K'rar was on the road to Addonibad by himself for three days, going through three towns along the way. Addonibad was near the border with Andria, and was just one of five major towns of Fimron. Although it occupied two peninsulas, Fimron's entire population was in the southern one. The northern part was taken by the barren, cold mountain ranges, and K'rar knew that the Nephilim were up there, as in the legend. Still, he didn't know how he would explain to Governor Yrma about his cracked theory. So he stopped on the plateau shadowing Addonibad under a tree, and looked down at the nice quiet city from a mile away, to rehearse what he was going to say to her. He was only hoping that someone had heard about the missing dwellers of Zohaltiel Valley and appraised the governess about it. Of course she would be prejudiced against that valley and its inhabitants. K'rar thought he was equipped to move her to help them despite their unhelpful attitude. She liked him.
The governess' estate was more beautiful than Onder's. It was the same design and perhaps the same size, but being a lady, Yrma treated it more as a home than just a house. There were more flowers in the yard, and greener meadows organized in four square patches. There were two hedge statues in the two patches closest to the gate, of a wolf and a bird, the two emblems on Fimron Province's flag. K'rar had been here once before, but he still stopped in the compound to stare at these statues, just before the governor's top official, but not a prefect, accosted him there. He was her chief secretary. His name was Vaysal, a silver haired former seaman who had come into the governess' life as a business associate nearly 20 years ago. He loved the political sphere, and Yrma had seen that he was a capable secretary. Vaysal was a short bald man with clear blue eyes and a straight moustache. He liked to wear garments larger than his small stature to compensate it, and to show off his importance. Still, he was a diligent worker with a likeable temperament. He was always smiling at his audience even though there was no reason, like he did to K'rar from afar.
'Well hello, young man. The boy with a man's brain.'
'What?' K'rar did not like that description of him.
'You're a popular kid, especially among the king's war council. I even heard they were touting you for a position on the council,' this was conjecture, 'you dispatched a huge gang of rebels with your crazy strategy, although they're regrouping steadily. Come on in. Yrma is not in, but she will be back in two jiffs. We were expecting you tomorrow morning.' It was the afternoon of the third day, but K'rar had actually been slower than usual, as it would have taken him just two days to arrive here at his normal pace on a horse.
'You were expecting me?'
'Why, yes. Didn't you send a pigeon ahead of you?'
K'rar hadn't sent a pigeon.
'Old Sahar,' he muttered to himself.
'Yes, the apothecary. We thought you were with him when you sent the bird.'
'No, I left him. What did he say?'
'Yrma didn't show me the details, as it was unofficial correspondence, but she had me prep a team of ten men to return with you, I don't know what for.'
K'rar was both delighted and worried. If the apothecary had sent a bird ahead of him, he would have had to travel to the nearest town, as he couldn't have sent it from Zohaltiel. That only meant one thing. The situation was worse than he had left it. K'rar had to wait for the governor, who arrived about two hours later, to learn the details of the letter. The governess was fond of K'rar, so she did not get into official business until after several minutes of engaging him in unrelated talk. K'rar, too, was secretly fond of her. His adventure with Rubio of Moon Province had caused him to love the concept of a powerful woman, but in his head, one wielding a sword. As for this woman, she reminded him of his own mother, and she was about her age. The governess was a widow, having lost her husband to a bad strain just eight years into their marriage. She told him this. She also told him that she had decided not to marry again, not because of failure to heal from grief, but because her husband had clouded her perception of men. He'd been a decadent, indecent fool who couldn't come to terms with the fact that she was a more important member of society than he was. She had known that her husband frequented whore houses, but she had stayed out of his business as long as he stayed out of hers. They had lived in such a household for years until the man succumbed to the disease.
'I sometimes wish that I remarried. Perhaps I could have a son like you, K'rar.'
'I'm glad you think that highly of me,' K'rar replied. They were alone in her parlor save a couple of maids.
'Yeah. You should come by more often,' she gasped, 'I almost forgot. There's a letter for you from your friend, Princess Shaniz.' With a look she directed one of the maids to bring this. It was stuffed in a cabinet by a wall.
'The princess sent me a letter?'
'She did,' the maid handed it to him, 'see? You, son, are a rare child. The military officers are drawing lots over who gets to keep you, if an offer is made. If an offer is made, you should go into the king's service. You can keep the princess company there.'
K'rar spotted her message, but he ignored it. Still, he did not initiate talking about the issue that had brought him until she did. He kept away the letter for later, and said,
'The secretary said they're calling me the boy with a man's brain.'
'Oh, don't let it bother you. It will pass. Still, you are not a normal fourteen-year-old. You are an old head on young shoulders.'
As much as K'rar hated to admit, he knew there was lots of evidence to verify this. For example, while other boys his age were learning how to fish and how to sheer their flocks of sheep and playing mock battles and what have you, K'rar was hanging out with men and women over three times his age, and he was about to embark on an excursion that other kids would just hear in stories of old fishermen and ironsmiths. This had been his trend, and K'rar was starting to dislike it. He hadn't had a lot of exposure with other children. He had had to defend a kingdom from its enemies, and be on the run with grown seasoned warriors for nearly a year. He had had too much adult company. So right there on the couch, K'rar resolved that he would hang out more with kids his own age, right after his upcoming goose chase. He thought about the princess Shaniz, who was actively interested in him. Yeah, he said to himself in his heart. I will begin with her.
In his letter, old Sahar explained that the morning after the day the men went out to search the ranges, it somehow made the mystery creature even more indignant, and that night it had shown its forceful hand and damaged a large part of the kraals apart from taking off with more animals. K'rar was showing this to the ten men who Yrma had handpicked to return to Zohaltiel valley with him, saying,
'This might sound crazy, but, does any one of you know the legend of the Nephilim?' he asked them. Governess Yrma was with them in her yard to see them off. The head of the squad was one of her good men called Bartle Frere, an excellent tracker and soldier who had been in her service six years. He said,
'The giants? Are we going up to hunt giants?' he was looking at the governess.
'Sergeant,' the governess said to him, 'I know it sounds crazy to many natives here, but, this is a kid who's seen crazy things in his short life, things told in stories. Now you're not going to hunt giants, but behave as if you are. Because if there's even a remote chance that the Nephilim are even real to begin with, you understand the implications, no?'
Bartle Frere nodded, 'Yes ma'am.'
'Besides, something is up on that mountain. You need to discover exactly what it is before you return. Understood?'
After just one day of travel, Bartle Frere and K'rar had already become good friends. Bartle Frere wanted to know, as everyone else did, who K'rar was that he should even manage to get Governess Yrma to assign him men at his age even though he had won a battle, and also what the governess meant about the crazy things K'rar had seen. But K'rar stalled until they were alone, as the leaders of the small adventure. It was the end of the day, and they had made their first stop in the town of Carmi nearest to Addonibad. K'rar was with Bartle Frere alone on a table, while their men filled up other positions in a small bakery that was also a pub. The eleven of them were alone when they came, and the baker's wife explained to them that people were just only returning from last month's Union Games in Zadok, and even then, Carmi wasn't a dense town. K'rar took a cup of tea, and began to speak.
'I just have a brief but rich history,' he said.
'Which you're going to tell me?'
'No. Perhaps in future I will have to tell, but I don't want to talk about it. I have only told others what they need to hear.'
'Hmm. Are you saying you lied to them or that you left out some details?'
'The latter.'
Bartle Frere did not force the issue. He nodded, and said,
'How about Governor Yrma? Do you know her by some relation?'
'No, not really. The aristocrats just like me because of that battle. I'm from a humble family in Iscalan, in Alhanan.'
'You certainly don't look it. Last I checked, the whole tribe are redheads, and perhaps some hybrids, who wouldn't have black hair. You seem to come from an entirely different place, you know.'
'Yeah, so I've been told. A bit stressing to have to explain every time I meet someone new.'
'I agree.' Bartle Frere said, and reclined in the furniture, 'Why don't you tell me how you decided to start hunting the Nephilim? Even better, why you believe it's more than a legend.'
K'rar explained to him starting with the book in the Gendarium fort in Iscalan, and the events in Zohaltiel Valley in the last week.
'The men in Zohaltiel are annoying anarchists. They almost lynched me for mentioning the government, but then I confirmed that something was visiting the valley with a widow who described exactly what I feared. Is it a coincidence that there are disappearances in exactly the same place and in exactly the same manner as in the legend?'
'The chances are indeed infinitesimal,' Bartle Frere was now contemplative.
Before K'rar went to his bunker, he sat down to read Princess Shaniz's letter. In it she said she wished that he lived at the palace, that both she and Bekka were missing him. But we only met two days. She also ordered him to pay a visit before going back south, that after all he would be useful to her father. She then ended by asking him to train her in sword fighting, as K'rar himself had commented that she would look good in tight pants, boots and a sheath, instead of large, bellbottomed silk dresses. K'rar wanted to scribble a reply right there, but his sleep-laden eyes defeated him.
The situation was indeed worse. In fact, it was worse than the apothecary had mentioned when K'rar and his men rode their horses into Zohaltiel Valley. The men of the valley were in the Wattle, looking very afraid. Two more of their number, including Mo, had been taken. K'rar was hoping that they weren't maintaining their intransigence when he dismounted the horse. The rest of them who had seen his arrival from their homes, including the women, rushed to the scene. K'rar learned that old Sahar had bolted when things became too scary for him to stay.
K'rar's face instinctively landed on the rude man from before.
'These are soldiers from Governor Yrma and from the Fimron Unit of the Revolutionary Guard,' he said. The soldiers remained on their horses and at a distance away, except Bartle Frere, who stood by K'rar, 'I am hoping you will accept them, and we can mount a real search.'
'We don't need…'
'Oh for fuck's sake, Drusus, shut up. The kid was right the whole time. We are not savages,' this man came forward, 'we'll take any port in a storm at this rate. Welcome to the valley, soldiers. And you, kid, you're a good kid.'
'So what happened in the last week?' Bartle Frere asked, 'my friend here is confident that you are being attacked by giants. Anyone seen anything?'
'What do you mean giants?' Romiel's father, who was also called Romiel, stepped forward. After Mo, he was clearly the most significant of the bunch. Bartle Frere looked down at his young companion.
'The legend of the Nephilim,' said K'rar, 'I have reason to believe that it is not a legend. The Nephilim ruled this land once, they were the eleventh tribe. The warring tribes got a common enemy, and fought together against them. That is how the United Kingdom was formed. Somehow, they are resurfacing.'
'And apart from searching for our missing friends,' Bartle Frere said, 'we are going to find out how 600 year-old giants are alive again, and where they came from.'
'Oh my God. Giants!' someone exclaimed, 'that would explain a lot of things.'
'But we carried out a thorough search in the lower ranges,' said Romiel Senior, 'unless you men will search the mountains.'
'Yeah. We must scale the mountains as far as Ezekiel Peak.' Ezekiel Peak was the Red Mountain's highest, at least 40 miles north from the valley according to the local estimates.
'The mountain is impossible to navigate. And nobody has ventured that far into the mountain before.'
'Then we better begin preparations,' said Bartle Frere, 'now we can't confirm that giants are causing this problem, so we find out first, hoping that they will return tonight.'
'Tell us what to do.'
'We need to set a trap,' K'rar said to them, and unearthed from his bag a piece of paper. On it he had drawn the said trap, 'I know you have carpenters among you. We just need some spears, two good ropes and if you can find a net, that would be great. If there are giants, I believe they will abduct anyone who sees them, even a mere glimpse. At least I know those people weren't killed.'
The men converged and passed around the contraption design.
'Is this your work, son?' Romiel asked.
'Yeah.' Said K'rar. The men were impressed.
'So, why is the eleventh tribe just kidnapping the men and not killing them? I understand the animals must be for food.'
'If we catch one or injure it, perhaps we can get it to speak,' said Bartle Frere.
'I am a carpenter. My name's Ryoko. I'll get right on it.'
'I'll get the spears. We've also got some nets by the estuary down by the river.'
The contraption was a crossbow design. The villagers could make at least three of them very quickly before nightfall. Set on a wide base, the machine was built to propel several shards of wood or metal in all directions, once a rope was remotely tugged at. K'rar was hoping that these would disable the giant and ground it, even though it could still do some damage. K'rar also had a contingency plan in case they did catch one but not a second one. To poison it with oleander smoke. He asked the men to be ready to burn many fresh leaves, which he had brought with him, in and around the kraal, and along the entire length of the road. Bartle Frere prepared the soldiers on the roofs of the houses where they could aim at the head of a giant. They were fully equipped with bow and arrow for this. K'rar had made them purchase these in the fortified town some miles south of here.
By midnight everyone was wide awake and in position. Some men were hiding among the animals. Others were hiding in corners near the trigger ropes of the contraptions. K'rar had been strongly advised by the men to stay away from the action, so he was hiding with the junior Romiel on a roof of one of the houses farthest from the kraals. The houses all had triangular roofs, so the hunters were hiding on the leeward side of them from the road. They were hoping that it wouldn't rain at all because the whole plan would be compromised, but the sky was constantly rumbling as a harbinger of rain. Still, after nearly two hours, there was no rain, and the men had now started chatting up each other while they waited. Romiel was saying to K'rar,
'If there are giants here, and your little plan caught us one, they might make you king.'
K'rar laughed at this, but for reasons his friend wouldn't understand. Romiel went on,
'Where did you learn that, by the way?'
'Learn what?'
'The weapons we made.'
'I didn't learn it, I just…'
K'rar had shut up because the two men on the nearest roof had also gone silent. Apart from a wicked cricket in the grass nearby, the sound was unmistakable. The sound of heavy footsteps.
'Shit,' Romiel whispered, 'can you see it?'
'No,' they crawled to the top of the ridge and squinted into the dark. The footsteps had stopped, but K'rar could make out a faint, regular droning sound. It was the sound of breathing. No, sniffing. Can it smell them? He hoped that it didn't. But the time between the breaths confirmed that it was definitely a giant, and K'rar soon saw it with his own eyes. Its outlook was nothing like K'rar had envisioned. It was not scale skinned or rough edged. It was not shabby with unkempt hair like that of a mad man, nor was it walking on bare feet with irregular toes. The only frightening thing was its enormous size and height—its head was slightly higher than the roof. But K'rar couldn't believe that it was almost entirely human, just very tall and heavy. The giant was dressed in real cotton clothing, a sleeveless linen shirt, a heavy belt that looked like it was made of copper, and a skirt made of the same material as the shirt under the belt fastened to its waist. It was the same piece of clothing from top to bottom. The giant carried a large basket-like thing, evidently with some equipment within. Also, the Nephilim kept his hair well combed, his black, long hair. His face was not contorted with grooves from ugliness. It was just an average man's face many times bigger, and perhaps with thicker skin. The giant's arms were hairy, but just as hairy as they would be if he were a man. He carried two weapons with him; a heavy blunt-ended club, and a massive battle ax. The latter was strapped to a belt on his wide hips, but he held the club in his large left arm. The giant was definitely sensing an unusual presence. He was unsettled, looking this way and that near the roof and near the corners of the houses between which he was standing. He knew the men were there. And he likely knew they could see him. K'rar's devices were still some meters away from him. The giant needed to move closer for anything to work. They wanted to take him alive, so the shooters on the roofs were only there to open fire in case the giant became hostile. He did not. In fact, after some time, he began to track back, as if to exit. Then he stuck a hand over the roof of one house, and confirmed K'rar's fears that he knew they were there, waiting for him. There was only one thing left to do. They had to smoke him. K'rar was muttering "smoke", hoping the men were of the same mind. They were. But it was too late, because the giant spotted the rising columns of smoke, and retraced his steps toward the entrance to the village. In one last gasp attempt at redeeming himself, the giant swung his club at one of the houses and smashed a fat hole in its side, and then bolted with giant leaps back into the night. The first men to come out of hiding were the ones who had burned the oleander. They extinguished it and pulled down their masks. The rest, including K'rar, joined them, and all were looking into the night where the giant had escaped, until someone broke the silence by saying, in a shaky voice,
'That is not a sight I want to see again.'
'If those things once sojourned this land…God help us if they do come down from that mountain as before.' said Bartle Frere.
'He looked so human to me, though,' said K'rar, 'I thought he'd be some sort of savage monster. He knew we were here.'
'He sniffed us,' said the man who had been closest to the giant, 'I think he knew we were too many for him to take on.'
The men engaged in a long talk about the Nephilim, and K'rar had to explain a lot of details he had read from the book, and refine the knowledge about the Nephilim to separate truth from fairy tale. At the end of almost forty minutes, there were still questions.
'Okay, but I gotta ask,' said the carpenter, the one known simply as Ki, 'didn't you say their policy was to abduct anyone that saw them?'
'I thought so.'
'Yeah,' said Drusus, 'but we were too many, and I think he knew we were ready for him.'
'Shit,' said the soldier called Ilmaz, suddenly sitting up straight and wearing a distraught face, 'he didn't try to fish us out. What if he went for back up?'
That suggestion sent shudders through the congregation, silencing them. And it was right on cue, because everyone immediately began to sense the presence of something else other than men and women.
And all hell broke loose.
First, there was an unmistakable approach of several Nephilim. They were not felling the houses or breaking anything, and the men in the Wattle soon found out why. About eight of them blocked all entrances and exits to the compound. One of them guarded the short fence, and this one was the original one. Some of the soldiers with bows reacted quickly and opened fire, but if they couldn't aim for the heads, their efforts were moot because the giants could just stick out their backs, and the arrows would just bounce off the thick furry clothing. Still, the Nephilim did not retaliate. They seemed to be interested in a particular target. K'rar had been huddled behind three soldiers, obviously on orders to protect him. He was concealed, and then everyone found out he was the target, when one of the giants bellowed, "the boy!", while shoving a soldier off a roof like he wasn't there. Many of the men cowered and didn't try to fight, and this giant bungled into the compound and spotted K'rar. K'rar was absolutely terrified when the giant puffed into Bartle Frere's face as a warning to get out of the way. Bartle Frere tried to be a hero, and was shoved aside too with brute force, so that he was hurled at least three meters away, but was unharmed. K'rar was now face to face with the fearsome beast of a man, who was stooping down on him. The giant then moved his hand and took K'rar by the legs. The entire bottom half of his body fit squarely in the giant's hand in a tight squeeze, and he was lifted off the ground with so much ease he felt like paper. Another giant came by, carrying a bunch of leaves from some plant. He mashed these between his palms and placed the stuff in K'rar's face. K'rar knew why before it happened. The last thing he knew was that he was in a pouch dangling on the back of the giant before the stuff knocked him out.