CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next morning they were woken by Simon and shuffled down for strong tea and bread, butter, and strange jam. Marasoldig was already done with two plates of eggs. Davram and Slim Rowon sat with her and drank their tea. The sun was not yet up.

"Which way is the castle?" Slim Rowon asked Simon.

"Follow the road north-east. Through a ravine. It is on a mountaintop. It is black, and looks ruined. There are evil things lurking there."

"Right," Slim Rowon said. "How far?"

"On foot, four days. At the least."

"On bowrks?" Marasoldig asked.

"By nightfall."

"We don't have bowrks," Slim Rowon said.

"I do," Marasoldig replied and continued eating.

"You look different, Marasoldig," Davram said.

Slim Rowon studied her.

"I cleaned myself last night."

"Oh. That's what it is," Slim Rowon said and looked at Davram. Both were still filthy with dried mud.

"Yes. Meet me outside when you're done eating," she said and pushed away her empty plate. She got up and went outside.

Slim Rowon smoked some bertie, then ate a handful of mushrooms he had hidden in an inner pocket. They finished breakfast and departed the tavern with their bellies full.

Marasoldig had hitched four bowrks to the empty prison cell wagon.

"Where are the owners?" Slim Rowon asked.

"I am the owner. Davram. You'll sit with me. You, baby cock, you sit in the cage. I don't have the keys so don't let the door close and lock. If that happens, we will have to leave you behind."

Davram sat up front and Slim Rowon sat in the cell. The wagon rumbled along, slogging through the mud. The bowrks stank, but Marasoldig controlled them with skill, pushing them through the land.

The rain drizzled just enough to keep their clothes perpetually damp. Slim Rowon grumbled every time the cage door swung and hit his foot that he used as a door jam. He pulled out his pipe and his coalkeep, popping a little ember into the pipe and smoked more bertie.

"Is that alberta?" Marasoldig asked, smelling the smoke.

"You fancy a puff?" Slim Rowon asked.

"Later."

"Davram?"

Davram took a big puff.

"That's my boy," Slim Rowon laughed.

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They rode on for awhile. Slim Rowon played a merry tune, contrary to the gloomy clouds and depressing rain.

"Why did you pledge yourself to me?" Davram asked.

"The rules of the world dictate my actions. It is one of the rules."

"What is the rule?"

"You saved my life. I owe you mine. A simple rule."

"I did not save your life."

"You called the soldier as he dragged me. It was enough time for me to kill him. If you had not, my head would be cut off and rolled in mud and pissed on by ugly men."

"What did they want you for?" Slim Rowon asked from the back.

"Gambling. Bribery. Theft. Kidnapping. Piracy. Murder."

"Did you do these things?" Slim Rowon asked.

"Yes," Marasoldig answered.

"Splendid."

"You must be kind to others," Davram said.

"Kindness can be exploited. It is in no rule to be kind."

"It is the only rule I know."

Marasoldig stared at Davram, sitting huddled in his wretched clothes, a boy smiling at her. She turned back to the road ahead. They travelled through much of the day. Then, suddenly, there it was.

A dark castle far up a sharp mountain. A massive black marble bridge connected the castle to the cliff high up. It was the only entrance into the castle.

They took the wagon up a winding trappers trail, made for hunters and trappers, long before the land was cursed.

They arrived at the colossal bridge, the bowrks heaving from the strain of pulling the wagon uphill. Marasoldig let them rest a moment.

"This is a tainted place," Slim Rowon said.

"Yes," Marasoldig said. "I will smoke that alberta now."

"Sure thing."

Slim Rowon filled the pipe and handed it to her. She smoked the entirety in two long breaths. She handed back the pipe. It seemed she held the smoke in for a minute or two. Then she let out a large billow.

"This is good bertaleaf," she said.

"We found it on our journey. We have much of it."

She nodded. The three stared up at the looming black castle.

"It is a stupid looking castle," Marasoldig said.

"Seems alright to me," Slim Rowon said.

"The Prince who built it was a depraved magician. He would eat children, kidnapping them from all corners of the world, to be brought here. They were fed and cleaned, made healthy, so that he could serve himself a dinner every night."

Slim Rowon and Davram stared at her for a long time.

"That's... Wow. That's a lot." Slim Rowon said.

"His name was Histhtu, and he created a crown of gold, embedded with priceless diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. They say that there is some dark power to the crown."

"This sounds far more expensive than a map. We're going to have to charge Simon extra."

"Look," Davram pointed to the far end of the bridge.

"What do you see?" Slim Rowon asked, squinted.

"There is a very large man. Sleeping. He is as big as an oak tree."

"A giant. Does he have any weapons about? Clubs? Giant axes?"

"I see a tree trunk in his hand."

"Splendid."

"I will slay the giant," Marasoldig said and got out of the wagon. She picked up a huge battle-axe from the side of the wagon.

"Where in hell did you get that?" Slim Rowon asked.

"There was another soldier that came later. I took it from him after I severed his head from his neck. It is a very finely made axe for such a stupid soldier. He must have looted it from a battlefield. It is in proper hands now. I shall walk up and kill the giant. Wait here until it is dead, then ride to me. If it kills me, return to the tavern or leave the land. You will not succeed without me."

She walked away, heading down the bridge. Slim Rowon blew out some smoke.

"What shall we do, Davram?" he asked.

"She seems very skilled at killing."

"Perhaps. I'll step in if it seems she's in danger."

"That is very noble of you, Slim Rowon."

"Thank you, Davram. It is just the way I am."

"Ivishinai."

"Exactly."

Marasoldig walked the long, black bridge. It was made of large chunks of black marble. The spaces between the blocks so thin, there had to be some magic involved in its construction. She came to the giant, who slept against a large wooden door which was locked. It seemed around ten or eleven feet, large and muscular, brutish in face. It had but one eye in the center of its forehead. They were stupid creatures. But also extremely violent.

Marasoldig picked up a large stone and threw it at the giant. The stone hit the giant in the head and it roared awake. It clutched its head and bellowed with fury. The giant grabbed the tree trunk and looked down the bridge. He saw Marasoldig standing there, holding the battle-axe with both hands.

"YOU!" the giant yelled.

"You stupid, slow, piece of shit. I've come to cut off your cock and balls."

The giant roared and ran for her.