Against the Giants by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel, Undead)

tol’ ’im yourself!” she protested.
    “Agya…” the paladin replied with a warning look.
    “Oh, all right,” she hissed and disappeared inside the cave.
    “I didn’t want her hearing this, Nemis, but you will know if
we are taken or dead?”
    The mage nodded.
    “What if we are taken and they search us?”
    “My beneath-notice spell is on the charms,” Nemis replied.
“It may only affect the charm and not the wearer, but tell her of it if she
still worries about the bear.” He looked skyward. “We had better go now.”
    Malowan repositioned the small pack under his cloak and
finished just as Agya reemerged. They followed the mage away from the caves, out
of the ravine, and up a low, brushy slope.
    Near the top, Nemis eased onto his hands and knees. Malowan
shoved his cloak aside and crawled after him. Agya, much shorter than either
man, went into a low crouch and brought up the rear, keeping a wary eye all
around them, though there was little to see and it was still too dark to see
very far.
    Once they reached the crest, Nemis went flat and tugged
Malowan’s ear close. “Can you make it out?” he breathed.
    Malowan gazed out and down, then finally nodded.
    “Good. Straight down the slope you’ll find a boulder and some
thorny scree. Don’t speak once you move from here—it’s near enough the tower
that the guards will hear us.”
    The paladin nodded again, then drew his ward close. She
tensed, then leaned against him briefly.
    “Ready?” he asked softly. She gave him Rowan’s sign for We
go now. Malowan replied in like fashion, then eyed Nemis. “Lead, we’ll
follow.”
    Nemis moved out, low on hands and knees.
    This side of the hill was steeper than the way they’d come
up. The mage reversed himself and eased down feet-first, turned sideways with
one hand out to catch at the tough brush so he wouldn’t slide to the bottom.
What grass there was here was slick with dew and slippery as ice underfoot.
Fortunately, most of the slope was dirt and rock.
    Nemis finally stopped and drew them down with him into a
shallow depression between a fat boulder and thick brush. Malowan edged forward
and gazed down for some moments, then eased silently back, gripped the mage’s
shoulder and without further ado, moved to his right and began working his way
down into the dell. Agya followed.

 
 

     
     
    The air had been icy cold outside the fort, particularly for
Agya who’d had to rub her hands together several times before they were warm
enough to manage her metal lockpicks. Mal stood ready with his sword as his ward
worked at the massive locks. After several minutes, there was an all-too-loud clack as she freed the innermost tumbler. The door swung open.
    Inside, it was cold but not as damp, and the air was stuffy.
Malowan smelled unwashed bodies and sweaty furs, but there was no one in sight.
Agya stepped away from him, eyes moving nonstop while his were still adjusting
to the gloom. It seemed to be a cloakroom, just as Vlandar’s information had
indicated. Huge outer garments hung from pegs. The wall to his right held doors,
a double doorway flanked by a single door to each side. At least, Malowan
thought, there was room for both of them to hide in here.
    Chill air rolled down from above—the guard tower, clearly.
Someone up there was snoring.
    I forgot how huge everything would be, he thought. Agya must
be terrified.
    Surprisingly, his ward seemed only interested. She eyed him
sidelong as he silently moved across the floor to listen at the entry to the
tower passage. Malowan signed that there was only one guard and he was sleeping.
    Agya turned to check out the rest of the entry-chamber, and
he came over to help.
    An overturned ale keg contributed to the sour smell, but damp
furs and wet wool seemed to account for most of the stench. Agya eyed the
various sacks flung down beneath the rack of pegs and shook her head. Nothing
worth searching.
    He tapped her arm to get her