Surgard's Giant Problem
A light fantasy Friday short story
It isn’t easy talking to giants. They are known far and wide for being more interested in stomping and smashing things, than for their ability to maintain a conversation. But Surgard the Traveler was able to see this as a weakness. He used this insight to his advantage, and remembered the lesson for many days and years.
Surgard had just been commanded by the Lord of the Gods of the Northern People to travel the wide world. Durn was not just Lord of the Gods; he was also Lord of all bards. He realized that the bards were beginning to tell the same tales, and that if they didn’t get some new ones, everyone was going to be in trouble. Surgard had proved his wit, and Durn had no other young men to spare, so he send the youth on his way.
To leave the Northern lands, without crossing the land of the Crazy Deer Folk, you have to go to a coastal village and take a boat abroad. Surgard went to the coastal town closest to his village. He hoped to board a boat quietly, and start on his quest without getting into danger. After all, a journey that begins with danger will continue to be dangerous.
No boat was sailing the day he arrived, so Surgard decided to visit an inn and get some rest. He had no more entered the inn, asked for a cup, and said his name, when a graying man with a worried face approached him.
“Are you the Surgard who tricked Favig, the Trickster God, before the eyes of the greatest men of our land?” the man asked in a flat voice.
Surgard considered saying “No,” but his pride had not yet learned discipline.
“Yes, that’s me.”
The man sat down at Surgard’s table. “My village needs the help of a brave and clever man, Surgard. I am Vildur, chief of the nearby village of Nidund. A wicked giant has been threatening our village for the last month. He’s eating our livestock, crushing our homes, and he sometimes sleeps on our fields. If something isn’t done, we’ll starve come winter!”
“Can’t you fight him yourself?”
“We are simple farmers, Surgard. It’s been two generations since we produced a decent warrior, and he left to start his own village abroad.”
“I’m not sure what I could do, Vildur.”
Surgard did know his limitations. He wasn’t a great warrior, much less a ferocious berserker. He wasn’t especially tall or strong. He had no magical powers or enchanted weapons. What could he do against a raging giant?
“Would you at least come to our village and give us some advice? Perhaps you could help us hire someone, or remind us how heroes kill giants?”
Surgard looked hard at the unhappy elder. If I accept, the young man thought, not only might I miss my boat, but I might get killed. I doubt if I could help Durn from the Great Mead Hall. On the other hand, if I refuse, I may get called a coward. Any glory I might happen to win on my quest would be tainted. As well as the glory I know I’ll get when I finish the quest.
“Very well, Vildur. I’ll come to your village and do what I can.” As the man’s expression changed, Surgard raised his hands. “I can’t make you any promises, sir. I’m just one young man.”
“You’re a clever young man,” Vildur replied. “I trust you’ll do just fine.”
Surgard and Vildur journeyed a day and a night to get to the village of Nidund.
It was a small coastal village in a lowland area. The ground was fertile. The people had the ability could live off either crops, livestock, or fish. Surgard noticed that this bounty made the village well-fed but not rich. Therefore it couldn’t be a target of raiders, but was quite vulnerable to a ravenous giant.
True to what Vildur had said, Surgard saw that half the homes had been destroyed. The fields were pockmarked with giant footprints. Fence posts had been snapped like twigs, and the crushed bones of cattle were everywhere. Not only did the village appear devastated, but so did the people. Few stepped forward to greet their guest. Those that did said a word or two, then dashed back to their hovels. Nidund certainly needed a savior.
But that didn’t quite lift Surgard’s spirits. On the road to the village he conceived of many plans to drive away the evil giant. However, almost all involved some aid from the villagers, while the rest required complete assistance. These people, he mused, will have enough trouble making me an edible bowl of stew. They hardly have the will to face down a giant.
Vildur led Surgard into one of the few houses still standing. A stooped old woman met them at the door. She gave the young man a bowl, while Vildur poured him a drink. “So, Surgard,” the older man said as he poured, “have you a scheme for defeating the giant?”
“I’m afraid not,” Surgard answered. He took a sip and a spoonful of stew. “I had hoped that your people might be able to help me, but I fear the giant has already beaten them.”
“You could speak to them, rally them to your plan.”
“I fear my voice isn’t all that helpful when it comes to persuading people. I’d be lucky to convince one of them to sharpen my sword.”
“Well,” asked the old woman, “couldn’t you try to persuade to the giant to leave us alone?”
“Now, dear,” Vildur said, “we’ve already tried that. There’s just no talking to that monster. All he understands is crushing and hurting.”
“Maybe we should have just talked him to death.”
Surgard stopped eating for an instant. Something in the old woman’s words had struck a spark in his mind. Talk him to death, he thought. Persuade him to go away. If that giant isn’t very bright, perhaps he can be confused into leaving. But how?
“Have you an idea, Surgard?”
“Something, Vildur. But I need some time alone, to think. Tell your people to keep watch for the giant. I want to know the moment he returns to the village.”
Surgard didn’t get much time alone. Just as he was finishing his meal, one of the villagers timidly stuck his head into the house. “Surgard,” the man said, “we can hear the giant’s footsteps in the distance!”
Surgard left the home and found out Vildur. “Where is he?”
The old man pointed along the coastline. “Over the next rise, near the Gray Cliffs.”
“Very well. You keep your people here. I’ll head out alone.”
“You don’t want any help?”
Surgard smiled. “No, I think this is one time that a man can take on a giant alone, and win. I should be back by sunset.” He shook the old man’s hand, waved to the other villagers, then jogged along the coastline.
Sure enough, when he came to the Gray Cliffs, he saw the giant turning towards the village. The monster was a few times taller than he, with a lumpy face, dirty beard, grimy fur breeches, and a club the size of a small tree. Surgard had never seen a giant before, and the sight of this one didn’t make him eager for a repeat. But the creature looked as dumb as it was big, and that gave him some small comfort.
“Hello, giant!” called Surgard.
The monster stopped and looked at Surgard. “Who are you, little man?” His voice was deep, rumbling, and a touch slurred.
“My name is Surgard. What’s yours?”
The giant frowned. Apparently, it didn’t use its name very often. “Ylnud,” the giant said slowly.
“Nice to meet you. Can we talk?”
“No! I’m hungry.”
Surgard thought quickly. He hadn’t had time to perfect his plan. He had to change one part right away. “Uh, hungry, you say? You aren’t sick, are you?”
“No, I’m hungry.” The giant took a large step towards Surgard.
Surgard held his ground. “You’re sure you’re not sick?”
“Get out of my way, little man!” The giant took two more large steps.
“You don’t look well, Ylnud.”
The giant paused. “I don’t?”
“No! You look like you’ve been terribly sick. You look...” Surgard hesitated, partly to sound convincing, and partly to figure out what to say.
“How do I look?”
“Thin.”
“Thin? I’m not thin! I’m a giant!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
Surgard shook his head. “I don’t know, Ylnud. That could be your sickness talking.”
The giant frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, everyone gets sick now and again. Sometimes their sickness makes them a little crazy. They think they’re a bear, when they’re really a man. Your friends are worried about you, Ylnud. They sent me to find you, and see if you had that sort of a sickness.”
The giant’s eyes narrowed. “What friends?”
Surgard’s eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. “You don’t remember your friends? You really are sick!” He put his hands on his hips. “Tell me, are always hungry these days?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel like crushing things?”
“Yes.”
Surgard shook his head again. “That doesn’t sound like you, Ylnud.”
“I’m a giant! Giants crush little things and eat a lot.”
“No, they don’t.”
“They don’t?”
“No! They... tend wild horses, for Durn. Maybe once in a great while they eat a bear, or a mountain cat. Now, water giants, they eat every single day.” A look of shock raced onto Surgard’s face. “When was the last time you were swimming, Ylnud?”
“Swimming? I don’t swim.”
“By the heavens!” Surgard yelled. “No wonder you don’t remember your friends! You’ve spent too much time on land.”
“I have?”
“Yes! Tell me, have you had dreams of crushing houses and eating livestock?”
“No. I really have been doing all that.”
“Good grief, Ylnud! You have been having the sickness dreams! No wonder you look so terrible.”
“But I have been stomping houses,” the giant insisted.
“No, I just came from that village. It looks just fine. And no one’s touched their livestock.” Surgard frowned and shook his head. “Ylnud, you have got to get back to the sea right now!”
“I do?”
“Yes! The next thing you know, you’ll be seeing flying horses and... and huge lizards! And by then, you’ll be half-way dead! Save yourself! Leap into the sea, before it’s too late!”
The giant’s mouth opened, and his eyes widened. He turned towards the sea. He looked back at Surgard, who was waving frantically. The giant looked at the sea again, nodded, then dashed towards the cliff. He leapt over the edge, spread his arms, and closed his eyes.
The ground shuddered when the giant hit the rocks. Barrels of water splashed upward. Surgard waited for the shaking and spray to finish. He walked over to the cliff’s edge, looked down at the giant’s splattered body, and shook his head one last time.
“What an incredibly stupid creature,” he said.
And so, Surgard learned the lesson that those who keep their wits keen are mighty, and those that don’t make foolish leaps off cliffs.
This story was published in Quantum Barbarian, Issue 3, July-August 2003.
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Happy writing & happy reading!
What a thrilling story! Surgard’s quick wit and keen observation saved the day where brute strength could not. I loved his clever handling of Ylnud's pride. Well done!