Authors: Marita Conlon-Mckenna
In Deep Dark Wood (8 page)
‘It’s Bella!’
‘Aye,’ said the giant, ‘that’s what I thought!’
Birch almost knocked her father over, trying to get a look, and even the giant’s wife peered at it closely.
‘I’ve got to find Mia,’ declared Rory. ‘She’s caught up in something dangerous. This proves it.’
‘You’re right, boy. I’ll call a meeting at Giants’ Cave,’ said Bran Bigg seriously. ‘Someone may be able to help you in your quest. But now you look tired, tonight you must get some rest.’
R
ory slept fitfully, curled up on a cushion in the corner. His mind was in turmoil, giants and dragons and witches all haunting his dreams, terrifying him. How had he fallen into this strange world? What had Mia got him involved in? There was no sense or logic to any of this. It was as if everything he had refused to believe in had suddenly come to life, challenging him.
He had managed to sneak a look at a few more pages of the book, which had given him some idea of the giants’ history. They seemed a gentle people who had farmed and worked hard for centuries, creating a fertile land for themselves. Then things changed, and war came. The giants were used as weapons, striding into battle in heavy armoury, or used as carriers to bring other soldiers to the front. Many seem to have died that way judging by the illustrations in the Chronicles. The pictures changed as giants became the slaves of men, used to build castles and forts and temples and monuments. Families
were destroyed. Rory was saddened by what he read and saw. Only a few giants survived, crossing deep swamps and hiding in the grey mountains and hillsides, blending with the caves and rocks which became their refuge and their home. Here they took to tilling the soil once again. It was a sad but honourable history.
When he woke, the book was gone, deposited back on the high shelf where it would be impossible for him to reach it without a ladder.
The giants were very kind to him and took care of him well. Bran proudly showed him their farmlands, where giants laboured in the rolling fields and hillsides, tending their crops. Rory was amazed to see tomatoes the size of footballs, runner beans like green moving chains that clambered up huge canes towering above him, and apples like heavy, green cannon balls.
Birch followed him around, prattling on and on, reminding him of his sister. She insisted on showing him off to a group of shy friends, as if he was a new toy. Her friends’ shyness soon gave way to curiosity and they quizzed him about his country.
When they left, he asked Birch if she had a map of the region.
She obliged him by unrolling a huge map across the kitchen table.
Rory walked across the map, from one corner to another, trying to make any sense of it. Birch’s chubby finger pointed out Giants’ Cave where she lived. Rory tried to memorise the geography of the region spread out before him.
‘What is this?’ he asked, pointing to the word Terra written
in the top right-hand corner of the map.
‘That is where we are! Our farms and lands are part of the territory they call Terra,’ she replied.
‘What lies beyond?’
She shrugged. ‘Swamps and forests, the deep woods. I have only heard tell of them – the other territories.’
She blushed deeply, and he could tell that she thought she had said too much.
Rory sighed. So this was only a small part of it. There was still much he needed to learn.
The sky outside the cave was dark and the night was cold. Frost covered the ground and Rory’s breath almost froze as he walked along beside Birch. Huge figures formed a semicircle on the dark hillside, where the giants were gathered around a glowing fire. One giant face after another turning to stare at him as he approached.
‘’Tis the boy!’ Bran drew Rory into the circle of enormous men, women and children. ‘This is Roree Murfee, a human. The Dragon Woman has taken his sister, spirited her away!’
A rumble of gossip rippled round the fire at the mention of the Dragon Woman.
‘But the Dragon Woman died hundreds of years ago with all the dragons – every Giant knows that!’ insisted a man with a mane of roaring red hair and a long beard. ‘The boy must be mistaken.’
‘Longbeard Huge, you do well to express your doubts, but
the boy recognised the Dragon Woman in our Chronicles only a few days ago.’
‘The dragons are dead, sky protect them,’ murmured a huge woman who towered over Bran Bigg. ‘Good ones and bad ones, all gone.’
‘His sister saw dragons, only babies mind you,’ interrupted Birch’s mother. ‘She told the boy about them but he didn’t believe her, more’s the pity! The Shadow Hound brought him this far, so I reckon the least we can do is help.’
A mutter of disbelief and objections filled the air.
‘I saw a dragon!’
Everyone turned to see who had spoken.
‘I saw a dragon, a black one, flying skywards out beyond the Boundary two days ago,’ declared a plump-faced boy about Rory’s own age.
‘Why did you not tell someone, young Nilo?’
The boy giant looked nervously across at his father, Longbeard. ‘Because I knew no one would believe me and I’d get into trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘Aye, trouble, for not being at school and for going outside the Boundary.’
‘What was this dragon like?’ asked an elderly giant who was sitting near the fire and toasting some bread for himself.
‘At first, I thought it was just some kind of strange bird blown off-course. But it cast a black shadow across the ground, and when I saw that, I knew what it was. It was definitely a dragon! I was scared. I ran and hid in an old ruin till it flew
past.’
‘So, there be dragons again!’ said an ancient giant who balanced on crutches made of two tree trunks. His head was covered in wispy white hair and his front teeth were missing. ‘And the sorceress, Bella, has returned and will regain her powers, and she will try to rule the four territories of Aland! She will use the dragons to quell resistance. Her magic will grow more powerful, day by day. We giants may be in grave danger.’
‘Bran says it was the Shadow Hound who brought the stranger here,’ said the ancient giant, looking around the campfire. ‘We should remember that it was the noble Shadow Hound who also brought the first giant across the filthy swamps, when he lifted Hugo Long from the battlefield where he had been left to die and brought him to the safety of Giants’ Cave many years ago. He has now brought the boy to us, perhaps to warn us, or simply knowing that we would help him!’
‘Aye! We should help the boy!’ agreed a chorus of voices. ‘We owe it to the Shadow Hound.’
The giants talked long into the night, devising a plan to take Rory to where the dragon had been seen. Bran Bigg would go with him, and young Nilo would lead the way.
B
efore they set off the next day, the giant’s wife served them an enormous breakfast of porridge, crumpets, honey and cherry juice. She filled Rory’s backpack with food for the
journey
: a dried fish, some oatmeal biscuits, strips of charred beef, baby potatoes and a human-sized loaf of fresh bread that she had baked early that morning especially for him. There was also a flask of spring water and a sealed pitcher of juice. Birch cried all morning, begging him not to go.
‘Stay with us here, Rory, and I could be your sister!’ she pleaded.
Rory shook his head, thinking of Mia and how scared and alone she must be.
Birch squeezed him tight as he was leaving, and he almost felt dizzy!
‘What about a hug for me?’ Nilo teased Birch. Birch blushed
deeply, as usual.
Eventually, all the farewells were made and it was time to leave Giants’ Cave. Bran led the way down the hillside. Rory slipped and stumbled as the heavy rocks and stones moved beneath his feet. He was thankful for the giant boy beside him, who many a time lifted him up off the ground and stopped him from falling. He knew that he was slowing them up. But soon they reached the acres of green pasture land. They walked along, sometimes talking, sometimes not. They told him about the giant families – the Huges, the Biggs, the Longs, the Talls, the Stouts – and he in turn told them about his world, about his mother and father and Granny Rose, and the house they lived in, and all about Glenkilty. They shook with laughter when he tried to tell them about television and computers, and called him a liar when he informed them about aeroplanes and cars.
‘We don’t believe you, lad. Nobody or nothing could send two hundred people flying through the air, unless it were witchcraft or high magic!’
Rory decided it was pointless trying to impress them any more about modern times.
They walked for hours, eventually stopping because he had to rest. His legs and feet were aching and the terrain was getting worse.
‘Let me carry you, lad!’ offered Bran. ‘I used to carry Birch on my shoulders up to a few years ago, and, sure, you’re no load at all.’
Bran knelt on the ground and Rory clambered on to his
broad shoulders, gasping with fear when the giant stood up. He clasped Bran’s head as the ground swayed beneath him.
‘You hang on there, Rory lad!’
Bran and Nilo began to take larger strides now. A vast distance was covered in no time. They only began to slow down as the ground became heavy and muddy.
‘It’s the swamp!’ announced Nilo, both giants stopping to look across a vast lake of thick mud.
‘What’ll we do now?’ asked Rory, as there seemed to be no way to cross it.
‘We wade,’ said Bran firmly, stopping to take off his boots and strip off his trousers. Nilo followed suit.
Rory was terrified. He had read about such swamps in the Chronicles and he knew how dangerous they could be. He would suffocate in seconds if he fell into the mud.
Bran was silent as he entered the swamp, the mud squelching and gurgling between his toes. The ooze crept up his legs as he began to wade – to the knees, then to the thighs, then above his backside and up beyond his waist. It clung to his skin, trying to force him to stop walking. Nilo followed beside them, the ooze right up to his chest. Rory could see the fear in the other boy’s eyes, and prayed that they would all make it.
They were right in the centre of the swamp when Bran lurched. Rory shook wildly as the huge giant seemed to go down on one side, the ooze sticking to his chest and neck and spattering his face. Rory’s own shoes and trousers were now mud-covered too.
‘Hang on!’ warned Bran.
Nilo moved slowly towards them and with his free arm pulled Bran free. Together, they stumbled out of the hole Bran had stepped into.
Exhausted and filthy, they eventually made it to the other side, where they lay on the ground trying to get their breath back.
‘We should build a bridge over that filthy swamp!’ muttered Nilo. ‘I’m fed up having to go through it.’
Bran looked up at the boy. Why hadn’t the giants thought of that before? There were enough of them to build a bridge if they put their minds and strength to it.
‘You have a wise head for one so young, Nilo. We will raise it at the next gathering.’
The sun dried the mud on their skin and clothing, and finally, feeling more rested, they began to walk again.
‘What I need is a good hot bath!’ sighed Bran.
‘You won’t get that,’ said Nilo, ‘but I promise, soon we will be able to wash ourselves.’
They trudged on for another hour and then came to a sudden halt. Bran lowered his shoulders so that Rory could jump down.
A tumbling waterfall glittered and sparkled in front of them. They tested the water with their hands and it was ice cold.
‘It must come from deep within the mountain,’ said Bran. ‘It will invigorate us, but we should light a fire first so that we can warm and dry ourselves afterwards.’
The three of them quickly gathered sticks and branches,
piling them high, then Bran took a bronze tinderbox from his waistcoat and, with a few breaths, blew it into flame. They had a fire lit in no time. Then, stripping off their muddied clothes, their bodies caked in stinking ooze, Bran and Nilo ran under the freezing waterfall. The giants were shouting and enjoying themselves, as he would have enjoyed a hot shower at home, but he was glad to crouch at the fire and warm himself.
Bran and Nilo produced a handful of huge potatoes which they roasted in their jackets, sprinkling them with salt. The waterfall provided them with an iced drink. They sat till the night drew in, safe in the comfort of the fire.
‘Tomorrow we reach the end of the Boundary,’ said Nilo, taking a bite from his roasted potato, ‘and we may get to see the dragon I told you of.’
Exhausted and bone weary, Rory fell asleep, glad of the giants’ snoring on either side of him driving away the strange sounds that came from the darkness.