Against the Giants Read Online Free PDF Page A

all his father
would say.
    “Straight past the shrine,” he repeated to himself, “then
turn south beyond the armorer’s and south again at the wall. Follow the wall
around to the gate.”
    All at once, he could see the shrine—a small stone building
with a massive lightning bolt and fist of shining black stone. Lhors felt
suddenly very peasantlike and out of place. He hurried on, passing through a
sprawl of stone buildings, small huts, and a few open-sided tents. This must be
the armory, he decided, though other goods were sold as well—furs, wrought
metal jewelry, and a variety of armor. The noise was incredible here. A massive
brute of a smith on his left was beating red-hot metal, and just beyond him, two
younger men were battering horseshoes and dipping the finished products into a
vat of water.
    He caught the familiar reek of a tanners—rotting hides
soaking in salt brine—and stopped short. Bregya. His throat tightened.
He’d helped her this past year with the scraping after she’d become too ill and
weak to do the heavy work. Upper Havens master tanner had become something of a
substitute mother to Lhors, instructing him in proper manners, helping him to
understand girls, and knowing when he needed to talk about things that he
couldn’t tell his father. Lhors swallowed hard and moved on quickly.
    Do not think about Bregya! To come this far, only to weep in
the city streets or worse, before the guards! His father’s shade would be
horrified, and he himself would die of shame.
    Lhors had rehearsed the tale often on the journey here. A boy
of his class would be given little time for an audience with a lord, however
important his message. The more he ran the words through his mind, the less the
words themselves would hurt. You must tell what happened as quickly and
clearly as you can, and if the lord permits, you must ask his help.
    He ran through the words once again as he turned the corner.
“They must be stopped. They destroyed our village and now are more confident. If
they burn every village in the hills, then they will believe nothing can stop
them. Then they will turn on the plain, perhaps even the king’s city. Better to
end their terror with Upper Haven.” He stumbled over a badly angled cobble and
glanced around furtively. No one was watching him, fortunately. “Upper Haven was
small, but honest,” he continued to himself. “We paid the king’s tax every year,
and we provided goods for the baron’s hunting lodge. Perhaps the coin is small
compared to that of a town like New Market, but join our tax to that of the
other villages…” And there I pause, Lhors told himself. Let Lord Mebree see
the answer himself, as my father would say.
    He bore south at the wall, fingers trailing over its greened
stones. The way was narrower here and the wall very tall and sturdy looking. On
his right was a long row of joined buildings that might be houses, but they had
few windows or doors, and there was no sign of people anywhere.
    As the wall curved away to the left, he came upon a small
baker’s shop where the smell of fragrant bread filled the air. His stomach
rumbled, and he fingered the twist of fabric that held a silver and three copper
pieces in his right pocket. He’d left the hill garrison with three silver pieces
the captain had pressed upon him—more money than he’d had for himself in all his
life. It appalled him how quickly it had gone, frugal as he’d been and as little
as he’d eaten. And there was still the return journey. But it would be foolish
to come so far and faint from hunger at the king’s feet. He eyed the display,
finally choosing a plain roll for a single copper.
    The baker’s wife eyed him appraisingly as she took the coin,
then split the roll and spread a generous dollop of runny cheese on it for him.
“You’re too thin, lad,” she told him severely and waved him away when he tried
to pay for the extra. “Most young ’uns as lean as you are