The Mad Giant (Shioni of Sheba Book 3) (8 page)

W
ith her dagger held
ready in her right hand, Shioni slipped into the corridor. Was that a slight scratching she had heard? A rustle of clothing? Her heart pulsed anxiously in her ears, making her wonder if she had heard right.

Just that afternoon, she
and a troop of Elites had endured a lesson from General Getu about the methods and dangers of assassins. Now her imagination was filled with shadowy figures sneaking about in the dark of night. A tiny sound in the corridor outside the Princess’ bedroom had been enough to sting her into panicked wakefulness.

Had she been dreaming about Talaku stealing goats? Maybe she’d caught more sun that afternoon than she thought. Shioni touched the back of her hand to her forehead. Too hot? Did she need more of Mama’s healing potion?
Ridiculous dream! She had to focus…

Brilliant bars of moonlight slanted across her path. Tonight was full moon. Mama had told the slaves a story about the witch Kalcha… there! What was that? Knees slightly bent, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet, she stole forward. Scabby hyenas take the
right foot, which still had to be dragged behind her and set down without the slightest jolt or the pain would stab daggers into her ankle. Her ears strained to their utmost. The dagger rose, searching. Dust swirled languidly in the moonbeams, highlighting the currents of air playing through the corridor–so as the shadow lurched forward, she was prepared. But not for what she saw: Talaku’s face. Low, near the floor. Twisted, snarling, the tic on his cheek pulsing like an angry snake coiling to strike. His eyes shone eerily in the moonlight, reminding her of lamps lit from the inside, just as Kalcha’s had been in the flush of her madness and attack on Castle Hiwot.

Never had Shioni been so aware of the working of
the dragon venom in Talaku’s huge frame. Or was this magic? Or were the two one and the same thing?

Thoughts
raced through her mind: it was a common mistake to believe that lions roar before pouncing on their prey. The hunt is silent, roaring usually reserved for a full belly after a meal, when the lion declares its kingship with a mighty thundering that shakes the African night. Talaku did not announce himself with a roar. His rush was uncannily silent.

Shioni stayed her
counter strike for fear of harming him–if she could have.

A massive
paw engulfed her throat. She was slammed bodily against the wall, and then hoisted off her feet, up, up, right up near the ceiling, her legs dangling haplessly in the air. She clutched his wrist but it was like grappling with a tree-branch or the haft of a spear. To fight his strength was to battle a raging river. She sensed hunger, pain, a terrible craving, the need to blindly lash out at whatever tormented him. His breath in her face smelled strange, suggesting burnt anise with a sour undertone of lime.

Holding her pinned
by her neck with his left hand, Talaku drew back his right fist to strike.

“Friend!”
Shioni wheezed. She felt the sound leave her throat, at the same time as an urgent message surged out of her mind–a jumble of feelings frantic to assure him of who she was, that she presented no threat, that he was safe and well...

Talaku
shook his shaggy head as though he had a wasp buzzing in his ear canal. “Huh?” His fist wavered. Then the muscles of his cheek tightened again. “Why not kill? You heard! You came for me!”

“Of course
I did,” Shioni managed to whisper around the iron grip upon her throat. “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

She was trying to focus on one feeling, to do what she had done with the sparrowhawk
–but it was different trying to concentrate when dangling by her neck faced by a crazed giant. My word, he had to bend down to fit into the corridor! He could no longer stand upright indoors!

As if sensing her thoughts, Talaku moaned, “It
hurts!
Never stops–it’s tearing me apart! Oh God! The stretching! The burning! Make it stop… can’t you make it stop?”

“Why don’t you put me down?”

“The pain’s like a hundred men pulling me in every direction! I’m frightened, can’t you see?” he demanded. His fingers tightened on her neck as he snarled right in her face, “Don’t you tell anyone! Now you know, I’ll have to kill you.”

Shioni stared at the tic creeping up his cheek,
as if an animal were crawling underneath his skin, and shuddered. But wasn’t he holding back? He was no killer. It just wasn’t in him. That said, if he didn’t let up she wouldn’t have any breath left in her lungs either! Her neck might as well have been locked in a carpenter’s vice. His fingers were stopping her blood. She could feel veins bulging in her forehead, and her eyeballs were aching from the pressure as though they intended to pop out any moment.

She heard herself
rasp, “How tall are you now, Talaku? We should measure you again. I’ll bet you’ve grown.”

His face screwed itself up
alarmingly, registering flashes of indignation, confusion, terror, and an almighty wrath. And then, just as suddenly, he smiled a winning smile. “Right. You’re right.” He set her down on her feet, which felt remarkably good at that point. Right along with being able to soothe her burning lungs with cool, sweet air. “But you can’t use the Princess’ door any more. And anyhow, how were you planning to measure me? You couldn’t reach… two of you couldn’t!”

“We were way above the
lintel anyway.”

“But we measured last week!
Didn’t we?” He punched her shoulder. “Just after you cheated in our race.”

Ouch!
Shioni would rather have been kicked by a horse. “You slowed down.”

Talaku patted the ceiling
as though assuring it he meant no harm. “Don’t you see? I’ve outgrown this place. It’ll have to be outside next time.”

“Next time.”

Now he reached down to ruffle her hair. “I need more friends like you.” Fancy rumpling her hair as though she was a favourite dog! Shioni smoothed her hair crossly. “I must leave now.”

Giant
Talaku pushed past her.

She
stared after him. Just look at his hunched-over walk to avoid scraping his head, his hand tapping the stone ceiling she could not have jumped up to reach, the sideways shuffle to squeeze his shoulders between the doorposts! He was growing faster and faster. She had no need of measurements to prove it, only the evidence supplied by her own eyes.

Incredible. The dagger slumped to her side.

Surely no man was meant to be his size? There was a story about Goliath of Gath, she remembered, the giant son of the Anakim who had been defeated by David’s slingshot. David had later become the King of Israel. She knew the story because the Sheban Kings proudly traced their descent from King Solomon, David’s son, and the Queen of Sheba who had famously visited him. The Queen’s son by Solomon was the legendary Menelik, foremost of the great line of Sheban royalty. How tall had Goliath been in the story, she wondered? Tall enough and big enough to frighten the entire Israelite army, as surely as hyenas stank and loved to yip at the moon. She should ask Annakiya. She’d know.

After a long time, during which she listened to her lungs filling and emptying,
and pondered their brief encounter, Shioni found her feet taking her down the corridor to the doorway which had so recently been filled by her nightmare. She stepped outside. The night was so clear that the stars clustered overhead appeared as thick as dust, a dazzling trail no human foot had ever trod. She felt her neck, bruised by his fingers. Both her neck and her shoulder hurt now. Shioni dreaded reporting this incident to General Getu. Did he not already harbour enough concerns about his son?

The courtyard was
deserted, silent; shadowed by the baobab’s leaves which gleamed silvery-grey in the moonlight. She could almost hear the castle breathing. Shioni shivered, and not just because of the cool night air. Was the whole place steeped in magic? Or was this inkling merely her imagination, magnified by the lateness of the hour?

“You were unfair to Talaku,” she told herself, wanting to be comforted by the sound of a voice. “He’s no nightmare. He’
s a person like me…”

Truly
? Shioni leaned against the rough wooden doorframe, willing, for the first time, to give this question serious consideration. Was either of them human? Giant, dragon-tainted Talaku? Weird Shioni of the witch-powers? Azurelle had magic too, she reminded herself. So she could pick her role model–the murdering witch Kalcha or the queen of vanity!

“Ooh, you’re in a
mean
mood.”

Somehow,
her mood was nothing to do with being smashed into the wall by the giant. Shioni felt that if she had a mirror, she would have seen something rather disagreeable and noxious staring back at her.

But
to be inhuman was a repellent, chilling thought. What made a human… well, human? Compassion? Love? Two arms and legs? A soul? Who decided? She had not stolen any Fiuri’s powers, nor been bitten by a dragon… but she had come from an unknown land, from unknown parents, at a time nobody seemed too sure of! She had strange powers. If she could speak to animals–some animals–did that make her an animal herself? Or an oversized Fiuri? Or the child of magicians from a faraway land? A small gasp issued from her lips. Or a person from another world, even? Were there other worlds? Who would know?

Her eyes rose to the stars.
Shioni sometimes imagined her parents might be up there, somewhere in the universe, also gazing up at a starlit night. Wondering where she might be.

Did people
like her even have parents? Yeshi’s accusation of being born under a rock smarted afresh as it crossed her mind. But she had reason aplenty to be worried! What if she turned out like Kalcha? What if her powers led her down an evil path? The General had touched this question exactly. Where had her powers come from? Did it matter? Had they been born into someone, or some
thing
, called Shioni? Were those powers inherently evil or would it be her choice what became of her?

Shioni found herself
shaking her head so violently that she scraped her right temple on the doorpost. Great. There was one thing she could do, of course. One thing she could try–even if she was fearful of starting down a path that would likely lead only to disappointment. Shioni whispered, “Find my parents.” Maybe the Princess would help her. And the Archivist? He seemed fond enough of her. Maybe slave-girls were not allowed to ask such questions. She might offend Annakiya just by asking–even if they were important!

Maybe she should
just go to bed.

Would the elephants have some wisdom to share? Or Shuba? But she was gone now. Shuba
knew about magic. But would she be willing to share her knowledge? For the safety of West Sheba, even? To keep a certain slave-girl sane and out of danger?

Shioni’s gaze searched
the baobab’s velvety leaves and portly branches as she recalled what she had found nestled beneath its great roots. She never
intended
trouble... trouble just had a way of finding her! She fingered the parallel scars on her shoulder. Trouble such as entering a lion’s lair to treat the great beast, only to be attacked in return… trouble such as uncovering the secret Wasabi route into their valley… trouble like nearly being drowned by the other slave-girls…

They’d not meant to drown her, had they? Surely no-one hated her that much–save Kalcha, who must still be smarting after her defeat at Shioni’s hands.

Funny how staring death right in the eye had made her absurdly, almost tearfully, grateful for every breath that filled her lungs now. Her warrior instructors would have beaten her at staves for such an idea. For being a dreamer. For daring to believe life was precious and not to be chopped off by the edge of a sword or the point of an arrow.

That’s what it was. Just a dream. Dream of finding your parents, slave-girl. But steel yourself for disappointment…
the inevitable let-down… or tremble at what you might find out. Shioni hugged herself. Had they loved her, their baby?

H
er sigh steamed lightly toward the cool, uncaring stars.

After a long while, she
dropped her gaze. Footstep by footstep, Shioni dragged herself back to her pallet. It took an age to worry herself to sleep.

T
he instant Shioni, RUBBING
her eyes groggily, set foot outside the Princess’ room the morning following her midnight confrontation with giant Talaku, the General’s hand seized her shoulder and swung her about.

“Aargh!”

“Silence!” snapped Getu. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I had a nightmare.
Hyenas… the witch…”

Shioni felt
as though she had been wrestling a dozen giants all night. To be accosted by the General first thing? She rubbed her shoulder defiantly and grimaced at her toes.

“Well, pull yourself together, girl!” ordered the General.
“I need you down at the elephant pen, double time. The pregnant elephant has gone missing. She left no tracks. With all these hyenas about, I fear for the animal.”

Now she remembered her dream
–well, one at least. Shioni became aware her mouth was hanging open and shut her jaw with a snap.

The General’s brown face
had meantime turned a distinct shade of purple. He roared, “You are released from your other duties for this task! Now get lost, before I tan your hide as you deserve!”

Shioni dashed out of the castle
as fast as her game hopping on her stick could take her, earning herself a swat on the head and a curse from the gate guard on the way. Her feet slapped along the path; one loudly, one gingerly. The General misunderstood her. He had been tempted to hit her, back there. Why was he in such a fierce mood? But she had a good idea what she would find down at the pen. No elephant would choose to birth its calf in the full view of men.

Her urgency must have communicated itself to the elephants, for they were all
lined up waiting for her–and pointedly, quite ridiculously, in fact, ignoring the elephant-sized hole in the fence right alongside the Chief Elephant. Like a group of naughty children who had enjoyed a stolen piece of honeycomb, she thought, they looked smugly pleased with themselves.

Right.
Shioni summoned up the memory of her dream and let them have it right between the eyes.

The elephant
handler was trying to tell her something when the Chief scuttled out of the pen, as well as a twelve-foot-tall bull elephant can be said to scuttle, twirled his thick trunk around Shioni’s waist, and deposited her on the back of his neck between his great, flapping ears. He gave her a testy blast from his trunk.

“We’ll go get her!” Shioni called over her shoulder.

The handler shook his head, obviously convinced she was a crazy girl.

Shioni, used to riding Thunder, felt
as though she was perched up among the puffy white clouds dominating the sky, lightening even as she watched from the depthless blues of night into a radiant dawn. It was awesome. And scary. The huge male elephant was so bulky, she felt that once he began to run, he would be unable to stop. The handlers said Chief was the biggest elephant they had ever known. His tusks alone were longer than a man is tall.

Oddly, however, he
had stiff hairs on his back that pricked her legs like thorns. Her leggings were no match for them. Struggling to find a comfortable position quickly become more important to her than worrying about falling off!

Choosing a path Shioni had seldom travelled,
Chief thundered down-valley from the castle. He angled steadily away from the river, through a thicket of acacia trees and tall elephant grasses, until they were right up against the base of the cliffs. He kicked up clouds of red dust as he forged along through the tall but sparse tan grasses; but at nearly fifteen feet in the air Shioni was above all of that. She frowned. Was there a cave down this way? A shallow one, quite different to the one the Wasabi had used to steal into the valley, as she recalled.

Why had the elephants let Beauty give birth in private, knowing there were so many hyenas in the valley?
Not that elephants ordinarily had anything to fear from hyenas. But a group of hyenas, especially Kalcha’s oversized pets, could make life very unpleasant for a mother and her calf. The witch’s hyenas had come so close to killing Anbessa…

“It’s the elephant way,” the Chief
interrupted her reverie in his deep, unhurried tones. But his pace did not slow one bit. “The mother will find a secluded place. Calves are usually born at night.”

“Are you listening to my thoughts?”

“You aren’t hiding them. I can teach you, if–”

Remembering how the Chief had ‘taught’ her before, she blurted out, “No!
Chief… I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

“Well.
You are learning.”

What she was learning, Shioni thought crossly, was
how much the Chief elephant enjoyed having his own way! She remembered exactly how he had meddled in her mind before. What he meant was that she was learning manners, and he was nothing if not a stickler for good manners! But if she was patient in listening to his interminable stories, Shioni had found there were always nuggets of wisdom to be gleaned from the great pachyderm. And he had been so concerned about her after her near-drowning…

Lost in her thoughts, Shioni was startled by a
furious trumpet-blast. Ears spread, trunk raised, Chief charged down the path toward a milling group of hyenas. Shioni grabbed his ears to stop herself from falling off.

The hyenas had been skulking and mincing about, menacing the opening of the cave.
But the Chief’s arrival scattered them as chaff in the wind. A slap of his trunk this way, a switch of his tusks that, and he had already dispatched three hyenas into the beyond. The rest broke into yipping, cowardly flight–all bar the last pair, the largest members of the pack. They emerged from the cave curling their lips back from their fangs and snarling bad-temperedly.

Shioni caught the image of Kalcha clear in their minds.

“Run, you mangy curs!” bellowed the Chief. “Scuttle back to your mistress with your tails between your legs!”

“You haven’t seen the last of
us,” smirked one of the hyenas, giving Shioni a perfectly revolting view of his scabrous grey gums and yellow fangs.

“Yes, Kalcha has a nice surprise planned for you two-legged
parasites.”

“Shut up!” snarled the first, snapping viciously at the other.

Chief kicked up dust with his forelegs and lowered his tusks. That was enough to frighten the hyenas off into the distance, cackling and yipping like a pair of demented ducks.

After a moment, his trunk curled upward and Shioni took a ride down.
Not that she had any choice in the matter, she thought crossly, restraining an urge to slap him as he nudged her forward now. Chief often treated her as one of his herd.

“Beauty?” she called, entering the cave
with the tread of a mongoose entering a strange burrow.

There she was!
An exhausted trunk snuffled at her outstretched hand, and Beauty struggled to her feet. She had used her body to block the interior of the cave, Shioni saw. Clever. But her trunk was bleeding in at least a dozen places, and her left ear was torn like a beggar’s rags where the hyenas must have pulled at it with their teeth.

“You came!”
cried Beauty. “How did you know?”

“The Chief brought me.
The handlers saw you were gone this morning, and I… I had a nightmare. Ooh–is that your baby?”

“Come out, Little Chief!
He’s a bit shy. Come out, honey.” Beauty laid a proud trunk upon his shoulder. “Shioni won’t bite. She’s the only human who can talk elephant.”

Well, at least the elephants thought she was human!

He was so new born–no more than a couple of hours old–that his skin still looked wet and his body and head were covered in soft, downy hair. There was a lovely baby smell about him, a fresh hint of milky vanilla clearly distinct from the sour, dank odour of the cave. The little calf could fit easily underneath his mother’s belly, but he had to be at least three times Shioni’s weight and stood nearly the height of her shoulder.

H
e did not look at all certain about having his trunk stroked by her! A wild heave made him stagger into his mother’s side, but then he gathered his courage to test her clothes with the twin nubbins at the end of his trunk.

“He’s delightful!”

“He’s already had a good feed this morning,” said Beauty. “Come on, son, let’s meet your father.”

As
the mother elephant stepped out in the sun’s gentle warmth, the little elephant wanted to hide behind her legs. He peeked out at his father. Shioni thought it comical–and precious–how he had to crane his neck further and further upward to take in the great height of his father, until he overbalanced and sat down with a thump on his backside.

Beauty chuckled indulgently.
The three elephants touched trunks tenderly, meeting each other, just drinking it all in.

Shioni found herself dabbing away a tear.
Some things about being an orphan were rotten. Just plain rotten.