Camden glared at the wagon for several moments, his expression growing as dark as a mountain storm. Suddenly, he looked back to Wendel.
"You can stand now? " he yelled.
The king shoved Wendel hard, sending him crashing to the ground at the feet of the peasant's ox.
"Go back and do as I commanded!"
The queen, a golden-haired girl standing barely up to Camden's elbow, placed herself between Wendel and the king.
"Please, milord. Earl Wendel and these other men have already suffered much on your behalf." As Celia spoke, she kept her eyes fixed on Camden's feet, clearly frightened to look her own husband in the eye. "You're being unreasonable."
"Unreasonable!" Camden roared.
Celia grimaced, but nodded. "Aye," she said. "These men need to rest-and to see Simon."
The king scowled at her, then stepped past the quivering peasant to peer at the unconscious figures in the back of the wagon. "So they do."
Suddenly, Camden's voice seemed as gentle as a meadow breeze. Wendel found the abrupt mood change more frightening than he had the king's anger.
"They'll stay at Castle Hartwick until they recover," the king declared. He seemed to grow thoughtful, then added, "And I'll have to do something else about Tavis Burdun, won't I?"
Celia breathed a sigh of relief. She reached down and took Wendel's arm, helping him to his feet. "Please forgive him," she whispered. "The strain has affected his temper."
"It's affected more than his temper," Wendel replied, eyeing the king nervously.
"Ssshhh!" Celia hissed. "There's no telling what he'll do if he hears you."
But there was no danger of that, Wendel saw.
Camden had already turned to face his nervous chamberlain. "Bjordrek, do you think Noote is home by now?"
The chamberlain nodded. "M-most certainly," he said. "He left the day after Brianna's disappearance."
"Good. Needle Peak isn't far from Gray Wolf lands." Camden grabbed his chamberlain by the shoulders and shoved him toward the gate. "Go and tell Simon to prepare one of his message birds. I must ask Noote to do something for me."
When Sart herded Brianna and her companions into the Fir Palace, as he insisted upon calling Noote's oversized lean-to, the princess felt like she had stepped into some vast, sour-smelling vault where the gods held wicked spirits in purgatory. The air was hazy and damp, filled with the stench of unwashed bodies and the acrid smoke of the distant cooking fire. A roaring din of brutal laughter, bellowing voices, and lewd, bestial groans reverberated through the entire place. Around the perimeter of the room lounged great mounds of flesh that could only be hill giants, their faces and features lost in the flickering shadows draped along the walls.
"Go," Sart urged. "Noote way down there."
The giant thrust his arm over their heads, pointing. The air was so murky that Brianna could see only a few paces beyond the hand, much less clear to the other end of the cavernous room. Nevertheless, she led the way forward, determined to find Noote and interrogate him. The chief was cunning for a hill giant but he was not a quick thinker. The princess felt confident it would not take long to learn everything he knew about her abduction.
Winning the hill giant's help could be more difficult. Because Tavis had been so willing to let her cast her true speaking spell on him, Brianna had decided to accept his warning about Noote and the Twilight Vale- though she still believed the scout was mistaken about her father's involvement. Now the princess was trying to think of some way to convince the chieftain to take her to Castle Hartwick instead of returning her to the ogres or taking her to the Twilight Vale himself.
The safest thing would have been to avoid Noote altogether, but the princess had spent all afternoon and most of the evening, the length of time it had taken to climb down from the gate, trying to persuade Sart to lead them through the valley. The giant had steadfastly refused, even when Brianna pointed out that Noote might demand some of his horses. Although he had not said as much, Brianna suspected Sart anticipated trouble explaining what had happened to his two fellows, so he wanted some captives handy to blame for the deaths.
As Brianna progressed through the room, curious hill giants loomed out of the shadows to peer down at her and her companions. The princess could not tell the males from the females, for their brutal faces were entirely androgynous, with uniformly heavy brows, flat noses, and blocky chins. Nor was facial hair any help. They all seemed to have a little on the upper lip and chin, though never enough to grow a beard or mustache. And their bodies were uniformly lumpy and bulky, lacking any of the customary curves or angles that suggested their sex.
A few of the giants snapped belittling comments at Sart. "Stupid Sart? Firbolgs not good slaves!" Others pointed at Tavis, who was being carried in Morten's arms, and cried, "That one no good? Can't walk, can't work?"
