Giants (18 page)

“Now is not the time for me to tell you about that.”

Joash rubbed his side where Elidad had kicked him.

“You are one of us,” she whispered. “That’s why I didn’t let Elidad beat you.”

Joash frowned. Did she mean he was a singer? He worked to his feet as Elidad scowled at him, carting another rock.

“I’d better work,” Joash said.

Adah nodded.

The way into the cave deepened, and despite his sore back, Joash found himself
in
the rubble as he pried out chunks. Then the rocks above him groaned and shifted. He crawled out and stood panting.

“What’s wrong?” Elidad asked.

“The rubble is unsteady,” Joash said. “It’ll crash and bury me.”

Elidad squinted at the stones. “If we clear
all
the rubble we’ll be here for days. No, we must risk a small hole, straight through.”

“In that case,” Joash said, “shouldn’t we remove the highest rocks?”

Elidad shrugged, and yanked out another stone. The wall groaned ominously.

Joash went back to work, but now he removed only the higher rocks until he reached the top of the arched ceiling.

For a time Elidad studied him. The warrior finally grunted, “Work faster.”

Joash tried to obey. It was an oven in the wall. His hands were wet with sweat. The rocks tore the knees to his pants and put rents in the rest of his clothing.

Gens finished his water-skin. Herrek waited, ever vigilant. Adah let Joash sip from her water-skin. When she put it away, she tucked the parchment in her sash and notched one of her poisoned arrows. She had yet to remove her cloak, although she stepped into the shade.

Joash didn’t hear the grinding stone sounds anymore. But he knew the evil in the cave waited, much as Herrek waited. Joash made the opening only crawlspace large. If the Nephilim followed, then they would have to take time to widen the opening.

“Faster,” Elidad shouted. “Work faster.” He was becoming frantic.

As he lay prone Joash pried the stones, rolled them past his stomach, and used his feet to push them to Gens or Elidad. He paused and wiped sweat from his eyes, only to rub rock-dust into them. He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes more.

“Keep working,” Elidad shouted.

“Hand me my spear,” Joash said.

“Work!”

“I need my spear so I can pry out a difficult stone.”

Elidad stood at the crawlspace’s entrance, sunlight surrounding his head like a nimbus.

“I think I see some emeralds,” Joash said. “I need my spear to reach that far.”

Elidad jumped down. Moments later, he shoved the spear point-first to Joash.

It was too dark to see ahead, but Joash wanted his spear when he broke through. Dread of the waiting evil filled him. He pulled out another stone. A waft of sepulchral air blew into his face. He blanched. The odor smelled like frankincense, myrrh, and other burial spices. He picked up his spear and thrust it at the opening.

“What is it?” Elidad shouted.

Joash winced. Whatever waited for them must know the prey had arrived.

“Groom!”

Joash crawled out fast. In his haste he knocked his head on the ceiling, and a sharp rock scratched his forearm, drawing blood. Joash panted beside an enraged Elidad.

“I reached the end,” Joash whispered.

The effect on the others was electric. Elidad grinned with greed and rubbed his hands. Gens smoothed his mustache and blinked in amazement. Herrek stepped beside them. His face was solid like stone. He waited, tense as a coiled snake.

Then Herrek examined the entrance. “It must be larger.”

“Groom,” Elidad snapped.

Joash was drained. The crypt, for that is what it was, was too much. Ancient horrors awaited them. Perhaps treasure did as well, but no earthly goods were worth facing the evil in the crypt. What made the feeling so certain was that the Nephilim had bewitched the others in order to lure out the hidden evil. Mimir the Wise, well had he been named.

“Groom!” Elidad roared, buffeting him.

Joash staggered sideways.

“Finish your task,” Elidad said.

Joash shook his head.

Elidad scowled and knotted his big hands into fists.

Joash raised his spear as he backed away. He wouldn’t rush into Draugr’s Crypt. Nor would he allow others to beat him. He’d taken enough abuse, he would take no more.

“Groom,” Herrek said. “Do not threaten your superiors.”

Joash shook his head again.

Herrek lifted
his
spear.

Gens had finally stopped blinking and wormed his way into the crawlspace. A rock clattered. Gens grunted and pushed the stone behind with his feet. Elidad went to the crawlspace and hefted the rock, heaving it aside.

The tension drained and Herrek went to the entrance. Adah frowned at Joash, as if she wanted to tell him something but didn’t have the words.

“You...” Her frown increased.

“An ancient evil waits in the cave,” Joash said.

Adah nodded slowly.

“I don’t think your poisoned arrows will harm it,” Joash added.

She smiled tightly. “We shall see.”

Joash sat on a rock, exhausted and dispirited. How were any of them going to survive? Somehow, he had to think out a plan. But his mind was too numb.

Gens and Elidad worked feverishly. The crawlspace grew.

Adah set aside her bow and arrow and made a fire. With the fire she lit torches. Joash accepted one. So did Gens. Elidad dusted off his hands, belted his longsword, and picked up his shield and spear. He pushed them into the hole and crawled through. In moments the spear and shield crashed into the crypt. Herrek followed next, then Gens, and finally Adah. Joash sat alone outside the hole, his torch radiating unneeded heat. He didn’t want to face Nephilim by himself, but he was terrified of meeting eon-old Tarag. Surely they watched him, even though he saw no sign of them.

Joash hurried to the hole and crawled over stones. The dry air made the torch crackle. His spear clattered and then he dropped into the crypt.

The others had already headed deeper. Joash saw their bobbing torches. Stalactites fanged down from the high ceiling, and stalagmites rose up to challenge them. He was in the maw of the beast. Now he must go down its throat, and meet his grim fate in its belly. The slippery floor descended at a steep rate. Joash worked his way carefully, the torch throwing dim light all around. Where in the hidden shadows did the evil wait? He rested against a stalagmite. The steep and slippery floor made the way difficult.

The cave was huge so giants could easily maneuver here. The voices of Adah and Elidad drifted to him, eerily echoing. They argued, and Elidad sounded angry.

The sepulchral chill made Joash shiver. It was so different from the furnace-heat of the sun outside. He hurried after the others, hating being alone.

The torch flickered. Joash lifted it, trying to peer farther into the darkness. Where was the hidden evil? He had heard it before. He hadn’t imagined the noise. Then his foot almost went out from under him. He threw up his hands to regain his balance and lost hold of the torch. It fell, but the resin was extremely flammable, and it continued to burn. Joash went to pick it up. Wonder widened his eyes. He thrust the torch near a footprint. The print was human-shaped, but only had three toes.

What was heavy enough to make prints in stone? Trolocks surely, piles of animated stones. Joash studied the print. The rock on the sides of the print was much lighter colored than the rest of the floor. This footprint had been recently made.

Joash clutched his spear and hurried after the others. They stood before a massive door, arguing. Adah urged caution. Elidad laughed at her fear. Herrek wondered aloud where the enemies were.

“Perhaps they know I am the Champion of Teman Clan,” Herrek told the others.

“Look,” Adah told Elidad, shining her torch on the parchment. “That is Draugr Trolock-Maker’s mark.”

Elidad frowned at the parchment.

“Now, notice the mark on the door,” she said, lifting her torch to illuminate it.

Joash and the others saw a stone mask embedded in the door. The door was black, but the mask was made out of a giant bloodred ruby.

Elidad dropped his spear and shield onto the ground. Then he unsheathed a dagger and pried the ruby mask from the door, plopping it into a sack.

“Open the door,” Herrek said. “We will slay the enemies within.”

Joash became curious about Herrek’s certainty. “How do you know enemies await us?”

“I feel them.”

“Yes,” Adah said, “as do I.”

“Bah,” Elidad said. “Treasure awaits us, nothing else.”

Joash knelt and inspected the dusty floor. Within the reach of the door, the dust had been moved.

“Don’t open it,” he said.

The others scowled at him.

Joash tried one last time. “Inside the crypt awaits what Nephilim fear. We rush to our doom if we go on.”

“Madness,” Elidad hissed.

“What do you suggest?” Adah asked.

“That we trick the Nephilim,” Joash said.

“How?” she asked.

“Let them come, as they surely plan to do,” Joash said. “We’ll hide behind stalagmites. Let them be the first to open the door and face Draugr’s Curse.”

“You spout cowardice,” Herrek said. “We will enter and slay the enemy.”

“And gain treasure untold,” Elidad added.

Adah nodded slowly, saying, “We will also learn great wisdom.”

Joash inspected their lurid, torch-lit faces. He glanced at Elidad’s belt, where the leopard-skin pouch hung. Elidad clutched the pouch and glared at Joash. Joash’s last hope fled.

“Open the door,” Herrek said.

Gens grunted as he pulled at the stone handle. The massive door refused to budge. Elidad stepped up and helped. Still the door didn’t move.

“Groom,” Herrek said.

With a fatalistic shrug, Joash helped. Adah notched an arrow. Herrek eagerly raised his spear. The massive door groaned, but didn’t open. At last Herrek set aside his weapons, and pulled. The great obsidian door to Draugr’s Crypt inched open. Then it halted, and refused to move.

Herrek picked up his weapons, as did Elidad his. Before any of them could stop him, Gens slipped through the narrow opening. Elidad roared with rage and squeezed after Gens. Herrek followed, and then Adah.

At last, Joash the Groom, despite his fear and feeling of hopelessness, screwed up his courage. He, too, slipped into the crypt.

Chapter Twelve

The Crypt

He was given power to give breath to the image of the first beast, so that it could speak and cause all that refused to worship the image to be killed.

-- Revelation 13:15

An aura of sinister purpose and dread rituals filled the crypt. The stench of lingering foulness was strong, and the torchlight seemed to be smothered by an inky power. They wandered into a forest of strange-colored rocks. The rocks, or the separate jumbles of them, towered higher than even Herrek. They had to weave their way around the many piles. Joash made certain not to touch any. They horrified him, and they seemed hideously unclean. Even worse, out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw them move.

They were trolocks, but dead ones, surely. Their animating spirits must have perished ages ago. That’s why they’d toppled. But, such an explanation went against everything Joash had been taught. Spirits were immortal. How then could they perish?

Maybe they slept, Joash thought in horror. His mouth turned dry like ashes. If the trolocks slept and should awaken...

No, the piles of weird-colored stones weren’t trolocks. They were simply a strange aspect of the shrine. But something had walked and had made the three-toed footprint in the rock floor outside. Something had opened the massive door and disrupted the eon-old dust. And something had made a sound of rock grinding against rock.

Elidad laughed. Joash jumped. The human sound didn’t fit this lair of evil. Here, only alien voices should speak, and those in sibilant whispers or infernal shouts.

“Look,” Elidad said. “Draugr.”

Adah and Joash lifted their torches and moved toward the sound of Elidad’s voice. Adah gasped. Herrek called upon Elohim. Like a sleepwalker, spellbound, Joash advanced upon the incredible sight. This was beyond any dream. This was a nightmare come to life. No more would he doubt the old tales. No more would he wonder why the Shining Ones had come down from the Celestial Realm to help man defeat the all-conquering
bene elohim
. His mouth worked, but no sounds came forth.

“The
bene elohim
Draugr Trolock-Maker,” whispered Adah. She stood beside Joash, and added her muted torchlight to his. Even so, it wasn’t enough to let them truly view this vast and incredible sight.

Draugr, or his long-lost skeleton, sat on a titanic obsidian throne. Such was the arid cold of the crypt that shreds of flesh still clung to the grim titan. He was monstrous, thrice the size of Mimir, and on him hung a lank coat of chainmail armor. A conical helmet clad his skull, and the withered flesh around his eyes and forehead made the empty sockets seem bottomless. A terrible force seemed to radiate from the lich, and around his waist was girded a mighty belt. Hanging from the belt was a scabbard and sword, which only a large giant could hope to wield. An impossibly huge ruby served the sword as a pommel. The metal hilt was spotless. And the hilt, like the chainmail, reflected the torchlight like silver. Yet, it seemed darker and stronger than any mortal silver.