Braddle sat of the floor with his back resting against the council chamber wall. Grenta, asleep with her head on a cushion resting on his lap, snored quietly. He closed his eyes and let the cool night air from the now opened windows wash over him. Drostfur had ordered the windows to be opened when the smell of two hundred sweltering bodies locked inside the air-tight chamber made breathing difficult. A woman actually vomited in to a punch bowl because of it and provoked a barrage of desperate complaints from her neighbours. One of the men who had opened the windows reported to Drostfur that the crowd was still outside but it had now been joined by the Spronger-Division. Drostfur had looked at Ipitch. Ipitch simply said ‘to be expected’ and walked away. Alfie, please Alfie, you have to keep your promise. All is lost…
“This is an outrage” a voice shouted.
Braddle opened his eyes. A man was standing in the midst of the prisoners, who were slumped on the floor and on chairs in the centre of the chamber, directing himself to Drostfur sitting nearby.
“How dare you treat me like this. You know who I am. I refuse to sleep on the floor any longer.”
Some of the guests raised their heads to look at him but then put them back down again.
“Drostfur! You traitor! I am talking to you. How dare you ignore me. When this is over I will personally ensure that your punishment is exceptional.”
The threat was too much for Ipitch who charged over to him nimbly avoiding any outstretched arm or leg that was in his path.
“Naster Stoo” he shouted back, “if you do not sit down and be quiet I will personally put you down. You are no longer in a position to make threats. Take your lead from your son over there, the disgraced General, and resign yourself to the fact that your plot has failed.”
The men stood eye to eye but Ipitch was a rock that could not be moved. Naster Stoo sat down.
“We’ll see” he muttered.
Braddle looked over at his uncle guarding the main entrance with Belay and Tableface. Both Belay and Tableface were laughing. Uncle Malik was not.
The landscape was flat and featureless and stretched to a horizon as sharp as a razor blade. Where was everybody? Where? Where? He spun around but in every direction it was the same. He was alone, utterly alone. Tears drilled down his cheeks and loneliness ached inside him.
Another hand, a million times the size of his hand, landed hard on its knuckles in the far distance then flipped itself over on to its finger tips. He wiped his stinging eyes with the back of his hands and tried to focus on it. The hand scampered on the spot like an excited puppy. It seemed to be searching for something. When its finger tips faced him it stopped. Slowly, silently, the index finger stretched upwards and pointed…pointed at him. With a ferocious force, the hand jumped forward and bounded towards him. The ground cracked as the nail on each finger sliced in to it. He did not feel afraid. No. He waved as the hand came closer. “Here! Here!” he shouted. It was nearly upon him now. Its enormity blocked out the sun. He placed his hands over his eyes. The loneliness had gone.
“Braddle. Braddle. Wake up.”
The voice was familiar. He was not alone. He opened his eyes.
“Braddle. It’s morning. Wake up” said Grenta.
He jumped up quickly.
“Are they here yet” he asked.
“No. Not yet.”
“They should have been here by now” said Braddle looking around.
The prisoners were awake and either sitting up or standing. They were talking in groups. Water was being passed around. Some of them were even laughing. Uncle Malik was talking to Drostfur and Ipitch by the main door.
“Come on” said Braddle.
They went over to the group. They looked worried and Braddle heard his uncle say that all they could do was wait. Ipitch turned to him.
“Looks like we were fools to rely on your child-giant” he said before walking off.
“I am not ready to give up hope yet” said Drostfur. “All children are capable of greatness, including your giant, Alfie. You two are proof of that. I suggest we take advantage of the time left and have a hearty breakfast.”
Drostfur went off towards a table in the corner next to the platform. Braddle looked at his uncle.
“Drostfur is right. It’s too early to admit defeat but they do need to come soon. If they don’t then we will have to find a way to extricate ourselves from here. We cannot stay nor can we fight the army out there.”
“They will come” said Grenta. “I met Alfie once and I think he can do anything. He won’t let us down.”
Uncle Malik went over to Belay.
“Let’s go and see General Stoo” said Braddle.
“Why?” asked Grenta.
“I want to know his reasons” replied Braddle.
General Stoo sat in the corner still flanked by two guards. He looked tired and dark stubble dotted his cheeks and neck. As Braddle and Grenta approached, he watched them steadily. The despair he manifested the night before had eased and his arrogant look was returning.
“Ah, we meet again boy. Are you pleased with yourself for all…this” he said, gesturing towards the room with his hand. “For the trouble you have caused both me and my friends.”
“I am not the cause of this” said Braddle. “You are. You are to blame.”
General Stoo laughed.
“Blame? What I did was for the good of Carporoo.”
“How can giving Braddle’s parents and all of the others to a giant be for the good of Carporoo?” asked Grenta.
General Stoo refused to look at her.
“They were all corrupt. They had to go” he said.
“So you did take my father?” asked Braddle.
“Your father was the first and, I assure you, he won’t be the last.”
“Why? What did he ever do to you?”
“Your father was a rising star. He was in my way. That is all.”
“And my mother?”
“You are to blame for that, I think” said General Stoo. “You had made contact with the giants. I sent you all an invitation but, unfortunately, only your mother came.”
General Stoo wiped the front of his armour with a table cloth.
“I was sorry to see her go. You know, you could have been my son but for the fact that your mother chose your father over me. Did she tell you that? No. I don’t think so.”
“Obviously Braddle’s mother has good taste” said Grenta.
“Shut up girl” spat out General Stoo, irritated.
Both guards laughed.
“I like her” said one.
“Yes. She’s good” the other replied.
General Stoo ignored them both.
“I understand” he said “that you have put your trust in a child giant. Someone called Alfie, I believe. I am afraid that your trust has been misplaced. I have observed the giants who occupy our land and if it is the one I think it is then you have put your faith in a timid fool who is incapable of wiping his own nose.”
General Stoo laughed again.
“You’re wrong” said Braddle. “You’re wrong.”
“No. No.” said General Stoo, continuing to laugh. “I am never wrong.”
Just then a loud cry came in through the windows from the crowd outside. Braddle and Grenta looked at each other and then at General Stoo. General Stoo stopped laughing.