A Wizard In Midgard Read online

  Why on earth should he have given her such a shining look? She could almost have sworn he was proud of her stand! But all he said was, "I chose better than I knew when I asked you to travel with me. Let's go be good guests to generous hosts, then."

  He turned away, and Alea followed, only a pace or two to the side, wondering why her knees felt weak. It must have been her fear of the giants. She found herself hoping that none of them would find her pretty.

  The first sign that they were coming to the village was a dozen giants leveling the earth of the roadway with six-foot-wide rakes, then spreading sand over it, then levering slabs of rock two feet thick and six feet square into place on top. Riara and her party hailed them, and the giants grinned and waved back, then stared at the two guests and clustered around, gesturing and bombarding them with questions. Alea shrank back, she couldn't help it, but Gar grinned widely and answered every question and asked a number in his turn. He seemed very interested in their system of roadwork, and Alea could have screamed at him in frustration-but she saw his strategy quickly enough; in minutes, the road crew were discussing construction techniques with him, and not the viciousness and prejudices of Midgarders. In fact, they seemed to accept him as an equal, and not even all that much of a stranger.

  "How did you manage to, make them friends so quickly?" she asked as Riara led their party onward.

  "Masons welcome one another everywhere there are people," Gar told her.

  Alea frowned. "I didn't know you were a mason."

  "Well, not that kind," Gar admitted, "but I'm interested in everything." He looked up at the nearest giant. "Where is that road going?"

  "Back to Jotunheim," the big fellow told him. "We're only a colony, you know, up here in the North Country. Things were getting crowded back home-we could see the smoke of three other villages on the horizon."

  "Yes, definitely time to look for more elbow room," Gar agreed. "But your colony must be doing very well, if you can spare the time to build a road."

  The giant shrugged. "We enjoy building. When we have an hour or two free, we like to use it to make things of stone." They had obviously had quite a few hours to lavish on their village. Gar and Alea's first sight of it was a huge wall twenty-five feet high, and all of stone. It stretched out a quarter mile to either side. She stopped and stared. "Do you call this a village?"

  Orla, the young giant woman beside her, shrugged. They had become acquainted while they were walking, and Alea was amazed how quickly Orla had put her at her ease. "There are only a few hundred of us living here-but we do need more room than you. . . ," She stopped abruptly, leaving the word hanging, and Alea had just time enough to realize Orla had kept herself from saying "Midgarders" before the giant woman hurried on. "You would think that, if we're only half again as tall, we'd need only half as much room-but it isn't like that, any more than my being half again as tall should mean I'm only half again as wide." She grinned down at Alea. "I'm more than twice as wide as you, as you can see, and I need four times as much space."

  "And four times as much, when you have hundreds of people......" Alea shook her head in wonder, staring at the massive wall before her. "To us, that would be a town, and a big one!"

  It seemed even bigger as they went through the gates, the hunters waving and joking with the sentries who leaned over the top of the wall, and the gate-guards who stood at its foot. They walked, and walked, and walked-the wall was twelve feet thick, or more!

  "Is it solid all the way through?" Alea asked, wide-eyed.

  "Of course!" Orla answered. "How else could it hold the weight of an army of giants?"

  "An army? Where?" Alea darted fearful glances all about as they came past the wall and into the town.

  "Here." Orla tapped her chest, grinning. "And, there, and there." She pointed at the other hunters, then at the houses, then swept her arm to include the whole village. "All about you! We're all the army, everyone sixteen years and olderif we have to be. We can't understand how you ... how those Midgarders can afford to waste people who could be soldiers by making them slaves!"

  "Looking at you, I can't understand it either," Alea Agreed. But she wasn't looking at Orla, she was looking all about her at the giants' village.

  All their buildings were of stone, real stone, though the older ones were built of irregular field stones set cleverly together. The newer ones were of quarried stone, so closely fitted that she didn't even see room for mortar. They were each of only one story, though-she was amazed all over again at the thought that fifteen feet from ground to rafters was only one story! But there was only one course of windows, their tops on a level with the door's, so it had to be only one-and for a ten-foot giant, surely that wasn't too much room. The roofs were thatched, and she suspected there was timber beneath the straw-but there were no second floors. She wasn't surprised-she wouldn't have wanted to try to build a floor that would have held the weight of half a dozen of these people, and would have wanted even less to be in the room below them. Why, such a chamber would have needed so many pitlars that it would have seemed a granite forest!

  The houses were set wide apart, with sheep cropping grass around fruit trees. For a village, it was open and roomy-but it must have seemed almost crowded, to the giants. Alea was amazed by the room, and the richness of so much rock-she had seen very few stone buildings in her life, only the temple, the village hall, and the earl's castle. All the others had been of wattle and daub-but here, even the poorest giant had a stone dwelling!

  If there was a poorest giant. All the houses looked to be pretty much of a size, with one great building looming over the rest-the village hall, no doubt-and the people all wore very similar clothing, tunics with cross-gartered bias-hosen, all dyed in bright colors. What a contrast to her own dun-andgray hamlet! But looking at the women, she realized she need not have worried about lustful young giants-all of them were like Riara, Orla, and the other female hunters. She had assumed that any who went hunting would be rougher than most, more sturdily built-but she saw that all the giant women were as thick in limb and body as Riara and the women of her band. If there was any difference between men and women, it was that the men had heavier faces, as though they'd been hewn from blocks of granite by a mason with a dull adze, while the women's faces seemed dainty by comparison. On the road, Alea had thought Riara looked like a section of tree trunk with the bark left on-but next to the men of her age, she seemed almost delicate. The women had breasts and broader hips, of course, though the difference seemed slight when all had such mighty limbs and the men's chests were so heavily, muscled. Alea was certainly far too frail for their notion of beauty. The giant women made her feel petite and dainty for the first time in her life, and she very much appreciated it.

  She realized that the only reason Rokir and Jorak, the two pubescent outcasts, had desired her was because they'd been raised as Midgarders, with the shorter people's ideal of prettiness. Of course, they'd also wanted to use her as a target for revenge on the people who had cast them out, perhaps even their own mothers. _

  The thought gave her a chill, and she forced it aside, made the effort to turn her attention to the amazing sights about her again. She was fascinated to see that the women were no shorter than the men-but the giants varied so much in size that it didn't seem to matter. Most were ten feet tall, or thereabouts, but some were only nine feet, some eleven, and a few twelve feet tall, or nearly. Some of the women were shorter than some of the men, some were taller, and nobody cared.

  They were all massive, though, very massive, and Alea wasn't surprised to see that the pathways were only earth, but packed so hard she doubted even a flood could turn them to mud. When the clay bore the tread of so many feet with so much weight upon them, it probably packed as hard as brick.

  Then she saw a Midgarder and cried out in surprise and fear, ducking behind Orla.

  "What? Is someone trying to hurt you?"

  Alea looked up and was amazed to see Gar standing there, arm out to support, hand out to
comfort, though he didn't touch her. Only a moment ago, he'd been talking to a man half his size!

  "No one's trying to hurt her," Orla assured him, and reached down to touch Alea's shoulder, ever so lightly. "No . one will. What frightened you, friend Alea?"

  Friend! Alea stared up at her wide-eyed, caught between delight and fear. "The Midgarder-he mustn't see me!"

  "Midgarder?" Orla frowned. "There are no . . ."

  "There." Gar jerked his head toward the middle-aged man who was approaching, face all concern.

  Orla looked up. "Oh, you mean Garlon? He's no Midgarder, he's my father."

  Gar and Alea both stared.

  Garlon slowed, nearing. them, and smiled. "It's true enough, young folk. I'm a giant, despite my inches-or lack of them-because, you see, I'm the son of two giants!"

  "It's quite possible," Gar said, wide-eyed. "Recessive genes don't always link up."

  Alea turned to him in irritation. "What nonsense are you talking?"

  "Rude nonsense," Gar told her, then to Garlon, "My apologies, goodman. I shouldn't have stared, but you took me quite by surprise." After all, he reflected, it's one thing to see them in orbital photographs, but quite another to meet them and find they have names.

  "I don't mind at all," Garlon said, holding out a hand. "We're not used to visitors, you see, and especially not ones from Midgard, so we don't think to explain in advance."

  Gar shook his hand. "So giants sometimes have Midgardsized children or grandchildren?"

  "Yes, and sometimes smaller-I've four of my own children, and Orla is the only one who's a giant."

  Orla nodded. "My sister and my younger brother are a little shorter than you, and my older brother is almost short enough to be a dwarf."

  "There are even a fair number of dwarf children born to each generation," Garlon explained, "but when they're grown, they generally band together and travel to Nibelheim, looking for mates."

  "Isn't the North Country dangerous, though?" Gar asked, frowning.

  Garlon grinned. "Our children are a match for any dogs or pigs, stranger, I assure you of that-if there are enough of them."

  "Fascinating," Gar said. "But the most vicious predators walk on two legs, not four."

  "You mean the bandits cast out of Midgard, and the hunters who track them?" Orla grinned. "Giant brothers and'. sisters escort the dwarves, so they always survive the trip. Then the giants born of Nibels come back with them, to seek mates here-though truth to tell, they often find them on the trip, among one another."

  "It must be hard to say goodbye to a child forever," Gar said to Garlon, face somber.

  "Oh, they manage to send messages home with the rare travelers who happen by," Garlon assured him. "The North Country isn't an absolute waste, and there are caravans of merchants now and then. Even bandits think twice about attacking a hundred well-armed dwarves, or a dozen giants."

  "Or sixty of both together," Orla amended.

  "Amazing," Alea breathed.` "They never told us any of this at home!"

  "No, because they wanted you to believe we're monsters, or at least completely different from you," Garlon told her. "Of course," Gar said slowly. "If Midgarders knew that you have children their own size, they'd have to think of you as people, like themselves!"

  "Indeed they would." For a moment, Garlon's disgust showed, but he hid it quickly. "Then, of course, they'd have no excuse to go on enslaving one another, or driving out the ones who grow too big." He looked up at Orla. "How was the hunting, daughter?"

  "Good enough, Father," Orla swung a game bag off her shoulder and down to him. "There's a dozen geese and eight partridges in there, and the other hunters did as well or better."

  Garlon staggered. under the weight of the bag, but bore up bravely and turned away. "Come, let us show this bounty to your mothers! Strangers, will you dine with us tonight?"

  Alea stared, surprised by the invitation, but Gar said, "We'd be delighted. How kind of you to ask."

  "I think the whole village may feast on the common, Father," Orla said as she fell in beside him. "Together, we managed to fell an ox, but I'm sure you've seen that."

  "I have indeed, and that's reason enough for feasting tonight," Garlon puffed. "I'm glad you had a good day." He beamed up at Orla with pride. "I wondered when you chose Dumi as your goddess when you were so small, but you've proved true to her in every way."

  Orla blushed with pleasure, seeming to expand a little with her father's praise, though he only came up to her bottom rib.

  Gar frowned. "Who is DUMP"

  "The goddess of the hunt," Orla told him. "Don't you learn of her, in Midgard?"

  "No, we don't," Alea said. "Tell me of her!"

  "Well, she's a virgin goddess," Orla said, grinning, "but I don't intend to imitate her in that, at least not forever. I think I'll have to go visit relatives in Jotunheim, though."

  "I suppose you will," Garlon sighed, "but there are half a dozen young men here who are worthy of you, Orla, hard though it is for me to admit it."

  Gar smiled. "I thought no father ever thought any man was good enough for his daughter."

  "Well, I do have to strive to keep an open mind," Garlon admitted.

  "All the young men here are very nice," Orla sighed, "but none of them makes my heart beat any faster."

  Alea stared at her. "What has that to do with marriage?" Orla stared back. Then her face darkened with anger. "By the goddess! Those Midgarders only give you a choice between two kinds of slavery, don't they?"

  Gar said quickly, "Do I take it that a woman can live with respect and comfort here even if she doesn't marry?"

  "Of course!" Garlon said in surprise. "What loving father would make his daughter marry a man she doesn't love, just to have a living?"

  "True," Alea said bitterly, "but if that is so, Midgard is filled with unloving fathers." She sent up a prayer of thanks to Freya that she had not been so cursed.

  Garlon scowled, but before he could say anything, they came out between two houses to the village green. Giants were clustered around with a liberal sprinkling of smaller people, watching two huge young men wrestling, stripped to the waist and shiny with sweat.

  Orla slowed, her eye gleaming. "Let's watch for a little while, Father."

  "Why, as you wish, child," Garlon said, giving her a sly look.

  They moved onto the grass and stopped twenty feet from the wrestlers. Alea saw why Orla was interested-even she felt a tremor of response inside her at the sight of those huge muscles sliding beneath burnished skin, even though the men were blocky and lumpy by her own standards. She found it interesting that they had very little body hair, even though they had thick and luxuriant beards. Perhaps they shaved.... Gar watched with great interest as the two men grappled, then sprang apart, panting, then sprang together again. Suddenly one giant went shooting up into the air, sailed back, and landed with an impact that shook the ground. The crowd made noises of approval, but Gar almost shouted with delight. "Well thrown! Deftly done!"

  The thrown rolled and rose up, but the victor turned to Gar with a grin. "Many thanks, little man. I'm surprised you could see what I did. I didn't know Midgard paid any attention to wrestling."

  "I'm not your average Midgarder," Gar told him.

  "Then perhaps you'd like to try a fall or two," the young giant said.

  A slow grin spread over Gar's face. Alea turned to him in a panic, but before she could say anything, he had stepped forward, casting away his cloak and slipping out of his tunic. "Why, thank you! I'd love the exercise. What are your rules?"

  10

  "For one, we don't allow people like young Skorag to wrestle when there's so great a difference in size!" Garlon protested, hurrying forward.

  "Difference in size? I'm only nine feet tall, Goodman GarIon, and your guest must be seven!" the young giant protested.

  "Seven, and a few years older and more experienced than you," Gar told him. He stepped close and dropped into a wrestler's crouch. "Someone say'go.' "r />
  "Go!" rumbled a dozen voices.

  "Orla, stop them!" Alea cried. "Gar will be squashed!"

  "What can we do, when the young bucks are so determined to impress us?" Orla sighed.

  Alea turned to stare. Could that really be what was pushing Gar into this fight? But why would he want to impress her? Skorag shouted and slapped at Gar-and the smaller man swung in to tangle the giant's legs somehow. Skorag lurched forward; Gar pulled on an arm, and the young giant fell.

  The crowd shouted with delight and surprise. Other giants stopped what they were doing to look up, then came to see what was going on.

  Skorag climbed to his feet with a savage grin. "Not bad, little fellow! First fall to you-but I'll take the second."

  "Toss me if you can," Gar taunted. Skorag did. Alea didn't see exactly how-she only saw Gar cartwheeling up into the sky, and cried out in fright.

  Orla's arm clasped her shoulders. "Don't fear, little sister. They. . ."

  Laughing, Skorag caught Gar as though he were a baby, then tumbled him to the ground. "You were lucky the first time, stranger!"

  Gar rolled to his feet-right under Skorag, as the giant bent into his wrestler's crouch. Gar turned his back, seized Skorag's forearm, and pulled the giant down on top of himexcept that somehow he stayed on his feet, and Skorag went tumbling.

  "Lucky twice," Gar noted.

  Skorag grunted with surprise and climbed back up. "There must be some skill in you, I'll grant you that!"

  "Your turn," Gar said.

  Skorag slapped at him, yanked his arm away from an attempted grab, caught a knee with the other arm and tossed Gar into the air. 'Alea cried out again, pressing tight against Orla's side, but Gar seemed to bounce to his feet, grinning. "Neatly done! Have you thought of trying this?" He swung both hands down on the other's shoulders, pushing hard, leaping into the air-but Skorag swept a hand up to push Gar's heels high, laughing. Gar landed on his back, but somehow he still had hold of Skorag's hand, and the giant's laugh turned into a grunt of surprise as he went flying over Gar, balanced on the smaller man's heels, to somersault ten feet past Gar's head.