The fall was something Furio did not care to partake in ever again. It had neither killed nor injured him or his trusty assistant, but both of them had very much feared for their lives whilst they were racing towards the ground in Janna's gargantuan hand. The hand had slipped down but the fingers had been curled and it had been them that the two tiny men had tumbled into. In falling down, the hand had turned, cushioning the fall. It was an exceedingly lucky happen-stance.

For all Furio knew, they might as well have ended up beneath Janna and been crushed to paste like so many others before them. They might have fallen off and to their deaths. The fall wasn't the end of it though. Starved beyond care, the smaller yet equally fearsome titaness Laura had seemingly forgotten all about them. She might have crushed them as well, by lack of care, or eaten both of them on account of her hunger.

Instead she had hugged Janna's chest and draped the unnaturally huge blanket over their gargantuan bodies, cloaking Furio and Graham in darkness beneath. It had been dark anyway, Furio reflected, there had barely been anything to be seen.

It had been Graham to take Furio by a hand and lead him through the tunnel in between Janna's and Laura's legs, under the one Laura had draped over her companion, and towards their feet. The scent of death and decay still clung to both pairs of the giant footwear, Laura's in particular. Laura's shoes had threads underneath, not unlike the short nails men liked to attach to the bottoms of their boots so as to have a surer hold on the ground. Laura's looked different than that to be sure, but served the same purpose. Whatever the humongous young woman stepped on became wedged in between those threads and judging by the smell there were still pieces of people crushed in there, mingled with dirt, even though Laura hadn't stepped on any unfortunate soul in days.

“Master, should we seek shelter?” Graham had asked in that mumbled, boyish voice of his.

But Furio was too tired and hungry himself to do anything once they had dragged themselves a reasonably safe distance away from Laura. He had wanted to sleep then and there, but no sooner had he closed his eyes for a moment that he felt someone press a dirk to his throat.

“Who are you?” The voice had asked, whispering.

The shape of the man was invisible against the starlight sky. Graham was still beside Furio on the ground, the dirk-wielding man had seven companions. Furio ought to have been scared, and yet he wasn't. He had seen too much, escaped death too narrowly earlier.

“I am Master Furio Montane, battle-mage of the Horasian army by the pleasure of his royal magnificence Horasio the third.”

His voice was weak and hoarse. It sounded strange even to himself. He knew he didn't look the mage. He must have looked gaunt and sickly, filthy for lack of washing. His hair had grown over his eyes and was a matted tangle of knots. He wore a thick padded jacked of sealskin, a sheepskin cloak and fur-lined britches. The clothes kept him warm, but they must have made him look like a Thorwaller. Perhaps this was a Thorwaller holding a dirk to his throat, he reflected, and it would have been wiser to find that out first. But what was said could not be made unsaid easily.

“Who is your companion?”

Graham stirred next to him but did not speak.

“My assistant.” Furio said. “Graham Runecarver.”

Runecarver was not the lad's last name. Furio had never thought to inquire if the lad a last name. But if these were Thorwallers perhaps they would spare him and take him thrall because they liked the ring of it. If these were friendly folk they would spare the lad because he was Furio's assistant. Furio owed him that much at least. The trusty young man had even saved Furio's parchments and utensils after the fall, or so many as he could find in the darkness.

The dirk went away and the man rose: “My name is Andon Patchcloak. You are with friends, milord mage.”

They were scouts, posted to the ruins of Salza to keep an eye on the river as it turned out. The Thorwallers had all gone south and caused destruction, raiding villages and killing anyone they could get their hands on, or so the scouts had them know. They took the two starving men with them and carried them to their hideout inside the city walls.

A single torch lit the way. Salza was all ashes and charred timbers by what could be seen but the city walls were still intact. Besides Andon Patchcloak the scouts were solemn, brooding men, no doubt as per their occupation.

“All we have is some wine and poor food.” The talkative scout apologized with a tooth-gapped smile. “Would you like your bread stale and dry or worm-eaten? We have apples, but the choice is only worms there. There's no worms in the fish, but that's dry again, hehe.”

To Furio it was all a feast, the sour wine especially. On this an empty stomach it had him almost drunk after two swallows. Graham wolfed down a heel of bread and a rotten apple, took a long hard drink from the wineskin and fell over asleep.

There were Nostrians and Horasians among the scout party. One of the Horasians had already made off on his horse to ride to the capital and bring word. The scouts were good men, experienced.

“Oh, we saw the look of hunger in those eyes by the starlight.” Patchcloak confided. “Made us all glad we didn't light the fire.”

“They need to be fed!” Furio almost choked on the wine. “Sooner rather than later!”

“Reckoned that.” The scout put his lower lip into one of the gaps in his mouth and frowned. “We'll bind our horses on poles where they can find them. Heard they eat anything. Best we stay here till there's wagons. Wouldn't want to look tasty when those two wake up, hehehe.”

“Very prudent.” Furio recognized full of astonishment. It was all right. The story of the coachmen must have spread, or else stories out of Thorwal or Andergast. It was only natural. There was no making a secret of two giantesses this huge and destructive. And scouts had to be prudent men or else they weren't scouts for long. He wondered if they had believed the stories from the beginning or if they had only realized the truth of them when Janna's and Laura's footsteps had shaken the earth and a giantess had peered into their city, looking to make them her meal.

“Best you sleep now.” Patchcloak went on, softly taking the wineskin from Furio's fingers. “We'll see from the walls. I'll wake you if anything's moving.”

Furio was immensely thankful for it. And he slept, though it was a restless one. He had three dreams in quick succession, waking from each bathed in sweat, blinking his eyes a few times against the darkness before falling back again. The first was of Rondria and her death, her head on the ground, her lifeless body before and after Janna accidentally stepped on it. The second was of Furio's own death, Thorgun Swafnirson before him, but when he extended his fingers only a puff of smoke came out and he woke, right before the axe crashed into his face.

The third dream was of Laura's mouth. Pearly white the rows of giant teeth shun inside the pink, wet cave. On the molars, two men could almost lie abreast. The tongue was like the tail of an immense fish, strong, slimy and wet. The sounds of saliva pooling where all around him when he lay upon it. He saw Graham's hand grasping air next to a huge tonsil before vanishing into the abyss of her throat. He could hear her breathing, a mighty wind that carried the screams of the countless digested below. Then suddenly her mouth was full of people. Men, women, children in Thorwalsh garb sat begging for their lives on the giant tongue. Some tried to make it out but the rows of all-powerful teeth closed before them.

Then Laura swallowed and they all were gone, leaving only Furio, bound by hand and foot.

“Let's just eat him.” Her hunger-pained voice thundered from everywhere at once.

Her teeth snapped shut again and it was darkness, and the damp wetness of her throat after that. When suddenly there was light again he saw a different mouth, broad, thin lipped, foul and with yellowed teeth in there not as numerous as once they had been.

“Wagons, milord.” The mouth smiled. Furio was awake.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found that he was completely drenched with sweat. It clung to him just like Laura's spittle had. He fought with his cloak and then his jacked to get out of it. The air was cool but he had worn these clothes for so long that there were all sorts of pests living in them he did not care to share a shell with any longer.

“Master.” Graham bowed.

The lad stood at attention like a soldier, heels together, back straight. The look in his eyes was weary and there were dark rings under them but under one arm he carried the remainder of Furio's belongings and a heel of bread under the other. The wineskin was in his grasp and Furio took it, drinking healthily before downing a few mouths full of bread with it's help.

“Maraskans, master.” The lad ushered him on as did the man Patchcloak who seemed happy beside himself.

They climbed the nearby wall-walk together onto the parapets and Furio could see the approaching force. More than two dozen wagons of gigantic proportions they had. Some even had three or four axles instead of two and were drawn by multiple monstrous cold-bloods, hooves as large as a man's head. The horses of the Maraskan auxiliary were smaller, swifter, more manoeuvrable but fine animals, Elvinas of Horasian breed.

Two other scouts stood on the battlements, each waving a surcoat bound to a pole. Furio saw the golden eagle of Horas on it's green field and next to it the white flatfish on blue for Nostria. As full as it was in splendour for the eye it was all eerily devoid of sound. A whip cracked somewhere in the distance, the wagons rumbled and horses neighed, their hooves thundering. But from the Maraskan soldiers or the waggoners came only solemn silence.

At the tip of the long column rode a man dressed in blood spattered britches that once had been white, a suit of armour made of carved, dark hardwood and a black steel helm that caught the sunlight. It was none other than General Lee.

“Incredible.” Patchcloak observed in admiration. “It's not even noon yet.”

Furio spun to look at the giant girls. If they were awake and misunderstood this they could kill everybody. Perhaps even if they understood they would kill everybody, eating the soldiers that had arrived to save them. But Janna and Laura were fast asleep just as they had left them. A few dozen meters from their giant heads, horses were bound to a pole in the ground, grazing peacefully.

Furio raced down the wall and out of Salza through the gate. There were blackened skeletons everywhere, hundreds of them. So much death. It was at a time for some end to that. Graham hurried after him in surprise.

When Lee saw them he held up his fist and the procession came to a rattling halt. He took off his helm and Furio saw the Maraskan's face. It was full of joy.

He turned to his men: “A trice hip-hip-hooray for the great Master Furio! Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

Then he barked a few brisk commands and his men screamed “Hai!” in unison ere they dismounted.

Furio waved his hands frantically.

“Don't make so much noise!”

Lee only laughed. He had the horses led aside so that the wagons could roll on to where Janna and Laura were sleeping. Furio turned to look at them again, fearing that they had heard and woken but the starving monsters were still deep in blissful slumber. They were weak, very weak by now. They had walked for so long that perhaps it would be more difficult to wake them than not to.

Lee's white, exemplary steed was led by a young officer when the general came towards Furio. His force had seen battle, that much was clear, showing dents and scratches on armour, some arms in slings and hobbling feet. Lee had a slight dent in his own helm and a long scratch in the wood of his chest plates. Nonetheless the man seemed unchanged, perhaps even happier than before.

Much as before he crushed Furio in a bearish hug.

“My friend!” He said. “I am so glad to find you living!”

“My lord general.” Furio cleared his throat. “We must get the giantesses fed!”

“Ha! All duty! Good! First we must get you fed, it seems to me. You are barely skin and bone!”

Lee turned to the officer leading his steed: “Feishan, my gifts!”

The young man had had his head bowed and looked at the ground as Maraskan's most often did when amongst higher ranks of people. Now he looked up and nodded fiercely, turned on his heel and started rummaging through Lee's saddle bags.

He came over with two leather pouches, bowed and offered them to Furio.

“Great Beast-master!” He told the ground below. “It is an honour to give these gifts to you!”

Lee gave him a hard and disapproving look and then a soft and forgiving one.

“Forgive my boy.” He apologized. “He is rash and eager. Feishan is my eldest now after my Wudong was slain against the Thorwalsh on our way here.”

“I'm very sorry to hear that.” Furio offered distraught.

Lee laughed as though he had made a jape and motioned for Furio to accept the offerings.

“Fine Stoerrebrandt.” He said when Furio opened the first one, finding a wealth of black-brown pipe-weed and a beautifully long, slender pipe to smoke it in.

“A pipe is exactly what I need now. Thank you.” Furio managed awkwardly.

Lee seemed very happy: “In the other bag is wind dried beef of the finest quality. Best boiled, though you can eat it now too.”

He seemed to expect that Furio do that and so he did. It was very dry and stringy and soaked up all juice left in his mouth but the taste was not to scorn by any means.

“I thought something without splinters of bone might please you.” Lee grinned. “Oh, where are my manners.”

From beneath his wooden plates he produced a small leather field-bottle and Furio took it knowing what it was.

“A toast?” The general looked at him expectingly.

“To the fallen!” Furio croaked through the meat and Lee smiled again. Somehow, with the dry beef in his mouth the liquor tasted wonderful all of a sudden.

Not forgetful of his friends, Furio gave the bottle to Graham who took a swallow and fell into such a fit of coughing that he almost dropped Furio's belongings. After that, Furio offered the bottle to the Maraskan officer that was Lee's son.

“A great honour.” Lee nodded approvingly before Feishan dared to grasp it and drink.

Apparently it was all part of some Maraskanic ritual, gravely important. The general took the bottle after that and finally drank himself before giving it back to Furio.

“You have acquired a taste already I see.” Lee observed when Furio filled his mouth with wind-dried beef and downed it with the sharp, stinging liquor.

The drink filled him with such a wonderful feeling of courage then that it seemed childish to think back at how afraid he had been. Suddenly Feishan was on the ground, kneeling over steel, flint and tinder.

“Son, don't be a fool.” Lee said sharply. “Master Furio is a mage. He can conjure a flame with his fingers.”

“Er, I'll gladly take your fire.” Furio said quickly, fumbling with the pouch to fill his pipe.

The general's narrow eyes narrowed even more, just a hint. Furio wondered when it would come out that he had lost his powers. That was something he was still afraid of, even now. It would mean that he lost his station, in army as well as society. He could no longer be part of the Order of the White Pentagram. As a means to reinvent himself he had picked up writing with Graham's help, trying to become a scholar. He still had Janna's trust and friendship, but now that both Nostrians and Horasians were about it was possible that some day he was replaced in that capacity, perhaps by a mage that could still do magic.

Lee took the burning tinder from his son and offered it to Furio himself. That also seemed an important gesture somehow, the deliverance of fire. The pleasant smoke filled his lungs at once, but he had not had a pipe in a while and his throat was still raw. He coughed mightily but continued sucking on the pipe nonetheless. It was exquisite tobacco.

“Did you catch a chill?” Lee asked, worried.

“Perhaps.” Furio allowed. “I wore the same clothes for too long and I was sweating in the night, cold.”

The general gestured to his son and Feishan came on with Lee's splendid cloak in Horasian colours. He draped it over the mage protectively, but his eyes were still narrowed.

“Funny.” He observed. “All you mages seem to be falling ill, as of late. Many of your esteemed colleagues have recused themselves from the front lines, citing reasons of illness. Family matters seem in overabundance as well.”

Furio met his gaze, searching, smoke pouring from his mouth ere he exhaled. Could all magic have stopped to work at once? That would be a most alarming development with implications so huge that they were hard to fathom. Had he still had his staff he might have tried breaking it to get some sense of confirmation but he had lost it somewhere and didn't even remember how it happened. It was odd. Before, the staff had been a part of him, always with him, never far.

“Master Hypperio is still with command.” Lee spoke softly. “Perhaps you should speak to him when you go there to receive further orders.”

“Yes.” Furio croaked at once.

-

Laura dreamt of Pizza Hut. She and Janna were sitting in a booth in the restaurant off campus, a fresh steaming pie on the table between them. On the pizza was bacon, ham, peppers and so much cheese that the oil was swimming on the top. The crust was stuffed with more cheese, like tiny dough cups, one mozzarella, one yellow cheese with the tail of a shrimp sticking out of it. Only it wasn't a shrimp but a tiny naked person, alive and clawing futilely at the sticky substance.

“Mhh.” Janna made, eyeing the feast.

She took a slice with three cheese cups at the end, one mozzarella and two people. She brought one of those into her mouth first, biting it off along with it's tiny passenger. Then she chewed, blissfully rolling her eyes. Fat ran down from the corner of her mouth and onto her huge naked tits. Laura wanted nothing more than to lick it off but that would be awkward in a restaurant. It seemed strange that Janna would choose to go naked in the first place but Laura was too hungry to care.

She took a slice herself. It was gargantuan and heavy. Beholding it made her so sublimely happy that it brought tears to her eyes. The two tinies in their cheese prisons were crying too. Laura would save them for last. They could watch her consume the slice bite for bite, knowing that every time their end as becoming her little shrimps came closer.

But when she bit into the cheese-dripping tip of the slice there was no taste. When she swallowed, nothing travelled down her throat. On the next bite she couldn't even feel it in her mouth any more and then all was gone, the restaurant, the pizza, the tiny people and Janna, all. It felt as though she had fallen to the ground when she blinked and the world was all different and strange. Janna lay beside her, under her, face down under the same blanket.

Laura's belly felt as though someone had taken a knife, carved it out and tossed it in the trash. She felt like trash, all achy and in pain. When she was little, it had been common wisdom that it was impossible to feel pain while asleep. Laura had learned that that was a lie the first time she had dreamed of food. She remembered that she was starving in the real world but this was still another food dream.

She'd much prefer pizza now over Asian food but apparently her subconscious had decided it was Chinese on the menu now. The dream was different than the one before. She wasn't in a restaurant, nor on earth, but on Saturn Seven. That at least made it a whole lot more realistic. A tiny army of Chinamen stood before her face, ancient looking like some documentary. They wore shiny steel, making for bad food. At least her brain might have had allowed her to dream of eating men without the nasty tinfoil.

“She is awake!” Someone called and the whole crew went down on one knee, bowing.

There were normal people as well, bowing with them.

'And by normal you mean to say white people of European heritage.' She could almost hear her horrible professors lecture.

Her impulse was to reach out, grab one and eat him but she felt like she couldn't face the crushing disappointment of her previous dream again. Perhaps if she only looked at her morsels the hunger would go away. Maybe that way she could gather some strength when she was awoken roughly by Janna's hand before they had to face another hungry march towards something edible. Perhaps she wouldn't wake, she remembered her last thought before sleeping. Maybe this was her last dream before dying. She didn't want to die, and not this hungry to begin with.

“Here ya go lassie!” One of two men carrying a huge, open cask called to her.

Pieces of meat swam on top of the broth inside, along with hard chunks and huge eyes of white, congealed fat. Her mouth watered, unable to decide if she'd rather eat the cask or the men carrying it. There were huge wagons, as large as tiny toy trucks.

“Laura!” Furio's voice called to her.

Then she saw him, gaunt and bare-chested, wrapped in a swirling green cloak. He came next to Graham and another Chinese guy who looked like a Samurai.

'No, no, no! Samurai are Japanese you ignorant white woman!' The tedious social studies professor scolded in her mind.

Laura blinked her eyes and shook her head, finding that she had been awake the whole time. The water in her mouth was real, her hunger was real and most importantly of all the food was real. She reached for a tiny man without armour but hesitated. They were in Nostria now, these people were clearly trying to give her food and if she ate them, perhaps they'd try to run away. She was in no mood to go after them. For a moment it had felt like the most natural thing wanting to eat these people, as many as she could and then crush the rest. But with every passing heartbeat her brain grew more awake and she knew that she shouldn't do it.

She reached for the opened cask instead, finding that there were more of them. The content was some kind of cold meat soup to her knowledge, but she had been close to trying to eat trees before, so it was fine. It wasn't pizza, but on Saturn Seven there was no pizza.

She took another cask and poured it into her mouth, pickled meat in some sort of gravy.

“Janna.” She shook her friend with a hand. “Janna, there's food.”

It was unusual for Laura to wake before Janna. Had Laura not seen her breathing it would have been troubling.

“Urgh!” Janna half sighed, half cried into the ground.

Laura escaped a hollow laugh: “Janna, wake up, there really is food!”

It was almost unreal. Another cask, sour vegetables tasting like sauerkraut.

“Janna!” Furio called now.

The little, half-naked mage was frantic and worried, Laura could tell. Janna sighed again in her sleep and pushed herself on her back, smacking her lips, eyes still as shut as a safe.

“Laura!” Furio came rushing. “We have brought food! You must not eat anyone!”

A strange, evil idea came to Laura then. Perhaps she was overwhelmed with happiness now that there was something to eat at last. She didn't know why, but she was giddy. She plucked Furio off the ground with her fingers and the tiny people gasped in horror.

The tiny man clung to her index finger like a little frog when she held him over Janna's mouth.

“Laura, no! Please!” He begged her, realizing what her plan was.

“She'll eat you if I drop you.” She whispered and he looked down to see Janna licking her lips, probably dreaming of food just like Laura had. “Your big friend will digest you herself. Do you think she will try to cough you up when I tell her? When do you think I'll tell her?”

She grinned, so marvellously happy with herself. It was such a fine opportunity that it would be a shame to let it pass, even though Janna would absolutely hate her guts for it.

“Should I eat Graham myself or feed him to Janna too?”

She spotted the tiny man in the crowd just as he dropped everything he was carrying.

“Janna, wake up!” Furio called suddenly. “Janna! Please, wake up!”

Laura bit her lip spitefully and opened her fingers. He didn't fall, still clinging to her index finger like a little baby hamster. She shook, once, twice, but she couldn't do it too hard or else he'd fly off and not hit Janna's mouth. Janna would only unwittingly eat him if he hit her mouth, if at all. It was by no means a certainty. Janna was sleeping.

But now, she was waking up, sighing again, starting to stretch.

“What is it?”

Her stretching hand came up against one of the wagons and toppled it over, some people screaming and running in terror. None of the tiny Chinamen though, standing in spaced rank and file, eyes lowered.

Laura closed Furio in her first and brought it to her mouth. She could crush him in it. She could suck him out and send him into her belly, but none of that would be as much fun and Janna would be almost just as wroth.

Laura whispered into her fingers: “One word to her about this and you and Graham enter my guts from the wrong end.”

She had never done that to anybody yet, she noted. Perhaps she should try. It sounded like a funny, humiliating idea. The tiny mage was struggling in her fist. She put him back on the ground after a little squeeze to drive the message home.

“Janna, wake up before I put people in my ass.” She said in English, laughing.

Janna rose with a massive, unseemly belch that rattled her tits beneath the shirt. She must have swallowed air in her sleep, she was so hungry. Both of them had slept with all their clothes on, bras, even shoes. It didn't feel comfortable, but that was not very important now that there was food.

“ 'the fuck's wrong with you.” Janna rubbed her face.

“You're scaring them all away, you moron.” Laura gestured at the tiny, three-centimetre-tall crowd.

It wasn't really true. There were perhaps a dozen runners and the rest, more than two hundred, remained where they were.

“Who?” Janna had to turn her head to see them.

Two minutes later she was crushing entire barrels, casks and chests in between her teeth, never caring of the wood or mangled iron bands she swallowed. Some tiny Chinamen climbed their horses and drove the fleeing people back. They were called Maraskans and their leader was General Lee. The waggoners without armour were Nostrians or Horasians but if there was a difference to spot Laura didn't really see it yet.

The horses of the soldiers were herded at a distance and looked after by some men. The draft horses were food, though they were huge, beautiful animals. Their shoulder height was higher than some of the tiny men stood and so it was quite a task to calm the beasts when they got it into their heads that now was a good time to get spooked again. It usually occurred every time Janna or Laura grabbed for one of them, pried the creature loose from it's wagon and crunched it in between their teeth. It was a good thing the horses had blinders over their eyes or else they might have gone terrified all at once and trampled some people.

Laura's little, evil joke had Furio messed up quite badly, but Janna was too occupied to notice. Graham was by the mage's side as he sat on a tiny cask, as was the little slit-eyed general. The way Furio clutched his chest had Laura worried. Janna all but loved the guy and he was quite useful sometimes. On the other hand it was annoying to always have him around. There was no privacy. Not that Laura and Janna cared much. They had loved each other, squashed and eaten people, pissed and shat all somewhat in his presence. But somehow Laura felt she wanted more of Janna to herself. It wasn't so much envy as wanting it just to be the two of them, no third, tiny wheel.

Graham she somehow didn't mind so much. The boy never made his presence felt like Furio did and his reactions were commonly priceless when Laura tortured him with taunts. General Lee on the other hand was very much of the flamboyant variety and it seemed to fall to him now to keep Janna and her entertained. He was all smiles.

“Is the food to your taste?” He asked.

Janna nodded. Her mouth was so full with five tiny horses at once that she couldn't speak. Her mighty jaw squelched the screaming beasts and broke their thick, hard bones as if they were nothing, though it was a somewhat noisy affair and took longer than pulping people.

“It's alright.” Laura had him know. She could speak like a local when she wanted to, but most often she just used her own style of speaking, more lazy, as she pleased. She just said what she would have said in English using the local words. Janna couldn't do that as well as she could. It was Laura's way of letting tiny folk know that she didn't really care about them. It was all fair game in her opinion. They were bugs to her, most of them anyway.

“Mh.” Janna swallowed hard. “Thank you so much for this food my little lord general, it is most pleasing.”

Well, it was food and true enough it wasn't half bad. The pickled stuff was either very salty or very sour though. Pickled or jellied fruit were delicious, sweet, tropical somehow. It was something that hadn't touched Laura's pallet in a while. Horse meat was horse meat, red, bloody and rich. There was a lot of meat on the creatures and that made it worthwhile eating them but it wasn't exactly the definition of a culinary delight. With food entering her belly Laura already felt much better. Her tummy hurt only a little now.

“All right.” Lee stemmed his hands into his chest. “It passes for food, you mean to say. We think alike!”

He gestured and two Maraskan soldiers brought forth a small cask, cracked the lid open and stepped back respectfully. Laura could only see a black, dark red swirl. A really large cask for the tiny people was like a thimble to her and Janna. This was much less.

“A delicacy, is it?” Laura asked. She thought to see tiny white specks on what seemed to be meat, but there was no way to be sure. The white things might have been sesame seeds, nuts or maggots, far too small for her eyes.

“A Maraskan variety of beef!” The general declared. “Something to give your tongues a taste of my homeland!”

They brought a second cask and cracked it open as well so Janna and Laura could both get a taste. It was hard grabbing the cask, barely twice larger than a pinhead.

“Stop.” Janna said suddenly.

There was a hint of mistrust in her eyes and Laura felt what she meant. It seemed somewhat odd, the two special casks with the queer hard to identify contents.

Little Lee seemed to see it as well.

“It is good!” He swore, though somewhat astute.

Laura put the cask back down: “Is it poison?”

She'd have the tiny general eat a healthy mouthful of it and if it was she'd make a harvest of all his tiny men.

“Poison?!” He looked gravely insulted for a moment but then seemed to reconsider. With pinched fingers he drew a tiny, black object from her cask and ate it. Laura tried to make sure he swallowed but it was hard to see.

“Ahh!” He made, hissing, blissfully rubbing his armoured belly for show.

Curiosity won over caution. Something this tiny would have a hard time killing her anyway, Laura decided. She picked up the container and poured it's contents onto her tongue. For a split second there was the most heavenly taste ever. The next moment, her tongue was all aflame. It felt like eating raw fire.

“Ahh!” She hissed, much like Lee had, stretching out her tongue but the burning sensation wouldn't go away.

“Is it acid?” Janna asked aghast.

It might have been what acid felt like. Laura wasn't sure.

“It's hot!” She mumbled with half her tongue hanging out.

Lee corrected with a laugh: “Spicy, you mean!”

Then Janna laughed too and that was the sweetest thing in days, sweeter than all jellied fruit even.

Lee was all grins: “Ah, you learn to love it, after a while. It is spicy but isn't that taste something?”

“Mhm mh.” Laura agreed, rubbing the burning part of her tongue against her teeth.

After another short while there was a numbing sensation, like after a dentist visit.

“This is the queerest beef I ever ate.” She proclaimed sceptically. It had been so little that it all but vanished on her tongue, except for the burning. That tiniest moment of the taste had her want more despite of all, however.

“Want mine?” Janna clearly wanted nothing to do with this.

And strangely, Laura ate and even gave the other stuff more consideration after that. It was a welcome pastime, a welcome change after Thorwal, the march, more than one week of eating only people and the starvation after that. Janna hadn't lied about the Horasians. They were resourceful. They had brought so many wagons that it was enough for both of them with the draft animals. By the end of it they would be complete and properly filled.

“If it please you, I would some day like to show my homeland to you!” The minuscule general mentioned from a cask he had climbed.

Sure, some day, Laura thought, though that was hard to say. So much could happen in the meantime. Now that food was out of the way...

“Now that you are fed we must needs speak to high command and learn how to proceed!” Furio spoke Laura's thoughts loudly and finished them for her. His face was still a grimace and he seemed to hobble a little when he walked but by now he had caught himself.

“Of course.” Janna agreed dutifully. “Work for food.”

“I think we are owed a little time off.” Laura frowned. “We have walked long and far and smushed many of your tiny enemies. Thorwal is void of people, from here all the way up to Olport, ask Furio about it.”

The tiny mage gave a short, grave nod to the general who turned back to Laura.

“I know a few men that will rejoice to hear that!” His grin wasn't even so much as flickering. “But it is also high command, and thereby our esteemed General Scalia, that decides these matters.”

“Are you not a general?” Laura shot at him, challenging though calmly.

He grew apologetic: “My position in this army is not without ambiguity, I fear. Sometimes I am the great general, right hand to the highest man in the army. Other times I am but commander of these Maraskan auxiliaries, freak leader to a band of freaks on the wrong side of the world.”

The honesty even seemed to shock tiny Furio.

Janna re-entered the conversation, now seemingly harbouring doubts herself: “And in what capacity is it that you are you here now?”

Lee shrugged: “We were at the capital, loading supplies for the front when we heard you were in hunger and peril. We came fast as we could, nothing but food on our drafts, no foxy schemes, not even an idea on how to go from here.”

Laura chuckled involuntarily. The tiny samurai was easily likeable like that.

“So, what, we have to go to General Scalia to ask where we may stretch our legs?” She asked.

Her bra was itching uncomfortably and she went to undo it. To her understanding any little guy presuming to tell her anything should better come to her to do so.

“I don't feel like walking either.” Janna added quickly. “We must a have at least one day's rest.”

“And secrecy is a fools quest now.” Furio settled his two cents on top.

They were all clueless, plan-less, Laura realized. Janna turned back to eating on the side.

“We could arrange for another wagon convoy here.” Lee said thoughtfully and with a painful look at the empty wagons, missing their draft animals.

Then he looked all around from the elevated height of his cask: “Do you want to stay here?”

Laura took a good look around as well. Some fields were there, empty. Some burned sheds and what might have been houses once. The Nostrian city beside them was only walls with more ashes inside. The weather was passable enough, but other than that it was pretty bleak.

Her bra finally came loose under her shirt and she pulled it out, much to the delight of her raw nipples. It was only then that it all fell in on her, how tired and done she was in truth. So what if this place was bleak. There was water from the river nearby. She could even still see the sea in the distance behind some other blackened city. If the tiny bugs and their bug general brought more food then she would stay here.

“God, could you leave those on?!” Janna swore suddenly when Laura pulled off her sneakers.

The smell was horrifying after such long a walk and they had never stopped to wash their socks. Laura's had been pink once, still were but in places at the bottom in particular they were black with dust and dirt and the remnants of pulverized Thorwallers she had thrown into her shoes. Her feet did not smell any better after the socks were gone.

Tiny men before her caught the sent and turned. Some started gagging. For some reason it seemed to even worse for them than for her.

“Fuck!” Janna turned away in disgust as well.

Laura chuckled, thinking of the horrors her tiny toe slaves must have gone through on the march. That gave her another mischievous idea. She wriggled her toes and struck them forward towards the small army of tiny men. They edged back, all, even Lee and his hard-bitten Maraskans.

“I won't walk another step on these feet.” She declared, grinning apologetically.

Janna met her eyes, showing grudging understanding. At Olport Janna had walked sock-foot and crushed people, houses and whatnot. As a result, her socks were even blacker than Laura's, having been white once. There were corpses crushed deep into hers as well. Her feet smelled even worse too when she pulled her boots off.

“We shouldn't have slept with our shoes on.” She noted with a wrinkle of her nose.

Laura knew that was the least of it. Janna massaged her soles with her hands and sighed. Then she took her bra off as well. They were settling.

“It's going to have to be more wagons.” Janna told Lee with a empathetic frown. “I can't thank you enough for all this food, but we need more for the next time we get hungry again.”

It was one filling meal for both of them. Not more, not less. The food problem followed them everywhere unless they were being genocidal.

“Food was promised!” Lee agreed, shouting against the hand before his mouth. “Food you shall have!”

“Gosh, we're filthy.” Janna sprawled on the blanket after they had laid it out. “And I feel like crap.”

“At least we're not hungry any more.” Laura crawled beside her.

Lee's riders were on their way and troops were sent out to secure the route against ambushers. They had eaten every last bit of food, every draft animal though not even one tiny person. The night vision thingy had run all night and the batteries were dead. They only had the lantern left now when they would need it the next time against the darkness.

They called to hell with timid decency and stripped off their earthy jeans and sweaty t-shirts. If the tiny men enjoyed the view of their tits they showed no sign of it. There was only a small number left anyway.

“We should have never left the fucking Erlenmeyer flask.” Janna said completely out of the blue. “We could have taken people at Waskir and would have had enough to eat in those mountains.”

The Erlenmeyer flask was somewhere west of Prem now.

“People need water and food too, they would have shat everywhere in that thing and we never knew the god damn villages after the last city would be so small.” Laura replied. “Graham's map didn't show that. There were a lot of things we could have done better in hindsight. But so what, we're alive.”

“I don't feel very alive.” Janna chuckled sorrowfully, stretching her muscles. “We should go wash in the river. I smell like a dog and even you stink.”

Laura gave a grin: “Can we have the tiny people lick the stink off our feet?”

Janna did smile at the joke but said what she had to: “No, I think it would kill them.”

“You're right.”

They both grinned.

“But seriously.” Janna said after a moment. “Next time I'm going to take some people with me. I'll water them, I don't care. They can starve until I eat them.”

Next time, Laura thought, wondering when that would be. She imagined being in a giant glass container, carried by Janna's giant hand. People cowered together when they weren't shaken left and right by her uncaring movements. When she drank from a river or stream she would dribble some water inside with her fingers and her prisoners would lap it off the glass floor. Then, every now and then, she'd lift the container to her face and peer inside, and her food knew that it was time again.

The bottle was tilted towards her mouth and people slipped, trying desperately to claw for somewhere to hold on. But there was nothing. When the bottle tilted back again, so many of them were gone, in Janna's mouth that they could watch through the glass, chewing. Her swallow was followed by a burp that echoed horribly in the material of the container. It vibrated with the force of it.

“Laura, wake up.” Janna's hand was beating on Laura's chest.

Her eyes opened. It was dark all of a sudden.

“Did I sleep?” She heard herself mumble, barely comprehensive.

She was hot, burning almost as though she had a fever. Her body was snug beneath the blanket, tugged in with much love and consideration for her good rest. Janna must have draped it over her when she had drifted away suddenly, Laura figured. Still, sleeping in the day had her wake especially sore now. She felt even worse than before but she knew that feeling would fade eventually.

The sun was behind the horizon and it's last rays were just licking at the singular clouds above. Below it was hard to see anything other than shapes. The one thing that stood out when she looked about was a river of fire, slowly making it's way down where the road had been.

She rubbed her eyes and peered again: “Torches!”

But how many of them. So many! It didn't look like there was an end to them, only far, far off in the distance.

“Did you sleep too?” She asked.

Janna shook she shape of her head: “Lee thought it may be a nice gesture if I cleared Salza of the rubble so that they might have an easier time rebuilding. Also I didn't want to fuck up my rhythm.”

Laura imagined going right back to sleep now. Nothing would be easier.

“Have no fear on that count.” She scoffed in perfect local tongue with Andergastian accent. “Did you really clear it all out?”

She couldn't see anything inside the walls in the darkness, even if she tried.

“I just stepped on everything.” Janna told the story. “Then Furio was cross because there was still corpses in there they could have buried with all rites and stuff. Well, they can scratch them out of the ashes, I don't care.”

Laura swallowed. Her throat was raw and she needed a drink. Janna should have slept a little like she had. She was audibly exhausted and in a sour mood.

“Who do you think is coming there?”

“I don't know.” Janna's shape shrugged. “Lee says it's a little early for food. They're on the city walls, all of them, lighting signal fires.”

Laura turned: “They're not very successful.”

A single torch was burning behind a tower from her view but she only saw that now.

Janna laughed bitterly: “Yeah, they only thought about the need for firewood after I flattened everything. Doesn't matter. Here.”

With a click the lantern came on, shining it's bright, unnatural light all around.

“We gotta see who's coming there.” Janna went on. “If it's Thorwallers we'll have to flatten them.”

“Kay.” Laura made indifferently. Sure, squash a few more Thorwallers, why not. “They've got horses though. I think it's someone else.”

Janna's eyes narrowed which made her look hideous on account of the dark rings beneath them: “You're right.”

They could do nothing but sit on their blanket in silence, watching the eerily long procession come closer. Well, they might have done all manner of other things, but they didn't. When finally the light shun onto the first riders she saw that they were not Thorwalsh at all. This she determined by the fact that they looked not like Vikings but medieval stuff, men in long blue shirts with long blue shields, carrying spears. There were armoured people as well.

“Blue is Nostria.” Janna explained, answering the question as it formed in Laura's sleepy head. “Let's keep a low profile.”

She rolled her eyes in the next instant even before Laura snorted with laughter and fell into a fit of evil giggling over the poor choice of words. That was the scene to which the Nostrians arrived. Likely it made the distance at which they assembled a little larger.

There were lot's of riders but after a while even men on foot arrived. Lee, Furio and Graham came storming out of the city to greet them.

“Oh look.” Janna made tiredly. “Important people.”

And important they were by the looks of them, though they were only four. They had fine horses, that was plain just by looking at them. Three wore chain mail over and over, metal rings interlinked to defeat blows and cuts against their bodies. One even seemed to have a mail hood of sorts but Laura didn't know if that was better or worse than the visor-less helmets the others wore. One horse wore a dress of blue and white, it's rider metal elbow and shin guards and on his helm there was a golden ring with spikes, shimmering in the light. It was a crown.

Lee, Furio and Graham all knelt before the man, eyes to the ground, then rose and exchanged a few words. Led on by the three men on foot, the four men of import finally made their approach after some more nattering.

One rider bore a lance with a banner, blue as well, fringed in white and with a flat, white fish on it. It was the same as on most of the surcoats and shields.

He spoke loudly: “His grace, King Andarion the Second of Nostria!”

“Kneel.” Janna whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Laura didn't exactly know how, but she did her best. Kneeling she was taller than sitting on her butt, and either way way larger than this tiny king.

King Andarion was an old man in his fifties with a grey, almost white goatee on his chin that made him look adorable despite his age. Sitting on his white horse his back was as straight as an arrow and he held the reigns exactly as Laura would expect an aristocrat to do, deft but delicate. Gold was woven or painted onto his surcoat, he had a long cloak of deep blue to match it and there was a sword on his belt. Other than that, he was a man, a bug beneath Laura's shoe if she wanted to.

“His lordship, Esindion of Trontsand!” The man with the lance announced next.

It was his job, Laura realized only now. He was only a soldier, though doubtless some kind of officer. It showed in his armour, his horse and his finer surcoat that were all better than those of most other soldiers she could see but not quite as good as the nobles'.

Lord Esindion of Trontsand was a stout man with a white moustache so bushy that it swallowed his mouth. It grew upwards at the sides making it look as though the man was ever smiling amicably. His eyes on the contrary were terribly afraid, barely visible or not though they were under equally bushy, white eyebrows. He was also the man in the coif.

“His lordship, Ingvalion Salzarell!”

The youngest of the three men was not afraid. Black of hair if his eyebrows and close cropped beard were anything to go by, his eyes seemed black as well. They glimmered in the lamplight like dark gemstones, looking up to the two giantesses in fascination. He bowed, slightly.

“You used to be the lord of this city.” Janna addressed him.

It sounded like a guess but Laura didn't know what basis it was made on before she remembered the name. The spoken to gave a thin smile and another hint of a nod.

“It is customary to first address the king.” King Andarion scolded, but not unkindly.

His eyes were amazed, his mouth amused, it seemed.

“So, here we are, us and you monsters.”

“I apologise, my king.” Janna inclined her head. Her eyes and face made Laura fear for the tiny king's life already. Janna could be unfathomably cruel when she was annoyed or tired as she was now.

“Your grace!” The rider with the lance corrected, somewhat mechanically. His eyes widened as soon as he had said it and Janna shot him a deadly glance.

“Your grace.” She repeated nonetheless.

It was a little awkward, but that seemed to please the king. Furio and Graham looked from face to face helpless. Lee seemed to share that sentiment but also find it amusing. When the king didn't speak, Lord Ingvalion did.

“I am the lord of Salza.” He said correctively. “Reduced to walls as it may be.”

He gestured to the mass of arriving people behind them before moving on: “His grace has kindly granted me a loan, new small folk, carpenters and other craftsmen to rebuild.”

“Good.” Laura said, eager to say anything at all. “My friend here has already cleared out the rouble for you.”

Again the hint of a smile, the hint of a nod.

“Well then I believe gratitude is in order.” He said softly. “And I hear there is much more to be thankful for?”

He turned to Lee who turned to Laura: “Best they hear it from you.”

Depopulating Thorwal from the capital to Olport and back had been an undertaking that had cost a lot of nerve and sweat. To be able to announce it now filled Laura with a sense of pride.

“We have killed every Thorwaller from here all the way to Olport.” She smiled.

“I can attest to that, your grace!” Furio followed up immediately with a bow but of course he couldn't do without watering it down a little. “A few might have escaped. But they are far too few to stir any trouble.”

Ingvalion gave a genuine nod but the king only smiled.

“You missed a certain Boyfucker and four thousand troublemakers, it would seem.” He remarked thinly.

Laura knew he was speaking of those Thorwallers that came south and burned this city. Four thousand sounded like a lot on the surface but it paled in comparison to the tens of thousands she and Janna had crushed.

There was another awkward silence the king of Nostria seemed to enjoy.

“Ha, remarkable!” He said after a while, completely without context. “Here I stand, arguing with monsters! And monstrous you are! General, you have not promised too much, though I must admit they are more feminine than I imagined.”

Laura glanced over to Janna to see whether or not she should cover her tits. Janna only looked tired and annoyed. Her belly rumbled loudly, prompting the tiny king's horse to neigh nervously and edge backwards ere he gave the reigns in his hands a sharp pull.

“Your grace,” Lee noted from the ground, “as much as...”

Janna grunted and suddenly all four riders and horses were in her hand. It happened so quickly that Laura couldn't do so much as gasp. Janna had them slide into her maw and chewed them like a handful of peanuts. Before anyone knew what happened it was already irreversible.

“Janna!” Furio shouted, angry and panicked.

She never said a word. She only grabbed the lantern, stood and stepped over the three tiny men towards the crowd of Nostrians with their torches. Men and horses went mad at once. Janna's heavy, round butt, her panty-covered crotch hung over them and giant hands reached carelessly into their midst to quench her hunger.

Laura moved after her, her naked soles aching with every step. She couldn't help but find that the panicking mob looked delicious. She wasn't hungry really. Her stomach had adjusted to lack of food and decided that the morning's meal was enough for now. She knew that if she ate she would grow hungry again though and that it was a wise thing to do if she meant to grow back to strength.

She reached for people too, never caring for how those she grabbed ended up, whether they were injured or not. Torches hissed and guttered out against the wetness of her mouth. The blood of those crushed in between her teeth when she chewed them was welcome too. She was in dire need of something to drink.

It was okay, apparently. Certainly it was not okay, but Janna had made the decision anyway. Why though, Laura wondered.

“Aren't we allies?” She mentioned with a mouth full of bodies.

Her stomach wanted more after the first swallow, just as she had expected, and she was heeding it's call. Janna didn't reply, only feeding like a corn-thresher. The people were dispersing, those still on the road turning around.

“Anyone who wants to live must go into the city!” Laura shouted in between chews.

She didn't know if anyone listened to her all that much. Besides, Laura's and Janna's feet were in between the tiny people and the gates of Salza.

-

“Best we stay where we are, my Lord General.” Furio grabbed Lee by the shoulder when he wanted to move.

His head was already done contemplating. He couldn't explain why this was happening, only what it meant that it did. Lee seemed to have a lot more trouble with it and that was a remarkable thing in and of it's own. Even before the gargantuan monsters, the general's demeanour had been light hearted, fearless, lacking in concern even when he had no idea what was about to happen. Now his small, dark-brown eyes were wide with terror.

“We have to stop them!” He huffed, clutching at the green cloak around Furio's shoulders that had once been his.

It was not an uncommon or illogical reaction.

“Lad, light my pipe for me, would you?” Furio gestured. Graham had received means to make fire from Lee's soldiers and went to work as he was bid, though white as wheel of goat cheese in his half hanging face.

“We can't.” Furio turned to Lee, calm as a rock. “We should not move lest we want to get mistakenly eaten or inadvertently underfoot.”

The people who were getting eaten and stepped on right now were completely helpless. Furio did not want to end in such a position. When Laura had almost fed him to the sleeping mouth of Janna it had already sufficed for thrills in one day.

“Why are they doing this?!” Lee shook him, waking memories of Major Phillipe Lefleur.

“His grace must have called Janna a monster one too many a time.” Furio guessed, prying the hands loose from him. “Or else she was wroth with the tone of his voice. She might have misliked the colour of his boots for all I know.”

He looked at Lee's sword wearily, hanging from the golden sash around his chest at his hip. He hoped it would remain in it's scabbard. In the distance someone begged noisily for their life before he could see Janna end him with annoyance under her uncaring foot. Laura seemed to eat on the one hand and on the other scrunch people in between her toes. More than a thousand King Andarion had brought over from Nostria, mostly peasants fled to the city before the Thorwalsh. Furio had seen the two she-titans undo far greater numbers than this but it would suffice to still their hunger for flesh and killing.

“Calm yourself, general.” He advised after taking the smoking pipe from Graham's shaking hands. “The king of Nostria is porridge now, as are the lords. It cannot be changed. Their sons will continue their lines, if Tsa and Peraine were kind enough to grand them any and Boron did not take too many of them to their graves. May Hesinde grand them more wisdom, Phex more wit than they did their fathers. Lad, a drink.”

He relied on Graham to carry all of his belongings now, he reflected. Bar his poor excuse for clothing, not a single thing he carried himself. But the young man did a splendid job at that. Instead of Furio he handed the field bottle to Lee who drank immediately. Graham was good at predicting real intentions. Smart. Furio drew on his pipe, the pleasant smoke filled his lungs and relaxed his larynx. Then he exhaled a thick puff of white smoke.

“Back to the city, little ants!”

On the fields Janna and Laura had eaten their fill it seemed. Like a flock of ducklings they herded the people with steps and stomps toward Salza, not hesitant to crush anyone each time their bare soles touched ground. They even caught and herded those down the king's road and drove them on.

The bottle came loose from Lee's throat, almost empty: “What now?”

“Who can tell.” Furio puffed wisely. “The next time must be better anticipated if the alliance is to continue. Andarion went this morning and made a brutal march. I expect there are wagons with building materials a day down the road. Best they turned back to Nostria.”

“How can there be an alliance now?!” Lee was aghast.

Furio frowned in thought: “One hundred meters does not seem much on parchment. But look at them, my lord general. Who would not be rather allied with this?”

After herding the remaining people close enough to the city Janna seemed to leave the lantern and the rest to Laura. She came stomping over to her resting place.

Lee didn't seem to notice, he was too feverish: “But do they still wish an alliance?!”

“Best ponder that tomorrow.” Furio advised. “This seems an ill time.”

But then Lee noticed and it was clear that he would not wait.

“What is the meaning of this!?” He roared, just before Janna would have blissfully stepped right over them and onto her blanket.

She stopped, spied him and narrowed her eyes. She bowed down, the mountain speaking to the cockroach: “Nostria has just bought the land of Thorwal from me. The price was the life of their king, two lords and a handful of peasants. A cheap price.”

Her mouth grinned but her eyes did not and Lee shrivelled together like a rotten apple.

“I am going to sleep now and anyone who wakes me will regret it.”

In Furio's judgement, Lee was lucky to still be alive. Janna's heel crashed down closer to them than would have been necessary but that was all she did to them before lying down. By the city gate Laura picked on a few stragglers by squelching them to paste, then she closed the gate and barred it with a hill of sand. Salza had five gates in total, a great many for a city like this, but she went to each and repeated the process meticulously until there was only drowning in the Ingval left as an escape for the people inside. On the other side of the city walls was only trampled earth and ashes. Janna had levelled everything, including the burned bones.

“Will she eat us now, master?” Graham clutched at Furio's arm.

It was a good possibility. Laura was unnecessarily evil, always and everywhere, impulsive and she seemed to have developed a grudge against Furio for some reason and particularly liked to torment Graham. True enough she came looking for them, lantern in hand, and smiled when she found what she was looking for. Furio smoked his pipe faster, intend on enjoying as much of the Stoerrebrandt's as he could before his possible death.

“Just us now.” Laura crouched, her skimpy undergarment spanning tight over the slight hill that was her crotch. “Are you scared?”

Furio could not deny it, how ever used to it he was by now.

Laura looked down at them through her knees. She could do anything she wanted to the three tiny men before her, not to mention the many trapped inside the city. After Janna had levelled everything in there it was like a great, dirty playground for her. And play she would, Furio had no doubt, and she was still dirty enough herself to not mind the ashes.

“Yes.” Furio said hoarsely, white smoke almost engulfing his head.

She did not seem to have expected an answer to her question but smiled nonetheless.

“Hop on.” She whispered, lazily motioning to her hand on the ground. “We wouldn't want to wake Janna.”

They were completely at her mercy. Furio didn't even have magic left to throw at her. Reasoning, well, who ever tried to reason with Laura was up for a merciless game. She was wilful, so much so that she could choose to do something just because someone had proposed to do something else. She wasn't stupid either and trying to trick her was not a wise plan. So they climbed her hand, Furio first, ushering Lee and Graham onwards. No one spoke.

She took them and the lantern inside the city walls. Hundreds of eyes peered up at her in terror and Furio could not help but lean over the edge of the giant hand and look at what she was doing. People were screaming and running again. There was an unusual amount of crying, or else Furio had grown unused to hearing it while they were in Thorwal. Laura squashed a runner under her foot so slowly that it almost appeared frozen in time, though it was just so to better feel their terror, their pain, he knew. There was no survival in between her hard, raw sole and the packed, blackened ground. If there was anything positive in this it was that she seemed to act more normal than before.

Most of the people were peasants, and thereby mostly female. Their husbands and sons that were old enough were somewhere else, most likely carrying spears and shields to guard some castle, some wagons, a city or something else. Male craftsmen were needed in war as much as in peace, but soldiers were also present below, wearing their blue surcoats. Some soldiers seemed to have reunited with their loved ones by chance but were unable to defend them having dropped their arms trying to flee.

It was chaos. People made away from Laura's feet as they could. She picked up another woman in a dress with her toes, had her fall to the ground again and extinguished her life under the ball of her foot. She walked strategically, driving the fleeing men and women away from the water towards the southern gate she had closed first. The walls narrowed there, creating a space where she could corner them. The few who seemed to guess her plan and try to cross it were toe food.

About half of those unfortunate souls late King Andarion had brought with him remained by Furio's judgement. In a horrible way, it was good that they were there. There was no telling what Laura would do, no matter how much he antagonized about it. If she would unload her evil on them rather then Furio and his companions then he would not protest. His hopes were raised when she held them against the parapets and allowed them to jump over after sitting down in front of her captured crowd.

Then she seemed to forget all about them. Why, Furio had no idea. Who could ever tell why Laura did anything. He doubted even Hesinde, goddess of wisdom, herself knew. Janna was reasonable, predictable, or at least he had thought so before today. What she had done struck him as something Laura was apt to do, not she. To his understanding Laura was the impulsive one. In actions, yes, he figured but remembered that impulsive reactions were not beyond Janna either, and neither was senseless cruelty.

“My feet are dirty.” Laura said, and it undeniably was true. The smell of them when she had pulled off her shoes had almost driven Lee's exquisite, wind-dried beef back out of Furio's stomach. They were not so smelly now as they were then but not pleasant things either if ever they had been, not to mention the fresh blood on them. They were all still filthy, Laura, Janna, Furio and Graham too.

“Lick them clean.”

The people recoiled from her playfully wriggling toes and Furio was glad not to be down there with them. When no one moved she caught someone under the big toe of her right foot and crushed them with it. Then again.

“I'll kill people until you start licking.”

After the fifth life claimed by her gargantuan toe it worked. Fear overturned disgust and the first men and women threw themselves at her left foot that was still settled on the ground. Faced by these odds there was nothing else they could do, except perhaps dying proudly. Most Thorwalsh would probably have chosen pride but they were not in Thorwal any more and most small folk could not afford such luxuries. And if she wanted, Laura could even get the Thorwalsh to do most anything, as she had proven.

“There, that's good.” She smiled when tiny tongues lapped at her dirty skin.

She exhaled in pleasure.

Furio was all too familiar with the mechanics at play, not licking Laura's feet in particular, but the dominance, the feeling of power she craved. It was a thing with these giant things. Amongst the small folk, next to her more deserving of their name than ever, around five dozen sacrificed themselves for the greater good. The taste was visibly horrible. People turned to gag often but kept on, fearing for their lives and their loved ones if they weren't lost yet. Carpenters or soldiers may have travelled alone, peasants brought their whole families with them, minus most fighting age males. Laura did not care, as usual.

She observed the spectacle with a chuckle: “Aw, do my footsies taste bad? Do they smell?”

Sometimes she did that too, make up words like that. Who was to stop her.

“Get deeper in between my toes.”

Then she giggled because it was tickling her, but apparently the sensation was good enough to bare it.

“What does she want with us, here?” Lee whispered, chewing on his upper lip as though he meant to eat it.

Furio still found it peculiar to see fear in his eyes. He said nothing. He didn't know. He had to be wise now and strong, but found it hard. Perhaps it would be good if Laura addressed them now, but she seemed to have another idea for her feet first. She withdrew them and leaned forward.

“Lay on the ground and make a bed for each of my soles.” She commanded, sounding as though it was something that would bring joy to everybody. “I'll rest my feet on your bodies, but I promise to try not to crush you. If you don't do it I'll crush you anyway.”

This time's hesitance she punished by picking three random people and stuffing them beneath her rump where her sex was. She was clearly becoming more normal again. The first to comply were relatives of those taken and once they went others followed. With her soles bedded on people she leaned back, freeing those under her crotch. To Furio's surprise too walked, bruised, the third could only crawl.

“Did I tell you to stop licking?” Laura gave her left foot some pressure, drawing moans and cries.

It was unclear where she wanted to be licked, so people gathered around her feet to lick and kiss her just as the people below started to do so as well. That really pleased her.

“You are so pathetic.” She chuckled again, as if it hadn't been her who made them be so.

In some women Furio had found it hard to tell when they were wanton. In this huge, vain one it was easy to spot and happening right before their eyes now.

“I want a beautiful peasant girl, or all of you are dead.” She snapped her fingers impatiently. “Make it a maiden and undress her.”

The mob went to work. That one was easy and only those who had beautiful unmarried daughters had something to lose. Laura only wanted one, but several were brought forth before the mob settled on a girl with yellow hair and apparently no parents present to miss her. They tore her dress off eagerly.

This practise was nothing new at all and Furio had seen it before. The titanesses seemed oddly to prefer girls for it, for whatever reason. Furio had had to sit through gigantic lovemaking several times, often involving tiny people. This time it was Laura alone, and her feet were being licked.

She picked the girl delivered to her hand and plunged it into her undergarments where it remained, moving. Slick squishing noises came from her sex a while later and the movement quickened. To Graham it was no new experience either but to Lee it was. The general just stared as if he had lost belief in everything.

After a while Laura gasped, obscenely, girlishly. Then louder. As she provoked it herself, her inevitable climax came eventually. Her back arched so much that her buttocks left the ground, entailing a transferral of weight to her feet. Everyone beneath was crushed. The girl did not make it out of her undergarments either. She came out a corpse, wet and glistening like Laura's fingers, blood running from her nose and mouth, used to death.

Laura sighed blissfully and flicked the corpse away before lifting and turning to her foot servants.

“Aw, sorry. Did I crush them?”

“What have we done.” Lee whispered. “We should have never consented to this.”

Furio cleared his finished pipe by turning it over and knocking it against a crenel.

“Do not act pious now, my lord general.” He said. “You knew what they are.”

Are, not were. That was important. What ever Horas did, the gargantuan creatures would not simply go away. Lee was speechless and there was no friendship in his eyes when he met Furio's gaze. He was acting like something he was not. Furio could not explain it other than by shock. Reading reports of the gargantuan cruelties was one thing, seeing them first hand something different entirely.

“Having them against us is easy.” He continued, handing the pipe to the lad. “Perhaps it is not too late to have them with us still.”

“That's good to hear.” Laura's face shot into view, grinning.

She had heard, but Furio had seen her ears prick up, her eyes glance over. If he failed this he was a done man, but perhaps he was already dead anyway.

Laura's face changed suddenly, frowning with doubts: “How do we fix Janna eating that king?”

“That king of Nostria.” Furio added, surprised to find Graham offering him a freshly stuffed and smoking pipe without having been asked to do it. He took it gratefully and puffed. Somehow smoking made him calmer and feel ten times the wiser too.

“What do you mean by that?”

“The Nostrians will be cross with you, have no doubt.” He allowed. “But in the end, they are just that. Nostrians. And Horas has great numbers on their lands, as it happens. If the new king wishes to avenge his father with the help of new allies, then he is a fool we would be very much justified in seeking to replace. Janna ate one king. Why can't she eat another?”

He wondered where the all those words were coming from. He must have either gone mad or become very wise somehow. He was not a good man any longer though, not for a long time, but then again, neither was he a wizard. There was a choice to be good in the sense of the Twelve. But that choice meant death, and perhaps even more evil in turn.

“So you say eating him wasn't a big deal?”

A wise man did not pour Hylailer fire into a brazier, but neither did he let the coals glim to an end before adding more fuel.

He puffed: “Queer choice of words, but yes, ultimately. No more than an unfortunate affair we will have to live with now. The Nostrians will bemoan their late king, but I do not see why things between Horas and you should change.”

Perhaps it was best to have men of import stay away from the giantesses in the future and have messages be delivered to them by more disposable means or through Furio. That would have been the wiser course to begin with. He wanted to believe that Laura did not want to kill him, but with her there was never a way to be entirely sure.

Furio looked at Lee who kept his teeth clenched. If he objected to anything that was said Furio would point out that he had relativised his own power himself earlier. He said nothing, as probably was best. There were none of his Maraskans in the crowd of Nostrians before Laura. Lee had told them to stay put before he, Graham and Furio had run down the steps and out to greet the newcomers. Over on the other side of the city, up on the wall they still stood like statues. Likely the scouts had gone into hiding in one of the half-burned towers. Prudent.

“Can we do anything?” Laura's eyes were untrusting.

That was an important question Furio could not answer if he was honest with her.

“I speak without warrant.” He admitted. “Only giving counsel. There must be a line you cannot cross, but where it is...”

He puffed again. Wise men often left words unsaid to give them more meaning, but if he had hoped that by doing that an answer would come to him he was without luck. The smooth, youthful skin on the giant forehead wrinkled. The worst she could do besides killing him was to act dim and press the question. The unholy, magic light from the gargantuan lantern reflected in her huge, playful eyes. Somehow it told him that she knew it.

“The best,” he added quickly, feeling pressured to it, “would be if the both of you abstained from killing Horasians or Maraskans unless expressly permitted to do so. The same I would say for Nostrians, if you are willing to follow these rules.”

It was all a little, wise bug could say.

To his astonishment, Laura grew defensive, raising her hands in innocence: “I wasn't going to do anything to the king or the lords, or to these people.”

She nodded forward where Nostrian small folk were still lapping at her feet next to the crushed remains of their unfortunate fellows.

“Janna told me herself that we were supposed to be allies. I didn't touch the Maraskans this morning either.”

The way she made it sound as if she had been an utter lamb besides that made the chunk even harder to swallow, which she seemed to remember now too.

She rolled her eyes: “Fine, I almost fed you to Janna but that was only a joke.”

If so it had still been an immeasurably cruel one. To him it hadn't felt like one to be sure and worse yet she said it as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Look at me.” She continued, her face earnest and so for once her speech. “You know how easy I could kill you. But I'm curious where this is going.”

“And Master Furio is right. It hasn't gone all the wrong way yet.”

Lee's eyes were full of hidden thoughts Furio could not guess.

“So, I believe the overarching question is, what will there be tomorrow?” He added, turning to the gargantuan girl.

She only shrugged and looked at Furio who sucked at his pipe for wisdom. Somehow, Stoerrebrandt's seemed a much better helper than goddess Hesinde had ever been.

“When I hatch plans,” he began, “they ever seem to break like eggshells. Wait and see, I say, and for now let's try to not eat any more kings.”

Laura grinned: “I will talk to Janna about that.”

“Milords!”

A woman had stolen away from the crowd of Nostrians, half-way past Laura and hailed the three men conversing with the giantess.

“Help us, milords, please?!”

“My breakfast is talking to you.” Laura's grin grew only wider.

Furio looked away and could hear the woman scream when Laura ate her.

After his last, possibly wisest words there was not much left to say. Kinder than ever before Laura took them, gathered Lee's fifteen remaining Maraskans, the scouts who revealed themselves after some shouting and set them all down outside the walls. Inside it may have been safer or not, depending on what the trapped Nostrians would do. But if Janna woke before Laura and got it into her sleepy head to eat some people for breakfast just as Laura had suggested they would do then it could end bad for scouts or soldiers in there too.

The lantern was not left burning for them, however. Laura flicked a huge lever and it's magic died before she went to sleep, leaving them where they were.

“She takes lives as easily as men take breaths.” Lee noted in the darkness. “I must apologise for my outburst. It was unseemly. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It is easy to get overwhelmed by their violence.” Furio replied softly.

After that, it wasn't long until the soldiers had found their supplies. Furio received a sleeping bag and a fresh, white silk shirt, a soldiers death-shirt, another great honour apparently. This meant quite a loss for the soldier as well as having to sleep on the ground but the small, flat-faced man vowed he'd do so gladly.

For common people, such as the soldiers were, there was a breaking of fast in the morning, so being called for the long time in which one had not eaten. They had their dinner at noon, meaning the meal in the middle of the day, depending on time of year. Mostly, it was had in the afternoon as scholars keeping close track of time with the help of hourglasses had discovered. After that, there were no other meals and breakfast was not sumptuous either.

Such however was not the practise for persons of high station like academy mages and generals and so Lee and Furio each had another bowl of what they had eaten during the day, rice with carrots and beef, drowned in vegetable oil.

Curled up in his sleeping bag, Furio reflected on the day. Laura had dozed off after the morning's feeding but Janna had held on stubbornly to staying awake. She had washed with a rock-sized piece of soap in the river, scrubbed her clothes and Laura's, just to fill her hands. She had lain them out to dry around afternoon when even Furio and Graham had drifted to sleep. When he had awoken to her stomping in the city he had been angry and wroth and told her that he had meant to bury the charred skeletons in there with rites.

But had he really, he asked himself, or had it just been to say something in order to vex her because she had woken him. It had been a mistake and futile. The burnt corpses were now pulverized and one with the city ground on which a new Salza would no doubt be erected at some point in the future. He was sure though that his reaction was not unlike to the reaction Janna had had when confronted with the king. She had become annoyed, she was tired, and that had made her unreasonable as it had made him. Hunger and exhaustion could be potent weapons if ever he had to fight the giantesses, he concluded, but they had to be very skilfully employed or else they were dangerous, deadly even.

Whenever there was something that might be used against the titanic girls he made a diligent note of it in his mind. What was his purpose though, he wondered queerly. He meant to stay alive, of that much he was certain, and he wanted to serve Horas, now as ever. Other than that, he was a reed in the wind, swinging wherever he was blown. He wondered if it would be this way forever.

Then he woke, suddenly, Andon Patchcloak beside him snoring louder than any man he had ever heard snore before.

-

“Wake up, sleepy head.” Janna rubbed Laura's belly.

The girl had slept forever and it became worrying. She should eat, not having touched any of the Nostrian provisions King Andarion and his two lords had brought. Nostrian cuisine was heavy on fish, naturally for a coastal kingdom, but Laura needed calories to grow back to strength. Besides there was bread, bacon, pork, chicken, butter and the like to be had. Janna had left the choices morsels for Laura, knowing that she wasn't much of a fish eater.

“Laura.” Janna sang sweetly, caressing a cheek. “Time to get up.”

Laura's face cringed and then her whole body. She got up.

“Woa, I'm hungry! Did you leave me a few?”

“Of course I did.” Janna gestured.

It wasn't a lavish feast, but near everyone King Andarion had brought with him was going hungry to feed them. They'd only eat after the next wagons would arrive today.

Laura's eyes opened and her jaw almost fell onto her chest: “What the fuck? Who are these people? Did new ones arrive?”

“Uh, hello?” Janna grinned. “These are the Nostrians who arrived yesterday? King Andarion and his guys? You met them, don't you remember?”

“Did you let them out? Why are there horses?”

“Out from where?”

Laura must have dreamed something terrible, Janna thought. She seemed completely confused.

“Ah, the second one is awake! Marvellous!” Tiny King Andarion the second of Nostria stemmed his hands into his hips and gave Laura an admiring look.

He had changed his armour for a dark blue doublet with golden fastenings and black velvet britches with matching leather boots. Instead of his crowned helm he wore his real crown on his silvery hair, small though golden and set with gemstones. He must have heard Janna mention his name.

“He's alive?!” Laura gaped when she saw the man. “You ate him!”

“What?” Janna gave a frown. “I didn't eat anybody, not even Andon Patchcloak that snoring wonder. If that one wakes me one more time with his nightly sawing I swear he is going to have an accident.”

The effort fell flat completely.

“Did I dream?” Laura rubbed her face hard. “What day is this?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know what day it is.” Janna was helpless.

Now finally awake by the looks of her, Laura took a good look around.

“None of it happened.” She said, perhaps to herself. “I dreamt we ate them all and I made them lick my feet.”

“You dreamt.” Janna affirmed. “You slept like a log. I woke you when the king arrived and you opened your eyes briefly but as soon as I turned away you must have been gone again. You slept for a day and a night straight, no wonder you had weird dreams.”

Lords Ingvalion and Esindion joined the king before the blanket. Ingvalion wore plain clothes in black, Esindion, frightened as ever, chain mail and sword.

“My lords.” Janna greeted them with an inclination of her head. There was no point in bowing, they were simply too small. “My Lord Ingvalion, shouldn't you overlook the rebuilding of your city?”

He smiled up at her in that way he had: “I found that the craftsmen perform their art better if left a free hand. Two many cooks will spoil every porridge.”

“Her hair could use a gargantuan comb but she is a most fair thing to look at.” Andarion said out of context.

That was a bit of a pet peeve with him. He seldom ever cared what others were talking about.

Laura moaned: “I was one hundred percent certain you ate all three of these guys, plus their horses, straight out a nowhere.”

It was good that she was speaking English. Janna didn't want to unnecessarily scare little, old Lord Esindion into a heart attack.

“And why would I do that?” She asked sharply, ignoring the king. “We're allies, remember? Don't kill anyone, eat the food and then, for the love of god, go wash yourself. You smell like cheese, your feet especially.”

Laura shifted the blanket off of her and looked down at her toes with unexplainable sadness in her eyes.

“Laura.” Janna had to say and gesture again, considering slapping her. “Food!”

Only then did Laura's eyes see the ox and mule carts, wheel barrows and horse wagons. The draft animals Janna had left were not yoked to the wagons any more but bound to the wooden frames with string so they couldn't get away.

“Leave the wagons whole.” She added. “They still need them. You can eat the animals though.”

Hungrily, Laura reached for a particularly big oxen first, lowered the screaming creature into her maw and crunched it noisily. The piece of wagon it was bound to, some stick-wooden railing, came off with it but Janna decided not to say anything.

“Is there something wrong?” Furio joined the three tiny nobles.

She shook her head: “Laura had a bad dream, that's all.”

The tiny mage looked surprisingly understanding: “She's not alone in that.”

That was a bit cryptic and the look he gave the three men next to him even more. Furio wore a colourless woollen shift over his newly acquired silk shirt and white linen britches. His hair had received a sheering by a deft but visibly unskilled hand, giving him a hair cut that looked more thoroughly medieval than even all Nostrians combined. A bold spot was showing at the top of his head which gave him something of a monk and only made him look even older. His beard had grown long and been left untouched, bar perhaps for some untangling.

“Furio, I told you sucking smoke into your lungs will kill you. It is much too early, besides.” Janna scolded when she noticed that he was smoking again.

He smoked that also newly acquired pipe whenever he could now and she considered taking it away from him and crushing it for the sake of his health. The tiny man loved his long, minuscule pipe so much though that she decided against it.

“Wouldn't it be best if they went out and found some wretched Thorwallers to eat?” King Andarion spoke again, watching one of his small, gelded draft horses perish in Laura's maw.

He had said that a number of times before and this morning as well while Janna had eaten a few more of his supplies.

“I tell you again, your grace,” Furio replied through a cloud of white smoke, “killing them would not be the problem. It's finding them.”

If he had heard, Andarion gave no hint of it. Janna considered what Laura had said about eating him. It would be easy, but the implications were big, stupid and avoidable. If she wanted to kill someone it was Andon Patchcloak. The man snored so loudly that he had woken everyone other than Laura in the night. The whole camp had been awake, looking for source of the noise. How someone like that could ever be a scout was beyond her, assuming that scouts had to be sneaky so as not to be detected. They certainly wouldn't miss him if Janna inadvertently stepped on the man, but it was still only a funny, little thing she played with in her mind.

“There will be food for your people and the giantesses when General Lee arrives with the new supplies.” Furio went on. “He has ridden out to urge them on.”

“That is good.” Queer but soft-spoken Lord Ingvalion observed. “My labourers need their strength about them.”

He was always all fascination when looking up at the giant girls but Janna could not rid herself of a certain unease he gave her.

“Er, we were promised a ride in her gargantuan hand and a demonstration.” King Andarion demanded suddenly. “May we have it now?”

Janna had made the promise the night before when the king demanded it. Carrying them in her hand was easy enough and an understandably exciting prospect for them. That other thing struck her as cruel.

“What demonstration?” Laura asked in English with a visible distaste for the raw, living chickens she was chewing in her mouth along with their wooden cage.

Janna grimaced: “They want to watch me step on someone. A demonstration of power. You can do it if you want, if you want to kill someone.”

“Nah, that's fine.” Laura swallowed. “I killed enough people in that dream I had. Who will you squish?”

“No idea.” Janna shrugged uncertainly. “I don't think they brought any prisoners.”

That brought a smile to Laura's lips but she said nothing. Furio too, said nothing. No one said anything.

“I washed your clothes by the way.” Janna put her hand on the ground to let the tiny nobles climb on. “Don't you dare put them on before you hit the river, I warn you. The soap is over there.”

There was not much left of that piece of soap but it would still suffice for the thorough scrubbing Laura needed. Mumbled acknowledgement followed Janna's words while Lord Esindion needed some sharp words by his king to finally make it onto the palm of her hand.

“Softly now!” Furio called up after making the climb with them.

Janna rose slowly as she was bid.

“Ha, marvellous!” King Andarion exclaimed. “I feel like a bird!”

Janna turned towards the Ingval and the wide, empty land beyond: “All this is yours now, your grace.”

His grace was a bug in her hand and she carried him effortlessly along with three other fully-grown men.

“Best claim it quickly.” Furio added. “Before mountain clans or Fjarningers settle in.”

“Pests!” The king declared. “If they do, we shall have her dispose of them again.”

Furio gave Janna a queasy look but said nothing. Janna knew that she and Laura would leave this place before long and she wouldn't dread it. The land was bare and burned. They were Horas' allies as well. How much any Nostrian, king or not, was able to give her commands she didn't know yet. She turned to Salza next where tiny labourers were tearing down charred ruins, removed scrap and corpses and collected usable stones.

There wasn't much. The temples of Ingerim and Hesinde had been made of stone but collapsed entirely. Hesinde was the goddess of wisdom and her collection of scrolls and tomes had burned particularly fiercely it seemed. Furio guessed that it had been offerings of wood and coal that had done for the temple of Ingerim, godfather of craftsmanship, and the candles might have done the rest in each case afterwards. The Travia temple or hospitality, family and marriage had been made of wood and burned down entirely. There was nothing left.

“When we claim the lands north we must rebuild the bridge.” Ingvalion said softly. “My liege, can I count on you for the required stone and mortar as well as skilled men to build it?”

“A toll shall be placed on crossing the new bridge.” Andarion replied. “A copper for each nose. The proceeds shall go to my coffers for the first two years. After that, it is yours, though it shall be named after me.”

Janna smiled at the politics being made on the palm of her hand and Lord Ingvalion gave both her and his king a thankful nod.

“Now,” Andarion turned to Furio, “we should like to see the crushing.”

The tiny mage didn't even flinch, only bowed his head and said: “Would you like to see it from up here or from below, up close, your grace?”

“Both.” The king replied before he pointed off to the empty fields with burned haystacks. “That one seems suitable.”

He meant a peasant woman, wearing a brown dress and apron, stalking in between some bushes perhaps in hopes of finding a place to squat down and relieve herself.

“Janna?” Furio's mouth was tight but his eyes determined. He was still puffing on his pipe.

She took the walk along the city walls and around the camp of tents were the lords and soldiers had spent the night. The working small folk and idling soldiers looked up at her in fear and made a few steps to get further away from her. Some went straight into hiding, dropping anything they had been doing before.

Just as the tiny peasant woman had found a suitable spot she saw Janna coming straight at her. She shrieked, jumped to her feet and bolted but her feet caught in her dress and she fell.

“Lean over my thumb if you want to see, my lords.” Janna said, placing her fingers in such a way as to allow for that.

The woman had half found her feet again, making away stumbling and crawling in panic. It was cruel, but Janna was used to that. To her it was an insignificance, one less slow-moving speck upon the ground. Her tiny victim wasn't fast by any standards.

Janna wore her jeans and shirt but was going barefoot. The weather allowed it again without freezing and she wanted her boots well aired of their stench before marching on. She figured the best way to show how easily she could kill people was not to make much of a ritual about it. She placed her foot over the running woman and stepped down, slightly leaning into it for more weight. The ground was soft here.

For a brief instance she felt her, her last struggles, then there was cold, wet earth and the squelch of the little body giving in and crumbling.

“Marvellous!” King Andarion cheered.

Ingvalion looked very pleased as well, only the Lord of Trontsand looked as though his breakfast was about to make a sudden retreat through his mouth.

Janna crouched and held the men close to her footprint so they could see the crushed result. Esindion wretched then, but to his luck managed to spill it all onto the ground and nothing on Janna's hand.

“That shall suffice.” The Lord of Salza said. “We have seen all we must.”

King Andarion concurred and Janna would not be required to crush another peasant it seemed. Now that she had done the first one she would have welcomed another. She could only envy Laura for her vivid dreams, confusing or not as they were.

“Your grace.” She said in turning, careful to have the heel of her foot land on the flattened body of the peasant woman again. “I should like for some of your subjects to polish my footwear until it gleams. That of my fellow friend as well. We have walked very far and there is many a thing still stuck to the bottom that needs scraping off.”

“Done!” The king said gracefully. “I will see to it myself!”

His hands wouldn't do any polishing, she knew, but that was alright. Her shoes were in need of cleaning and the thought of tiny, helpless people scratching dirt and bodies off the leather sole as well as removing the completely disintegrated corpses from the inside excited her.

Shortly after, everything was very much normal. Graham sat on the battlements of Salza, doing another drawing for Furio after he had created his most beautiful earth, stone and grass map yet, depicting the entire kingdom of Nostria. Furio himself was speaking to Lord Ingvalion, smoking and sharing a flagon of wine. The king had a nap in his tent and Lord Esindion was awaiting a meal to replace the one he had lost to the peasant woman.

Janna gave the soldiers that gaped and ogled at Laura's naked body in the river a sharp look, seemingly reminding them of very urgent tasks, very suddenly.

“You have a lot of fans.” She told Laura when she arrived there and crouched down.

Laura was fighting with her hair, white with soapy bubbles.

“I should have taken Alrik Oilboiler with me.” She complained. “The soap is almost used up and maybe he could have made me some conditioner.”

Janna snorted. The alchemist of Thorwal was likely a head on it's walls now though.

“He never delivered on that fragrant oil either.”

“There's so many things we actually need beside food.” Laura pondered with one of her cute frowns. “Do you think the Nostrians are any use?”

“They're pretty backwards too.” Janna replied. “But what I heard of Horas sounds promising. I've learned the word for perfume. Fragrant water.”

“Poetic.” Laura scoffed. “But we're not going there soon are we?”

“No.” Janna admitted. “We should go to the Andergastian border and ask Scalia for things that need squishing. We might have to go kill tiny Barbie dolls. Are you up for that?”

“Walking again.” The frown returned, darker. “But sure, could be a lot of fun. Something that doesn't break immediately when you hurt it.”

She dunked her head into the water and continued with her face upside down, not a grain of fat visible on her belly as she bent.

“If it's Andergast I guess we should go back to the ship and pick up Steve and Christina as well?”

Janna nodded: “My plan exactly. And afterwards we have to make back to Nostria real quick. I don't want to starve all over again.”

“When we see a village we'll ignore it.” Laura tried to get the knots out of her hair with her fingers. “Then we say we need a break and one of us goes back and eats it. We'll take turns.”

“That might work.” Janna weighed her head. “We'll take Furio and Graham. Scalia will have a map of Andergast and they can show us where to find food. That's even better.”

She thought of Steve and the little game she had played with him in the lake. The taste of him on her tongue, the feel of his tiny cock, his hard, muscular chest and all that. She wanted to do it again, best with him naked next time. He was special because he was really human, not medieval and someone she had known while he was still a good deal taller than her too. Thinking of the things she could do with him got her loins all excited, even more than Laura's gorgeous body.

“How did your squishing go?” Laura asked after throwing her hair behind her head.

Janna made a squelching sound with her tongue, producing a laugh.

“You know,” Laura said suddenly. “In my dream after you ate the king and the lords and we went all-you-can-eat on those tiny Nostrians, Furio told me that it wasn't a big deal. There'd be a knew king, he said, and I shouldn't worry about it.”

Janna considered that for a moment.

“Well.” She finally said. “I don't really want to find out, if you don't mind. As for the Nostrians, I think they don't care too much if we snack a peasant here or there.”