‘Are you going to tell Anfen I lied?’
‘Not if you massage my shoulders.’ She wasn’t joking, he saw, as she planted herself in front of him and loosed the shirt about her neck.
He worked his thumbs into the knots and tension of her shoulders and neck. He took it no further, not here while they were on watch duty, though he itched to reach around and squeeze her to him, and had an odd feeling she would allow that much, at least.
‘I also know you have a weapon,’ she whispered. ‘I learned it at the hilltop and I think I’ve seen it. What is it?’
‘It’s called a gun.’ He took it out of its holster and showed her.
She held it. ‘But this is small. Is it powerful?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘How is it enchanted?’
‘It’s not. It shoots out a small piece of metal very, very fast. Much faster than your arrows. Don’t tell them about it please, not yet.’
‘If you carry it to protect us, I won’t.’
‘Of course I do. I have a feeling it would take care even of a war mage, if it had to.’
When his hands were too tired to go on kneading her shoulders, she turned to face him with her legs apart, reached into his pants, took hold of his penis with no ceremony at all and tugged it until he came, which didn’t take long. She did it with about as much passion as a farmer milking a cow. ‘You can perhaps relax a little, now,’ she said, ‘and think more of the dangers around us, less about me.’
He laughed. ‘It’s a deal.’
They said little more for the rest of the watch. He jumped every time something scuttled through undergrowth or flew with swooping wings from a high branch, but soon enough it was time to wake Case and Anfen, then, all too soon, time to rise and set out again.
As they put some distance behind them, the forest floor gave way like a balding scalp to the dark grey rock beneath. Ridges of it battled with the forest for turf. The place felt like distant, remote wilderness, the middle of nowhere; there was no sign of human habitation, no ruins or beaten paths.
Loup, who’d been in a foul mood all morning since they’d asked him to bless the biscuits they had for breakfast (he’d refused), finally perked up at the sight of rocky cliffs, and bounded towards them without a word, gesturing frantically for Eric to follow him.
Anfen, displeased, halted the rest of the company. ‘Loup! Don’t get my Pilgrim killed, and don’t be long.’
Loup held Eric’s arm and practically dragged him down a steep slope to the tallest part of a sheer wall of stone, out of sight of Anfen and the rest. The old magician held his palms to the flat wall, muttering, ‘Somewhere round here, bound to be one. Bound to be. This far from cities and the road, oh aye! No one to bother him out here, he’ll reckon he’s safe. There’ll be one: cranky, old and lazy.’
Part of the cliff face bulged outwards, and it was here that Loup stopped. ‘Here! Here’s one! Now let’s wake him up.’ He stood some way back from the bulge and threw small stones at it. ‘Back here, Eric. You won’t see him from right close. We got a stoneflesh golem here! Ho boy, this far north’s a rare treat. Didn’t think we’d actually find a live one!’
Only from back where Loup stood did Eric see the network of cracks and neat cleaves vaguely forming a squarish head. Two holes set wide apart made its eyes; its mouth was a jagged tilted slit above a bulging grey chin. If the rest of its body were below, it had merged with the cliff. ‘Wake up, you ugly fat thing!’ Loup called. ‘Got a job for you! Wake up! Eric, throw stones at him. Big ones.’
Eric picked up some loose rocks and underarmed them at the rock-man.
‘Hey now, don’t hit its face!’ said Loup. ‘Aim lower down. Slow to anger, these are. But make it too mad and we’ll have problems. Hey you! Wake up!’
There was a grinding sound. The mouth-line shifted sideways, grains of crushed stone falling like sand from either corner. ‘Good! It’s awake,’ said Loup. ‘Now. Here. Your scales. Where are they?’
Eric handed him all four. ‘What’ve you got in mind?’
‘You’ll see. This golem’s going to help us out.’
Anfen’s voice carried over to them: ‘Hurry up, you two.’
‘Almost done!’ Loup yelled back. ‘Eh, him and his rules. You, golem! I got a job for you. But I don’t think you’re strong enough for it.’ The mouth sawed sideways again, grinding more powdered rock. ‘Ohh he’s cranky now!’ whispered Loup. ‘You gotta insult em, make em want to prove emselves. You, golem! I got a job if you prove your strength! Which you won’t. Weakling! Weak as my mother’s pudding, rest her heart. Seen mud puddles stronger’n you. What reward d’you seek? Eh? Speak up!’
The jaw jerked around again with a spray of ground rock. Eric heard and understood: ‘Sleep,’ its voice like gravel scattering across the ground.
‘What’d he say?’ said Loup.
‘He said sleep.’
‘Aha! Wants to be left alone!’ To the golem, ‘Well, you can help us out first, then we’re gone. You don’t help us, we stay here all day, pestering you. Show us your palm, you fatso. Go on!’
A ripple of cracks wormed up the rock wall, outlining a slab of stone with a round fist at its end. The fist uncurled, the palm open, its fingers fat rectangles of stone. Loup ran forwards, placed Eric’s black scale on its palm, then said, ‘Go! Crush that up, you weakling! Show us what you’re made of.’
‘My scale!’
‘Oh aye, she’s a rare one,’ said Loup with a grin.
Eric darted to retrieve the scale but the golem made a fist. There was a loud cracking noise, then a sound like glass being slowly crunched by a boot. The golem’s eye holes peered out expressionlessly.
Loup pulled a soft leather pouch from his pocket and held it to collect the black powder running through the golem’s fingers. ‘Get it all,’ he said urgently. ‘There, a few grains dropped down. Get em! Quickly.’
The golem’s palm opened. Loup dusted the dark powder from it. ‘Sleep,’ the golem repeated. Its arm still stuck out from the cliff face.
‘It’ll stay like that till who knows how long,’ said Loup happily. ‘He’ll forget to put it back, you watch.’ To the golem, ‘Very strong, you are. I was wrong. All right, you go back to bed. Back to your dreaming about stones, stones, stones.’ To Eric, ‘That’s about the only way to crush up scales I know of. Oh aye, strong ones are those stonefleshes!’ Loup handed him the pouch. ‘Wait till we camp. Hopefully we get a day up our sleeve soon. That’d be best. Then we’ll see a thing or two with that crushed-up scale.’
‘Thanks, I guess.’
‘Spare me a pinch and it’s no bother, no bother at all.’
A very impatient-looking Anfen gestured for the company to get up. ‘After that little excursion, you owe me a tasty lunch, my friend,’ he said to Loup.
‘Ahh, I’ll bless your lunch.’ Loup flashed his gums. ‘Stoneflesh, over yonder! Small one, but he was strong as his big old cousins at World’s End. Oh, aye.’
30
At last it seemed the march was over. Alone in a stony field before them was a large, one-storey wooden house with several barns behind it. In the yard, a well-muscled middle-aged man bent over the ground with a bucket in hand, digging roots from the ground. He saw them approach and stared as though at peculiar beasts; it was clear this many visitors was not a common thing. Then he recognised Anfen and raised an arm in greeting. ‘Faul! It’s safe. He’s back,’ the man called to the house.
Footsteps seemed to rattle the whole house and a huge voice boomed out the door. ‘WHO?’
‘Anfen. And friends. New friends.’
‘I DON’T THINK SO!’ the voice shot out. It was a woman’s. ‘TELL EM, NO FURTHER! ANFEN CAN COME. I’LL MEET THE REST OUT THERE.’
‘No need for me to tell them,’ said the man with a shrug. ‘They heard you.’