Free Sworn To Conflict: Courtlight #3 by Terah Edun Page A

amazement as she said, “You’re a frost giant.”
    “Yes.” The cut had already healed on Inga’s arm.
    Frost giants were a legendary people, kith that lived in the highest reaches of the Northern Mountains. They were tall, fearsome creatures that could not be killed and bore the strength of a hundred men. They were supposed to be a bluish color all over with no hair, and were rumored to have sixty claws like daggers on their hands. Legend also said that their blood ran as blue as their skin, and that the only way to kill a frost giant was to hack at it until the snow underneath a bright blue. And here stood one before her.
    No , many , Ciardis realized as she truly looked at the women who moved around the frost giant encampment with ease. They all looked like Inga, with strong, fearsome bodies, long blonde hair braided to their waists, and dispositions that were outsized.
    Ciardis contemplated turning around and telling Kane and Titus that they were going back the way they’d come. She wasn’t an idiot. Frost giants were not only fearsome warriors but were also rumored to be cannibalistic. She looked up at Inga and watched the proud woman’s face harden in distaste. She took careful note of the soldiers meandering around the encampment that didn’t once look at any of the frost giants inside. Not out of fear, Ciardis realized, but out of pride. It was quite clear that the human soldiers and the frost giants were allies but not compatriots. Silently she wondered how it came to be—a contingent of frost giant women in a soldiers’ camp made wholly of human men.
    With an honest desire, Ciardis spoke. “Is the food of your people open to a human such as me?”
    Inga studied her seriously and a ghost of a smiled showed on her face.
    “Yes,” she replied, satisfied, sheathing her knife. “But your male dogs will wait in attendance. They will not eat.”
    Ciardis stiffened in outrage on behalf of Titus and Kane until she felt the whisper of a touch on the back of her neck. Glancing up, she saw Titus shake his head in warning.
    “Very well,” Ciardis said.
    Inga turned and Ciardis, Titus and Kane followed behind her through the gates into the frost giant encampment.
    Ciardis looked around as much as she could while bracketed by Kane and Titus. She openly stared at the tall woman warriors, the shortest of which was at least nine feet tall. They were a small group, but they all looked a lot alike. Several were sharpening weapons, others were carving wood, and more were lounging by the fire in the center. Inga led them over to a small creature that stood menacingly over a pot of bubbling stew. Inga grabbed two wooden bowls and handed one to Ciardis. The bowl was as big, as deep, and as heavy as a solid metal chamber pot. She staggered under the weight.
    Inga snorted when she saw Ciardis’s predicament and grabbed it back from her.
    “Smells good. Thank you,” Inga said affably to the thing serving the stew. It had four arms that were visible above the big, black cauldron, at least three sets of eyes, and enough silvery blue fur to outfit a dozen coats. With awe and unease, Ciardis realized she was looking at a spidersilk. A creature coveted for the smooth and silky fur that it shed which was used by many mages. Spidersilks were rare creatures that didn’t leave the North, ever , and were highly poisonous. When it opened its mouth to coo at Inga, Ciardis blanched. It had four fangs in its mouth. All dripping with the toxin that was said could kill dragons...or at least make them very sick.
    The spidersilk made some clicking noises at Ciardis once it served her the stew. Inga guffawed.
    “It says you’re too small to eat. You need to fatten up.”
    Ciardis outright stumbled. “I hope it doesn’t plan to eat me.”
    “You never know what a spidersilk plans to do,” said Inga as she sat down on a log that looked like it had been ripped from a great and might tree. Ciardis came up beside her but couldn’t even