Page 33 of Fair Weather Enemies
“Not neshess…sharily.”
All four of them jerked their heads toward the loud, strange voice. They found the slumbering drunk sliding off the table to mount unsteady feet. He wobbled toward them with a pint glass in one hand and plopped into an empty chair upon reaching their table. He barked a laugh, showering them with fetid breath that reeked of ale. Adam recovered first from the surprise.
“You know of someone who may help us?”
A look of affront crossed the man’s face. He stabbed a thumb into his chest. “I can help you. I know everything ’bout this area. There ain’t a thing I don’ know. Ask me. Go ’head.”
Adam glanced at Jane with lifted eyebrows. She nodded to him. He turned back to the drunk.
“What is your name, uh, sir?”
“Thithelthwet.” The named seemed a slur of unintelligible syllables.
“Thithelthwet?” said Adam.
“No, no, boy. I said, Thi…thel…thwet.”
Adam looked to Jane again with confusion. She leaned forward to address the drunk.
“Thistlethwaite?”
“Yes,” he roared happily, “Just as I said. Thithelthwet. The boy has sap in ’is ears.”
Adam shook his head. “Right, then. Now, Mr. Thistlethwaite, as you are the expert in all things local, perhaps you might possess the answer to a very specific question.”
The drunk seemed affronted anew. “Might? Might, you say? I jus’ tol’ you. I know everything. Go ’head. Ask me.”
“Very well, sir. What can you tell us of…” Adam paused to shake his head, apparently embarrassed by the nature of the question. “Giants in the area?”
Jane expected a blank look, a cock of the head, or some other indication that Thistlethwaite knew nothing at all. He surprised her by slapping his hand on the table and roaring with delight.
“Giants? Giants, you say? Why, I know all ’bout giants. I can tell you everything about the Giant of Castle Hewen. Wouldja like to know?Hmm?”
The foursome exchanged startled glances. Jane leaned toward the man once more, excitement rising. “Yes, Mr. Thistlethwaite. Tell us all about that giant.”
“Very well, miss.” He gripped a grimy lapel. “In days of yore, Castle Hewen belonged to the Bad Baron, Ewan Caesario. Nine feet tall, he was.” The man lifted an arm overhead to demonstrate the height and nearly tumbled backward in his chair before arresting his fall. “Nine feet. Maybe ten.”
Jane eyed Adam with surprise. He shrugged. She looked again at the drunk. “So, sir, he was an actual giant, not a metaphorical one?”
“Thas what I said, miss. Ten feet tall. Maybe eleven.”
“Go on, Mr. Thistlethwaite. What can you tell us about him?”
“Everything.” He lifted his empty pint glass to his lips and threw it back before lowering it again to the table. “The Bad Baron was behaving, well, badly. He was treatin’ people badly and taking their flocks and frightening children. Thas why they called him the Bad Baron, you know.”
“Of course. Go on.”
“That was until…” He paused dramatically. “King Arthur ’imself came to put a stop to his nonsense.”
Jane locked gazes with Adam, and they shared an unspoken revelation. A king! And one who defied him! Thistlethwaite, meanwhile, resumed his story.
“So, King Arthur fought the Bad Baron, he did. And he shoulda beaten the giant, but the giant knewmagic.” He said that last word with wonder and waved his hands back and forth over each other. “Magic, I tell ya. He used the magic to capture Arthur. Then he said, ‘I’ll release you if you answer a riddle.’ Of course, bein’ that Arthur loved a good riddle, and bein’ that Arthur cared not for captivity, he agreed.”
Thistlethwaite tried his empty glass again, frowned, and returned it to the table. He stared at it with disappointment. Adam nudged his shoulder.
“What was the riddle, sir? What happened next?”
Thistlethwaite peered at Adam with confusion before his eyes widened. “Oh, the riddle! Yes, yes. The riddle went thus. What is it that women most desire?”
