The Center of the World - 1. Catching Up

Chapter One: Catching Up

Giants leave a broad, messy trail. They make no effort to erase their tracks, and their horses would make that impossible anyway. Of course giants don’t ride horses, but they find them indispensable as pack animals. Pireno probably could have followed the trail at night by smell alone, but chose adequate sleep instead.

Even on foot, the giants moved fast. Pireno judged by the freshness of the horse manure that he was gaining on them, but only slowly. Maybe one more day now, maybe two. Each night as he settled in under a tree, he took out the string he used to mark the days and tied a new knot in it: a simple overhand for a clear day, a figure-eight for rain.

He didn’t want to waste time hunting or fishing. Now, in autumn, he could live off the nuts and roots and greens that he found along the way. His supply of bread and dried meat was dwindling. He could make a fire, but with no pots, his cooking choices were limited to raw and roasted.

He was more concerned with what would happen when he found the giants. Had Saghir managed to rejoin them? Would he want to have anything to do with Pireno? Would the giants tolerate the presence of someone who didn’t just fight against them, honorably, in battle, but deceived them?

Was Saghir even still alive?

The memory of that terrible last day when Saghir discovered his treachery was very fresh. It was inseparable from the reek of Finlar’s burning corpse, the sight of Saghir’s wound, and the shame of realizing how he had misjudged Saghir. But it brought up other memories, too, including things he had stopped short of telling Heskelion.

Now he recalled an evening in late summer. Normally Saghir didn’t like to talk while they bathed. That evening, though, with the half-squint and half-smile that Pireno had come to recognize as a sign that he was teasing, Saghir commented on how long Yalitikar had spent giving precise instructions for a gold ring he wanted.

“Yalitikar want ring, but why say word this much long time? I think he like you. I think he like body by you. I think he want fuck you.”

Pireno applied more force to Saghir’s back. “I think you’re making this up, Master.”

“Not make up, he see, he like. And you see Yalitikar, I think you like.”

Pireno thought, why not go with it? “Well, he is pretty good-looking.”

“Ya, and he more big as I.”

“Now, what would I do with someone bigger than you?”

“Ya, I think you use Saghir for start. Now Saghir too little on you. You see more big giant, you think, maybe he more good fuck as Saghir.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not nearly as handsome as you. Although he is striking in his way. And while he was talking to me, he kept pressing his arm against my shoulder. That big, warm, strong, hairy arm.”

Now Saghir’s smile broadened and his eyes twinkled.

“Bilinu, if you want big giant, I say maybe Ulukhar. Big, big. Not slow, not easy. He fast, hard, but -- fuck good. Much good. He give big fear, but I think some time you like big fear.”

He knew how Pireno felt about Ulukhar. So Pireno reponded appropriately, by dumping a bucket of cold water on his head and running like hell. Saghir jumped up, chased him through the courtyard, caught him, and slapped his butt.

Pireno let out a loud “Ow!”

Saghir immediately put his hands to his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! I not want hurt you.” He knelt and gathered Pireno into his arms.

Pireno rolled his eyes. “Master, it didn’t hurt, it just surprised me. I’m not a doll. I’m not a delicate piece of Imperial glass. A little slap on the ass is not going to break me.”

“Not hurt?”

“No, not really. Actually a good slap on the ass can be -- stimulating.”

“Stim-?”

“Yes, stimulating, like running, or a hard scrubbing in the bath. It gets the blood going. Makes the skin sing.”

Saghir lifted Pireno and put his ear to Pireno’s butt. “I not hear skin sing. I see it red.”

“Yes, that’s the blood rushing around. It feels good. In moderation.”

Putting Pireno down on his knee, Saghir traced the edge of the red area with his finger. “Not hurt?”

“No.”

He considered the red mark. “Red.” He tilted his head. “I like red.” And he gave the other side a good sound whack.

“Ow! I wasn’t quite ready for that.”

“Ah! Sorry. Now ready?” Another whack. “Good?”

Slow on the grammar lessons, but quick to pick this up. “Yes, good.”

“You say if too much?”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

Saghir rubbed the area with his palm and considered the effect again. “It bring I want fuck.” Whack.

“It does the same for me.”

Saghir raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Ya?”

“Ya.”

Whack.

************

Pireno woke before sunrise, when the sky was just starting to turn pale. He ate a bit of dry bread and tied his pack closed. He felt impatient now. He still didn’t know what he would say when he arrived, but he wanted to get it over with.

He walked briskly and even ran a bit to warm up. He kept up the quickest pace he could. At midday he stopped at a river to drink, fill his waterskin, eat, and throw some water over his head. He could have used a full dunk in the river, but he didn’t want to take the time.

Although he was only a few miles north of his village, it was noticeably colder here. The farther north giants were, the better they liked it. Their name for themselves, tughan, could be taken as “those of the North.” Tugh really meant “center,” so you could also interpret it as “those of the center of the world,” which came to the same thing for them. When they drew a map of the world as they saw it, it had the North Pole dead center, with lines of latitude as concentric circles around it. Their word for humans, balan, could be taken as “those of the periphery” or “those of the South.”

The road was climbing. There were fewer birch and aspen and more evergreens here. The horse dung on the road was fresh. Pireno was sure he was close.

When night fell, he kept going, and after an hour he was rewarded by the sight of campfires. He took out his string, tied a stop knot in his row, and walked to the two giants standing guard at the perimeter.

They were Ulukhar and Yalitikar. Ulukhar commanded simply, “Stop.”

Pireno looked down and did not move. He thought it best to address the giant as formally as he knew how, saying “Naufar daigitsa Ulukhar.” Normally daigitsa (“to the high one”) would be enough, like “Mister” or “Sir.” Adding naufar (“from low”) turned it into something more like “Lord Ulukhar.”

Ulukhar curled his lip. He said to Yalitikar, “Vaizuliaghi balamnuk-am bifuli-ush Saghilitsa liaghif” (“Tell Saghir his lying human is here”).

Pireno almost ran forward in his relief. “Saghilam shafikan?” (“Saghir is alive?”)

Ulukhar stared at him coldly for a moment. “Shafi. Tughan-ush shaskagi-am diami-zu.” (“He’s alive. It’s not easy to kill a giant.”) “You use word by giant, not make you more good. Word by you not straight.”

“I beg permission to see Saghir.”

“If Saghir choose, he can see. He not need I say he can. Not bag.” He took my pack and tossed it into the tent behind him. “Yalitikar!” With a toss of his head, he indicated that the other giant should conduct Pireno.

Pireno noticed that Yalitikar was wearing the ring he had made for him. “I’m surprised you’re still wearing something I made.”

Yalitikar looked down at him. “You balan. You little. Not can fight giant. Fool-on hafta. War.” He shrugged. “Now not war. Not hafta anger.”

“How is Saghir’s wound? Is he still badly hurt?”

Yalitikar looked away. “What hurt?” Did he mean ‘Which hurt’? After a few more steps, he said, “Saghir drink much wine.”

“For the pain?”

“Ya, for hurt. Here. Here Saghir.” Yalitikar cleared his throat outside a tent, called “Saghir,” and opened the flap. “Balandak-am bifuli.” (“Your human is here.”)

There was a pause before the faint sound of Saghir’s voice: “Bitsif.” (“Come.”)

Pireno could almost stand to enter. The smell hit him first: stale sweat, stale wine, a little shit and piss, and something sickly, probably the infected wound. Saghir, who was always so clean, had not bathed in days. As Pireno’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Saghir lying on rags, a bloody bandage around his foot.

“Master.”

Saghir turned a bleary eye to Pireno. “Bilinu,” he said. “You dirty.”