The group saw their first thundress mid-morning.
The sun was high and they had ridden the Silt Pass down from Gorn towards the dark mountains of the Nidings, crossing grassy hills but sticking close to tree cover. The land of Clear Valley was fertile and beautiful, a great frontier that was actually multiple valleys, and plateaus, separating Burgwec’s fortified ridge from the mountain range. It was peaceful, too, less developed than the fields that surrounded Burgwec. Arabel wondered how hard it would be to adapt to the trials of the Valley; you’d pick up tricks for avoiding the roaming monsters, surely, and the benefit would be untouched, glorious scenery. Besides, they had been travelling all morning, six people on horseback, and had not attracted the attention of anything worse than a travelling tradesman who’d offered them wares from his cart. Dansot had turned him away with more aggression than was necessary.
As Arabel settled into such thoughts, however, Eko brought their troop to a stop, sensing something ahead of everyone else. She rushed them to take the horses down a slope and tie them off, then she scouted back up, peering over the tip of a hill from behind the cover of hedges. The rest of the group crawled up after her, Arabel on the outer edge, swallowing fear as she looked into open countryside.
An unpaved road cut between the base of the grassy ridge they watched from and an open field. There was a couple of carriages on the road, kicking up dust as they moved at top speed. Beyond them, across the vast field, was a shape that looked like a great statue, a woman standing impossible tall out of the haze. Her arms and legs were curved with muscle, skin bronze, and she wore a sheet of leather over her waist, tied with rope, and a similar strap of leather bound her chest; big enough to wrap around a ship, perhaps, but only just concealing the bulk of her breasts. Her dark hair was tied tight to her scalp in braids that ran down to hang over her shoulders, and her face was painted with menacing black lines across her cheeks and mouth. She had similar markings across her arms and legs, and carried a huge sack in one hand.
But statuesque as she first appeared, grand as the largest buildings in Burgwec, she moved and broke the illusion. The sack flapped like a sail as she took a huge step across the field, earth caving under the weight of her bare foot. Arabel half-rose with fascination, seeing the ends of the giantess’s braids were moving, too – there were people hanging from them, legs kicking as they swung with her movements. There was a leather strap around the enormous woman’s thigh, too, with three more bodies hanging there, bouncing against her flesh.
All sorts of thoughts came back to Arabel from her studies. Old etchings of the giants of the Nidings and fabulous tales of their culture and traditions. As well as feasting on human flesh, the thundresses kept humans as playthings, servants and, as she could see now, living jewellery. It had enthralled Arabel when she read such things in the libraries of Hangsun Keep, to think of beings so powerful that they could reduce others’ lives to nothing more than an adornment, with people strapped to necklaces or bracelets. Only now that she saw it did Arabel fully appreciate the horror of that fate. How long had they been there for, dangling ignored against the giant’s body?
The thundress took another step, towards the carriages in the road, and Arabel’s wonder turned to fear as she realised they were in the middle of a chase.
“Can you do something?” she asked quickly, to whoever would answer.
“No time,” Eko said. “We’d only expose ourselves.”
Arabel looked to Caracae, posing the same question. The witch did not return her look, too interested in watching the unfolding action, but she said, “They’re too far away.”
The ground trembled as the giant woman got closer, and all Arabel could do was watch, willing the travellers to move faster, escape. The thundress was not in a hurry, though; with sweeping, casual strides, she cleared the field in seconds and reached the road, the riders whipped the carriage horses to full pelt. One more step brought the giant’s foot crashing into the road ahead. The horses couldn’t stop in time, slamming into a foot as tall as a wall, their frightened neighs reaching up the hill. The reigns snapped as the carriage followed, breaking against the foot in a devastating crash. The driver and his passenger jumped clear, their luggage exploding over them.
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The second carriage had more luck, managing to stop short, but there was no time or space to turn. The driver jumped down and shouted and thumped the waggon. This one had passengers, who leapt out – two women in flapping dresses. The entire party scattered, two running one way, two the other, up Arabel’s group’s hill, and the last, a man from the first carriage, left struggling to get up from the wreckage. The thundress stood over them with such scale that the people looked as small as the thugs Caracae had shrunk the night before. She considered them for a moment before reaching down. First she snatched up the man in the road who was lamely trying to stand and tossed him shouting into the sack. Then she grabbed one of the women, who screamed as she was lifted and inspected.
The cries made the driver of the second carriage stop as he scrambled up the slope of the hill. He turned back – was she his girlfriend or wife? The giantess noticed his quandary and cocked her head to one side. The man yelled defiance and he charged back down the slope. He whipped up a shard of wood from the broken carriage and ran swinging it over his head. Eko clicked her tongue at his dumb bravery, and sure enough the giant woman was entirely unimpressed. She placed the sack down and reached for him, closing her fist around his waist before he could even swing a pathetic blow at her. She squeezed as she lifted him off the ground and he dropped the wood. The giant held up both man and woman, looking from one to another, considering them as a couple – then she decided, and raised the man to her mouth. The woman doubled her screaming, beating at the giant’s fingers, as her struggling partner was shoved into the enormous mouth. He kicked desperately as his legs disappeared between the giant lips, then the thundress swallowed and turned to the woman. The woman collapsed into tears in her fist.
Satisfied, the giant grabbed the sack again and threw the woman inside. She rose up slightly, turning one way and another to check for the last victims, and Arabel pressed tighter into the grass. The thundress looked the other way and reached back, stretching. The last man had crossed the far field, making her lean back, but her hand came up with him all the same. He was thrown into the sack, too, then the giant locked eyes on their hill. The group collectively flinched back, lower, but Arabel saw with horror that monster had spotted the final passenger, the other woman. She was caught on something, halfway up the hill, out in the open and pulling at her dress. She cried and pleaded as she tried to get free, a young, pretty woman in fine pink silks. Eko pulled Arabel further down, to keep out of view as the giant woman shifted forward, huge torso coming frighteningly closer. The woman shrieked as the giant plucked her out of the field, ripping her skirt off whatever had barbed it.
The thundress held the screaming woman up to her face and rotated her one way then another, chewing a lip. Considering whether or not to keep her. Arabel prayed, please, please, just let her go. As if there was any possibility. She hissed, “Caracae, it’s closer now, surely –”
“Not with anyone in its grip,” Caracae whispered. “I’d shrink them all, as well as give us away.”
“There’s only one!” Arabel said. “Nothing else would know –”
The captured woman gave an especially piercing scream that drew Arabel’s gaze back to see the thundress pressing her to her shoulder, rearranging her with her fingers. The thundress stood up, towering over the entire world as she continued fiddling with her prey. She looked from side to side, checking for more victims, as the woman’s legs kicked from her grip. Then she let go and turned the other way, lowering her hands, and a braid slipped down near her neck, revealing her work: the pink-dressed woman was tangled through the end of the braid, tied with her arms threaded between loops of hair. She kicked in terrified panic. The thundress smirked, pleased by her struggles, as it lifted the huge sack and took a stride away. Arabel cringed against the shaking ground as the monster left, hunting for more travellers. How many people would she capture to fill that sack?
Arable regretted her earlier thoughts entirely. No one should live in this land.
Looking along the line of her companions, she saw the feeling was mutual. They were mostly pale-faced. Dansot ground his teeth with tension; Eko was tight from frustration, feeling she could have helped. Caracae was calm, though, thoughtful, and when the witch felt Arabel watching her, she turned to face her and smiled.
“You could have done something,” Arabel told her quietly.
“Maybe next time,” Caracae replied.