After an unbidden respite where his body ignored his mind and fell asleep, Garinor awoke feeling somewhat refreshed and ready to continue his journey. His eyes opened to a pale blue sky and brisk breeze. Trees rustled in the distance and birds sang their trilling songs. If his life had not been so chaotic, he would have lolled around there all day.
Rising up from the grass, Garinor surveyed the area. The shattered wagon still lay against the stone wall, perched dangerously near the edge of the steep drop into the river. Now that there was light to see by, Garinor drew a clearer picture of the tumbling wagon’s descent and he shuddered that he had managed to walk away from it with only minor bruises and a roiling headache.
The crate of jellies and jams attracted insects and Garinor wondered how long it would take other creatures to sniff the treasures on the air and come bounding forth. Reaching into the mess, he retrieved a small jar of blackberry spread for his breakfast while his eyes scanned the other crates nearby.
For the most part, the other objects were not interesting to him. There was a crate of silks that must have been picked up along one of the stops. A small box of a finely wrapped silver tea set lay splattered and mangled. Of course, there were also numerous candles lying about from his escape.
What caught his eye the most was a small brown pouch, no larger than his fist. It was tied tightly and it jingled when he shook it. The leather knot was hard to undo but he managed it and grinned. Inside was a handful of coins. They were mostly copper coins, but a few silver ones peered up occasionally. His next visit to town would not be at the mercy of an innkeeper. He could pay for food and lodging outright now.
He tied the pouch to a loop on his pants, and when nothing else of interest caught his eye, he walked onward.
He didn’t know why no one had pursued him down the hill. The wagon tracks were absurdly obvious. But he didn’t question his luck for long. There was no way he was going to follow those tracks back to the armed guard that would likely slay him when he arrived. His only regret was he couldn’t find out where Merlumo had gone. Still, he had a task he needed to complete, and so, setting his thoughts aside, Garinor opted to follow the stone wall.
The structure was immense. The wall stood over twice Garinor’s height and was a bright gray. The enormous stones must have required six horses to pull into place. What Garinor couldn’t fathom was how the stones higher up had been put there. His mind drifted and he thought of powerful giants aiding the lords of the land, painstakingly setting the wall into place stone by stone. The thought made him chuckle, for of course there were no such things as giants.
The masonry was beautiful. Each enormous boulder had been carefully sculpted into shape and set perfectly upon the stones beneath it. A thick mortar had been deftly set to secure it, and not a shred of excess mortar could be seen. It must have taken many years to construct the wall with such precision.
He walked for over two hours before there was any sort of change in the barrier. It extended outright for what seemed like forever, but then suddenly it stopped. At least, it stopped heading east.
The wall banked sharply to the north and again extended beyond Garinor’s view. The sheer size of the wall was staggering. Garinor snacked on more of the jam and then set off again, following the line of stone to the north.
The landscape around him was of lush green fields with bountiful wildflowers sprouting up. There were no tall forests nearby. No small huts or villages. There was just this gray wall on one side and open field on the other. As he headed north, he could see the distant mountains, though they seemed closer now than he had seen them before. They reached right up into the sky and punctured the drifting clouds. If there really were giants, they would surely live up there in something so huge.
Halfway across the eastern wall, along which he was traveling north, he noticed there was a place in the stone that seemed different than the others. A thin line was scored vertically twice. He wondered if it was some sort of doorway, but it was too enormous to be a door, and he couldn’t imagine how all that heavy stone could be moved aside.
He kept his eyes open for other such changes in the wall and he saw the pattern repeated only a couple of times. He paused at one set of them and pressed against the stones, but nothing happened. He hadn’t expected anything to anyway.
It took Garinor half the day to traverse the wall. He followed it north and then west, across a bridge that spanned a river, which flowed under the wall. It was only when the wall turned south that he finally realized where he was.
When he faced the south he saw a long paved road extending out from the wall, and where it reached the stone structure there was an elaborate gatehouse fashioned out of the same large rocks as the rest of the wall. Men in sparkling iron suits of armor stood proudly, spears in hand, ready to challenge any visitor.
Garinor had reached the castle.
Knees shaking, but necessity driving him, Garinor pushed himself forward and followed the wall for almost an hour before he reached the main road and the gatehouse. He gazed up at the nearest guard and trembled fearfully.
“Good tidings,” greeted the guard. “Have you business with the castle this day?”
“I—I do,” he stammered. “I was s—summoned by the king.”
The guard stared down at him and Garinor thought for sure he would be laughed at, for he looked a mess in his tangled, dirty clothes. He was fully surprised when the guard bowed his head. “Welcome, then. You will wait within the inner chamber and from there you will be cleansed of your journey and thence brought before the king.” His hand reached out and swept toward a door behind him.
Speechless, Garinor went through the entrance.