Joash smiled, hoping to understand Elidad and maybe get his hands on the emeralds. He was appalled that the warrior could tell he liked Adah. But that wasn’t important now. Somehow, he had to free the others from the baleful magic.
“I knew from the beginning that Lord Uriah came here because of a hidden purpose.” Elidad took his hand away and snorted, “Capture steppe ponies and sell them to the Lords of Caphtor. Hah. A ploy. A story for the simple-minded.” He nudged Joash with his elbow. “But Elidad, son of Joha, is no fool, eh? I asked myself, ‘Why does Lord Uriah travel to Giant Land? If to gather steppe ponies, why not send Herrek or another champion? Why would the Patriarch, the very heart of Elon, risk himself in Giant Land?’ Ah, I knew Uriah plotted bigger.” Elidad tapped the leopard-skin pouch. “Here is the hidden purpose, treasure untold, treasure to make a man rich beyond reckoning.” Elidad leaned closer, the smell of tea on his breath. “Treasure enough so a man could leave his clan and set out on his own. Maybe enough to build his own clan. Yes, I knew and was the first to join the adventure. Now my foresight has been rewarded.”
Joash swallowed uneasily.
“This is a barren land,” Elidad said, eyeing Joash closely. “It would be easy to become lost here.”
“True.”
“But two men with two chariots could easily transverse it.”
“Loaded with emeralds?” Joash whispered.
Elidad slapped Joash on the back. Then he stepped close and turned his back toward the others. He clutched Joash’s throat. Dry, evil menace filled Elidad’s voice. “Dare to tell the others about my words, I’ll call you a liar, and drive my sword through your heart. Dare to try to thwart me from my treasure, or to steal from me, and I’ll stake you to the steppes and drive bison over you. Do you understand?”
Joash could barely nod.
“Good.” Elidad released his hold, smiled, and patted him on the back. “You’re a wise lad. I like you. Make certain you remain a man of your word.”
Joash rubbed his throat, bewildered. The emeralds’ baleful power was driving them mad, making their deepest desires come bubbling to the fore. What should he do?
“Groom?” Elidad asked, suspiciously.
Joash looked into the bloodshot eyes. “You can depend on me, Warrior. I’ll do everything I must.”
“Splendid,” Elidad said.
They walked to the fire. Herrek quietly set aside his sharpening tools, Gens bundled his birch-bark, and Adah rolled the map and stuck it in her sash. They boarded the chariots and headed toward the hills.
They didn’t stop until the sun sank into the distant horizon, and the stars appeared. The stars shined brightly in the clear air. Far off to the east the half-moon rose. Dire wolves howled. Sabertooths roared. The distant thunder of hooves told of a chase. Joash waited as he rubbed oil into a pair of reins, hoping to hear the trumpet of mammoths. Instead he heard the creak of boot-leather and the soft chink of chainmail.
He turned.
Herrek stood beside him. The warrior held onto his spear and shield, looking longingly at the dark hills. He wore his helmet, the nasal-guard snug over his nose. Herrek blew out his cheeks impatiently.
Joash saw Adah laying on her bedroll. Koton stood beside her, yawning. Gens withdrew dung from the dung-sack and tossed it into the fire. It stank, but it gave them a flame. All day long Joash had been filling the sack with dried bison chips. Elidad already snored, his body between the parked chariots.
“I long to meet them,” Herrek said softly.
Joash folded the reins and capped the oil flask.
Herrek glanced at him. “Are you ready, Groom?”
“Warrior?”
“Are you ready to face the evil foe?”
“Nephilim?”
Herrek grunted, shifting his hold on the oblong shield.
“Do you think giants will be at the cave?”
“They must be there.” Herrek looked longingly at the dark hills. “I came to Giant Land to challenge the enemy. I knew that something of this sort must be in my great, great grandfather’s heart. He’s a cunning man. He does not leave the center of his kingdom to chase after illusionary quests. Therefore I was honored when he chose me to be his champion.” Herrek expanded his chest. “Elidad spoke with you before, no doubt encouraging you to be bold. I, too, challenge you to face the enemy as you did Balak when you charged him. Hold your spear with courage. Thrust the spear-point at his eyes. Make him blink. Make him turn away.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Herrek gave him a quizzical glance.
“I-I haven’t been trained yet, Lord.”
Herrek stepped back and lifting his shield. In a smooth motion he reversed his grip on the spear and held it over his shoulder in the casting position. “Notice how I balance the spear.”
Joash did.
“Hold your spear likewise.”
Joash tried. The spearhead dipped.
“No! Find the balance point, where neither end wavers.”
Joash finally got it.
“Now heave!” Herrek hurled his spear. It flashed into the darkness. With a roar he drew his blade and bounded after the spear. In moments, Herrek stood beside him again. He breathed heavily. “In a like manner, I will charge the hated enemy.”
Joash stood motionless, the spear still over his shoulder. Herrek never bragged nor tried to overawe him. Perhaps, though, in the depths of his heart, this is how Herrek saw himself: a fierce warrior, a champion of Clan Teman, of Elon. But did Herrek really believe he could slay giants by himself?
“Cast your weapon. Let the lesson begin.”
It wasn’t until the half-moon was high in the sky that Herrek let him quit. Joash’s arm was sore, although his throwing technique had improved. It was a lot like javelin throwing, except you had to put your body into the cast more and snap your arm just so. As he lay down Joash glanced at Herrek. The tall warrior strode around the camp. Joash hoped he would tire in time to catch some sleep. But maybe Herrek was too eager to lie down. Then, Joash recalled the emeralds. Now would be the perfect time to try to steal them.
“Psst!”
Joash turned and saw Elidad staring at him. The bear-like warrior seemed to be judging him. At last Elidad smiled and nodded good night.
Countless worries gnawed Joash, not the least that somehow Elidad could sense or read his thoughts. But the day’s activities had wearied him. He fell into troubled slumber. It was filled with bad dreams. Joash shivered himself awake later, rose, and threw more dung onto the fire. The night was cold and filled with menacing sounds. Gens crouched near the chariot, his spear ready. Herrek slept with his armor and weapons beside him. Elidad had a blanket thrown over his shoulders. Joash stealthily stepped in the bear-like warrior’s direction. Elidad groaned. Joash stepped closer. Elidad’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Joash pretended to stumble and made his way back to his bedroll. He stared up at the stars for a long time before he finally fell asleep again.
“Wake up,” Elidad said, toeing Joash’s shoulder.
Joash opened bleary eyes. It was still dark, although the hidden sun painted the horizon with streaks of red. Somewhere in the distance a steppe stallion neighed.
“Get up,” Elidad said. “Hitch the horses.”
“It’s still dark.”
Elidad shrugged, the motion evident by the clink of chainmail.
Sleep drugged Joash. Elidad toed him again. With a groan Joash sat up. His right arm and side were sore, his legs tired. Shivering, he pulled on his leathers and sleepily rolled his blanket. He stowed it in the chariot, then went to the fire, splashed his face with water, rubbed his eyes, and drank a scalding cup of tea. He chewed on salted herring, warmed his hands by the fire, and finally dragged himself to the stallions. Gens whistled as he hitched Galay and Geirrod, while Herrek paced impatiently. Even Adah seemed well rested. She brushed Koton with swift strokes.