“I and a friend were staying together. The bandits have taken her. Now I suppose that I have the place to myself.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, contemplating her blank tone. I attribute it to shock.
She nods silently. “If I could, I would try to find her. But we know nothing of them. They could be anywhere.”
“It’s a sad thing,” Nathaniel says. I’m hit by his words, and struggle to think where I have heard them before. It takes me a minute to remember. It was the old man in the square, talking about the world at war. It’s a sad thing.
She gets up. “I’d best be getting to bed,” she says. “Good night.”
We echo her farewell.
I get up from the table, leaving Nathaniel there. I walk down the hall towards the room where my mother is reading a bedtime story to Nicholas. My timing is perfect; she has just started. I recognize it immediately as one of my favorites, from a book she read to Gunther and me when we were small children. Despite my age and lack of need for a bedtime story, I find myself standing just outside the door and listening.
Grothingar the Mighty
“Once, long ago, when the land was ruled by dragons and giants, elves and dwarves, there was a king. This king was no man, or even an elf or an orc. He was stronger than any being, wielding a sword larger than any sword that had ever been forged. His blade was sharp, his armor shining, and his courage above all. He was the Lord of the Frost Giants, towering above all men and above his own kin. None could match him on the battlefield; he was a berserker, undefeatable, invincible. His Frost Giant blood granted him the ability to freeze objects solid with a single touch, and even from a distance with the mist he shot from his hands. He wore no helmet, as he was a Frost Giant, and like all Frost Giants had horns like a ram, great and curling, sticking from his head. His name was Grothingar the Mighty.
“The Frost Giants spent their time with each other. They built halls and castles to protect themselves and others. They were a productive and hardworking people, always striving to build and to protect.
“There was another warrior of another race. This race was in direct opposition to the Frost Giants, and so was one of fire, destruction, and mayhem. These were the Fire Giants. Though they did build forts and castles of their own, they constantly looked for their own gain and welfare above all others. Often they would destroy the villages of men and elves simply because they wanted the land. A great greed grew inside every one of them until they each wanted only to control all.
“The warrior of this race was a titan among the Giants. He could throw fire like a catapult, or simply burst his body into flame during battle. His armor was dark, his beard long and crimson. His sword was as black as his soul, with an edge red as blood. He was Avalkand the Infernal, Lord of the Fire Giants.
“The Frost Giants did not take kindly to the Fire Giants’ works of destruction. As builders and protectors, they rose up against the Fire Giants and soon peace reigned in the land.
“This peace, however, was temporary.
“The prosperity of the world came to an end when Avalkand the Infernal came to power as the Lord of the Fire Giants. He ordered his people to attack and destroy all men and their cities, for the purpose of controlling all of the land. Men fled before them and that might have been the end of the race of man. That is, if Grothingar the Mighty had not stood in his way.
“Grothingar had a love for men. He loved the way they could build, expand, and they way they could love. This love for them made him their protector.
“Thus came the callings of the Fire Giants and the Frost Giants. Fire: to destroy, and Frost: to protect.
“At the same time, the dragons were waging their own war, but it was within their own lands. Verzkor served as the king of the dragons, the Dragon Lord. He ruled with righteousness and good judgment. His son, however, was not the same.
“Verkoth, Verzkor’s son, agreed with the Fire Giants. That all