Land of the Giants, page 45
“Father of the giants? When the giant troll died, his body was dragged back to Ginnungagap, and the remains were used to create the world. Blood became the oceans, flesh turned to the lands, bone was used for mountains, hair became forests and plains, and teeth were made into rocks. However, the giants saved his eyelashes, long and beautiful, to use in the first great forge, building Acadia as a gift to the humans.” Tryn moved closer, trying to see what the strange chalky powder was that Marius spread over the circle in a downward triangle.
From the far side of the dungeon, one of Tryn’s men came running toward the platform.
“And how was it that Ymir came to be dead?” Marius calmly asked, pouring a line of blood in the center of the circle.
“Marquess, sir,” Tryn’s man interrupted, trying to gather his attention.
Tryn motioned for him to wait, scowling at the fool for his impropriety. Returning his attention to the archduke, who was still crouched around the circle, directing Luz in a new arrangement, Tryn answered with shame. “Archduke, I am your unworthy servant that I do not know the answer to this. I always assumed Ymir died of old age.”
Marius rose, almost floating over to the marquess in one fluid motion. “This is the problem,” he muttered, more to himself than the marquess. “We are losing our way, and that fool Cronus is doing nothing about it.” Tryn was astonished to hear the archduke speak the emperor’s name with such open blasphemy. “Ymir was an immortal, something only those of the purest bloodline can hope to attain in this day and age. Time alone could not slay the mighty creator of all,” Marius said, baring his rows of razor-sharp teeth and looking very much as if he might spit. “No, great and mighty Ymir did not die of old age. Our God of Gods was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Tryn said, staring dumbly at the archduke.
“Murdered,” Marius confirmed, the mask of disgust still painted across his face. “When Borr, first son of Buri, mated with the jotuness Bestla, their unholy union brought forth the first Aesir, curse upon our existence. It was their three sons, Vé, Vili, and Óðinn, who murdered Ymir out of their jealousy for his unyielding love and favor for the jotnar. With Ymir out of the way, the cretins took the jotnar homeland while our people were lost in mourning.” The fires in Marius’s eyes flared. “So I ask you again, why did we come to Acadia in the first place?”
Tryn felt his own blood boiling at the thought of the benevolent god Ymir being murdered in his sleep by the treacherous Aesir. “We came here to escape our bondage in Jotunheim and to seek vengeance on the Aesir usurpers.”
Marius grimaced. “Correct. Filled with resources, Acadia is our chance to reclaim the fatherland and lay waste to the treacherous Aesir. It is here that our ranks have grown again. It is here that we are training our armies to meet the usurpers on the battlefield. It is from Acadia that we will reclaim our mantle as overlords of the seven worlds once more!” The archduke fervently waved his staff about as he spoke.
Tryn found it inspiring to be in the presence of the great jotun. “How will we do this your Lordship?” he asked, excited at the prospect.
“Believe it or not, the human scum are the key to everything,” Marius said, gathering himself, though the gluttonous gleam still lingered in his eyes. “Unfortunately, we did not realize it until we had nearly eradicated the scabs.”
“How can the humans be the key to our victory over the Aesir?” Tryn asked.
“We waste these scabs on menial tasks that only serve to weaken our ranks. Our empire is festering with laziness,” Marius said.
“So we shouldn’t use humans as slaves?” Tryn asked, carefully choosing his words. What the archduke was saying bordered on heresy, but a part of Tryn flickered with an unexpected hope, suddenly picturing his gentle Annabel.
“Absolutely not,” Marius replied. “Humans are far too useful a commodity to waste on picking grain and cleaning chamberpots. Fodder for the forge, this is what we need to use the scabs for. With these new methods for summoning I’ve discovered, we can create an army of demonspawn! For each worthless lump of human flesh, we can create a powerful soldier, ready to fill the frontlines of our assault against the Aesir usurpers.”
Tryn frowned and looked back at the cages of humans. He pictured Annabel sitting among the emaciated slaves waiting to be dragged into the summoning circle. It pained him to think of her used that way. Surely Annabel was more than just an ingredient or fodder as Marius put it. Tryn’s eyes moved over the packed cages, and he wondered if any of these humans knew Annabel.
What if she has brothers or sisters among these poor wretches? The sudden revelation consumed him. Could these humans be no different than her? What if they all had thoughts and feelings?
It was as if a veil were lifted from his face, revealing the suffering souls before him. All his life he had believed that humans were nothing more than savage animals that served no better purpose than biding the jotnar’s will. Now he saw row upon row of terrified prisoners, and all he could picture was his sweet, delicate Annabel peeking out from their filthy ranks. A yawning pit grew in Tryn’s heart as a vision of Annabel being thrown into the circle of summoning and ripped apart by the demon fires assaulted his senses and gripped him with terror. “H-How many of the h-humans will we need?” he asked, trying to hide the curious trembling of his voice.
Marius circled the marquess, leering, the torchlight flickering across his maniacal grin. “All of them. Every last one. I have already ordered the entire herd from Falzar to be sent here. In two weeks’ time, we will begin gathering up all of the scabs in Belikar and bringing them to the dungeons.”
“That soon?” Tryn asked. Inside he was shouting at himself to shut up, but his heart suddenly ached irrationally over the idea of losing Annabel. How could he have such strong feelings for one of the humans? And if his feelings were real, how could he allow Annabel or any other human to be turned into a demonspawn?
“Not soon enough. We would have started two decades ago if I had my way. It will take time to train the younger generations in warfare. They have grown lazy and wanton with scabs waiting on their every whim. Then there are the newly spawned demons we will also need to train in warfare and, of course, the gnolls, whom we will use as fodder to bolster our front lines alongside the demonspawn.” The archduke was speaking pragmatically, but his excited, wolfish grin grew more and more with each word. “By the time we are ready to march on Asgard, the Aesir will have no hope of stopping our forces.”
Tryn tried to pretend he was as excited as the archduke, but inside he could not shake the tormented feeling that Annabel would soon become a demonspawn. Thankfully, Marius did not seem to notice, ordering Luz to step back away from the circle. “Now then, where are those slaves your servant was bringing?”
Tryn looked to his man, who anxiously paced at the base of the stone steps. “Marquess, sir. T-That is w-what I need to tell you,” the page whimpered, looking as if he might be sick at any moment.
“Out with it, man, what is it?” Tryn snapped, in no mood to be made a fool in front of the archduke.
With a sideways glance, hoping perhaps there was a way he could escape the situation, Hrar tried to deliver his news. “Well…the slaves you sent us to fetch, sir…well…they…they’re...”
“Yes, yes, what of them? Where are they?” Tryn snapped, sneering at the jotun’s sniveling incompetence.
Hrar gulped, looking over Tryn’s shoulder at the fierce archduke, who also glared down at him. “They’ve disappeared, my lord. The slaves are gone.”
Chapter 17: Parting Ways
Logan Walker waved farewell to his new Agma friends as they disappeared into the jungle on their way back home. They had traveled together all through the night, putting a great distance between themselves and the Agmawor camp. But now, with their goals heading in opposite directions, it was time to say goodbye to Kol and his companions.
The Agma had insisted Tiko join them, but the lizardman would have no part in it, refusing to separate from his new friends and their task. He asked only that the Agma tell his tale to the chieftain and report that he was safe and alive. Besides, Kalilah waited for him back at the White Tree. So the Agma headed back to their camp, and the companions set out for the second time to retrieve the Aegis.
The group stopped to rest, and this time Logan fell fast asleep. When he awoke, it was with a feeling of complete refreshment. Back at the Agmawor camp, he had kept beating himself over not sensing the cannibals closing in on them sooner. He vowed to never be in that position again and wanted to be sharp of wit.
By the time they returned to the circle of willow trees where the Aegis lay, dawn had come and gone, leaving the heavy afternoon daystar to rest overhead, baking the jungle like an oven. Sounds of animals could be heard all around them as they neared the sacred grove: birds chirping, woodpeckers searching for food, squirrels chattering, and somewhere, nearby, the growling of a drake hunting for prey.
“Well, Morgana always used to say that second time’s the charm,” Logan said, breaking the silence as they entered the clearing. “Or was that the third time?”
The drake’s carcass had been nearly picked clean by wild animals. Logan shuddered, wondering how many dire wolves or imps it had taken to leave the pile of bones and sinew that remained where the drake had been slain.
The Aegis was no less stunning on second discovery, half buried in the soil and overgrown with weeds. The four of them had weapons drawn as they approached the ancient suit of armor, dwarfed in its shadow, and kept their eyes peeled for wandering drakes. Logan pointed at the helmet with two fingers then twirled them in the air, making a circle. Tiko followed his lead and made his way around the Aegis, skirting an unburied boot so he could scout the area. Once they were satisfied they were alone, weapons were put away.
“Tiko,” Logan asked, “do you mind giving us some eyes in the air?” The lizardman nodded and scaled a nearby willow, surveying the jungle for approaching enemies. “Right then, where were we, Nero?” Logan asked.
The android ran his fingers over the inscription he had translated a couple days ago. “It would seem the armor is brought to life by the heart of a dragon. Seeing as the beasts have not been seen in close to four centuries, we determined the drake’s heart should suffice.”
Logan nodded. “However, we could be wrong, and then this whole journey has been for naught.” He sorely hoped that was not the case and searched the tall grass for his pack, which had been left when they were captured.
“We just have to figure out where to put the blasted thing,” Bipp grumbled, scaling the armor in search of a solution. He pulled his stubby legs up onto the armor’s breastplate and, precariously balanced, walked across the arm and carefully inspected each fold in the armor. He had to brush off dirt and tug away vines which had long ago latched themselves to the Aegis.
Logan spotted his pack, snapping his fingers and pointing at it. When he opened it, a foot-long centipede darted out of the interior, slithering like a snake on hundreds of tiny legs. “Yuck,” he said, brushing away the intruder and grasping the purple and black swirled crystal. It was heavy as marble, filling his whole palm.
“Any luck figuring out where we put this?” Logan called to his friend, blocking the daylight with his forearm to get a look at Bipp on top of the armor. Bipp shrugged, lost in thought as he searched. “What do you think, Nero? Any guesses on where we put the drake’s heart?” Logan asked, walking over to Nero, who was studying the inscription for clues.
“Nero is not made for guessing, Master Logan,” the android explained. “It is in my programming to apply logical reasoning on the best possible course of action. This is based on a series of—“
“Whoa, whoa, settle down, I get it.” Logan patted the androgynous man’s back. “So what is your best reasoning then?”
“Nero does not have an answer,” the android replied, frowning that he could not be of more use to them.
Logan gave the forlorn android a warm smile. “Listen, Nero, what you did back there…that was really something.” Before the android could interject, Logan shook his head and continued, “I know, I know, you’re going to tell me it’s only in your programming or some other such nonsense.”
“I think I found it!” Bipp exclaimed, almost slipping off the curved breastplate in his excitement.
Logan chuckled at the gnome. “Okay, I’ll be there in one sec. Now you listen to me, Nero. What I saw back at that Agmawor camp was not some hunk of bolts running through its directives. That was pure intuition and ingenuity. I don’t think you can be programmed with that kind of behavior.”
Nero felt something inside his wiring tickle, a familiar echo in his binary circuits that drifted into being with Logan’s appreciative smile. Logan held out his hand and grasped Nero in a heartfelt handshake, and Nero knew, for the first time in his life cycle, that he had truly made a friend. He did not know how to feel about the revelation, or how the strange concept of ‘feeling’ was coming over him in the first place. However, when Logan clambered over the armor to meet the gnome, who was pumping his legs and struggling to pull thick vines away from a corner of the breastplate, the android was surprised to feel a smile spread across his face.
“Let me see what you have there,” Logan said, taking Bipp’s spot. He tore away the vines with his mechanical fingers, plucking the thin tuberous growths like candy ribbons. Beneath the mass of intertwined growth was a solid breastplate, curved to a point at the upper center. “Hmm, nothing here,” Logan muttered.
“That’s where your untrained human eyes deceive you,” Bipp teased, sliding under Logan’s arm to wiggle his way over the breastplate. With the vines cleared away, the gnome easily ran a stubby finger across a hairline joint, knocking on it at intervals until he came to a spot that did not echo as hollowly. With a greedy little laugh, the gnome pressed an unseen button, popping the armor open to reveal a small chamber just big enough for a dragon’s heart.
Logan gaped at the opaque, smoky crimson crystal inside. It was three times larger than the one he had taken from the drake but splintered into three pieces. Bipp carefully fished out the shards and motioned for Logan to hand him the drake’s heart. The gnome’s hair began to stand up as he lowered the crystal into the chamber. Energy crackled from within the tiny portal, trying to connect with the raw power source, and it made Bipp look like a mad scientist. Though, gauging by his satisfied grin, Logan could see he was not harmed in any way. Bipp carefully let the heart slide inside the tiny chamber. Light began building up in the core of the drake’s heart, and he quickly pulled his fingers away before closing the lid.
As the cover fit in place, the faceplate of the helmet slid back, and the entire chest began to slide down toward its feet. Logan grabbed Bipp just in time to save him from tumbling over the side while trying to keep his own balance atop the moving sheet of mithril.
“Great leaping lizards of Baradin!” Bipp gasped, looking inside the exposed chamber. From Tiko’s perch in the tree, he too could see the skeletal remains of the Aegis’s last owner.
“Who was he?” Logan asked no one in particular. The man had been tall, but his flesh had long since rotted away, and the scraps of cloth remaining were nothing more than formless tatters.
“Looks like a king, no doubt,” Bipp whispered, eyeing the skeleton’s gold crown, which was still intact if a bit tarnished. The crown came to three points, each adorned with a different gemstone—a ruby, an emerald, and an amethyst. They matched the three gems set into the pendant hanging off a gold chain around his neck, set in an upward V shape.
“What do we do with him?” Logan asked, licking his blistered lips.
“You’re always talking about wanting to search for treasure. Well, here you go!” Bipp said, jubilantly laughing at their good fortune. Logan shared his friend’s mirth, but inside he felt hollow at the prospect of picking this honorable man’s corpse clean.
The two of them worked together to pull the skeleton out of the chamber. It was surprising how well the bones had held up over time. Bipp figured it had something to do with how sealed off the body was from air all these years. The gnome wanted to just heave the skeleton over the side of the armor, but Logan insisted they carefully take it down and give the lost king a proper burial. Nero pitched in, and they dug a makeshift grave in the soil with their bare hands. When the shallow plot was ready, the pair stripped the king of his treasure. Logan placed the crown in his bag and put the chain around his neck. Bipp took the king’s five rings and placed them one by one into his pouch, but not without biting them first to see if they were real gold. When they were done, the three of them lowered the king’s skeleton into the grave.
“Should we say something?” Bipp asked.
Logan felt that it would be appropriate but had no idea what would be good. “Nero, do you know any burial speeches or something from Ithiki?”
“Perhaps it is proper to say:
Farewell ye brave wanderer,
Set about on your final journey.
May the light of Yggrdassil bathe your soul,
And may the Valkyries find you in the halls of Valhalla.
With that said, they patted down the dirt, covering the stranger and bidding him farewell. When they were done, Logan climbed back up the armor and stretched, cracking his knuckles in clasped hands. “Okay, here goes nothing,” he said, climbing into the chamber and lying on his back, facing the sky.
There were holes inside where he felt his arms and legs should go. Once his limbs stretched all the way, his feet came to rest on something that clicked in place, closing around his leather boots. Logan’s heart thundered in his chest, but he did not relent. Probing with his fingers, he found bars to either side that pulled into his palms. Another clicking sound came as gauntlets magically formed around his hands, and the entire breastplate began to close again.
“Are you okay in there?” Bipp hollered up the side of the armor.
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