Oak, Geezer, and Ur-Namma waited in the shadows under the bridge, with an oblivious giant sitting on top of them. Oak pressed himself against the support column he was hiding behind and prayed silently. If the giant got wind of their presence, this little adventure would come to an end very quickly. And very violently.

  The giants had a reputation, and they had spent millennia earning every bit of it.

  The river of time flowed onwards, and the giant sat there on top of the bridge, like he had nowhere else to be. He was utterly still, like a statue carved out of rock. Oak found it disconcerting for something so large to have such fine control over their own movements. It felt unnatural, like a boat without a crew sailing upstream.

  When the giant finally made an infinitesimal movement and let out a noise of displeasure, Oak almost pissed himself. I feel very fortunate that I am not the person drawing a giant’s ire. By the look of those legs the giant might not even notice if he accidentally stepped on top of Oak, and reduced him to a smear on the ground.

  Movement close to the monument at the center of the square caught his eye. A pair of elves had just walked into view, with a third elf between them, and they began to make their way across the square. The elf in the middle was shuffling, like his ankles were shackled together.

  Oak glanced at Ur-Namma. The elf’s face was cold and lifeless, like a porcelain mask.

  “Dumuzi and Gestianna,” Ur-Namma mouthed silently. Two of his jailors were flanking the prisoner.

  As the trio got closer, Oak got a better look at all of them. The male elf in the middle did indeed have shackles on his ankles. The metal restraints were connected to each other with a short chain, and his wrists were also shackled together. There was a haggard look to him. The dark green doublet and the black trousers he was wearing had seen better days, and his long dark hair was in disarray.

  A sense of resigned terror was written all over the prisoner's handsome face. Every step towards the giant seemed to inflame the dread in his eyes, but he kept his head up and his posture straight anyway, clearly unwilling to fully give in to his fear.

  The two elves flanking the prisoner had silver hair and bright blue eyes. The brother and sister looked alike, and both wore similar outfits; gray cloaks over mail armor. Gestianna had a two-handed battle-axe on her back, while Dumuzi wielded a staff. To Oak’s eyes, it looked like some type of casting focus.

  He is probably a spellsinger of some sort.

  A streak of smoke traveled over the buildings circling the square and landed on the cobblestones in front of the giant. The smoke transformed into a fearsome elf clad in black plate. There was a shield fixed on his back, and he was wearing a helm with wings on its sides. Golden locks of hair spilled down from the back of it.

  This one looked like a warrior king of old, and he seemed to favor a long, thin longsword like the one Oak had given to Ur-Namma.

  If that is not the third jailor, I will eat my boots.

  The elf in full-plate waited until the pair escorting the prisoner stopped behind him and bowed low. “Lord Kurigalzu, we have finished the task given to us and captured the deserter.”

  An oppressive silence descended on the square. No one moved a muscle. Oak was not subject to the giant's stare, and he was still sweating under the bridge like a little piglet.

  Finally, the giant spoke. His voice rolled across the square like an avalanche and echoed all around them. Oak was glad he could adjust the sensitivity of his enhanced hearing.

  “SHOULD I APPLAUD YOUR EFFORTS, NAMTAR?” Kurigalzu asked. “REMIND ME. HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO CAPTURE THIS WEAKLING?”

  The elf in the black plate ground his teeth together. “Three weeks, my lord.”

  A rumbling breath from above shook a cloud of dust free from the bottom of the bridge. It floated down and landed in Oak’s hair.

  “DO YOU THINK I AM PLEASED?” Kurigalzu asked. “DO YOU IMAGINE ME OVERJOYED WITH THE QUALITY OF YOUR SERVICE?”

  “Enmesarra proved more cunning and resourceful than he appears at first glance, my lord.” Namtar stammered. “His desertion took us all by surprise, which gave him a head start.”

  “MAYBE. MAYBE NOT,” Kurigazu said. “WEAKLING. WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY?”

  Enmesarra visibly gathered his courage and looked right where Oak imagined Kurgalzu’s eyes were. “I answer to you no longer.” He spat on the ground.

  Kurigalzu laughed. It was a cruel sound filled with wicked glee. “IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? YOU ARE SORELY MISTAKEN.”

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  A gigantic hand connected to an even more gigantic forearm descended from above and snatched Enmesarra into the air. Only the elf’s head remained visible, sticking out of the giant's fist. Enmesarra gulped for air, utterly consumed by panic.

  Kurigalzu clenched his fist. Blood fountained out of Enmesarra’s open, screaming mouth as fingers the width of trees broke his body. Horrific gurgles filled the square as the giant squeezed the elf into paste, and dropped his broken form onto the cobblestones.

  To his horror, Oak could see the elf’s eyes twitch. The wretch was still alive. Kurigalzu snapped his bloody fingers, and suddenly Enmesarra stood there, whole and hearty, once more. The elf was white as a sheet, and promptly threw up, before collapsing right into his own vomit.

  Oak could not believe what he was seeing. Kurigalzu is going to be a problem. One more added to the pile. Casting a spell of such power without even an incantation was a feat worthy of legend.

  “DO YOU PERHAPS LACK SUFFICIENT MOTIVATION, NAMTAR?” Kurigalzu asked, switching targets.

  Namtar was quick to deny the accusation. “No, lord Kurigalzu. Enmesarra can be crafty when he wants to be,” he said. “We did all we could, I swear.” He held the pommel of his sword in a white knuckled grip.

  The prisoner tried to say something, and Kurigalzu lifted his right foot. Slowly, he stepped on Enmesarra’s legs. The prisoner’s screams filled the square once more. Oak felt cold all over. It was the utterly indifferent nature of Kurigalzu’s violence that shook him. The giant was not angry. There was no wrath in his voice as he tortured Enmesarra. He was like a curious child pulling an insect apart and watching it writhe and struggle.

  Kurigalzu lifted his leg and made Enmesarra whole again. It seemed like he was not done questioning the deserter.

  “I WILL ASK ONE MORE TIME, WEAKLING,” Kurigalzu said. “WHY DID YOU FLEE?”

  Enmesarra scrambled to his knees. Tears and snot dripped down his handsome face, and the elf let out a noise, which could have been either a sob or a laugh. “Every coward has their breaking point. I guess I reached mine,” he said. “Yam-Nahar will wake in a year or two and continue his profane feast. I want no part of it.

  “No matter what lies ahead, I will not raise my blade again in the dragon’s name.” Despite his circumstances, there was an intense joy on Enmesarra’s face as the words left his mouth, like he could not quite believe he had uttered them. “This is not the dream he promised us.”

  The twins had disgusted looks on their faces, though Oak could not tell exactly what they were disgusted by. Enmesarra’s desertion? The reason behind it? Or something else entirely? Sadly, it wasn’t likely he would find out the answer anytime soon, since he could not exactly walk into the square and ask the elves themselves about it.

  Namtar just looked resigned. Like he knew something was coming, and he would not enjoy it.

  “HOW PATHETIC. TO LOSE FAITH NOW, AT THE FINAL STRETCHES OF THE GREAT WORK, IS A SIN I CANNOT ABIDE,” Kurigalzu said. “YAM-NAHAR WAS WISE TO SEEK MY COUNSEL. HE KNEW SOME OF YOU WOULD WAVER DESPITE YOUR OATHS.”

  Enmesarra wiped his tears to his sleeve and chuckled. “What does it matter?” he asked. “I am an oath-breaker twice over.”

  “INDEED, WEAKLING. INDEED,” Kurigalzu replied. “GESTIANNA, UNSHACKLE THE DISAPPOINTMENT.”

  Quickly, Gestianna produced a key and removed the restraints. Just as quickly, she stepped back and took her place next to Dumuzi. Enmesarra rose to a standing position. His own sick covered the chest of his doublet. The elf looked both ridiculous and majestic at the same time.

  “What will become of me?” Enmesarra asked.

  “AN APPETIZER,” Kurigalzu said, and grabbed Enmesarra once more.

  The elf’s eyes widened in terror as Kurigalzu lifted him up. Shouting in fright, the elf vanished from view. Oak closed his eyes and hugged Geezer. It did not take a genius to figure out what was going to happen next.

  Horrific crunching sounds emanated from the bridge as Kurigalzu ate Enmesarra alive. Judging by the fact that the shrieking did not immediately stop, Kurigalzu had started with the feet.

  While the giant chewed, Enmesarra screamed himself hoarse.

  Oak had never heard such a sound, and he wished to never hear it again. It reminded him a little of a time in his youth, when he had helped a neighbor butcher a hog. The master of the house had messed up the cut, and only injured the pig instead of cutting its throat.

  The way the animal had squealed had stayed in Oak’s dreams for years.

  After an eternity, the screams ended, and Oak opened his eyes. He dared a glance around the column he and Geezer were hiding behind. The jailor’s gazes were transfixed up towards the giant's face. Towards Kurigalzu’s mouth, if Oak could hazard a guess.

  All three of Ur-Namma’s jailors looked pale, and Namtar was the palest of them all. His expression was locked in a grimace, and the hand which had been holding the pommel of his sword like a vice was now shaking slightly.

  The sound of Kurigalzu smacking his lips almost made Oak stumble in fright. By the Chariot, he cursed inside his own mind. He was grateful for the darkness and the piles of trash under the bridge that shielded most of him from view. Discovery would have been fatal.

  Oak had no desire to become an appetizer like Enmesarra.

  “I HAVE EATEN WORSE TASTING ELVES. TAKE HEART NAMTAR. IF YOU FAIL ME AGAIN, THERE ARE OTHER USES YOU COULD BE WELL SUITED FOR,” Kurigalzu said. “SEEK ME OUT IN TWO DAYS. I HAVE WORK FOR YOU IN THE SOUTH.”

  Namtar, Gestianna, and Dumuzi bowed to the giant. Considering Kurigalzu had just eaten an elf alive, Oak figured not bowing might have proved deadly. He much preferred Ashmedai’s style of leadership to whatever this was supposed to be.

  Without another word, Kurigalzu stood up on the bridge, and walked back the way he came, towards the center of the city. His thundering steps heralded his going as they slowly but surely faded to the edge of hearing, and the elves left as well.

  Ur-Namma’s jailors walked away together, in the grips of a muted conversation. It was apparent there was trouble in paradise.

  Oak, Geezer and Ur-Namma waited under the bridge long after their enemies had vacated the square. Oak kept glancing at Ur-Namma. He could not wait to hear what the elf had to say about what they had just witnessed.

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