Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)

He was a big one, the largest Dion had ever seen. His bony head was devoid of hair and in profile his reddened teeth were visible even from this distance. Crouched on legs the size of tree trunks, he held a horse’s head in the air as he tore at the neck with savage bites. The bodies of two men lay near a second dead horse. The giant didn’t look like he would be moving on for a long time.

Dion cursed. They were so close. As soon as they were on the road they could leave caution behind and make a dash for civilization.

‘I can fight,’ Chloe said.

‘A giant?’

‘Time is against us.’

Dion hesitated. ‘I’ll fight. You wait.’

‘I’m not waiting.’

‘Stay here,’ Dion ordered.

He rose to his feet and slowly approached, an arrow fitted to the string as he walked cautiously toward the feeding wildran. Circling around, he came at the giant from the side, so that if the creature charged, he would be drawing him away from both Chloe and the road. When he’d reached eighty paces, the limit of his bow’s range, he stopped.

Dion made a swift prayer to the gods. His heart hammered as he drew the string to his cheek. He sighted along the shaft, taking note of the wind and angling the bow into the sky. It was the most difficult shot he’d ever tried. He pictured the arrow plunging into the giant’s neck.

His muscles strained with effort as he held the shot for a moment, and then he released.

The arrow flew through the air, sailing in an arc, but plunged into the ground by the giant’s foot. The creature continued eating, turning the horse head in his hands and gnawing at the bloody flesh at its base, taking no notice.

Dion drew in a shaky breath and looked for Chloe as he fitted another arrow to the string. His eyes widened as he saw her circling on the giant’s other side. She was already closer to the site of the kill than he was. She had no weapon.

He swiftly drew on his bow again and this time hardly thought about the shot as he released. He immediately nocked another arrow and sent it straight after the first; for a heartbeat both shafts were in the air at the same time.

The first arrowhead sliced into the flesh of the giant’s shoulder, then fell away. The giant roared and wheeled, trying to find the threat as it threw the horse head to the ground.

The second shaft would have missed if the giant hadn’t moved. It struck the creature squarely in the center of its chest, sinking deep in the area of its sternum.

The monster rose to its full height and bellowed. Faster than Dion would have thought such an immense thing could move, the giant saw him and charged.

Dion forced himself to stand firm as he loosed yet another arrow, aiming for the giant’s eye. But the shaft went wild, flying past its shoulder. The distance between them narrowed to twenty paces.

With shaking hands he fitted an arrow to the bowstring, knowing it would be his last opportunity. He pulled and released. A heartbeat later the shaft sprouted from the giant’s shoulder.

But it wasn’t a kill shot.

Dion threw his bow to the ground and ran. He weaved from side to side and felt a meaty hand grasp at his tunic before he slipped free. The giant swiped and a second fist scraped the back of his head, shattering his thoughts and making his senses reel.

He tripped over a defile he hadn’t seen and his vision sparkled with stars as his forehead cracked into hard stone. Dion retained enough of his wits to roll to the side as fists the size of his head pummeled the dust where he’d been a moment before. He continued to roll and then felt the ground drop away beneath him. Suddenly he was on his back, wedged in the cleft.

The giant loomed over him, crouching and reaching into the defile. A hand went around Dion’s throat, fingers clutched his neck, and with his arms pinned there was nothing he could do. He felt himself lifted forcefully out of his wedged position and then the hand holding his throat began to squeeze.

Dion’s vision narrowed. His chest heaved as his lungs desperately tried to suck in air. He felt his consciousness ebb away. Darkness encroached.

The giant’s eyes suddenly widened. It opened its mouth to roar but instead blood gushed out. The hand around Dion’s neck released and Dion tumbled to the side, coughing and gasping. The giant toppled forward, falling face first into the cleft that Dion had just vacated.

Looking up, Dion saw Chloe standing behind the giant, a blood-drenched sword held in both hands. He wondered where she’d found it, but then remembered her circling toward the bodies of the two men.

He tried to thank her, but could barely speak. Chloe simply smiled, lowering the sword. ‘It was a good plan,’ she said.




Dion recovered his voice and they now traveled the road with speed, heading west for Phalesia, with mountains on their right and the sea a distant blue expanse on the left.

An hour into the journey they came across a horse.

It was alive but the dead rider lay diagonally across its back, tangled in the reins. The sturdy mare watched with sorrowful brown eyes, skittish as they approached.

‘He must have been part of the same group,’ Chloe said, looking at the dead man. His head was twisted to the side and half the skin was torn from his face.