears. "I think I know where the thunder comes from now."
That got an actual smile out of him. "A giant is nothing without a strong voice." One of his fingers found its way into her hair, twining itself in the longest strands. Playing with her tangled locks seemed to be one of his new favorite things. "They will not bother your people as long as there are dragons to hunt. Dragon meat is as good as humans."
Isabelle decided to take his word on that. It was strange, this new camaraderie between them. Strange, but not unpleasant. Teasing him like this would have been unthinkable when they'd first met, and Isabelle wouldn't have dared even when he'd been subjugated by the Crown. That he permitted it now, even welcomed it, meant something had changed between them. Fallon removed his fingers from her hair, only to angle his cheek toward her hand, a clear signal he wanted to be touched. She obliged him, running her small hand over what she could reach of his cheekbones.
He lets me sleep on his chest, she thought as she trailed her fingers over a jaw big enough to sever her neck in one snap. He tries not to hurt me. He saved my life.
There was something between them now. A bond. The implications excited, confused, and terrified Isabelle all at once.
A squabbling ensued from over his right shoulder. With one hand resting on Fallon's chin, the princess flicked her eyes to his second head. The creature was splattering incoherently, it's flabby lips puckered and pouting, it's wide eyes rolling in their sockets. For his part, Fallon was either oblivious of its antics or staunchly ignoring his little brother.
Isabelle guessed it was the latter. "What does he want?"
A corner of Fallon's mouth twisted in a half-sneer."You," he said simply.
The squalling only got louder. Isabelle patted the giant's face, giving him a mischievous smile. "Better hand me over before you have a mutiny on your hands."
Growling, and so blatantly reluctant she had to stifle laughter, Fallon placed her against his twin's neck. All complaints ceased, and the little imp gibbered happily while she tickled it behind one wide, floppy ear.
She was in the middle of fussing over its blackened eye when a nagging thought she'd pushed aside for too long suddenly resurfaced. "Where did you send Elmont?"
Fallon's shoulders rose as he drew in a deep breath. The movement jostled her, forcing her to throw her arms around his second head's thick neck. The giant's breath gusted out in a long sigh as he answered. "Off with Fee. Gathering sheep."
Oh, God save us. Isabelle bit her lip and tried not to Imagine an indignant and irate Elmont running up and down hills trying to corral sheep with a dimwitted giant. Keeping a hand on the neck of his second head, she twisted around until she could look at Fallon more directly. "You don't want him here, do you?"
In reply, the giant reached up a hand and plucked her off his shoulder. She ended up laying across his open palm, staring up at his wide, toothy mouth and stormy eyes. A gust of cold wind ruffled the tattered silk of her gown, pricking her skin with ice. She fought the urge to curl into a ball. "Of course I don't!" Fallon grumbled, irritation coloring every word. "Looking after you is an impossible enough task. Keeping your knight out of mischief as well will drive us both to madness." His second head burbled in agreement.
Abruptly, Fallon changed tack, his mood growing darker, his gaze more intense. "What did Feldspar want with you?"
Using his meaty fingers for leverage, Isabelle pulled herself up until she was sitting in the giant's palm. Relapse had frightened her, no mistake, but she was just as afraid of Fallon's reaction once he learned what had happened. She took a deep breath, counted to five, and plunged. "He wanted to know if I tasted as good as I looked."
A fierce growl ripped from an almost identical pair of throats. Teeth were bared and snarling. His free hand reached for the flail at his hip, drew it, and sent the ball careening in a random direction. Isabelle closed her eyes, but heard the sharp crack of smashed stone. "Perhaps we shall have a word with him."
That was rather restrained, Isabelle thought. She'd expected far more damage.
A commotion rose up outside the courtyard walls. Raucous cheering, weapons clashing, a bugle being winded. Isabelle was about to ask what was going on but Fallon saved her the trouble, carrying her to the source of the carnage.
Pairs of giants were marching through a crowd of jubilant onlookers. Each giant carried one end of a tree trunk, and bound to each trunk was the fresh carcass of a dragon. A few had already been skinned, revealing bones and ropes of slick red muscle that still dripped purplish blood.
"Dragon meat," Fallon said. He licked his lips. "We will eat well tonight."
Some of us will, Isabelle thought glumly.
The General spent a moment surveying the faces of those who'd returned. He frowned. "Where's Finn's crew?" he shouted.
A bald, bearded warrior with a massive chest and arms writhing with strange tattoos answered. "He took his party further out. Said he knew of a place with good hunting."
Fallon growled. His second head whimpered. The princess shared their uneasiness. Finn seemed a decent enough giant. She hoped he was all right.
{O}
"Foul! Move your sorry arse or we'll never make it back before nightfall!"
At the head of the line, Finn stood scowling with his arms crossed. He threw Foul a disgusted look before turning away. No one bothered waiting for him, a shuffling hunchback. Foul gritted his teeth. It made his tusks cut into his upper lip, but he didn't care. He hated everything about this hunt. He hated Finn for all his bossy arrogance. He hated the icy wind in his face. He hated his aching knees and twisted back. And more than anything, he hated Fallon for denying him the one thing that made him truly happy: human flesh.
Why did we bother coming down here if we can't eat, plunder, and smash whatever we want? He bared his teeth in a hideous snarl as he raised a hand against the biting wind. It was Finn's stupid idea to lead them higher up into the mountains, claiming they were more likely to spot a dragon up here than in the lowlands. Foul had trudged sullenly behind while Finn and the more agile giants climbed up and down cliffs, sniffed around in caves, and cleared the remains of ancient rockslides from their paths. When the afternoon progressed without finding so much as a green scale, Foul felt bitterly satisfied. Now they were heading back to that crumbling heap of a castle, having caught nothing but a few stringy mountain goats.
I miss the taste of human meat, he thought as he struggled to keep up with the others. He hadn't tasted it at all when Fallon last led them to Albion. During the ambush and subsequent chase he'd almost tasted it, snatching a rider off his horse, but the squirming meat was stolen by a bigger, stronger warrior before he could pop it in his mouth. He'd consoled himself with knowing he'd get his share once they took the human castle, but that too was denied him by the runty boy who'd forced them all to bow to him, then sent them away empty handed and with empty bellies. It was the last thing he'd wanted to do, go home without eating even a scrap of man-meat. He loved that sweet, honeyed-ham taste, and the way they screamed going down his throat. Any humans he could catch were good, but little human children were the best of all. So juicy and tender. The mere thought made his mouth water.
"FOUL!"
His pleasant reverie broken, Foul came back to himself ... and nearly stumbled off the edge of a cliff. He'd gotten so far behind the others they appeared as little more than barely discernible black hulks on the trail ahead of him. The white mist coalescing around him didn't improve his vision. He cursed Finn a thousand times for bringing him here, even as the recipient of those curses called his name.
"FOUL, WHERE ARE YOU!"
Foul was about to answer I'm behind you, you simpleton! when suddenly the wind changed, and his entire being became focused on the tip of his crooked nose. More specifically, on what his nose told him was nearby.
The succulent scent of man-meat!
The decision was made in an instant. Fallon could keep his precious human princess. Foul would take what was owed him. He was going hunting for humans.
Grinning, he leaned back and drank in more lungfuls of that heavenly smell. It seemed to drift up from below, from the bottom of the cliff he stood upon. He dropped to his knees and grabbed onto the edge with splayed fingers, wanting to steady himself before looking down. He peered as far over as he dared, seeing nothing below but more white mist and blackness. His fingers dug hard into the gritty stone of the drop off. second thoughts surfaced briefly in his mind ... but the scent was so strong there had to be human's down there!
Ignoring the buffeting wind, ignoring the distant, almost indistinguishable sounds of Finn and the others calling for him, he swung himself over and began climbing down. He normally hated climbing - it was torture on his lumpy back - but thoughts of the feast that awaited down below spurred him on. Perhaps he'd find an entire village of humans. Perhaps there'd be children among them...
A ledge gave way beneath his foot. Cursing, he scrabbled around for better purchase, clinging to the cliffside like a giant humanoid rock beetle. Then the surface beneath his fingers turned to dust and he slid helplessly down, scraping his knees and palms and feet before an outcropping of rock presented itself and he seized onto it with both hands. Breathing hard, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding on, Foul took a nervous glance down.
Nothing but soupy whiteness below. And heat. There was definitely heat rising up from the depths, now that he was close enough to feel it.
Like all giants, Foul would never admit, aloud or privately, that'd he'd done something very stupid. But now he was seriously wondering how he would solve his current problem. Is it safe to let go? He wasn't sure how far he had left to descend. Panicked, he was trying to decide what to do when the outcropping he clung to decided for him. It broke, and sent him tumbling into open air, screaming, hands grasping at nothing.
And then he landed painfully on his back, the breath going out of him in a single whoosh. Every joint in his body hurt and his hump was one big knot of agony, but he was alive. And the smell!
It was everywhere!
Only...
He levered himself up, and heard little crackling and snappings beneath him. The mist was thick down here, damp, heavy and hot. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he groped blindly, grabbing up a handful of whatever he'd landed on. He squinted to see the phosphorous white things in his hand.
They were bones. Tiny human bones, some bare, some with rags of flesh still clinging. They were the source of the lovely scent that was still so sweet in the air, only now it was tainted by rot and decay. A deception.
A trap.
A dark shape moved in the mist, seeming to uncoil itself, slowly. A foreleg appeared, armored in emeralds, and twice as thick as his own arm. All thoughts of eating fled Foul's mind as terror gripped him. He scrambled back, his hands and feet crunching bones to fine powder that drifted up in small puffs, adding to the general whiteness. A long, horrible hiss was the last thing Foul heard before something impossibly huge seized him in its jaws, lifting him up, then slamming him back down to break him like an egg against the canyon walls. Red pain obscured his vision as his body was torn and mangled. Then came a light as of a thousand sunbursts exploding in his head, engulfing him, eating him, and Foul knew no more of the world.