by Andrew Lynch
Agonising seconds passed, but the cave returned to inactivity. And at last, they found themselves almost at the exit. Lucian checked on his team, and everyone was still there, still hugging the arena walls. Unfortunately, it appeared that no one had passed the plan onto the wolf - who would have no doubt ignored it anyway the mood she was in - as she was walking straight through the middle of the clearing. Apparently she had smelled food in the form of discarded carcasses that the ogres hadn’t stripped clean.
He couldn’t try and draw her attention in any way, as any noise could be fatal. They would just have to hope the ogres wouldn’t smell the wolf and come out for dessert.
His horse arrived on the softer ground at last. Softer, not soft, he thought as he saw the dried cracks in the dirt, but still an improvement on the lethal rocks.
At this point, inevitably, things went wrong. The rest of the team had picked up the pace, the natural urge to get away from giant, dumb monsters a feeling Lucian could share.
However, the sight of the pack running triggered something in the wolf. Something completely understandable, but very inconvenient.
The wolf howled. Was it telling the pack to wait? That there was a great mound of meat free for the taking, so come get some? Lucian didn’t know - but he did know that every night when the wolf had howled, the horses had spooked. Just like now.
Still, the group were all competent in the saddle, so a few instinctive strides of a hard gallop were all the horses could get away with. But that was enough to cause a big problem.
As Lucian was getting his horse under control, he heard from the arena a thump, a yelp, and a cry of “Blood of the Gods!”.
He heard it several times, actually, as the echoes bounced around the arena.
He turned in alarm and saw a riderless horse run past him. Khleb had been left writhing on the sharp gravel.
The wolf was slowly picking her way over to the team. So, she didn’t want to be left behind? Rather cute, Lucian had time to think, before another loud roar boomed from the cave mouth.
Lucian had never actually seen an ogre before. He had only read a few passages in a book, describing them as “house sized” - it had been a book on carpentry and not entirely relevant.
He had also heard that they were foul tempered, idiotic brutes that would maim, kill, cook, and eat you. If you were lucky, it would even happen in that order.
Lucian tried to convey his knowledge of ogres, and how little they should be in the vicinity of them, with a series of curses, and by invoking the wrath of as many Gods as he could think of if Khleb didn’t get up faster.
Khleb seemed to be doing little more than squirming around. He’d put a hand down to push himself up, but had instantly stopped, swearing, having to pick out sharp stones that had drawn blood everywhere they touched open skin.
Lucian then had the great displeasure of seeing an ogre first hand. A huge, meaty, fist, the colour of pale inhuman flesh, gripped the top of the cave mouth. A tree flew out of the cave, passing the wolf who wisely decided to speed up, and spasmed to jump clear. A stooped form hauled itself out of the cave, squeezing its bulk through what it made look like a tiny opening.
Lucian decided that his book on carpentry had been quite accurate about the height of ogres - they really were the size of a small house - which struck him as odd for a book about timber. However, he now had to make several urgent decisions, so banished thoughts about carpentry to the back of his mind.
He jumped off his horse, pointing it in the direction of the team and slapped its rear, trusting the herd instinct not to lose it forever.
The ogre looked his way. It was terrifyingly huge, with small beady eyes that were still larger than a Human’s head, and hands that could engulf the wolf. Clearly ogres didn’t have the same social pressures on staying in shape as living in the Empire imposed upon Humans - its fleshy bulk wobbled with every gigantic movement. Tusks jutted from its mouth, appearing small and dainty, but in fact easily the size of Lucian’s leg. It had no hair on its body, or at least none he could see at this distance. The fact it wore a loincloth meant that at least it subscribed to certain traditions on modesty.
Lucian rushed the few metres to pick up Khleb. In those brief seconds, the ogre had picked up the tree it was presumably going to use as a club to maim, and kill, them all.
‘Damn it! Get up!’ Lucian shouted as he started to pull Khleb to his feet.
‘I’m in so much pain,’ Khleb said weakly.
Lucian managed to start dragging the flaccid Khleb off the small spikes, which were noticeable even through the hard leather soles of his boots. He heard the reassuring stampede of hooves behind him - his team coming to back him up. The hope this gave him was a small drop in the bucket of his fear, as the ogre had started to charge towards them. Its stride took it sailing - like a barge on land, but sailing none the less - over the wolf. The tree was resting on its left shoulder, as if it was going to casually sweep all of them aside and be done with them.
Which it probably could do, Lucian thought as he realised he wouldn’t manage to get Khleb off the stones before the ogre was on top of them.
He dropped Khleb, invoking more cursing, wriggling, and sobbing from the thief. The ogre was closing too fast for an expert shot from his bow to its eyeball, and anyway Lucian doubted he could make that shot given how much he was trembling now. The ground was shaking with every step the ogre took. No, bows were right out.
His team appeared beside him, taking up their positions, ready to help take down the ogre. Gar moved in front of them all, planted his shield in the ground, and braced himself. Lucian couldn’t decide if Gar was stupid or downright heroic. A monster the size of a house was charging his group, and all Lucian could do was draw a tiny hatchet and get ready to jump out of the way, letting his teammate take the hit. Would the shield - and Gar - even slow the ogre down? Maybe they'd get lucky and it would trip. Lucian wasn’t even sure if their weapons could pierce its skin, because it certainly didn’t care about the sharp stones it was charging over. The same stones that had reduced Khleb to a whimpering wreck.
When Gar was sure the ogre wouldn’t change course, he wedged his shoulder into the shield and set his feet. He let out a cry. The traditional battlecry of his people. The shout of a man who knew what was about to happen. The stupidity of standing and fighting, mixed with the bravery of standing and fighting, created a wail unique to the battlefield. The rest of the group joined in, cries reverberating throughout the arena. Lucian hoped for a moment that the animal nature of the ogre would hear the noise and be scared off. That didn’t seem such a silly idea. Very possible.
His throat became dry as his scream continued, the collective sound hurting his ears. Just as the ogre was about to clash with Gar, Lucian realised he couldn’t bear to see someone that had grown to become his friend, crushed. He closed his eyes.
Fighting has a strange effect on time. Seconds can seem like hours, and hours can seem like minutes. In this strange time warp, his lungful of breath ran out. He stopped screaming. The ground had stopped shaking. Had it been seconds? Minutes? Hours? Had death come so fast he hadn’t even noticed it?
‘What everyone ’cream about?’
The rumbling voice shook his chest and hurt his ears.
He opened his eyes to see the ogre, tree still resting on its shoulder, squatting down, resting quietly on its heels. With its other hand it idly stroked the wolf, who seemed content to sit at its side.
They stood frozen, Khleb still sniffling at Lucian’s feet. Some nervous glances were exchanged, but no one knew what to do. Certainly Gar seemed rather surprised about not being dead. Lucian attempted a cautious “hello?” but nothing came out of his hoarse throat. After a polite amount of time, the ogre tried again. ‘My accent too ’trong? Fir’t time ’peaking to human?’
Aside from the chest-crushing volume, the voice was perfectly understandable. Deep, and with an accent Lucian couldn’t place. While the Aviq sounded alien, and unrelatable t
o a human voice, this was definitely a human voice, just more.
Lucian was spurred into action by Gar, who stepped out of his bracing stance, lifted his shield from the ground, and faced his leader. Arms limp at his sides, he shrugged, mouthing a thickly accented question. A sign any natural born leader knew was his cue to start doing some leading - even if he couldn’t make out what was said.
‘Hi,’ was all Lucian could get out, and it was only a squeak at that.
‘I’m very big? Could you ’peak louder, plea’e?’
Lucian cleared his throat and tried again, shouting, ‘Hello!’
The ogre stood up - towering over the group like a, well, like a tower - and took one big step over to Lucian, sat back on its haunches and thrust out its hand. Lucian flinched instinctively but the blow didn’t land. ‘Hello? I’m Gluk? Nice to meet you? No need to ’hout though, I’m big, not deaf?’
Lucian realised that the outstretched hand was a greeting. Quite a standard Human greeting. The ogre - “Gluk” not giving him any hint on pronouns - wanted to shake hands.
Lucian weighed the pros and cons of a broken hand against a socially snubbed and potentially enraged ogre, and placed his hand in the fleshy vice.
Much to his surprise, his hand was not instantly crushed, and the skin felt like smooth leather, warm to the touch. The ogre gently vibrated its hand, resulting in wild swinging motions for Lucian that stopped just short of dislocating his shoulder.
‘Sorry for shouting. May I ask a question?’ Lucian said.
‘Ye'?’
‘What are you doing?’
The rest of the group looked bewildered, not yet confident enough to put away their weapons.
The ogre looked puzzled. Then it looked at the tree still resting on its shoulder. It jumped up, causing everyone to flinch, expecting an imminent crushing. But instead Gluk rushed over to a wall and propped the tree against it. Talking casually as it came back to the group it explained its embarrassment. ‘I wa’ ju’t going to do a ’pot of cleaning? Tidy the place up a bit after our holiday?’
‘With your absurdly large broom…’ Lucian connected the pieces of the puzzle. ‘That makes sense. But I was referring more to the fact that we are still alive.’
‘You ’ure? The one on the floor there look’ dead?’
Lucian glanced at Khleb, who, sure enough, had stopped whimpering. Or moving. He gave him an experimental nudge with his boot. Khleb groaned.
‘Quite sure, yes.’
The ogre looked at Khleb with concern, but then switched gear as it remembered the question. It said in as soft a voice as it could, as if it were talking to someone a bit simple, ‘Why would we hurt our fir’t human gue’t’ ever?’
The ogre moved to gently pat him on the head, but Lucian jumped out of the way. Adventurer’s instincts.
‘Right, don’t misunderstand, I think we're all very glad to not have to fight you.’ Everyone, including the ogre, nodded at this sage statement. ‘And I'll be the first to admit, I’ve never met an ogre before.’ Everyone else nodded again. ‘But I had expected to end up rather... flatter.’
‘Oh, I did not mean to flatter you?’ the ogre said earnestly.
Lucian realised the ogre was asking a lot of questions. In fact, everything it had said so far seemed to be one. Regardless, this question would forever be lost in the void of translation. He forged ahead.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but I'd like to cut straight to the chase.’
‘Exerci’e good?’
‘Yes chase is exercise, right. So, you mentioned a “we”? Should we be expecting something violent to happen soon?’
The ogre pondered for a moment. ‘No?’
‘Worryingly long pause, but a good result. Why do you keep saying everything as a question?’
‘I’m not?’
‘There it is again.’
By this point the rest of the group had carried Khleb on to the softer ground and was picking large stone shards out of his skin.
‘Oh? ’orry? We are ’elf taught in the common tongue?’
‘Elves taught you?’
‘No, no. We taught our ’elves.’
Lucian looked puzzled, but Jess saved the day with her unique flair. ‘Don’t be dense, Lucian. They clearly cannot pronounce an “ess” sound, likely because of their tusks impeding them.’
Lucian took a second to appreciate the gigantic, curled chunk of bone protruding from the ogre’s mouth. Looming only a few metres from his face, it was an impressive formation, similar to a warthog’s, but roughly the size of Lucian’s leg and then some.
The ogre nodded happily at Jess. ‘We don’t even try? We just ’kip that ’illy letter entirely? When we were learning, we tried to avoid ’aying it, but then we had no time for anything el’e?’
‘Okay. That makes sense. A word of advice - your inflection doesn’t need to get higher at the end of every sentence.’
‘Hmm, do you mean like this.’
‘Well that was a question, so actually you could have done it then.’
Just as this lesson in pronunciation would have really taken off, a loud, deep, roar came from the cave mouth.
Everyone froze at the sound, something primal triggering them, making them fight the instinct to run. The best they could do were a few uncertain steps towards freedom. Gluk however was not fazed. It stood up, and roared something ear splitting in response.
At this exchange, another gigantic hand grabbed the cave mouth. An ogre’s head popped out with a very human look of confusion. At seeing a group of cute little people, the confusion turned to unabashed delight, and the ogre scurried - yes, something house sized can scurry - out of the cave, and sprinted over to meet everyone.
When something house sized is travelling faster than a horse, directly towards you, the urge to run is almost uncontrollable. Lucian decided that running would be pointless anyway, so just braced himself. What he hadn’t prepared for, was the spray of blood-craving stone spikes being kicked into his face - and the faces of his entire group - as the excited ogre skidded to a halt.
Half an hour later, after numerous excited apologies from the ogre known as Tuggok, and much of what the ogres called “mammal grooming rituals” to remove sharp stones, they found themselves sat around the fire-pit in the middle of the arena. The ogres had offered them a hearty meal as an apology, but were waiting for another ogre to return with its catch.
They had set out some cups large enough to crush any of the team - with the possible exception of Gar - but when they first tried to hand one to Lucian, realised their mistake. To demonstrate the impracticality of ogre sized crockery for human use, Lucian squeezed himself inside one of the cups. The team put the cups to good use regardless, turning them upside down to act as stools - protection from the sharp stones they would otherwise have had to sit on.
‘U’ually return’ just after midday. ’houldn’t be long now,’ Gluk said, getting the fire-pit lit.
‘Now that we have a bit of time to talk,’ Lucian said, trying not to touch his face and the multiple lacerations there, 'actually, we were wondering if you could help us in another way?’
Tuggok - who was nervously rubbing his hands together, trying to hold himself back from helping the adorable little people - knelt down far too close for Lucian’s comfort. ‘Oh yes, anything!’
The team covered their ears. Tuggok was still a bit too excited about the whole thing.
‘Before we get to that, boss, I have a question,’ Khleb said before anyone could remind him to think twice before speaking. ‘You two are... what? Married? Siblings?’
The two ogres looked at each other, and replied at the same time, ‘Both.’
The team made a variety of awkward faces and sounds. Khleb continued, ‘That’s a bit… well, I know a guy back in the capital like that. Incest Izan, we call him. Bit on the nose, I know, but I didn’t pick the name.’
‘You have a problem with our way’?’ Gluk challenged.
Lucian jumped
in before Khleb got them all cooked and added to the evening meal. ‘No! No, definitely not. The bond between siblings... is strong.’ Lucian aimed the next part very pointedly towards Khleb. ‘And it’s not in any way our place to judge. Right?’
A whip-crack boom thundered through the arena’s walls, deafening the group. They would have fallen to the floor, but the idea of falling onto the stones would have kept a corpse stood upright, so all they could do was cover their ears yet again.
The booming noise continued, and Lucian could feel it run through his entire body, every single bone dancing to the rhythm. Which was actually very painful and not at all whimsical.
After half a minute, the pain subsided along with the noise. Lucian could finally open his eyes, and saw that apparently these ogres understood humour. The group needed to practise not being funny, because another bout of ogre-laughter might kill them.
‘We are wicked. We are married, not 'ibling’, ' Gluk said.
Lucian could feel some of the cuts on his face had reopened. He was treading a fine line between being angry about this, and being respectful because he didn’t want to get eaten. He also reflected that throughout his life, this line had been walked far too often.
He checked his team, and they all seemed to be in a similar state. Jess looked ready to murder someone. Darrius was bemused by the entire situation, accepting everything that was happening in a haze of confusion, not knowing how to reconcile the stories of Ogres with his current situation. Gar seemed to have taken things badly as he rubbed his joints, presumably the vibrations inflaming them. The wolf seemed unaffected by the ogres and remained comfortably by their side. And Khleb… was Khleb.
‘Not siblings, gotcha,’ Khleb said. ‘So this third ogre...?’
‘Our child,’ Gluk confirmed.
‘Right, child. So... which of you’s the woman?’
