The Giant-Slayer by Iain Lawrence Read Free Book Online Page A

bung in its hole and rolled the keg aside. Then, with a sigh, he made his way up the back stairs and through the parlor.
    There were only three travelers that day at the inn. They sat in a row, close to the tiny fire: a minstrel, a shepherd, and a dealer in the fine carpets that were woven by trolls. The shepherd was poking with his crook at a pile of embers no bigger than an anthill, while the minstrel shivered beside him. Outside, the day was warm and sunny; it was fear that chilled the travelers, for all three were about to set off up the Great North Road.
    “Is there trouble, innkeep?” asked the shepherd as Fingal passed behind them.
    “There’s always trouble,” said Fingal. “That’s what comes with a babby.”
    At the top of the inn, the Woman’s room was in darkness. The shutters were drawn and latched, and the Woman lay in her bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin.
    “What’s the matter, Woman?” asked Fingal.
    She didn’t say a word, but only shifted her eyes toward the window. Jimmy’s crib—standing there—was empty.
    “The babby?” said Fingal hopefully. “Has it wandered off?”
    “No, you fool.” The Woman shifted the blankets so thatFingal could see Jimmy sleeping beneath them. “There’s someone outside.”
    “Who is it?” asked Fingal.
    “How should I know?” She shook her head, as though he was stupid. “Why don’t you look and see?”
    Fingal’s ears turned a bright red. But he tried to keep his temper. “I was in the basement, Woman,” he said slowly. “Did you have to bring me all the way up here so that I could look out your window?”
    “Well, how else could you look out of it?” she asked with a cluck of her tongue.
    Fingal fumed. Sixteen years he’d been married. He’d done the Woman’s bidding night and day. But, suddenly, he’d had enough.
    “Woman, you’re a layabout,” he told her.
    Her mouth fell open. She stared at him, aghast. Flat on her back, covered from chin to toes, she lay there and looked at him. The only sound in the room was her breathing, hard and steady.
    “All day you lie there,” said Fingal. “Well, if you want to know who’s outside, get up and look. Shift yourself, Woman. I’m sick of the sight of you.”

    “Hardy har har. That’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” said Carolyn.
    She lay like Fingal’s wife, staring up from a hard bed as rubber bellows whooshed and wheezed. “You think I’m lazy? ’Cause I asked you what was outside?”
    Laurie felt rotten. She’d forgotten that that was how everything had started, with Carolyn asking what she could see from the window. All she had wanted to do was make Dickie forget where he was for an hour or two, to free him from his iron lung. Instead, she had sealed them all more tightly.
    In the tilted mirrors she could see the three faces. Dickie had his eyes closed, but his skin was pulled into wrinkles by the things he was thinking. Chip had turned his head to the left, and only Carolyn was staring right back. “He’s polio, isn’t he?” said the girl in the iron lung. “Your dumb giant.”
    Dickie’s eyes opened now. Chip rolled his head to look at Caroline.
    “Well, guess what?” said Carolyn. “He can’t be killed. You can never beat polio.”
    “I didn’t mean that,” said Laurie.
    “Just get out of here.” Carolyn looked away from the mirror. Her long braid swished like the tail of an angry cat.
    Laurie imagined how frustrating it would be if you couldn’t wave your arms when you were angry, if you couldn’t run away from anything. Without another word, she left the room. Though Dickie called out to stop her, she didn’t look back. She ran for the elevator.
    She heard the chime as she rounded the last bend in the hall. She saw the doors open and Miss Freeman come out.
    “Laurie,” said the nurse, surprised. But with one look, she somehow understood. “Did Carolyn tell you to leave?”
    Laurie nodded.
    “That happens a lot. It’s not your fault.”
    The