The earth erupted in a mass of rocks and soil, startling the sheep grazing on the hillside. They scattered, bleating their panic as a series of thumps shook the ground.

'What!' exclaimed Claiyt, lifting his sleep-filled head from the gnarled tree trunk. His eyes widened at seeing the rocks rolling down the hill. 'Shit, Jedra!' he screeched, pulling at his wisp of a beard. 'Yer gotta see this!'

'Huh?' A tall skinny youth staggered to his feet and caught sight of the sheep disappearing down a dried watercourse. 'The blood-cursed sheep are running off and you're s'posed to be on watch. We'll cop it from the Elders if any go missing.'

'Did yer hear it, Jedra!' yelled Claiyt, grabbing at his friend's woollen tunic. 'Did yer?'

'Sheep. That's what we've gotta worry about. Sheep, not whatever you've been dreaming. Come on or as sure as hell every brigand in Dravia will be eating roast mutton.' Jedra bent down to pick up his water bottle, satchel and spear.

Claiyt glanced up to the site of the eruption puzzling at the wisps of steam rising into the blue sky before snatching his own belongings.

 

Rocks rattled from the hole near the summit of the hill. Metal clinked and an armoured head rose above the rim, metal-gloved hands focussing a set of bronze-rimmed oculars on the departing youths.

'Sendra!' The figure turned in a faint screech of metal. 'I think we may have been noticed by the overlanders.'

'Marcrem?' A similarly armoured figure appeared against a dark structure further down the hole.

'The Beasts, I think.'

'At once!'

Sendra turned and pushed a metal door, causing it to swing silently inwards, revealing a well-lit space. A drift of steam puffed from his concealed shoulder vents as he walked inside.

Marcrem continued to scan the countryside, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on his metal sleeve.

He relaxed at the scrabble of bronze claws and a grim smile split the metal mask. Two four-legged beasts climbed past, steam filtering from their nostrils. 'Hold!' he snapped, arm held out. The creatures froze. 'Sendra, will they be able to track overlanders amongst those animals?'

'Sir, the olfactories are calibrated and the beasts will operate for over two hours until they need refuelling. I anticipate they'll return well before that.'

'The General will accept nothing less,' Marcrem growled. 'There must be no hint of our presence.' He dropped his arm and the waist-high forms, metallic teeth clashing, leapt from the hole before pounding down the hillside and out of sight, steam hissing from their bronze-coloured bodies.

Soon the screaming echoed.

 

'Disturbing reports, Elder Potriatis,' said a large man with greying beard and a swelling paunch his robes failed to conceal. 'A sentinel slaughtered. Sheep too. The wounds are consistent with wolves but the words of the survivor don't make sense.'

'Mmmm,' nodded the Elder as he considered the statesman's words. 'This is indeed worrying, Elder Sensesis.' He looked at the man sitting on the cushioned seat across the large marble-tiled room. 'Continue.'

Sensesis took a sip of wine from a blue glass. 'One Claiyt, a fit enough young man with fair training, reports a, uh, hill exploding in the middle of the day. This caused the sheep to scatter. Shortly thereafter they were set upon by two beasts best described as wolves of metal.'

'An exploding hill?' Elder Potriatis had an amused expression on his lined face. 'And wolves of metal? If it weren't so serious I'd think you were duping me.'

The large man sat forward. 'No, Potriatis, no. This Claiyt seemed certain of his facts even though he knew he might not be believed. And as for the wolves--my words, not his. But he spoke of the impossible metal beasts and steam.

'I sent him to the apothecary.'

'So, Sensesis.' The Elder ran a hand through his sparse grey hair. 'I think we should discuss this disturbing event in the Quorum.'

'I agree, Potraitis.' The large man stood. 'I shall make the necessary arrangements.'

 

'General,' Marcrem bent his head to the figure emerging out of the dark tunnel. 'We are in readiness.'

'Were you observed?' The metal head's piercing yellow eyes focussed on Marcrem, steam hissing from its mouth vent.

'Uncertain, sir. We believe two herders of, ah, sheep may have heard something, but the Beasts resolved that issue. They returned bloodied.'

'Hmm, no matter.' The General's head turned towards the night sky. 'I assume you've verified our position?'

'Sir,' replied Marcrem. 'We emerged in the hill two miles east of Dreverium, as calculated. The mountains of Atlasius are behind us, to the west. Aside from a dam or two there is little habitation to concern us.'

'Good. The locals should be easily overcome. The primitives cannot compete with our technology.' He paused, watching the far off twinkle of lights from Dreverium.

'What are your orders, General?'

'Continue as you are. We assemble and move the force out at first light. We need this land taken with a little spoilage as possible.' The figure looked at Marcrem. 'Go about your duties.'

'Sir.' Marcrem descended into the tunnel.

'Yes,' mused the leader. 'Our people will be most pleased. From famine to plenty, from sterile underground to the bountiful surface. Yes, most pleased.' He slipped armour-clad arms behind his back and looked up at the star-studded sky. 'To be the first in generations to observe those fabled objects.'

 

A figure crept up the slope, brown tunic melding into the drying grass and scattered bushes. He hid behind a boulder and peered into the darkness. A slight clink of metal, coupled with a hiss caught his attention. He crawled silently towards the bank of freshly disturbed soil then hesitated before picking up a small object from the ground and sliding it into his waist pouch, then creeping backwards across the hillside.

A hiss and the movement of a bulky bronzed-head above the bank made him freeze. He watched a white cloud rise and dissipate before he continued moving to where a large water-filled dam filled the space between the hills. He paused for a moment then ran past the dam and along a track leading to Dreverium.

 

'No, you can't go it there!' came the loud voice of the guard. 'The Quorum's in session.'

'I must! I have news!'

'Claiyt, Elder Potriatis,' said Elder Sensesis, standing from amongst a group of robed men around the long wooden table. 'He's been back to the site of the massacre.'

'Bid him enter,' said the Elder. 'His words will surely aid our discussion.'

All the eyes focussed on the entrance to the meeting room as the youth walked hesitantly through the door. His tunic was dirty and mud covered his knees. Several of the Elders huffed at the breach of etiquette.

Elder Potraitis lifted an arm. 'Speak, young Claiyt. You have news of import?'

The youth's eyes flicked over the men of his city, the city of Dreverium before he reached into the pouch at his waist. He lifted a thin object about the length of his hand and placed it on the table in front the Elder. It clunked as it met the surface.

'Why, it's just a piece of bronze rod,' said a lined-face Elder.

'Is it?' Sensesis picked it up. 'It is weighty, very hard by its look, though bronze-coloured. What is it, Claiyt?'

The youth looked at the metal object. 'I don't know. It came from where the hill exploded, from where the beasts came that killed Jedra. I saw men there too. Metal men, same colour.'

The Elders started speaking amongst themselves until Sensesis raised his hand. 'Claiyt, repeat what you said.'

Claiyt took a large breath. 'I, uh, think it came from them. The metal men.'

'Huh.' A red-faced Elder of large build stood and pointed at the youth. 'You can't believe the ramblings of a beardless, untried youth. How can we make decisions of import based on such imaginings?'

'Elder Obstyentius!' Potraitis eyes flashed. 'Sit down and listen.' The man sat. 'Claiyt is the eye-witness to the massacre of the youth, Jedra, and almost an entire flock of sheep. His report is important.' He looked slowly around the table before signalling to Claiyt. 'Continue.'

And...' Claiyt's eyes widened, 'there... there was steam coming from them, like when water is boiling.'

Obstyentius jumped back to his feet. 'See, he is merely inventing a story.'

The table erupted into furious talk with the Elders shouting and waving their arms. Potraitis beckoned them to silence.

'It seems that we have a potential enemy using metals and of unknown power. A very real threat to the city.' He smiled sadly. 'What we do about it is open to discussion, but I believe we will have little time to decide.'

Claiyt waited until the talking died down before he cleared his throat. All eyes turned towards him. 'I... I think I might know of a way...'

 

The sun was rising from the sea, its rays lighting the dry hills, the olive-green vegetation and turning the walls of the city red. A caterpillar of bronze snaked its way along a dried watercourse towards the city of Dreverium.

Claiyt and a team of youths had left for the hills hours earlier, armed with digging equipment, the future of the city resting on their shoulders.

 

The stone walls of the city manned by squads of soldiers wearing tunics and armed with spears and bows, who were marching nervously to and fro along the parapets, looking into the hills that formed a backdrop to the city. Several patrols sent into those hills had not returned and rumours had spread of steam-producing metal creatures inhabiting them.

An eerie echoing wailing was the first indication of something amiss. Spears rattled and archers fitted arrows to their bows. A faint vibration was felt on the walls as the noise grew.

They focussed on a narrow road bisecting two hills.

A large figure, twice the height of a man, emerged and walked ponderously forward, stopping only three hundred feet away. A square metal head rested on armoured bronze-shoulders, the metal-plated body studded with rivets, legs and arms were metal pipes ending in gross feet and hands. Trickles of steam rose from hidden vents. A number of similar but smaller figures came up behind it. Flanking them were over a dozen four-footed, waist-high beasts, clashing metal teeth.

'I fear you were right, Potraitis,' murmured Obstyentius as he edged his way along the wall, horrified by what he was seeing.

'Whatever they are, I don't see how we can defeat them with our bows and spears,' said Potraitis to Sensesis.

The larger man gripped his friend's shoulder.

The huge metal figure began to move in a large hiss of steam, each step punctuated by a hideous squeal. It neared the city. The archers loosed a volley of arrows which rattled off the armour to no effect. Each step took the figure closer to the massive timbered gates. Its army followed as the metal man broke through the barrier without effort. The four-footed beasts ran into the city square, biting and slashing, blood flying, men dying.

The terrified elders pressed against the stone battlements as the metal giant's head rotated their way, the body half turned, eye holes glowing redly. The mouth clanged open.

'Portraitis, may we meet in the afterlife,' said Sensesis.

'No, my friend,' said Potriatis. 'Move back. We must have hope.'

The screaming of the people melded with the thumps and bangs as the metal army continued its destruction.

Then a rumbling began causing the very wall to shiver. 'Look!' an archer shouted, arm pointing towards the road.

The ground appeared to ripple as first a trickle then a muddy wall of roiling water came thundering down the valley. The invading force stopped their killing to face the onslaught. The water rushed into the city walls, then funnelled through the opening in a powerful torrent.

'They've done it!' shouted Potraitis. 'They've done it!'

But the metal army stood firm, angled into the angry waters.

'It's not working!' said Sensesis, fingers gripping the stone.

A metal beast, bloodied cloth hanging from jaws, suddenly shivered as the water reached its neck. It disappeared in a rush of steam. One by one the remaining beasts disappeared under the torrent.

 

'This can't be!' The General's voice overcame the roar of the water. 'We have the right. Marcrem, stop it!'

Marcrem erupted in a plume of steam.

'Kill them! Kill them all!' The General screamed at the huge metal man. 'We must survive!'

The large figure placed a huge hand on the wall, gaze fixed on the cowering Elders. Ignoring the explosion of the General's body, it placed a second hand, then a massive foot onto the parapet and heaved upwards.

The defenceless men cowered away from the menacing bulk.

But the weight put strain on the wall already weakened by the deluge. It broke. Slowly, ponderously the creature fell backwards into the muddy waters, red eyes fastened on its prey.

A huge eruption of mud-coloured steam signalled its end.

 

***

 

'Legends are made, not born. And Talus, the bronze giant was not the hero of our legend. It was a man, merely a man. It was he who slew the giant.'

'Come, my children,' he said, 'and let us pass a leisure hour in storytelling. And our story shall be the education of our heroes. For heroes are created in the moment and not made as the myths would have us believe.

Elder Potraitis looked through the window at the young Elder Claiyt walking past in bright new robes of authority, before he turned back to the wide-eyed children facing him.