“But I’m your bodyguard!” the scout objected. “I can’t leave without you.”
“Well, you certainly can’t leave with me,” Brianna countered. “I’m not stealthy enough to sneak past all those giants. Besides, our only hope of saving Cuthbert Castle is speed, and you’ll move faster alone.”
“But if the giants storm the castle, you could be captured,” the scout objected. “I wouldn’t be here.”
He didn’t need to say why he needed to be present. They all knew what he was to do if the giants captured the queen.
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take.” Brianna stared into the scout’s eyes with a look of utter trust “But you’ll be back long before that comes to pass-and if I’m wrong, I have every confidence that you’ll track me down and put your golden arrow to good use.”
Tavis shook his head. “My place is at your side.”
“Not right now.” Brianna looked up at Basil. “Why don’t you and the others see what’s on the other side of the keep?”
The verbeeg frowned in confusion. “I’m sure we’ll find nothing but more-”
Avner grabbed the hem of the runecaster’s cloak. “Come along, Basil. It won’t hurt to check.”
The youth pulled the verbeeg toward the far wall, with Cuthbert and Arlien following close behind.
Once the others were gone, Tavis said, “You know I can’t leave your side, Brianna.”
“Why not?” A mocking smile crossed the queen’s lips. “Are you afraid to leave me alone with Arlien?”
Tavis knew better than to deny the charge. Like all firbolgs, he found it all but impossible to lie. The strain of uttering false words would cause his voice to crack, he would break out in a cold sweat, and his guilty conscious would not let him sleep for a week.
“My reluctance is due to more than Arlien,” he said. His voice almost cracked. “If the giants capture you, tracking them down may not be as easy as you think. And I’ve never loosed an arrow against someone I love. My aim might not be true.”
Brianna took his hand and squeezed it. “Your aim would be dead-on-I know,” she said. “And you mustn’t worry about Arlien. I have no feelings for him.”
“Does that mean you won’t marry him?”
“What difference would that make?” Brianna asked. “It’s you I love.”
“It would make a difference to me.”
“Well, I’m certainly not making any wedding plans until I’m out of here.” Brianna gave him playful smile.
Tavis would not let her dodge his question. “But you would, if you thought marrying him was best for Hartsvale.”
Brianna’s smile vanished, but she did not look away. “If that’s what I thought, yes.” The queen’s voice grew stern, and she released his hand. “And Tavis, you must also do what I think is best for Hartsvale.”
The scout closed his eyes and nodded. “I know,” he said. “But it isn’t easy, my queen. I’m only a firbolg.”
3
Brianna held the lantern while Cuthbert fumbled with his tangled loop of keys. The queen and her plump earl stood before the iron-clad door to the keep’s lowest sub-basement, with the rest of their small party waiting behind them. The ceiling here was low, forcing the tall queen to stoop over the lamp. The fumes rising from its glass chimney were rancid and mordant, and she knew her hair would smell of burning lard when the time came to sleep. That was fine. As weary as she was, no odor in the land would keep her awake-her racing thoughts or sick heart, perhaps, but no mere odor.
“I hope this won’t take much longer, Earl.” Brianna glared down at Cuthbert’s stubby fingers, which continued to fumble through his rat’s nest of keys. “The idea is to catch the giants napping, and Tavis has a long swim ahead.”
Cuthbert finally found the right key. He slipped it into the lock, then gave Brianna a reassuring smile. “I promise you, the time is well spent,” he said. “Tavis will reach the shore in the Cold Hours, just as we planned.”
The earl turned the key and led the way through the low doorway. Brianna ducked under the lintel and followed, with Tavis, Avner, and Basil close behind. Arlien was sleeping in his room-at least he was supposed to be. The good prince did not seem to realize that wounded men needed rest, for he had stayed up well past midnight to help prepare the castle’s defenses. The queen certainly admired his stamina and devotion to duty, but his judgment was another matter. If he didn’t get some rest soon, even his enchanted armor would not save him.
As Brianna’s lamp cast its flickering light over the low room, Basil cried, “A library!”
The gloomy chamber seemed a jumbled contrast to Castle Hartwick’s Royal Archives, where Basil kept two thousand volumes neatly ordered by title and content. Here, the books sat on the floor in knee-high stacks, spilled from open trunks, or lay agape on rough-hewn tables. In spite of the disarray, the spines of the tomes were in good condition, no pages were dog-eared, and open volumes were never piled atop each other.
Earl Cuthbert stopped a few steps inside the room. “I must ask you to follow my steps exactly,” he said. “I don’t allow the servants down here, so things are a bit cluttered. It wouldn’t do to have you tripping over my books.”
“Not at all,” agreed Basil. “We wouldn’t want to break a spine or rip a page.”
As the earl started across the room, Brianna heard Tavis whisper to the verbeeg, “Keep your hands at your sides, my friend. I don’t want you pawing Cuthbert’s books.”
“But there are so many volumes,” the runecaster objected. “There must be titles we don’t have in the Royal Archives.”
Brianna paused, sensing the potential for catastrophe. Like most verbeegs, Basil had little respect for private property. He also had a pronounced fondness for books. The queen did not want a repeat of the first time she had lain eyes on him, when she had found him in Tavis’s barn with a cache of stolen books lying at his feet
“Basil, do as Tavis says.” Brianna glanced over her shoulder to emphasize her command. The ceiling was so low that both giant-kin had to stoop over. “If you so much as open a cover without the earl’s permission, I’ll have you thrown into the lake.”
Basil looked at the stone floor. “Yes, Milady.”
“Is there a problem back there?” called Cuthbert He was already halfway across the room.
“Nothing to worry about, Earl,” Brianna replied. “We’re coming now.”
The queen caught up to Cuthbert and followed him on a zigzag course to an arched doorway on the other side of the room. As they passed through, she was amazed to discover that the earl’s library spilled into this chamber as well, but the books here were of a strange sort. The volumes were as big as serving trays, bound by fine copper wire, and covered with thin slabs of granite. They had pages of black mica, but there did not seem to be any kind of writing on the ebony, at least not in the volumes that Brianna saw lying open.
From the back of the line, Basil gasped, “Biotite folios!”
Brianna looked back to see the verbeeg kneeling at a table, running his index finger down the glistening black page of a book. A column of glowing symbols appeared wherever he touched, changing from ruby red to emerald green and sapphire blue before the queen’s eyes. The figures were as large as a human hand, with delicate loops and scrupulously curved arches.
The queen was about to utter a sharp reprimand when Cuthbert slipped past her. The earl stopped at Basil’s side and gave him a condescending smile. “I didn’t know verbeegs read Stone Giant.”
“The written language is properly referred to as Metamorpherie, and not many verbeegs do read it” Basil did not even look up as he corrected the earl. “However, I’m one of the few who do, and quite well. I’ll be glad to teach you.”
The patronizing grin vanished from Cuthbert’s face. “I’m doing quite well on my own, thank you.” The earl slipped his hand under the folio’s front cover, then grunted with effort as he heaved the granite slab off the table. Basil barely pulled his hand away before the heavy plate slammed down, closing the book. “But we are in a hurry to see Tavis off. Shall we continue?”