In the Company of Ogres (17 page)
Regina punched him. He barely felt the blow, but that he felt it at all spoke well of the Amazon’s strength.
“How dare you!” She cocked back her fist.
“I know you think I deserved that, so I’ll let you have the first one for free.” The ogre inhaled, puffing out his thick chest. “Second one will cost you.”
Her hand dropped to her empty scabbard. If her sword hadn’t been left in the pub, she would’ve tried her luck. Instead she turned her wrath back to its original source. She glowered at Gabel. He glowered back.
Frank leaned against a wall. “Go ahead. Kill each other if it’ll make you feel better. I just wanted you to do it someplace more private. With your fists.”
Gabel adopted the stooped posture of traditional orcish wrestling. “I’m so sick of your precious Amazon superiority. It’s time to show you what a man can do.”
Regina laughed. “You push a quill across paperwork all day. You’re not a warrior. You’re a file clerk.”
“Watch her left,” Frank advised. “She leads with her left.”
Howling, Gabel charged. Saliva and foam sprayed from his lips as he dove, his outstretched hands reaching for her neck. She darted to one side and chopped him in the throat. Gagging, he fell to his knees.
“She’s not bad with her right either,” added Frank.
Regina circled her choking opponent until he could get to his feet.
“Lucky shot,” sputtered Gabel.
He rushed her again. Regina spun and thrust her heel into his gut, knocking the wind from him.
“Gotta keep an eye on the legs,” said Frank.
Gabel used a wall to steady himself. “Now you tell me.” His breath was ragged. His green face paled in the moonlight. This time he moved forward cautiously. He was still unprepared when she grabbed him by the wrist, and with a pivot and a jerk, he was down on the ground.
“Okay.” Gabel sat up. “I definitely spotted a flaw in her technique that time.”
Frank closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of combat, consisting of one orc being tossed around, thumping against the stony ground, bouncing off the brick walls, and once smashing into a couple of empty mead barrels. Frank was positive he’d heard Gabel break something. When the racket fell silent save for the orc’s ragged breaths, Frank opened his eyes again.
“All done?”
For Regina, battle in all its forms was a calming exercise, as close to meditation as an Amazon ever got. Beating Gabel had taken her edge off. “I’m done if he’s done.”
Gabel lay on the ground where he’d fallen and wheezed a noise that might be taken as surrender. “What are we going to do about Ned?” he asked between gasps.
“Whatever we have to,” said Frank. “But the rule is none of us acts unless we all agree. And since none of us agrees—”
“We wait.” Regina ground her heel into Gabel’s gut as she walked away.
He waited until absolutely, positively certain she was out of earshot before pushing himself up on an elbow. “Her judgment is impaired.”
“What are you saying?” asked Frank.
“I’m saying maybe she’s become a liability.”
Frank seized Gabel in one huge hand, lifted the orc to his feet, and didn’t let go. “I don’t want to hear talk like that.” He tightened his grip.
Gabel winced. His legs buckled, but Frank kept him from falling.
“What’s the big deal?” asked Gabel. “We’ve taken care of problems like this before.”
“We stick together. If we turn on each other, it’ll all fall apart.”
Frank squeezed tighter.
“Okay, okay. I get the point.”
Frank let go.
Gabel staggered a bit, nearly falling over again. “But you have to admit she’s not thinking clearly. What do you think she sees in him?”
“I don’t know. She deserves a lot better.”
“Deserves? What do you mean by that?”
“She could do a lot better.”
Gabel looked up at Frank, and Frank looked down.
“You didn’t say that,” remarked Gabel. “You said ‘deserves.’ ”
“So?”
“It’s a funny word to use,” said Gabel.
“Funny how?”
“Just funny.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about it,” said Frank.
“Forget it.” Gabel attempted to limp away, but Frank clamped his hand back on the orc’s shoulder.
“Funny how?”
“It’s nothing really. Just the context. Just the way you said it.”
“How did I say it?”
“Like it meant something.”
Gabel would’ve been happy to leave it at that, but Frank exerted a tad more pressure upon the orc’s bruised, swollen shoulder.
“It just sounded like maybe you liked her,” Gabel said.
Frank let go. “I don’t like her. I mean, I do like her, but I don’t like her. Not like that. I don’t
like her
like her, if that’s what you mean.”
like her
like her, if that’s what you mean.”
“Of course, you don’t. Even the mere notion of an ogre and an Amazon together is perfectly ludicrous.”
Frank scowled. “Yes. Ludicrous.”
“Absolutely laughable,” said Gabel. “Totally ridiculous.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Frank.
“I’ll admit she’s nice to look at, but that personality doesn’t help much.”
“I like her personality,” mumbled Frank.
“Can you imagine what she’d be like in bed? Probably telling you what to do all the time. ‘Move here! Put that there! More to the left! Too far left! Oh, you’re doing it all wrong, maggot! Pleasure me properly, maggot, or it’s a thousand sit-ups!’”
“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” mumbled Frank, though Gabel didn’t hear.
“And even her taste in men is preposterous. Hundreds of stout, worthy soldiers in this citadel, and she picks the one guy who can’t go a day without dying? Women ... who can figure them out?”
“Yes,” agreed Frank softly. “Women.”
They started back to the pub. Battered and sore, Gabel limped along, holding his right arm stiffly.
“You might want to get that looked at,” said Frank.
Gabel snorted. “It’ll be fine until I get a couple drinks in me.”
They walked a bit farther.
“It’s not perfectly ludicrous,” said Frank, mostly to himself.
“What?”
“You said that an Amazon and an ogre together would be perfectly ludicrous.”
“Yes?”
“So it’s not perfectly ludicrous.”
Gabel came to a sudden stop. Frank bumped into the orc and nearly knocked him off his feet again.
“What are you talking about?” asked Gabel.
“Nothing really,” said Frank. “It’s just, I don’t think it’s right to say it’s a perfectly ludicrous pairing. We ogres have many qualities an Amazon might find desirable. We’re big. We’re strong. We fight well. We’re grand drinkers and passionate lovers. And we like to cuddle.”
Gabel shook his head. “Fine. It’s not perfectly ludicrous.” He turned to walk but halted when Frank didn’t follow. “Are you coming or not?”
Frank folded his arms and nodded thoughtfully to himself. “We agree then. It’s just ludicrous. But not perfectly so.”
Gabel forced a smile. “No, not perfectly so.”
“Very good.”
“So do you like her?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Frank replied. “Although she’s a fine woman. If she were an ogress, she’d make some lucky ogre a fine wife.” He smiled wistfully.
“You do. You do like her!”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
The ogre lowered his voice to a whisper. “Okay. Maybe I like her a little. But only a little bit.”
Gabel chuckled. The laugh rattled a cracked rib and brought tears to his eyes. “What’s so funny?” asked Frank.
Gabel continued to chortle and groan.
Frank spat. “I don’t really like her that much. Hardly at all actually.” He put a finger to the sore spot under his collar-bone where Regina had punched him. In the moonlight, there were indications that it might turn into a small bruise. He smiled.
“But if you think about it, it’s not that ludicrous at all.”
“Whatever you say.” Gabel started back, determined neither broken bones nor lovesick ogres would keep him from a tall, stout ale.
Fourteen
NED DRAGGED HIMSELF out of bed twenty minutes before sunrise. He wasn’t a morning person, and he nearly rolled over and went back to sleep. But he managed somehow to get dressed and haul himself into the main courtyard. Gabel, Regina, and Frank were waiting for him. Gabel and Frank looked just as put out, but Regina, having kept a strict regimen despite Ogre Company’s lackluster discipline, was keen and alert. A goblin bugler was also present. The little fellow slept, sprawled out across the hard cobblestones. Ned wanted to lie down beside him.
He noticed Gabel’s severely bruised condition. His left forearm was tightly bandaged, and he used a long mace as a walking stick.
“What happened to you?” asked Ned.
“I tripped,” said Gabel.
“Must’ve been some fall,” said Ned.
“I’ve had worse, sir.”
“Shall we get started, sir?” asked Regina.
Ned nodded.
Regina kicked the snoozing goblin awake. The bugler sat up, rubbed his eyes, yawned. He remained sitting as he put the bugle to his lips and blew the call for morning assembly. He completed the tune in three minutes, then immediately went back to sleep.
The courtyard was empty.
Regina prodded the slumbering bugler again. He turned heavy eyelids in her direction.
“Sound the call,” she commanded.
“Again?”
She picked him up by his long ears.
“All right, all right.” He blew into his bugle once more. Again, after the call was finished the courtyard remained empty.
Ned ordered the call sounded over and over again. Twenty minutes later, soldiers began to show. None seemed any happier to be there than Ned did. It was forty-five minutes from the arrival of the first soldier to the last, but eventually the courtyard was filled with drowsy, grumpy personnel. Most hadn’t gotten properly dressed, and while it was true ogres were formidable creatures, it was hard to take them seriously in their underwear. The soldiers hadn’t managed a correct formation of rank and file, and were milling about in a griping mob.
“Sound the call to attention,” Ned told the bugler.
The goblin put the instrument to his lips, but after a pause he lowered it. “What’s that sound like? I forget.”
Ned strained his memory. It’d been a while since he’d heard it himself. “I think it goes da-da-da-dum, da-dum, da-dum, dum-dum-da-dee.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but that’s the dismissal song,” said Frank. “Call to attention has more pep. Da-dee-da-dee, dum-dum-dee-dum, dee-dee, I believe.”
“I thought it was more like dee-dee-dee-dee, dum-dum-dee-, dee-dee-doh,” said Gabel.
“You’re both wrong,” countered Regina. “It’s dum-dum-dee-dee, dum-dum-dee-dum.”
“That’s the orcish wedding march,” said Gabel. “Call to attention has more
ooomphh.”
ooomphh.”
“What’s
ooomphh?”
asked Frank.
ooomphh?”
asked Frank.
“It’s half the pep,” said Gabel, “and about three-quarters more pizzazz.”
“There’s no pizzazz in the call to attention,” said Regina, “and if you ask me, he’s already overdoing the pep.”
The insulted bugler balked. “My pep is always dead-on, I’ll have you know. My pizzazz is nearly perfect. I’ll grant you my
ooomphh
isn’t always on target, but I’d say a touch more
shebang
and a healthy dose of
zing
is what’s required here. I could throw in a little
wawawa
as well. That never hurts.”
ooomphh
isn’t always on target, but I’d say a touch more
shebang
and a healthy dose of
zing
is what’s required here. I could throw in a little
wawawa
as well. That never hurts.”
“There’s no place for
wawawa
in legitimate military music,” said Regina.
wawawa
in legitimate military music,” said Regina.
“Yes,” agreed Gabel. “Just stick with the
ooomphh.”
ooomphh.”
“No
shebang
either?” said the bugler.
shebang
either?” said the bugler.
“I guess you could put in a little
shebang,”
said Gabel, “but if I even hear one note of
wawawa
I’ll have you thrown in the brig.”
shebang,”
said Gabel, “but if I even hear one note of
wawawa
I’ll have you thrown in the brig.”
Though small, the bugler’s slight chest was mostly lungs, and he unleashed a long blast of musical improvisation. The discordant tune filled the citadel. The orcs and goblins nodded along appreciatively, while everyone else covered their ears. The powerful sound floated all the way to the roc pens where the giant birds proceeded to tear at each other in panicked alarm. Caught up in the performance, the bugler kept on playing until Ned gave the order to stop, and Regina yanked away his instrument.
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