Iamerge followed Gospels along the shoulder of the roadway as Ui Birlinn’s column slowly passed.  As tired as Rhaury and his men were in front, clearly the men in the rear were more so.  These were likely the men who had come upon the monsters who were ravaging the other caravan and had driven them off.  Most bore worse than the haggard look of exhaustion, many wore bandages and other signs of wounding.

When the column was passed Iamerge caught up to Gospels and began to walk beside him.  Gospels was whispering to himself, he seemed unaware of Iamerge or at least preoccupied in his own thoughts.  With the column passed Iamerge began to look to their safety.  The slope was steep and there wasn’t much undergrowth to hide attackers.  Iamerge could see the ruins of the unfortunate caravan a little farther ahead.  He breathed a sigh of relief, It looks like we will be among friendlies long before any enemy could come on us, he thought.

“Do you know much of healing Iamerge?” Gospels surprised him, so used had he become to Gospels murmurings as they walked.

“I know a bit, enough to bind my own wounds and a broken bone now and then,” Iamerge glanced over at Gospels, “Do you think we will need the little skill I have?”

“That and God’s help will avail us much,” said Gospels. “I fear that there will be much need of both.”

“Ask your God for strength, I do believe you are right,” as they approached the wreckage they were hailed by Ui Birlinn’s men who had been left as guards and to see, as well as they could, to the wounded that yet lived.  Before they reached them, they saw many who were beyond help.  The men were badly torn and wretchedly laid out in their death throes.

“Be sure I have been.” said Gospels.

As night fell, Gospels had the guardsmen build up a large bon fire.  Others were detailed to move the wounded into the light and warmth of it.  Gospels sent men to forage for cloth to be used as bandages and anything else that might be of use. 

Iamerge employed his medical knowledge, meager as it was, at Gospel’s direction.  The monk seemed to have a good idea of who might be saved and who, among the wounded, were more in need of comfort, this Gospels gave unstinting.  They battled in this way as the Wanderer rushed across the sky and set at the head of the valley, but it had not returned when Hebrews and ten more brothers came into the camp bringing all things needful and many helping hands more adept at the healing arts than were Iamerge’s.

When Iamerge would have withdrawn, exhausted, Gospels called him again.  “Iamerge, Conal needs an ear, and company.  Will you sit with him?”

“Surely Gospels,” said Iamerge and found himself sitting with a body with no legs and many bandages.

“Thanks brother,” said what was left of the man, “that Gospels, he told me about his Lord, and about. . .” the man was weeping and as Iamerge knelt, coming near, a hand came from the mass of bandages and clung to him, “. . . he told me about forgiveness in his Jesus.  Can it be true?”

Iamerge gaped, fumbling for what he might say to comfort the man, “I’ve never heard Gospels tell anything but the truth.”

“That’s what I thought,” said the better part of a man. Iamerge patted the mans hand and sat silently.  The man sobbed, “I’ve made a mess of things, I prayed with him, that Gospels, but he can’t know what I done– so I was just askin’.”

“If Gospels said it, you can be sure. . .”

“All the wrong I done’s paid for, forgiven because of this Jesus . . . ” The man wept and Iamerge sat silently beside, “. . . that I’ll see him when I die.”

The man relaxed and let out a sigh. Iamerge thought he’d passed and began to draw away his hand.  “Thanks brother,” the man said weakly, “I’m okay, ain’t that somethin’?”

“I just thought you’d fallen asleep. . .” Iamerge said, embarassed.

“Nah, soon. What was yer name, friend?”

“Iamerge”

“That’s right! Gospels called you that.  Thanks Iamerge.  I’m Conal.” The man pulled his hand back against his body, “Go ‘head, there’s others that can use you.”

Conal closed his eyes.  Iamerge rose and fled into the night.

Oatey was faster than she looked.  She fairly flew down the ridge and repeated the same attack that had killed the first goat.  For some time there was no chance for questions.  Lugh kept with the girl and the charging goat and not much more.

“The problem as he saw it,” Lugh mused, “was too much riding and not enough running.”  Still, he was close to her when they burst into another clearing dominated by an unlit bon-fire.  The goat looked worse than he did, head down, panting, but not for long.  With a deft slash Oatey put the goat out of its misery.

Oatey turned to the stacked wood.  Lugh was panting, hands on knees, watching her as she struck a spark in tinder and blew it into flame.  She thrust the flame into the wood and the bonfire flared to life.  Without hesitation she turned back to the goat.  With practiced ease she cut the legs free and threw them, one after another, onto the growing fire.  Smoke billowed.  “Help me with the body.” Oatey commanded.

Lugh grabbed the blood soaked animal and with Oatey threw it onto the bonfire.  “How is this going to kill a giant?”

Oatey stood, bloody to her elbows, hair, sweat matted to her head, and for all that, beautiful.  She smiled, “This is for confusion.”

“Wonderful, the giant and I are both confused.” 

“We stand over there.  The giant is drawn to this, burning meat, destruction of burning.  Then he smells us, sees us, comes for us.  We run down that defile and as he pursues, mad with hunger and hatred, he dies.” Oatey beamed her pride, “Come, the giant is near.”

Oatey, running like the wind, dashed off with her purpose clearly in mind.  Lugh, blowing hard, followed as he could.  As he followed he saw that there was indeed a cut in the rock ringed clearing.  Oatey slowed and stopped at a sort of edge where the grade turned steeply down.  Lugh slowed and was shocked to hear a booming, as of a drum, from his feet as they struck the earth, as if it were hollow. 

“A false floor, we can cross, but the giant will break though and his feet will find copper thorns but no better purchase to keep him from falling there.”  Oatey grinned mischieviously, “Have a look.” 

Oatey pointed down and standing next to her Lugh saw men of the Norfolk standing below.  Each of the men was manning a wicked looking pike rigged among the trees in the creek bed below.  There were others standing by thick ropes farther into the trees.

Oatey nudged Lugh, “For now we are the bait.”  She pointed back toward the fire. “See, he comes.”

The creature was every bit of fourteen feet and frightful in its wrath.  It was a man in everything but size and yet this similarity to a man made it seem all the more alien to Lugh.  The skin, that had been grey and stone like as it rose from the hillock that had covered it, was now pallid white.  Red hair covered its head and a matted beard covered its jaw and chest.  The giant howled its rage in deep booming Rus that Lugh knew from his travels.

“Lugh, when I say so, run down the ramp with me.  Keep your feet as long as you can.  When we hit the soft ground at the base we must roll aside.  Do you understand?  Oatey searched his eyes and seemed satisfied with his nod.  “He is hungry, angry, but he begins to speak.  Do you know his words?”

Lugh nodded, “aye, yes, tis Rus.  He spouts threats and dark promises.”

“Yes, he is human now, no longer stone.  His wits are returning, but we must catch him in his rage.  Lugh, you must wait with me until I go, else he may realize the trap.  But now he is flesh and we can kill him easily.”

“Oh gods, how can you say easy?”

The giant held in two huge hands an uprooted tree.  Most of the branches were torn free and the man thing swung it like a maul with the remains of the root ball, the head of it.  With one wild swing he shattered the bonfire, sending its parts across the clearing.  Then his eyes fell on the pair.  His howl convinced Lugh all the more that this thing was no human.

Oatey’s grasp caused pain, “Wait!” she commanded as the giant charged howling its rage.  The giant swung its tree-club into the air and pounded toward them impossibly fast.  Its strides ate up the intervening ground and Lugh’s blood ran cold.  “Come,” Oatey said and dragged him after.

The track was steep but he had almost made it to the base when he tripped and began to roll.  Oatey was already down and rolling toward what Lugh hoped was a soft landing.  The impact was was jarring, stunned he tried to figure out which way to roll. 

Oatey yelled, “Quickly here.”  He scrambled after and was stunned again as he was thrown aside by opening gates buried in the ground.  He lay looking up the slope horrified to see the giant stumble and fall. 

The tree bound pikes were swinging into position to meet it.  Armored men, with copper axes, were boiling out from cover around them.  The huge man was pierced shoulder, chest, and gut, but his weight could not be stopped.  The pikes shattered, and the creature turned as it fell.  Lugh feared he might be crushed, but he was far enough away as the thing went behind the huge doors onto which he and Oatey had fallen.

He looked around for her.  Trying to gather himself he clambered to his feet searching for her.  She was gone.  Armed and armored men were rushing into the defile where the body of the giant had fallen, surely dead with the wounds.  He followed expecting that he might find the girl at the center of mayhem.

As he rounded the door, following in the wake of the axe men.  He caught a glimpse of the man-thing impaled among a forest of copper clad and barbed spikes.  “Easy she’d said, what creature had a chance against her?” he had the chance to think.  The axe men were pushing through the spikes from all sides now.  Lugh couldn’t understand the urgency.

Suddenly, the thing moved, pinned as it was through almost every part of its body, the movements were slight and somewhat aimless.  A big six-fingered hand rose near Lugh, but only just off the ground as the arm was pierced with many barbed spikes.  It smashed down and the arm strained against the piercings.  “I’ll eat you all, damn bugs.  You’ll pay!”  The thing howled its protest.  The giant’s face turned to Lugh and its one undamaged eye focused on him.  “I’ll pop you like a maggot too Gael boy!”

“The head! Strike off its head!”  Oatey cried, she was in the thick of it, moving toward the giant’s shoulders.  Lugh saw rage turn to fear on the giants face.  It redoubled its efforts as the Norfolk soldiers clambered onto its back.  Lugh watched as stroke after stroke bit into the thick corded neck of the giant.  Men lost their balance and fell only to rise again and seek to climb up onto the giant.  Lugh marvelled at how much damage it absorbed before it grew still, but even then Oatey harangued and cajoled until the head was completely removed.

A ragged cheer went up and injured axe men began to be tended to.  None of the injuries that Lugh saw seemed severe.  Easy, like she’d said.  Lugh expelled a tension filled breath and went looking for the girl.