Several days later and five hundred leagues away from Rismark, Prince Valdan found that he was too was missing his family, and his home as well. Belena’s human-sized younger brother had enjoyed his time travelling by himself immeasurably. He had seen sights and experienced events that he never would have had he stayed in Vandan his whole life, and the freedom and lack of responsibilities that came with being alone abroad had been very enjoyable as well. But, after several months away from home, he had begun to feel lonely again, and he longed to see his father and sisters again, even if only for a short time. That was why he had decided that, starting tomorrow, he would begin making his way back north to Vandan.
At present, he found himself in a miserable-looking inn on the outskirts of a village that itself looked rather cheerless. It was located in the foothills of a large range of misty, sharp-peaked, craggy mountains, which the local inhabitants called the Tugusars and which lay between Valdan and his distant home to the north. Tomorrow morning, he would have to begin traversing one of the few passes that led through the mountains, a route which looked neither very welcoming nor very safe. But he had no other choice, unless he wanted to return by the same road he had already travelled, a much longer and more circuitous route which curved far to the east.
While he was debating which option to take, he looked around the main room of the little inn, wondering if any of its patrons were worth beginning a conversation with. Most of them seemed to be the same sort of rowdy, uncouth, heavy-drinking men that he’d usually encountered in inns like this, and who were a lot different than the more well-mannered folks from back home to whom he was accustomed. On his travels so far, he’d managed to make friends with several strangers he’d encountered in these kinds of places, but mostly he tried to keep himself inconspicuous and stay out of trouble. It seemed that that might be the best option for tonight as well. Near the door of the inn sat a few local peasants and farmers, but most of the other customers seemed a lot shiftier. Some of them were playing cards or other games of chance (and which seemed to involve more shouting and grabbing each other than actual playing), while several seemed to be more interested in him and were watching him intently. In one corner sat a massive cloaked figure whose face was obscured by a hood, but who also gave Valdan the impression of watching him. He quickly turned his attention back to his drink, and his thoughts to the journey that lay ahead.
“That’s a fine-looking sword,” a loud voice suddenly spoke in his ear.
Valdan turned to his right and was face-to-face with one of the men who had been busy gambling at the table behind him. He was a short but brawny-looking man, bald but with plenty of facial hair and gleaming eyes. He was pointing down at the sword that hung from Valdan’s belt. Valdan glanced down as well, then looked back up at the man, unsure of what to say.
“Oh, well, thank you,” he replied. “It was my father’s once; he gave it to me before I left from home.”
“Really? I was hoping you’d be able to tell me where I could find a sword like that myself. It looks pretty valuable.”
“I suppose so, but unfortunately, I think that this one is unique. But if you travel north to my homeland of Vandan, I’m sure you’ll be able to find similar swords there for sale.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I wanted to buy one. I said I was looking for one. Now, why don’t you hand it over?”
Valdan had been afraid that it would come to this – this wasn’t the first time on his journey that a robber had tried to relieve him of his sword or other belongings. Usually it was only one man, sometimes two, who threatened him, and he’d been able either to fight them off or make an escape. This time, however, things looked a lot less advantageous for him. Every other ruffian in the inn seemed to have suddenly become very interested in him, whilst the few peasants who had been sitting near the door quickly got up and made a run for it, leaving their drinks behind. He turned around to the bar, but innkeeper seemed to have quietly fled as well. There was only one door and a flight of stairs that led to the upper rooms, and both of them were blocked by the men who were encircling him. Only the huge cloaked figure in the corner stayed still, not moving at all.
“All right, all right, I’ll get it for you,” Valdan said, as he unsheathed his sword. But then he quickly leapt over the bar counter and pressed his back against the wall, giving himself a slightly more defensible position. His action didn’t make anyone flinch, however: in fact, it just drew a lot of contemptuous laughter from his opponents.
“Why don’t you tell us your name, lad, before we start cutting you up?” the bald-headed villain said. “Mine’s Kereg, by the way…not that you’ll be knowing it for long.”
“It’s Prince Valdan. I am the son of King Alban and Queen Valerie of Vandan.”
“Vandan? Never heard of it! And a prince, you say? Sounds like a load of bosh to me! Well, I’m not going to hang around and wait for an honest answer. Hand over that fancy sword of yours, or we’ll come and take it!”
Even though his odds didn’t look good, Valdan had no intention of obeying. The sword had been his father’s weapon throughout his whole life, and Alban had taken it with him on many travels and through many tight corners far more perilous than the one Valdan now found himself in. So, he lifted the sword up in a defensive position and waited for the attack to come. One of the men behind Kereg came dashing past his leader and leapt at Valdan, sword raised, only to immediately fall back with a scream of pain as Valdan drove his sword down into the attacker’s leg. The group of thugs immediately all took a step back: it seemed that none of them had expected their young target to actually fight back. Another attacker leapt over the counter to Valdan’s left, but a blow to the head by a well-aimed ale bottle laid him low for the moment as well.
“Enough prancing around!” Kereg yelled. “Come on, boy, let’s see what you’re really made of.”
He and three others all lifted their swords and prepared to charge, but suddenly two of them fell down to the ground, dead. The other criminals, and Valdan as well, all gasped in surprise. The mysterious hooded figure who had been sitting and watching silently had decided to join in, seemingly on Valdan’s side, and had made quick work of the two ruffians with a huge longsword. Valdan didn’t have time to thank his unexpected ally, however, as Kereg now came running towards him, whilst the rest of the crowd all concentrated their attack on the immense stranger, who didn’t seem to be having too much trouble in taking on ten attackers at once.
“Friend of yours?” Kereg spat at him. “Too bad – my friends will make short work of him, while I deal with you!”
“You’d better hope they will, or else you’ll be in trouble,” Valdan retorted, as he dodged a blow aimed at his head and managed to land a hit on Kereg’s side. The would-be robber snarled in pain, but he managed to get his own back with a swing that hit Valdan on his left shoulder, making him stagger backwards. He almost dropped his sword, but he quickly pulled it back to him as Kereg loomed over him. Before his opponent could finish him off, however, Valdan quickly slashed out at Kereg’s foot, his sword leaving a deep red gash across the ankles. Kereg screamed again and dropped to his knees, while Valdan wasted no time in getting back to his own feet and pressing the tip of his sword against the other man’s neck. Kereg was about to counterattack, but thought twice about it when he felt the cold, sharp steel tip tickling his throat.
“Looks like I underestimated you, lad,” Kereg said, his tone of voice suddenly shifting. “You’re not such a pathetic little welp after all. How about joining me and my gang, eh? You look like someone who’s in need of some friends.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Valdan asked. “You just tried to rob me and kill me! Besides, it doesn’t look like your ‘gang’ has a lot of members left.”
Kereg looked around and saw that he was right: of his fellow thugs, at least five lay dead on the floor of the inn, whilst the rest seem to have run off in fright. The only other person left standing was the cloaked and hooded stranger who had come to Valdan’s aid. This mysterious figure, Valdan realized with amazement, stood nearly nine feet tall, nearly as high as the ceiling of the room. In his state of surprise, he was nearly caught off guard by Kereg, who attempted to swat away his sword and make an escape. But Valdan managed to grab a nearby bottle and break it over the villain’s head, knocking him out cold.
“You shouldn’t leave him like that,” the gigantic figure said in a whispered voice. “He’ll come back for revenge. It’s better to finish him off.”
“I…I don’t want to do that,” Valdan said, looking up with trepidation at the figure towering over him. He tried peering up under the hood, to see the face of whoever was speaking to him. “I don’t like killing people, even scum like him. I’m grateful for your help, stranger, but I’ll be fine on my own from here on.”
Instead of an answer, he only got a little derisive laugh in return. As he was busy wrapping up the small wound in his shoulder, without warning, the figure lunged forward and grabbed Valdan around the waist, tucking him underneath an arm as though he were a small child, before heading for the door. He tried fighting back, but his own strength was much too little in comparison and, with his arms pinned to his side, he couldn’t reach for his sword. He had no choice to go along with this strange individual and hope that, whatever was about to happen to him, it wouldn’t be the last thing that did.
Giantess World
