After gawking at King Aldar’s immense and spectacular castle, and catching their breath from the long climb up, Borg led them back down a switchback ramp into the pillowy mist of clouds. After some time, they found themselves in a huge cavern. As it was late in the day, Borg suggested they camp there. The journey over to Afdeon, he explained, would take most of the morrow.
As they laid out their bed rolls, Borg built a fire. Huffa gave Hyden a farewell lick and raced off with the other wolves. Talon sped off after them, and for the first time since they’d been in the mountains, Spike yawned and stretched then roamed about the companions.
“How is it possible to get to yon castle in only a day?” Oarly asked.
“There are tunnels and passes that lead to other tunnels that will get us there,” Borg shrugged. “That’s about as well as I can explain it.”
“Are they portals?” Phen asked excitedly. He had read about portals. His first instructor, Master Targon, had conjured one to save King Jarrek from Pael’s attack on Castlemont. Phen had heard the tale from the Red Wolf, as well as from Brady Culvert. Once, on a long shipboard journey, Brady had described the portal in detail.
Phen suddenly had to shake his head to get rid of the vision that came to him. He’d seen Brady partialy melted and killed by a vicious black dragon’s acidy spew. Luckily, Phen’s fascination with the idea of portals was enough to ease him past the sudden well of sadness.
“I think it may be portal magic, Phen,” Borg answered. “But that sort of conjuring is beyond me. I’m a mountain guardian and my ability is limited. Besides that, my visits here are few and short.”
Phen deflated after finding he wasn’t about to learn something.
“You’ll not be staying with us, then?” asked Hyden.
“No, my friend,” the giant answered. “An escort will come in the morning and take you from here. I have duties, you know.”
“Aye.” Hyden nodded his respectful understanding. “You have my thanks for aiding us.”
“I’m not leaving you just yet.” Borg grinned. “We’ve an evening to share before we part ways. There’s plenty of meat left, and the dwarf has liquor. I say we enjoy this warm, sheltered camp by getting fat and full of drink. It may be awhile before we meet again.”
“Aye,” Hyden agreed. “Well said, my friend.”
Hyden never passed up the chance to hear a story. Giants were the best storytellers, and he knew that after a few drinks Borg would spin a yarn. Hyden and Gerard had grown up hearing tales from a giantess named Berda. He was so hopeful that thoughts of Gerard, for once, didn’t bring him down.
Oarly reluctantly donated a small keg to the affair. The soldiers set up a spit and began roasting the remaining chunks of elk meat. Dostin took a flask from the dwarf and went around the camp filling cup after cup until Oarly snatched it back from him.
Corva spoke softly to Princess Telgra, but she made an irritated face and strode over to where Phen and Hyden were sitting. The elven guard hadn’t been offensive, he had merely been telling her things about herself. He was clearly trying to spark her memory, but Telgra just didn’t want to know yet. She found she was starting to dislike Corva’s insistence. His prodding and constant reminding of the self she didn’t remember made her want to scream.
Corva was growing concerned. Telgra didn’t remember anything about her childhood, nor her mother, nor her duty to her people. Corva had intentionally stayed away from the subject of her father. His death was still sharp in his own mind and he didn’t want to add to Telgra’s distress. The fact that she had grown fond of the marbleized human boy was an outrage, but he forced himself to hide his envy. He actually liked Phen, but when he saw them sitting close, or sometimes walking hand in hand, Corva found himself simmering with something he had to work to subdue. At those times, not even Dostin’s innocent pestering could break his sullen mood. He let the monk fill his cup, though, in hopes that a few sips of the potent liquor might lift his spirits. Soon they were all feeling the effects of the dwarf’s drink, save for Phen, who wasn’t able to swallow, but clearly enjoyed the way the brandy loosened Telgra’s tension. She was practically falling all over him after only her second cup.
“Master Dwarf,” she slurred, “how do you drink so much of this fire brew? Two cups and I’ve lost my wits.”
“You lost your wits long before you started sipping,” Oarly joked. “That’s why you’re on this fargin journey.”
Everyone laughed, except for Corva and Dostin. The worrisome elven guardsman didn’t crack a smile until seconds later when Dostin spoke. “What’s a wit?” the monk asked.
“I want to make a toast,” Hyden said, with a pat on Dostin’s shoulder. He had only sipped from his first cup of brandy. Borg, though, had commandeered a small cooking pot and had emptied it twice.
After whispering into Dostin’s ruined ear what “wits” were, Hyden raised his glass. “To our giant friend, who saved us from freezing our arses off.”
“Hear, hear,” Lieutenant Welch added, as did a few of the others.
Everyone mumbled a fond word or two to the humble giant. Then Hyden took Borg’s pot and filled it from one of the kegs piled in their gear.
“Since it might be a long while before we meet again,” Hyden said as he handed the giant back his makeshift cup, “can I trouble you for a tale?”
“Yes, another story,” Princess Telgra slurred with a girlish giggle.
“Tell us a tale,” Jicks and the archers echoed.
Not even Lieutenant Welch’s sharp look at them for speaking out of place could quell their excitement.
“Pleeease,” Telgra begged.
“All right,” Borg agreed. “Let me think a moment.” He took a long swill from his pot and then began his telling.
“This one is for Princess Telgra, my friends,” he said almost apologetically. “There will be no blood and gore in it.” The young soldiers groaned their disappointment, but Borg ignored them and continued. “But since it involves a princess and a mountain troll, and you have a princess among you, I’ll tell this tale. After all, the chances of you completing your journey through these mountains without meeting a hungry flesh-eating troll are thin at best.”
That was enough to draw the young men’s attention.
“There once was a fair princess named Karsen. She was as beautiful as a flower, and as tender as a babe. The farms around her father’s kingdom were constantly being bothered by a cattle-stealing troll that was as mangy and mean as the day is long. The king had his knights, and they had their proud horses, and nearly every day they rode out to fight with the beast. At night the horses all gossiped around the stalls of the royal stable, each bragging about one feat or another that they’d performed afield.” Borg resituated himself and took a sip of the dwarf’s liquor.
“Well, one day, the stableman’s cart-nag gave birth to a pony. It was the ugliest pony to ever be born. All black-and-white spotted like a milk cow, with a huge lump on its head between its ears. The knight’s horses all made fun of the ugly pony, calling it names and teasing it to tears every day.”
“Then one day the princess came to see the ugly pony she’d heard the knights talking about at her father’s table. When she came into the barn, the other horses were calling the poor teary-eyed colt names like “lumpy head”, and “milk horse”. The princess felt so bad for the creature that she asked her father if it could stay in the garden, away from the mean old destriers.
“Her father, unable to deny Karsen her heart’s desires, commanded that a single stable stall be built in the corner of the garden yard for the ugly animal.
“Every day, Princess Karsen came and visited the colt and they became fast friends. When it was big enough to ride, she rode it around the garden and inside the bailey. She treated the ugly steed as if it were the most magnificent stallion in the realm. Soon she began to see a change coming over her four-legged companion.
“While all this was going on, the savage troll was growing bigger and bolder. The knights could no longer frighten it away when it came to eat from the farmers’ flocks and herds. One day the troll scared the king’s men back into the castle and stood at the gate, pounding away.
“‘What do you want?’ the king asked from the top of a tower.
“‘I want to eat the princess,’ the troll replied. ‘If you let me eat her, I will leave your lands alone forever more.’
“The king told his knights to make the troll go away, but even the bravest of the destriers were afraid of the huge, foul beast. As soon as they were close to the creature, they would buck and throw their riders and flee. Throughout the day and into the night, the troll kept pounding away.
“At the table that night, the princess told her father that she and her pony had heard what the troll said. To the king’s surprise, she also told him that her ugly horse wasn’t afraid, that it would proudly carry one of his knights out to face the troll. The knights at the table, despite their fear of what was waiting for them, couldn’t help but laugh.
“‘The horse is half cow,’ one said.
“‘It’s got a melon growing on its head,’ said another.
“‘Maybe the troll will die laughing at it,’ the first knight added.”
Borg stopped to take a long drink from his pot. Everyone in the cavern was captivated, not only by his story, but by the smooth, deep voice with which he told it. The sudden lack of speech made them antsy.
“Come on,” urged Jicks. “What happened?”
“Be patient, lad,” Oarly said. “Let him wet his voice.”
Princess Telgra was resting her head on Phen’s shoulder. Her eyes were glazed and dreamy as the images the giant’s words evoked slowly faded from her mind. Just when she was about to ask Borg to continue, he did.
“What the king, the knights, and the skittish destriers didn’t know was how much the ugly pony had changed.” Borg wiped at his mustache and went on. “While living in the garden stall, only the princess had paid the pony any attention. His black and white splotchy color had spread and blended until his coat was a shimmering silvery gray. His tail and mane, and the tuffs above his hooves had all turned snowy white. The most profound change, though, was that the lump on his head had extended into a long, curling spike of pearlescent ivory that was as sharp as a spear tip.”
“A unicorn.” Princess Telgra grinned.
“Just so,” Borg continued. “The very next day, the old troll started banging on the gates again, and the king ordered his knights to drive it away. Once again, the destriers balked, unable to overcome their instinctual fear of the huge troll. Again, the knights spurred the horses in, but they refused.
“‘Are you big, strong horses afraid?’ a voice asked from the bailey.
The princess sat atop her unicorn, who was chastising the terrified destriers that had once made fun of it.
“‘Who are you?’ one of the knights asked. ‘Where did you come from?’
“‘I’m the milk horse, the lump-headed pony,’ he said, puffing out his chest proudly. ‘I may be ugly, but I'm not afraid like these nags are. I’ll go face the troll. I’m not afraid to protect my princess.’
“The other horses were clearly stunned.
“‘Is this true?’ Sir Jaxon, the king’s bravest knight, asked the unicorn.
“‘It is,’ the princess answered proudly. ‘He is not afraid.’
“‘Then together we must make the troll go away,’ Sir Jaxon told the unicorn. ‘I must say,’ he added, ‘that only to save my princess would I dare ride a steed as beautiful as you into battle.’
“The unicorn shook its snowy mane and bashfully bowed its head. The princess slid off his back and Sir Jaxon climbed on. The other horses grew jealous and angry.
“‘It’s still got a horn,’ one horse said.
“‘He will run from the troll as soon as he sees him,’ said another.
“‘Your concerns are misplaced,’ the cart-nag observed. ‘That’s no horse. You’ll never be that elegant and beautiful. That’s a unicorn.’
“Just then, the castle gates cranked open enough for them to ride out without letting in the troll. The filthy creature was ready and waiting. The princess couldn’t help but run up the stairs to the top of the wall so she could watch. She was terrified for her brave unicorn’s life.
“Sir Jaxon fought hard against the troll, but was unhorsed and smashed. He was so badly injured that he couldn’t get to his feet. The unicorn danced and sprang, and ran out of the troll’s range, more than a little afraid and unsure of what to do next.
“From inside the castle, through the crack in the gate, one of the destriers laughed. ‘I told you he would run.’
“‘He’s not better than us,’ another of the horses added.
“‘He’s not running away,’ someone said, causing them all to look again.
“Seeing Sir Jaxon lying helpless, the troll bent down to grab up his meal.
“‘Look,’ the princess squealed to her father, who was standing protectively beside her.
“The unicorn charged with all he had. He ran as fast as any stallion had ever run, straight at the troll. He leapt with his head lowered and buried his horn deep in the beast’s arse.”
This caused Jicks and Phen to laugh.
“The troll screamed out in terrible pain, and when he jumped up, the horn broke from the unicorn’s head. As fast as he could flee, the troll limped away. And it never returned to bother the kingdom folk again.”
Borg finished off his pot, but waved off Oarly’s offered flask.
Princess Telgra seemed fast asleep, but Hyden, Phen, the monk, and the younger men were waiting for more. Even Lieutenant Welch and Corva, who were both stretched out on their bedrolls with their eyes closed, were still listening.
“Is that it?” Hyden asked.
Borg chuckled. “Do you really want to know?” he asked rhetorically. “All right. The destriers were all put to plow. Sir Jaxon recovered from his wounds and was rewarded with a lordship and a thousand acres for his bravery. He also took the princess as his wife and, in return for saving his life from the troll, he gave the unicorn the run of his land.”
For a long while all was silent. The tale was done.
“That was a wonderful story, Borg,” Telgra said. She peeled herself off of Phen and gave the giant a big, loving hug. To everyone’s surprise, the Southern Guardian blushed brightly when she kissed his cheek.
Not long after, the cavern began to reverberate with a horrible animalistic sound.
Luckily they’d all been drinking and had grown use to Oarly’s snores.