In the Company of Ogres

Twenty-five

A grim foreboding told Ned he’d made a mistake stepping out of his office. He expected the entire building to collapse on his head. He expected the floor to open wide and swallow him whole. He expected Death herself to be standing there, cradling his tombstone in her pointed, red fingers. But there were only the two posted guards.

One of the guards asked, “Is everything all right, sir?”

The foreboding left Ned. He had no reason to be nervous. The universe wasn’t out to get him, and why should it be? His death was its death. If anything, the forces of fate must certainly have been doing their best to keep him alive. Ned didn’t place much faith in higher powers. Gods were unreliable. Destiny was a hope found in the hearts of desperate men. But sometimes, if they believed strongly enough, desperate men could do great things. Ned was desperate. Desperate enough to believe someone somewhere was watching over him. He had no other hope to cling to.

“I’ll be taking a brief constitutional,” said Ned.

“Should we accompany you, sir?” asked the guard.

He dismissed it as unnecessary. All his deaths at Copper Citadel had been accidents, all preventable with some caution and a bit of common sense. He didn’t see the need for a personal guard.

“No, stay here. I should be back soon.”

Ned ambled carefully down the hall. Along the way he tapped the floor ahead of him with his staff, like a blind man feeling his way. By the time he reached the door leading outside he was more confident. Each step felt like a success; each second he lived was now nothing short of a miracle. He reached for the handle but paused. Maybe it would be better to call it a day. He could always try going outside tomorrow.

He glanced back at the guards. Both averted their eyes to look elsewhere, but they’d been watching him. He couldn’t just turn around now without looking like some kind of idiot.

“Just a couple of minutes couldn’t hurt,” he mumbled as he turned the doorknob and stepped outside. His gaze met the cruel, black eyes of Nibbly Ned perched on Ward’s shoulder. The vulture emitted a scratchy, rasping screech and spread his wings. Ned’s sense of dread returned.

Ward saluted but Ned hardly noticed, so intent was his stare locked on Nibbly’s. “Hello, sir. Good to see you about.”

Ned swallowed his fear and mumbled something even he didn’t understand.

“Are you feeling well, sir?” inquired Ward. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Ned broke his stare, and Nibbly folded his wings, snapped his beak, and shifted on Ward’s shoulder. Judging from its fresh red scars, the bird had trouble finding a spot it enjoyed for long.

“Glad to hear it, sir. Frankly I was getting a bit worried. And Nibbly here has been as well. Hardly eaten a thing the last few days. Isn’t that right, Nibbly?” He reached up to pet the vulture, only to have Nibbly’s sharp beak clamp onto his fingers. The ogre chuckled amicably as he wrestled to free the digits. “See there? He’s already back to his old playful self.”

As Nibbly tugged, the vulture’s eyes never strayed from Ned’s. Ward’s fingers were not the buzzard’s meal of choice, Ned realized.

Ward saluted again. “If you’ll excuse me, sir…”

“You’re excused,” said Ned. Just as long as the ogre took that damn buzzard with him. But as Ward walked away, Nibbly jumped from Ward’s shoulders and flew to a perch atop a high rooftop. He glared down with unblinking focus on Ned.

“Not to worry, sir,” said Ward. “He likes to be where he can see everything. It’s funny though. He usually perches on the northwest comer.”

The perfect spot, mused Ned, to stare into his office. Several times in his sanctuary he’d sensed the cold shiver of death stalking him. Now he saw it in this bird, this ugly caricature of a harbinger so obvious, so unimaginative, that he refused to take it seriously. But if Nibbly ever got close enough, Ned decided he’d brain the gods-damned bird with his speaking staff, if for no other reason than to get some use out of the worthless stick.

Ned toured Copper Citadel quickly. All about, soldiers were engaged in various training exercises. The main courtyard was divided into smaller classes. Surprisingly, Ogre Company seemed to be enjoying themselves. Not everyone of course. Ned caught a fair number of irritated glances, but the majority seemed not to mind the work, and a noteworthy percentage were going about their training with zeal. He guessed that once they’d accepted the idea, the soldiers were glad to have something to do other than sit around all day and drink.

Now they had games to play while they drank.

The soldiers had applied their creativity to combine the imbibing of drink and the art of war. In wrestling class, pinning your opponent won you a drink. Apparently so did getting pinned — though it earned you a smaller mug. A table was set to one side with six hearty mugs of ale, and whoever finished a lap around the citadel fastest got first choice. Any soldier finishing seventh or later had to go dry until his faster comrades, dulled by drink, slowed down a bit. Climb a rope while someone poured out a drink, and you could have whatever was left when you reached the top. Smack someone with a training club; have a drink of various stouts and ales in various servings depending on just where you hit your opponent. Pitch a spear into a straw dummy; have a drink. Shoot an arrow into a target; have a drink. One hundred push-ups; have a drink. The unorthodox approach appeared to be working, and while many soldiers were a bit unsteady on their feet, particularly the humans and elves by nature of size and delicate livers, Ned guessed an army that could fight drunk just might be a force to be reckoned with.

A large hand fell upon Ned’s shoulder. “There you are, sir. Finally out of your office, I see.”

Ned managed to wrench himself free of Ralph’s tight grip. “Yes, private.”

The ogre squinted and wobbled in place. He must have been training a little too enthusiastically this morning. His breath reeked of dozens of different alcohols, mixing into an unholy stench that nearly melted Ned’s speaking staff.

“I’ve been looking for you, sir.” Grinning, nostrils flaring, Ralph poked Ned in the chest with a finger. Ned nearly toppled over save for a quick brace from his staff. “I’ve wanted to speak with you.”

Regina, walking by with an armload of javelins, stopped suddenly. “Ned, you’re outside.”

People had noticed his absence. He felt validated in some manner. And maybe the speaking staff had been right. Regina did seem pleased to see him, but that only made him nervous. He couldn’t imagine what she might see in him, but he wasn’t in a position to pursue romantic complications. He had enough trouble understanding normal women. An Amazon could only be more vexing, particularly since she could easily kick his ass if the mood struck her. He fumbled for a reason to leave her presence.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Archmajor, but Private Ralph here wanted a word with me.”

Ralph belched. “That’s all right, sir. It’ll keep.” He stumbled away, swaying slightly.

Ned and Regina stood there quietly for an awkward moment that stretched into an uncomfortable half minute.

“Training is going well, I see,” said Ned.

“Yes, sir.”

He rocked on his heels. “So, uh, javelins, huh?”

“Yes, sir. I just finished practice. Taking them back to the armory.”

“Oh.”

Ned had never noticed how attractive she was. He’d noticed she was pretty, but she wasn’t exactly his type. She was too tall, but in Ogre Company being under seven feet could almost be considered petite. And she was more striking, less cute, than he preferred. This quality was lessened again by the surrounding personnel. Anyone with all their teeth and not covered in shaggy hair had a lot going for them.

“Armory, huh?”

Regina nodded, frowning. “Yes, sir.”

“Training is going well.”

“You already said that.” Her frown deepened to a scowl.

“Yeah, uh… so who thought of the drinking games?”

“I don’t recall.”

It was, in fact, Miriam’s idea. Loath as Regina was to admit it, Miriam was actually a good morale officer, but Regina wasn’t about to say that aloud.

“I don’t want to keep you, Archmajor,” said Ned.

Regina sighed. “No, sir, I suppose you don’t.”

He turned to leave.

“Have I done something to offend you, sir?” she asked.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I was just wondering if I’ve done anything to put you off.”

“No. Why?”

She laid aside the javelins. All those rules Ulga had laid down about the art of seduction passed quickly through her mind, and were just as quickly discarded. She had had enough of this bizarre game. Subtlety wasn’t an Amazon’s way, and it certainly wasn’t in her nature. She refused to play it any longer.

“Do you find me attractive?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, you’re very pretty.”

“Then you like me?”

Ned shrugged. “I dunno.”

She stalked forward, hands clenched in fists, fists on hips. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Well…” He shrugged again. “It’s just that I don’t really know you very well.”

Regina’s face twisted into a grimace. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He was tired of shrugging so Ned rocked the staff back and forth. “I dunno.”

Though only a few inches taller, she towered over him. He slouched under her icy stare.

“What’s wrong with you?” Her voice raised, and nearby soldiers turned their heads. “You don’t care about knowing me. All you care about is having your way with me. I’m naked flesh. I’m a serving wench, a cook, a nursemaid to your fragile ego. I’m an incubator for your worthless seed. But I am not a person.”

“You’re not?” He almost apologized, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.

“I’m better than a person. I’m a woman. But you’re a man, and you’re not supposed to give a damn about that.”

“I’m not?”

“So what’s wrong with me?”

“I dunno.”

She literally growled. He expected her to knock him out with a single right cross, but she snorted and stared him down.

“You’re just a little…”—he didn’t want to finish the sentence, but her intimidating presence overwhelmed his good sense—“… manly.”

She didn’t raise her arms, but he still flinched. To his surprise the Amazon suddenly calmed. Her face fell blank.

“I suppose you need a woman weaker than you then.”

“No. It’s not your strength. That’s admirable, and I’m pretty used to everyone being stronger than me. It’s just — I guess I haven’t really thought about it — you’re a little rough. It can be scary.”

Regina smiled suddenly. The expression seemed forced, and even someone as wholly unobservant as Ned could see the fury seething just beneath her surface. But there was always a little bit of quiet rage boiling in the Amazon.

“Ned, may I call you Ned?”

He nodded.

“Would you like to have sex with me?” She spoke the sentence slowly, as if speaking to a child. A dull-witted child at that.

He froze. The answer was obvious, but he sensed the wrong response could have terrible consequences.

Her forced smile widened, and she took his hand in hers. She stepped closer. He couldn’t look her in the face. His gaze fell across her slender neck, pausing on her ample chest, sliding to her shoulder. Her creamy, kissable shoulder.

She whispered in his ear. “I don’t know why, Ned, but I desire you. Honestly I don’t think I even like you. You’re not a bad sort, but you aren’t truly worthy of what I offer. But that doesn’t matter. None of that. What matters, Ned, is that I’m offering you my body, my tender, untouched by any man, Amazon flesh. Do you want it?”

Ned gulped. There was barely an inch between them. Her heat washed over him. Drops of sweat beaded on his face and neck.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Yes?” he replied.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She planted her hands on his chest, and he thought for a moment that she was about to have her way with him right there, right now, in front of all these leering soldiers. She shoved him away. Caught off balance, he fell on his back. Regina’s sword flashed from its scabbard. She adopted an offensive stance.

“Defend yourself!”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Defend yourself, Ned!”

He scrambled to his feet. “What?”

She swung the blade in a blur. His cheek stung. A trickle of blood leaked from a shallow cut. Before he could protest, she kicked him in the knee and then swept his legs out from under him so that he was back on the ground. She raised her sword to drive it through his heart.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” He curled into a ball, holding out one hand in surrender. “What are you doing?”

She lowered her weapon. “I am an Amazon warrior, Ned. And there are certain rules I must follow. My code allows me to take a lover only if he can best me in a fight. Only then can he prove himself worthy of me.”

“But I can’t fight you.”

“Apparently.” She helped him to stand. “No man is my equal. But that is why you’re perfect for me. You’re immortal. No matter how many times I slay you, you can always try again. Eventually you should win. With a great deal of luck.” She raised her sword again. “Now then, defend yourself!”

“Wait, you don’t—”

She kicked him in the gut. He fell to his knees, huffing for breath, unable to explain anything.

“Better luck next time, Ned.”

Disappointment etched Regina’s face as she swung the blade to split open his skull. Steel clanged against steel. Ned’s head remained whole.

Miriam stood between Regina and Ned. She’d parried the deathblow, and now the two women stood across from each other, swords in tightened fists.

The siren nodded to Ned. “Commander.” Her large, black eyes narrowed to the tiniest slits and focused on Regina. “Archmajor.”

Now every soldier in the courtyard had forgotten their training and their drinking. They crowded around, leering, grinning. Mock meows and hisses rose from the audience.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Archmajor?” asked Miriam through gritted teeth.

“Stay out of this, Miriam,” replied Regina coldly. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“You were about to kill our commanding officer. I think that concerns everyone here.”

Ned felt he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what to say. As commander, he still tried. “It’s okay. This is all just a misunderstanding.”

Regina glared at him. “I beg your pardon, Ned, but this situation was plain and simple until Miriam stepped in. I offered you my flesh, and you agreed to fight me for it.”

Miriam lowered her sword and frowned at him over her shoulder. “Is that true, Ned?”

Guilt inexplicably fell upon him, although he was positive he hadn’t done anything wrong. But the disappointment in Miriam’s eyes had that effect on him.

“No… I mean, sort of. I agreed to the sex, but I didn’t know I had to fight her.”

“What did you think?” said Regina. “That an Amazon would surrender herself to any man who asked?”

“I didn’t ask. You asked me.”

“Semantics.” Regina snorted. “Anyway, ignorance is no excuse. Now that you’ve expressed an interest in engaging me in carnal relations, you must fight me. It’s the only honorable course of action.” She raised her weapon and took a step forward. “Move aside, Miriam.”

Ned held out the speaking staff, hoping some leftover spark of magic might transform the fearsome Amazon into a bunny or woodchuck or bear or dragon. Something less dangerous so he might stand a chance — or more dangerous so he wouldn’t be so embarrassed being killed.

He didn’t understand why nobody was helping him. He was their commander. Someone should’ve stood in his defense, but the soldiers merely hooted and laughed at his plight. Only Frank, standing at the front of the crowd, was silent. All the color drained from his red face, leaving it a pale pinkish shade. The ogre looked sad and angry at the same time, although Ned couldn’t imagine what wrong he’d done to Frank.

“This is insubordination!” Ned shouted above the ruckus.

Regina stopped. “Actually it’s not. As long as an Amazon slays a fellow soldier, regardless of rank, according to the customs and policies of her culture, it is allowed according to the Cultural Acceptance Policy of the Legion.

“And according to Brute’s Legion’s official Code of Conduct, a violent act is only considered an act of willful insubordination when it subjects the target to irreparable harm. It’s like cutting off the arm of a troll. Unpleasant, yes, but since it’ll grow back, the most you usually get is a written reprimand. And since you’re immortal, killing you isn’t much worse than that.”

“But I’m not immortal,” said Ned.

The crowd fell silent. His secret was out — although it was only a little bit of the secret.

“Is this true?” asked Miriam.

He scanned the crowd. He glimpsed nothing but bloodlust in the faces. Except for Frank, pale and rigid and frowning.

“Why do you think I’ve been hiding in my office these last few days? Because every time I step outside, I die, and I can’t die again.”

The audience grumbled among themselves, and from the snatches of conversation Ned caught, not many believed him. And those who did, still didn’t care.

“It doesn’t make any difference,” said Regina. “You’ve stated your intention. Now you must live up to it.”

Ned considered running, but all around was a thick wall of soldiers. They might part for him. They might not. Either way he wouldn’t make it very far before Regina caught and killed him.

“If I die again,” he said, “I’ll destroy the universe.”

A hush fell on the courtyard. Soon guffaws filled the air. Copper Citadel rumbled with laughter. Only Ned, Regina, Miriam, and Frank remained silent.

“Really, Ned.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Now defend yourself, and let’s get this over with.”

This was going to be a stupid way to die. He’d died many times, and at least half had been stupid deaths. But this was also a stupid way to herald the end of the universe, and that bothered him greatly.

If he was going to perish (and he could see no way around it) he could at least put up a fight. He raised the speaking staff and hoped for a lightning bolt. It didn’t come.

Miriam interposed herself between Regina and Ned. “No. If you want him, you’ll have to take him.” She scraped a line in the cobblestones with her sword. “From me.”

“You have no right,” said Regina.

“I have every right. According to Amazon law he’s unclaimed, and if I want him too that means you have to beat me to take him.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s my job to know.”

“You can only fight for him if he agrees to be yours.”

Miriam asked, “Ned, will you—”

“Yes!” shouted Ned.

“Very well. I question the wisdom of facing me in personal combat, Miriam, and I doubt you’re worthy of the honor of dying by my blade. But if that’s the way you want it…” Regina swung a few practice strokes.

Miriam smiled coldly. “Are you going to fight or talk all day?”

The audience hooted and hollered as the ladies warily circled each other. The muscular Amazon was a head taller than Miriam, if one ignored the siren’s fins. Regina was a skilled combatant. Ned had seen enough to know that, but he hadn’t seen Miriam touch a sword up to now. But she was his only hope. His and the entire universe’s.

Regina lunged forward. Miriam parried the blow. Regina swung at Miriam’s throat. Miriam knocked aside the strike and sliced at Regina’s legs. The Amazon jumped back just in time, only to have her opponent rush in and stab for her gut. Regina blocked the sword, but wasn’t ready for the foot that stomped on her toes. She stifled a yelp, only to be elbowed in the face and flounder backward.

Blood oozed from Regina’s nose. She growled. Miriam winked, a wry grin across her thick lips. The audience murmured approval and surprise.

Regina wiped her nose. “That’s a cheap shot.”

Miriam chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was a fight. Not a fencing match.”

The soldiers howled with delight.

Enraged, Regina charged. A whirlwind of steel, she slashed at Miriam. The siren beat back each furious blow. A hole in Regina’s assault allowed Miriam to take the offense. Her strikes were batted aside with strength and finesse. And so it went, back and forth, for a frantic minute. Ned couldn’t keep track of the action. It was just so much metal clashing against metal, angry roars from Regina, eerie concentrated silence from Miriam. They circled and whirled, advanced and retreated. Finally an upward sword thrust nearly disemboweled Regina who leapt out of the way, but not before her blade sliced off the very tip of Miriam’s fin.

The women sucked in short, rapid breaths, neither wishing to appear weak.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” asked Regina.

“Just something I’ve always had a knack for.” Miriam tossed her sword into the air. It twirled three rotations before she caught it in her other hand. “Did I mention I’m ambidextrous?”

“So am I.” Regina plucked a long knife from a sheath on her belt. “Shall we continue, or do you wish to concede now?”

Miriam curtsied, drawing her own knife. “I’d sooner see you dead, ma’am.”

The warriors fell upon each other once more. This time though, there was a more cautious approach to their conflict as each took careful measure of her opponent, waiting for the right opportunity. It was still a rapid exchange, graceful in its skill and ugly in its rage. It led the combatants across the compound until the two women stood before the pub.

By now the audience had grown to include just about every soldier in Ogre Company. The soldiers in back couldn’t see much of the action, but Ned had a front-row seat. Whenever a good blow was struck, whether by Regina or Miriam, the crowd cheered.

So far neither had landed a solid strike, though both were covered with nicks, scrapes, and bruises. Ned was getting tired of just watching them. Their breath was ragged. Sweat covered Regina. Sirens didn’t sweat, but the sails atop Miriam’s head, which she used to cool down, were fully extended. They were tiring, but neither was ready to surrender.

“Hundred gold on Miriam,” said Martin.

“I’ll take that bet, Brother,” replied Lewis.

Ned really should’ve done something. He liked Regina. He liked Miriam. There had to be a way of ending this before someone died, and it was his job as commander to find a way. He still wasn’t used to giving orders, but it was worth a try.

Before he could order the women to stand down, Miriam and Regina, locked in a combative embrace, fell through the pub window with a crash. Soldiers rushed after them as quickly as the slim doorway allowed. The pub couldn’t hold all the soldiers, and the rest crowded around the windows eagerly. The clatter of battle continued inside.

Only Ned and Frank remained aside, not interested in fighting the crowd to get a better view.

“Destroy the universe, huh?” asked Frank.

“Yeah. It’s complicated.”

To Ned’s surprise, the ogre didn’t appear skeptical. “Why did you come out of your office then?”

“Got bored,” said Ned plainly. “Guess I should’ve just sent out for a checkerboard.”

“Guess so,” agreed Frank.

The soldiers at the pub’s second window, the unbroken one, parted suddenly as Regina and Miriam hurtled through it. They rolled around on the ground in broken glass with their hands around each other’s throats.

“This is getting ugly,” said Frank. “Somebody should stop it.”

“Somebody should,” agreed Ned, fully intending to step up to his position of authority. But Frank brushed him aside and strode to the swearing, bloodstained ladies. He seized each by one arm and pulled them apart.

“That’s enough.”

Unable to reach each other, the ladies turned their aggression on the ogre between them. They bit and clawed at him without much effect until Frank hoisted them in the air and shook them until their skulls rattled.

“I said that’s enough!”

The women stopped their wriggling and muttered and snarled instead.

“Now I’m going to set you down,” said Frank, “and you are both going to behave like civilized officers. Or so help me, I’ll break some bones in each of you. I won’t specify which because I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

He set them down. Miriam and Regina still grumbled, but neither made any advance on her rival. It was plain to see that they were both exhausted, and Frank’s threat had been the final smidge of motivation to give them pause. Ned wished he could be that assertive, but it didn’t seem to be in his nature. He wasn’t too hard on himself since Frank had all the motivational talents that came from being a very large ogre. And even a very large ogre was taking a chance standing between these two enraged warriors.

“She started it,” said Regina with a huff.

“Oh, shut up, ma’am,” replied Miriam.

“You shut up.”

“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.