The minute Prince Kalman merged back into the body of the stag, the petrified beast took off, covering the slopes of the mountainside in great, flying leaps. It didn’t need any urging, for the two giants that had been striding along the bottom of the glen had already turned towards the slopes and were even now lumbering menacingly upwards.
Bounding wildly across the hillside, Kalman thought at one stage that they might yet escape. The giants obviously thought so, too, for they started throwing boulders at them. Their aim, however, was way out and although the huge rocks bounced and crashed around them, they did little damage apart from freaking out the stag, which, by this time, was totally beyond Kalman’s control. In a blind panic, it raced across the heather taking dangerously great leaps as it cleared tumbling streams and scattered outcrops of rock. As the giants came ever closer, however, it turned frantically into a broad gully that seemed to offer a way of escape. It turned out to be a trap, however, as on turning a corner, Kalman realized with a sinking heart, that the gully was a dead end.
The giants roared in triumph as they saw that the stag was at their mercy while Kalman, deprived of most of his magic, knew real fear. There was nothing he could do but wait and as the stag reared desperately against the walls of the sheer cliff that barred their way, he watched in an agony of frustration and bitterness as the giants gathered boulders from the slopes. Was this how he was going to end his life?
Had the giants thrown the boulders at them, there and then, they might well have destroyed the prince. Afterwards, he could never quite work out why they hadn’t finished him off at once. It might have been that they just didn’t know that their new-found strength was limited but they certainly wasted valuable time and energy by gathering together a handy pile of rocks. It proved their undoing for, with sudden grunts of horror, they found themselves literally falling apart. Kalman, looking on in amazement, breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them collapse in front of him. Hope stirred within him and his heart lightened. He hadn’t realized that the giants were quite so vulnerable. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he’d thought, he mused. It might well be that Cri’achan Mòr had quite a long way to go before he became Lord of Morven.
Although the giants were now no more than a pile of rubble, Prince Kalman waited until the quivering stag had quietened down before he urged it over their broken remains and turned its head towards the north-east and Morven.
Morven! Thoughts of the mountain filled his mind. He just had to get there. All thoughts of enmity had fled. The quarrel with his father and the Sultan was nothing compared with this new danger, which posed the most serious threat that the Lords of the North had ever had to face. Could this Malfior be destroyed? he wondered. It was certainly a powerful force, for the amount of magic that he had been left with was pitifully small … nothing like the strength of power he was used to. Despite his weakness, he knew that the Lords of the North had to be warned at once and he only hoped that Firestar would be able to deal with the strange, fearsome entity that lurked in its depths.
The going, after that, was painfully slow. Kalman fulminated at their lack of progress for the stag had to be given time to rest, graze and drink. It was, however, a powerful animal and between times, kept a steady pace. Nevertheless, it was well after midnight when they reached the shores of Loch Lomond.
The waters of the loch gleamed silver in the moonlight and it was while Kalman was looking for a place for the stag to rest that the giants picked up on him again. Cri’achan Mòr must be tracking him through a crystal, he thought, as a huge giant rose suddenly, in tearing jerks from the slopes of the hills and bore down upon him in a thunder of noise.
Petrified by its abrupt appearance, the stag slipped and slid its way frantically downhill to where a road wound its way round the shores of the loch. Although busy with traffic during the day, there wasn’t a car in sight at this time of night and the frightened animal, who would not normally have gone anywhere near a road, feeling the smooth tarmac under its hooves, streaked along with the giant crashing heavily behind. Keep going, Prince Kalman urged the stag, willing it to run faster. Keep going and perhaps it’ll run out of energy like the others did.
The giant, however, was gaining and again Kalman thought he was done for when, lights blazing, a huge trailer carrying a load of tree trunks came thundering round a sharp bend in the road. The stag gave a sudden, spectacular leap that cleared the road but the giant was not so fortunate; nor so agile. As the astonished driver slammed on his brakes, the momentum of the trailer sent it straight into the giant’s legs. It was what you might call a no-win situation. The giant didn’t stand a chance. It broke into hundreds of pieces as its legs were demolished under it and roaring with fury, fell over the trailer in a jumble of rocks, stones and earth.
A van, headlights blazing, drew up with a screech of brakes behind the trailer. Kenny and Larry, sitting in the front seat, had been trying to overtake the monstrous vehicle for miles and its sudden halt took them by surprise and nearly sent them straight into the back of it.
Kalman, surrounded by ferns at the side of the road, looked at the van curiously, through the eyes of the stag. He had never in his life seen anything to equal it, for in the light of its blazing headlights he could see that it had been painted in the weirdest mixture of fluorescent colours that he’d ever had the misfortune to clap eyes on. The two lads that jumped down from the front seats looked around seventeen or eighteen and, colourwise, weren’t actually that much better than their van. Their vivid trousers, horrendous jackets and fantastically belled hats, however, served to give Kalman a clue as to their identities. Light dawned! Jesters, he thought, that’s what they must be — the modern equivalent of jesters! There could be no other reason for the multi-coloured clothes that they sported. He eyed their vehicle speculatively as they rushed to help the driver of the trailer and gradually deciphered the mosaic of lettering that shone vividly from its side. “The Jelly Beans,” he read, frowning in puzzled wonder. Jelly Beans?
It was actually quite some time before Kenny and Larry returned. The huge trailer had suffered little or no damage from the collision with the giant and apart from being shaken, the driver had recovered quickly enough. Nevertheless, he had a tight schedule to follow and, anxious to get on his way, he’d enlisted their help to clear the stones from the road so that he could continue his journey.
Kalman, by this time, had decided that the jesters and their van was just what he needed. As the two colourful figures strode back along the road, the stag limped forward and collapsed on its knees, seemingly totally exhausted. It lifted its head limply and eyed Larry beseechingly as he made to open the door.
“Hey, Kenny,” Larry called to his mate, “there’s a muckle great stag here, by the side of the road!”
Kenny appeared round the side of the van, the bells on his hat tinkling in the still night air. After a disaster at the hairdresser’s a while back that had left him looking like a fair-show freak, he’d decided to wear the multi-coloured hat all the time — or at least until his hair grew in again. This had proved a good move publicity-wise and although his hair had long since grown, they’d both continued to wear their startling outfits more or less all the time. Needless to say, the Jelly Beans, for that’s what they called themselves, were instantly recognizable in most towns and villages up and down the west coast of Scotland.
“That must be the stag that the giant was chasing,” he said, for the trailer driver had told him of the fantastic sight that had met his eyes as he took the bend. He walked up to it cautiously, mindful of the broad spread of antlers that topped the stag’s head.
“If what he said was true,” cautioned Larry. “I don’t know if he was having us on or not! All those rocks and things — it could have been a landslide.”
“I believed him all right,” Kenny muttered. “For heaven’s sake man, did ye no’ hear them talking about giants in the last pub we were in?”
“Aye, but … that was just talk, wasn’t it …?” Larry gulped and tailed off uncertainly as the huge stag scrambled to its feet and moved towards them. The bells in his fantastic hat jingled as he started back in alarm. “Blimey, Kenny,” he whispered, grabbing his arm as he flattened himself against the painted side of the van.
Kenny stiffened as the stag stood quietly in front of them but when it spoke, he eyed Larry sideways and then peered around to see if anyone else was there.
“What was that you said, Kenny?” Larry asked.
“I didn’t say anything,” Kenny whispered, his voice trembling as he glanced anxiously at the stag.
“Give over, mate,” Larry looked at him strangely, “it must have been you! There’s … there’s only us here.”
“It wasn’t me, I tell you! And if it wasn’t you … then … it must have been the stag!”
“I said, I want to go to Ballater,” Kalman tried not to sound too impatient.
Kenny gulped and grabbed at Larry’s arm. “Did you hear that? It is the stag that’s talking!” He looked at the animal in utter disbelief, for the words didn’t seem to come from the stag’s mouth at all; like Larry, he just heard the voice in his head. “You – want – to – go – to – Ballater,” he repeated.
The stag nodded its head forcefully. “The giants are chasing me. I must reach Ballater as soon as I can. It’s very important.”
“Ah dinni believe this,” Larry moaned, his face going suddenly grey.
Kalman sighed and using a little more of the magic left to him, kindled their spirit of adventure. It worked. Kenny suddenly grinned at Larry, his eyes shining. “Come on, Larry,” he said. “I’ve no idea what’s going on but we’ve got to save the stag! As far as I’m concerned, we’re going to Ballater!”
“Well, I know but …” Kenny’s excitement was infectious and looking at the stag with a new light in his eyes, Larry felt the full force of Kalman’s personality. Avoiding the attention of giants and taking a stag to Ballater suddenly seemed the most sensible thing in the world and forgetting everything in the excitement of the moment, Larry ran behind the gaudily-painted van and held its back door open with something of a flourish. “Ballater it is then,” he said, the bells in his cap jingling wildly, “if you can fit yourself in here, that is!”