despairing. They will despair, too,” he said. “If you let that-”
“I know what will happen, Prince.”
“Then you also know you must be cheerful and strong to prevent it,” Arlien insisted. He stepped away from Brianna and ran his gaze over the room. “Where is the necklace?”
Instead of responding, Brianna looked out her window, this time studying the soldiers on the walls below. They were stockpiling boulders next to the catapults, hoisting oil barrels onto the ramparts, soaking wooden roofs with lake water, and performing all the other tasks necessary to prepare a castle for battle. Most seemed grimly absorbed in their duties, but every so often a man would cast an uneasy glance up at the queen. When he returned to work, his shoulders were invariably stooped.
Brianna stepped away from her window. “Thank you for having the courage to point out my failure, Prince Arlien,” she said. “But at this time, it would be wrong for me to wear your wonderful necklace. After all, you did tell Tavis you wouldn’t press me for an alliance until he returned.”
“And Tavis told me that we would all do what’s best for our kingdoms,” Arlien reminded her. “But the necklace is a symbol of friendship, not a wedding gift.”
“No matter how you intend it, my subjects would view the necklace as a symbol of betrothal.”
Arlien inclined his head. “I’m sure you know your subjects better than I do.” He went to the table and picked up the steaming mugs, handing one to Brianna. “But even if you don’t need Gilthwit’s ice diamonds, you do need your strength. You’ll find this drink invigorating. It’s a specialty of my land.”
Brianna accepted the cup. “Thank you,” she said. “I could use some fortification before I inspire the troops.”
The queen touched her rim to Arlien’s, then they both drank deeply. The beverage tasted of spices and fruit, with just a hint of honey and wine, and it was every bit as invigorating as the prince had promised. As the libation slid down her throat, a warm, exhilarating sense of well-being spread through her body. At the same time, she realized how famished she was, for she had not eaten all day and felt a little light-headed.
Brianna sat at the table and pulled the tray over. “Perhaps I’d better eat something before I go.”
Arlien sat across from her. “A wise idea,” he said. “As it happens, I wanted to discuss something else with you.”
Brianna slipped an apple wedge into her mouth, then took another long swig from her mug. “As long as you’re not courting me.” She had to stifle an unexpected giggle. “We mustn’t break our promise to my bodyguard.”
Arlien reached across the table to pat her hand. “Oh, we’d never do that,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I bring this up because of something he asked of me.”
Brianna slipped a pear half into her mouth, then raised her mug to her lips again. It seemed the more she ate, the thirstier she grew, and the more she drank, the hungrier she became. The queen took a cherry off the plate and popped it into her mouth. “What did my bodyguard ask?”
Arlien looked at the tabletop. “It has to do with Cuthbert,” he said in a reluctant tone. “Tavis suggested I keep an eye on him, and, frankly, what I’ve seen amazes me. The man’s either a fool or a traitor.”
Brianna stopped short of slipping another apple wedge into her mouth. “I can assure you, he’s neither.”
“Then perhaps you’d care to tell me why he’s positioning the catapults on the ramparts overlooking the lake and putting the ballistae in the gatehouse?”
“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Brianna replied. She slipped the apple wedge into her mouth and chewed, annoyed with both Arlien and her bodyguard for so constantly assailing Cuthbert’s honor. “Perhaps we should go and ask him.”
Arlien was quick to shake his head. “I already have,” he growled. “He uttered some drivel about a collapsing bridge and ballistae missiles being more effective in the water.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Brianna reached for her mug and discovered it was empty, but Arlien quickly pushed his own over to her. “His explanation sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”
“Perhaps, if we couldn’t see the giants building rafts.” Arlien pointed to the window. “But it looks to me like they’re too smart to attack across that bridge.”
“I don’t know if you’ve spent much time with hill giants, but I have,” Brianna replied. “They aren’t smart”
“Maybe not, but whoever’s commanding them is,” Arlien countered. “And he’s certainly wise enough to know a competent engineer would trap Cuthbert’s bridge.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Brianna replied. She lifted Arlien’s mug to her lips, but restrained herself to a few sips. It had occurred to her that her sudden show of thirst might seem unladylike to the prince. “What would you do, Prince, and why?”
Arlien rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, fixing his brown eyes on hers. Brianna’s gaze wandered over the prince’s cleft chin, full lips, and patrician nose, and she was surprised to find herself silently thanking the King of Gilthwit for sending a handsome son to court her.
The prince touched his graceful finger to the tabletop and traced a line that roughly paralleled the ramparts facing the hill giants. “I would place the ballistae here, where they command the water approaches,” he said. “And I would soak the missile heads in oil, so that we can set them afire. That will do more to stop the giants’ rafts than hurling boulders at them.”
“And what of the bridge?” Brianna asked. She sipped some more of the prince’s libation.
“I would use the catapults to cover it,” he said. “If the giants are foolish enough to try that approach, the boulders will keep them in the water after the bridge collapses.”
“If that’s what you think, that’s what we’ll do.” Brianna drained Arlien’s mug, then rose to her feet and started toward the door. “I’ll go tell the earl.”
“Good,” Arlien said. He did not rise. “And you know what else I think, Brianna?”
The queen stopped and turned to look at the prince. He was so handsome-blurry, but handsome. “No, I don’t,” she said. “How could I know that?”
Arlien smiled, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. “I think you should put on my necklace,” he said. “I don’t see how there can be any harm in wearing it while we’re alone, do you?”
Brianna considered this for a moment, searching for the flaw in the prince’s logic. She could sense that there was something wrong in his assertion, but her mind was too clouded-damn wine-to identify what was bothering her. She went over to her trunk and reached inside to open the secret compartment.
The gorge ahead was definitely the entrance to Shepherd’s Nightmare, and even from the distant edge of a spruce copse, Tavis could see that the giants had beaten him to it The small farm at the mouth of the canyon, so carefully detailed on Earl Cuthbert’s map, lay in ruins. All three buildings had been pushed off their stone foundations and smashed beyond recognition. The livestock lay scattered across the trampled fields in bloody heaps of fur and bone, and the small stream that flowed out of the valley above now boiled over the remnants of a smashed dam.
This isn’t war, Tavis thought. It’s mayhem, brutal and vicious.
It was also the end of any hope that the siege against Cuthbert Castle would be quickly relieved. If the giants knew about Shepherd’s Nightmare, and it was apparent they did, they would certainly take pains to guard the pass. Tavis would never be able to bring an army back through, at least not without a difficult battle. Such a delay would give the giants plenty of time to storm the castle and capture Brianna.
Tavis slipped out of the pine copse and went forward to investigate the farm more thoroughly. The scout discovered the first human corpses in the pasture. The farmer and his three helpers had made their stand behind the wall, but stacked stones offered little protection from a giant’s incredible strength. The men had been knocked various distances across the bloody heath, and now lay twisted and broken beneath droning clouds of flies. Still, as the scout kneeled briefly beside each body, he could tell that all four had died bravely. They had fired every arrow in their quivers, and near each man lay a sword or farm axe he had probably been swinging as he had fallen.
In the soft pasture, Tavis also found the giants’ tracks. There were only two sets, both too large for hill giants, with a narrow span and long, graceful toes. The scout thought immediately of stone or fire giants, but ruled out both. Fire giants would have burned the farm, while stone giants took no pleasure in pointless cruelty. The only thing he could say for certain was that the tracks were too small for fog giants or-thankfully-storm and cloud giants.
