Chapter 13

"I can't believe she did that!" Steve exclaimed upon hearing what Valerie had done.

His voice did not say that he didn't believe the story, but rather that he had not expected the betrayal. Janna felt it wise to force it in anyway.

"You better do." She said. "I didn't trust her from the start. She doesn't have a bond to us as we all do because of class and stuff. She's just a pilot that wanted to save her own skin."

They were standing beside Lauraville, the sun drawing long shadows from the houses and huts. Evening had crept upon them like a thief whilst Janna had Laura had loved each other. Laura's belly rumbled loud enough for Janna to hear and she didn't not need Laura's frown to understand that she was starving. But this needed to be done first.

Christina still looked sceptical: "How would she have gotten the ship running again so suddenly? If she could have done it, she would have taken us out of here long ago."

"She must have stumbled on something when she was fixing the electricity." Janna offered. "'Don't know what. I have no idea how engines work. Do you?"

With the ball skilfully played back to her, Christina shook her head and raised a hand. That settled it.

"And you guys are sure she's gone?" Steve asked after a pause.

"Totally." Laura replied. "We searched the entire ship. We believe she flew away while I was sleeping."

"Damn." He let out. "Where do we sleep now?"

"I don't want to sleep in the village!" Christina fell in, looking around for the tiny giantess.

Nagash scared her, and rightfully so. Huge, gangly and for ever looking grim, Nagash did not make for a friendly sight. And she did even less so after she had returned from hunting, injured and bloody. Janna let her eyes travel over the deep, darkening forest. Something was in there, that was for sure, something mighty enough to injure the tiny giantess and scare her into fleeing.

"Bear." The giantess had replied darkly when Janna asked her.

The now second in command, Dari, was fixing up her legwound with bandages from Christina's first aid kit.

"You will sleep in the ship of course." Janna aswered her classmate's pleading look. "We will find something for you."

The thought of stuffing them into her socks for the night crossed her mind for a second, but that would be cruel.

"But where do we shower?" Steve asked, grizzling. "And what about our stuff?"

"Welcome to our lives." Janna shrugged. "Bathe in the lake and use what you can from the village."

"But we don't get the advantage of being a hundred meters tall." Christina objected "It's not fair."

"It never is." Laura chuckled "But, look. At least you guys can wear the tiny people's clothes and stuff. We are condemned to wear the same shit, every fucking day of the week."

On that account, Janna would have loved to switch with Christina. The dirt from her jeans and bra had even started to rub off on her freshly washed shirt and she hated it.

"I wouldn't mind a nice tunic or something." Steve allowed "Or maybe some armor."

"Haha, are you a nerd? Should we get you a sword too, so you can play knight?" Laura laughed at him heartily from above.

"I wouldn't mind a sword..." Steve mumbled in reply, making a half turn, kicking a stone with his foot.

Another rumble from Laura's belly made her stop laughing.

"Aww, damn. Poor girl." Steve scoffed at her, more poisonous than Janna might have expected from him. "Too bad Janna ate every crumb of food in the village, huh?"

Janna looked at her feet in shame. It wasn't entirely true. By now, the hunters and gatherers were returning and a fresh batch of cured meat had been produced from the smoke houses. All in all, there was maybe half a ton of food for Laura. Not nearly enough and Janna was growing hungry again as well.

They needed to find food elsewhere, but the sun had started to settle. If they had any chance at all, they needed to go now.

While Laura provided trees and ripped them to pieces for the villagers to light a beacon fire and keep it going during the night, Janna brought Steve and Christina into the ship.

"But I don't want to go to bed yet." Steve complained when Janna put them both next to her pillow with blankets from the village. "It's barely, like, half past six and there's not even video games."

Janna was thinking about where they had not gone yet, where there might be villages they could reach before darkness.

"That's the situation now. Get used to it." She told him briskly, absent-mindedly wrapping the two in blankets and tugging them in like miniature children.

"Ouch, you're hurting me!" Christina complained and Janna snapped out of her thoughts.

"Sorry." She apologised meekly, realizing she had been a little too ruff.

"Why don't you take us with you? We'd love to see how you get your food." The black girl asked and Steve concurred, nodding vigorously.

"Sorry again. We're faster without you guys." She lied "And we don't have much time."

The last part was true at least. But where to go? North? They had not tried the north, but it looked as though there were only mountains there. The thought of climbing on rocks in the darkness did not appeal to Janna at all. They should try west, she decided, they had not ventured very far in that direction before. But that was mainly because they had not found nearly as much civilization there as they had south and east. Maybe if they went just a little bit farther then before...

"It's safer if you take us with you." Christina insisted "What if you don't make it back? We'll starve here!"

"We will make it back." Janna assured her and filled a Petri dish with water for them, just in case.

"Keep next to my pillow at all cost." She instructed them further "It may be pitch dark when we get back and you won't want me to sit on you guys by accident. Alright?"

They both nodded. Thankfully, the thought of getting crushed kept them from further demanding to be taken along.

"But what if you turn in the night?" Steve asked anxiously.

"I don't."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Unlike Laura, Janna had always been a calm, unmoving sleeper. She took one of the battery-relying lanterns with her. Again, just in case.

"Light it by nightfall" Laura instructed a tiny figure by the pile of wood she had erected "We will be longer than that, but it will take you a while to keep it going."

"All set?" Janna asked when she arrived next to her.

"I hope." Laura grimaced.

"Don't worry about Dari, you can trust her." Janna assured her when she indentified the tiny girl as the one Laura had spoken to. "She did a great job today."

And with that, they were on their way.

"Looks like they bought it." Laura said as soon as they were well away from ship and village, walking through the forest, crushing trees under their shoes.

"Yeah." Janna concurred. "And you still didn't thank me for saving your ass."

"I thought I did." Laura winked with a seductive grin.

That she had indeed. Janna had to apply a hand full of drinking water to her face to stop her cheeks from flushing after making love. By now, though, she had all but sobered up and looked at the way ahead with discomfort. Having to sleep outside was a possibility they faced, but Laura insisted that she needed food.

It was already too dark to see where she was stepping beneath the carpet of leaves. Today had been warm and nice but it was obvious that the days grew shorter. When they would go south eventually, they would take their blankets with them, turning them into sleeping bags. They had not brought them now, however, and Janna was beginning to think that was a mistake. Laura had been smart enough to do as Janna did and don all her clothes at least, as little as that was.

The nights got terribly dark in these parts.

Whenever they walked in the dense forest far away from their homestead, the trees always filled with sudden life. Their massive footfalls crushed everything underneath them and any animal that was able to move scrambled to get out of the way as quickly as possible. Janna had no doubt, that some were too slow or too stupid to make it, ending up flattened in their footprints.

When they came upon a clearing, they could see a multitude of things, badgers, rabbits, a fox and a stag running ahead of them. Laura made a tiny leap to squash the fox under her sneakers and reached for the stag, snatching it up victoriously. When Janna's boot would have landed square on top of one of the badgers she slowed herself just long enough for the tiny, black animal to scurry away.

Laura put the living stag in between her molars, holding it's head aside by the antlers and bit down, crushing it to paste.

"Not as good as the smoked ones." Was her verdict after swallowing the pitifully tiny morsel and flicking the antlered head away into the night. "But a little bit better than horse."

The sky was still cloudless. When the sun settled completely there was nothing to reflect it's light on to the ground from over the horizon but at least the moon- and starlight would be unobstructed. The four cardinal points were named for four of the twelve gods from the pantheon Janna had learned and she tried to remember them, walking.

"Firun is north." She started. "For the god of ice and winter and stuff."

"Right." Laura acknowledged. "And Praios is south. He's, like, the big boss or something and god of the sun."

"Mhm." Janna made. "West is..."

She couldn't remember.

"East is Efferd, god of the seas." Laura fell in. "But I don't remember west either."

"What other gods are there." Janna asked, thinking.

"Rondra for war and fighting..."

"More like for honour and fair play and stuff like that."

"Whatever. She's the god for the fighters anyway. Peraine for the peasants, mothers and sissy shit. There's one for knowledge and healing but I can't..."

"Hesinde." Janna remembered.

She had liked that one best.

"That makes six." She said after counting them in her head. "'Can't think of any others."

"If I were one, I'd be Rondra." Laura quipped, skipping. "No one can fight me. Oh, you wanna duel, little guy? Fine!"

She made a squelching sound with her lips while crushing a tree into oblivion.

"That would hardly be fair and honourable." Janna snickered. "No. You'd be Boron, god of death and sleep."

"Urgh, that one sounds like he's a guy." Laura replied making a face. "Besides, you kill far more people than I do."

"Probably." Janna sighed in agreement.

It had been her idea to start eating people. It had been she, who went out to level entire villages by the score. And it was also she who regularly added inhabitants of Lauraville to her diet, where Laura contented herself with normal food.

"But you sleep longer and more often."

"Oh, oh, Ing...Ingerim!" Laura exclaimed happily." He's for people who build and make things. Mainly smithing, I think."

"Craftsmanship. Yeah, nice one. But there's still three, four, five left. Is the Nameless one of the twelve?"

"Nah, he ain't." Laura explained determinedly "He's the thirteenth. But I remember there's weird gods among the twelve. Like, you can't even make that shit up."

"Gods are always weird, somehow." Janna pondered "You're the anthropologist you should know that better than..."

"Hey, are those lights over there?"

Me, Janna had wanted to say before Laura interrupted her, but upon hearing her words she looked and saw. She couldn't remember for how long they had walked, but by now it was almost too dark to see.

"Torches." She whispered under her breath.

A group of tiny, flickering lights were visible in the distance. From how they were positioned, it might have been a tower of some sort. She couldn't see.

"We have found something!" Laura exclaimed relieved to finally be able to fill her belly. "Let's go. Where's torches, there is people. Let's get them before they get away!"

For some reason, Janna had a knot in her belly, but that might have been because she didn't feel particularly like killing.

Laura raced ahead and Janna spurred herself to keep up. There was no time to turn on the lantern. The tiny lights stood out in the dark but there was no way of telling how far away they were. As the two giant girls approached, the lights doubled, then tripled. Bigger ones were ignited too.

When they were perhaps twelve meters away, one of the larger fires moved all of a sudden with terrifying speed, coming flying towards them. Laura stopped in her tracks, slithering on soft ground and broken trees and Janna almost fell trying to avoid bumping into her.

It was too late to dodge.

The fireball, maybe the size of a marble struck Laura in the belly.

"What the...!" Laura exclaimed when she noticed that her shirt had caught fire.

She looked at it, flabbergasted for a moment, before she beat at the flames out with her hands.

Two more fireballs flew at them. One fell short, bursting in a tree in front of them, setting it alight. The other struck Janna in the knee and she could feel the soft ball popping and the sudden heat it carried. Her jeans did not catch fire though and she was glad for it.

Now she could hear screaming. No, not screaming, she thought, but trumpets and shouts too, amplified but hollow as though they were yelled into metal cylinders.

"Reload! We are under attack! Ready weapons!" It rang from a multitude of throats "Reload, quickly! Light the signal!"

The largest fire yet was lit then, revealing the top of the tower before them and a chunk of the surroundings. The trees around had been cut down so to better see approaching foes and the structure itself was square, each side twenty centimetres long and twice as tall.

Janna and Laura just stood. They had not expected any resistance, let alone such a well organized one. Another fireball flew but missed Janna's midsection by a foot.

Janna switched on her lantern and held it over her head.

Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the sudden light. She could see everything clearly now. Soldiers were forming up, long pikes in their hands, nearly twice their own size. Atop the tower and at it's foot, huge, wooden apparatuses stood being loaded by a small army of tiny men with balls that were then set alight.

With fear she realized, that four of the eight huge things were just standing by, ready to fire, as were the many smaller siege engines.

"Loose!" A tinny voice commanded and all hell came flying at them.

"Aaah!" Laura screamed after she was hit by all four of the large fireballs.

She beat at her burning T-shirt, but this time the flames would not die as easily. The artillerists aim was much better in the light of the lantern, but she realized that far too late.

Janna rushed in to help her when she felt stings upon her arm and when she looked, she saw wooden splinters sticking out of it fledging at the rear. She shrieked and slipped on something beneath her, her impact on the ground flattening a considerable area of forest. Many of the trees and branches stung painfully in her back before they broke and she let out a cry of pain.

"Who are these people?" Laura screamed, still beating at gleaming remainders in her ruined shirt.

Janna looked to see. To her astonishment she spied a man in robes atop the tower in the fluorescent light, looking straight at her. He was gesturing something with his arms in front of his chest and Janna could have sworn that his lips were moving. A horrible moment later, he held a ball of fire in his hands and he hurled it at her.

This one came slower than the ordinary ones and Janna scrambled sideways to avoid it hitting her head. Like a heat-seeking missile or an intelligent torpedo, it changed course at the last instant, exploding in her hair.

'Burning!' She thought frantically. 'I am burning!'

She could see the flames in front of her eyes and the heat radiating from them. She screamed, fell back, beat at them. She managed to put them out after a moment but the uncomfortable warmth and smell lingered in the air around her. The lantern had tumbled to the ground and died.

Then she felt Laura's hands on her stomach and she noticed that her shirt was burning as well were two conventional fireballs had hit her. As soon as those flames were put out, Janna scrambled backwards, digging her boots in to the ground to get traction. Laura half crawled half dragged her along, leaving the lantern behind.

At some point, they both stood up and ran as fast as their feet could carry them.

"Motherfuckers!" Laura cursed next to Janna when they halted. "What in the hell was that?!"

'An army.' Janna thought and felt for the splinters in her arm.

They had barbs on them and pulling them out was painful but she did so anyway. She found another one sticking in her cheek, several ones that had failed to penetrate her jeans and two that had pierced her shirt, sticking in her tits. She pulled them out one by one, biting her teeth. From the way Laura winced beside her, Janna knew that she was doing the same.

"Are you okay?" She asked over.

"Yeah. A little sore on the chest but not too bad. Those arrows hurt though, but I think I'm fine 'xcept for a few scratches. That could have gone real bad though. "

It had become so dark that Janna could only make out Laura's shape against the amazing sky of stars. The moon was merely the sliver of a sickle and provided little to no light at all. That was when she realized that they had underestimated their situation.

"We're so fucking stupid." She cursed under her breath.

"Huh?" Laura made, her voice broken slightly but enough to make Janna worry.

"The lantern, we didn't take the fucking lantern with us." She lamented. "Why were we so stupid to bring only one? And none of the night vision goggles too!"

She had wanted to save them for more important occasions and cursed herself for it.

"Fuck." Came the worried reply. "What do we do now? We shouldn't stay here, what if they come after us?"

"They won't come. Not fast anyway." Janna said painfully. "They need their machines to hurt us and those are heavy. Without them it would be Ludwig's keep all over again."

"But who were they?" Laura asked frightened in the darkness. "They were nothing like the guys at Ludwig's keep!"

The army at Ludwig's keep never stood a chance beneath Janna's boots. They had no giant war machines, no element of surprise and no magician that could hurl target-tracking balls of fire.

When Janna looked into the distance at where the torches had been, she found them dying out one by one until none remained at all.

"Damn, these little fuckers know what they are doing." Janna observed. "Should we throw trees at them to crush their stone throwers?"

"We have to find them first and I don't want to go near that place." Laura quivered. "Let's just go Janna, I'm scared."

'So they beat us.' Janna thought bitterly. 'A few giant bolts and burning hayballs and we run like chickens.'

She was tempted to try and attack the tower but was worried as well. For one, they would have to do without the light and two, there was no telling of what other evils the tiny men had in store.

"Did you see how many they were?" She asked after a moment.

"Nah, I was worried about my burning T-shirt." Laura replied. "I saw a square of guys with really long spears and maybe twice as many scattered around, half of which were working on those fucking wooden things."

Janna remembered about the same.

"They would make a fine meal." She argued feebly.

"Janna, I love you, but we can't attack them in the dark. What if they have burning oil or...or worse?"

"You're not the least bit curious?" Janna tried to convince her, her own courage fueling on the anger over having been beaten. "I kind of want to know what kind of people can put up that much resistance. Besides, they ruined our shirts."

She poked two fingers through the wholes in her own and knew that Laura's was in even worse condition. She wanted to make them pay for that but her curiosity over the seemingly further advanced people was even stronger. Maybe a people such as this had means of industrial food production that could rid them of their constant worrying about food.

"Janna." Laura argued again. "We have to get out of here. We have to find a place to sleep. We'll never make it back to the ship like this. Let's come back and kill them tommorrow."

"But we have to get the lantern."

That was Janna's strongest argument and she had saved it for last. They only had so many artificial light sources, losing one was a huge blow that would come to haunt them in the future, Janna had no doubt.

Laura remained unconvinced: "It's lost, Janna, leave it."

"Steve and Christina are on my bed with only a little water. We have to make it back."

"They won't starve if we return to the ship tomorrow."

"Are you not the least bit hungry any more?"

"I'd rather sleep hungry than burn alive, please..."

"You'd rather sleep hungry and outside. Basically right here." Cynicism was mixing into Janna's words.

"Yeah, I'm gonna just throw down here and nap. What do you think?" It came back venomously.

And thus their exchange went. By the end of it, they had gotten into a fully blown fight fuelled by fear, uncertainty and the general gravitas of their situation, as had most of their fights prior.

"Fuck you, I'm not leaving the thing!" Janna ended stubbornly, referring to the lantern.

"Well if you think I'm just gonna wait for you here like idiot you go fuck yourself!"

"Great, come with me then!"

"No, I'm not going near those freaks!"

They were spinning in circles.

"What are you so afraid of?!" Janna asked, spreading her arms in a wild gesture.

A sliver of taunting had mixed into the question and Janna had really not intended for it to come out that way. They were tired and hungry, stressed out and afraid.

"What am I afraid of?!" Laura spat back at her. "Burning alive! That's what I'm fucking afraid of! 'You wanna find out if those fucks can kill you don't let the gates of hell hit you on your way in!"

Janna's mouth responded all on it's own: "They're just little shits with fireballs and you're acting like a little girl."

"Little girl, huh?" Laura flared her nostrils. "Yeah, if wanting to avoid danger makes me a little girl, then so be it! Fuck you, I'm going back to the ship. You 'coming with me or what?!"

This wasn't so much about the lantern any more as it was over who was right and who got to call the shots. Somehow, Janna felt the need to be right.

"You're not gonna make it back in the dark." She urged her fruitlessly. "Look how fucking dark it is."

"Oh yeah? Let's see about that." Laura stood up, turning to go. "You think I'm totally helpless without you, don't you?!"

"Laura, you're being an idiot."

"Fuck off." Laura showed her the finger in reply.

After three steps Janna could hardly make her out any more.

"Laura, wait!" She called out and jumped up to run after her.

"Oh, don't bother." Laura walked faster. "You just stay here, I can make it back on my own. Don't you worry. Go get your fucking lantern if you need it."

"Right, then that's what I'm going to do!" Janna spat after her, stopping in her tracks. "Don't worry I'll pick you up when I find you crying on the ground on my way back!"

Then Laura had vanished completely, only her stomping, stumbling footsteps remaining audible for a time.

She turned around, shaking. She was afraid. Afraid of the tiny people and their fire, afraid of not being able to make it, afraid to lose Laura in the dark. But she had to get it back. It was a matter of pride more than anything else. These were just tiny, local men after all. She wouldn't let herself be beaten by them. And she would prove to Laura that she could do it. She only needed the lantern as a token for that, for all the value the batteries had their own.

Something told Janna that it was stupid to let Laura go like that, but it was all in a blur. Laura would see that she was getting lost soon and stay put. And Janna would come and rescue her as she did always.

Hesitantly and slowly she stalked towards were she believed the tower was. They had gone completely silent it seemed, but Janna knew they had to be still there. When she had gotten closer the shouting of commands started again and their torches and fires relit.

She had misjudged the position of the tower she noticed then and was glad that they were stupid enough to relight their torches. In the darkness, she might have walked by it and never noticed. Carefully, she edged closer.

-

"Lights out and silence." The mage whispered to the captain after the grotesque monstrocities had fled.

The smaller man hurried off to act on that advice and Furio was glad for it.

None of the men needed their officers' reminder to remain calm, however. The shock was too deep in their bones to break into cheering. They dimmed all lights and hoped for the best, which was for the giant creatures to stay away for good.

Furio's Ignisphereo fireball had been a large one, large enough to break any line and send a whole regiment of men fleeing from any common battlefield. He hoped that it had done a lot of damage. His hand throbbed horribly were the flames had burned it but he dare not waste any of his energy on healing himself. If the things came back, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have to cast another one of similar proportion, which would cost him all the power he had left.

Furio Montane liked to think of himself as a force to be reckoned with, as far as mages went. For his age he had come far, or rather high, within the white guild. He was no arch-mage, but there were but few who questioned that he would make that title some day. In his experience, the fact that he was no grey, old man suited him better to the army anyway. But this, no man could really be suited for.

He had studied the things they were up against of course, after being called upon to offer his services as a battle mage to the Horasian army sent to re-enforce the Nostrian border against ever worsening giant incursions. The giants he had seen had been huge, frightening monsters but had next to nothing in common with the mountain-sized absurdities that had come at them through the night. In the heat of battle he hadn't gotten a good enough glimpse to determine how huge they were exactly but there was not a sliver of doubt in his mind that these two were of a different breed than anything they had encountered as of yet.

He had heard the rumours of the one-hundred-meter-tall things from fleeing folk but had dismissed them, as they all had dismissed them, for the peasant exaggerations of stupid, superstitious Andergastians. Part of him still believed it was a trick, some mighty illusion, maybe of druidic origin. Druids and witches were known to be strong in this part of the world. Another part of him screamed that he was wrong, that they had all been wrong, that this was something else.

'Could the twelve really be so cruel as to suffer such beings to exist, or was this demons' work?' Was a question that crossed his mind ever so often.

They could hear the giant things yelling at each other, far off in the distance, in their incomprehensible tongue. It had the sound of fighting to it, but it might just as well have been how such monsters conversed with each other.

No one moved on top of the tower. Every torch had a man with flintstone, steel and tinder by it's side, ready to light it as soon as the command came. Then, they would light the ammunition and hope for the best. Hay balls, drenched in pitch and oil had shown themselves effective last time and might do so once again.

"We surprised them last time." A nearby crossbowman gave bitter voice to Furio's thoughts. "This time, it's them surprise us, no doubt."

"Silence!" A sergeant hissed at him before resuming to peer into the night like a blind man.

The captain of regiment came over immediately, looking for whom had dared to disobey the order and make a note in his little log for punishment in the morning. If this captain was good for anything, it was that.

The small, snobby high-born spoke with his unpleasant, arrogant tone while taking down the soldiers name as well as his sergeant's.

The Empire of Horas had abandoned military knighthood and replaced it with fully fledged officership. Anyone with enough coin could attend the well-renowned officer-colleges and they reliably brought forth well trained and tactically sound men and women as cadets that were then battle hardened and drilled for duty with more experienced officers. Aristocracy had not died with knighthood however and their power and influence remained unhinged. So, every now and then, the army was laden with someone like Emilio Rieu, third son of his excellence Don Rieu, Baron of the Meadows Lovely.

Emilio had probably spent his college time drinking the finest wines, frequenting expensive courtesans and rarely having to suffer a higher officer straightening his head. If Furio had not been of noble blood himself he highly doubted the smaller man would even speak to him, even though blood played little to no role amongst the magici.

"Mage, what in Horas' name was that?" The captain addressed him afterwards, sniffing, ignoring his own command of silence.

The initial shock had worn off a bit.

"Giant monsters in the dark, Captain." Furio replied softly. "I fear I know as little of them as you do."

The officer carried a conical brass funnel that could amplify his voice on the battlefield, most useful, but the mage hoped that he would not use it now. Their best chance was to remain hidden for the rest of the night and hope for the giant things to ignore them.

"How is it that you presume to join our forces unprepared?" Emilio scolded him, arrogantly. "Should I request for the generalissimo to send us a wiser man?"

Furio was used to this by now. It had been him that advised the captain on how to turn the giant threats away when the captain had turned into a headless chicken. It had also been him to advice for darkness and silence afterwards. But Emilio Rieu hated having to take advice. It hurt his pride.

"I dismissed the stories of the fleeing folk as peasant exaggerations." He humbly bowed his head. "As did you, did we all. It seems, we were wrong in that."

"You presume too much, mage." The captain almost made an insult of the title. "Tell me, what can we do to kill them?"

'Kill them?' Furio thought incredulously. 'Have you lost your mind?'

"Fire seemed to scare'em." A huge bulk of a catapult loader offered with a shrug. "It worked once, why not twice, eh?"

"I commanded silence, fool!" Emilio hissed at the man crouching by his torch. "Tell me your name."

He moved to scribble the man's name into his log for gauntlet running but had to move the book so close to his face that it looked as though he was eating it like a dog.

"We surprised them last time." Furio repeated the crossbowman's words. "Next time it will be them surprising us. If they come, that is. Let us pray to the gods that they don't."

His hand throbbed violently and he had to flex it a few times to bear the pain.

"That is your advice then?" Emilio looked up from his book. "Praying?"

Furio gnashed his teeth. What could a man do in the face of such creatures, other than praying?

"Trust in Praios that he may he may burn these monsters with his rays." He said, as calmly as he could. "Trust in Rondra that she may guide our hands in battle. Trust in Phex that he may lend us luck. Trust in Boron that he may take them into his kingdom and let them sleep, and bother us no more."

"Aye." The men in earshot whispered in agreement.

"Aye." The bulky loader chuckled. "And may Rhaja give us nice, young whores to fuck before the monster comes to step on us. Hehehe!"

"If I had need of a sermon I would have sent for the priests." Emilio scolded the mage before turning to the loader. "And you have just earned a second run for yourself!"

The huge man only shrugged. Furio hoped for him that the captain's coal-scribblings would turn out undecipherable in the morning. One gauntlet run was bad enough, even for a toughened old hulk such as that one.

"If it is tactical advice you want, it's darkness." Furio said after a pause. "Don't let them spot us until it is too late. Light the fires only when the beasts are well in range and burn them again. Have the fireapples made ready as well. We may have need of them."

Fireapples. Any man of Rondrian values just had to despise them. A claystone sphere with a wax-sealed cork and match cord, filled with one of the best kept alchemical secrets of the new age. Meant to be flung into enemy formations, the pomegranate-sized thing would burst and spray it's contents on anyone unfortunate enough to be there.

The substance inside burned fiercely once set alight and once it was hot it would self-reignite if the flames were put out. It clung to anything it hit like a lotion and was known to burn flesh all the way to the bone. When they had been used against the demon worshippers that occupied Maraskan, Black Tobrien and the Haunted Lands the servants of the dark had tried to copy them but failed. The substance was difficult and expensive to produce. Furio had no idea what went into it though he had a hunch that the black blood of the desert played some part in it somewhere.

In their malignity, the evil men had done the next best thing and filled stone-clay spheres of equal proportions with acid. But that was by far not the worst they done, only half of which was known to the white guild. Through their unholy experiments and rituals the demon worshippers had turned a once fertile and prosperous land into black, treacherous swamps the stink of which turned the air foul within thirty kilometres around.

Could this be their work as well? What could be here, so far from home, that they wanted? Had they allied with the giants and somehow corrupted them even further? Had Xardas and Albino made common cause? Were the two even alive today? Furio had only ever known their names from books and stories. Questions upon questions.

He felt the need to pray and think upon this. His hand throbbed, putting his mind to wandering.

"I had expected as much of you." Emilio sniffed at him. "You think it wise to use them here and now?"

If not against these two monsters, what would they use them against? Common giants died easily enough to artillery, the three they had killed earlier that day had been proof of that. Surely, the captain could not presume to use them against Andergastians. For all their petty backwardness and superstition, the Andergastians were still a godly folk for the most part.

"Surely, Rondra will bare us no ill-will if we use them against creatures such as these?" He argued, flexing his burned hand.

"Mhhh, that she will not." Emilio said determinedly after some consideration. "Where should we put them?"

'Everywhere.' Furio wanted to say but he told the officer to load them into the smaller stone throwers that otherwise shot stones or metal balls of similar size.

They had but four of the forsaken things and Emilio noted the name of every gunner who got one. If the conventional munitions failed they would be their last bastion of hope against the titans.

"You will realize the danger of this, of course." The captain told him after the empty, padded box had been carried off. "If the things do not attack us again, we run the risk of apples disappearing. They are worth a fortune to certain people. Any apple that does not return I shall hold you personally responsible for."

The apples were Emilio's responsibility but Furio's hand stopped him from coming up with a rebuke. Instead he gnashed his teeth and flexed his fingers.

That was when the report came in.

"Big thing, front left, moving in the darkness. Distance unknown."

Everyone held their breaths and Furio could clearly hear trees being crushed under otherworldly large feet.

"Make ready!" Emilio screamed into his speaking device, his voice ringing with panic.

'No!' Furio thought. 'You fool!'

A crossbowman pointed: "There!" And the mage's gaze followed his finger.

The gargantuan silhouette was outlined nicely against the stars if one knew were to look. Furio's heart dropped when he saw that it was coming right at them, no doubt having heard the oafish captain's amplified voice.

Panicking people screamed on top of each other in then: "Look out for the other one! Right clear! Lights! Lights! Light the torches! Light the beacon fire! Officer on deck!"

Emilio screamed right along them into his funnel while around them the world was doused in light again, far too early.

Just like that, their cover was blown.

With few, huge strides Major Phillipe Lefleur was upon them. Furio thanked the gods. With all the commotion, no one atop the tower had heard the re-enforcements arrive, not even the trumpets that foretold their coming if there had been any.

"Report." He demanded of the captain who swirled around, looking at him with sheer terror in his eyes.

Phillipe Lefleur was a tall, gangly man with noble features, pleasing to the eye. His long, oiled hair was bound to a pony tail under his shiny morion helmet that always looked freshly polished as did everything about him, riding boots to freshly shaven jawline. His helmet, cuirass and sabre gleamed in the torchlight like beacons of hope. He wore the same attire as Emilio but to an entirely different appearance. The biggest difference was Emilio's red sash where Phillipe wore a purple one, marking him for a major. He had two young lieutenants in tow. Good men, Furio judged from looking at them, that could relied upon at any moments notice.

The major was barely ever seen outside of command tents in main camp, a few kilometers behind the border. He was in charge of the reserves, waiting for large coordinated attacks yet to come.

"G...g...giantess, Sir." Emilio stammered at him, pale as milk.

"I brought the entire second royal guard of horse when we saw your beacon fire." The Major roared furiously. "Eighth and ninth crossbow, fourth through seventh pike, first and second light infantry are on their way here, marching as we speak. Do not tell me I woke them all for one measly giantess!"

"T...t...two!" Emilio brought out eventually.

Furio knew he had to intervene when he saw the incredulous look on Lefleur's face.

"No common giantesses, Lord Major." He fell in from the side. "But such as we have never seen before."

He pointed.

The huge behemoth had stopped it seemed after stalking a few gargantuan steps closer to them after they had lit the torches. She was still well out of range of the mangonels and catapults atop and at the foot of the tower. The light made it hard to look into the darkness and soon Furio's eyes were watering.

Phillipe stretched out a hand and within a heartbeat one of the lieutenants handed him a brass telescope. The instrument was cunningly crafted. A number of of brass tubes with lenses in them that magnified the far away, bringing it closer to the beholder's eye.

"Rondra, fuck me bloody." He cursed under his breath, watching.

Such words were unbefitting of the model Horasian officer and Furio knew what it meant for a man such as Phillipe to let slip such low troopers' swearing. It also showed however that the major had undergone his fair share of battle seasoning and the mage was eager to see what he would do.

"Well, may the twelve have mercy on us all. She must be a hundred meters tall." He remarked, regaining his composure after handing the telescope back to the lieutenant.

"No words of the second one we saw before." Furio jumped into Emilio's shoes. "Flinging fire drove them off the last time. We have made apples ready as well, they are distributed at all angles. All engines are ready, pikes are formed up. We await your command."

'And we could have just waited this one out in the darkness, if your captain had not been an utter imbecile about it.' He might have added.

"You best do your thing, Maestro." Phillipe replied with a respectful nod and correct title rarely heard from common men.

He snatched the brass funnel from Emilio's hands and raised it to his lips.

"Men, hear me!" He shouted into it whilst climbing the battlements with his long and slender legs. "To hold this border we came and hold this border we will! It's a big maid coming to our beds this evening. Let's give her a warm welcome!"

"Yeah!" It screamed from over a hundred throats all around.

"I have no fucking business in your beds, little man."

Silence.

Phillip's fervour seemed to have frozen in his veins when the giantess' thunderous answer came washing over the treetops. For a moment, Furio had fear he might faint and fall off the tower. Before, the monsters had only spoken in a queer, alien tongue that he had never heard before. Now, this one had replied in the common tongue, however, and fluently too, safe for a minor accent that Furio could not quite place.

His hand throbbed while he besieged Hesinde to grant him wisdom in his mind.

"I do not need no fucking warm welcome either." The giantess spoke into the silence. "Grant me my lantern and I'll be gone!"

Phillipe turned around towards Furio, puzzlement in his face.

"Err, she had a light source earlier. A lantern, if you please, Sir. It fell couple a hundred steps that way." A one-eyed crossbowman rasped next to the major before he could reply.

Lefleur beckoned for Furio to come closer and the mage rushed to abide by him.

"A lantern? What say you, mage?" He asked, peering back over to the horrifying enormity.

"It is true." Furio said. "But if you want my advice, it is not prudent to give it to her. If any of the stories we heard are true, this monstrosity is not to be trusted. She might well attack us once she gets it back."

"Take three riders and horses." Phillipe quietly addressed one of his lieutenants. "Take torches with you. Find me that lantern and mark it. I need to know where it is."

The young man saluted him wordlessly before making off.

"We won't give it to you!" The major shouted into the funnel. "Your lantern belongs to us now!"

"Then how about I crush you all under my feet, you measily little worms?!" Came the furious answer, echoing everywhere in the distance.

Furio's heart sank to his stomach upon hearing that and the fact that the giantess was audibly crushing trees for emphasis did not make it any better. If she could smash trees to splinters like that, he did not want to know what happened to a man if he found himself beneath her.

"Major!" Emilio rushed over, bringing himself back into play. "I think it unwise to anger her. Give her her lantern and she will bother us no more. She said as much!"

"We will eventually. But we have to stall her first." Phillipe replied patiently. "Wait until our men have found it."

Furio had no clue what the major's plan was. He hoped only that it was a good one.

"But why? Can't you see that we are making her furious?" Emilio argued. "I beg you, Lord Major, let her have her lantern."

But Phillipe was done paying him any mind for the moment.

"Come if you wish!" He taunted her. "Our artillery is waiting for you! We are itching for a fight and we have re-enforcements on our way even now!"

"I'm sure they are all very tasty!" The gargantuan woman shot back but did not move. "Why don't you stop hiding behind your catapults and come over here so I can have a good look at you?"

"Please, Lord Major." Emilio begged. "I do not want to be eaten! Let's just make her go away!"

"She's afraid." Phillipe smiled, more to Furio than the captain. "She's scared of our fire and can see as little in this darkness as we can. The Maestro has the right of it. Give her the lantern and she might turn it against us. Keep it from her and there is nothing she can do. I only wish we had found it soon."

No torches lit up in the distance as of yet.

"We have to stall her further, until the re-enforcements arrive at least."

"What is your name?" He called into the distance.

"Janna." It came back, echoing.

"I am Major Phillipe Lefleur of the Horasian army by the grace of his royal magnificence, Horasio the thrid!"

"Mhh, food with a long name always tastes so much better!"

Phillipe laughed at that. Furio had the strange feeling that the man was starting to enjoy this.

"Tell me, Phillipe, how would you rather die? All chewed up or swallowed alive?"

"Where had you rather we display your stuffed corpse?" He countered into the funnel. "Havena or Bethana? Havena is bigger, yes, but isn't Bethana that much more beautiful?"

"What is he doing?" Emilio frantically turned to Furio in despair. "He is going to make her kill us all!"

"Are those cities?" The giantess asked, still not moving but audibly furious. "Then I'll go and flatten both of them after I am done with you. Do you have family there? How about I sit on them after I tell them how well their beloved Phillipe tasted on my tongue? Oh, I can't wait to suck the meat off your bones, little man."

Furio could see Phillipe swallow at that.

"Torches!" Someone whispered and pointed.

The riders had found the lantern at last.

"Infantry re-enforcements arrived and formed up, Lord Major. Awaiting your command." Someone said behind them.

The timing could not have been better.

"I may have pushed her a little too far." Phillipe cautioned the mage, the captain and everyone else around them grudgingly. "Be on your heels. Everything has to go according to plan. We will attack as soon as she lights the lantern. The light will help our artillery strike true. Tell the crews to aim well above the signal lights. Relay the command as quietly as possible. Go!"

"It need not come to that!" The major addressed the titanic woman after a short pause. "No one needs die today! If you want your lantern that much then come and get it. It is yours! We have marked it with torches for you so that you may find it easier. We bare you no ill will, mighty one! We only ask that you spare us from your wrath!"

The giantess seemed to think about that for a moment.

"Fine!" She called out eventually. "I should kill you, but I won't."

She came forward, timidly, not entirely sure yet.

"What a pity, tiny Phillipe. I was so looking forward to eating you."

"Another time, perhaps?" The major offered through his brass funnel. "You will understand though, that we must light our ammunitions as a matter of precaution. Make no steps to threaten us lest we will fire!"

He raised his arm to signal for the hay balls to be lit as soon as she had stepped into range of the mangonels. Furio was astonished of the leadership and cunning the man displayed, the bravery with which he faced the titanic monster.

He still couldn't see any sign of the other one though, which made him cautious. Could Phex have granted them luck and she had come alone? Had Rondra evened the odds for them? Almost a thousand men against one one-hundred-meter-tall behemoth.

"I will not do anything stupid unless you do." The giantess assured them.

Furio could hear genuine unease in her voice. He prayed with every fibre of his body that the plan worked. Already he could see it floundering in front of his eyes. The giantess anticipated their ploy and leapt sideways as soon as she had turned on her light. The fireballs missed, all, and when he tried to cast one of his own, his hand exploded into flesh and splinters of bone.

With giant steps the monster was upon them, crushing their siege weapons first before turning her fury against man and horse alike. All screamed as they were crushed, and when she had stomped a sufficient number of them into submission, the giantess sat and feasted upon the cowering men inside the tower. And one of these men was him.

He swallowed hard and hoped that it would not come to that. His burned hand was throbbing.

"Alright, little people. Almost there." The giant young woman said.

She was almost upon the torches now.

"Come on, do it!" He could hear Phillipe whisper feverishly.

Her massive form snatched the lantern up and seemed to regard it for a moment before a thunderous clicking noise turned night into bright day all around once again.

"Alright." She said with a sigh while Furio squinted his eyes against the light. "Let me have a look at you."

Why could he hear no one firing yet?

"You are bold ones, little people, I leave you that." Her voice thundered into the white mist. "I'll be gone. You win this time."

Then he could see her and his breath stuck in his throat. She was a girl. A girl. Nothing more. Clad in dark blue britches and huge leather boots, she stood amongst flattened trees and torn earth. The white shirt that hugged her ample chest had blackened wholes in it where the artillery had hit her.

He could spy no injury upon her though, safe for a few tiny spots of red where her skin had been pierced by scorpions and ballisti. Where Furio's massive fireball had hit her, her hair had burned away a few meters at the most and her cheek was blackened slightly, next to her mouth that showed a defeated smile. She was pretty, even for all her insane enormity. And she looked tired.

She could surely not be the work of demons.

"Fire!" Phillipe screamed into his funnel.

For an instant, he could see her smile turn into a frown. There was a horrible moment where they all looked at each other with the echo of Phillipe's command fading in the distance. Then the mangonels 'wooshed' as they carried their burning balls of hay, pitch and oil up into the air. The catapults crashed when their throwing arms slammed into their bars. Scorpions and ballistas thrummed and creaked as their torsion mechanisms were released.

"No!" The titaness cried out in a profoundly girlish tone and she made to shield her face with her arms.

All projectiles struck true, just as Phillipe had said they would, and a moment later her shirt was ablaze with fire.

All shouted then, for joy, for victory, for death to the monster but for reloading most of all. She screamed too, beating helplessly at her burning garment. It looked grotesque as she danced around, stomping the ground with her feet, burning.

"Fire!" Phillipe shouted once more. "Fire again, bring her down!"

The gargantuan thing screeched, trying to wriggle out of her burning shirt. Her enormous breasts were held by a refined bosom holder such as only the noblest women of Horas could afford.

'Where would she get such fine garb at her size?' Furio found himself pondering absurdly.

She cried now ontop of it all and babbled something in her alien tongue. As soon as they had reloaded, the artillery fired again. First the spear throwers feathered her with their massive steel-tipped bolts then the catapults and mangonels hurled giant balls of fire onto her naked skin. She wriggled and squirmed as they hit her, dancing closer to them until she had reached the patch of land were the trees had been removed.

She had beaten out the largest flames on her shirt to smoke and ember by then and had been pulling it over her head, blinding her. It was tangled around her head with the giant lantern that she refused to give up and she seemed unable to get out of it in her panic. Furio could see the infantry advancing by then, squares of pikes with broad ranks of crossbow behind them. It looked insane, like an army of living toy soldiers marching against their master.

Then the behemoth fell.

Tripping over her own feet, Janna slammed on to the ground with her full length. Her arms caught up in the ruin of a shirt, she was not even able to shield her head against the impact. Her lantern was smashed out of her grasp and came to a sudden grinding halt on the soft ground, partially tangled in her clothes that had finally torn free of her, still smoking. The strange, fluorescent light stayed alive this time.

She was not getting up and stopped struggling. Her movements were slow and painful. She sighed, moaned and groaned. She had taken a blow. Their chance had come.

"Come along mage!" Phillipe shouted at Furio. "Let us not miss out on this victory!"

It was all a hazy blur after that. He climbed his horse and followed the major in the cavalry charge around the advancing foot. The second royal guard of horse wore armoured suits, one piece from calf to half helm. Steel sabres with golden hand guards gleamed in the night.

They had felt great then. They had the edge, over her! Such a giant beast brought down by them, the little people who had been so afraid of her. The gods had been with them, the men's shouts and screams left little doubt of that.

"For Rondra!" They screamed. "For Horas! For death and honour!"

They felt unstoppable and every man turned his fear of the monster into blows and thrusts and bolts against it's skin. She was massive beyond anything any of them had ever seen. They could only reach the side of her body, nothing above their arm's reach and nothing beneath her mountainous weight that compacted the earth beneath her.

She was still dazed, that much was clear. Her hands were holding her head and her legs were slowly pushing ground into hills as though she was trying to crawl backwards but was unable to. It might have been an unconscious reflex all the same. She squirmed on the ground and sighed constantly with pain. When one of the weapons broke her skin, she flinched away, causing the men on the opposite side of her to have to jump away.

Phillipe was afoot and hacking his sabre blunt upon the side of her exposed belly. She was lying on her back, her face looking upward, and every part of her that they could reach they were hacking and stabbing at like butchers.

Armed only with his staff, the mage knew he stood no chance to participate in the slaughter. His weapon was simply too blunt.

But other than to cause some discomfort to the momentarily incapacitated enormity of a girl the men's weapons were doing no real damage either. Too thick was her skin, too tough, and she was simply too much flesh entirely. Upon her britches and leather boots, all hope was lost. Nothing seemed to be able to penetrate them.

Furio was starting to doubt this entire move.

He had never been given lessons in anatomy. Unlike the demon worshippers the white guild did not dare venture into the topic very far. Dead bodies belonged to Boron, not science, after all. In terms of healing, the magici combattiva relied on Balsam Salabunde, the most common and well-renowned healing spell, little on bandages and stitching and even less on cutting people open to fix their insides manually. Studying a body for killing, or worse, was for the evil men and women, black mages and assassins. Not for him.

He questioned whether he belonged on this battlefield at all.

If truth be told, he had never even killed a man with his staff. His was a world of spells, books, training and service. When he had been attacked by highwaymen on his journeys, a few lances of fire were enough to kill as many of them and send the rest into fleeing. And barely was any highway man foolish enough to attack a man clad in white and golden robes such as he was and he never travelled without at least two reliable guardsmen about him.

In the only fully fledged battle that he had seen at the borders of now Black Tobrien, he had been one amongst thirty mages fighting as some sort of elite skirmisher regiment. The battle of Demon Hog had been so disastrous for both sides that both high commands decided to spend the rest of the brief war manoeuvring and avoiding each other except for a few minor confrontations.

Apart from that Furio had helped bringing outlaws to heel, settling family feudes and aiding in the border disputes and skirmishes that Lords of Gareth and Horasian Barons gave each other every now and then, without official approval from crown or faith of course.

He had been good at that but he had no idea how to kill a monstrocity such as this. He knew however that they would have to open Janna up in order to kill her. That much he had seen often enough.

'But gutting a foe or smashing his head in had not always helped.' He shuddered, pictures of Demon Hog crossing before his mind.

His hand throbbed.

The screaming unnerved him.

At Black Hog the men had screamed as well. For Rondra, for Praios, for victory and death, as long as the battle had gone their way. Many had begged for their mothers by the end or even turned their swords against themselves.

"Mage!" Phillip demanded of him, throwing his ruined weapon onto the ground before pulling Furio of his horse, shaking him in desperation. "How do we kill her?!"

Furio had no idea. They were on her left side but he could not see any substantial injury upon her, not even where his Ignisphereo had struck her cheek. It had burned her hair a bit and blackened her cheek with soot but that was about as much as the fireapples had been able to do. Her skin was simply too thick.

Desperately he tore free of the major and evoked Ignifaxius, a moderate lance of fire against her skin, shooting from his burned, throbbing hand. Unlike the fireball, the lance did not injure it's own master and he was glad for that. But it did not injure the beast either he saw upon inspecting the sooty spot where it had hit her.

"Ahhh..." The monstrous girl moaned and her mid section came rushing towards them.

Someone had hurt her on the other side, he knew. The men jumped away.

Furio saw one man getting his leg trapped beneath her before being forced down up onto his waist. He screamed as his legs were crushed before the rest of him was forced down until only the tip of his head was visible, being pushed into the earth.

Phillipe took the weapon off a helbardier and slammed it's point into where one of the scorpion bolts had torn out of the beast, sending the grotesquely large thing squirming the other way like a puppet master.

The soldier was freed and dragged out by his comrades, bawling with terror, dirty all over.

"I can't feel my legs!" He screamed as the squashed ruins of them dragged loosely behind him on the ground.

At Demons Hog Furio had heard similar cries too many times.

Their artillery had made ruins of men as well but that had not deterred them from coming. The forces of evil had been fewer to begin with and were decimated quickly by the Horasians superior tactics and equipment.

In the Horasian army, heavy infantry fought in regimental formation protecting the ranks of crossbows against cavalry with pole-weapons where it was the job of the light infantry to defend their spear- and pike-walls against being broken by enemy foot. In turn it was also their job to open gaps in the enemy formation for the cavalry to rush into. Crossbows fired in devastating voleys to the enemy lines while the artillery tore up their centre.

The Tobriens with their mostly levy army should never have stood a chance. But then, the black robes had stepped into the middle of the carnage, and the Horasian forces found themselves evenly matched soon.

They had been most confident of victory when the place of battle became clear. A patch of wonderful meadows with the greenest grass that had grown over a moor drained by peasants for farming. Suitable, open ground with a few thin tree lines, almost optimal for the Horasian war machine.

The gross of the Tobrien forces had been the sons and nephews of the peasants that had drained the swampy land, turning it into one of the most fertile on the continent. They had been forced to fight by the evil men and no one doubted that they would break easily. But as it turned out, the horde of rabble, enforced by bloody, evil sell-swords that worshipped their false sell-sword god, Kor, was more afraid of their new masters than the enemy.

Furio had soon learned why.

He closed his eyes trying to get the horrors of old out of his head to be able the tackle the ones of new.

He wanted to help the man, but knew he could not waste any of his remaining astral energy on a simple soldier.

When Furio had pulled himself out of the mire at Demon Hog a dead man with no legs had come crawling after him. That one had not screamed though. The dead ones never did. Not even in his dreams.

Instead of choosing patches of land with forests and steeper hills, the servants of darkness had strangely chosen the place then called Low Hog, the site of some ancient, forgotten battle to meet their righteous foe. Whether the swamps had been there before then or only formed after the antique slaughter, the books Furio consulted afterwards did not agree upon. But ever since Low Hog was called Demon Hog, the swamps were back.

To this day, people were attacked trying to pass them by, and the locals swore to hear queer noises and screaming whenever the fog was thickest.

"Watch out!" Phillipe shouted and slammed into the mage.

A huge hand, more than five meters wide and fingers of nigh equal length slammed on top of them. Phillipe had saved Furio from being trapped beneath it but had not been able to help the injured man and the two that carried him.

When the gargantuan thing lifted they could see their bodies smashed against the ground. The beast had felt the major's thrust into her wound and slapped at him with her hand as one might slap one's shoulder upon feeling a mosquito.

The men were moving what limbs remained un-smashed but were far beyond saving.

'Dead men moving.' Furio could not help but think.

His head started spinning.

When the black robed men spread their arms and began those unspeakable rituals, the earth opened and death came pouring out of it. Corpses, rotten and clad in ancient armour, skeletons, mummies, zombies came at them with dead eyes and solemn silence. Anyone, anything, died that day did not stay dead but rose again to unleash it's fury upon the living.

What the army of death lacked in screaming their masters had made up for with their unholy chanting in demonic tongues.

The Horasians had met that army bravely enough at first but soon they faced not only dead and living enemies but fallen friends as well. It was chaos. The man next to one that fought to keep free one's flank would change sides with empty eyes and quickly cooling hands as soon as he fell a moment later. Any sensible man was fleeing on both sides with only the hardest, most determined and outright insane remaining on the field.

Some white mages and priests of Praios invoked their own spells and prayers to counteract the dark weavings of the opposite side. Demons screamed in the fog that layed itself upon the land.

In the end, the earth had decided that it had enough of their back and forth, tearing at the very definitions of alive and dead, and had started to swallow them up. The water was rising first, dark black and foul, stinking, crawling up through the ground just like the dead things had.

Soon they were knee deep in it, fighting on, sinking into the ground that turned to quick mud beneath their soles. Artillery pieces sank first, then the horses. At last, men were crawling through waist deep mud, drowning each other or hacking at hordes of dead things coming after them.

The black mages had lost control of their creatures quickly and soon it had become a battle, living against dead. Furio had made his way out by then, their regiment shattered. When his trusty old friend Fabrizio had come to strangle him and Furio had to burn his dead but living body, he could not fight on any more.

He wanted to flee now too and knew that this was a prudent thing to do.

In terror, his pale white mare had left him though and he doubted that he would get out of here on foot. When he climbed to his feet, he noticed that the monstrous girl had sat up, looking at the tiny people hacking at her. Pain and irritation were written all over her face.

Now they could only reach her britches and boots though and those they could not get through. The tide had turned.

"Run! Flee!" People called.

"Stay and fight!" Replied others.

Furio turned his head just in time to see an unhorsed rider run over him, the spike on the soldier's armoured knee grazing his temple. He was knocked back and could feel blood pouring from his wound.

"Stay and fight!" Phillipe screamed and threw his hellbard after the man. "Pikemen, square formation! Crossbows, aim at her face! Riders, ahorse! Ahorse!"

The major came over and lifted Furio to his feet by the collar of his mud-stained robes.

Confused, the mage looked around. He saw five Pikemen forming up in the chaos, their weapons raised against the giant hand that wanted to swat them flat. It smashed the weapons from their hands, two pikes breaking but drew back producing an irritated "Ouch" from above.

"Mage! Do something!" Phillipe shook him again.

The conventional soldier was at the end of his conventional wisdom.

Furio fought to keep his mind on track. He remembered the countless lessons in magica combattiva, lessons in tactics, history, politics, rhetoric, poetry, philosophy, religion, magical artifacts, alchemy, staff-fighting, protective and supporting spells. He racked his brains over anything he had learned that might help them.

The hand came back again sweeping at the pikemen from the side, scattering men and weapons over the ground. One of the giantess' legs shot up, moved sideways and buried a forlorn rider under a gargantuan, brown leather boot. The giantess was about to get up.

"Mage!" Phillipe took Furio tighly by his collar, raising a dagger beneath his chin.

The man looked as though he might stab him dead at any moment, eyes white with fear and terror. And if the major would not open his throat, the huge creature next to them would simply crush him eventually.

'Will I meet Fabrizio when I enter Boron's kingdom?' He asked himself.

That was unlikely, for the afterlife was known to be barred to the undead.

He remembered when they were but young, stupid novices, making fools of themselves at magic.

"I found a new spell!" The two chamber mates would tell each other ever so often after sneaking into the library at night to rummage through dusty, old tomes looking for spells that they hoped would turn them into great sorcerers with the turn of a hand.

But all the old, oh-so-mighty magic had not worked, spoken through their young, foolish mouths.

The only one they ever found of use had been one Fabrizio stumbled upon. The crumbling page with the formula had been torn out and put into a young, boring book about rare herbs that could be found on the frozen Isle of Yeti, the most northern point of the continent that not even the Nivese of the ice deserts ventured upon. Furio might never have looked at it twice.

They spent nights decrypting the ancient writing but by the time they were done, they were quite disappointed. Bannbaladin, for it's mighty sounding name, was quite a trivial spell.

Furio had used it first upon a fearsome guard dog of the academy's nightwatch, just to try it out. The ever snarling and unfriendly creature had come trotting towards him after that and licked his hand.

Then, the boys had used it a few times to impress. Their fellow novices could never quite believe how they got the most beautiful tavern wenches to sit on their laps and wrap their arms around them. How arrogant, perfumed courtesans on the prowl for rich men would drink with them like old friends.

It had been child's play, a dangerous one though, for one could never tell how long it lasted on. At the end of it the girls would look at them confused and oft as not strike them with a slap to the face. They could never afford to waste too much energy on fooling around, lest it would be noted during their lessons.

But know, Furio could spend all the energy he had left, for all the good that would do him. It was as worth a shot as any, he judged.

'Or am I being a fool?' He thought to himself. 'Should I not rather be casting fire upon her skin?'

For that she would crush him outright, he had no doubt.

He looked at the giantess and whispered the words, adding the variant Fabrizio had figured out to make it last longer so he could seduce Marie, a young, pretty neophyte of his affection. That way, the Bannbaladin was harder to invoke, and it had been made even harder by the fact that Marie's mind was used to magic, or so Fabrizio had said.

Furio felt that the titanic, female monster before him had a huge resistance to magic too even though he could sense no astral aura about her. He tried casting the spell again, finding it harder with every try.

There was no telling if it had worked.

Crossbows shooting at her face had forced the giantess to shield herself with her arms again, locking her to the ground. A huge foot stomped blindly, sixty meters off, crushing a soldier to death every now and then.

"Stop her!" Phillipe screamed into Furio's face pushing the dagger painfully into his skin.

'He's mad.' Furio thought. 'He has gone entirely mad.'

Furio invoked Armatrutz upon himself to be safe from the blade. The iron touch as well as his fear and confusion made spell-casting extremely difficult but he could feel the pain fade away somewhat, afterwards.

"Call for retreat! There's naught we can do!" He advised Lefleur, begging, but knew that the officer would not follow him.

A moment later, the mage found him pinched in between two five meter long digits, flailing with his arms.

"Leave him alone, you!" The giant woman growled angrily.

Before Furio quite understood what was going on, he saw Phillipe Lefleur ram his dagger into the monstrosity of a thumb that was holding him.

"Ah!" The beast hissed and dropped him.

He fell four meters and landed in the dirt with his cuirass creaking and a scream of pain. Disdain was written on the giant girl's gargantuan face and she balled her hand into a fist, ready to smash tiny Phillipe into pulp.

"Halt!" Furio called out.

For a horrible moment, his eyes met that of the giantess.

"Leave him be! He is a friend!" He called then, hoping against hope.

"He had a knife to your throat." She remarked sceptically before wincing as a crossbow bolt slammed into her eyeball.

She grunted furiously and stomped the shooter flat on the spot.

"Stop!" Furio called out before turning to those men that were not fleeing yet. "Cease fire! Stop attacking her!"

The men did either not hear him or did not heed his words.

"This is all a big misunderstanding!" He told the titaness pleadingly.

Bannbaladin was a fragile thing. If she remembered that he was no friend of her at all he would not get away with a slap to the face this time.

His hand throbbed with pain.

-

Janna was confused. Her head hurt from where she had hit it and she could feel the stinging pain of many of the artillery arrows sticking in her skin. She was feeling sick too and hoped that she had not suffered a concussion.

Tiny men were running from her in terror while others tried in vain to stick their awfully long spears in her legs and buttocks through her jeans. Her eyes had been hit with crossbow bolts like tiny splinters but that went away after blinking a few times.

She remembered the tiny men attacking her all of a sudden when she had only wanted her lantern. Then she must have fallen somehow and hit her head. She did not know for how long she had been incapacitated but judging from the hundreds of needle stings in her side, she had given them ample time to attack her.

With her tiny friend safe from his attacker, she looked forward to giving the miniature soldiers some payback.

She scooped up a group of pikemen in between her fingers and lifted them up. All in all it was maybe a dozen of them, not counting the ones she hadn't gotten or fallen to the ground. She looked at them in contempt before crushing them in between her fingers and palm. The rest of the group remaining on the ground she swatted dead like flies with a bloody hand a moment later.

Then she moved her butt to the right, burying nine men beneath her, feeling their bodies pop.

There were so many of them. The ones still around added to the many running into the distance would be several hundreds at least, if not almost a thousand total.

"Stop!" Her tiny friend called out in desperation.

What was his name again? She couldn't remember somehow.

He looked an awful lot like the mage that had flung a ball of fire at her head but that could only be because of his robes. He was her friend. He'd never hurt her.

"If they are your friends, why are they attacking me?" She demanded of him.

That was a good question, she thought oddly to herself. But if his stupid friends wanted to stay alive, they would only have to stop attacking her.

The tiny man tried to tell them as much but the idiots didn't listen. The ones around her butt and legs did not bother her much, but the crossbow shooters were annoying. She flicked three of them away with her fingers. Maybe that would help them getting the message. The ones she hit would never fire a crossbow again, but it sent others to fleeing which was good.

"No! Wait!" Janna's tiny friend called out when she rose to her feet.

It was just too easy, like stepping on bugs. Boom, boom, squelch, her feet turned fleeing men around her into mush beneath her sole. When she had gotten up, they all started running. All except her tiny friend. She made a point of stepping on a few more.

It seemed the logical thing to do. After all, they had attacked her first. She would have just taken the lantern and gone but they had insisted on a fight. What were they expecting? Surely they could not presume to stab a twelve thousand ton goddess and get away without losing a few men.

She felt dizzy and confused and strangely torn in half. She wanted to spare her friend's comrades on his behalf, but then again she had no love and no regard for them herself. She tracked a group of three stragglers with her boot, ready to bring it down and squish them.

"Please stop killing us!" She could hear her friend beg.

He seemed really distraught.

She sighed and let them go. If they meant that much to him she did not want to deny him his comrades' lives. She hoped that he would not be too discontent with her. All in all she had killed somewhere in between fifty and a hundred of them. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was as tiny and fragile as the men she had squished like grapes in a vat.

She would hate to see him get crushed out of existence like that. Luckily, Laura was no where around.

Janna wondered where she was though and hoped that she would make it back to the ship on her own or be smart enough to remain were Janna could find her. When they met again, Janna would have the lantern to show to her, proof of victory over the surprisingly resistant army of tinies. Maybe she should go back and look for her.

When she shifted her foot to stand more comfortably she felt something squish underneath the sole of her boot and hoped that it had just been some dead guy.

But to her surprise, she found her tiny friend on his knees looking at her shoe in desperation, hands on his head.

She could not see the one that had attacked him. He must have been attacking her, she reasoned, and had gotten himself killed in the process.

A loud "Oops!" escaped her lips, rather unladylike.

Guiltily she lifted her foot to see what was left of him. It wasn't much. Janna weighed more than twelve thousand nine hundred tons and the sole of her boot was unforgiving. The tiny man's armour was still shiny even in it's flattened state, it's owner squashed beyond recognition.

-

Major Phillipe Lefleur had gone mad. Upon seeing the giant beast tread his men into the ground with terrifying ease he had picked up a two-hander from the ground and charged at her. By the time he arrived she had stopped though, but that did not soothe his fury. Helpless, Furio watched the officer disappearing beneath that titanic, brown boot making him it's latest victim yet.

The thing that called itself Janna did not even seem to have noticed before after the fact. The mage, for all his powers and knowledge could not help but feel like an insignificant bug before her.

He did not know what to do now. All men were fleeing quickly. The commanding officer was dead. That put Captian Emilio Rieu back in charge, but he too was nowhere around. The craven had not even joined the charge and remained safe and sound at the tower, behind the catapults. At least the giantess was not pursuing anyone for now.

Furio knew he had to keep the spell going and he recast it upon Janna's gargantuan form. He hoped that it had worked. If not, he'd find out about it as soon as the effect of the first spell was over. He would have to keep it going somehow but feared of his astral power's limitedness.

Sleep could restore it as could meditation, but that would interrupt the spell and be their doom. There were alchemical means of restoring astral power, but those were extremely expensive and very rare. Among other most refined ingredients, the potions required snow of the first day of the month Hesinde and that was naturally hard to store anywhere.

A skilled alchemist could substitute of course, but that had the effect of watering the potion down, lessening it's effect. Maybe one of the mages in camp could provide him with an unexpired potion, but for that he needed to rely on a rider to carry the message and of those all had routed, or been crushed, men and horses all.

He couldn't decide which was more horrible. The sound of these gargantuan boots turning people into porridge or the chanting, singing and screaming of Demon Hog. The Hog was still worse, he decided upon thinking about it. Today, here, at least, the dead people stayed dead for good and no old friends came at him to rip his throat out. The major had lost his mind and threatened to stab him dead, but the two had had no affiliation before hand. And the ginormous girl had saved Furio and told Phillipe to stay away from him.

He looked up at the her and found her looking back at him. Should he talk to her? He had to keep the illusion of friendship going.

Friends, he had to remind himself that they were friends now for as long as Bannbaladin worked. The spell reminded her of that but it didn't work the other way around.

Furio flexed his throbbing hand before he realized that he must look like a beaten dog to Janna.

'Cunning.' He thought. 'I have to be cunning about this. Elsewise she might crush me and go over to the tower and do the same to everyone else.'

Then, this part of the border would be open to the giants again. Failure. He would not let that happen.

"H...how have you been?" He called up to her clumsily.

That was what friends often said upon seeing each other after long periods of time.

"Uh..." She crouched down to him looking around in search of words. "You know...good..."

She avoided looking at him, her eyes wandering off.

This was not working he knew immediately. It was too awkward. Already there seemed to be doubts in her eyes as if she was asking herself how she had come to know him. He had to keep her thoughts away from that and work with what he had.

"I am sorry we attacked you." He told her. "That was not right of us."

"I'm sorry I killed so many of your men." She replied, looking genuinely ashamed. "Are you mad at me for that?"

The question was revolting but maybe he'd be able to exploit the guilt on her face if it was genuine. Making girls feel guilty had led them to giving themselves to him a few times before, back when he was young and cared about that kind of thing, so why not try it with this one.

"They barely pricked your skin and burned your tunic." He scolded her. "You killed them for that!"

'They were hell-bent on killing you as much as you killed them, and so was I.' He thought, but he'd sooner die than tell her that.

"You're right, that was...excessive." She lowered her gaze. "Were they good friends of yours?"

No, they were not, he reflected. They were soldiers who knew what they had gotten themselves into. He griefed them only for their value to the army, if truth be told. Phillipe Lefleur, the major, was the biggest loss of all. Capable, seasoned officers such as him were not easily replaced at the border of Andergast and Nostria, not even for the Horasian army.

"No." He said truthfully. "But they were fleeing! You could have let them be when they were fleeing."

The titanic, young woman gave him a weighing look: "So you tell me, your army spares routing foes?"

'She's smarter than I thought, this one.' He thought, biting his lip, tasting blood.

The guilt on her face was already gone. Clearly, she cared little about honor and even less about people's lives.

While he thought about how to reply, the enormous creature made a quick move to retrieve her lantern, setting it by their side so as to get a better look of him.

"Oh my, you are bleeding!" She called out with wide eyes.

In her all-consuming presence he had forgotten about his head wound as well. His face was covered in blood by now and the largest part of his robes had turned from white and gold over grey with dust and mud spattered to crimson red and pink.

"It's nothing." He assured her. "Head wounds always bleed most horridly, even if they're but a scratch like this one."

Another wound he could not afford to heal now. It did not matter though. It was no life-threatening wound and Balsam Salabunde did not even leave a scar, even after a week later. It pre-empted possible infections as well. A most useful spell, one that the magici of the army should make more use of, he thought.

Furio struggled to keep the conversation going until a new idea sprung into his head.

"You are right though." He continued hastily. "Our army rides fleeing men down like any other. Such is the way of war. But it grieves me that you would think of us as foes."

Could this really work or was he too bold, he thought to himself.

"Your men attacked me first." She defended herself. "Look at me."

She had the right of that, Furio could see as she started to pull scorpion bolts out of body with pain on her face. She continued doing so with stoic determination, never minding the odd drop of unearthly thick blood that formed on this wound or that.

"We can treat those wounds." He offered. "Our medici should have a look at them. Allow us to make this right by you."

'This madness is going to be the death of you, fool!' He warned himself.

"You think?" She replied sceptically. "They don't go very deep, I think it's just scratches."

"Not very deep, may-haps." He allowed but halted.

He was unsure if he really wanted to follow through with this. Winning her real friendship would solve all their problems at once. If he was somehow able to get rid of her now she might come back and revisit them as soon as the spell wore off. If they earned her trust she might spare them though, whenever she would cross paths with the Horasian army again.

Her threat of destroying Bethana and Havena still rang in his ears. If she would follow up on them, hundreds of thousands would die if she succeeded. It was his duty to try and avoid that.

"But common siege engineers have been known to rub their munitions with feces and nastier things." He warned, lying through his teeth.

Such was the work of evil men who did not care about Rondrian values of fair combat.

"The wounds might fester. You will get a fever and die. For the love you bare me, let not let that happen."

His hand throbbed and he bit his teeth in anticipation of her reply. He had figured out to talk to her like a true, old friend by now but Furio knew that he was still balancing on the edge of a blade.

"Really?" She sounded greatly discomforted by that.

They were just over half a kilometer away from the tower. If he recast Bannbaladin upon her now he could go there, issue a report and send for the medici among other things and be back before it wore off. It was past time he recast it anyway.

"I do not have much time." She said, looking back to where she had came from. "My friend is out there with no light. I should go. I am worried about her."

'Oh, no. Not that.' He thought.

One gargantuan girl was hard enough to control as it were.

"We will send riders while we treat your wounds." He offered, lying again.

'Praios forgive me for I do this for the good of my people.'

"Your companion will be as hard to miss as you, I trust. Just point them to the right direction. We will find her and bring her to you."

"She might...eat them though." The titanic girl frowned, sceptically.

"They will know your name." Furio reassured her. "Surely she cannot eat them all before at least one has gotten the word out? These are soldiers, my dear, they are used to dying. I am willing to do this thing. For you."

'That was good." He thought. 'Remind her of your friendship, often and loudly.'

He only hoped that Captain Emilio would see the sense in his plan. The fact that the artillery was not firing gave him some hope at least.

With one last worrying look back to the path of broken trees, the giant of Janna agreed.

The spell was harder to cast with every new time. After telling the huge, young woman to sit down and not make any threatening moves he hurried off. He was well out of breath when he arrived at the tower.

"What are we doing?" Frightened soldiers asked him as he marched straight along.

He paid them no mind.

Emilio met him at the entrance to the tower.

"Mage!" The captain demanded, sniffing. "What in Horas name are you conversing with her? Tell me quick, I command it!"

'I am not yours to command.' Furio thought, gnashing his teeth.

But the medici, riders and supplies were.

"I have been able to turn her friendly towards me for now." He explained, quickly. "There is not much time. Heed my words, Captain, and we may turn this into a great victory."

"Should I have the artillery fire?" The fool replied in confusion.

"No." Furio replied, still patiently. "Do not threaten her under any circumstances. I have need of the medici we have here and I need you to send word to main camp as swiftly as possible. We need every healer we can get, the entire corps if we can get it, bring the priests too, those that are skilled in treating wounds."

"This is madness!" Emilio Rieu exclaimed. "You mean to heal the beast? Have you lost your wits, mage?"

"I mean to turn her into an ally!" Furio spat in rage.

He had no time for this foolishness.

"I need the cavalry too. We have to coy her into believing we are looking for her companion. Let her see them ride off but tell them to not to find anything unless they are found first."

"Folly!" Emilio dismissed him. "I shall send for more re-enforcements while you keep her still. We can kill her wh-"

"We can't kill her!" Furio interrupted him harshly. "We can't burn her, we can't stab her, we'd need a battering ram to get through to her heart!"

He was breathing heavily with rage.

"Do you expect her to lay still for you, while the engineers labour on her chest?! No! She may kill us all if we do not do this thing! Do you want to be remembered as the fool who caused the failure of this expedition?! Do you want to die like Lefleur?!"

Fear and doubt crept upon the captain's face with those last words. The only thing a craven could be relied upon was to be craven. Furio dared to consider it done, even though Emilio was still too proud to admit that he was wrong.

"I also need a magic potion to regain my strength." Furio told him, calmer now. "If we have such a thing, any mages at camp will know what I am talking about. Also, have the rations stored here loaded onto cart. She might be hungry. Bring all of it and ask for more."

-

Janna saw a considerable group of riders make a large detour around her before vanishing into the forest next to where the trees were all torn up. Her tiny friend had kept word, it seemed. She could not remember meeting him before though. Something told her that she was being played, that this was all some trick. He didn't look like a druid but that didn't have to mean anything. Was he bewitching her?

No, not him. He was her friend. She trusted him. He'd never do that to her.

She felt oddly cleft in twain about him. She would not want her mind to be messed with.

The blood on his face made it hard to make out his features. He was an older man with shaven face, counting tall amongst the tiny people if she was any judge. He was clad in thick robes that might have been white once, but were stained with blood and mud. His skull was hugged tightly by a brown leather cap with lips that hung over the side of his face and she could not tell what colour his hair was if he had any.

"Janna!" He called out to her after mumbling something unintelligible. "This is doctore Guiseppe Ontario, medicus by the pleasure of his magnficense Horasio the third! They will treat your wounds, have no fear!"

Next to the balding, white haired doctore he had a younger man and woman in tow. The three approached her anxiously, looking more sceptical than anything else.

"Don't be afraid now." The tiny robed man told them. "Treat her wounds. Clean them good. We would not want our friend to get an infection!"

Janna really worried about that too.

"Don't be afraid." She repeated to help them overcome their fear, awkwardly aware of the flattened corpses nearby.

She had been careful not to sit upon any of her friend's flattened comrades and gain some distance from the slaughter.

Her tiny friend had her lay on her back and stay still so that they could treat those wounds on her side first. Whatever ointment they applied gingerly to the cuts stung a bit but not too bad.

"The smaller cuts are crusted already, master magicus." The woman called out. "Should we open them again?"

"Call me Furio." The robed man advised her patiently but with emphasis. "And you shall treat the bigger wounds first. The ones where she pulled scorpion bolts out of her skin. Here, like that one, see?"

Furio, that was his name, Janna realized and pondered whether she had heard it before. It seemed familiar but strange at the same time. She did not know this people, that much she was sure about. Their talk was different and their attire more refined than that of the other locals she had seen.

That he was a mage, she had suspected all along, but now there could be no doubt. Would it be rude to ask him, just for reassurance, if he was messing with her head?

"Have you bewitched me, Furio?" She asked bluntly.

She turned her head to see his reaction.

He looked pale but that might have been because he was taking offence. No, he would not do that. He was her friend. She already wanted to apologise for the lack of trust when he dragged the leather cap off his head, revealing short, black hair, shiny and oiled backwards.

He looked at her, struggling for a moment.

"Do you think so ill of me?" He said, sounding distraught.

"No." She smiled apologetically. "Of course not."

She felt almost entirely reassured. There was something in his voice that let her know that she could trust him. Even if she didn't remember where and when they met, she knew that she knew that she could befriended with this one in no time. The question on her tongue was awkward but surely he'd forgive her if she offered it as an explanation.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot remember ever meeting you before." She tried to explain herself.

Maybe she should do some brain-jogging exercises to improve her memory.

"The circumstances of our knowing were most queer." He replied vaguely. "It will come back to you in time. For now let us treat your wounds."

He was right, she trusted, but racked her brain over where and when it had been. It could have been the night Laura and her were drinking, or at any point back when she felt so confused over all and everything about this world. Maybe Laura knew him and she hoped those riders would find her soon.

The tiny medics were soon done with the wounds on her side and right arm and the doctore told Furio as much. Janna turned right, lying sideways so that they might treat her left arm next. They had almost run out of ointment though.

Furio assured her that there was more on the way when Janna let him know that Laura had sustained injuries as well. Now she could see the tiny people at their work. They appeared nervous and uncertain most of all. They washed the stings out with water from buckets they had brought before applying the ointment.

"Tell me." Furio started suddenly. "What business did you have, coming here?"

"My friend and I were looking for food." She replied.

That had the medics fearfully looking up from their work.

"Don't worry, I won't eat you until you are done patching me up." Janna quipped smiling.

She'd meant it as a joke but they did not take it as such. The girl even started wheeping a little while smearing ointment into one of the scratches. Her belly didn't get the joke either, rumbling noisily. The doctore was old but the younger ones did look tasty. Janna felt her mouth water. Furio would not appreciate it if she ate them though.

The mage signalled to the tower with his hands.

"Food is coming." He announced, visibly glad to be of service. "It is not the finest cuisine I am afraid. The food of the common soldier is...an acquired taste, shall we say."

"At our size, we cannot afford to be picky." Janna was full of thanks. "That is so kind of you! My friend and I will need much though. We are very big..."

"I did not miss that. But the Horasian army is anything if not well supplied." He responded with a mild chuckle. "We boast some of the best logistics in the world if you can believe it. Eat as much as you require. More is already on it's way as we speak."

Horasian, Janna had heard that somewhere before at least.

"Oh Furio, I don't know how I can thank you!" She sighed.

Her friend smiled warmly: "One hand washes the other."

-

Message from Captain Emilio Rieu, serving at the pleasure his royal magnificence Horasio the third.

Hail Horas! Hail the emperor!

Encountered two female giants of spectacular proportions, approx. four hours before zero. Driven off with artillery. No losses.

One foe returning to retrieve illumination (artifact). Major Phillipe Lefleur in command. Attack with re-enforcements failed. Approx. six dozen killed in action, no wounded, aprox. two hundred missing. Desertion suspected. No gains. Lefleur killed in action. I am back in command.

At my orders, Magicus Furio Montane assumed control of female giant aprox. 100 meters tall by magic. Situation under control for now.

Request any medical personel at disposal. Request food supply. Dispatch immediately.

Magicus requests certain potion to refill his powers with urgency.

Time is of the essence.

Captain Emilio Rieu

-

The food arrived first. Three wooden wagons dragged by oxen, laden dangerously high with chests and barrels. Janna rose, sending the tiny medics scurrying away.

She did not ask any questions and reached for a chest, prying it open with her fingernail, breaking the entire wooden lid off. It was filled with bread that tasted stale in her mouth. Furio was right. It did not taste very good. Old and dry.

"Wash it down with some wine." The mage beckoned to some barrels upon seeing the look on her face.

Janna had rather flavour the stale food with the dozen men that had been accompanying the carts. They looked nervous, trying to keep the oxen from panicking in her presence. One man unloaded a barrel and smashed it open with an axe. She poured the contents into her mouth.

It was wine, though a remarkably sour vintage. But it was wine. It had been so long since she tasted that. Back on earth, she had scorned wine of course and preferred the pre-filled sweet alcopops that they drank at parties before turning to harder booze. That was the main reason she had gotten into this situation, she reflected. Had she partied less and studied more, she would never have to join one of Professor...Professor...she could not recall his name either. She would not have had to join one of these stupid voyages.

She washed it up with saliva and gulped it all down, thankfully.

"Try this one." Furio pointed to a smaller, marked barrel. "It is the wine for the officers, none of the common, foul stuff!"

The other men had gotten the message by then and started opening barrels for her that she could drink like miniature shots. The barrel Furio had pointed at barely contained enough liquid to wet her tongue but she noticed the remarkably sweeter flavour immediately.

"Mhh." She exclaimed, smacking her lips.

"We in the Horasian empire grow the finest wines on the continent." The tiny mage boasted with a smile.

"I knew that." Janna lied awkwardly.

He was so good to her, how could she have forgotten him?

In the next barrel she found pickled pork, salty and savoury. She mixed it with two chests of bread to fight the saltyness. It wasn't half bad. When she reached for wine she found pickled vegetables instead and the taste was so bitter and repulsive that she could not help but make a face.

"Yes, I do not like it either." The mage chuckled generously. "But it keeps the men from losing their teeth. Try that one if you are looking for something sweet."

The one he pointed at contained a jelly that tasted like oranges. That was almost enough to make her cry. She had thought she would not taste any citrus fruit for years to come if ever again at all.

She stuffed her mouth with chest after chest of stale bread after that to forget the taste that so reminded her of home. It was perriless work though. The chests were reasonably big for the local people, but not to her. She needed two dozen to fill her mouth entirely. Thankfully, the nervous men were opening boxes for her as well so she could eat more quickly.

Soon, she had eaten and drank herself through two wagons and through the third after Furio assured her again that more was on it's way for Laura. No riders had returned as of yet and she started to worry once again.

The mage made a move to stop her when she took the first oxen and tore it loose from the wagon but waved off. When she crunched the screaming, muscular animal in between her molars, the tiny men looked on with mad fear in their eyes. Who was to stop her from eating them too?

No, she thought, Furio would be mad if she did that. Plus, they had bravely come out and brought this much food to her. She ought not to punish them for it. There was lots of meat on the oxen and the other two perished in her mouth as well. Bloody beef this fresh did not need any seasoning. But people tasted better still.

Next to them, right now she had only wood to eat. She had to try.

Janna unceremoniously picked one of the men at random, regarding him in her hand like a praline. Her mouth watered with anticipation of the tiny, screaming morsel, but she had to see Furios reaction first. He had seemingly forgiven her for crushing the other men earlier, maybe he would overlook another simple footman or a dozen of them.

"Halt!" He called out desperately, spreading his arms. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm just playing." She lied blushingly, giving the frightened man in between her fingers a playful look. "I'd never hurt my friend's friends."

She put him down gently enough, trying not to show any disappointment. All the people, with the notable exception of Furio, had taken a few steps back. One man bolted, running screamingly into the night.

"Seize him!" The mage called out.

Janna did as she was bid, though she was not entirely sure he had meant her.

The man's legs kept on running even as she lifted him into the air.

"May I?" She asked her tiny friend, lifting the deserter to her mouth.

Furio looked at her in pain.

"You may." He resolved through gritted teeth after a short while with the man kicking and screaming. "We would have hung him elsewise."

Janna gave the tiny people a wicked smile. The looks of them when she rubbed their insignificance into their faces never got old. She licked her lips before slurping the man into her mouth, clothes and all. She wasn't picky.

The female medic started sobbing again when she started chewing with a demonstrably open mouth, reducing the man to pulp in between her teeth that she swallowed.

"Ahh." She smiled afterwards. "That hit the spot."

She had hoped that it would send more into fleeing so that she could eat them, but they seemed too smart or too disciplined for that and did not move.

Furio was mumbling again as he did ever so often.

People still tasted the best and Janna wanted more but she did not want to anger him either.

"Are these your lands?" She asked, attempting herself at smalltalk to breach the awkward silence.

"No, these are our allies', the kingdom of Nostria." He gestured back towards the tower. "Where the forest begins would be Andergast, approximately. But it is more kin to no man's land before the first settlements, if truth be told."

Janna had heard all those names before. She should start writing things down more often, maybe draw a crude map.

"So, what are you doing here exactly?" She asked next. "Is there something special about that tower?"

It looked rather unspectacular to her, if not a little old.

"You find towers such as this one every here and there amongst the borders, where the forest is light enough to allow larger forces coming through." Furio explained, the sour look remaining on his face. "Many have been neglected but we have manned them all again. Our allies were calling for help against the giants."

"Me? And Laura?" Janna asked aghast.

"No." Furio said unsmiling. "Smaller giants such as you. Have you seen any of them?"

"Albino's." Janna nodded.

To her surprise he saw him stare at her with white eyes. He did not seem to know what to say.

"Albino." She repeated. "He's their king and wants to overthrow your tiny kings and lords and put himself and his kind in their place."

"If I were you, I'd grow a few meters." She smiled at the other tiny people. "As small as you are you'll end up everyone else's plaything before long."

"The pale giant is alive?" Furio inquired gasping.

It seemed very important to him.

"Have you met him? Are you one of his?"

"No, I met a giant that told me all about him. He got killed though, the one who told me I mean." Janna shrugged. "He was looking for the druid Vengyr but I didn't give him up."

-

Furio's head was spinning again. The strain of recasting the spell again and again and his almost drowned out powers were giving him a migraine that made it hard to concentrate.

"Vengyr is alive?!" He gasped. "And you have him?!"

The old druid that Furio had only known from history books had been seen, alive and breathing, in King Aele's hall prior to his death, or so Jindrich Welzelin's letter had reported to the white guild. With the lack of any reports of the druid since, Furio had assumed him dead or missing as had many others.

"'Don't know if you'd call that alive." The titanic girl shrugged again. "I sat on him. He's pretty flat. Couldn't kill him though. Nasty fucker, that one."

High command needed to know about this. Homing pigeons, riders needed to be sent to the white guild. Gareth needed to know as well. This concerned them all.

The real reason for the Horasian expedition, as Furio had no doubt, was to contain the giant-threat early. Once they had consolidated their forces, which was not unlikely now that Albino was putting his pale foot back into the ring, there would be devastating war again that everyone with sense wanted to avoid. If Albino was allowed to dwell and grow his numbers enough, maybe Vengyr would be their best chance of victory in the end as many authors swore he had been last time.

"Oh, nice!" Janna exclaimed suddenly. "More food!"

He had not even heard the wagons arrive. When he looked, he hoped that the giant girl was referring to the chests and barrels, oxen and horses, not the two dozen medical personel and about thirty light infantry that helped get the wagons across the field. None of them looked glad to be here and Furio did not have it in him to blame them. The sight of Janna's maw pulping the man like some naked shrimp and swallow had almost made him wretch.

This wasn't as bad as Demon Hog, but it was close. His hand throbbed as did his temples. He couldn't have the giantess distracted now.

"We need him!" He called out to her. "Where is he?!"

She gave him a surprised look the first chest of food already in her hand.

"He's in our ship." She said.

That didn't make any sense. No ship could possibly be so large as to hold creatures such as these plus there were no large enough waters anywhere in Andergast. She topped it off, still.

"I won't give him to you."

Bannbaladin made her look at him as a friend but would not let herself forget her own self interest. For that, she required more convincing. A lot of it, judging from her frightened undertone.

"He's all smashed up and safely stored and he will stay that way. He is dangerous, don't you know? You're my friend and you have been good to me but that I cannot do, I'm sorry."

"Whom is it she is talking of, Maestro?" A voice behind Furio said.

He turned to see a mage standing before him, her robes white but plainer than his. Rondria Loraine was an acolyte of Bethana on her first adventure to gain some practical experience in magic and the ways of combat. Her young, soft features were pleasing to look upon, though the lipped, padded leather cap on her shaven head did not suit her very well.

'She needs her black, shiny hair to grow and frame her face.' Furio thought, but the woman would only be able to do so as soon as she had reached the rank of at least adeptus minor.

Furio himself had regrown his hair but kept it short to be able to don the leather cap in combat. It felt almost like a helmet and lend him a little courage that way.

"You are injured." The acolyte remarked upon looking at his face.

The stinging pain from his head had expanded into his eyes and Furio found it hard to keep them open.

"Let me..." She layed a hand upon his injured brow and whispered the Balsam Salabunde.

The pain in his head did not go with it, but at least his head wound was taken care of. The touch of her warm hand was most welcome as she tried to wipe some of the dried blood from his face.

"Master Hypperio demands an explanation. He found the letter most cryptic." She addressed him sternly after taking them away.

Furio opened his eyes: "Why has he not come himself?"

The words came out tired and weak. Fear of Janna had kept him on his heels but the acolyte's soft hands had made him forget about that for a moment. He was almost at the end of his strength.

Rondria gave a nervous nod over to the eating behemoth and her noisy chewing. Of course, he thought, Maestro Hypperio was scared as well. He wondered what Emilio had written.

"I am to give you this." She said then and handed him a tiny flask.

It was filled with a pale-white liquid that looked as though tiny snowflakes were dancing in it. He uncorked it with his teeth, not caring about the wax, and poured it into his mouth. It was cold. Ice cold. And when he exhaled after swallowing, his insides freezing up like all nether-hells combined, his breath came out as thick mist.

He gasped and dropped the empty vessel to the ground.

"Your hand." Rondria gestured and took it.

It throbbed a last time before the acolyte's spell healed the burning. The migraine was retreating as well.

"He demands to know what you have done to bind her to your will." She went on. "I too have never heard of a spell that could-"

Fearful, Furio spun around. Janna seemed not to have heard over the sound of two barrels of wine pouring into her mouth at once.

"I have done no such thing!" He whispered sternly to the acolyte before him. "The spell I used makes her believe I am a friend of hers, nothing more. You must not mention it in her presence lest it might be undone. You would doom us all!"

"Master Hypperio..."

Hypperio and Furio were of the same rank. Furio owed him no allegiance.

"Go and tell my fellow Maestro that I find it highly questionable to send an acolyte into harms way rather than himself!" He interrupted her, whispering. "Tell him the giantess has confirmation by a third source about Albino's existence. Tell him Vengyr is alive and the giantess is keeping him captive."

She looked at him in confusion. She had never heard either of those names.

"Albino, Vengyr, can you remember that?" He asked her hushed but with enough urgency in his voice.

Rondria nodded submissively: "Yes, Maestro."

"Run, child. Be quick about it."

He was glad to have the young acolyte away from Janna. Even with his power filled up to some extend there was no telling how long this could go on. The last recasting of the spell had been a while ago and it became harder with every time as was the case with any magica influenza that were cast repeatedly upon the same target.

When he turned around to repeat Bannbaladin's formula once more, he saw the giant girl smile victoriously and reach out over them all. When her hand came back, she held Rondria dangling by her robes.

"You shouldn't run." She told the screaming acolyte with an evil smile. "I get to eat the ones that run."

The giantess had mistaken Rondria for another deserter.

"No!" Furio called out. "She was not running away but carrying a message! You can't eat her! Let her down!"

Janna's huge eyes met his and she raised an eyebrow that was more than two meters long.

"Why should I?" She asked mischievously, regarding the tiny woman dangling in front of her mouth.

Rondria changed hands when the terrifying monstrosity pulled her out of her white robes by a tiny, sandal clad foot. Now the acolyte was naked and upside down, swinging back and forth in those giant finger's grasp. Janna licked her lips before turning her attention back to Furio.

"I need her to carry that message!" The mage tried to reason with her frantically.

"Do mages taste different than other people?" She asked in reply.

The spell was beginning to lose it's power, he realized then. He spoke the words again and again, quickly, but it did not seem to change anything.

'Concentrate.' He thought. 'I must concentrate.'

He closed his eyes to regain focus. When he opened them again, Rondria was on Janna's giant tongue, crying like a babe before those awfully huge lips smacked shut. Instead of chewing or swallowing they could hear Janna's tongue and spittle work inside her mouth. Her lips twisted.

She was sucking on the poor acolyte like a piece of sugar. Furio had no doubt that the suction was enough to tear poor Rondria appart and dissolve her like one.

Then, something queer happened.

"Huh?" Janna frowned all of a sudden and reached into her mouth, pulling out a naked, screaming acolyte.

'Smart girl.' He could not help but think.

It had to have been a most formidable Armatrutz to keep her from being torn to pieces, Furio had no doubt.

If there was any chance, it was now. He worked Bannbaladin again.

Janna looked at Rondria in between her fingers as though she had witnessed a miracle. Then she tossed her back into her mouth and rolled her onto her molars.

"Janna!" Furio commanded sharply. "Stop!"

"Oh, right!" Janna looked at him as if she had forgotten about something.

She had spoken with the girl still inside her mouth but now, thankfully, she spat Rondria into her hand and let her down to the ground.

"Uh, sorry Furio, I have no idea why I did that." It came from the giantess in shame.

Furio let out a deep breath to slow his racing heart.

The pityful acolyte stood crying and shivering, glistening with spit, covering her nakedness with her hands. Furio had to remind Janna once again so that the girl would get her garbs back. After that, Rondria pressed them to her body, wiped her nose with her hands and stepped right out of their midst with stern, quick steps, sniffling. She never looked up and never said a word.

Furio should consider taking her under his wing, he decided. That Armatrutz had greatly impressed him plus the girl had proven courage to come here in the first place. It was about time he got a promising assistant about him as well.

'Hesinde, give me wisdom.' He prayed silently towards the stars. 'How and when can I finally end this.'

The answer was obvious and he followed through with it even though he knew he had a more important duty.

Janna lifted the medici onto her belly after lying back and they went to work as they had been instructed, smearing ointment into her wounds that in reality she probably had little need of. A cunning man might have had them smear the wounds with dog shit, corpse blood or more refined poisons and hoped that she died but such was iniquity, sacrilege. Lying was already a bad enough sin to burden his soul with.

The men and women of the medical corps handled themselves better than Furio had feared. They were nervous and timid of course and he witnessed many a whispered prayer but no one fled or did something foolish. They had trust in their faiths and many had seen their fair share of gruesome wounds and illnesses during their service. When soldiers were close together as they were in field and barrack diseases spread quickly and injuries during training or disciplining were a common thing as well.

Janna continued to pour food into her belly while her front side was being treated. The light infantry unloaded containers for her and opened them before placing them in her fingers. It was done as coordinated and efficiently as could be expected of the Horasian army.

Furio used the respite he was given to recast the spell once more.

"Where is this ship that you spoke of?" He asked while Janna ate.

"It's, uh, east, quite far for a little man like you, I think."

"Tell me about it."

"I never told you before, did I? Well, it's not a ship ship, it's a vessel to visit the stars with. It's how we came here, my friend and I."

That didn't make any sense at all.

She seemed to sense his lack of understanding: "It can fly."

"A flying ship large enough to hold you?" He was incredulous. "Do you take me for a little child? Magic can move things, aye, but no mage was ever mighty enough to lift an entire ship, especially not one with you on top of it."

He had tried to lead the conversation towards Vengyr but talk of this flying ship had startled him. He considered if she could be lying. If the spell was working, that was not likely.

"Not magic." She chuckled, no doubt shaking the poor people working on her body to the marrow. "It is driven by something else. Or was, rather. It is broken."

"A vessel to fly to the stars with? Are you a half-god, Janna, or some demon?"

He knew she was neither. No half-god or demon could ever be fooled by such a cheap trick as Bannbaladin. He half wished to be able to spend more time with her to get to the bottom of this. He sensed that she was full of strange wisdom somehow. It would be a godly thing, most pleasing to Hesinde, to talk more and learn from her. He hoped at the same time that he never must cross paths with her again.

"No, I'm just a girl." Janna laughed heartily. "You know that."

"Of course." He replied, unable to reveal that they did not know each other.

'Would you take me with you to see the druid at least?' The question was lying on his tongue.

He could not say it. He was too scared and knew he would probably not be able to maintain his influence over her long enough.

"Janna." He began instead. "If you gave Vengyr to us, that would be the greatest thing you could ever do for me."

"No. I told you, I cannot do that. He took control of my friend Laura at Ludwig's keep and she would have killed me if I had not crushed him flat beneath me."

If the druid was really able to do that he would be even more valuable to them.

"But..."

"Where is she anyway? Shouldn't the riders have come back with her by now?"

Lies upon lies upon lies.

"I do not know." He replied. "Maybe she returned east? Her legs would carry her so fast that no horses could ever hope reach her, especially not in these woods."

"Then I will go look for her." She said determinedly.

She made a move to get up but the good Doctore Guiseppe Ontario reminded her of him and his fellow medici by announcing that they were done treating the wounds. After that, Janna took enough time get them off her safely at least. She emptied a few more cases of food and barrels of wine into her mouth before getting up.

Furio sensed that this horrible night was at a sudden end.

"Janna." He called upon her one last time. "Remember me when you meet the people of Horas again. Do not forget our hospitality and kindness."

"I won't." She smiled warmly at him and Furio hoped that it was true. "I'm sorry I almost ate that girl. I promise I won't kill any more of your people. Forgive me, but I must leave now. My friend is out there with no light, alone and scared."

"Then I shall not stop you." Furio replied with a little bow. "Do what you must."

He sighed with relief, glad to be rid of her.

'I have achieved what I could.' He told himself. 'Let wiser men split their minds about the druid.'

"Perhaps I could return for the rest of the food after I found her? She must be hungry." The gargantuan girl said lifting up her strange lantern into the sky.

That was out of the question.

"The hour is late and all these good people are yearning for their beds as must you be." He gave tired reply. "Take with you as much as you will. It is yours."

The food might serve as a reminder of their friendship once the spell wore off too. She took it all along with the screaming horses and oxen, folding her ruined tunic into a bundle to carry it.

"I am glad I met you." She said, giving him a last, warm look.

"So am I." He half-lied. "Let me offer you my deepest apologies for the misunderstanding."

"It was half so bad and you made good on it." She replied smiling. "'Tell you the truth, Laura and I would have eaten all of your friends if their resistance had not been so fierce. It was good you were here. I only grieve for my shirt."

She lifted the blackened bundle in her hand.

"At my size I fear it is irreplaceable."

"I would see about getting you a new one in exchange for the druid?" He offered, sensing one last chance to bring it up.

She laughed in response but shook her head. Her enormous breasts were held by that gargantuan bosom holder she was wearing but her bare skin did not show any goose prickles on account of the night's chill. Maybe she was just too big to be cold.

"Your people could really make a shirt my size?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

They could, Furio thought. It would be expensive and difficult to make and would have to be of the sturdiest sail cloth but it seemed possible. He nodded and gave a shrug.

"Yours are a truly amazing people then." She smiled. "Farewell, Furio. I hope that me meet again."

Furio replied in kind but hoped with every fibre of his body that they would not. When she moved off into the distance he rubbed his tired eyes. He had need of praying and wine. Lots of wine.

"Furio! Furio! Furio the red!" The men chanted when he arrived back at the tower, beating the blunt of their weapons on many a hard surface.

He gave a tired smile. Furio the red. That had a nice ring to it even though it was on account of his bloodied robes and face. He had one of the men hand him a bowl of the sour, watery vintage the soldiers drank and poured it down his dry throat. He felt the warmth and numbness spread immediately in his head and neck. He was exhausted. He would not need much to drink himself to sleep.

Emilio came towards him with swinging steps.

"Put that down, mage." The officer commanded. "The Generalissimo wants words with you."

"Of course." Furio replied bitterly. "Reports have to be made. The Bureaucrats need their due. They shall have it, in the morning."

"No, now." The captain countered sternly. "He is waiting atop."

Furio's jaw dropped: "General Gaius Scalia is here?"

He had seen the man a time or two perched over stacks of maps and parchment but never spoken to him. If Scalia wanted something of the mages he relayed the message to a lower officer who would most likely relay it again before it reached them.

"No, not Scalia." Emilio sniffed. "It would never be prudent for the highest commander to move this close to danger. He sent his second in command though. General Lee."

Furio had never spoken with that one either. Urged on by the officer he climbed the steps to the top of the tower unsure what awaited him. The battlements were empty with the exception of a few sentries. The general sat at a folding table that had not been there before, perched on a folding stool, a stone-clay bottle and two cups before him, eyeing the approaching mage with his small eyes.

He did not look the general's part. Small and thin, Lee wore neither morion nor cuirass nor any other uniform except for his glimmering golden sash. His feet stuck in simple, white bridges laced up to his knee from his wooden sandals. The rest of him was clad in the traditional harnish of Maraskan warriors, overlaying plates of exotic hard-wood. The plates were carved with imagery of Rur and Gror, Furio knew, the two same-gendered demi-gods many Maraskan prayed to for holding the world in balance.

He was a Maraskan exile that had fled his home when the servans of darkness took control of it and joined the Horasian army to recapture the island from their unholy grasp. The man had a reputation of tactical genius, brotherly love for his men and fearsome stamina at drinking. Some said he was drowning his grief over the loss of his home with too much of the horribly reeking, white liquor, but those too were only stories Furio had heard from second hand.

"Sit." The general commanded grimly with a slight slur in his voice.

'Is he drunk?' Furio thought alarmed.

Lee filled the cups to their half with liquid from the bottle.

Furio sat on the folding chair opposite and took the cup. He almost started drinking when the man gave him an unmistakable look.

"To the fallen." The general said grimly, weighing the mage with his eyes before tossing the liquid into a brazier by his side.

The sharp liquor burned with sizzling blue flames upon touching the gleaming coals.

"To the fallen." Furio repeated his words and did the same.

"Now." Lee started darkly, refilling their cups. "Should I hang you or reward you for letting her go?"

Furio's mouth dried up all at once. Hanging? He had not expected this. Lee's eyes narrowed down until they were mere slits.

"I could not keep it up much further, Sir." He started to explain with a raspy voice.

To his surprise, the general smirked.

"My wife swore she'd make a doormat out of me when I left for the front." He grinned sheepishly all of a sudden. "Now imagine my horror when I heard of your giant monster come to do the same. Drink!"

Lee slammed his cup forcefully into Furio's and emptied it all at once. Furio tried to do the same but broke into a fit of coughing half way down to the bottom. The stinking snaps burned horribly everywhere it touched the inside of his mouth all the way down to his belly.

"Hahaha!" The general laughed, slapping his thigh. "You Horasians and your sweet wines! Woman's drink! Sweet wine for sweet love, peace and making babies."

He reached for a platter on a stool beneath the table and offered it to Furio. It was filled with pieces of meat, bone and jelly that someone had hacked to crude cubes with a cleaver.

"Pickled ox-face." He explained. "My favourite."

Furio declined courteously to which Lee only shrugged and snatched up a piece of meat with two wooden sticks that he used like pincers.

"Mhhh." The general made, rolling his eyes in pleasure before spitting a piece of bone to the ground.

Then he refilled both their cups.

"We could not kill her so I tried to make her friendly to us instead." Furio felt the need to explain himself.

He could not place the general's demeanour.

"Aye. That was before you learned of Vengyr though." Lee's eyes narrowed again. "I am confused. I thought your white guild and pious church of Praios used to burn druids and witches at the stake?"

That was true, though Furio had never particularly liked that part of his duties. He felt too ashamed to reply to that. They had almost eradicated the druids and witches of Horas in peace time but now they might have need of them again. It was a hypocritical position to take.

"Drink." Lee said again and Furio forced the liquid down his throat, holding himself better this time though it robbed him of his breath for a few seconds.

He was feeling light-headed already.

"Scalia wants the druid." Lee told him afterwards. "Tell me, Furio the red, is that within your power?"

Furio felt his numbing face darken all on it's own.

"I would not know how. She was particularly unwilling to give him up."

Lee seemed to ponder that for a second, looking at a dead, jellied eyeball he had picked from the platter.

"The pale giant, the mighty druid and one-hundred-meter tall girls." He smirked without raising his eyes. "This war has taken a turn for the weird quite quickly. It always does when you mages are about."

Lee had tried to attack Maraskan with the royal Horasian fleet, but their ventures had turned out almost as bad as Demon Hog if the stories were true.

"Believe me, General." Furio replied. "I had rather it were just men and artillery too."

Lee met his eyes, smirking before throwing the eyeball into his mouth, chewing.

"Drink."

After that cup Furio had trouble sitting upright. He allowed himself a piece of meat, plucking it up with his fingers. It was salty and savoury and soaked up the burning quite nicely but the splinters of bone in it would have made him gag if his throat had not been rendered torpid from the snaps.

"Nice, isn't it?" Lee said spitting splinters of bone to the ground.

He refilled their cups yet again.

"What is it that you want of me?" Furio dared to ask, blunt with liquid courage.

Lee showed a cryptic smile: "Once upon a time there was a drought and Rur said to Gror that they should turn the hungry peoples' iron into silver so that they may buy food. Gror replied to Rur that they should not do that lest they be asked to turn copper into gold."

"Is this a riddle?" The mage asked confused.

He scratched his head where the wound had been and his fingernails returned even bloodier and dirtier than before.

"Drink." Lee raised his cup, smiling. "To Lefleur."

"He was a good man." Furio concurred, the world starting to swim before his eyes.

"The general means to send you out to steal the druid." Lee revealed after downing his cup.

"How would it be done?" Furio asked in bewilderment. "And why me?"

"Who better? You seem the only one capable of it."

"But how?" The mage insisted.

"Copper into gold." The general smiled with an apologetic shrug. "Those are not my orders."

"You are punishing me for having done good." Furio protested drunkenly. "She will not let me have the druid. She will kill me if I try and steal him."

"General Scalia wants you to get the druid by any means necessary." Lee's mouth twisted mischievously all of a sudden. "I want you to get the giantess to fight for us. Both, if you can."

Furio wanted to protest but the words would not align themselves in his mind. He was too drunk to care about the madness of this venture. It was too grotesque as if he could wrap his numbing mind around it.

"Pebbles into diamonds." He heard himself mumble instead and took up the cup all on his own.

"I can see that you understand." Lee smiled his condolence and met his cup to a silent toast at last.

For the rest of the night, Furio drowned his bitterness at the bottom of the stone-clay bottle until he could no longer feel his own face.