The Giants’ Dance. Robert Goldthwaite Carter

not?’

      ‘It’s said they got a poison bite on them!’

      ‘I’ll bet that’s a lot of nonsense too!’

      Inside the tower a few floorboards were still clinging to the beams and three broken and rotting staircases led precariously from one level to the next. Will had to be helped up to the first floor, but then he climbed alone, walking with arms outstretched along the beams, testing his footing with care as he went. Birds had nested here and the rain of several winters had made the walls mossy. When he reached the top he saw marks that showed how the roof of the tower had been deliberately broken with axes and hammers. He looked down from what seemed now to be a dizzying height, and began to edge out along the bare parapet. At last he came to the place where the iron chain was wedged tight in a crevice of the stonework. One of the creature’s ankles was shut in an iron trap, and the ring on the chain that dangled from the trap was fixed through a staple in the masonry.

      He wiped the sweat from his eyes and tried not to look down. The sooner he did what he had come to do the better it would be. But when the creature found that he had come close to it, it began to screech. It had big eyes, a broad muzzle and a wide mouth with many needlelike teeth. Its grey fur was threadbare, and its lips were bloodied, which gave it an even more monstrous appearance.

      ‘Naaw! Naaaw!’ it cried, and tried again to escape, but it could not bite through the chain, nor was it strong enough to pull the ring free, no matter how it tugged.

      ‘Stop flapping, you foolish beast. There, now,’ he murmured, trying to gentle it. ‘Can’t you see you’re only hurting yourself?’

      ‘Naaw! Naaaw!’ the thing cried back.

      Balancing on top of the parapet was difficult. The masons who had built the tower had made castellations on top, perhaps so that princely armies marching by would believe it was part of a great fortification and so leave it alone. Will sat astride the battlement and inched along the wall. His left leg overhung a sheer drop every bit as far down as the ground beneath the curfew tower at Verlamion. When he came to the iron ring he found it was made fast, and was too strong to break.

      He thought about using a spell, but he had no knowledge of the creature’s true name, nor could he say how magic would work upon it. There’s no alternative but to speak calmly to it, he thought, and to try, bit by bit, to tempt it in.

      ‘Naaaw!’ it screamed when he put his hand on the chain.

      There was no trust in the fragile creature. It pulled against his efforts, obstinately hurting itself, and he worried that he might break its leg if he were to pull too hard. It was already in pain, for the rusty teeth of the trap had bitten deep.

      ‘How long have you been here?’ he asked, leaning out as far as he could. ‘You poor little thing. Are you hungry? I wish I’d brought a sausage or two for you. That might have tempted you down, eh? And by the looks of you you’re parched too. I’ve never seen such a depth of mistrust in any beast. Where did you learn that? Now, if I can only reach out and…’

      But when he stretched out his hand towards the trap the creature flapped in a renewed frenzy. It flew at him, and scratched him with its slender claws.

      ‘Steady…I’m not going to hurt you,’ he muttered, drawing away.

      His outstretched fingers trembled as he tried to reach the trap, and perhaps turn it over a little to see how the mechanism worked and how the iron teeth might be parted, but the creature took fright once more. Terror flashed in its eyes. It hissed and lunged, and then sank its teeth into his hand.

      A sharp pain shot through him. He stifled a yell, but then the creature pulled back, jerking furiously on the chain in another vain effort to pull itself free. Its claws began to scrabble horribly against the stone, and then it flattened itself on the wall. It shut its eyes and made a horrible face, freezing in an outstretched pose in a last senseless effort to deceive the hunter by playing the gargoyle.

      ‘Come on! Let’s be sensible now,’ Will said. ‘We both know you’re not a stone carving.’

      He hung on to the chain even though he felt the fingers of his other hand sliding. Fear of falling froze him, put a rod of steel in his arm. He summoned the power to ignore pain and the strength of three men to slowly drag himself back. His braids brushed his cheek, and as he came upright he found he was shaking.

      ‘I’m only here to help you, you stupid creature,’ he said. There was blood on his fingers where the ingrate had bitten him. Drops of blood pooled at the wound and began to run in red lines down his arm as he watched. Blood dripped from his elbow into the void below.

      He was dimly aware of upturned faces as Duffred and the other folk watched him. He hoped Duffred’s claim about a poison bite was empty.

      ‘Those folks down there think I’m either very brave,’ he told the frozen creature, ‘or very foolish. I’m not sure myself which it is. What do you think?’

      But the beast was not listening.

      ‘Magician, heal thyself!’ he said, and laughed at the irony. So much healing had come from his hands just lately, yet he could do nothing for himself.

      ‘That’s how magic works, I’m afraid,’ he said, looking hard at the beast. Then he realized that nothing his magic could do was likely to be worse than the injuries he would end up with by fighting the creature’s stubbornness headon.

      There was nothing for it but to use a spell of great magic. He resettled himself on the wall like a man astride a horse. He put his hands together and summoned up his inner calm. After all the practice of yesterday a magical state of mind came to him easily and he felt the tingling in his skin begin to rise in waves. Then he fixed his attention on the chain.

      He began to blow on it. Hot breath, hotter as it left his lips, hotter still as it played on the iron chain link. Soon the rusted iron began to glow a deep cherry red. The red intensified until it was glowing yellow and then white. Will put two fingers through the link and opened it easily.

      When magic snaps, best beware the afterclap!

      Will recalled the rede only just in time as the effort of the spell broke back against him. It was like a fall from a great height. Darkness closed in on him very suddenly. For a moment he was in a faint, then his thoughts seemed to move outside his head, and he was looking down at an unconscious fool who sat astride a battlement with two pieces of chain clasped in unfeeling hands.

      But as the chain swung free the creature’s eyes opened. It sensed freedom and came to life, scuttling first halfway across the wall. Then it launched itself into the air.

      It fell for a moment in a great flat-bellied curve, weighed down by the trap and chain that dangled from its leg. But the rush of air under its wings bore it upward, and it flapped in a desperate arc over the trees and disappeared.

      Will saw everything haloed in blue light. He battled to bring his mind once more into focus. Stupidly he looked at the patterns of the ground far below but could make no sense of them. But then he felt a trickle of spittle run wetly from the side of his mouth. He felt his teeth grating on the stone and a great sickness welled up in his belly.

      A moment passed before he understood his precariousness. Another moment before he began to wonder just how long he had been slumped on the wall. He heard Duffred calling to him. Then the life started to flow back into his limbs again, and he breathed a deep draught of air that made him realize just how close a fool had come to killing himself.

       CHAPTER SIX AN UNWELCOME GUEST

      Bright sunshine was shafting through an open window and sparrows were chasing one another noisily through the eaves when Will came to again. He found himself stiff in every joint, and his left hand was tied up tightly in a cloth strip.

      Bolt began to bark and came up to him with a wagging tail when he tried to turn