either. It was too many men for an envoy, and far too few to stand a chance against any decent-sized town, even one that had committed most of their defenders to the morning's battle.
Still, those troops were there for some reason, they were heading our way, and they weren't taking their time. The sooner we got higher up the Hunch and gained some decent cover the better.
There was, however, another more immediate consideration — and that was the severely bruised state of my arse. I'd taken to sitting backwards, with one leg slung down Saltlick's back and the other stretched behind his neck, my right arm bent behind to hold the pole, my left tangled in the netting, and my torso twisted round so I could see ahead. It had practical benefits, that I hadn't fallen off being the most obvious, but it was far from comfortable. I ached through every inch of my body, my fingers and toes throbbed with the pain of hanging on. My backside, though, had suffered worst. I'd convinced myself through mile after mile that it couldn't get any worse. My rump had been pounded into mince and that was that. For mile after mile, I'd been proved wrong.
Finally, I called through gritted teeth, 'Stop, Saltlick! Stop while there's still a chance I'll walk again someday.'
We were perhaps a third of the way up the Hunch, and the road was gently inclining. The fields of the lowlands had given way to small rock outcroppings, ragged bushes, and the occasional wiry tree jutting out from the red earth. The sun was at its apex and viciously hot, having burned away most of the morning's cloud over the last few hours. I was drenched in sweat, and Saltlick reeked, something like a horse but worse.
I cursed myself for not acquiring some supplies during our escape; a couple of skins of water, perhaps even some food. It wouldn't have been difficult. Saltlick could probably have dragged a whole cart without much loss of pace.
I eased myself down onto a ledge of rock beside the road, whimpering as my bruises made contact. I glanced at the column, which was now about half way between the camp and the beginning of the Hunch. It was still a fair distance, but I swore they'd closed the gap slightly over the last hour. It would have to be a short break.
'Have a rest, Saltlick,' I said. 'We've a long way to go yet.'
The giant grunted, marched over to one of the small trees, and snapped off a branch. He stripped the leaves with one ham-sized fist and crammed them into his mouth.
'Hey, don't eat that!'
He looked at me quizzically.
'That won't make you sick? Eating leaves?'
'Good,' he said, through a half-chewed mouthful.
'Well all right, you enjoy it then,' I said, a little peevishly. Saltlick wasn't about to starve, even if I was. At least I didn't have to worry about finding giantsized portions of food. I still intended to ditch him once I was certain we were in the clear, but in the meantime, I couldn't have him dropping dead beneath me.
Water would still be an issue. Even if he had the stomach of an ox, he was bound to need watering like any creature. That meant finding a village, assuming we couldn't divert back towards the river.
I didn't want to think about that right then, though. My mouth was drier than the rock I sat on and it was only getting hotter. I slipped the pouch out of its pocket instead. I hefted it in my hand, enjoying its weight. I took to toying with the drawstring, easing it apart by fractions, watching for glints from inside. Then, bored with tormenting myself, I opened it all the way and gazed again at its contents. A sigh parted my lips. I thought for a moment I might actually cry.
The pouch contained three things: a few onyx coins and a half-dozen coppers, enough money to buy a good horse or a week's hard drinking; a rock, dull brown striped with red, the size and shape of a flattened goose egg; and the biggest ruby I had ever seen.
The reason I wanted to cry was that it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on and I knew I couldn't keep it. The most valuable haul of my life, worth more than all the others put together, and it was practically worthless. No fence in the Castoval would give me a hundredth of its value, especially if they had the faintest inkling where I'd acquired it. It was too valuable to risk keeping on my person for long. Common sense demanded I get rid of it, and the sooner the better.
Just thinking about it made my heart want to break.
I drew the pouch shut, replaced it, and turned my attention back to Saltlick, who was still absorbed in feeding from the now almost naked tree. My initial estimate of his height — the same as two tall men — had been about right. His proportions were basically human, though his arms were longer, and they and his legs were stockier. He was splendidly ugly: his head was very round, with a wide rectangular jaw, large oval eyes, and an almost comically small nose. His skin was pale, faintly grey, and he was mostly hairless, with only a few feathery tufts sprouting from the dome of his skull. There was something appealing in his expression that I hadn't really noticed before, a certain good-natured idiocy. I wondered again what Moaradrid could possibly have done to convince such formidable yet docile creatures to fight his battles for him. It was hard to imagine anything that could be used to manipulate a whole mob of giants.
'Saltlick,' I said, 'how are you feeling?'
He gave an exaggerated nod. 'Good.'
'You think you can run some more?'
'Run all day.' An entire tree's worth of leaves clearly constituted a decent lunch for a giant.
'Well, I'm starting to consider surrendering for a cup of water. We should get going.'
• • • •
I mainly occupied myself through the long afternoon by searching for a more comfortable position on Saltlick's broad shoulder. I tried kneeling, squatting, sitting forward with my legs dangling over his chest, and even — briefly and almost disastrously — standing. Nothing met with any success. I still hurt more with each jogged step.
In between bouts of wriggling, I tried to divert myself in more productive ways. I noted how the scenery of the Hunch became more rocky and wild as we travelled nearer the summit. I listened for any sound of nearby water, though if there was any it was drowned by Saltlick's drumming feet. Primarily, my attention was absorbed by the distant figures creeping along the road behind us.
I lost sight of them when they reached the base of the Hunch. I was certain by then that they were gaining on us. I'd been able at the last to make out details I was sure had been invisible before. Even if they weren't concerned with us, that was bound to change if they'd seen us or heard any hint of a giant wandering loose through the countryside. What if I ditched Saltlick, and put as much distance between him and me as possible? The plan had some appeal, until I envisaged myself trying to evade a hundred armed horsemen alone and on foot. No, until I found an alternate mode of transport the giant was my safest bet. The fact that he was also a beacon for my enemies was something I'd just have to accept.
We broke the brow of the Hunch before sunset. It was highest there on its north side, and I could see most of the plateau stretched before me. It was a drab expanse of browned grass, more scrub trees and wilting bushes, broken by long scars of exposed white rock, with occasionally a cactus standing sentinel over some patch of stony earth. To the east, it sloped to higher ground, and eventually to the mountains. The view ahead continued at a slight decline for a few miles, before the abrupt drop of the south slope back toward the floor of the Castoval.
Southeast, in the distance, I could just make out Muena Palaiya. I hadn't given much thought to a goal, but Muena Palaiya, the nearest large town, was a definite possibility. I had friends there. Well, one anyway, and though I was dubious about how much help I could expect from him, it was an option at least. Those seemed to be getting scarcer as the day wore on.
Anyway, we wouldn't be reaching Muena Palaiya that night. Nearer, there were any number of small villages dotted about, their cream-coloured walls glowing amber in the early evening sun, standing out brightly against the parched landscape. I couldn't expect any charity there. Past indiscretions would earn me a beating on sight in one or two of them. But nor could I go on much longer without food and water.
'Saltlick, do you see that village?' I pointed out the nearest.
He angled his neck to follow my finger and grunted in accord.
'Head towards it. There should be a fork coming up on the left.'
Sure enough, barely a mile had passed before the road split. The way we'd been on continued along the western brink of the Hunch, offering a view of the Casto Mara tumbling below. The other branch curved inward, towards the mountains. Saltlick followed my instructions. We trekked for a while through wild scenery of jagged rocks and short, knotty trees. The sun was a crimson mound spilling behind the horizon. As the last light began to fade, we turned a corner between short cliffs of flaking orange mud and found ourselves on the edge of the
