The next morning was quite groggy for the both of them. Athough it was safe to say, Amelia concluded, that her headache was far larger than Matt's, both in actual mass and intensity.
"That is the last time," Amelia said while wincing at the tiny war hammer that was trying to escape from her head, "I will drink that much mead in one sitting…"
"Here, here." Matt toasted while drinking a glass of cold water. They both set their heads down in a collective sigh.
"You know, Matt…" She opened her eyes weakly. He lifted his head and his neck screamed. "I've been thinking."
Matt pushed himself up and set his head on his hands, like water in a chalice.
"Really." He said unemotionally. She nearly took offense to this, but she realized, was Matt ever really emotional about anything? No her mind said. Too bad… even if he had the emotional range of a rock, she still did love him…
Love him…
The words echoed. They were warm, nice.
"What are we going to do next?"
He cocked an eyebrow.
"Do next?" He thought about it. "I really don’t know…"
"Well, you were contracted to… do me in, right?" She gulped. The image flashed in her mind again. Horrible dream; she wished she could forget it forever.
He sighed. "Yeah." He looked up. "I was."
"Well, assuming you're not going to fulfill this contract, they'll probably brand you a traitor. Well, I suppose that depends on the contracters, huh? So who contracted you? Farmers? The local shop merchants? They probably didn’t want me to threaten their profits. Greedy bastards…"
"The king."
"What?! Are you kidding? You're kidding, right? My gods, Matt you better be kidding, or so help me, I will squish you like a bug…" She slapped her hands on her face, and pulled them down slowly, pulling her skin and making her look like some kind of skeleton.
"I'm not. I was contracted for around ten thousand gold."
Her jaw dropped.
"My gods…" But then she knew it. It had to be so…
"Only something very strong would probably drive you to null an agreement like that… Matt?"
"Yes?"
"Do you…" She sighed, and averted her eyes to the ground. Her toes wiggled and curled into each other. Her heart palpitated rapidly, and she was suddenly cold. She shook her head. "Do you love me, Matthew?"
"Never mind." She smiled.
Only one thing was strong enough to break love for gold:
Real love. The kind that makes your stomach flutter and bosom warm. The kind that only bards write about, the kind that makes your brain seem to dance. She wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to press him against her chest.
They looked at each other for a moment, both smiling.
Then, a horn.
Matt looked to the door.
"A Royal Guard horn..."
A sudden cry, small and distant:
"Come out giant! And bring your pet with you!"
Amelia sighed.
"So they know." Her smile was gone, killed by the prospect of losing privacy.
"Yes." He looked up at her. "Amelia… my spear."
A huge cave. It's a wonder why no one noticed it before. Then again, Sturgis thought, these idiot peasants don’t know much of anything, do they? The cave was part of a small mountain range, called Amon Ursba. "Bear mountains." While he hadn't seen any bears near him, he knew they were around, probably intimidated by the company of ten men he had with him. They were nervous, itchy. And who wouldn’t be... Not many men who went to face giant would return alive.
He gave wave of his hand, and a horn blew once more. A flat, loud bellow, or sorts, smaller than the ones used in the frequent wars, but large enough to get your attention. All the men seemed to tense up. Some tightened their grip of their swords and spears, some nocked arrows already, anticipating the bloodshed to come.
Footsteps. Like boulders, each produced a miniature earth quake; some of the men's legs tremble, other's horses ran amuck. Closer… closer.
There she came, glorious as any giant would be. A pretty sight, no doubt. There stood the menace that was to be killed; a tall, red-haired, green-eyed beauty. She stood in the doorway of the cave, leaning on the side, like a wife or lover tempting, yet no love was to be made by the eleven soldiers and one very tall bare-footed girl in a cotton dress.
Sturgis stepped forward.
"Ah…. Ahem… Madame. We understand we have someone in your…. Custody, and we… ah, are sent by the King himself, Noah Ilicain, Envoy to the Gods, to retrieve him. Cooperate with us, and uh…ahh, we may let you live."
His words were to her, but his eyes wandered to the females' 'secondary' eyes, where males always seem to be interested in talking to.
Amelia shifted, and her toes dug into the ground.
"I have no idea what you speak of, Master Knight." She flashed him a coy smile, blushing. She bent over, hands on her knees… revealing her cleavage. "I harbor no prisoner, sir." She cocked her head slightly, and smiled.
Sturgis' heart fluttered. Gods, for a giant she sure is…. Beautiful… He wished that he could just jump in and…He felt something stir in his greaves. WAIT! No, nooooo, no…
The smile left his face.
"Ah, milady….er, um, we require that you cooperate, and umm…" His eyes were wandering again. She blushed, and bit her lip. He'd had enough.
"Oh, Gods, forget it; just kill her!"
The archers fired instantly, seemingly unaffected by the giantess'…assets. A group of arrows flew toward her face. She yelped, and fell down behind, with arrows in her face and arm.
A roar grew from the cave, and the others thought it was an actual giant. But nay, here rideth Matthew, on his steed, Arod.
He threw his spear into the air. It arced, whistled, and struck an archer right in the chest, piercing all the way through. The archer fell of his horse, dead instantly. Forward he came, at full speed, giving the archers no chance to reload. He rode to the nearest one, and with a swing, punched another ground-bound archer in the face. A spray of blood permeated the air, and when he hit the ground, the nose had been driven in the brain. Matt rode on, blood on his fist and face. By the time he got to his spear and yanked it out of the corpse, the archers had a draw on him. Sturgis was livid.
"For the Gods' sakes, KILL HIM! Do NOT let him live!"
Six arrows flew, all vectors fixed on Matt's head. He ducked, missing them by millimeters. Air vacuumed above his head, and a few long strands of brown hair fell. Instantly, he was on to the next archer. The young boy, not even eighteen, attempted to draw his sword. It was only halfway out of the sheath when the spearhead entered his left eye and into his brain.
Amelia watched in horror. This was her Matt: her tiny Matt, cold and ending life with Godly efficiency. She wanted to scream, but the air in her lungs was frozen with fear.
The brain matter was not even off the broad spearhead when it entered another man's chest. It passed into the chest cavity, cut the right sides of the heart, right lung, split the esophagus in half, and severed the spinal cord. The man wanted to scream, but he couldn't move.
Matt was off his horse, and ran about. He grabbed the young boy's sword, a long, double-edged blade. He swung it around. One man had ran forward, screaming, battle axe in hand. He brought it down with force, and it cut into stone an entire inch. Matt dodged left, and severed the man's arms. He ran around wildly, screaming, blood pouring out of the arteries wildly. Another one had an arrow nocked, and aimed it at him. Matt started to bolt to him. It was about twenty yards to him. The arrow fired, and entered Matt's left shoulder. By the time the archer grabbed another arrow, Matt was upon him, and the blade entered his liver. Black blood spilt out the exit wound.
Sturgis was beside himself. He finally drew his sword, and charged at Matt. Matt parried, parried again, and finally had a chance to strike. The sword tried to strike his chest, but Sturgis stabbed back, only to cut Matt's right arm. He winced and yelped in pain. His eyes flamed with rage, and teeth gritted in hate. The next strike of Sturgis was caught, and directed to the ground. Matt stomped on the flat edge of the blade, driving it in the soft soil patch.
He jumped up, and landed one of his feet near the hilt of the blade, forcing it out of Sturgis' hands. Sturgis looked up, and the hilt of Matt's procured sword cracked his nose. He was on the ground, followed by Matt on top of him. Matt's left hand found Sturgis' neck, choking, and the right held the blade to his face.
The other five soldiers were on the ground-bound pair with nock arrows and readied swords.
Sturgis smiled. He held his hands up shortly as if to show no harm or surrender.
"We both live, Matthew…" Blood dripped from his crooked nose.
"We both die, Matthew." He gave a shrug. "Your choice, friend."
Slowly, Matt lifted the blade, but the grip on his neck did not loosen.
"You tell your king something." He said with fierce anger.
"Listen well: You tell your pig of a king that I void his contract. You tell him he can rub it on his royal jewels."
He brought the blade back up to his face.
"Tell him to leave us alone." His eyes flashed in fire.
"Leave us alone, or I will pierce the man's heart with my spear.
Sturgis smiled softly.
"Of course, Master Matthew."
Matt released him, but the swords and arrows did not release him.
Sturgis motioned to the guard.
"Collect the dead. We're leaving."
Reluctantly, one by one, strings untauted, and swords were sheathed. Matt walked back to Amelia, still on the ground, still horror struck.
A call back: "Master Matthew! Your spear that will 'pierce the king's heart.' Hahahaha…" A whistle later, his own white spear covered in blood stuck into the ground next to him.
Slowly, like light in mist, they faded away. They went back into the cave, wordlessly.
The last of the arrows in Amelia's arm and face were pulled out. They sat in a miniscule pan of water, only slightly tinged with blood. Only one arrow had penetrated past her dermis, and pierced a small blood vessel on her arm. To Matt, it was like a hosepipe when he took it out.
"Matthew, I…"
He pulled the arrow from his shoulder. It stung like no other, and a short stream of blood that had welled up behind the arrow splattered onto the ground. He winced.
"Matthew, I -"
"You what Amelia?" His voice stopped her cold. He looked up at her, eyes full of hate. Not at her, but… just hate. The hate she knew.
"Spit it out."
She averted her eyes downward.
"Nevermind."