In the Company of Ogres

Thirteen

Late that night Regina received a summons to Ned’s office. She was quite pleased for she felt certain that at this late hour there could only be one reason. Obviously Ned had noticed her incredible beauty — of course, couldn’t help but notice — and had only been hiding his growing attraction to her. But that attraction must surely have grown too strong to ignore any longer. She admired that he’d resisted for as long as he had, but now he planned on announcing his affections in a quiet meeting behind closed doors. She hadn’t decided how she would deal with this. Even her culture couldn’t completely deny the worth of men, and there were provisions set down for how an exceptional man might prove himself worthy of an Amazon’s love. She doubted very much Ned was such a man, but she didn’t care about that right now.

Before reporting, she changed into her finest garment, a suit of ceremonial armor she hadn’t worn in years. It wasn’t intended for battle, a fact made apparent by the plunging neckline of its chain-mail bodice and the shortness of its metal skirt.

She had a devil of a time putting on the thigh-high, polished leather boots. They’d always been skintight, and her thighs, loath as she was to admit it, were not as perfectly shaped as they once were. She studied herself in a full-length mirror for five minutes, adjusting buckles, shifting straps, and alternately pushing up her breasts and tucking them back until achieving just the right amount of cleavage. She went through her many capes, settled on a flowing crimson cloak, then decided she didn’t like it after all, and went with a shorter black one that complemented her shoulders without hiding her butt.

Next she sorted through her many weapons. Amazons collected armaments like dragons collected the bones of heroes, and Regina was especially guilty of this habit. She searched for just the right one to wear on her hip. A huge silver claymore was her best sword, but it was too awkward and would remove the grace from her walk. A short sword would’ve been comfortable, but too comfortable. She didn’t want to appear easy. She considered and discarded a pair of sabers. Too showy. And she deliberated briefly on something unconventional, like her trident or maul, but decided it might seem as if she were trying too hard. In the end, she went with her standard, Legion-issued sword. Not her best weapon, but the best for the situation.

Studying herself in the mirror, she decided that there was no doubt she was a most beautiful and irresistible creature. Miriam, for all her otherworldly siren charms, could never match the flawless magnificence of an Amazon warrior in her prime. Regina smiled with no small pride.

Then she saw them, and her confidence waned. Crow’s-feet. Almost imperceptible wrinkles around her eyes. She frowned, and the wrinkles deepened.

She leaned closer to the mirror, and this tiny flaw grew larger. She wasn’t that old. She shouldn’t have these. She leaned closer still and ran her fingers along the hideous chasms in her flesh. Touching her skin, she noticed the dryness. And her eyes, they were too close together. Or possibly too far apart. Either way, they were at an imperfect distance. And had her nose always been so pointy? Her blond eyebrows could use a good plucking. And was that a mole just below her left earlobe?

She wasn’t flawless. On the contrary, she was covered with flaws. Hundreds, she observed. Thousands she probably hadn’t yet. But Ned would notice. He must have. That was why he hadn’t announced his feelings. He didn’t have any. He couldn’t possibly care for such a ghastly beast, such an imperfect thing as she. Why hadn’t she taken better care of herself? Why had she been so neglectful?

Because she was an Amazon, and Amazons weren’t supposed to care about those things. But now she did, and she scowled. Those wrinkles tore their tainted path across her offensive face, and she scowled even more so with the realization that she cared.

Miriam didn’t need to worry about these things. Her accursed golden scales were as smooth and wrinkle-free as ever, and probably would be until the day she died. And while it was true Miriam’s fishlike face wasn’t the most ravishing, Regina couldn’t justly call herself superior. Not so long as those imperfections in her own face mocked her. She couldn’t bear to look upon herself anymore. Regina grabbed her mace and smashed the mirror with one enraged strike.

It didn’t make her feel better. If this was what came from attracting men, she’d been better off without them.

Her door opened, and a goblin stuck his head in. “Are you okay, ma’am? I heard a noise.”

Regina’s only answer was an annoyed huff.

“The commander sent me to check on you,” said the goblin. “He wanted to know what’s keeping you.”

She huffed again. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

The goblin shut the door.

Regina made a few more last-minute adjustments. Her limited experience assured her that men liked breasts, and this was one area in which she surpassed Miriam. She pushed her bust forward until it threatened to spill forth from her breastplate. Hair was another area where that scaly aquatic female couldn’t compete. Regina undid her bun and let the shimmering blond mane cascade across her left shoulder. But perhaps that was too obvious. She threw it behind her back. With a little more time she might do something with it, although she had no practical experience with hairstyles.

The door opened, and the goblin poked his head in again. “Ma’am?”

Snarling, she whirled on him. “Come here.”

He swallowed a gulp and stepped just within the threshold of her room. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you desire me?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am?”

She stood straighter, hands on her waist, her hip cocked to one side. “Do you find me desirable?”

He cupped his weak chin and chewed his heavy lips. His long ears twitched thoughtfully.

“Well?” she asked impatiently. “Be honest.”

“No, ma’am.”

“No? Look at me!” She advanced and bent over until her breasts were practically in his face.

The goblin stared into her cleavage with mild interest. “It may surprise you, ma’am, to discover that not every species worships the human female form.”

She straightened and stared down at him. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have sex with me?”

“Oh, sure, I’d have sex with you, ma’am, but we’d have to put out the lights first. And I’d be thinking of an ogress the whole time.”

If her mace had been within easy reach, Regina would’ve caved the goblin’s skull in. But she was already late for her date, and she refused to fret over this nonsense any longer. She was beautiful, perhaps not flawless, but close enough. And if Ned didn’t see it, she’d pummel him until he did.

Ned’s office was a short walk from her quarters. She crossed paths with several soldiers who couldn’t help but leer. Normally she would’ve scorned such attention, but she was reassured for once by this affront, and since she was late, she had no time for even a short beating. At the office door, she paused to recheck her straps. She shifted her sword, put a slight smile on her lips, and stepped inside.

“Sorry I’m late, sir.”

Ned hunched over his desk. He didn’t look up. “That’s fine, Archmajor. We started without you. Hope you don’t mind.”

She suddenly realized there were others in the room. First Officer Gabel and Organizational Lieutenant Frank sat on the couch in one comer. Both smiled knowingly at her formal armor.

“I’m sure she doesn’t mind at all,” said Frank.

“Yes, Archmajor,” said Gabel. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll stand.” She stiffened.

Ned had yet to glance up from his paperwork. He scribbled on his infernal budget. The angry parchment shook and hissed as he moved numbers around, but several daggers pinned it securely to the desk.

“I’m sorry for the late hour of this meeting,” said Ned, “but I couldn’t sleep, and I was hoping to get some work done.” He scratched something out, and the budget growled. “I’m good with numbers, but there’s not much to work with here.”

“May I ask what this is about, sir?” inquired Regina.

“The commander was just informing us that Ogre Company has been given six months to improve itself,” said Gabel, “and he was asking us for any suggestions to do that.”

Regina’s surprise pushed aside her annoyance. “Sir, are you asking for our advice?”

He glanced up finally, and she was quite pleased when his eyes paused, however briefly, on her chest before turning back to his paperwork.

“That’s right, Archmajor. Is that a problem?” asked Ned.

“No, sir,” said Regina. “It’s just that none of the previous commanders ever asked for our advice.”

“You are supposed to be my advisors, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank shifted, and the couch groaned under his bulk. “But all the other commanders thought they knew better.”

“And now they’re all dead,” said Ned. “Right?”

Gabel, Regina, and Frank exchanged paranoid glances.

“Isn’t that right?” asked Ned once more.

“Yes, sir,” replied Gabel. “All accidents of course.”

“Terrible misfortunes,” added Frank.

“They were great men, and they deserved better,” said Regina.

“Without a doubt,” said Gabel, “but let’s not dwell on the freakish, yet perfectly explainable, mishaps that ended their lives, but instead on the glory of their deeds.”

The three conspiratorial officers exchanged another round of guilty looks. Ned, as usual, was wholly oblivious.

“You three have been here a long time,” he said, “and if I’m going to turn this company around, I’ll need your support.” He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “To be honest, I don’t have any idea what I’m doing. It’d make a lot more sense for one of you to be in my position, but nobody asked us, right?”

They nodded.

“You must have a few ideas,” he said.

“Yes, sir.” Regina smiled, felt the wrinkles around her eyes, and went perfectly blank.

“Good. Let’s get to it then.”

They passed the following two hours offering up suggestions. Each couldn’t help but be skeptical at first, assuming Ned already had his own ideas how to proceed and was merely putting on a show, pretending he valued their opinions. But within a few minutes, it became clear that he really did want their advice. Once they recovered from their shock, both Frank and Regina shared their ideas freely. Gabel remained silent, submitting nothing useful. He sat on the couch, his arms folded, his eyes narrowed, his long ears tilted back.

As they worked, Ned continued to scrawl his adjustments to the company’s budget. Slowly the infernal document changed more to his liking. The budget was tamed by the time the meeting was over. It purred and rubbed against its new master’s legs. Ned, with no small pride, ordered it to furl itself up, and it obeyed.

“I guess that’s enough for tonight.” Yawning, he handed the budget to Regina. “See that this gets to the head office for approval, would you, Archmajor?”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted, and for the first time she actually meant it.

Ned rose from his desk, stretched, and opened the door adjoining his office to his quarters. “See you in the morning.” He shut the door, leaving them alone in the office.

None said a word. They waited until they’d delivered the budget to the roc facility for rush delivery and had a round of drinks at the pub before they spoke of what had just happened.

“That settles it,” said Gabel.

“It certainly does,” agreed Regina.

“So we’re all agreed then?” said Gabel. “We have to get rid of him as soon as possible.”

Regina sneered at the ore. “We can’t do that.”

“We can find a way. Immortal or not.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” asked Gabel.

“I’m not so sure Ned has to die anymore.”

Gabel barked a harsh laugh that quieted the pub for a moment. He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed whisper. “He’s obviously up to something. Why else would he put on that charade tonight?”

Regina leaned forward, not very easy to do in her tight bodice. A purely decorative strap popped loose. “Maybe it wasn’t a charade.”

Gabel was so focused on the argument, his glance didn’t stray to her breasts, slipping another three-quarters of an inch closer to freedom. “Don’t be naive, Amazon.” He plopped back into his chair. “What do you think, Frank?”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I do know,” countered Gabel. “I know that Ned’s planning something. And I’d wager every coin I’ve got that he has suspicions.”

“Of what?” asked Frank.

“Of us, you dolt.”

The ogre’s massive fists tightened. He was a good-natured sort, but Gabel recognized that Frank had his limits. Gabel plastered a pleasant grin across his face and bought the next round to cool Frank’s temper.

“Why should he be suspicious of us?” said Regina. “We haven’t even tried to kill him yet. Have we?”

By now the officers had much practice with furtive glances, and so they exchanged another round among themselves.

“Of course not,” said Gabel. “But he has died twice already, and that’s got to look suspicious. Even if they were accidents this time. Which they were, we all agree.”

“Yes.” Regina narrowed her eyes. “Accidents.”

“Unfortunate spots of bad luck,” agreed Frank, but he didn’t sound quite convinced. “Maybe Regina’s right. Maybe we should wait a little longer before we decide.”

“And give him more time to piece things together?” Gabel shook his head violently. “I say the sooner we kill him, the better.”

“And I say we shouldn’t kill him at all,” replied Regina.

“You would, Amazon.” The last word he mumbled with derision.

“What do you mean by that, orc?”

“Nothing. I just never thought I’d see the day an Amazon warrior would throw herself so brazenly at a man.” He muttered into his tankard. “But what can you expect from a woman?”

Regina exploded into action. She kicked the table to one side and shoved one of her leather boots across Gabel’s cheek. He tumbled from his chair and skidded to a painful stop.

Frank sighed.

“Get up.” She growled, drawing her sword. “Get up and die, you pathetic male!”

Gabel rose and drew his own weapon. “I’ve always wanted to teach you some respect, you lesbian bitch.”

“I am not a lesbian!”

“Oh, that’s right. How could I forget?” Gabel smirked. “Lesbians don’t wave their tits around in front of boys.”

Regina howled a fearsome battle cry that sent alternate waves of fear and excitement through the pub. Before she could launch herself at her foe, Frank smashed her over the head with a jug of wine. Moaning, she fell to the floor.

“Why did you do that?” asked Gabel. “I could’ve taken her.”

Frank slammed one giant fist down upon Gabel’s skull, and he joined the Amazon on the floor.

“All right, folks. Nothing to see here. Carry on.”

He scooped up the stunned orc under one arm, the dazed Amazon under the other, and walked from the pub. He searched for a secluded, darkened corner. This wasn’t easy. Most of the shadowy spots were already occupied by slumbering drunks or soldiers engaged in prohibited activities that Frank didn’t bother investigating. When he finally found the empty pool of shadow he sought, Gabel and Regina had come to their senses. Frank set them down.

Regina punched him. He barely felt the blow, but that he felt it at all spoke well of the Amazon’s strength.

“How dare you!” She cocked back her fist.

“I know you think I deserved that, so I’ll let you have the first one for free.” The ogre inhaled, puffing out his thick chest. “Second one will cost you.”

Her hand dropped to her empty scabbard. If her sword hadn’t been left in the pub, she would’ve tried her luck. Instead she turned her wrath back to its original source. She glowered at Gabel. He glowered back.

Frank leaned against a wall. “Go ahead. Kill each other if it’ll make you feel better. I just wanted you to do it someplace more private. With your fists.”

Gabel adopted the stooped posture of traditional orcish wrestling. “I’m so sick of your precious Amazon superiority. It’s time to show you what a man can do.”

Regina laughed. “You push a quill across paperwork all day. You’re not a warrior. You’re a file clerk.”

“Watch her left,” Frank advised. “She leads with her left.”

Howling, Gabel charged. Saliva and foam sprayed from his lips as he dove, his outstretched hands reaching for her neck. She darted to one side and chopped him in the throat. Gagging, he fell to his knees.

“She’s not bad with her right either,” added Frank.

Regina circled her choking opponent until he could get to his feet.

“Lucky shot,” sputtered Gabel.

He rushed her again. Regina spun and thrust her heel into his gut, knocking the wind from him.

“Gotta keep an eye on the legs,” said Frank.

Gabel used a wall to steady himself. “Now you tell me.” His breath was ragged. His green face paled in the moonlight. This time he moved forward cautiously. He was still unprepared when she grabbed him by the wrist, and with a pivot and a jerk, he was down on the ground.

“Okay.” Gabel sat up. “I definitely spotted a flaw in her technique that time.”

Frank closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of combat, consisting of one orc being tossed around, thumping against the stony ground, bouncing off the brick walls, and once smashing into a couple of empty mead barrels. Frank was positive he’d heard Gabel break something. When the racket fell silent save for the orc’s ragged breaths, Frank opened his eyes again.

“All done?”

For Regina, battle in all its forms was a calming exercise, as close to meditation as an Amazon ever got. Beating Gabel had taken her edge off. “I’m done if he’s done.”

Gabel lay on the ground where he’d fallen and wheezed a noise that might be taken as surrender. “What are we going to do about Ned?” he asked between gasps.

“Whatever we have to,” said Frank. “But the rule is none of us acts unless we all agree. And since none of us agrees—”

“We wait.” Regina ground her heel into Gabel’s gut as she walked away.

He waited until absolutely, positively certain she was out of earshot before pushing himself up on an elbow. “Her judgment is impaired.”

“What are you saying?” asked Frank.

“I’m saying maybe she’s become a liability.”

Frank seized Gabel in one huge hand, lifted the orc to his feet, and didn’t let go. “I don’t want to hear talk like that.” He tightened his grip.

Gabel winced. His legs buckled, but Frank kept him from falling.

“What’s the big deal?” asked Gabel. “We’ve taken care of problems like this before.”

“We stick together. If we turn on each other, it’ll all fall apart.”

Frank squeezed tighter.

“Okay, okay. I get the point.”

Frank let go.

Gabel staggered a bit, nearly falling over again. “But you have to admit she’s not thinking clearly. What do you think she sees in him?”

“I don’t know. She deserves a lot better.”

“Deserves? What do you mean by that?”

“She could do a lot better.”

Gabel looked up at Frank, and Frank looked down.

“You didn’t say that,” remarked Gabel. “You said ‘deserves.’ ”

“So?”

“It’s a funny word to use,” said Gabel.

“Funny how?”

“Just funny.”

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it,” said Frank.

“Forget it.” Gabel attempted to limp away, but Frank clamped his hand back on the orc’s shoulder.

“Funny how?”

“It’s nothing really. Just the context. Just the way you said it.”

“How did I say it?”

“Like it meant something.”

Gabel would’ve been happy to leave it at that, but Frank exerted a tad more pressure upon the orc’s bruised, swollen shoulder.

“It just sounded like maybe you liked her,” Gabel said.

Frank let go. “I don’t like her. I mean, I do like her, but I don’t like her. Not like that. I don’t like her like her, if that’s what you mean.”

“Of course, you don’t. Even the mere notion of an ogre and an Amazon together is perfectly ludicrous.”

Frank scowled. “Yes. Ludicrous.”

“Absolutely laughable,” said Gabel. “Totally ridiculous.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Frank.

“I’ll admit she’s nice to look at, but that personality doesn’t help much.”

“I like her personality,” mumbled Frank.

“Can you imagine what she’d be like in bed? Probably telling you what to do all the time. ‘Move here! Put that there! More to the left! Too far left! Oh, you’re doing it all wrong, maggot! Pleasure me properly, maggot, or it’s a thousand sit-ups!’”

“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” mumbled Frank, though Gabel didn’t hear.

“And even her taste in men is preposterous. Hundreds of stout, worthy soldiers in this citadel, and she picks the one guy who can’t go a day without dying? Women… who can figure them out?”

“Yes,” agreed Frank softly. “Women.”

They started back to the pub. Battered and sore, Gabel limped along, holding his right arm stiffly.

“You might want to get that looked at,” said Frank.

Gabel snorted. “It’ll be fine until I get a couple drinks in me.”

They walked a bit farther.

“It’s not perfectly ludicrous,” said Frank, mostly to himself.

“What?”

“You said that an Amazon and an ogre together would be perfectly ludicrous.”

“Yes?”

“So it’s not perfectly ludicrous.”

Gabel came to a sudden stop. Frank bumped into the orc and nearly knocked him off his feet again.

“What are you talking about?” asked Gabel.

“Nothing really,” said Frank. “It’s just, I don’t think it’s right to say it’s a perfectly ludicrous pairing. We ogres have many qualities an Amazon might find desirable. We’re big. We’re strong. We fight well. We’re grand drinkers and passionate lovers. And we like to cuddle.”

Gabel shook his head. “Fine. It’s not perfectly ludicrous.” He turned to walk but halted when Frank didn’t follow. “Are you coming or not?”

Frank folded his arms and nodded thoughtfully to himself. “We agree then. It’s just ludicrous. But not perfectly so.”

Gabel forced a smile. “No, not perfectly so.”

“Very good.”

“So do you like her?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Frank replied. “Although she’s a fine woman. If she were an ogress, she’d make some lucky ogre a fine wife.” He smiled wistfully.

“You do. You do like her!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

The ogre lowered his voice to a whisper. “Okay. Maybe I like her a little. But only a little bit.”

Gabel chuckled. The laugh rattled a cracked rib and brought tears to his eyes. “What’s so funny?” asked Frank.

Gabel continued to chortle and groan.

Frank spat. “I don’t really like her that much. Hardly at all actually.” He put a finger to the sore spot under his collar-bone where Regina had punched him. In the moonlight, there were indications that it might turn into a small bruise. He smiled.

“But if you think about it, it’s not that ludicrous at all.”

“Whatever you say.” Gabel started back, determined neither broken bones nor lovesick ogres would keep him from a tall, stout ale.