The dust slowly settled, revealing the open gateway, one door hanging from snapped hinges, the other gone entirely.

A huge shape came shambling through, all teeth and claw and fur, eyes glaring, a giant sitting astride it bellowing a war cry, brandishing a war-hammer.

Pots whined and tucked his tail between his legs.

Trigg hissed beside Haelan, her whole body tensing.

All became chaos.

The warriors lined before the gates spread out in a half-circle, over a dozen of them. Haelan saw them all drop their spears and shields, reaching to their backs for their axes.

Then the axes were spinning through the air, crunching into the giant and his bear. The giant toppled from his saddle, his face a red ruin, axe-blades buried deep in his chest. The bear bellowed, two axes in its skull, staggered on half a dozen steps and crashed to the ground, sending up a fresh cloud of dust.

The men of Gramm’s hold have fought giants before.

Another bear appeared in the gateway, surging through it, the giant upon it yelling a battle-cry and brandishing a spear as thick as a small tree.

A giantess, Haelan thought absently, noting the lack of moustache.

She flung her spear at the warriors gathered before the gates as they scrabbled for their own shields and spears. The giants’ spear struck one and sent him crashing backwards in a fountain of blood. The bear powered forwards, as broad as two stallions and taller, and smashed into the clustered warriors, raking one paw through them, leaving a trail of gore. Some still standing stabbed with their spears, piercing the bear’s thick coat. Haelan saw blood flow from a handful of wounds, but the bear ignored them, tore the head from a warrior with its powerful jaws, the giant on its back swinging a war-hammer, turning another warrior to bloody pulp. More shapes appeared behind the giant and bear – warriors on horseback surging in upon either side, the unmistakable sound of more bears roaring beyond the wall.

Something fell from the wall above, hurtling towards the bear and its giant-rider in the courtyard.

Gramm. Not falling. Leaping.

He was yelling, swinging his great axe. With a wet crunch it slammed into the giantess’ head, blood, bone and brain erupting.

The bear roared, standing on its hind legs and flinging Gramm and the dead giant to the dirt, the surviving warriors before it cringing back. With a concussive boom the bear fell back to all-fours and sniffed the giant. It lifted its head and roared again, spittle spraying from its jaws. Gramm staggered to his feet, swaying, and the bear raised a huge paw and swiped him, sending him flying through the air to land and roll to a stop at the feast-hall steps. He did not move.