flurry.
Marakion cursed as he watched the ogre closing on the
boy. The damned ogre was ruining everything! Scaring off
Marakion’s guide, the ogre might kill the boy before
Marakion could question him!
*****
Gylar’s heart beat against his rib cage like a
woodpecker. The snow impeded every step of his short
legs, while the ogre’s strides cleared the terrain as though it
were midsummer ground. It was just a matter of time.
Gylar gulped for air as he struggled onward. His mind had
gone numb, and all he could think of was escape. He’d
heard stories about what ogres did to children. . . .
Just at the height of his despair, when the ogre loomed
over him, casting a nightlike shadow that engulfed Gylar,
the strap of his pack slipped off his shoulder.
If Gylar had been thinking straight, he’d have
abandoned his pack and kept going, but he reflexively hung
onto it as it scraped the snow. Too late, he realized his
error. The momentum of his flight sent him sprawling, then
tumbling down the hill. He careened into a snowbank in a
fluff of white.
The massive arm of the ogre plunged into the snow,
groped around, then plucked out a struggling Gylar. The
ogre’s craggy mouth split like a crack in a tree’s bark,
revealing a fairly complete row of sharp teeth as dingy
yellow as the ogre’s mottled skin.
*****
Twenty feet away, Marakion leaned against a tree,
listening. A shimmer ran the length of Glint.
The ogre chuckled at the boy as it began to walk home.
“Glad came,” the ogre said, with a thick, grating accent.
“Hungry, me. We eat, I and you.” The ogre chuckled again,
sounded like someone scraping rough rocks together. “Take
home you to me. Dinner, we have – ”
“Not today.” Marakion said clearly in the frosty air as the
two walked past the tree he stood behind. The ogre took one
look at Marakion and dropped the boy into the snow with a
snarl.
But Marakion was on the ogre before it could even
raise its arms in defense. Marakion kicked out, struck the
ogre in the knee, swung the Hat end of Glint into the side of
the ogre’s head.
The creature went down in a tumble of arms and snow.
Marakion stood ready as the ogre surged onto its feet. It
was calm, imposing.
“Leave, friend. The boy is under my protection. If you
have any wits at all, you’ll seek food elsewhere. Surely
catching a deer could not be as much trouble as this little
one will cost you.”
The ogre growled, flexing its muscles under its rough
yellow skin, but it did not take a step forward. It was
accustomed to fearful enemies, not one facing it with
confidence. The ogre showed its teeth viciously. “Hungry.
Food mine. You leave.”
“Not on your life.” Marakion smiled, his stance
immobile. It felt good to fight, for whatever reason. The
despair, the frustration, the hopelessness – all disappeared
when Marakion went into combat. “You leave, or we fight.
If you insist, I must say I’m really in the mood for the
battle. Is it worth it?”
The ogre stood swaying back and forth, wondering,
perhaps, what it was that made this human brave enough to
challenge it. It showed its teeth again. “Hungry!” it
growled, clenching and unclenching its clawed fists
anxiously.
Marakion’s eyes narrowed. “Times are hard for all of
us, friend. Everyone’s got – ”
Marakion didn’t have time to finish his sentence. The
ogre – a madness in its eyes, daws extended – charged the
knight.
Having thought he was actually having some effect
with his words, Marakion was surprised by the sudden
onslaught. Quick reflexes moved him to the side of the
hulking swing that cracked a tree trunk behind him.
Marakion slid under the ogre’s arm and dodged behind the
yellow giant. His sword flashed out, slashing once, twice on
the ogre’s back. Blood welled from cuts, a muted crack
sounded. Broken bone, Marakion realized. The ogre roared
in pain, struck out with its huge fist. Yellow-fleshed arm
bone and steel whacked together harshly, and the ogre
howled again.
Another huge yellow hand came down. Marakion didn’t