The Ogre Apprentice (The Bowl of Souls Book 8), page 16
The others nodded. This happened some times when ogres became too excited. If there wasn’t something to fight, they hit whatever was available. Crag seemed satisfied by this and he returned his attention to Fist.
“What is this you is wearing?” the chieftain asked, looking Fist up and down in disapproval. “Metal skin?”
“This is my evil-fighting armor,” Fist said, using the phrase he had practiced beforehand. He pounded his chest with his fist, but the metal didn’t give the loud ping he was hoping for. It was more of a thud and it hurt his hand. He didn’t let his pain show.
“You is ready for fighting the evil?” Crag said, his expression slowly changing to admiration. “You is coming?”
“I am,” Fist said.
Crag shouted with glee. “Fist is Thunder People again!”
“No!” Fist said, causing his father’s smile to wither. “I am Fist of the Big and Little People Tribe. My tribe will go into the mountains and fight this evil.”
Crag frowned. “But you is Thunder People.”
“The Big and Little People will fight the evil.” Fist repeated. He folded his arms and gave Crag his most imposing stare. “We will allow the Thunder People to help us destroy it.”
“You is the Big and Little People?” Burl scoffed and his two friends snorted. “One ogre is not a tribe.”
“My tribe is more than ogres!” Fist said, pointing to Squirrel, who was standing proudly, with his little arms folded in front of him. “We have many peoples. My tribe sends me and Squirrel and the giant, Charz. We will also bring the human wizard, Locksher.”
“You will not join the Thunder People again?” Crag asked. He looked saddened.
Fist found the look in his father’s eyes unsettling. Crag didn’t feel sadness. “No. But we will ally with you.”
“Ally?” asked Bash. The tall ogre scratched his head as if unsure what he meant.
Ally wasn’t a strong enough word, Fist realized. He took another tactic. “I am an ogre mage.”
Ogre mages rarely stayed in the tribes they were born into. Their ability to use magic gave them a high enough status that they could stay outside of tribal conflicts. Therefore, most of them preferred to keep to themselves or started small tribes of their own. The other tribes gave them food and women to ensure that the mages would help them when needed.
Fist raised one massive arm into the air and electricity crackled visibly around his fist. “I will lead you to destroy this evil!”
The ogres gasped at Fist’s reminder of his powers. Crag’s eyes widened, but jaw clenched at the idea of Fist taking charge. “I am chief.”
“You are not my chief,” Fist said. “You are chief of the Thunder People. As ogre mage, I will lead my tribe to the mountains and if you want us to help the Thunder People, you will listen to my rules.”
“You give the Thunder People rules?” Crag growled.
“I do,” Fist replied and the rest of the ogres looked warily from him to Crag.
It was obvious that the chieftain did not like this turn of events, but Fist had expected this reaction. Crag never had liked it when an ogre mage came to his territory and tried to tell him what to do. Well, he would just have to learn to deal with it.
Fist started with something Crag could not argue against. “The first rule is that our tribes will work together until the evil is destroyed. This means we will not war with each other. We will share our food. We will protect each other.”
Crag thought for a moment as if looking for a trick. Then he nodded slowly. “I agree to these.”
Fist nodded back at him. It was a good beginning. “Also, the Thunder People will not fight any of the humans or other little people we come across on the way.”
Crag scowled. “No fighting? Are all little people in your tribe now, Fist?”
“No, but they are under my protection,” he said, giving Crag a look of such firmness that the ogre blinked in surprise.
“What about the little peoples that is evil now?” Asked one of Burl’s friends, boldly stepping forward. He was a stocky ogre with a thick beard. “We should let them bite us and turn us evil too?”
“We will fight the evil,” Fist said, doing his best to avoid the question. The dreams he had been having loomed heavily in his mind. Hopefully Locksher would find a way to heal those affected by the worms. He didn’t want to have to kill any innocents if he did not have to.
“But what of the-!” Burl began.
“Stop, Burl!” Crag said, holding up a hand. “You are not chief.” He returned his attention to Fist. “You telled me long ago that the little peoples is not our enemies. You was right. I accept these rules, ogre mage.”
“Good,” said Fist. A smile split his face. This had gone much better than he had hoped. Darlan would be proud.
Crag turned to the others. “You heared Fist’s rules! We go. The Thunder People and the Big and Little People. We go together! We fight the evil. We save our territory!” The ogres cheered, though Burl and his friends did so half-heartedly.
“Puj, come here,” Crag said, pointing. The ogress walked to him hesitantly. He grabbed her wrist, his eyes never leaving Fist’s. “This is my gift to your tribe.”
Crag dragged her forward and shoved her at Fist. The ogress stumbled in surprise and grabbed onto Fist to steady herself.
“What are you doing?” Fist asked in alarm.
“This woman is part of your tribe now,” Crag said.
Puj looked from Crag to Fist and smiled. She giggled and a chunk of dead leaf poultice fell out of her nose. “I am in big Fist’s new tribe?”
Fist stammered. “I-uh. I did not ask for your woman, Crag.”
“It is good,” Crag assured him. “This is why I bringed Puj with us. For you.”
“For me? Why?” Fist asked, not understanding.
“You has been gone from us for a long time. It is much too long for a warrior to be away from the womens.” The rest of the ogre men nodded somberly. A few of them were giving Puj sad looks. With the ogress part of his tribe, they would all be without her company for the return trip.
“I-. But, I . . .” Fist swallowed. It had indeed been a long time, but he tried not to think about it. After bonding with Justan, he had decided that he would have to live without that kind of company.
Good for Fist! Squirrel said approvingly.
Shut up, Squirrel, he replied. This was not good. This was one of the things he had never liked about his people. Just passing the women around like property? How could he get out of it?
But you have dreams about this, Squirrel said and sent him a few choice images from the particular dream he was referring to. Fist’s cheeks went red. There were some things he wished Squirrel could not monitor through the bond.
“Poor lonely Fist,” Puj said as if in agreement with Squirrel. The ogress laid her head on his shoulder and ran her hand across his chest. “Your metal chest is cold.” Then she put her hand between his legs.
Fist yelped and leapt back, holding her out at arm’s length. Puj looked at him in surprise and the other ogres laughed at his response.
“What is wrong?” said Bash in amusement. “You forget what to do?”
“It really has been long for you, Fist!” said another.
Crag laughed. “Fist always was shy around the womens. We should go and leave them alone.”
“How far should we go?” Rub asked. The ugly ogre was still dazed from his fight. His eyes were unfocused.
“Wait!” Fist said, trying madly to think of a way out of this. He was embarrassed knowing that the archers above and the soldiers in the trees were seeing this whole exchange. He would undoubtedly hear about this later. “I cannot accept this gift,”
Crag frowned. “But you must. You are a ogre. You need a woman.”
Yes, said Squirrel, tugging on his ear.
Stop it, Fist replied.
“You do not like me?” Puj said, looking both hurt and offended. She really was pretty for an ogre and despite her bulky furs, Fist could tell that she had an impressive figure. She probably was not used to rejection from the males.
“This is . . . not about that,” Fist said. “I-uh. My tribe is not like ogre tribes. I can not accept a new member unless I talk to the others first.”
“What kind of tribe is this?” Crag said, insulted by the idea. “You is chief. You tell them what to do.”
“But I’m n-.” Fist shut his mouth before finishing his protest. He couldn’t see how correcting Crag’s assumption would help anything.
Uh oh, said Squirrel pushing an image of Justan into Fist’s mind.
I never said I was chief, Fist sent. He straightened his posture and gave his father a firm look as he lied, “It is the rules of the Big and Little People. I will speak with my tribe about it first. Puj must stay with you here for now.”
“You is leaving?” Puj asked in surprise.
“I’ll be back,” he told her.
Crag hadn’t stopped frowning. “But we is going to fight the evil.”
“We leave in the morning,” Fist proclaimed. “I will gather food and provisions and return with the giant and the human wizard.”
“You will bring more human foods?” asked Rub hopefully. Several of the others perked up their ears at this question.
“Yes,” said Fist. After all, they would be slowed down if they had to stop and hunt too often along the way.
A few cheers broke out among the ogres and Crag nodded in approval, his frown fading. “Human food is good.”
Evidently the food that the Mage School kitchens had sent out to the ogres had been a success. Humans were good at using spices and vegetables to flavor their food. Ogre cooking was bland and often either burnt or undercooked.
“Bring more of that bread thing,” added Bash.
Fist smiled back at them. He remembered how much he had enjoyed human cooking the first time he had tried it. Tamboor’s wife Efflina had invited him to their house for some wonderful bread and thick lamb stew. The memory still made his mouth water.
He gave the ogres an encouraging nod and assured them, “We will have good human food for our journey.”
This announcement went over well. Puj grinned along with the others, forgetting that Fist had slighted her. Even Burl and his friends were happy about this news.
Fist turned to leave and as he headed back towards the gate, his smile faded. Burl had probably eaten human food during the war. Most likely in the form of plunder from some conquered village. Fist sighed. This was going to be a long trip.
Why? Squirrel asked. Why you not want the woman?
Fist tried to think of the best way to explain. Are you still a squirrel?
I am Squirrel.
Yes, but are you like other squirrels? Fist asked.
Squirrel chewed a nut while he thought about it. Unlike Fist, Squirrel hadn’t stopped associating with his own kind after bonding. He was larger than other Squirrels thanks to the bond, but he often climbed the trees and chattered with them, sometimes darting around and playing with them. He even dallied with the females at certain times during the year. Those were the times that Squirrel’s bond with Fist made the ogre quite uncomfortable.
Yes, Squirrel said finally as Fist walked through the gate.
Fist hadn’t expected that response. Even though you think so different?
Squirrels are not smart, Squirrel admitted. I am smart, but I am a squirrel.
Well I am not so sure about me, Fist said. It wasn’t just the difference in intelligence that bothered him. He had found the entire encounter with his former people troubling and, once again, he had been reminded how little he resembled his ogre kin. Maybe I never was an ogre.
Fist’s steps slowed and he looked down at the ground as he walked across the manicured grass. Even before he had bonded with Justan, Fist hadn’t liked his people’s practices. Their roughness. The way they treated each other. Their flawed sense of honor. Back in his younger days, he had wanted to change the Thunder People way of life. Now he didn’t see the point in trying. Ogres were ogres.
“I take it that didn’t go well?” called a male voice and Fist turned to see that Captain Commander Riveren was jogging up behind him with Charz at his side.
The petite figure of the elf Antyni sat on the rock giant’s shoulder. She did that a lot when Charz was around. It was a habit she had picked up during the war. She was half the giant’s height and a tiny fraction of his weight and the giant put up with it. When Fist had asked her why she did it, the elf had confided to Fist that it was because she liked feeling so tall.
“It wasn’t like I hoped,” Fist replied. They must have been watching the encounter from atop the wall. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed them. “You heard?”
Riveren stopped a few feet from the ogre. “We couldn’t hear everything that was said. I need to know if there’s anything my men should watch out for.”
“No. They should behave,” Fist said. He passed an embarrassed glance up at Antyni, who was looking down on him with a frown. “The ogres agreed to the rules I gave them. They know that I will be in charge for the journey.”
“Then why do you look like they force fed you a toad?” Charz asked, his voice amused.
“They . . . gave me a woman,” said Fist in disgust.
Riveren’s eyebrows rose. “They ‘gave’ you a woman?”
Charz snorted, then busted out with a loud fit of laughter. His shoulders shook so violently that he nearly dislodged Antyni, who smacked him in the top of his head. She did not look like she found the concept amusing.
“Crag said she was a gift to my tribe,” Fist explained. At the confounded look on Antyni’s face, he added, “Ogres do that some times. They use the women like money between the tribes. Crag said that he brought her here for me.”
“From how friendly she was acting, it looks like you got a great deal,” Charz said with a guffaw.
Fist grimaced. So they had seen that part. How had he not noticed that the giant was watching? Had Charz been on his knees, peering over the edge of the parapet? “I don’t think it’s funny.”
A smile had spread across Riveren’s face. “Well, if there’s nothing for me to worry about, I should get back with my men. Good luck with that, uh, woman trouble you’ve got.”
“Thanks,” Fist said with sarcasm as the captain turned and left. The ogre returned his frustrated gaze to Charz. The giant’s shoulders were still shaking. “This is serious. How am I supposed to handle this? I can’t just take her into my tribe.”
“You tell them. ‘No thank you’,” Antyni replied. The elf’s hands were on her hips and her lips were twisted in a cute scowl.
“It isn’t that easy, Antyni,” he said. “If I refuse her, I insult her and Crag. I need them to follow me.”
“Then let her in to your ‘tribe’,” Charz said. “You let lots of people in. You tell me and your other friends that we are part of your tribe and we’re not even bonded to you.”
“It isn’t that easy,” Fist protested. He didn’t like the flippant way the giant had put that. To Fist, the decision to accept someone as part of the Big and Little People was a serious one. He consulted with Justan over each one before they were invited. “She is an ogress.”
Charz shrugged. “So? You’re an ogre.”
“I’m not like them!” he protested. “She would be wild and . . . disruptive.”
His anxiety grew the more he thought about it. If he let Puj into the tribe, it would be a permanent thing. He couldn’t just trade her away or kick her out once she was part of their family. She would stick close to him too, and she wouldn’t understand the way he was living his life.
Puj would also expect certain things from him. He was the only ogre male in the tribe after all. Fist found the notion both alluring and cringe inducing. He had been around enough ogre females to know that she would be forceful about it too.
Good, said Squirrel.
“No,” he said with a shudder. “That would be bad.”
“Take it up with Sir Edge and Sherl then,” said Charz with a shrug. He chuckled again. “I gotta tell you, when I saw that ogress give you a grope I just about fell off the wall!”
Antyni pounded the giant’s head with her fist. “You be nice. He didn’t ask for that.” She turned her scowl on the ogre. “Did you?”
“I want nothing to do with her,” Fist said and sighed, knowing that the ire in her face was but a shadow of what he was going to receive when he took the situation to Darlan. She might even go visit the ogres herself and try to shout some sense into them. “Maybe Justan will be able to think up a way for me to say no.”
