Old Acquaintances
The next day, Og-Grim-Dog was invited back to the Throne Room. A third figure was with The Dark Lord and Lilith. All three brothers gasped as they recognised him.
‘Gurin Fuckaxe,’ Dog let out.
The dwarf fixed them with a grumpy stare.
‘What are you doing here?’ Dog asked.
‘Well, my options were somewhat limited when you had me arrested back in Mer Khazer. Remember?’
‘Oh, yes. Now you mention it.’
‘Anyway, I work for the Dark Lord now. I didn’t know you’d be here, but I guess it figures. The Bureau of Dungeoneering has seen fit to exclude your kind as well, after all.’
‘I didn’t know you two had met before,’ said Lilith. ‘It’s our policy not to reveal the identities of our henchmen. Is this going to be a problem?’
‘Not for us,’ said Dog.
Gurin shrugged. ‘We worked well together before, for the most part. Don’t see why we can’t again.’
‘Good,’ said the Dark Lord. ‘Because I’ve decided to entrust you both with my most important plan. Working together, you will infiltrate Pengshui, the capital of the Kuthenian Empire. There, you will abduct the Emperor’s daughter, Borte, from the palace and bring her—unharmed—here.’
‘I have organised for you to meet with two more of our operatives,’ said Lilith, ‘who will take part in the assignment with you. They will be waiting for you a week from now, at a pre-agreed location. If they don’t make it there, proceed without them.’
‘I suppose you’re not going to tell us who in Gehenna they are?’ asked Gurin.
‘Correct. If they’re there, you’ll know them.’
‘And who’s in charge of this little trip?’ pursued the dwarf.
Lilith shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll work that out amongst yourselves. All henchmen are of equal rank in the Dark Lord’s chain of command.’
The Dark Lord nodded gravely at this. ‘I cannot stress enough how important this mission is to me. Succeed, and you will be bringing the Dark Lady to Fell Towers.’
Grim stole a glance at Lilith, wondering what she made of her leader using such a title for someone else. Her dark eyes gazed back, revealing nothing.
Gurin and Og-Grim-Dog left by the same road they had used when they had first arrived at Fell Towers. They were loaded up with provisions, which went some way to make up for exchanging the comfort of Fell Towers for the biting wind and driving rain of the Great Outside.
Still, there weren’t many creatures abroad in Gal’azu tougher than the dwarf and the ogre, and they made stubborn progress, regardless of the weather. There was little talk. There was an awkwardness between them after the events of Mer Khazer. The fact that the wind soon stole away one’s words was a fine excuse not to bother speaking, and after a day’s travel in such conditions, they were ready for sleep.
Several days passed like this until one evening, with a fire going in the shelter of a cave, they spoke at last.
‘Raya wrote us,’ said Og, warming his hand by the fire. ‘Said there was another dwarf in Mer Khazer, who rescued you.’
‘Aye. Maurin was in Mer Khazer, recently come back from a dungeon crawl of his own. He sprung us from Hassletoff’s cell.’
‘Then what?’ Dog asked.
‘What do you mean, then what? Then nothing.’
‘Wondered how you ended up working for the Dark Lord.’
‘Humph. Could ask you the same question.’
‘It was made clear we weren’t welcome in Mer Khazer,’ said Grim. ‘We went back to our dungeon for a while. But I’d been given a taste of something more after our time with the Bureau. I persuaded my brothers to leave.’
‘You fancied the life of a hero, eh? How did that work out for you?’ Gurin asked, not hiding the bitterness from his voice.
‘We ended up in the Swamp.’
The dwarf laughed at that—a surprising sound, but a welcome one.
‘And from there, to Fell Towers,’ Grim added, leaving out the role of Brother Kane.
‘They sent us into Varena,’ said Dog, taking up the story. ‘Eliminating any threats to the Dark Lord.’
Dog said it with a note of pride, but Grim didn’t need to look at his other brother to know there would be shame on his face.
‘Aye. Been doing similar work as you, down in the south,’ said Gurin quietly. ‘From heroes to villains, eh? Not a comfortable step to take.’
‘Surely you had other options,’ said Og. It was part statement, part question.
‘Of course I did. I could have left Gal’azu. There’s always work to be had in the mines of the Ferric Hills. But this old dwarf is too stuck in his ways. Too used to his independence and too fond of swinging his axe. I don’t pretend there was any honour in the choice I made.’
‘And what did the Dark Lord demand of you to test your loyalty?’ asked Og.
‘That’s between me and him, don’t you think?’ asked Gurin. ‘I don’t reveal the identities of other henchmen and I don’t ask them the price they paid.’ The dwarf pulled his blanket about him. ‘No doubt you think it strange that I stick to these rules when I’ve broken every other principle I ever held. But there it is.’
Gurin was ever one for taking the lead, and Og-Grim-Dog was content to allow the dwarf to decide on the route. It therefore came as something of a surprise when he announced that they were closing in on the meeting point.
‘Dorwich City,’ he said, pointing to the outline of a large settlement that was almost obscured by the sheets of rain that continued to pelt them mercilessly.
‘Hmm, that name sounds familiar,’ said Dog.
‘We were chased by the reeve of Dorwich City and his posse,’ Grim reminded him. ‘A man by the name of Deston. We fought them outside Mer Khazer.’
‘I don’t recall a fight outside Mer Khazer,’ claimed Og.
‘Well, it happened,’ said Grim impatiently. ‘Only last year.’
‘There’s not going to be trouble, is there?’ Gurin asked. ‘They tend to take law and order quite seriously in Dorwich.’
‘Not sure,’ Grim admitted. ‘When we parted, the reeve indicated that we had an understanding. That said, he did have Og’s pike at his throat at the time.’
Gurin sighed. ‘That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence. But there’s little point in trying to sneak around the city with a three-headed ogre in tow. We’ll just have to see what kind of reception we get.’
Dorwich had substantial city walls. It told Grim two things. First, the city was able to defend itself. Second, there were things inside that were worth defending. Rising above the walls was the spire of the cathedral. No doubt some of the things worth defending were in there.
The guards at the city gates all made the same kind of face as the dwarf and the ogre joined the queue for entry into Dorwich. It was an expression that said they weren’t sure what was about to happen, but they understood that the odds of it being a good thing were low.
‘You might as well just wait to one side,’ one of the older guards hollered at them. ‘We’re going to need someone with authority to have their say before we let you in.’
It was a reasonable enough request, and the two henchmen waited patiently as the human visitors to the city were waved through.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Grim at last. He instantly recognised the figure of Deston, the reeve of the city, who had arrived on the scene. He recognised the muscular frame, the aura of confidence that comes from other men doing exactly what you tell them to do. ‘Crunch time.’
Deston spoke briefly with his guards and then approached. He smiled at them both.
‘We meet again, ogre. And this time you have a dwarf for a companion. Rather unusual visitors, even for a cosmopolitan place such as this.’
‘We’re just passing through,’ Gurin commented.
‘Indeed. I have been told to expect your arrival. You are welcome in Dorwich. Though please make sure that just passing through is all you
end up doing.’
‘Will do,’ said Grim.
Deston waved at his guards and they stood aside to let the pair through.
‘You may want to visit The Cracked Nuts while you’re here,’ the reeve called after them. ‘Down by the river.’
‘The Cracked Nuts,’ Gurin repeated. ‘Got it.’
They made their way into Dorwich with urgency, as if they didn’t trust the reeve not to change his mind. Stares met them as they walked past, but Og-Grim-Dog was used to worse than that.
‘I’ve been told to expect your arrival, he said,’ Grim muttered. ‘Does that mean Deston is working for the Dark Lord, too?’
‘Who knows?’ said Gurin. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘Is anyone not working for the Dark Lord?’ Og wondered rhetorically.
Finding the river was easy enough. It was busy, the city’s position on the waterway tempting traders to come with wares from all over Gal’azu. There were docks for loading and unloading, all busy with men carrying items that had just been bought or were being delivered for sale. Elsewhere, manufactories churned out textiles and other goods in huge numbers, that could be packed onto barges and sold for profit. They walked past a branch of Discount Dungeon Supplies, that appeared to be doing a brisk trade amongst foreigners and citizens alike.
With all this industry and so many people working in such a small space, it was no surprise that several inns were able to flourish with a riverside location. Gurin and Og-Grim-Dog marched along the riverbank until they found the one they were after.
The Cracked Nuts was quiet and nearly empty, but it looked like the kind of place that would get very busy in the evening.
They made their way to the bar, looking around for the signs of a familiar face.
‘It would be a lot easier if we knew who we were looking for,’ Gurin complained.
Grim noticed the man at the bar looking at them with an alarmed expression. ‘We don’t want no trouble here,’ he said.
‘It’s alright,’ came a voice from behind them. ‘They’re with me.’
Og-Grim-Dog and Gurin turned around at the same time.
Four mouths dropped open.
‘Assata?’
East
Og-Grim-Dog had never had the luxury of three pillows before. It really was quite something, and they each agreed that they had woken more rested than they could remember.
They were travelling downriver on a barge transporting textiles. The cargo on board meant that there was a selection of comfortable items upon which they could rest their heads, and they had taken full advantage.
With them were Gurin, Assata and Simba. Assata and Simba had arrived in Dorwich City together, with instructions to wait for the dwarf and the ogre. Wasting no time, they had booked passage for the group on the barge. They had left the city the day after Og-Grim-Dog and Gurin had arrived.
It was a surprise, to Grim, to find Assata working for the Dark Lord. Much more so than Gurin. Thinking back, he remembered Simba telling them that he had made contact with the Barbarian Resistance in Mer Khazer. Maybe if he had recalled that comment, he would have been less surprised to see Assata in Simba’s company.
It was a decidedly pleasant experience for Grim, watching the world go by from the comfort of the boat. No need to move his tired legs anymore; no marching through a rainstorm. When the weather was bad, they simply huddled under a bolt of cloth. When it was clear, he could gaze out at the countryside on each bank, or follow the activities of the birds and other animals who lived on the river.
Since they were heading downstream, the boatmen who manned the craft were having an easy time of things, too. The Auster was wide and strong at this point in its course, and often they had little to do themselves. When the wind blew against them severely, they would prod long poles into the riverbed and push the barge along. For the most part, the crew seemed to be seasoned travellers who had seen their share of oddities over their years of roving. Only a few continued to gawp at the three-headed ogre, and the white-haired dark elf.
Og-Grim-Dog’s companions appeared to share the same sense of calm, at least on the surface. Grim couldn’t say for sure what Gurin and Assata told themselves about their association with the Dark Lord. Then, there was the question of their assignment once they got to Kuthenia. Surely there couldn’t be many tasks more dangerous than abducting a child of the most powerful ruler in all of Gal’azu. But no-one seemed anxious to discuss the task. No-one seemed particularly eager to talk at all, and Grim didn’t mind that one bit.
It was therefore some days before Og-Grim-Dog found themselves alone with Assata and engaged in a proper conversation. She told them about her latest dungeon crawl, with Sandon, Raya, Brother Kane and a couple of new recruits. It sounded like little had changed at the Bureau, and that the takings from the dungeons remained meagre. Still, Grim couldn’t stop a pang of envy from appearing, that his friends went on their adventure without him.
Assata then listened with a keen interest when they described Fell Towers to her. Grim told her about the oversized gates, the dark granite buildings and the thin towers rising up to the sky. He explained who the menials were and what they did. Og told her about his impressions of the Dark Lord; about his pet, Evie, and his brother, Fraser, both kept in the basement. He mentioned Lilith’s role in the organisation. Finally, Dog spent a not inconsiderable time exhaustively listing all the food items available in the refectory.
‘How did Simba convince you to serve the Dark Lord?’ Og finally asked.
Assata looked about them for prying ears before she answered.
‘Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t serve the Dark Lord. I’m working for the Resistance. I’m doing this for all my people still held in bondage in the Empire.’
‘How will this help them?’
‘If we succeed in—’ she paused, looking about them again. ‘If we succeed in our mission, the repercussions for the Kuthenian Empire could be severe. A war with the Dark Lord, even. At the least, the weakening of the monarchy and the ruling class. The more instability and unrest, the more chance for the Resistance to lead a rebellion. There are enough slaves in the Empire to rise up and slit the throats of their masters. We could destroy Kuthenia from within.’
Grim thought about it. You could do the Dark Lord’s work for him.
They travelled down the Auster until it swung south on its way to the coast. The bargemen would follow the river all the way to the great port of Avolo, where they could sell their cargo for an easy profit. For the Dark Lord’s henchmen, however, their route lay east. To Pengshui, capital of the Empire.
A large town by the name of Linby had grown up at this point in the river. Dropped at the wharf, the three henchmen and the barbarian investigated their options for heading east. Their two concerns were transporting someone of Og-Grim-Dog’s size, and drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. Money was not an issue, since the Dark Lord had provided them with ample expenses to get his assignment done.
In the end, all of them agreed that their best option was to buy a cart pulled by horses. Assata and Gurin went off to select the best one: she to check on the health of the animals, while Gurin was keen to haggle over the price. That left Og-Grim-Dog and Simba to tour the stalls, restocking their provisions. Because of its location, Linby had an enticing mix of cuisine from west, east and south, and Og-Grim-Dog were in their element. The smell of spiced meat led them to a side street, where they discovered another branch of Sheev’s.
‘Seem to be spreading everywhere, don’t they?’ Og noted.
‘No surprise, I suppose,’ said Grim. ‘What’s not to like?’
Dog slavered in agreement, but Og had his thinking face on.
‘Should we buy some for our journey?’ asked Simba.
‘Does a bugbear shit in the woods?’ asked Dog.
When they were done and had located the others, the dwarf and barbarian had already made their choice, parted with their money and were ready to
go. Gurin declared himself to be the least conspicuous of the group and argued that he should take the reins. Since this meant they got to sit in relative comfort inside the coach, no-one else was minded to quarrel with him.
A decent looking road led out of Linby and with little trouble they found themselves heading east.
The decent looking road didn’t last for very long. Despite the fact that this was a key route between the west and east of Gal’azu, it passed through a land claimed by many, but in practice, ruled by none. The absence of a ruler or body politic of any kind meant there was no-one to maintain the road. Combined with the fact that they were travelling in winter, the road soon deteriorated into a churned, muddy mess.
It was Og-Grim-Dog who suffered the most from the poor state of the highway. First, every time the wheels of the cart got stuck, the ogre had to get out and push it free. Second, it was decided that one of the reasons the cart kept getting stuck was because they were in it. The solution, of course, was for the ogre to get out and walk.
Grim, therefore, would watch the cart trundle off into the distance, while he had to walk through the mud and puddles. Occasionally, he would catch back up with it—Og and Dog would free it from the mire once more—then they’d watch it disappear into the distance again.
This was the way in which the group approached the border of the Kuthenian Empire. As they drew closer and closer, so they began to discuss what their strategy should be once they passed into enemy territory.
‘If barbarians are slaves in the Empire,’ Gurin mused as he prodded at the night fire they sat about with a stick, ‘we could pretend to be slavers, or some such, bringing Assata for sale.’
‘Ha!’ Simba enthused. ‘We could march straight to the capital!’
‘So, we’re slavers,’ said Og, examining the idea, ‘who have come all the way to Kuthenia, with only one slave.’
‘Maybe she escaped, and we’re bounty hunters,’ said the dwarf, amending his plan. He looked around at his campmates. No-one except the dark elf looked impressed. ‘Alright, I’m just thinking out loud here, no need to look like I just broke wind at your mother’s funeral.’
Og-Grim-Dog and the Dark Lord Page 5
