Giant Thief by David Tallerman

for the next day, but hunger took over and I ate in a stupor, stuffing food into my mouth and hardly tasting it, oblivious to everything. I had only a third of a loaf left by the time reality reasserted itself. Ruefully, I dropped it into one of the pockets inside my cloak. If I wasn't full, at least I no longer felt like my stomach was trying to devour the rest of my organs.
      I stood, stepped out into the square, glanced to the north – and froze. On the high edge of the Hunch, half-visible between trees, a pinprick line of fires burned. They could only be torches. Our pursuers had made up a huge distance. Something about those steady, bobbing flames made cold sweat bead across my whole body.
      "Saltlick," I called, forcing my voice down to a steady pitch, "it's time we were moving on."
      Saltlick, having made considerable inroads into the grass, now sat beside the shelter, the gaggle of children still clambering noisily around and over him. He could have snapped any one of them in half with the wave of a hand, yet they were perfectly unafraid and trusting. I realised how much my perceptions had been coloured by seeing the giants fight that morning. I remembered the one holding a horse and its stricken rider in the air, about to cast them to the ground, and shuddered. They hadn't seemed so placid then.
      Saltlick looked up. When I barked his name again, he stood and lumbered over. I tried to motion northward with my head, but I couldn't tell whether he understood.
      Before I could say anything, the patriarch darted over, with a surprising turn of speed. "So, both satisfied? It's a shame to leave so soon, and in the dark, with mountain lions, bandits, and worse abroad. We could provide lodgings at reasonable rates, and perhaps a barn for your friend."
      "A gracious offer. Sadly we have far to go, and time is precious."
      "Well then. The price is three onyxes, agreed fair and square."
      I wondered how quickly I could get onto Saltlick's shoulder, and if he would leave when I ordered him to. Perhaps he would even take the villagers' side over mine. None of them was in any shape to pose much resistance, but there was something unsavoury in the idea of trampling our way through a barricade of old people and children. I pulled out Moaradrid's purse and opened the drawstring with a resigned sigh.
      Looking inside, a thought occurred to me. "You've been very generous, not to say hospitable. The rice and cheese were an unexpected bonus, and your youngsters have made my companion welcome. In short, I wonder if three onyxes is ample payment."
      The patriarch's eyes flickered between greed and suspicion. "That's true, our kindliness is famous hereabouts. Still, a deal is a deal, and rarely improved by last minute alterations."
      I drew forth the ruby and laid it in his palm.
      "I'd intended this to be a gift for my paramour. The more I think about it, however, the more I realise she's proven herself unfaithful and inattentive on far too many occasions. It's worth a thousand times the agreed sum. Nonetheless, I'd like you to have it."
      I backed towards Saltlick and eyed the netting. I could see the line of torches behind the patriarch, partly hidden by a rise but definitely closer. I had a vague hope that he'd bring the gem to their attention, either by boasting or by trying to sell it, and that finding it might convince them to abandon their pursuit. But if we waited much longer, I'd be giving it to them in person.
      The patriarch gawped at the glittering thing in his hand. The others had gathered around to stare with him. Only the children were unimpressed. He found his voice eventually. "Pretty though it is, this won't buy us grain."
      "It's worth all the grain on the Hunch."
      He continued more certainly, "Trinkets are all well and good for rich folks. For peasants, ready currency is the only useful sort."
      I pointed past him. "If you can't appreciate it for its aesthetic value,