Chapter 7

"Excuse me, but I seem to be lost. Do you perhaps know where Uncle Petru lives?"

"If you seek Petru, then I have some bad news for you. Come in, my dear, and let me tell you all about it..."

The code-phrase given, and the correct answer received, Strides-Tall ducked inside the little basement dwelling, and the door was quickly and securely bolted behind her. "So, who're you running from?", enquired her host, a round-faced woman with a gaily-pattern head-scarf , with a heavily-stained coarse grey apron tied over a simple, well-worn dress. "Knights of Justice? Pirates...?"

Strides-Tall thought it was best to be open about her situation. Truth given earns truth back, she told herself. "Dyals", she replied.

The woman's ruddy face went starkly pale. "Sorcerers or warriors?", she asked nervously.

"The Skywolves", the elf answered, afraid that she was about to be thrown out.

The keeper of the safe-house breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and the colour started to return to her face. "The best of a bad situation", she said, leading the elf down the cramped passage. "The Skywolves actively avoid magic, so they'll struggle to find anyone. They may look like warriors, but few take them seriously. It'll take a good few generations before they turn out real fighters!"

The passage led into a large room, with a roaring fire at one end and a heavy wooden table surrounded by chairs at the other. Before helping herself to a seat, Strides-Tall offered the woman some of her gold, as she had been told to do, and the money was accepted without a word.

Once the elf was seated, a bowl of steaming stew was brought to her. It was simple fare, but to Strides-Tall it was quite heavenly. My first meal in this world as a free woman, she thought as the lightly spiced combination of strange meat and vegetables brought her new strength. I just better make sure it's not the last.

Strides-Tall took her time over her meal, knowing that there was still quite some time before she needed to set off for the Western Docks. She asked her host for directions, and the woman gladly provided a safe route, away from possible trouble-spots and including a couple of alternate routes, intended to throw off pursuers. "Tell Dallian Aunt Resta said hello", she said in finishing. "He'll take good care of you - or he'll have to answer to me!"

Resta was happy to answer any questions her guest had, and from her Strides-Tall learned much about her predicament. This whole area of space - perhaps this entire universe - was the creation of some entity called "Lord Serpentine", and there were many inhabited planets, which traded and fought amongst themselves. It was not uncommon for strangers to appear suddenly, often found adrift in space, and these "foundlings" had apparently been brought to this realm by its creator, for reasons not even the wisest of men could discover.

"I don't know if that's the case with me", admitted Strides-Tall. "I was taken from my world by a sorceress - her name was Mashilahantradar..."

"The White Witch???", exclaimed Resta. "The Skywolves took you from her? My, how bold - or desperate - they're getting these days. You better be especially careful -"

A banging at the front door cut the safe-house-keeper off in mid-flow. The woman went tense, and ducked into the kitchen to get a large carving knife before going to see who was there. Strides-Tall stayed well out of sight, ready to fight if the worst came to the worst, but there was no horde of armoured Dyals waiting to burst in and reclaim their prize. Instead, a small, shabbily-dressed boy, elf-like in appearance, staggered in and flopped into a chair, panting for breath.

"Ilar, what is it?", asked Resta, securing the door then hurrying to the boy's side.

"Sh...Shr'Ganti", he managed to gasp. "Hunting..."

"Is it coming this way?", asked the kindly woman, and the boy nodded vigorously.

Resta looked towards Strides-Tall, her face frozen in an iron mask of seriousness."What did the Dyals intend to do with you?", she asked.

"They wanted to sell me", the elf replied, again trusting that honesty would serve her best.

"Did you see who they were dealing with?"

"A fat human, in fancy robes..."

"...with lots of rings?", suggested Resta, and Strides-Tall nodded. "Hurmelth. The only man in Kattan'Gyar low enough to employ a Shr'Ganti hunter to track down his 'strays'."

"What exactly is a Shr'Ganti?", asked the adventuress, becoming increasingly concerned as the level of tension in the room suddenly skyrocketed.

"A man-eating giant", Resta replied. "You can't stay - the monster will find you. Go - and quickly...!"

Resta's warning came too late. The next moment, the whole building started to shake, and dust came billowing down from the low rafters and ceiling boards. Candlesticks standing over the fire-place trembled, tottered, and fell clattering to the stone floor, scattering shards of hardened wax.

"Surrender the girl!", roared a voice like living thunder. "Hand her over, and I may let you live!"

Resta's stern expression fell to pieces, exposing raw terror beneath. Ilar sprang from his seat, and sought shelter under the table. "Go to the front door", the woman advised. "We have a rear exit, but he'll be expecting us to use it. I'll draw him away as long as I can."

"You don't need to endanger yourself on my account", the elf said solemnly. "I-I'll go, if it'll save you..."

"Nonsense! The Shr'Ganti murdered my family, and I'll not let them get their hands on another soul, even if it costs me everything!"

"I can't!", Strides-Tall cried. It was her code never to bring harm upon another, if it could possibly be avoided.

"Go", insisted the woman, dodging to one side as a ceiling timber broke, and bricks fell into the room, near where she had been standing. "If you would avenge us, stay free and alive first!"

Strides-Tall threw open the door when Resta, making it look and sound as though someone was fleeing from the back of the house, gave her the signal, and ran. Leaping over pieces of roof thrown into the street, she only looked back once, and caught a brief, chilling look at the towering monster, as it tore the building apart from the top floor down. She did not wait to see if the powerfully-muscled, dusky-skinned giant reached the basement or not.

A few seconds later, the elf started to hear huge, heavy footsteps coming after her. She swerved into the next alley she came to, praying that it did not come to a dead end, but Resta's directions proved entirely trustworthy. I just hope I can convince Captain Phershac to leave early, she thought, then devoted all her energy, physical and mental, to running for freedom.

Dallian Phershac was keen to get out of Kattan'Gyar. There were too many things he hated about the place - such as slave-traders, pirates, Dyals, Shr'Ganti, the over-zealous, self-appointed upholders of law known as the Knights of Justice - and too few he liked. Every time he sailed away from that misbegotten island of rock, he felt his soul brighten, in the same fashion that it dimmed whenever he was forced to return.

Rules were rules, much to the captain's regret, and he could not leave port outside of his allotted departure time without incurring the wrath of the Harbour-Masters. The Orb was growing dim already, heralding the onset of what passed for night in Kattan'Gyar, and there was not much longer to wait.

Phershac's ship, the Wings of Hope, was maybe not the finest ship to sail the Star-Sea, but she certainly had the finest, and possibly the most eclectic crew. Each one of them, be they Ha'Myn, Shaelin, Naagian or Reet'Ven, had earned their place by his side by being skilled at their respective tasks, and by being unswervingly loyal and trustworthy. They looked out for each other, and by doing so they survived.

Dallian, a tall athletic man with dark skin, long black hair and eyes of the deepest brown, was halfway through a tour of inspection when Hir-Liet, his Reet'Ven navigator, glided down from the highest point of one of the forward steering masts. "Trouble coming, maybe", chirped the small bird-man, folding his wings against his back. "Smoke from the town."

Reet'Ven were effectively birds of prey with arms as well as wings, and whilst their minds couldn't quite grasp all the complexities of language, their inherent spatial awareness made them excellent at judging the currents and peculiarities of the Star-Sea. Hir-Liet was no exception in that respect, and a good fighter as well, with a sword as well as the talons adorning his avian feet. Let's just hope this doesn't lead to a fight, thought the Captain. "Keep an eye on it", he told the bird-man. "We don't want to get caught off-guard."

Phershac said nothing about the sword at his side, which had only just started to vibrate silently in its scabbard. He did not need to touch the hilt, and commune with the weapon's inner magic, to know what that meant.

I hope Lord Serpentine's enjoying this, whoever and wherever he is, thought Strides-Tall as she snatched a breath. She knew the giant was close behind, but in boots more suited for dancing, she could not run for long non-stop. Otherwise, they were evenly matched, her size allowing her to seek refuge in the narrow winding alleys that negated the advantage provided by the monster's much longer stride.

Sanctuary was now in sight, with sails of varying shapes - fans, triangles, squares and ovals - rising above the rooftops, but the elf had to wonder what protection a wooden ship could provide against a creature that could tear a building to pieces in minutes. I hope they're ready to leave immediately, she thought, then drew one last deep breath and started running again.

The adventuress picked just the right moment to move on, for barely a second later a huge fist brought down the the wall she had been resting against.

"Shr'Ganti! Shr'Ganti!", screeched Hir-Liet from his lofty perch. "I see it!"

"What's it doing?", Phershac shouted back, the nature of the disturbance no surprise to him. "It must be smashing the place up for some reason!"

The bird-man was silent for a moment, then dived back to the deck. "Girl", he reported. "She runs. Comes this way."

"Another one of 'Uncle' Petru's customers?", wondered the captain. "But what could she have done to have a Shr'Ganti on her tail?"

Another of the sailors, an elf-like man with silver hair in a long plait, offered an answer. "She has a heart-beat, and ripe, young flesh", he said grimly. "Shr'Ganti like their food fresh."

"He'll go hungry this time", snarled Captain Phershac, his hand moving to his sword and loosening it in its scabbard. "Make ready to leave right away, the Harbour-Masters be damned!"

Phershac moved to the bow of the vessel, and almost straight away he saw the girl - a fabulous, lithe creature with long flowing hair the colour of natural sunlight - dashing out onto the open area where cargo was assembled into lots before being dispatched to their respective ships. The giant was wading through the warehouses now, only a couple of strides behind...a deficit he could easily make up once he got out into the open.

"She won't make it", observed the elfin sailor. "Not unless we help her."

"That's Hurmelth's monster", added another crew-man. "Do we really want to get mixed up in his business?"

"I never leave anyone to the mercies of monsters, be the monster Shr'Ganti or Ha'Myn", said Phershac, the sword leaving its sheath. The weapon quivered so strongly now one could almost hear it hum...

Strides-Tall was halfway between the warehouses and Bay Fifteen when a huge shadow fell over her. She glanced backwards just momentarily, but it was enough to ensure that, if she survived this experience, she would be having nightmares for quite some time.

The elf, in looking over her shoulder, found herself looking almost straight down the razor-toothed giant's throat.

Strides-Tall was distracted for but an instant, but it was all fate needed to punish her. She caught her toe on a bent-over nail, crushed into the wood of the quayside by a heavy crate or barrel, and fell headlong, becoming immersed in the giant's darkness. The elf was agile enough to roll into the fall, and was in position to leap back to her feet, but a gigantic hand was already bearing down on her...

Rolling away, the adventuress almost knocked over someone coming the other way - a dark man with long hair, wielding a sword with a faintly shimmering blade. The Shr'Ganti balled his extended hand into a fist, and swung it at the man, but the sword was raised to meet it.

The giant's skin and muscle shrivelled and charred as it met the blade, and parted as easily as cobwebs. The sword carved easily through bone as well, and the fist came away from the monster's arm, trailing a strand of acrid smoke as it bounced across the planks.

"Get to the ship", ordered the stranger as the Shr'Ganti hunter staggered backwards, howling in pain, and Strides-Tall did not hesitate, springing up and running from the scene of battle. She caught sight of the severed hand, out of the corner of her eye, as she ran past it, and she could swear she saw it twitching.

The girl did not look back until she was near the top of the gangplank, leading up onto the apparently open deck of a rather old, but still well-kept and equipped ship. The giant was down on his knees now, sporting a broad smouldering gash in his left thigh, and holding himself up with his remaining hand, whilst the gallant stranger was running back to his vessel, steam rising from the blade of his sword.

"This looks like being our last visit to Kattan'Gyar", said a silver-haired elfin sailor, who offered Strides-Tall his hand as she climbed aboard. "Can't say I'll miss the place."

The gangplank was already being raised when the swordsman leapt onto the deck beside the elven woman. "Captain Phershac?", she ventured, and he bowed in a most grand, and perhaps even exaggerated manner.

"At your service, fair lady", he said, smiling with a warmth the girl found quite uplifting. "I imagine you're in need of passage off this stinking rock."

"I...I don't have much money...", panted Strides-Tall, never having run so far or for so long in her life.

Phershac looked back at the wounded giant. "Your fare is paid in full, miss", he spat. "You gave me the chance to strike at the murderers of almost my entire family. Resta - whom I suspect you may have met - is all they left me with."

The elf-girl felt her heart turn to cold lead inside her chest. "Captain...I think there's something you should know..."

The Shr'Ganti hunter struggled to his feet as the Wings of Hope unfurled huge, semi-transparent bat-wing-like sails, and began to pull away from the quay, and out into space, which began where the wooden walkway ended. A curse came to his lips, but it was never spoken, for a barbed harpoon launched from the bow of the ship stole his breath forever as it hammered into his chest, and pinned him to the deck.

 

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