| Mook and the Giant: The First Part. |
May 7, 2008 12:01 pm
1721 Views | Druoon Antigoon was a giant who lived in a small village near the River Scheldt. From his earliest years he was rejected by the other villagers. The children beat him when they could, and mocked him when they couldn’t. Even the adults crossed the street when they could, and crossed themselves when they couldn’t.
Obviously, being a giant, Druoon Antigoon soon towered over his parents. As much as they loved him, the constant hostility from their neighbours and Druoon’s enormous appetite was too great a strain on the aging couple. One spring day they told their son that he would have to fend for himself. Giant tears washed the cottage floor as they bade him farewell. Although huge in stature, Druoon was still a child, and the parting broke his heart.
Blinded by his tears, he stumbled out of the village followed by a jeering crowd. One boy threw a stone which found its mark, and Druoon started to bleed above the eye. Sensing vulnerability others picked up rocks and stones and began pelting the weeping giant. Druoon staggered under the onslaught and fell to his knees. The crowd surrounded him, taunting and cursing. A man stepped forward with a knife and slashed at his face. Druoon raised his hands to protect himself. As blow followed blow, the backs of his hands were cut to tatters. Unable to bear the pain any longer, he gave a mighty cry and broke free from his tormenters. No one could keep pace with the giant as he fled.
Druoon went to live alone on the banks of the River Scheldt where he built himself a crude hut and managed to scrape a living by fishing. Years passed. One morning he was awoken by a loud knocking on the door of his shack. A fat merchant was outside demanding passage across the river. It seemed the nearby bridge had been washed away by floods and the merchant would be ruined if he didn’t get his wares to the market in time. Druoon demanded a tenth part of the value of the cargo as payment. The merchant was unhappy, but had no choice. Druoon carried the caravan across the river, and the merchant grudgingly paid the agreed price. From that day forward Druoon became lord of the river. Not only did he ferry travellers across the river, but he destroyed every boat and raft for miles upstream and down. The villagers were outraged. They were dependent on the one they had driven away so long ago, and there was little they could do about it. Druoon was now fully grown and stood as tall as three men. The villagers no longer dared to attack him.
Druoon had not forgotten the harsh treatment he had received in his youth. In fact, with the passing of time, his bitterness towards the villagers had increased and become a burning hatred. His parents were now both dead, and Druoon was alone. His heart had hardened in its solitude. He demanded a tenth part of any cargo to be ferried across the river, and refused passage to those who could not pay. Sometimes travellers tried to cheat him, thinking him large of build but small of wit. This was a mistake. Druoon was a giant, the last of an ancient race, and he had some of the old magic about him. He was not a fairytale giant, outwitted by any young Jack-the-lad. He knew when he was being lied to, and he did not like being lied to. If he was lied to he became angry, and when he became angry his hands would throb with pain. When his hands hurt he remembered all the hurts that he had been done, and when this happened he would yearn for vengeance; and in his anger and his pain he would take it.
If anyone refused to pay in full, Druoon would cut off their right hand and throw it in the river.
In this manner, Druoon terrorised the region. He tore down every bridge and sank every boat that the people tried to use to bypass him. He extorted money and goods from the rich and the poor, and the honest and the crooked alike. The people became desperate, and sent a messenger to the king.
The king sent a knight. And not just any knight. The king sent Mook.
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