In the Company of Ogres (33 page)
“Why don’t you both shut up?” asked Frank. It was clearly not a question. “And stop acting like fools. I mean, look at yourselves. You’re two of our finest officers, and you’ve reduced yourselves to this.”
The crowd murmured as it milled about. The fight appeared over, and they were losing interest. Ned, on the other hand, was very interested. He hoped Frank could fix this problem. He didn’t want anyone to die.
Ralph crept stealthily up behind Ned. It was difficult for ogres to attach the adjective “stealthily” to anything they did, but the mob of disinterested ogres all around offered just the right camouflage. Ralph palmed a blade in one of his hands and slipped closer to Ned’s exposed back.
Frank continued his lecture. “You two really should be ashamed. What kind of example is this for the company?”
“She challenged my honor,” said Regina.
“And she’s just a bitch,” countered Miriam.
They pounced on one another and got in a few good hits before Frank managed to separate them again. He shook his head and sighed.
“Is all this really worth it? Do either of you really like Ned enough to die for him? To kill for him?”
They both glanced at Ned, who just stood there and shrugged.
“I like him,” said Miriam.
“Well, I love him,” replied Regina.
“I love him more!” shouted Miriam.
“No, you don’t,” said Ned suddenly. He stepped forward just as Ralph was half a second from driving the knife into his back. The treasonous ogre cursed under his breath and quickly hid the weapon behind his back.
“You don’t love me,” said Ned. “You don’t even know me.”
Miriam said, “But I think I could love you.”
Regina said, “And I think I could too.”
“Maybe you could,” agreed Ned, though he didn’t believe it very possible. “But shouldn’t you know for sure before you decide to start killing each other?”
Regina lowered her head. Miriam’s golden scales darkened with a crimson blush.
“Good then,” said Frank. “Then it’s settled. Nobody dies just yet.”
A shadow blotted out the sky as a tremendous green roc landed with a boom upon the pub roof. The roof supported the roc’s weight for a full second before collapsing, and the soldiers of Ogre Company groaned. The roc thrashed, smashing everything in its attempts to get free.
Ace, riding the saddle atop its neck, cursed and yanked at the reins. “Damn it, Kevin! What’s wrong with you?”
“Get that thing out of here!” shouted Frank.
“I’m trying, sir! I’m trying!”
Kevin shrieked and squawked. He calmed suddenly and scanned the crowd until his eyes fell upon Never Dead Ned. Then his beak parted, but instead of a shrill warble, out came a voice.
“Ned.”
“I didn’t know they could talk,” observed Private Elmer from the crowd.
“They can’t,” said Ace.
“Never Dead Ned,” said Kevin with his newfound human voice. But it wasn’t his voice. It was the voice of a dead wizard, and Ned’s blood ran cold. Belok was back.
Kevin ruffled his feathers and clucked the deep, thoughtful clucks of a roc enchanted with a will other than his own.
“Kill Never Dead Ned.”
Ned didn’t hear. He was too busy running away.
Twenty-six
NED HAD NEVER been swift, and the mob broken into chaos all about him diminished his speed. The only reason he wasn’t knocked to the ground and trampled to death was that many of the surrounding soldiers, realizing Ned was the great roc’s target, shied away from him. Kevin would’ve easily overtaken him, except that despite the enchantment digesting in the roc’s stomach, he wasn’t a very bright beast. He was terrifically intelligent for a roc, which made him only slightly smarter than a keenly sensible boulder. In the panicked crowd he had a bit of trouble picking out Ned from all the other darting morsels. His vicious, barbed beak would pluck a prospective tidbit, and if by chance it turned out to be a tasty goblin, he’d slurp it down. If it were an ogre or elf or some other morsel offensive to his peculiar dietary preferences, he’d hurl it away in disgust.
His thundering footsteps crushed fleeing soldiers, and more than once he lost his balance and toppled over, crushing even more and growing irritated.
Swearing, Ace swatted the roc across the head with an iron club and yanked at the reins. Kevin ignored his rider and continued the search, scooping up three goblins in his maw, swallowing them whole.
“Neeeeeeeeeeeeed!” he howled.
A flash of recognition twinkled in the bird’s enchanted brain. One speck, easier to spot because the other specks avoided it, rushed toward the safety of a building. Kevin spread his wings, hopped in the air, and sailed across the courtyard to land with a crash between Ned and his escape.
The monster stabbed at him with a pointed beak. Ned barely stumbled backward in time, but Kevin raised his head in a flash and struck again. Ace managed to hit a sensitive spot just above the eye. Kevin’s head veered. His beak gouged the ground scant feet from Ned.
Kevin shook fiercely and jumped about in an effort to rid himself of his passenger. Ace held tight, cursing, his pipe clenched tightly in his determined jaws.
“Is that all you got?” he taunted. “C’mon, Kevin boy, I expected more!”
In his wild thrashing the roc spun around, and his long, serpentine tail thumped the ground again and again. Ned rolled to one side, barely avoiding a flattening. He rolled to the other without a second to spare. But the third swat fell with certain doom.
Lewis and Martin intercepted the strike. The twins, sharing one body with the strength of two ogres, sank to their knees but stopped the collision. They held the tail, struggling against its spasms. Kevin grew even more furious, with a goblin banging his skull and ogres grasping his tail.
Ned gaped when he should’ve been running. It’d been so long since death had been anything more than an inconvenience. His flight reflexes had atrophied.
Kevin finally snapped his head hard enough to send Ace flying. He sailed high in the air toward the other side of the citadel, probably to bounce on his rubbery goblin butt with only a bruise to show for it.
Ned turned and dashed toward the nearest building in the opposite direction. He tripped over a goblin running around in panicked circles and was knocked down by a fleeing ore. These hardly stopped him, as he was too focused on escape to notice a few bruises and scrapes.
A new glimmer of intelligence flashed in Kevin’s eye. He cracked his tail in Ned’s direction. The twins lost their grip and were hurled to bounce twice on the cobblestones before landing atop Ned. Lewis was out cold, and Martin, stunned, could barely groan. Ned couldn’t move at all as Kevin stamped his way over. The roc brushed aside the twins with a fresh, uncharacteristic delicate sweep of his talons. Ned, still not quite ready to lie down and die, crawled for it. His progress ended with a smashing roc foot in his path.
He curled up in a ball and waited for death. He presumed it wouldn’t be a long wait.
Kevin laughed. Hot breath washed over Ned. He dared open his eye and look into the roc’s face.
“It will not be an easy death for you, Ned,” said Kevin. “No crushing jaws, no sudden end.”
Ned stared down the roc’s gullet. “You can’t do this, Belok. Killing me won’t hurt me. It’ll only destroy the universe.”
Kevin cocked his head to one side, then another.
“Who’s Belok?”
The roc was the same color as goblins because he’d eaten so many, but he wasn’t a goblin. And he had Belok’s voice, his intellect, and his hate of Ned through a quirk of digestion and a bit of magic. But Kevin wasn’t Belok, and where even the dark wizard might’ve hesitated to sacrifice the entire universe for his revenge, Kevin only knew Ned must suffer, must die for some very good reason that the monster couldn’t quite remember. Kevin was still more roc than wizard, and so he was little troubled by subtleties of motivation.
He seized Ned by a leg, delicately so as not to break anything just yet, for Kevin wanted to enjoy every bit of Ned’s suffering. The roc spread his wings to fly away to a less distracting location.
A javelin pierced his shoulder, quickly followed by another. The wounds weren’t deep, but the pain pushed aside his higher reasoning. He shrieked, releasing Ned, who fell hard to the ground with the wind knocked from him. By some miracle nothing felt broken, but he could barely get to his knees.
Regina hurled a third javelin and held out her empty hand so that Miriam, carrying a bundle, could give her another.
Frank lifted Ned and passed the battered, bruised commander to a nearby ogre. “Get him out of here.”
Ralph saluted. “Yes, sir.” He roughly threw Ned over his shoulder and ran. Every thumping step rattled Ned’s brain.
Kevin spread his wings wide. His green feathers ruffled. He lowered his head and charged his attackers. Frank held his ground. When the roc was about to tear him in half with a vicious swiping beak, Frank punched Kevin across the nose. The monster staggered, more shocked than injured. Nothing had ever challenged his charge before. He snapped again. Frank unleashed a solid uppercut that swayed Kevin, even buckling his knees and knocking loose a tooth, and Kevin’s unfocused rage found a new target.
“Get out of the way!” shouted Regina. “I can’t get a clear shot!”
“Can’t get a clear shot?” said Miriam. “The thing’s as big as ... well, as big as a damned big roc.”
Miriam was correct. Regina had plenty of target if she was interested in sticking dozens of javelins into the beast. But all the vital points were behind the very large ogre currently bloodying his knuckles on Kevin’s stubborn chin.
“I don’t see you doing anything,” said Regina. “Other than carrying my spears.”
“You’re right.” Miriam dropped the weapons. She closed her eyes and began to hum, and the air around the siren shimmered darkly. Regina got a bad feeling about that.
Frank did his part to distract Kevin. Regina had never seen him fight before. His intimidating size cooled most tempers. She knew ogres to be strong, and Frank, being an unusually large specimen, was even stronger. But she’d never imagined him capable of fending off a roc single-handed. That took more than strength. That took skill. Frank was remarkably agile. It wasn’t a dancer’s grace, a fencer’s elegance. Ogres weren’t built for that. It was the art of the brawl, the confident form of an extraordinary pugilist. Not a single wasted move. Every strike delivered with deadly precision. Whenever Kevin lunged, he received a hindering blow across his beak, over and over again.
Miriam opened her eyes. The black orbs were now literally blood red. Sanguine tears ran down her cheeks. The veins on her fins throbbed. Her body trembled. The cobblestones cracked around her feet. Whatever the siren was up to, Regina hoped it would be quick. Even with all his skill and strength Frank couldn’t hold Kevin forever.
Tired of getting smacked across his sore beak, Kevin tried to crush Frank beneath his foot. The attempt pushed Frank on his back, where he strained his immense muscles to keep Kevin from pulverizing him. It was a losing effort. The foot fell inch by inch until it pressed down on his chest.
Kevin chuckled. “Die, Ned.”
“I’m ... not ... Ned,” he wheezed.
Kevin’s brow furrowed. It was the first time a roc’s brow had ever furrowed—in fact, rocs were incapable of the expression. Only the dark magic coursing through his veins allowed Kevin to do it. He shrugged. This too was a roc first.
“You’ll do.”
A javelin buried itself in his neck. Green blood sprayed from the wound. Frank’s massive muscles discovered newfound strength and shoved the stunned beast off him. He clasped his hands together and clocked Kevin across the face. The force snapped the roc’s head back and spun his entire body. His serpentine tail whipped around, caught the ogre. Frank was flung across the courtyard and hit a wall hard enough to smash through it.
“Frank!” called Regina, though she wasn’t certain why.
Kevin, blood dripping from the javelins piercing his flesh, turned his attention upon the Amazon. Regina prepared to throw another, but it wasn’t likely to stop Kevin.
“Whatever you’re doing, do it fast,” she said to Miriam.
There was a note hidden behind the scales of melody by the twisted gods of harmony. It didn’t belong in this world, but it was known by the siren race. Other races spoke of it in whispers. Sirens spoke of it not at all for fear a slip of their charmed voices might blast continents to dust. It could not be taught. It could only be found by a siren of sufficient desperation and skill. Miriam’s voice was barely adequate by siren standards, but she was desperate. And she found it.
Her lips parted ever so slightly. The final note was silent, but none would’ve heard if she’d made a sound. For the earth rumbled and the clouds screamed. Miriam’s song surged from her throat, blossoming from her mouth into a twenty-foot-wide blast of boiling air and slicing winds. The cobblestones heaved themselves into the air. The note poured over Regina, knocking her to the ground. It rushed into the roc, who struggled to remain upright against the gale. The blast continued on, disintegrating a small guard shack that had fallen into disuse. It carried past that, shattering a section of Copper Citadel’s outer wall. Still it continued, scouring the grass from the earth, uprooting trees, and freezing the river miles away. By then much of its force was spent, and it surrendered to the wind, which snatched it away into the sky where it infected a fluffy white cloud. The cloud darkened and grew angry, and for the next six centuries it would roam the skies in search of weddings, harvest festivals, and other joyous occasions upon which to rain down bricks or flaming dog dung or dead beetles.
Other books
Living by the Word by Alice Walker
Redeeming Justice by Suzanne Halliday
The Further Adventures of The Joker by Martin H. Greenberg
The Bucklin Wolves Next Generation: Revelations by Jessica Ryan
Permanent Marker by Angel Payne
Death in the Clouds by Agatha Christie
Measure of My Days by Scott-Maxwell, Florida
Forgive Me by Beale, Ashley
Living with Love (Lessons in Love) by Clarissa Carlyle
La tierra heredada 2 - Cosecha de esclavos by Andrew Butcher
