Waithe narrowed his eyes and spat his words. "It would appear, Lieutenant, that the concept of honor be far beyond your simple mind."
The Lieutenant drew his sword as his horse pawed the ground. The soldiers who flanked them raised blades and crossbows, awaiting orders to charge. Waithe held his long knife aloft as he stepped back closer to Ceres and Alden. They were trapped with a dozen soldiers on horseback before them and a wall of black volcanic rock behind them. Ceres hugged a trembling Eira as Alden stepped in front of them, a resolute expression on his face.
The Lieutenant sneered. "The words of a dead man mean nothing. The only honor be that Lord Scias would have his prize." He pointed at Ceres.
Waithe steeled himself for the attack, but then two spherical objects twice the size of a fist rolled across the ground, settling at the hooves of the soldiers' horses, one to each side of him. Flames sputtered and sizzled on the wicks. Waithe lifted an eyebrow in confusion. These devices came from Alden, so something new was bound to happen. The soldiers seemed even more confused as they looked at each other, some shrugging.
Alden shouted, "Waithe, secure your horse!"
As Waithe took up the reins of his horse, a bright flash and a sharp sound of thunder erupted from each of the devices in quick succession. The soldiers' horses bucked and reared, disrupting the orderly line and tossing most of the men to the ground. Clouds of dust kicked up by the stomping horses mixed with the sulfurous smoke from the blasts. Waithe held tight to his horse as Alden did so to his and Ceres' horses.
Ceres lifted her chin and pressed her lips together in a look of determination as she raised her arms. The Spirit Phy's green light brightened and pulsed above her. Patches of vines that matted the ground began to twist and grow, reaching out to the soldiers in the chaos. The rustling of the vines gave way to shouts of fear as they entrapped the men in their twirling growth. Those soldiers still on their feet or horseback hacked at the attacking plants with swords and knives, but the vines were much too relentless to stop. Soon all were pulled to the ground and ensnared in botanical prisons as surely as in dungeon chains. Ceres lowered her hands and took a deep breath.
Waithe grasped tightly the long knife in his hand as he glared at the Lieutenant on the ground below him. "What think you now of honor?"
The officer whimpered as his face paled in wide-eyed fear as Waithe bent over and pressed his knife against his neck. Waithe cast his eyes at Ceres who shook her head. He sighed, pulling the knife back.
"If it were to me, your blood would have spoiled this ground. To the one you called 'witch', you owe your life."
Waithe sheathed his long knife and walked over to the giant he defeated earlier and knelt. The vines trapped Yorg as well, his eyes seemed unfocused as his breathing became rapid and shallow. Ceres also knelt next to her father.
Waithe turned to her. "Ceres, would you..?"
She smiled and nodded, placing a hand on the giant's shoulder and closing her eyes. An amber light, the Spirit Dal, joined Phy's green light above her and circled slowly around. The vines slowly retreated from the injured giant, releasing him from their grip. A sparkling shimmer of Magic came down and encased him. Yorg's eyes grew wide and focused as the healing progressed.
As before, a vision of the past came to Waithe, this one of Ceres as a young teenager.
She sat on a granite boulder under the old apple tree, one tucked in a far corner of the Medice estate, a favorite place to escape the stresses of training and the taunts of the other girls. Her face laid bent over in her hands. Phy slowly circled above her, shining a muted green light.
Her past as an indentured servant had become known and now they taunted her as 'slave girl'. Soon the girls would leave to rejoin their families for summer break, but she had no family, and she would be left here alone. The loneliness would be even worse than the teasing.
"You know, there be better ways to water the tree than with your tears."
Ceres knew that gentle voice, that of Amir, the old grey-haired gardener who took care of the estate landscape and the closest person she had to a caring parent. She would often help him with the gardening.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and sat down next to her. "What troubles you, my dear Ceres?"
"I don't know... Just, everything."
He nodded. "The mocking still stings, does it?"
She looked up with moist eyes. "I just want to fit in, and now soon I will be alone again."
"Not all mock you, my young assistant, you do have good friends, those who care for you. It be a sad reality that some need to tear others down to build themselves up. It be they that ultimately should be pitied."
She bent her head down. "What should I do?"
"Forgive them." Her head snapped up at his reply. He continued. "Not so much for their sake as for yours. Let it release the pain from you. The Creator God calls us to love others, even our enemies. As extraordinary as it may be, sometimes, an enemy may become an ally."
Ceres sat in silence as she considered his advice. Forgiveness was not so easy.
Amir straightened up. "I have something to ask you, my dear young Lady. We have an extra room in our cottage. Would you like to stay with us over the summer? It would be better than that dreary dorm."
"I... I have no money to pay for board."
He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "Maya and I would be happy to have you. With your help, the gardens have never looked better. That be payment enough."
Phy flashed her green light above them. Amir smiled. "Yes Phy, and with your help as well."
The shimmering magic retreated as Ceres opened her eyes. Yorg took a deep breath as his fingers traced his side where the bloody gash had once been and flexed his now functional legs. He looked up into Ceres eyes with a tenderness that seemed to defy his fearsome form.
She smiled at the giant. "There, that should be better. You shall still be weak, but your strength will eventually return."
The giant stood up to his full height and gazed down at his body, seemingly still in awe of his healing. He then dropped to one knee and bowed his head toward the one who healed him.
Ceres put her hand on his shoulder. "Rise, Yorg. Go and be a blessing to this world."
*****
Waithe looked back over his shoulder. "We appear to be safe for now. Let us pull off the road under the shade of those trees and let the horses rest."
The trees not only provided a comfortable shade from the hot sun but also hid their presence from any who may pass on the road. A small spring burbling out from the rocky hillside provided cool water. They dismounted and allowed the horses to drink their fill.
Waithe hoisted Eira onto his shoulders as she rubbed her eyes, having just woken from a short nap brought on by the gentle sway of the horse.
He turned to Alden. "I must ask, what be those devices that gave such an incredible blast? Be they magic?"
Alden smiled as he puffed out his chest. "Ah, no magic, just science. The blast jars, as I call them, contain a mixture of charcoal, sulfur, and salt-peter. The mixture explodes with a great force when so confined in a vessel, the combustion is so fast." His pride deflated as he continued. "The first time I set one off near a corral, my father made me go and retrieve all the horses that ran away." He sighed and mumbled, "It took all day."
"Amazing, Alden." Waithe turned his head up to the girl on his shoulders. "Don't you think so, little Eira?"
Eira nodded, causing her long dark hair to flop into Waithe's face.
Waithe brushed Eira's hair back from his eyes, then turned to Ceres. "And you, daughter, using the vines to bind the soldiers was inspired. Saved me once again, you did."
Ceres took hold of Alden's arm and smiled at him. "It was all Alden's strategy."
Waithe looked up again. "What think you, little girl, has Alden earned a big kiss?" Eira lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. Waithe continued. "I think so, but I shall not give him one. Might you know someone who would?"
Alden's eyes grew wide and a hint of color came to his cheeks. He stammered, "I... Really, there be no..."
The same color came to Ceres' cheeks. She grasped Alden's shoulders and placed a kiss on his lips, one that lasted hardly a heartbeat. She bent her head and leaned her forehead on his chest, the rouge deepening on her face.
Waithe rolled his eyes. "These two really need to work on their kissing. Don't you think so, little Eira? Although, I suspect they do much better when we do not watch."
The little girl just shrugged.
Ceres shot a narrow-eyed look at Waithe. "Father, must you?"
Waithe silenced her with an upturned hand. He turned his gaze toward a section of dense brush near the side of a hill and spoke in a loud voice. "Yorg, since you follow, you may as well join us."
Ceres jumped at the rustling in the brush as the giant emerged with a huff. He trudged through the understory toward the group, thick black eyebrows hid his downturned eyes in an apparent show of deference. A few strands of sparse black hair stood up from his scalp. The too-small black uniform shirt was unbuttoned and his pants came down only to the top of his ankles. Likely, Lord Scias' army did not have a uniform big enough for this giant.
He bowed before Ceres and spoke in a deep gravelly voice. "My Lady, I follow."
Ceres put her hand on his shoulder, having to reach far up despite his bowed posture. "My dear Yorg, you need not follow me. No debt of service do I require. Have you not a family or friends that may wish your return?"
Yorg shook his head. "No family, no friends. No more soldiers. Follow you, Lady."
"Yorg, you must know that our quest is a dangerous one. Even now we journey to the fearsome volcano, Grimmur. We may face Lord Scias' forces again and even the Darkness itself."
He grunted. "I follow."
Ceres turned her eyes to Waithe. He shrugged. "It would seem, my dear Ceres, that you have another protector, a very imposing one at that."
Ceres smiled. "Very well, my dear giant. Welcome you are." She introduced the group with motions of her hands. "This be my dear friend Alden. You met my father Waithe in battle. And the little girl on his shoulders be my daughter, Eira."
Yorg stood upright. Even though Eira sat on top of Waithe's shoulders, he looked her straight in the eyes. His mouth widened to a toothy smile, large even for his massive head. Eira tilted her head and smiled back.