Faun and Games (22 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Fantasy fiction, #Xanth (Imaginary place), #Xanth (Imaginary place) - Fiction

BOOK: Faun and Games
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kind." He was sincere; the ogre had truly impressed him.

 

"No, I am merely an average ogre," Orgy said sadly.
 
"But thank you for

the compliment."

 

Forrest stared.
 
"You're not rhyming!"

 

"I never did rhyme.
 
No ogre does.
 
It is merely your perception that

changed."

 

"But you still look like an ogre to me."

 

"But now you see me as an individual, instead of a monster.
 
You have

achieved respect.
 
So you are able to hear me as I am."

 

"I never realized!
 
Do you mean that all ogres are cultured, instead of

being stupid?"

 

"That depends entirely on your perception."

 

"I was afraid you were going to crunch me."

 

"I was, until you showed that you had discovered respect.
 
We ogres

crunch only the ignorant." , "This is an education," Forrest said. "I'll

never view ogres the same a am."

 

"Excellent.
 
You should have no further fear of us.
 
But why did you

come here?"

 

"I need your help.
 
I'm looking for the dear horn."

 

"Olio!
 
You wish to trade services."

 

"Yes.
 
Is there anything I can do for you?"

 

"I'm afraid not.
 
I am completely satisfied.
 
I am sorry you came here

for nothing."

 

Forrest had been afraid of this.
 
"I came here with two companions. They

remained apart, for fear of getting crunched.
 
They might be able to

figure out a service that you need.
 
Then we could trade.
 
Would it be

all right if they 'sined me here?"

 

"That depends on their perspective.
 
If they are ordinary, I'll be

obliged to crunch them.
 
Protocol., you know."

 

"Suppose I explain to them about respect?"

 

"They may not listen.
 
Most folk are sure they know the nature of

ogres."

 

"But if I can make them understand?"

 

"Then they will be welcome to the hospitality of the castle."

 

"Let me go fetch them.
 
Maybe we can do each other some good after all."

 

"As you wish.
 
Meanwhile, I shall return to my bashing."

 

As Forrest walked out of the castle, Orgy Ogre waded into the nearest

wall, bashing it into rubble with his two hamfists.
 
The whole structure

shuddered.
 
Such was the ogre's ferocity that it was a wonder that any

of the castle remained standing.
 
Forrest realized that this was the

sound he had heard before, when he stood outside the door.
 
No wonder it

required the bell-weather to get the ogre's attention.
 
.

 

He went out the door, which remained open.
 
But it swung closed once he

was clear; apparently it was set to let visitors out, but not to let

them in.
 
So it was a magic door.
 
He departed the bleak castle

environs, and walked on across the blasted terrain to where the two

inai-es stood.
 
They looked amazed and relieved to see him.

 

"You may enter the ogre's den," he said.
 
"But there is a caution."

 

"That's a severe understatement," Catliryn said.
 
"Are you sure t's

safe?"

 

]t will be safe if you have the right attitude."

 

Both mares looked at him doubtfully.
 
"How can attitude save a person

from being crunched by a monster'?" Imbri asked.

 

"You have to leave your prejudice behind, and have proper respect.

 

"For an ogre?" Cathryn asked incredulously.

 

Forrest realized that there was a problem.
 
"He's really a very cultured

creature.
 
You just have to see him as such."

 

The two mares exchanged a Significant Glance.
 
"I suppose even a stink

horn has its culture," Imbri remarked to no one in particular.

 

They were locked into their prejudice.
 
He had to get rid of it, or it

would not be safe for them to enter the ogre's den.
 
"Remember how you

viewed me, at first?
 
As just another faun looking for a nymph to

chase?"

 

They nodded.

 

"Do you still view me that way?"

 

"No," Cathryn said.
 
"You have a lot more character than I originally

supposed."

 

"So can you appreciate that originally you were operating on prejudice?"

 

"Nonsense!
 
Centaurs aren't prejudiced." Then she reconsidered. "But I'm

very young now, so maybe you do have a point."

 

"So can you appreciate that the ogre may have qualities to be respected,

if you viewed him without prejudice?"

 

"An ogre?" Then she heard herself, and laughed.
 
"You wouldn't be

teasing a centaur foal, would you?"

 

"No.
 
I am serious.
 
It is a matter of life or crunching.
 
The ogre

doesn't crunch those who respect him."

 

Imbri was havin her own problem.
 
"Respecting an ogre is an oxymoron, a

contradiction in terms.
 
They are sheer brutes."

 

"Then respect his brutishness.
 
But see him as worthy in his own right."

 

"Well, I suppose I can make the effort."

 

"So can I," Cathryn said.
 
"Even if I do get crunched."

 

They walked back to the castle.
 
They came to a stop before the great

door.
 
"Now remember: he's an individual.
 
You will know this by his

speech: it doesn't rhyme."

 

"All ogres speak in stupid rhyming couplets," Cathryn said.

 

"No.
 
They are merely heard that way by ignorant outsiders.
 
If you hear

him rhyming, don't speak, because he'll know you don't respect him.

 

"This is we'trd," the centaur said.

 

Forrest picked up the rod and banged the bell-weather.
 
The fierce

little storm formed, and the commotion summoned the ogre to the door.

This time all three of them were sucked inward by the swoosh of air. The

ogre stood there, as huge and brutish as ever.

 

"OrGy, these are my friends Mare Imbrium and Cathryn Centaur," Forrest

said.
 
"Mares, this is Orgy Ogre, master of this castle."

 

"Hello, Orgy," Imbri said bravely.

 

"Likewise," Cathryn said, looking as if she were ready to spread her

wings and fly away.

 

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, fair mares," Orgy said graciously.

 

Imbri hesitated, then smiled.
 
"And I yours, ugly ogre," she replied.

But Cathryn kept her mouth shut.
 
Forrest knew that was trouble. Orgy

stared down at the centaur.
 
"Please repeat what I just said to you," he

requested.

 

Cathryn took a step back with each hoof, looking twice as nervous as

before.

 

"But all he said was-" Forrest began, but stopped when a severe glance

from the ogre cut him off.
 
He realized that this was a test the centaur

had to pass on her own.

 

"You said 'Who cares, she mares?"

 

" she said.
 
Then, after half a pause, she reconsidered.
 
"Wait, that

isn't quite it.
 
You said-you said you were glad to make our

acquaintance, and you called us fair mares."

 

Forrest breathed a silent sigh of relief.
 
"Then welcome into my

castle," Orgy said grandly, and led the way down the hall.

 

"You're- ight," Cathryn inuri-nui-ed as she walked beside Forrest. "He

doesn't- hyme, when I listen with an open- mind."

 

Forrest noticed thitt one of the w;tils he had thought was in rubhle was

actually solid.
 
Maybe this was a difl'erent passage, though it seemed

to be the only one available.

 

They came to a central hall that had some spare furnishings.
 
"You must

be hungry," Orgy said.
 
"Come sit at my iliagic table."

 

Actually the rough-hewn tree-trunk timber table was way too big and hi,h

for any of them.
 
But the ogre found blocks to put on the seats of the

huge chairs, for Forrest and Imbri, and gently lifted them up so that

they could sit at the level of the table.
 
Cathryn was able to stand on

her chair so that her head was high enough.

 

Food appeared.
 
Steaming pots emerged from a window in the wall at the

end of the table and walked on stout little legs to the center, and a

big cocoa pot arrived similarly.
 
Plates and utensils slid along 'I they

took their proper places before each person.
 
Then the pots unti lifted

serving spoons and plopped stew onto each plate, wlille the cocoa pot

siphoned steaming cocoa into each mug.

 

Orgy dived into his stew with gusto, slurping and splashing.
 
But then

Forrest reminded himselt- about attitude, and looked again, more

carefully-and saw that the ogre was using a big spoon in the

conventional human manner, and neither slurping nor splashing.
 
His

prejudice had tried to reassert itself.

 

They tried their own portions.
 
Forrest found the substance in his stew

to be almost nut-like, and quite good.
 
The mares seemed to be enjoying

theirs too.

 

"If I may inquire," Cathryn said, "what kind of stew is this?"

 

"Horse dropping stew," Orgy said.

 

She blinked.
 
The stew was brown and lumpy.
 
Then she smiled,

surmounting her prejudice.
 
"Horse chestnuts," she said.

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