Beads of sweat trailed down the collar of her doublet as Morwyn turned to face the giants. Even she was surprised by the audacity of her plan. It made her realize just how much her priorities had shifted since she'd joined the caravan. If she were still a sell-sword escorting a random merchant to their destination she'd have advised they turn back and try their luck again another day. Now, though, she had a drive to not only protect her comrades but also to keep them moving forward. There was also the insistent tug within her center as the frost begged to be unleashed, but she held it in check. For the moment, anyway.
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as the giants all watched her with curiosity, disdain, or outright animosity. Trux, however, was simply flabbergasted. The dwarf shook her head as a baffled smile overtook her shock.
“You're barkin' mad, you know that?” she said, shaking her head in wonder.
“Yes, but this is the most direct way I can think to end this quickly. The sooner this is over with, the sooner we can get back on the road. And besides, I won't be doing it alone,” Morwyn replied. She looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with Rennock before tapping her temple with one finger. The speed of the wizard's response reassured her that he was more than ready to jump to their aid.
*This is Rennock. How may I be of assistance?*
Morwyn smiled at the old man's chipper tone as it echoed within her mind.
Can you detect the presence of magic on any of the giants?
Rennock tugged thoughtfully at his long beard for a moment.
*Not from this distance, no. Shall I approach?*
Not yet... I'm not sure how the giants might respond. They were very offended by the idea of inspecting everyone's belongings. I'd like to do this subtly...
Rennock tilted his head to one side and he furrowed his brow.
*I can help you to sense magic yourself. With your permission, of course.*
Morwyn gave him a brief nod. The old wizard fiddled with one of his several rings, removed it from his finger, then slipped it into a pocket on the front of his robes.
*Inside your pocket is a ring. Put it on. When you are ready, rub a finger around the stone thrice and the spell will activate.*
Thank you. Wish me luck.
Morwyn put both of her hands in her pockets and probed around until she felt the warm metal band in her left pocket. She quickly slipped the ring onto her thumb as it was too large for her other fingers. Pulling her hands out of her pockets, she rubbed her chin to exaggerate a look of deep contemplation as best she could. Hoping they hadn't noticed the ring and that her pause hadn't been overly long, she spoke quietly to Trux.
“Act like I just told you a really, really good idea.”
“I really hope you know what you're doing!” Trux whispered through gritted teeth, nodding several times with a strained grin as she gestured toward the giants. “It seems their patience runs thin.”
Morwyn forced herself to walk forward and stand directly between Woda and Amrak, eyeing the giants to either side more closely as she did so. They were tense and irritable as they shot angry glares across the road. Both sides were eager for a fight but hesitant to be the first to make a move while their leaders were in their parlay.
“Woda, the spirit stone is more important than your rivalry with Amrak, correct?”
“Woda, the ghost stone is greater than fight of you with Amrak, yes?”
The giantess nodded firmly and clenched her fists atop the club on her lap.
“Amrak, do you agree?”
“Amrak, believe you the same?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded in agreement as he glowered.
Morwyn took several breaths to steady her nerves. Her plan would only work if she showed no fear or they would see right through her ruse and would likely kill her for the deception. She traced the gem on Rennock's ring three times with her left index finger as she gripped the hilt of her sword with her other hand. Trux shot her a look of rising apprehension.
“Then I will use the magic of my own ancestors to find the one that has taken it,” Morwyn said decisively.
A jolt of energy released from the ring and spread warmth through her body as the spell within the ring came to life. Her eyes blurred for a moment as a disconcerting blue tint blossomed across her vision. She quickly closed her eyes as she waited for Trux to translate, though her pulse hammered in her ears and she was too distracted to pay attention to the words. When she heard the rumbling whispers of the giants to either side of her, Morwyn slowly drew her sword from its scabbard and called forth the magic in her core as she opened her eyes.
She'd been prepared for another outburst of confusion and outrage from the giants at the sight of her frigid blue blade. What she hadn't expected was mystified silence.
Her weapon blazed in her vision with an aura of swirling blue and white power that wound its way up her arm and into her chest. She couldn't look away for several seconds as she marveled at the arcane aura that obscured air for several inches to either side of her weapon. Abruptly remembering her purpose, Morwyn slowly lowered the point of her sword toward ground.
“If the thief is among us, my sword will find them.”
The silence that followed stretched uncomfortably long. When Morwyn glanced over her shoulder to Trux, she was taken aback to see the dwarf's face was drained of blood and there was fear in her eyes, the same fear she'd seen many times before her family had been banished from Hearthvarn.
Fear of the unknown.
Morwyn swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and inclined her head to Trux. The dwarf blinked rapidly several times and turned her eyes from Morwyn as she took an unconscious half step backward.
“If... if the one who did steal here remains with us... her sword shall them find...”
Morwyn turned her attention back to the giants. Woda and Amrak restrained their expressions better than their peers though she thought she could still detect a note of uncertainty on their faces. The other giants were far less composed. Most of them looked as if they'd seen a ghost or some other ill omen. She could see no aura of magic amongst them save for a bright and steady green aura around Woda... and something else entirely on another.
Hanor, the bald giant with the blonde beard that had spoken out of turn, bore a wicked scowl as he looked away from her. She noted two sources of magic coming from the large man. The first was a hazy red aura that pulsed angrily around his head, though she didn't know what that could mean. The second was more easily recognizable given the circumstances. It was an irregular oval object just over a foot across at its widest point that was as black as Argoth's sword and pulsing with swirling shadows. It sat within a smaller pouch tucked between the others on the side of his wide belt. Without Rennock's spell and the strength of the stone's magic, she'd never have noticed it.
Morwyn hefted her sword and held it up in front of her face as close as she could stand. The radiating waves of cold stung her skin as if she stood atop a mountain in the depths of Skeldrûn's coldest winter.
“Moonmother, guide me,” she whispered, her hands clenching the hilt so hard that they ached.
The onlookers waited with bated breath as she leveled the sword in front of her and slowly swung to point it to the right. She deliberately passed over Amruk without slowing, though when she pointed at the others behind him she lingered as if her magic sensed something among them. Several of them balked and looked away or gripped their weapons nervously. They collectively sighed with relief as she turned her blade away from them.
When she turned to Woda her blade stilled but only long enough to give a respectful nod. The giantess hesitantly returned the nod and tilted her head slightly, squinting as if trying to parse out what sort of unfamiliar magic she was witnessing.
Morwyn fought to keep her arms from shaking as she aimed her blade to the four giants behind Woda. Three of them reacted much the same as Amrak's hunters had, but Hanor gripped his spear casually and continued to avoid her gaze. She ever so slowly returned her sword to point straight down the road between the giants.
Morwyn nodded to herself once, took a deep breath, and jerked her icy blade to the left to point directly to Hanor. When the others near him stepped aside in shock and her sword didn't move, there was no mistaking who she intended to accuse.
“Hanor,” she shouted with as much authority as she could muster. “Return the stone or face the wrath of the ancestors, both yours and mine.”
The prairie was silent as the grave for several pounding heartbeats before Trux broke from where she'd frozen in place and took several steps forward.
“I am not translatin' that, you daft woman! You can't fight a fuckin' giant, what are you thinkin'? There's got to be another way-”
“Do it!” Morwyn hissed angrily, her eyes still locked on Hanor. “They already know what I intend. Do it now before I lose my fucking nerve.”
The dwarf looked over her shoulder to Rennock and Eronir. The elf looked like a coiled spring ready to burst into action while the wizard was remarkably still and composed. Trux's jaw flexed as she clenched her teeth but she took several deep breaths and cursed Morwyn mightily in dwarvish under her breath. She threw up her hands and yelled her translation for all to hear.
“Hanor, you will the stone return or the wrath of ancient family you will face, yours and hers!”
The crowd of giants erupted with enraged shouts and appalling oaths. Woda and Amrak leapt to their feet, weapons in hand, their faces red with fury as they hurled abuse at Hanor. Even as others brandished their weapons and rushed to surround him, the accused didn't move a muscle. He stood as still as stone with his eyes locked on Morwyn with a look so venomous she thought she might crumble to dust beneath it. Hanor shoved aside one of the spears his former comrades had leveled at him and pointed to Morwyn with a gnarled, grimy finger the size of her forearm.
“I invoke the right to trial by combat!” he bellowed above the din, his eyes wild and unblinking as a toothy grin slowly spread across his face.
The other giants swore profusely at his declaration, particularly Amrak.
“Deceiving bastard!” the ginger giant roared as he paced back and forth. The ground beneath Morwyn's feet shook from the impacts and the other giants fell silent as he raged. “You would have had Woda and me fight to the death to cover your lies. You deserve no such right!”
Woda, her lip curled in a deadly snarl, shook her head angrily and laid a had on Amrak's shoulder. He tried to shake it off but she flexed her massive arm and held fast.
“We cannot abandon our traditions so easily,” she said through gritted teeth. “We must honor the right. If the spirits are with her, the small one will prevail and we will have justice. If they are with Hanor then the spirits have chosen him to succeed me as shaman for my failure. We cannot intervene.”
Veins stood out on Amrak's forehead as he glared at Hanor. He spat on the trampled grass beneath him and threw up a hand in disgust.
“Fine! Have your duel with the little-woman. But know that if the ancestors are with her, I will scatter your bones across the land as a warning to all giantkind!”
The other giants jeered and taunted Hanor as they stepped back to form a rough circle around the two of them, but his unflinching gaze never left hers. Morwyn felt her arms begin to shake and lowered her sword to rest on the ground before any of the giants took notice. Sweat dripped from her brow and off the tip of her nose, though she didn't dare take a hand from her hilt to wipe her face clean.
She was aback by how quickly the giants had completely turned on one of their own based simply on her accusation. She'd intended to help them find the truth and had done just that, but it appalled her that they had turned on Hanor like a pack of rabid dogs before she could reveal the proof of his theft. Only Woda's words kept them from tearing Hanor limb from limb.
A hand grabbed her by the elbow and Morwyn nearly flinched hard at the contact. Trux was still pale but her eyes were distinctly filled with fear for her, rather than of her, which lessened the sting of her earlier reaction. She gave Morwyn's arm a firm squeeze as all the giants besides Hanor sat down cross-legged and began a booming, rhythmic chant.
“I don't know what sort of madness runs in your blood,” the dwarf scoffed as she shook her head in disbelief. “I would gladly fall beside you in battle my friend, but I can't stand the thought of watching you die from the sidelines...”
“Then I'll have to be especially careful so you don't have to,” Morwyn replied with a smile that was more grimace than grin. She shook the nervous tension from her arms and assessed the power that remained within her center. She'd fought to channel as little as possible for her deception but even so it was nearly half empty already. Her head felt hazy from adrenaline as she struggled to unbuckle her quiver. Trux smacked her hand away and worked the buckles herself, removing the quiver and the bow strapped to it, followed by her baldric with her empty scabbard.
“Focus on your opponent,” the dwarf said sharply. “You've got to win this fight, damn the odds. The Vale needs folk like you. It'd be a gods-damned shame for you to die less than halfway there. This is only worth it if you live, 'cause if you don't, I'll be sure find you in the afterlife and kick your arse myself.”
Lightened by the removal of her equipment despite the weight of Trux's promise, Morwyn rolled her shoulders and strode forward to face Hanor from the opposite end of the circle of giants. She cast one last over her shoulder as Trux set her gear down beside Amrak and turned to witness the duel with her brows furrowed with worry. She rested one hand on the stock of her crossbow as Eronir and Rennock strode cautiously down the road to stand beside her. Amrak gave the newcomers a passing glance but didn't seem overly bothered by their presence as he resumed his chant. Rennock stiffened as his eyes passed over her opponent, but Morwyn didn't have time to dwell on what the wizard might have sensed.
Hanor gave Morwyn a dismissive snort when she took up her position and gave a bow with her sword swept out to one side. The crimson aura that surrounded his head flared and her heart dropped as she considered that he might some sort of spellcaster, but when no other magic manifested she took several deep breaths as she waited for him to make the first move. Given the giant's size and the reach of his spear, she had no choice but to avoid his attacks until she could find a way to close the distance, if that were even possible.
For a moment she was almost sickened by the damned folly of her own plan, but she didn't have time to mull it over as Hanor suddenly lunged forward with a thrust of his spear. She only just managed to leap to the side as the stone point that was nearly as long as her arm nearly ran her through. Hanor laughed as she stumbled through the tall grass to regain her footing.
“Unwise of the little-folk to meddle in the affairs of giants,” he chuckled as he paced the perimeter of the circle. “The ancestors will punish you for your hubris.”
He tossed his spear between his hands with casual familiarity and feinted another thrust. Morwyn leapt to the side once more only to realize her opponent had bluffed her thoroughly. She shook her head angrily and circled in the opposite direction, taking three or four steps for every one of his. The chill within her blade ached to meet his flesh, desperate to retaliate for the way he was toying with her.
Hanor swept his spear down at her in a wide arcing swing. Rather than jumping back to avoid it she ducked low and rushed forward. The jagged point passed several feet behind her and gouged a deep trench in the earth. Morwyn checked her forward momentum as the giant twirled his weapon and plunged it straight down toward her. She stepped to the side just as it plunged several feet into the ground beside her. She hoped in vain that the spear would remain stuck. Her foe merely laughed and yanked the spear free with ease before plunging it down toward her again.
Morwyn pivoted on her heel just in time to avoid being skewered and nearly fell as the impact shook the ground beneath her. She quickly found her footing and grunted as she slashed at the haft of the spear as hard as she could, aiming just above the thick rawhide lashing that held the point to the haft as she unleashed a burst of magic into the attack. When her blade made contact it exploded through the wood with a burst of frozen splinters that sparkled in the sunlight as they flew through the air.
Hanor was thrown slightly off balance and took a step back, though his face remained set in a sneer and the giant didn't seem startled at all. He gripped the haft of the spear like a quarterstaff and slammed it down in an overhand blow that Morwyn was able to avoid as she sprinted toward him. She knew that damaging the spear hadn't made his weapon any less deadly to her, but it made her feel good to do something, anything to change the balance of the fight she'd gotten herself into.
She was able to close some of the distance between them as Hanor recovered from his latest swing. Rather than attack with his spear haft again, the giant lashed out with his foot to give her a savage kick that would have sent her flying if it had landed. She danced out of the way and whipped the tip of her blade into the back of his ankle when the giant's foot came to rest on the ground. It wasn't even close to severing the limb, but it had the intended effect regardless. Blood gushed from the deep wound and the tendon split, bringing the giant staggering down hard on his right knee as he bellowed in pain.
Before she could back off to seek a more advantageous position, Hanor's fist crashed into her with a savage backhand blow that drove the air from her lungs and sent her sprawling. Her sword flew from her hand and she felt the flow of magic sever as she tumbled away from her weapon. She lay on the ground for a moment, dazed and unable to draw a breath, but scrambled to her feet as she saw that Hanor was lurching closer to her with the severed tip of his spear gripped in one hand like a crude knife. The red haze around his head blazed with such fury that it obscured most his face.
Separated from her sword and with her power dwindled to almost nothing by the earlier surge, she knew stood no chance at finishing the giant. She finally gasped in a much needed breath and drew her dagger out of reflex more than anything. Her mind raced over her options, though none of them seemed good.
She couldn't avoid Hanor long enough for him to weaken from blood loss since the circle of giants was too small to dodge him for any length of time. Though sharp, her dagger wouldn't be able to do meaningful damage to the giant's massive body. There was only one thing she could think to do that might allow for her survival and even then it was a slim chance. Gritting her teeth, Morwyn tightened her grip on her dagger and rushed straight for him.
When she came within arm's reach of the giant, Hanor slashed at her with his improvised knife. Without time to slow or change direction, Morwyn instead ducked and raised her left arm defensively. Though her chain-mail held against the jagged stone edge she felt the bones in her forearm snap at the force of the impact. She cried out as pain exploded through her arm, but she stumbled onward along the inside of Hanor's right arm as it stretched wide from the wild slash.
Morwyn knew that plunging her weapon between his ribs would be as fruitless as attacking his arm or shoulder, and despite being brought to his knees the giant's neck was still out of her reach, but his body was not her target. Her blade flashed a deep blue for but a second as she poured the last shreds of her remaining power into the weapon.
It met neither flesh nor bone, but the straps securing the pouches to Hanor's belt. Several of them fell to the earth with dull thuds. Without skipping a beat she dropped her dagger to snatch up the smallest of the bunch. Despite the thickness of the hide bag, the shadows that swirled within seemed to recoil from the contact with the rime of her magic that still coated her hand. She spun around and hurled the pouch toward Woda half a second before Hanor's left hand wrapped around her waist, pinning her broken arm to her side and driving the remaining breath from her body as he squeezed her mercilessly. She tried to scream but nothing came out except for a strangled gurgle.
Hanor growled unintelligibly through gritted teeth, his eyes gleaming through the inferno of angry red magic about his head. He tightened his grip around her middle, sending a shock of agony through Morwyn as her ribs cracked and the broken bones of her arm ground together. Her eyes bulged at the pain and pressure of the constriction. In that moment she didn't think of her family or her comrades in the caravan. She wished for nothing more than to drive her fist into his eye, to cause him more pain before she died.
She thrashed with her legs and flailed uselessly with her free fist against his massive forearm as he lifted her off the ground and held the jagged spear point to her neck. Her vision began to fade until all she saw were Hanor's eyes, which burned with a hatred she couldn't comprehend. Morwyn clamped her own eyes shut to dispel the horrible sight and braced herself for the end. She hoped that when her head was severed she would no longer feel the excruciating pain that wracked her body as her cracked ribs punctured through a lung.
Through the fog of agony Morwyn was dimly aware of a heavy impact and the sensation of hot fluid splashing over her like a waterfall. She opened her mouth to scream and choked on the coppery liquid as the hand holding her squeezed even tighter for a split second before relaxing entirely, dropping her broken body to the ground.
Mostly blinded by the blood that drenched her entire upper body, Morwyn could only make out a huge form with a vibrant green aura standing over Hanor's body with one hand on a stone club embedded in the mess of what had once been his head. The swirling black orb of the spirit stone was clenched in Woda's left fist.
Morwyn gagged and choked on the blood that filled her lungs, both her own as well as Hanor's. She was dimly aware of a presence that knelt over her and pressed a gentle finger to either side of her head with a tingle of arcane power, and welcomed the blessed darkness that brought a reprieve from the agony of her existence.