Icaria shot up to a sitting position, heart racing. The panicked shouts of the watchman were indecipherable to her as the fog of an interrupted dream still floated through her mind, scattering her thoughts. Was the giantess attacking? If so, she had made a grave mistake.
Icaria was joined by Volkhard not long after she sprang to her feet. The man was disheveled and dressed only in light sleepwear, a far cry from the normally collected exterior he presented, not to mention the grey longcoat she’d never before seen him without.
“Selcenians!” the watchman screamed, stumbling through the cavern interior, “It’s an army!”
“Curses.” Icaria spat, rushing outside with Volkhard, “What’s a Selcenian army doing out here in these flatlands?”
“Maybe they’re looking for the giantess. Maybe they’re looking for us.”
“Damn it all, you’re probably right… that blundering idiot Firkon pulled us into a fight we can’t escape unscathed, it seems.”
“Wait, I thought you agreed with him. Didn’t you support his choice and all? The enemy has no respect for the First Emperor, after all. That doesn’t seem like something you’d take lightly.”
“It’s not, Volkhard, but picking a fight with a petty general will bring us nowhere. Assuming we do defeat him, another will rise to take his place, and as sure as the sun will rise, his replacement will be similarly impious and blasphemous. I just needed Firkon to think I supported his decision to get on his good side.”
The two exited the cavern along with a band of panicked soldiers, stepping out into the still sunless morning, and found themselves surrounded by a company of armor-clad Selcenians. Icaria reached into the supply wagon and pulled forth a beautifully intricate giantslayer’s spear, giving it a few arcing twirls before planting it in the muddy earth. She was immediately suspicious of the Selcenians’ motive - they had arranged themselves in a phalanx and held outside the cavern, rather than striking and trapping the Orestians inside. If they had meant to attack, they’d likely have done it already; everything was in their favor, from the dark of the early morning to the unpreparedness of the Orestian legionaries. Icaria, emboldened at the thought that the Selcenian forces had halted, stepped forward from the rag-tag ranks of Firkon’s men, scanning the ranks of the enemy for a commander.
“For what purpose have you come here, and to what end do you abstain from fighting? Come forth, any of you, any who’d dare!”
A few ominous seconds passed before the formation parted in two, making way for a familiar figure to emerge from their ranks. The general that Firkon had disagreed with - to put it lightly - was standing no more than fourty paces away from Icaria, unaccompanied, unarmed.
“Icaria the Younger. Your reputation as a giantslayer precedes you… as does your fanatical devotion to the First Emperor. I suppose it is better I speak with you than that uncivil Orestian, assuming you have any command over the ragtag vagabonds amassed behind you.”
“Do not speak such offensive and arrogant words to a servitor of the First Emperor. I can strike you down where you stand at this very moment, and all of Agopolis would stand behind me should your false emperor of a liege take any issue. I will ask you again what it is that you want, and if you do not answer, I advise you to move on lest my intolerance of your ilk gets the better of my patience.”
“Fine!” the general curtly responded, clearly upset with Icaria’s defiance, “I am Andronikos Kourkouon, Despot of Eparike and former member of the Ten Generals of the Basileus. This last part is rather an issue - but I have been promised that I will be restored to my rightful position should I make assurance that not a soul among you will disclose the… incident… that occurred last we met. I’m sure neither of us would like a war between our nations, and as such, I would be happy to make you an offer to cast said incident to the wind, and let none but the wind whisper of it ever again.”
Icaria raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise, although she still wasn’t sure whether to expect trickery on the part of Andronikos.
“An offer? Let’s hear it then. No use in wasting any more of our time.”
“But of course.” Andronikos returned, “And I know well why you value your time so. Your quarry attacked a Selcenian outpost recently. I heard, well, disturbing accounts from the survivors, accounts that would shake any man convinced of the First Emperor’s righteousness to his core. Accounts of a giantess that, for the briefest of moments, tried to show mercy and kindness. A giantess that had a companion versed in both languages, a girl perched on her immense shoulder.”
Icaria faltered. She had known that the giantess had taken captives, but this, this of all things, was terrible news indeed. If Andronikos was to be trusted, then this girl was perhaps even more dangerous to the cause than the giantess.
“As if that wasn’t enough, she’s an arcanist. Stopped a ballista bolt dead in the air with a flick of her wrist, from what I could ascertain. Now, while preserving the false truth of your venerated First Emperor means nothing to me, I too want to see this giantess dead, especially before she causes any more needless strife. My men and I will join you on your hunt, on the twofold condition that you make no mention of our previous skirmish, and you neither receive nor provide any further aid to Q’thuman.”
Icaria stared down the general. He was young for one of his position, likely a noble’s son or some other manner of aristocracy. He was impetuous and selfish, that much was obvious, but Icaria didn’t get the feeling that he was one to betray her; he laid his reasoning bare, and in truth, it was convincing.
“I don’t like the idea of allying with a Selcenian. Your Basileus has no claim over the mantle of the First Emperor. Your people are at war with Q’thuman, and no small number of our own ranks hail from Q’thumani lands. You enslave the giants, a disgusting and dangerous practice, when they should be granted the mercy of death. Despite all this… we need help. Every bit of help we can get. I suppose if you managed to get yourselves here, the ground is navigable. We should be going soon, then.”
“Understood.” Andronikos replied before turning to his men, formalizing the agreement as far as it would ever be, “Break ranks! Load supplies! We’ll be following the Orestians!”
Icaria, breathing a sigh of relief as the Selcenian phalanx broke ranks and lowered their shields, jogged up to Andronikos after a brief pause, not quite finished in her dealings with the man. He was already oblivious of her presence… yet another sign that he lacked the experience that made a good general. To turn your back on the enemy after making a fresh truce was no slight mistake. Andronikos only whirled around when one of his guards pointed Icaria out to him.
“Well! Have you perhaps come to reconcile for your earlier harsh words, or is this your idea of killing me in a moment?” Andronikos chided, his words once again brazen now that Icaria was standing in the midst of his forces.
“I haven’t come to kill you, although you’re doing a fine job of tempting me. No, I’m here about what you said about the outpost the giantess attacked; you said there were survivors. Do you happen to have any of them with you now?”
Andronikos nodded, replying, “Well, sure, yeah, I figured they might be helpful when the time for battle comes. You aren’t planning on killing off the witnesses, are you? He’s a nice fellow, this one, shared a few drinks with him. I’d hate for you to cut his throat because he had the misfortune of getting in the way of your giantess quarry.”
Icaria shook her head. The thought had crossed her mind, no doubt about it, but after the loudmouthed Andronikos spoke of the happening in front of the entire Orestian legion, there were too many who had heard of the incident to be discreetly taken care of. Besides, there was no point in souring relations with the Selcenians already. Strife within the ranks of what was quickly becoming a coalition party would only slow down the effort to reach the giantess in time.
“Hello? Well? You’re not going to kill him, right?” Andronikos inquired again, waving a hand in front of Icaria’s face. Only then did she realize that she was staring at the ground, motionless and silent, for more than an uncomfortable amount of time.
“No, no, I have no intention of killing anyone. Just bring them to me, or me to them, or - just get me the survivor, damn you!”
“Fine, fine! No need to get angry, okay? Hey, you there!” Andronikos shouted, waving to one of his men, “Go fetch Akrites Ourantzis. Tell him to be quick.”
Icaria remained silent as the soldier jogged into the midst of the bustling Selcenian soldiery, having no desire to speak with Andronikos other than when absolutely necessary. He was almost infuriatingly smug, and as far as Icaria was concerned, that alone was enough to detest him. She made no eye contact with the man as she waited for the Akrites, instead looking at her feet and kicking around a clod of dried mud.
“You… you, uh, you’re working with Volkhard?” Andronikos asked quietly, surprisingly meek compared to his bold words only a few seconds ago, “That’s quite an honor. I’ve always admired the man myself, wanted to be a giantslayer just like him when I was a child. Then I came to the cruel realization that I’m no mage, and such things aren’t learned; it’s either in your blood or it isn’t.”
“You’re wrong.” Icaria curtly replied, “Anyone can learn the arts given enough time and enough drive.”
“And yet it seems only those with magic in their blood live long enough to have that time. Besides, as the only son of a nobleman, I had no say in my destiny. Stewardship, history, strategy, diplomacy, swordsmanship, and so much more, each subject with a tutor of its own, all of this I was expected to learn as heir to the Despotate. No time for studying tomes and learning from sages in between all that.”
“I guess, but even so, there are plenty of giantslayers that don’t know a lick of magic.”
“Any as accomplished as you or Volkhard? Any capable of standing against a giant in a one on one fight?”
Icaria didn’t reply.
“I thought not. I may never be a giantslayer, but I’d at least like to meet the man who’s the greatest of them all - no offense - sadly, I don’t think he’d take kindly to a Selcenian urging him for a story or two, given the fact that he’s a citizen of Q’thuman. Not a good look, tha-”
“Y-you called for me, sir?”
The soldier Andronikos had returned, followed by another far more dingy-looking soldier who Icaria presumed was this Akrites Ourantzis that had seen the giantess up close and personal. The man was ragged, unshaven, and had deep, dark circles under his eyes, indicating restlessness. He was clearly under a great deal of stress.
“First time facing one of the giants?” she asked, hoping to calm the man down prior to her line of questioning. To her surprise, the man shook his head to indicate a negative response, his eyelids twitching noticeably before he responded.
“No, n-no, not the first. I’ve fought them before, I wasn’t always an Akrites, a border guard, I used to serve in the tagmata of Selceus II, and h-had my fair share of fighting the things. It was always after we’d injured them with towed bolt throwers, though, always, never head-on without ballistae! This one, this one, this one had magic, fell magic… we were powerless, powerless, oh so powerless! Captain Theodosia was lifted, lifted through the air, and swallowed, eaten alive, m-”
“Hey!” Icaria interrupted, seizing the panicking Akrites by the shoulders, “Get a grip! I need you to take a few breaths, calm yourself, and then tell me everything unusual about her that you noticed. Andronikos told me that she had a translator with her. Is this true?”
Ourantzis nodded.
“A scraggly red-haired girl, pale and almost as wild in appearance as the giantess herself. Theodosia tried to kill her… that’s what caused the giantess to flip.”
Icaria pouted. This mysterious girl was growing more perplexing by the second. Could she possibly be a giant that had assimilated into human culture like Volkhard? No, that couldn’t be right, Firkon said that she was a prisoner too, before anyone else that he knew of. How, then?
“You said that this girl was acting as a translator for the giantess? What did she say?”
“She asked for provisions. The giantess offered us treasures, splendid treasures; jade sculptures, bossed shields, bejeweled chalices, and polished bronze armor tumbled from her massive hand, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. By the First Emperor, I swear it was enough to buy a city! The giantess just wanted food, and we declined, like fools, like idiots… that we would let her starve instead of becoming rich… what fools we were.”
“You did the right thing, Akrites Ourantzis. The giants are the enemy. Never forget the words of the First Emperor: they are a foe to our very existence.”
Ourantzis shook his head silently. Icaria, without bothering to dismiss him or say another word to the ponderously intent Andronikos, stalked angrily back towards the cavern. Things were already going to hell, and she desperately needed counsel. Shoving her way past a handful of Firkon’s men, Icaria arrived at her belongings, and after rummaging through her backpack for just a bit, slowly withdrew a small amulet. On a silver chain hung a tiny pendant wrought of electrum, in the shape of an eagle with wings outstretched. Embedded in each eye was a most miniature gem, both vibrant pink. After peering around to make sure that she was absolutely alone, Icaria cleared her mind, sat down crosslegged, and clutched the amulet tightly between her hands.
“Hello, father.” she breathed, whispering quietly as the softest breeze, “I need your help.”
~
“This is the fort?!” Teagan exclaimed, as quietly as she could.
She was crouching behind a small bluff in the otherwise featureless flatlands, peeking over at what was apparently the bandit stronghold. To call it a fort was a stretch; it was more of a rubbish heap in a shape almost reminiscent of a wall, with a singular gate blocked off by a rusted portcullis, clearly taken from some other ruin and cut down to size to fit its current station.
“Indeed, this is the fort. The tomkins usually dismantle or colonize any settlements they get their hands on, so empty ruins are a rare find indeed, no matter how dilapidated. The bandits somehow found their way to the base of an old castle, and it wasn’t long until they were patching up the holes with whatever they could find.”
“And you need my help to get in? That thing looks like it’ll fall down the moment the weather gets windy!”
“If it survived last night’s rainstorm, it’ll hold up against anything we’ve got to throw at it. So, um, can you move anything, or do we need to get closer?”
Teagan squinted at the fort. She couldn’t even see the supposed winch that controlled the portcullis, let alone manipulate it. She shook her head balefully.
“Very well.” the landsknekt continued, “In that case, here’s the plan: we’re going to charge at it, and you’re going to open it up as soon as you can. Try and swerve every now and then, because I can almost guarantee they’ll have archers on the wall in no time.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me…” Sihil whispered in Teagan’s ear, leaning over from her perch on the woman’s shoulder, “You can stop arrows with your magic, though, right? That should help!”
“I can only stop arrows that I can see, Sihil, and I haven’t ever tried manipulating more than one object at a time. It’ll help, sure, but I don’t think I’ll last long against a barrage. Hell, even a single shot that I don’t notice is more than enough to drop me, so don’t get your hopes up. If I do happen to go down, um, try not to get squished, mkay?”
“Oh…” Sihil muttered, looking at the plummet down to the ground from Teagan’s shoulder. The fall alone wasn’t too bad, but if Teagan fell on top of her, well, she’d be incredibly lucky to survive.
“Let’s get this over with, then.” the landsknekt growled, hoisting his massive sword over his shoulder, “It’s only going to get lighter as time goes on, and the better they can see us, the better they can fill us full of arrows. Ready?”
Teagan nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
Without another word, the mercenary vaulted over the bluff, landed on his feet a few feet below, and took off running. Teagan followed along with the rest of the landsknekte, sprinting as fast as she could. Teagan’s breath quickened as instinct started to take hold of reason, anticipation of the fight to come overwhelming her senses.
“It doesn’t seem like they’ve noticed us!” Sihil jovially remarked, “Maybe they don’t have sentries on the wall?”
Sihil’s question was promptly answered as an arrow whizzed over Teagan’s head, lodging itself in the ground not even ten paces behind her. She ducked down as far as she could - more out of fear than any actual practical concern - and watched as Teagan’s vast strides carried them ever closer to the imposing structure. Teagan was managing to stop most of the arrows dead in the air, but more than a few managed to slip by, and a visceral squelch followed by an agonized scream was evidence enough that at least one of them had found its mark.
“OPEN THE GATE!” the landsknekt captain screamed as Teagan stumbled to a halt in front of the portcullis.
“I need a sec!” Teagan shouted in reply, “Cover me! I won’t be able to block arrows!”
The landsknekte with crossbows, having already loaded bolts in preparation for the assault, began to return fire at the silhouettes on the wall. Teagan yelped and scrambled back as an arrow whistled its deadly tune before plunking in the mud at her feet. She looked up to the wall, and saw a dark silhouette peering over it, nocking another arrow to fire. With a shout and a yank, Teagan pulled back with all of her might, and her phantasmal grasp pulled the bandit off of the wall. The bandit’s scream was cut short as one of the landsknekte beheaded him the moment he hit the ground.
Teagan squinted, focusing as hard as she could in the midst of the chaos, and was barely able to make out the winch holding the portcullis in place. She focused as hard as she possibly could, and with a good deal of strain and no small amount of pounding pain in her head with every pump of her heart, managed to secure what felt like a solid grip on the thing.
“Teagan! We can’t stay out in the open like this!” Sihil shouted, clinging tightly to fabric of Teagan’s new shirt, given to her by the landsknekte.
There was an loud creaking noise as Teagan hoisted the portcullis slowly upwards, her arms trembling and her temple throbbing with exertion and pain. She was only able to lift it waist-high, but that was enough for the landsknekte, who rolled through the gap and seized the winch, letting Teagan release her hold as the rest crawled under. Her job done, Teagan fell to a sitting position, making sure to brace Sihil with her free hand.
“Teagan? Teagan! Teagan, are you alright?”
Teagan gently rubbed Sihil’s head with her thumb before she could no longer hear, before her tired eyes yielded to darkness.
She heard cries of pain, but none could stir her.
She felt Sihil’s fragile heartbeat against her neck, but even that could not rouse her.
She feared death, but for all her fear, she could not wake.
It was not until she felt an uncomfortable, wet warmth against her face and heard the tramping of boots right next to her ear that she groggily forced her eyes open, arms still shaking and incredibly sore. The landsknekt captain, the blond-bearded man with the massive sword, was leaning over her. His blood had dripped onto her from a gash on his face, and he was pale enough that Teagan knew he was bleeding even more elsewhere.
“You…” she muttered, feeling Sihil, curled up and leaning on her neck, quiver in fear, or perhaps worry.
“The battle is won.” the man bluntly stated, “Most of us are dead, but thieves… will plague this land no more. If we did not fight today, the fight would come to us… and we would have lost. Thank you for helping us win our last battle. I fear I cannot reward you, but there is a man, a sage, who lives in a ruined tower not far from here. Follow the rising sun until you come upon a brook, and follow it downstream...”
The man paused, planting his sword into the ground and using it as a crutch. Teagan knew it was likely that he was mortally wounded. This last advice he was giving her was a dying favor.
“This sage; he will help you. He has been expecting you, I think, though I only realize that now - what a fool I was. Adalina has the tomkins we promised you. Do what you wish with them. Do what you wish with anything here. Only she and I survive, and soon, it will be only her… take what you please. May fortune watch over your every step.”
“And yours.” Teagan replied, rubbing her eyes and pushing herself to a sitting position after letting Sihil amble onto her left palm. She left the captain leaning against the wall of the hold, likely in the spot where he would die. It was no concern of hers, but she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of respect for the man.
“Teagan… what are you going to do with the people being held prisoner here? Please, please don’t tell me you’re going to hurt them. I’d like to think you’re beyond such things, but I don’t see what else you could want with them…” Sihil implored, kneeling pleadingly on Teagan’s open hand.
“There’s barely enough food out here to feed you. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, but as I see it, each and every one of them is a trespasser in this world, and what’s more, I’m sure they would have suffered no differently were I not here. I’m sorry.”
“Wait! Please, wait, the man back there said there’s a tower ahead! Surely you might find food there?”
“I’m starving. People die every day, and judging by what I saw back in the desert, you kill far more of each other than I ever will. I hardly have the strength to walk as it is. I’m sorry, Sihil, I really am, but you can’t stop me. It’s either them or me, and I didn’t come this far to starve in some featureless windswept plain.”