Against the Giants Read Online Free Page A

Gran and the
girls remained there while the villages remaining able-bodied men readied their
defenses and prepared to go back to Upper Haven to bury the dead. Lhors went on,
carrying a flask of water, a few ripe apples, a bit of bread, and a clay jug of
herbed oil to pour over it. Mostly, he ate and drank as he walked. Now and
again, he ran when the road was smooth enough, though nightfall slowed him to a
walk again.
    He reached a small garrison outpost in the hills just short
of daybreak the next day. Fortunately, his father had friends among the small
company of scouts who patrolled the surrounding hill country. Lhors had no
trouble passing on word of the destruction in the foothills. He had rather hoped
to be sent back to High Haven, but the captain, a tall, bearded man named Edro,
had other ideas.
    “You’re young and trained by your pa, but no true soldier,
lad. And you have cause to petition for a company to come and clean out these
giants, if they’re still about. I’ll take some of my men and head to Upper Haven
myself to make sure the folk are safe and all. You better travel on up to
Cryllor and let Mebree know what’s happened out here. So happens, your pa served
Mebree before he retired. You stand a better chance of getting the lord’s ear
when someone like me might not.” He also ordered a horse, an old gelding with a
rough gait and a hard mouth, for the youth. “I’ll tell you truth, lad. No one
here wants to ride old Bruiser. But once he’s far enough away from his stable,
he’ll cover the ground for you, faster’n you could do yourself.”
    There wasn’t much Lhors could do but agree to the added
journey and take the horse—a raw-looking old white brute with long, brownish
teeth and a pink nose that had been badly chewed on at some point. Bruiser was
no better than Edro had promised, but the bone-jarring trot ate up distance.
    Late on the third day out of High Haven, he rode up to
Cryllor’s double gate and gratefully handed the gelding’s reins over to the
guard.
    Cryllor was an outpost, a fort that still resembled one,
though these days it was the size of a small city. It was quite the biggest
place Lhors had ever seen. Despite the grief that swaddled his mind and emotions
and weighed on him like a stone, he couldn’t help but pay heed to sights that
ranged from the exotic to amazing.
    The city was ancient and many-walled. As it had grown from a
log-walled garrison to a minor fortress and finally to a city, it had expanded
well beyond the original fortifications. Still, the lords of Cryllor had
prudently maintained that innermost wall and made certain that new outer walls
were built as needed. Some of the newer barriers had been razed as the city
grew. The stone from the previous outer bastions was then used in the new ones
or broken down to be remade into buildings or to pave new streets.
    The oldest three sets of walls remained in place. The
innermost still enclosed Lord Mebree’s manor and served as a final defense
against any enemy strong enough to win through the main battlements and the city
itself. The other two rings were each four man-lengths across—but hollow. They
still served as barricade, barracks, stables, butteries, and weaponries for the
lords armsmen.
    Since King Kimbertos had come to power, there had been no
attacks anywhere around Cryllor. Lord Mebree’s city, once a strong fortress and
a prosperous market, was nearly as infamous for its many slums and the
well-entrenched thieves’ guild. Cutpurses and assassins were everywhere, as were
the poor. The markets gave over vast sections where the needy could find stale
bread, overripe fruit, soft tubers, and sacks of grain and flour beginning to
mildew. Sour-smelling food stands alternated with tattered blankets piled next
to used clothing, discarded boots, ill-tanned hides, or bits of fabric and
leather too small to serve those who could pay for better. One or two stalls
sold partially used