Ogre's Passing

by Paul Melniczek

  "Step out slowly, or you'll be without the use of an eye -- that's a promise."

  There was no answer and the warriors held their breath, tension clutching everyone's heart at this new threat. Several long moments passed, and Sarion nodded at the intruder which slowly made its way out of the cover. All eyes watched in disbelief as a humanoid creature shuffled into view.

  Two pointed ears sat on top of a scaly head, mouth open slightly, revealing rows of sharp fangs. A forked tongue slithered between thin white lips, probing the air in agitation. The creature stood taller than even Rundin, lean and muscular, its chest covered with reptilian scales, wearing a short sash around the waist. The legs were leathery, mottled with gray hide, and a short tail twitched angrily. Its feet ended in sharp talons, just like the arms. To the last man, the warriors knew it to be a deadly creature.

  "What the blazes is this beast?" Forlern broke the silence, ready for any move by the thing, which now faced a number of arrows pointing at its head.

  "Well, Captain Grundel, Grammore gives up another little mystery here, it seems." Sarion's face was grim, and he refused to let down his guard.

  Grundel signaled two of the warriors forward, carrying coils of rope.

  "Hand over your weapons. Now." Sarion's gaze never wavered as he locked eyes with the creature. After a moment of hesitation it conceded, pulling out a strange looking knife from the pouch. It was long and thin, with two handles.

  "I wouldn't say you're fortunate, Captain, but this is a rare treat. Rare indeed, and one which I thought never to see again. You're looking at one of the craftiest dwellers of Grammore."

  The men bound the creature's arms and legs, wary of any movements, but it didn't fight their efforts.

  "It's a Glefin."

  ***

  Forlern let out a low whistle, while a few of the fighters tightened grips on their weapons. Grundel came forward, staring with great interest at the bound creature.

  "A Glefin," he purred. "So, this is what one looks like -- I've often wondered."

  "Extremely cunning, highly intelligent -- and, of course, dangerous." Sarion lowered his bow, still locked in a staring match with the creature, neither one willing to break first.

  "Can it speak?"

  "Definitely, if it so wishes. They have their own tongue, but know ours. There was a time in the past when they traded with trappers and frontiersmen, until they became hostile. I'll admit being surprised at seeing any still left. I thought they were all dead."

  "Indeed," answered Grundel. "Rundin, I want you in charge of watching the Glefin. Two men at all times will be guarding it, is that understood?"

  "Yes, Captain. It won't catch us sleeping."

  Rundin and Cerestin checked the ropes binding the creature, motioning for it to sit on the ground. Grundel took Sarion aside, conferring about what they would do with the captive.

  The captain whispered. "You say it can speak, but only willingly, of course. I am very interested to discover why it was trailing us, if that was its purpose, or could this be a chance meeting?"

  "I doubt it is any coincidence," replied Sarion. "These creatures always have a purpose in mind. Maybe it found our trail and was naturally curious. A group of armed men in Grammore is certainly uncommon, you know."

  "True enough, but my main concern is for our mission, and the safety of the men. It is an added burden to have it with us. We are tired enough without the need to guard a dangerous creature."

  "I know. The Glefin could lend us some valuable information, though. It would know of any disturbance here in the Lowlands, and even the reasons behind it, possibly. It may very well have the answers to what we are seeking."

  "Do you propose to entreaty it, then? Offer freedom, for giving us information?"

  Sarion looked back at the Glefin. "Unfortunately, I don't believe it will be that easy. There is no love lost between our races, and if anything, it will attempt to undermine our mission in some way. We can't trust its intentions, regardless."

  "All right. We'll take the creature with us, but at the first sign of trouble, it will be dealt with. I don't kill anything in cold blood, but if it gives me a reason..."

  His sentence drifted off, and Sarion nodded. He knew what the Glefins were capable of, having tracked them seven years ago, putting an end to their rampage. It hadn't been pleasant.

  Grundel walked among the warriors, giving orders, and seeing to preparations for the trek ahead. He spoke softly to Rundin especially, making sure the Glefin was properly secured and watched. Rundin would ride behind the creature, while Chertron, now horseless, would walk in back of it. Sarion thought it was a good idea to keep it in the lead, knowing that the creature would not foolishly endanger itself. He told Grundel that it might also give the Glefin a chance to communicate with them, if it believed they would let it go at some point. Grundel addressed the creature, telling it his offer. The Glefin stood attentively, but remained silent.

  They started off again, riding and walking forward in the gloomy forest. Sarion looked up, wondering if he would ever see the sun again, a lost friend in the forsaken Lowlands. The company saw no sign of the swamp as they now traveled in a region of increasingly dense woods. Sarion looked for tracks of predators, but saw nothing to catch his notice. He found himself constantly watching the Glefin for any reaction. As long as it seemed content, then Sarion believed they were in no immediate danger.

  The afternoon progressed without incident, and the land gradually sloped downhill, the trees strangling each other for space. The forest was quiet, and Sarion wondered as to the lack of noise. The air felt heavy, stifled somehow, and he kept his senses keyed for anything out of the ordinary.

  "What is it?" Grundel rode beside Sarion, noticing his apprehension.

  "I'm not sure," he answered, his voice a notch above a whisper. "The forest has grown silent, and it has me uncomfortable. The Glefin shows no sign of worry, though."

  "Could it be leading us into a trap?" The captain glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Forlern's own, the fighter never missing a beat.

  "I've considered it, but I don't think the Glefin would put itself in danger along with us. Perhaps it is thinking the same thing as I am."

  He pointed ahead, and for the first time, the Glefin appeared agitated. Its tail whipped back and forth, the reptilian head probing the trees in a slow, calculating stare. The green tongue flicked in the air, and the creature lifted its nostrils, sniffing for odors beyond the ability of humans to detect.

  "The Glefin tracks with eyes, ears, and scent, like many of the creatures in Grammore. That is one reason why men can't survive here long. Our senses are not finely tuned, instinctual. We're no match for the native predators."

  Grundel tapped his arm. "Ah, but that is where our intelligence and quicker wits come to play. Men have proven to be superior to the wild beasts in this manner."

  "There are numerous creatures in the Lowlands which possess great powers of reasoning as well. Those are the ones that really worry me. He pointed to their captive." Sarion rubbed the back of his horse, his eyes fixed on the Glefin.

  "True enough," replied Grundel.

  It became increasingly obvious that the creature was growing more uncomfortable in the minutes that followed. The Glefin crouched lower at times, flexing its talons as if testing the binding ropes. Sarion knew that if the Glefin could loosen the cords, it could easily tear through and free itself. They needed to be vigilant in case the creature was bold enough, or desperate enough, to try and escape.

  The terrain grew denser as they passed unknown species of trees, some with massive girth to their mossy barks, others tall and slender, the jungle canopy shrouding the ground below in perpetual twilight. Bright-green ferns and exotic flowering shrubs became more prevalent, replacing the more familiar foliage they could identify.

  Knowing the dangers of plant and beast alike facing them, Sarion keenly observed the Glefin as it walked with Chertron at its heal, a coil of rope attached to Rundin
's steed to prevent any mischief. Sarion watched several times as the creature purposefully steered clear of a particular type of plant, keeping a safe distance from the odd-looking petals. He commented to Grundel concerning this, and the captain nodded, taking mental note.

  They were descending into what appeared to be a huge depression, with the ground angling steadily downward, taking them into the deeper parts of Grammore. Although the day lacked noticeable changes in lighting, it was turning into early evening, and Sarion knew that Grundel would be making a crucial decision soon -- whether to abandon the expedition and return to their own lands, or change his mind and continue onwards. Sarion had little desire to test fate any longer in the Lowlands, after narrowly surviving numerous brushes against disaster. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that even if they managed to return unharmed, that little would have been accomplished. True, the group had discovered the creature responsible for perhaps some of the raids, the elusive ogre, but neither himself or Grundel believed the incident to be isolated. The scope of marauding clearly argued against it. They would come back to their lands feeling incomplete, faced with the knowledge that the true nature of evil remained hidden, lurking behind the impenetrable walls of Grammore.

  Did the answer lay before them now, he mused, in the form of the Glefin? The creature was cunning, and knew much. And Sarion was certain, that even if it didn't know the reason beneath Grammore's unrest, it was well aware of the disturbance, and much closer to the truth than they might imagine. Pondering these things, Sarion was ready to suggest a halt, when a distant rumbling sound echoed in the forest ahead. It was a faint rushing noise, as of something moving.

  After a few moments, Grundel and Chertron exchanged glances, but the captain merely gestured towards the Glefin, which seemed unconcerned with the new sound.

  "Water." Sarion spoke to Grundel in a tight whisper. "There's a river ahead of us, and from the sound of it, this could be an obstacle in our path."

  The captain peered ahead. "We shall see, then."

  The fighters rode onward, and Sarion felt the air becoming heavy with moisture, as lazy clouds of mist began to curl about the legs of the horses. The noise grew louder, changing into a muffled roaring, and the ground was rapidly sloping downward, most likely towards the source of water.

  "We have to be nearly on top of the river by now," said Grundel. He let out a low whistle, signaling added caution for Chertron ahead. The warrior inclined his head, checking his grip on the Glefin. The trees broke open in front of the company, and suddenly the leaders came to a halt.

  "Captain Grundel, you won't believe this, by the Three Serpents!"

  Chertron gestured back to the others, the churning water a ceaseless, low rumbling. Giving orders to secure their position, Grundel dismounted, handing the reins to Forlern. Sarion immediately jumped down from his own horse, following the captain's lead, while Forlern narrowed his eyes at their departure, appearing restless for action. But nothing could have prepared the men for the sight which lay below them, as they stood perched on a high ridge overlooking the source of the water.

  Hundreds of feet beneath them was an immense waterfall, a deluge of clear-blue water issuing forth from the living rock of a gargantuan cliff, the steep sides dotted with leaning trees and loose stones, angling sharply down into a huge lake, the shorelines nearly invisible in the fading light. The view was staggering -- the landscape before them an unheralded spectacle, a forbidden realm opening up its primeval arms as the gateway leading into the black heart of Grammore. It was both moving and frightening in the same breath, and they all felt the almost magical allure of the scene. And despite the magnificence of the vision at their feet, it paled before the horror of what they saw on the surface of the lake.

  Dark objects moved slowly along the water's rim, appearing and submerging at varying intervals. Splashes broke the stillness in numerous places, revealing the emergence of horn-crested snouts. Sarion's face became grim, his thoughts chilled by what he looked upon.

  The lake was teeming with a host of water monsters.

  ***

  The fighters stared in amazement and dismay, as if looking through a window and seeing an alien world on the other side. And to Sarion's eyes, Grammore was indeed such a place. Although he was a survivor of the disastrous journey into the Lowlands seven years ago it left the same impression now -- the region inspired awe and emitted an overwhelming sense of foreboding within its shrouded forests and vales, the territory imbibed with a sense of dread and dominance that defied understanding. Even the seasoned warriors could not shake the feeling of trepidation that slept beneath every rock and blade of grass in Grammore, the entire landscape waiting patiently to spring upon the unwary and consume them whole.

  "An unbelievable sight. Incredible…" Chertron mumbled, keeping the Glefin in front of him, careful not to step too close to the edge.

  A fairly steep drop opened before them, but it was not impassable. The rocky descent was broken up by scrub bushes and outcroppings, with certain areas offering shelter and easier footing. Grundel rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and Sarion knew he was torn by the decision to go back, or proceed further and risk even greater danger.

  "Look at the water beasts," said Chertron. "From here they appear small, but I think they could be enormous, some of them. Crossing that lake is impossible -- we wouldn't last beyond a few minutes before one of them would attack."

  "Without a doubt," replied Sarion. "They may well be even larger than the muck dweller that took Kalen. The deeper into the wilderness we go, the more common such beasts become, it appears -- larger, and more dangerous, as well."

  "It would take an army to clear a settlement of men here," answered Chertron, still shaking his head at the sight below.

  The Glefin made a barely audible snort, but Sarion heard the sound, taking it as a rebuke to Chertron's words. The others hadn't noticed, and Grundel remained silent. Tarral and Areck fanned out to either side, making sure they were adequately protected against any surprise attack. Cerestin and Forlern waited in the rear, and Grundel whistled a signal to make camp, choosing not to speak any further for the moment.

  The sky was dark overhead, and stars were visible above the mist, which lessened above the vast lake. Sarion looked upon the waters and valley at his feet, admiring the pristine beauty and wonderment of the Lowlands. Grammore was a marvel to behold, encompassing such opposing qualities in the same breath, of unparalleled sights and wonders accompanied by lurking, treacherous creatures. It was a paradoxical existence, unlike any other region of the known world.

  The men settled for the night, not daring to light any fires which would reveal their presence, and Grundel sat with Sarion in conference. The Glefin was tied fast to a tree within hearing distance of the two, a suggestion Sarion had made to the captain earlier. It was his belief that the creature might break its silence if the opportunity arose.

  "So, Captain. It is decision time. Have you made up your mind yet?"

  Grundel sat with arms folded, unusually quiet since reaching the lake. "No, but I will before the night ends. All hopes of finding our quarry seem fruitless at the moment. The trail is lost, we have no knowledge if it managed to survive the swamp, and a seemingly impenetrable obstacle lays before us. What other recourse do we have?"

  "It would seem little, yet you hesitate. I echo your reservation, Captain." Sarion matched Grundel's gaze as he shifted his head, probing the meaning behind the spoken words.

  "Oh, in what way?"

  "We have identified one part behind the raids, certainly not all of them, for that matter. The ogre didn't just decide to go randomly on the hunt, so far past its own lands, knowing that our people would pursue and slay it without hesitation. If we go back now, what will King Gregor make of our excursion? It seems that for every answer that is uncovered, deeper questions emerge. Despite all this, I have no steadfast advice on the next course we take."

  "You have proven to be a man of great resourcefulness and wisdom, my
friend." Grundel's face twisted into a smirk. "The army was reduced when you went on to other pursuits. It is no great mystery as to how you entered Grammore before, and were the only one to return intact."

  Sarion glanced over at the Glefin, tilting his head ever so slightly.

  The creatures eyes were glistening, as it listened with interest to their conversation. Sarion knew these creatures well enough from past experience -- he was sure that the Glefin understood their motives in keeping it near their discussion. Schemes and deadly games we play, he thought…His mind drifted back to the rolling hills of his farm, where Edward would be working with Jergen and the others to till the fields. The boy would miss him sorely, but that couldn't be helped. Edward showed much promise -- just like his father. Sarion winced at the memory, and looked over at Grundel as he spoke again.

  "It seems as if we've been in this forsaken land for months, doesn't it?" Grundel yawned, fingering the knife at his belt. "And it's only been days, very long, and sorrowful days." His voice trailed off wearily, and Sarion felt the weariness leak into his bones.

  "I guess I'll share the late watch, maybe the sun will rise tomorrow and show her face. I expect surprises and danger at every turn in this land, but I'll admit, nothing prepared me for the sight of this lake. No maps exist detailing even the fringe regions of Grammore. We're on our own."

  Grundel nodded. "The water beasts are a suitable deterrent for any passage -- by craft, at least."

  He left the statement at that, but it sounded unfinished to Sarion's ears. Was the captain implying a trek onward? Alluding to continuing the expedition, in the hope of uncovering more information? Inside he argued against something which seemed so foolhardy, and he wished to return immediately, leave the darkness of Grammore behind, its secrets deeply buried. Another part of him looked at the greater scheme of things, and saw merit against abandoning the quest -- the portion of his mind that craved knowledge and adventure, which could prove reckless as well, but was reinforced by the nagging belief that the warriors and himself were caught up in a larger plan, one that was swelling like the waves beneath an angry wind, churning helplessly wherever the storm would take them. And to what end, he asked himself? What paths lay before him and the fighters -- how many more would share the fate of brave Kalen? He hadn't known the man very long, but it was enough. A noble warrior, and someone to call friend in the brief time they rode together in harsh lands.