The Mad Giant (Shioni of Sheba Book 3) (9 page)

M
URDERER!”
shouted Captain Dabir.
“You filthy madman! Answer your accusers!”

“Murderer!” hissed the village elders.

In the centre of the courtyard Talaku stood stock-still, as though thunderstruck. Only his face moved. And that was the tic, the involuntary twitching of muscle, that Shioni knew proclaimed him the Mad Giant. Her hand stole down to her dagger. This was about to turn ugly.

“Wait,” said Princess Annakiya, stepping forward. “He should stand trial. By our law–”

“My son! He murdered my son!”

“Lock him up,” growled Dabir. “Before he kills anyone else!”

The Princess’ jaw worked. “Maybe temporarily. Talaku, will you–”

The giant sprang!

And Shioni, mirroring his action to the split second, sprang forward too, coming between him and the Princess of West Sheba. She swung her dagger hard, flat and low.

Talaku’s fist struck her jaw like the kick of a horse and she felt herself fall. She must have blacked out, because she did not feel herself hit the ground. Now she was eating dust off the courtyard stones, she thought inanely. Shouldn’t she be sweeping them with a broom?

Then Shioni saw the giant reach around Princess Annakiya to draw her dagger out of his forearm. He gave her an odd, sad smile. “Nobody moves or I kill the Princess, understand?”

Shioni fished a gob of dirt and blood out of her mouth with her fingers and flicked it on the ground. She rolled onto her knees and looked up. At that moment, she was the only person moving in the sun-drenched courtyard. The rest–the Elite warriors, the castle staff, and the elders of Ginab village–were all staring as though the giant’s words had robbed their limbs of the power of movement.

“You will not lock me up in any dungeon,” Talaku growled at Captain Dabir. “Now, you had better order the archers to stand down, or I will twist her little neck just a little too far.”

Captain Dabir’s jaw worked as though his tongue were a snake writhing inside his mouth. Finally, he spat, “Stand down! Nobody move!”

Talaku had his back to the wall and was shielding his body with the Princess. The huge paw gripping her neck was covered in blood from the wound Shioni had dealt him, but he did not appear to feel any pain. Annakiya, to her credit, was doing nothing to further aggravate the giant. She had cried out once–when Talaku swooped on her, and Shioni dived across with her dagger drawn. She grimaced, feeling her lip. So much for being the Princess’ bodyguard! He had swatted her away like a bothersome mosquito.

Talaku tossed the longer dagger back to her. “Sorry. But I have to do this.”

“Stand still! You are accused of murder!” shouted Dabir.

Talaku began to shuffle along the wall toward the entrance of the keep. “A couple of tracks do not make for murder,” he hissed. “I stole a goat.”

“Murderer!” cried one of the village elders. “His flight condemns him! My son, my precious son! His blood is on your hands.”

Dabir was turning every possible shade of puce. A small part of Shioni–a part of herself she didn’t admire at all–was enjoying his teeth-gnashing, impotent rage. In a castle full of warriors, Talaku had just played him for a fool.

Again, he addressed Shioni as though she were the only person in that entire courtyard who mattered to him. “I will leave the Princess upriver, unharmed. You, and only you, will fetch her. No warriors.”

Shioni nodded. “I will come.”

And with that, the giant vanished into the deep shadows beneath the gateway. His feet tapped sharply on the cobblestones, a rhythm Shioni knew meant he was already running. Perhaps the afternoon’s events had only accelerated what would have happened soon anyhow. Talaku had been planning to leave the castle for months.

Nobody would catch him now.

“T
hem onions ain’t attacking
you, girl!” Mama Nomuula’s hand closed over Shioni’s. “You cross with me?”

“No.”

“You lying to me?”

“Yes!
Alright, yes!” Shioni, in a fine fit of rage, threw off Mama’s hands.

Mama said soothingly, “That were quite a scene you made this morning.
The General’s not mad at you no more. Actually, he was impressed you were the only person who moved to protect Annakiya.”

“Huh.
The Princess?” snorted Shioni, hacking an onion so hard it shot off the board and splatted against the wall. “What does she care?”

“More than you think.”

“They’re going to kill him! And Talaku is no murderer!”

“You said.
Twenty times already. Look, issuing a rogue warrior order is not a warrant–”

“Mama!
Dabir sent his trackers out with orders to bring him back or kill him. You must think I’m as thick as a donkey–I know I wasn’t invited to your secret meetings.”

Mama Nomuula folded her
huge arms across her chest. Her round face, usually beaming with smiles, became as dark as a thundercloud. “So that’s what this is all about!”

Shioni waved her carving
knife under Mama’s nose. “Who’s lying now? Oh, don’t tell me, I can read it right off your face. You didn’t have to lie because you fobbed me off on that stupid errand riding down to the warriors guarding the tunnel–the tunnel
I
found!”

“Shioni.”
Mama lowered her voice. “Look, the General didn’t want to jeopardise the raid… you know… the raid on
that
place?”

“Oh, so now I’m the danger?”

“Honey, slave-girls can’t
expect
to attend strategy meetings with the Captains and all.”

Shioni jabbed the chopping
knife so hard into the board that it stood there quivering like a reed on a windy day. “Oh, I understand perfectly!” Ducking beneath Mama’s encircling arm, she stepped away. “Thank you for explaining so nicely how much of a liability I am!”

“Shioni!
Shioni!
”

Mama’s exasperated shout followed her out of the doorway, but Shioni didn’t care.
Blindly, she ran out of the keep and down through Mama’s herb gardens. But the gate guard halted her with an upraised palm, and before she could figure out what was happening, her friend Kifle seized her arm, hauled her off to one side, and hissed in her ear, “Shut your mouth and just listen. Okay?”

Shioni nodded, startled
into silence by his furtive manner.

“There’s a verbal order out
–nothing written, understand? You’re not to be allowed out of the gate without an escort.”

“What?
But I always… but I never… Kifle?”

“I didn’t tell you.
” Kifle put his finger to her mouth to quiet her. “Go for a walk. Clear your head. Scoot!”

“But… who?”

“Fly away, birdie!”

Caged.
Dabir, Getu or Annakiya, what difference did it make who had issued the order? For what seemed an age, Shioni prowled around the inside of the defensive wall like a caged lion, speechless with indignation. Before reaching the gatehouse she had begun to feel ashamed of shouting at Mama. And now? Her friends were ignoring her. Excluding her. Worst of all, they were ganging up on her! She could gladly have stuffed a raw onion right into that smug smile of Mama’s. Fancy admitting it all… and then rubbing her nose in the stinking business to boot!

Slaves can’t do
this. Slaves can’t do that. She was sick of being a slave! Maybe next time she just wouldn’t throw her body on the line for the Princess. All she had to show for it was a fat lip and the joy of having the General, Mama, and Princess Annakiya take turns to deliver a verbal kicking to the slave-girl. Slaves had feelings, not just functions. Even Annakiya, a thoughtful and gentle owner for the most part, forgot that at times.

She flicked a stone with her toe.
Even in her current mood, she was not mad enough to kick it. Bruise a toe? That would just add insult to injury–or was that injury to insult?

A rushing of wings above her head
made her duck instinctively and lash out with the dagger. Too much warrior training, right there. And a healthy dollop of vexation.

“Finally,” said the
vulture.

Once
Shioni had decided her head was safe, she took a second look at the bird perched uneasily on a low branch near her–and almost ducked again. Bearded vultures were common in the mountains. They often soared high overhead, and oftentimes she had seen them dropping bones from a great height onto exposed crags, in order to break them open and get at the marrow inside. But to be swooped upon by one was another matter entirely. The bird was much larger than she had expected, only a foot or so shorter than herself, she estimated. But its wingspan was massive, and its sharply-hooked beak looked ideally suited to ripping the guts out of anything that moved.

Maybe she should just keep very still in that case…

The bearded vulture folded those slate-grey pinions, ruffled its dusty yellow chest, and fixed her with an unblinking glare. “A message from Anbessa,” it announced, rather grandly.

“Anbessa?”

“Do you know another? Lord of the Simien Mountains. Decidedly lion-like in appearance.”

Shioni realised the bird had just labelled her a dimwit without saying the word.
Deciding to decline the bait, she bit her lip until she tasted blood instead. “Go on.”

With a flick of his be-ruffed head, the vulture
intoned, “A message from Anbessa. Greetings to Shioni of Sheba, presently residing at Castle Hiwot.” She blinked. The vulture’s voice had deepened to resemble Anbessa’s regal tones with uncanny accuracy. And Anbessa knew about the renaming of the castle? “Forgive the brief nature of my message, but I thought it best to pass on to you word which reached my ears today. In sum, you are betrayed by Kalcha’s spies in the castle. The Sheban warriors currently marching upon Chiro Leba, march into an ambush. They will surely be destroyed if they are not stopped or helped. Furthermore, Kalcha and her apprentices hunt your companion, the giant. You will find him dwelling in a cave behind the lower cataract on the Mesheha, not an hour’s journey upriver from where the Wasabi tunnel exits into the valley. Remember your name in Lion: Graceful Strength of the Dawn.”

And with that, the vulture spread its wings and took to the skies
once more.

Arrogant
creature!

Now she knew for certain the Sheban Elite contingent had already left for Chiro Leba. Mama had lied. Annakiya had lied. And the slave-girl was infuriated, but that would probably matter about as much as a donkey’s breakfast. So they wanted to do everything without her? They didn’t need her skills, despite General Getu suggesting they had some value to Sheba? And now the warriors were marching straight into a trap and she was stuck in the castle with some
nonsensical order forbidding her from walking out of the gate and nobody would listen to her?

“Stupid, sneaking, scabby, nasty, loathsome hyenas!” she hissed between her teeth. “They’re treating me exactly like one of you lot!”

But now Shioni spotted a messenger boy coming running down into the gardens. The funny thing about five-year-old boys was how they always ran as though their lives depended on it. The thought made her smile, even now. Hemmed in on all sides, there would be no escape. How did they expect her to bathe, for heavens’ sake? In dirty water from Mama’s kitchens? She raised her hand and waved to the boy. He had done nothing wrong, even if he was the same mite who had unwittingly lured Annakiya away from the pool–what was it, all of a week ago now?

She might
as well find out what the high and mighty ones wanted of their slave, this time.

S
hioni’s EYES SHIFTED from
Princess Annakiya to General Getu and back again, with the feeling in her gut that her intestines were being squashed by a large boulder. The thin set of Getu’s mouth, the slight sigh that escaped Annakiya’s lips–she knew her cause was lost. She stared bitterly at Talaku’s huge, double-bladed war axe, which was leaning in the corner of the Princess’ room. He liked to it call ‘Siltam’, from the old word meaning ‘sharp’. Why was he so fond of the weapon? Macabre… enough to give her the shivers!

“The warriors left yesterday
after nightfall,” said Getu.

“A fast rider could catch them
–I know I could, my Lord.”

“You
–especially you–are not going anywhere,” said the General, but he had the grace to shift uncomfortably as he reined her in. “I want you right here, right under my nose where I can smell the trouble before it bites me in the backside.”

“Anbessa says
–”

“We know there are spies in the castle, Shioni!
” Seen in the lamplight, Getu’s expression was unusually severe. Her eyes flicked down again. He was about to tear a strip off her, she could sense it. “I have taken great pains to conceal the timing and purpose of this raid. And we have Desta to lead us by the secret paths. I heard your concerns about his motives. I warned Captain Dabir without needing to take advice from a slave-girl.”

“And the hyenas
–”

“
You said. The timing of this supposed message from Anbessa is all a little too convenient for my liking. You have a fight with Mama, you storm out, next thing you’re coming back with a revelation from the heavens.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “Girl, you need to learn that the whole world does not revolve around you and your powers and your dreams and… all that. You are a slave of Sheba. You have a position, duties, and responsibilities, but you remain a slave!”

Well, that told her, didn’t it? Shioni felt her lower jaw trembling. Tears were not far away, and she was madder than a hornet whose nest had been kicked around by a group of naughty boys. She would not cry. She would
not!

His finger stabbed
the air beneath her nose. “Don’t you give me that stubborn-donkey look! I am not displeased with you, Shioni. What I feel is–well, what I fear is that Kalcha might be attacking us through your mind. I fear
you
might be the spy.”

Shioni’s mouth imitated a tilapia fish swallowing water.

“Inadvertently, of course,” Annakiya put in.

The General gripped her chin and turned her face upward
until she was obliged to meet his gaze. His eyes seemed kindly, but resolute–and much less angry than she had expected. “You’re a fool if you think we are accusing you for no good reason,” he said. “Those warriors out there are the Elites of Sheba. You need to let the men do what they are trained to do.”

All Shioni could
see in her mind’s eye was how easily Kalcha had defeated them the last time–how her power flattened two hundred hardened warriors like stalks of grain smashed by an avalanche. Had the General forgotten so soon? Kalcha had broken his leg! She had come within an arrow’s point of conquering the castle and making them all her slaves. But all that seemed to have been swept away on the river.

“I am glad you have the courage of your convictions,” the General
was saying, still holding her chin as though he would rather be shaking some sense into her than merely speaking. “But you need learn to discern when they are the
right
convictions. Now, the Princess has a nice job to take your mind off all this, my daughter. Scrolls, quill pens, ink, lamp oil and a large
jebena
of coffee are required. Princess Annakiya will show you she has decoded the stele by the cave.”

The matter was evidently dismissed.

Pasting her best, most excited expression onto her face, Shioni turned to the Princess, exclaiming, “No, you didn’t!”

“I worked out the key this afternoon,” said Annakiya, with a
self-satisfied smirk that Shioni would have loved to slap right off her lips. “With Zi’s help, of course. It just remains to decode the text. We’ve started already…”

Shioni unfolded herself from her kneeling position.
“I will fetch what you require at once, my Lady.”

“I have scrolls to prepare,” said Getu,
rising to leave as well.

Annakiya was looking oddly at Shioni.
Holding her bland expression steady–a vacuous look she usually reserved for hours of chopping vegetables or stirring Mama’s pots of
wot
, the spicy sauce she so loved–even though it cost her dear, she inclined her head. “Whatever you need. At once.”

The Princess nodded. “Be quick.”

So… they thought
she
was the spy, did they? As Shioni limped down to the kitchen in search of a
jebena
, coffee beans and a small stove, she was trembling so hard she had to concentrate on walking properly, or her knees might have given way. Her stomach was a churning mess. Her, Kalcha’s spy? The nerve! The warriors’ departure, deliberately concealed… the secret meetings… and orders to detain her within the castle grounds… the whole atrocious, stinking evening had then been back-ended by a staggering accusation. The last place in the world she wanted to be was right under the General’s nose... oh!

She was so taken aback by the idea, her throat closed up and after a moment she had to force herself to start breathing again.

Oh my… oh no, she couldn’t.

The idea
slithered back again to coil, snakelike, around her weakening resolve.

Oh yes she could…