Chapter 37

For where the argument of intellect

Is added unto evil will and power,

No rampart can the people make against it.

Dante, Inferno, 31.55-57

“There, up ahead,” Radovan said, as he pointed to the cliff face rising above them to the right. “That must be it.”

Adam looked up. “Yes, that’s it,” he agreed. “We’re very close now.”

Dante followed their gaze and saw a thin line going straight up the embankment. As they got closer, he could see there were metal posts driven into the stone, and between these ran some kind of rope or chain. Thankfully, although it was steeper, this ascent did not look as tall as the one they had climbed earlier that day, rising perhaps fifty or sixty feet above them. As with everything in the valley, it seemed more than enough to kill them, however.

Dante felt Bogdana pressing on his shoulder. “That?” she said. “There’s no way I’ll make it.”

He put his hand on hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “You’ve got to make it.” Dante thought if she lost hope he’d have no chance of continuing, so he had to keep her spirits up.

From up ahead they heard a loud roar, and Dante saw a gigantic figure standing at the bottom of the path up the cliff. It did not seem to be approaching them, but remained where it was. As they got closer, Dante could see it was a huge dead man. Like the other dead man Bert, this one had a leather collar around his neck. The collar had two chains attached to it, and these were fastened to two large stones near the cliff face. Although he was hunched over now, he was obviously an enormous creature. Dante had heard the Frisians were giants such as this, and he wondered if this unfortunate man had come from such a faraway place only to die in some gruesome, violent way, and then go on to toil in endless, restless futility. Incredibly, this dead man also held a huge wooden club in his right hand, beating the ground with it as he eyed the intruders. Dante had grown used to such ferocity in the dead, but he had never seen them capable of wielding tools or weapons before. It thoroughly chilled him. Not only for the increased danger, but also because it meant the man might retain some of his intellect, and therefore some of his humanity, all of it trapped in this enormous husk of hunger and madness. Dante imagined this was how Goliath looked, and he knew he was no David, either as to faith or skill at arms.

They got closer to the giant and surveyed the situation. The creature snarled and reached for them; if he were still breathing, his frenzied, determined straining at his leash would be strangling him. Dante looked past him at the trail. He could now see it was a black, iron chain that ran between the posts up the cliff face. Also, there were grooves worn into the stone, almost like steps, so it wouldn’t be quite as daunting as it had looked from a distance. If anything, climbing down would be harder, since one would be walking backward while facing the cliff. Their difficulty now was they couldn’t get to the bottommost end of the chain leading up the cliff without going through the giant corpse now guarding it.

Radovan had his hand on his sword hilt. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he said. “They’re not supposed to have weapons.”

“Or be that big,” Dante muttered.

As they watched, the giant held his club above his head and gave a roar. Not just another completely inarticulate noise of rage. It almost seemed like words in some primitive, forgotten language. It sounded to Dante like, “Raphel may amech izabi almi!” Dante could hear Bogdana gasp behind him at this apparent attempt at speech. Garbled as it was, it was a whole sentence of some kind, uttered on the creature’s own initiative, and not just a one syllable trick as they had heard Manda’s “helper” perform.

“Good Lord,” Radovan whispered. “It can speak. We really are doomed.”

Adam stood between Dante and Radovan and put his hand on the latter’s shoulder. “Easy, my son,” Adam said. “Those who live and die the cursed life remember many things. This one remembers something about language. It can do him no good, but only torment him further. You may feel some shred of pity for him because of it. But do not fear him. We will attack him together, all three of us, and we will prevail. This is where you prove yourself men.”

Dante looked to Radovan, and both of them drew themselves up. “You distract him,” Radovan said. “I’ll try to attack him from behind. We’ll have a better chance.”

Dante nodded. He hardly liked the idea of being the decoy for such a formidable opponent, but he knew Radovan would have the better chance at striking it a fatal blow.

“You there!” Dante heard a man call from somewhere nearby. “What are you doing?”

They turned from the monster to see a live, more normal-sized man approaching them. His face was greasy and scarred, with a thin, scruffy beard. He carried a spear and wore leather armor. Adam gestured to Radovan and Dante to get their hands off their swords, then he called to the man. “Nothing. We just wanted to climb up the trail. We meant no harm.”

The man stood near them now. “Well, see that you don’t,” he said. “Or I’ll have to let Nimrod here off his leash to bash your heads in. Then I’ll have to get him back on his leash, and that could take some doing, so we don’t want that, do we?”

“Oh no. Nothing of the kind,” Adam agreed meekly.

“So, you want to go up the trail, eh? What for? I don’t call Nimrod off for just anybody. There’s no sightseeing in this valley!”

“Lord Ahriman sent for us,” Adam said without any pause. Dante cast a sideways look at him. Adam gestured to each of the four of them in turn. “A new guard, a new apothecary, a new alchemist, and a new maid and… whatever.” Dante thought it was risky, filling in too many details, but there was no turning back now.

The man leered. “I like plenty of ‘whatever,’” he said. “But she looks a bit well-used.”

“Well, her timing wasn’t perfect,” Dante agreed. “But she’s so pretty it seemed worth the trouble. I’m sure she’ll be quite enjoyable once she drops the extra baggage.”

The man snickered and let his eyes roam from Bogdana’s face to her breasts. “I suppose.” He stuck his spear in the ground. “Well, I can pull Nimrod out of your way, but it’ll take some work. I call him Nimrod because he’s so big and strong. Makes a great guard, so nobody goes up to Lord Ahriman’s unannounced. But it makes getting him out of the way a bit tricky.”

“I see,” Dante said, pretending not to get the implication.

The man was not a wily one; Dante had sized him up quickly. He was too used to people being overwhelmed by the threat of this monster, so he wasn’t prepared for any refusal or negotiation. And Dante was losing patience with greed in this part of the valley.

“I mean, it’ll take a lot of work,” the man repeated. “And the worker needs to be paid. Or the work doesn’t get done.”

Dante got out one silver coin and held it up between his thumb and forefinger. “And what if the worker works for a very important man? A man who must be obeyed and not questioned. Then the worker won’t want to delay that man’s visitors, will he, by trying to wring something extra from them?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. Dante could tell he was shamed and wanted to do something about it. Dante could also tell that getting paid this much was better than he usually did, and therefore he’d settle for it. The man took the coin.

“All right,” he grumbled, as he walked over to one of the stones to which the giant was affixed. He looked over to Dante. “Go over there.” He pointed further away.

Dante saw a third big stone with a metal loop attached to it. Dante led the other three to stand by it, as the man detached the creature’s chain. Half untethered, the giant immediately lurched toward them, but the second chain on him kept him moving in an arc without getting any closer to them, like a dog chained to a tree or post. The man with the chain then walked over to them and attached it to the rock closest to them, and the giant was trapped in a different spot, away from the trailhead.

When the creature was once more restrained, he let out another wail with his club held high. “Pape satan, aleppe!”

The man who unchained and rechained the dead man shook his head as he conducted the four travelers over to the trail. “Oh what is it now, Nimrod?” he asked. “Satan? Yes, I suppose we’ll all be seeing him soon enough. You especially, the way you’ve been acting. Now be still.” He pointed them to the chain and steps up the cliff face. “Just haul yourselves up. It’ll be colder when you get up there. It’s always colder up there, for some reason. Be on your way.”

Radovan started up the path. As Dante had suspected, it wasn’t as difficult as it looked at first, and the young man made good progress. Adam followed, with Bogdana after him, and Dante brought up the rear. About halfway up, Bogdana lost her footing and sent some rocks skittering down on Dante. He turned his head as the tiny avalanche pelted him. When it was over, he looked back up to see Bogdana peering down at him. Her foot that had slipped was still scratching the cliff face, trying to find purchase, and her face looked pale and sweaty.

“I’m fine,” he called to her. “Please don’t look down.”

The rest of the climb was thankfully uneventful and brief. Soon they were looking down on Nimrod and his handler. The latter wandered off as soon as they reached the top. Dante thought he probably only stayed that long in order to see if one of them would fall to his or her death, so he could loot the body. The former continued to stare, shaking his club and fist at them. Dante fancied he could catch more snippets of gibberish, in a tone that seemed to him both plaintive and enraged.