by M. C. Elam
“No one likes to be wrong all of the time, Hawk. I like to think the light comes from the sun. Maybe it comes through the crystals another way. I have no explanation. I just believe it.” He started across the cavern.
How many times had Evangeline walked away from him the same way, angry, disappointed, hurt? He hadn’t meant to insult Terill.
“Please, come back.”
“I am not stupid, Hawk.”
“I never meant to say you were.”
“You call my idea ridiculous. Yet, who first mentioned the sun as a source? I bring the teachings of my people to each experience.”
“The beauty of the crystals fades in the argument between us,” said Hawk his face gone gray, his expression remorseful.
“Aye, it does,” said Terill. He stopped and turned.
“I sat in council once with my father when he built a trade agreement with Glynmora. I was a boy of ten and dozed through most of what they said. In truth, I wanted to escape to my games and pretend wars, but I remember that forming the agreement hinged on the price of wheat. When the talk grew heated, my father stepped away from the council table. He and King Robert walked alone in the gardens for more than an hour. They signed the agreement soon after, and I asked my father how he talked King Robert into it.”
“What did he say?”
“He said He didn’t.”
Terill began to laugh. He extended his hand. “You should turn to writing parables, Hawk. The crystals glow once more.”
“What you think about them matters to me.”
“I think they are beautiful, and all too soon we will leave them behind. Cherish the light, brother, lest we lose our way again,” Terill said.
“Parables come easily to you as well.”
Hawk envied Terill’s optimism, his ability to accept the worst situation and never glower about it. Maybe the crystals did trap sunlight. What did it matter where the light originated? For once, he let go of his father’s logic and marveled at finding so much splendor hidden in the dark. After days of gloom, the bright-colored shifting patterns lightened his somber mood. Terill fell in beside him, and they quickened the pace toward the other side. The floor leveled out and spaces of solid rock began to appear interspersed among the glowing crystals. Before long, the light withdrew, replaced by an eerie greenish hue, and they walked on a dark surface.
Terill saw the opening first. “A good thing we waited to drink the restore potion. That opening is much like the one out of the spider cave.”
“Aye, another chance to be stuck in a wall.”
“Faith, Hawk. Others walked the path before us.”
“Somehow, I take no comfort knowing my father might have left his flesh on a chunk of stone.”
“Don’t lose your light mood, brother.” He waited outside the new crevice in the stone for Hawk to catch up with him. “I think we near the end, and…” He looked sideways at Hawk. “I am starving again, so you know we are bound to be in for some excitement.”
Hawk laughed aloud. “Lead off. I’m right behind you.”
Willing his body forward, Hawk inched through the narrow opening. Breathing made his chest expand and push harder against the unyielding rock. He imagined that the cold surface held a conscious force set upon crushing out his life. Every inch he gained threatened that force and made it more intent upon his destruction. If he could empty his lungs, the pressure might lessen. Progress meant a struggle for forward motion, and he fell into a torturous pattern, inhale, exhale, take a step.. He matched his pace to Terill’s until they cleared the crevice and stepped onto the cavern floor.
“It’s huge,” Hawk sighed. “I can’t even see the other side.”
“Nor I. What say you? Do we get started or rest and start fresh in the morning?”
“I say we keep moving now,” said Hawk.
Terill’s earlier prediction that they might be nearing the end of the quest had pleased Hawk, but faced with such an immense expanse, he grew doubtful. Besides more items remained in their packs, and he surmised, more items meant more obstacles. He set a brisk pace and started forward.
“Hawk, wait.”
He turned back to Terill.
“Drink this.” He held out a small vial.
Hawk took the bottle from him, started to lift it to his lips, and then stopped.
“Why don’t you drink? We can make better time,” said Terill.
“Aye, better time, but what about you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Before the action was instantaneous. We need to time drinking it down just right, or I’ll grow huge in comparison to you, and so will the vial because I hold it.”
“We had time to pass it before.”
“Aye, we did, but there’s no guarantee we will again,” said Hawk.
“You worry too much, brother. Give it back to me.” He held out his hand, took the vial, pulled the cork, and swallowed half the mixture. “There, you see? Now you,” he held out the vial. “Hawk?” Panic seized him. Hawk was gone. “Why the devil did you think such a thing?” He spoke to empty air. “To think something here, makes it so. Why couldn’t you just drink and hand me the vial?” he said. “I know you hear me. How could you not be? My voice must rumble like thunder. By the breath of Shadall, I fear moving. I might step on you and never know it.”
The only sound he heard was the echo of his own voice. He clutched the vial of restore potion and stood in the same spot until his legs ached.
“Hawk, the only thing I know to do is to put the vial on the ground.” He bent over, careful not to move his feet, and lay the vial on its side. It dripped a little of the potion into a puddle on the rock.
Nothing changed. Hawk did not appear, and the vial continued to drip the precious liquid onto the rock. Terill waited. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to clear his mind, and make another plan in case Hawk did not appear. Nothing came to him. His usual optimism shrank before a growing dread. Had they come so far, endured so much, to fail here?
“I’m sorry, Hawk.”
“Sorry for what, brother?”
A strong hand gave his shoulder a friendly shake, and Terill twisted around.
“You found the potion.” A wide grin replaced the bleak expression shrouding his features.
“I saw you put it down. Just took me a while to get to it.”
“Because you were small?”
“Aye, because of my size.”
“Hawk, I am sorry. You were right, we should have thought more about how to use it.”
“Nay, brother. Your choice worked well. Now, let’s be off. The cavern’s tremendous even at our normal size.” Hawk tried to forget about being hungry and thirsts. He set a brisk pace. Terill matched him stride for stride, glad for the open expanse that allowed plenty of room for them to travel abreast.
***
Forgetting about food worked for only so long. The steady pace left his mind free to wander, and despite a resolve to ignore his belly, Hawk began to imagine a banquet table during the harvest celebration back home in Ascalla. Heaping bowls of late summer squash dripping with butter, meat pies that oozed juice through the slits in their flaky crusts, a dozen loaves of fresh bread, warm from the oven, by the gods, he was hungry. He’d give a portion of his soul for a meal like that and a flagon of sweet wine to wash it all down.
“Smell that, Terill?” Hawk slowed his step.
“What?”
“Can’t you smell that, venison and fresh hearth bread?”
“Now that you mention it, yes, I smell something. But I think its goose not venison. I have a hunger for dark goose meat.”
“No, definitely, venison, and across the way the light is brighter,” said Hawk.
“A flicker to it, like a fire.”
“Aye, like a fire.”
They moved toward that firelight, drawn by the tantalizing aromas. The gentle upward slope of the cavern floor burned in their tired calves, and Terill pointed to jagged rock formations ahead. Soon the slo
pe changed from a mild incline to a tortuous angle that left them panting by the time they reached the crest. Hawk crouched behind a large boulder just short of the apex. His finger went to his lips, and he motioned Terill closer.
“Hear that,” he whispered.
“Chanting,” said Terill.
“Aye.”
“There’s a place ahead where I think we can look over without being seen.” Terill pointed to a cleft in the rock and then crawled along just below the top of the ridge. Hard going for bare knees, but he had grown accustomed to hard going here. He came to the place where the ridge took a little dip and inched his head over the top. He withdrew and sat back, his face ashen.
“What’s wrong? What did you see?” said Hawk.
“Look for yourself. We are lost now. We will never get past them.”
Hawk crawled to a spot beside Terill and looked over the edge toward the flickering fire. He counted thirteen in all, huge, thick-muscled creatures, with long torsos and short heavy legs.
“What are they?” said Terill.
“Ogres, I think,” Hawk whispered. “They keep to caves and don’t mix with humans unless in battle.”
“Are you sure? In our village, they tell stories about ogres. I never believed them real.”
“Look real enough to me, green skin and all.” He couldn’t help but stare.
“Aye, they do look greenish, despite the glow of the fire.”
“And hairy. By the gods, look at that one, ugly as wart hog?”
One of the ogres had turned toward them revealing short tusks that seemed to protrude from its upper jaw.
“The cavern narrows here,” said Terill. “There’s no way around them without being spotted. Look, your venison sizzles away on the spit.”
“And my mouth waters. What do you know of their kind?”
“Only tales,” said Terill. “Father never mentioned them in connection to the cave quest.”
“Maybe he didn’t see any here. Granny Stone, an old healing woman who took care of my mother, told stories about ogres. Only she called them pig men. She said they lived in caves.”
“That much makes sense then, since here they are.” Terill lifted his head over the ridge for a better view. “Look at that, would you. They’ve got a woman.”
Hawk followed his gaze. “Where?”
“Just the other side of the fire. She’s tied.”
“An ogre woman? He strained to see, but the smoke from the fire created a hazy barrier.
“No, human.”
The smoke cleared, and Hawk got a better look. “She’s human all right and stripped bare.” He stood up intent upon plunging over the ridge and straight into the ogre camp, but Terill’s quick action stopped him.
“No, Hawk! They’d kill you on sight, and then where would she be?”
Hawk settled back. Rage boiled in his chest, and his breath came in short gasps. He knew Terill was right. Attacking the way he planned might see one ogre fall, but taking on all of them was folly.
“What else did the old woman say?” asked Terill. “Cave dwellers and...”
“Aye, and they honor bravery.”
“Whose, Ogre bravery or any?”
“Any, I think. I don’t remember.”
“What else? I heard they eat human flesh.”
“Yes, a delicacy. They eat the flesh of fallen humans if they die bravely. I remember now. Not just humans, any they encounter, even other pig men. They think it makes them stronger.” Crouching low, he looked away from the young woman, and put his head in his hands. “Her face lacks hope.”
“Do you think they will eat her?” Terill shuddered.
“No, worse.”
Terill’s eyes widened. “What could be worse? Torture?”
“I think they want to breed her.”
“One of those ogres?”
“One or all,” said Hawk.
“That’s vile. It would kill her.”
“She might live. Granny Stone said pig men captured a woman from a small village near Falmora. She got away from them after a few years and found her way home. She brought a baby girl with her.”
“A pig baby?”
“Aye. Evangeline and I saw it, once when it was older. A bunch of street urchins had it cornered. We heard it crying and went to see what was wrong. The boys ran when we came. It did have greenish skin. By the gods, it was ugly, red rimmed eyes and a big flat nose with slits across the bridge just here.” He touched his own nose close to where the bridge met his forehead. Evangeline went closer, and it spit on her.”
“What did she do?”
“You’d have to know my Evangeline. Damnedest thing I ever saw. She sang a lullaby until it stopped wailing and smiled at her. That’s when I saw the little tusks. Stuck right out just here.” He pulled his upper lip high into a kind of snarl that revealed the gum line.
“Could have been dog teeth. You know how sometimes they poke through the wrong place.”
“I tried to reason it that way when I got older. Pig men in Falmora? But, they were tusks. Had growth rings for each year.”
“Did you see her again?”
“No, not long after the hut where they lived burned to the ground with both of them inside.”
Terill shifted position. His sandal twisted against the rock surface, and crunched a bit of grit under his heel. The sound echoed across the cavern and disappeared, lost in the rhythm of the ogres’ chanting.
“That woman,” said Hawk. “They want her for a breeder. I’m sure of it.”
“Think now. How can we free her? What can we use against them?” said Terill. He looked at Hawk and their eyes locked. A fearless kind of calm settled over both of them.
“Clumsy, they lose prey because of it. Slow in battle but they have tremendous strength and thrive on challenge. Matched one on one, the rest would wager on a winner.”
“So with a human, who wins?”
“Human’s quicker and smarter,” said Hawk.
“But who wins?”
“I don’t know.”
An abrupt silence ended the frantic rhythm.
“We haven’t long to figure it out, Hawk.” He clenched his teeth and nodded toward the camp.
The ring of ogres broke apart. The burliest of them loomed over the woman, grabbed a fist full of fiery red hair, and snapped her head back against her shoulders. Legs spread, it forced her body close, bellowed into her face, and looked toward the others grunting a challenge. A defiant power play mixed with lust burned across its ugly face. Assured of its own dominance, it turned toward the woman and slowly tasted the skin between her full breasts. In some disgusting kind of depravity, it bent its head closer and stroked her heaving chest, first with one tusk and then the other. Her violent trembling charged its filthy purpose. When she tried to turn away, it trapped her head and pulled it so far back her mouth opened. It bent over her upturned face and spat a wad of slimy green saliva into her mouth. Her strangled scream echoed across the cavern. Eyeing the rest of the ogre clan in case any chose to challenge his claim, the huge male forced her toward a large flat stone. He bellowed a final warning and bent her over the stone.
“Live or die, time’s up, brother.”
“No!” Terill made a grab for him, but failed.
Hawk bounded over the rock-ridge and plunged straight for the big ogre. Dagger unsheathed, he rushed into the circle of firelight. Terill leapt over the rocks and followed. Their footfalls slammed against the cavern floor; the sound drew the ogres’ attention. All but one turned to face them. A warrior’s cry sounded sharp and proud as Hawk dove on the big ogre. One arm encircled its thick neck; he clamped his legs around its mid-section. The surprised ogre let go of the woman and staggered backward, bucking and thrashing, but the dagger was already at work. Hawk hacked at its tough hide, chipping off chunks of green flesh wherever he brought the blade home. Green blood oozed from a dozen shallow wounds. The ogre clawed at the arm clamped around its neck, caught hold, and pulled it away. With on
e mighty heave, it jerked free and hurled Hawk against the cavern floor. Breath whooshed out of him. He struggled to rise, but the ogre planted a foot in the center of his chest and ground down hard.
Where was Terill? Hawk knew he had followed, but where in thunder did he go? The crushing pressure on his chest increased. He’d pass out in a minute, and then he remembered an old trick. He doubted it would work, but with choices so few, any attempt was better than nothing. He curled one leg high behind the ogres knee, took a firm hold of its foot grabbed the bulbous big toe and wrenched it sideways from the rest of the foot. The ogre roared in pain, lunged backwards, tripped, and fell. Hawk lay pinned with the ogre smack atop the leg that made it fall in the first place. At least he could breath, and the pig man did act a bit stunned. He swung his free leg high and slammed the heel of his boot into the ogre’s crotch. A furious roar told him he had hit home. The ogre rolled away, grabbed its aching member, and howled.
Hawk stood and whirled expecting the others to swarm him. His jaw dropped. No wonder he fought alone. Terill stood a few yards away. A rope of braided vines that ringed his neck tethered him to the waist of a heavy breasted female. She clapped an arm around his shoulders, pointed toward Hawk, and then fingered his light hair. He backed away, but the rope tightened around his throat. Her low cooing grunts left no doubt of her intent. Golden tokens glinted in the firelight, handed from one ogre to the other. So, Granny knew her ogres. Wagers complete, they did not wait long for the next round.
Intent on revenge, the big ogre lunged at Hawk. Quicker and more limber, he dodged attack after attack until he grew winded. The ogre bled from a dozen cuts, but its thick hair and hide prevented more than nuisance wounds. Hawk had made no fatal strike, and now with his strength waning, the ogre was gaining.
“I’ve killed us, brother.” Remorse for Terill rang in his voice, but an obstinate kind of pride filled his soul, and whether or not he uttered a reason that day, Hawk knew that some things were worth dying for.
Its face an angry mask, small round eyes glittering malevolent threats. Hawk waited. No more dodging, no more dagger jabs. The pig man advanced, its huge arms spread wide to grab him. A step away it stopped. Its breath came hard and hot, reeking of decay. Mucous bubbled around its nose slits and mingled with the putrid sweat running down its brow. Hawk stared full into its eyes and waited for it to make its move. He didn’t wait long. Its beefy arms wrapped around his upper torso and constricted, pulling him in, squeezing tighter and tighter, crushing his lungs. He felt a rib break and then another. Sharp pain jabbed his sides until he abandoned even the staggering little breaths he had managed. His body drifted through the fog to a place where pain died and blessed darkness lived. Tears blurred his vision and stained his cheeks.