The Ogre's Pact (39 page)

“The hill giants!”

Hrodmar looked to Gavorial for guidance, but the stone giant had none to offer. He merely regarded Brianna with his gray eyes, a thumb and single long finger rubbing his chin.

Brianna turned back to her father, determined to have the earls solidly on her side before any trouble with the giants began. “Without Goboka and his horde to concern you, the time has come for you to make amends for your tragic mistake, Father.”

A suspicious light flashed in the king’s eyes. “What are you talking about amends?”

Raising her voice so she could be heard throughout the chamber, the princess replied, “As your daughter and the princess of Hartsvale, I demand your abdication.”

“Don’t mock me, foolish girl!” her father yelled. His eyes were gleaming with a mad purple light. “In spite of my mistakes, I’ve been a good king!”

“Really?” Brianna scoffed. “Would that be because you murder your queens, or because you were about to deliver Hartsvale into the hands of the ogres?”

“Enough!”

The king lashed out, striking her with the back of his hand. He hit her harder than Goboka had on Coggin’s Rise and sent her tumbling over the banquet table into the empty seats beyond. The chairs toppled over, spilling her to the floor, and all she could do was lie on the cold stone with the blow still ringing in her ears.

Brianna heard the table being dragged aside and knew her father was coming. She shook her head clear, then grabbed a chair back and pulled herself to her feet. The princess found Wendel and three earls standing between her and her father.

Wendel gave her a clean cloth. “Perhaps you’d like to wipe your face.” he suggested. “Then I think the earls would like to hear what you have to say.”

“Thank you.” As Brianna stanched her bleeding nose, she discreetly searched the shadows on the other side of the room. The princess found Tavis peeking out from behind a pillar, Bear Driller in his hand.

“Traitors!” Camden yelled, glaring at the earls. Despite his accusation, the king did not call on his giants for support. Instead, he returned his gaze to the princess. In a sly voice, he said, “I see your game now. You’re jealous of Celia.”

Brianna did not understand her father’s purpose. By now, he should have been threatening the earls, not making flimsy accusations against her. “Why would I be jealous of Celia?”

“Because you want to be queen.”

“I would have been content to wait-had you allowed me that choice,” Brianna replied. She turned to address the earls. “But what I would not do is bear an ogre’s child, especially not when that child could one day became the king of Hartsvale.”

The princess did not need to spell matters out for the earls. Since she was the single heir to Hartsvale’s throne, one day her offspring would have the only legitimate claim to the throne. If that child was half-ogre, the earls would be left with a very unpleasant choice: pledge their fealty to a brutal savage, or wage a war of rebellion against the rightful heir of a thousand-year dynasty.

Brianna allowed the earls a moment to ponder what she had implied, then finished. “I’d rather die before I did that to Hartsvale.”

The king applauded, cutting short any reaction from the earls. “Your dedication to Hartsvale is most appreciated-but hardly necessary.” He smirked at Brianna, then said, “Happily, soon you will no longer be my only child.”

“What?” Brianna gasped.

“Celia is with child,” the king replied. He turned toward the far end of the room, where chairs and crockery still lay strewn over the floor after his fit of temper. “Ask her, if you like.”

High Priest Simon rose from behind the toppled table, his hands dripping with blood. “The queen is in no condition to answer questions, Your Majesty.” He glared across the room at Camden, then added, “And if she survives, I doubt she will be bearing you any children.”

Camden’s face went pale, and he whirled on Brianna. “This is your fault!” he screamed. “See what your treachery has done?”

“The princess has done nothing,” said Earl Wendel. “But you-you have abdicated your crown.”

“Hear! Hear!” shouted an earl. He repeated the cry, and this time many more voices joined in. “Hear! Hear!”

Camden turned to his giants. “Stomp them!” he ordered. “Smash them all!”

Hrodmar raised a foot to obey, but Gavorial grasped the frost giant’s arm. “It is our duty to protect the king’s life, not perform his murders,” said the stone giant. He knelt at Camden’s side and held out a chair-sized palm. “Come along gently, my king. There is no longer anything here for you.”

The wild-eyed king looked slowly around the room, searching for a friendly face. As he looked into each set of eyes, they turned as hard and cold as his had been the last few days. When he found no warmth even in the countenance of his most trusted advisor and friend, High Priest Simon, Camden slumped into the stone giant’s open palm. He pointed to a golden circlet lying on the floor near Celia, amidst the bones of greasy fowl and pools of spilled mead.

“My crown.” he said. “I want my crown.”

****

From among the banquet chamber’s shadowy pillars. Tavis Burdun watched as Earl Wendel picked up the grease-stained crown. He did not give it to Camden, but turned instead and passed it to Brianna. “This no longer belongs to your father,” he said. “Now it is yours. May you wear it in health.”

“Hear! Hear!” chorused the earls.

As far as the scout could tell, none of the earls realized that he was in the room, and Princess Brianna, now Queen Brianna, was too busy accepting her subjects’ congratulations to concern herself with him.

It was just as well. Crowds, even those as small as the gathering around Brianna, made firbolgs uncomfortable. Besides, as soon as the giants left, it would be time for Tavis to return to the Weary Giant. He could already imagine the mess the place had become under Livia’s neglectful eye-if she and the other children had not burned the place to the ground!

Gavorial closed his hand around Camden’s forlorn figure, then rose to his full height, standing so tall that his head vanished into the cavernous darkness of the chamber’s ceiling. But instead of turning to leave, the stone giant faced Hrodmar and motioned toward Brianna.

“If you will bring the queen, it’s time we left this place,” he said. Although the stone giant was speaking to Hrodmar, his voice filled the chamber like a knelling bell.

Tavis uttered a silent curse. When Gavorial had convinced Camden to abdicate peacefully, the firbolg had hoped the giants would cause no trouble. Now, the scout was glad he had elected to stay hidden until the pair were safely gone. His arrow already nocked. Tavis drew his bowstring back, but did not fire.

In the center of the chamber, Earl Wendel was the first to recover from the shock. He took a hand axe from his belt and stepped in front of Brianna, glaring up into the darkness that hid Gavorial’s head.

“What do you mean by this treachery?” As the earl spoke, he motioned for his fellows to gather around. “We won’t let you take our queen without a fight!”

“Then you’ll die!” chortled Hrodmar.

The frost giant raised his foot to begin kicking earls aside, but Gavorial held out a restraining hand.

“There’s no need for violence,” the stone giant said. Then, addressing Wendel, he said. “But you and the other earls must understand: a promise was made, and it will be kept.”

Wendel scowled up into the darkness. “Why?” he demanded. “Goboka’s dead!”

“But the Twilight Spirit is not,” Brianna added.

“Quiet!” Hrodmar boomed. The frost giant kneeled down.

Tavis braced himself, waiting for Hrodmar to lower his head just a little bit more.

Hrodmar stretched a hand over the earls, reaching for the queen. “Don’t talk about the spirit!” he ordered. “That name is not for humans to hear!”

“Why not?” Brianna asked. “What is there to hide in the Twilight Vale?”

“Quiet!”

To emphasize the consequences of ignoring his demand, Hrodmar slapped his hand down on an earl’s head. The man did not even cry out, but simply collapsed to the ground in a jumbled mass of bones and flesh.

Tavis clenched his teeth, reminding himself that even if he had loosed his arrow, it would not have saved the man-or Brianna. To do that, he had to kill the frost giant, and to kill the frost giant, he had to wait for the proper shot. Somehow, that knowledge did not make it any easier to keep his fingers on the bowstring.

Gavorial stooped over and regarded the frost giant with an air of impatience. “Was that truly necessary?” The stone giant looked to Brianna, then said, “If you know of the Twilight Spirit, then you must also know that none of us have any choice except to obey him. Now, will you come along quietly-or must Hrodmar kill more of your earls?”

Hrodmar leaned forward to stretch his hand over Wendel’s head, giving Tavis a clear view of a cavelike ear canal. The scout loosed his arrow. The shaft hissed through the air, then disappeared into its target.

Hrodmar roared in pain and cupped a hand over his ear, almost crushing several earls as he crashed to his side. He thrashed madly about for a moment, banging his head against the floor. Several pieces of stone facade crashed off the walls, then the giant finally fell silent and died.

Tavis stepped from the shadows with his second arrow nocked and drawn. He did not fire, for Brianna had instructed him to leave one giant alive. “Gavorial, I suggest you take the king and leave.”

The stone giant glared at Tavis thoughtfully, showing no surprise or shock at the firbolg’s sudden appearance. “Even you cannot make such a shot twice in a row, Tavis Burdun.”

Despite his words, Gavorial drew himself up to his full height, so that his head would be concealed in the shadows above.

“That first arrow was just to let you know we’re not making idle threats,” Tavis said. He trained his second arrow on Brianna’s chest. “This one is for Brianna.”

“I see,” came the stone giant’s voice.

Brianna looked up into the shadows. “Do you?” she asked. “I have no idea why your spirit wants me, and I really don’t care. What’s important is that he understands this: Tavis Burdun hits what he aims at-and it the Twilight Spirit sends anyone else to abduct me, it will be the Queen of Hartwick that Tavis targets.”

“A profound strategy,” Gavorial said, genuine admiration in his voice. “The spirit has no use for a dead queen.”

The stone giant slowly backed to the exit, then paused beneath the looming arch and bowed to Brianna. “I leave you in peace,” he said. “And let this warning be my parting gift: Constantly be on guard, for there are many giants, and sooner or later they must all answer to the Twilight Spirit.”

With that, Gavorial pushed through the huge doors and disappeared from sight. Tavis breathed a long sigh of relief and lowered Bear Driller. He fired the arrow into the floor, and it shattered into a hundred pieces.

“Long live the queen!” the scout yelled.

He repeated the words, and when the earls joined in, the cheer was as thunderous as the voice of any giant.

“So now what?” asked Avner. The youth stood on the ramparts of Castle Hartwick, looking across the Clearwhirl’s eastern channel. In the distance, the stone giant Gavorial was disappearing into the dusk, the former king of Hartsvale gripped securely in his hand. “Now that you’re the queen, what’s going to happen to us?”

Brianna laid a warm hand on the youth’s shoulder. “I don’t know,” she said, “What do you suppose should happen to you?”

The boy cast an apprehensive glance over at Basil. “What do you think?” he asked. “We did steal those books, you know.”

The verbeeg scowled. “Stealing implies personal ownership, which, as you know, is a rather archaic concept-especially among my people,” he said. “Besides, books are no good unless someone’s using them. They shouldn’t sit endlessly on some shelf.”

“That’s not a very good answer,” Tavis said.

Basil scowled. “Very well, then,” he said. “I suppose we shall have to return them to Earl Dobbin’s family.”

Avner looked up at the scout. “Is that okay with you?”

Tavis shook his head sternly. “Hardly,” he said. “Returning what you have stolen is a good start, but I don’t see how that alone will discourage you from trying it again.”

Avner scowled. After all he had gone through, it hardly seemed fair to punish him for something he had done in what felt like the ancient past-but he resisted the urge to say so. He knew Tavis well enough to realize that complaining would only make matters worse.

“I’ve thought of just punishments,” Brianna said, “Basil, the royal libraries are a mess. Your sentence shall be to clean and organize them.”

The verbeeg’s eyes lit up. “With pleasure!” he said. “How many volumes do you have-approximately?”

“We have exactly two thousand three hundred and twelve,” Brianna replied. “And I should warn you that the one thing we do possess is a complete list. If even one comes up missing-“

“They won’t,” the verbeeg promised. “Who needs to steal when he can borrow?”

“What about me?” Avner asked, hoping his punishment would be something just as fitting.

Brianna smiled. “Once your arm is better, I think you should stay here to clean out Blizzard’s stall-for a year.”

“A year!” he gasped.

“Is something wrong with that?” Tavis inquired.

Avner quickly swallowed his shock. “No, of course not,” he said. “I was just thinking that a year will be a long time, away from you and Livia and the others back at the inn.”

“I don’t think you’ll be missing them at all,” said the new queen. She clasped Tavis’s arm, then added, “I intend to keep all of you very close at hand.”