The goblins struggled to get the roc from the pens. The giant birds were almost supernaturally stubborn. When they were supposed to be in their pens, they always wanted out. And when they were supposed to be out, that was the only time they’d stay in. One team of goblin handlers pulled on a rope around the roc’s neck, while two more teams prodded its backside with long spears.
Regina buckled on the last bit of her armor. “I don’t have time for this.”
Ace puffed on his pipe. “Trust me. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to need a bird that’s broken in.”
The roc used its tail to sweep the prodders away. They went flying in various directions, but a new team immediately sprang into action.
“You call this broken in?” asked Regina.
“He’s just being persnickety. Once we get him saddled, he’ll be more agreeable.”
While the handlers inched the roc from its pen, step by arduous step, Regina paced. Her armor rattled loudly, which did nothing to soothe the roc’s mood.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” said Ace.
“Then why are you going?”
“Because you’re going to need the best pilot if it’s going to work. Not that it will. I doubt we’ll even find Ned. And if we do, we’ll have that whole swarm of demons to deal with. The way I see it, either we’re wasting our time or this is a suicide mission.”
“If you’re afraid, you don’t have to come.”
“I said I thought it was a bad idea.” He chuckled. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Goblins didn’t know fear. The closest they came was the concept of panic. The species lived under the shadow of death, having a lifespan that measured in months. Ace was three years old and somewhat embarrassed by his advanced age. Goblins considered a high risk of death and dismemberment a prerequisite for any worthwhile endeavor. Since Ace had yet to meet his end, it was assumed by many of his kin that he was more devoted to staying alive than living well. This would’ve been the one and only sin in the goblin religion if goblins had bothered with religion.
“We’ll find Ned,” said Regina.
“What makes you so certain?”
“Because we have to.”
“I don’t see why,” said Ace. “The Legion will just send us a new commander.”
“This isn’t about commanders,” replied Regina.
“Then what’s it about?”
She stopped pacing. She wished she knew the answer to that.
“It’s about Ned.” Though siren vocal cords were resilient, Miriam’s voice hadn’t quite recovered from the Final Note. It was rough and dry. “And demons.”
Regina whirled on the newly arrived siren. Miriam wore her own armor, lighter and quieter than the Amazon’s.
“What are you doing here?” asked Regina.
“I’m going with you.”
Regina scoffed. “I don’t need your help.”
“That’s good,” said Miriam, “because I’m not coming along to help you.”
The women locked stares, something they’d been doing so often lately that this time it was mostly a habit.
Miriam said, “Archmajor, this isn’t a debate. You’re thinking the same thing I am. Those were demons abducting Ned. And there’s no good reason for that. Unless maybe he was telling the truth.”
Ace stood between the women. He was far too short to block their stares, but the noxious cloud from his pipe did make their eyes water. The smoke clung to their drying eyeballs, but both refused to blink.
“You aren’t telling me you believe him? About destroying the universe?” asked Ace.
Miriam replied, “I don’t know. But if it’s true, if even some small part, then we have to try. And even if it’s not, which it can’t possibly be, I can’t just stand by while you two rush off to your glorious deaths. I owe Ned more than that.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” said Regina coldly.
“Oh, no? If I recall correctly, Ned is mine.”
Regina scowled. “He’s not yours. Not until you’ve won him by rite of combat.”
“I thought I already did.”
“We didn’t get a chance to finish.” Regina’s hand went to her sword.
“Oh, leave it in your scabbard, ma’am,” said Miriam. “We’ll settle the matter once we’ve rescued Ned.”
“Can’t hurt to have backup,” added Ace, “and you gotta admit, she’s not bad with a sword.”
Regina had to admit no such thing. Not aloud anyway. But she had gained a grudging respect for her rival. She didn’t want Miriam coming along, but short of beating Miriam to death, which the Amazon was confident she could do in a pinch, there was no other choice.
“Just don’t expect me to save you if things get hairy,” said Regina.
By now, the roc was out of the pen. The goblins scurried over the monstrous bird, reminding Regina very much of giant green fleas. Saddles were strapped on for the pilot and passengers in no time at all, and the roc calmed a bit as Ace promised. The pilot climbed up the roc’s neck to sit on the saddle just behind its head. He lowered his goggles. His scarf fluttered in the wind. Neither Regina nor Miriam commented, but the light of the evening sun cast a soft halo around the goblin, giving him a heroic glow. There was something dashing about twenty-five pounds of goblin determination perched atop eight tons of irritated, unpredictable bird flesh.
The handlers threw down a rope ladder for the passengers to ascend, and they hesitated. It was one thing to admire Ace’s guts, quite another to place their lives in his hands.
“Coming, ladies?” asked Ace.
Both grabbed hold of the ladder at the same time.
“Permission to come along, ma’am?” shouted Corporal Martin out of the blue.
The roc twisted at the sudden outburst and would’ve stepped on Miriam and Regina. Ace prevented the accident with a yank of the reins, thus spurring some confidence in the women.
The ogre twins Lewis and Martin stood before them. Ogres rarely bothered with armor. The cost of outfitting their massive bodies was prohibitive to the bottom line of Brute’s Legion. They were already notoriously thick-skinned, and getting stabbed was a general nuisance rather than a life-threatening event. But the twins were ready for action, each carrying his weapon of choice. Lewis favored a massive stone club, while Martin preferred a slightly less massive club embedded with iron spikes.
Martin saluted casually as a proper salute would’ve ended with him bashing his brother in the face. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I heard about what you’re planning, and I was hoping to come along.”
Regina asked Lewis, “And you, private?”
Lewis shrugged his half of their shoulders. “Honestly, ma’am, I’m not as keen on the notion as my brother, but we should do something. One doesn’t allow demons to abduct an officer.”
“It simply isn’t done,” said Martin.
Regina glanced to Miriam, who nodded. The goblins were already throwing on another saddle, this one large enough for a one-headed ogre and barely large enough for a two-headed one.
“Fine. You can come.” Regina sighed. “Now can we get on with this?”
“They might have something to say about it, ma’am,” said Lewis.
Behind the twins, a mob of soldiers came from Copper Citadel. Frank led. Having been thrown through a wall, he was bruised and battered, but relatively unharmed. He’d broken a few bones but stubbornly refused to pay them any mind. Ogres broke bones so often, particularly in their terrifying and awkward adolescence, that unless one was sticking out of their skin, they hardly noticed.
Regina put her hand on her sword. “Don’t try and stop me.”
Miriam stepped forward. “Stop us.”
Frank said, “We’re not here to stop you. We’re here to help.”
“Yes, we like Ned!” shouted Sally loudly enough to spit a ten-foot gout of flame in the air.
The soldiers grumbled in agreement.
“You do?” asked Regina. “But what about the training?”
“That’s just part of the job!” shouted an orc.
“And the dragon?” asked Regina. “And the demons? And the talking roc? You don’t blame Ned for that?”
“Sure, we do!”
“But at least it’s not boring around here anymore!”
The mob roared, raising their weapons in the air.
Ward added, “Anyway, if we don’t get him back, management will just send down another asshole! And we don’t want another asshole!” He raised his fists high. “We want Ned!”
“Never Dead Ned!” shouted one soldier.
“Never Dead Ned!” repeated another.
The air filled with the chant. Some of the more inspired soldiers clanged their weapons against their armor in time with the beat.
Regina marveled at the loyalty inspired by Ned. He hadn’t done much of anything. But that had been the strength of Ned’s command, she supposed. He hadn’t tried to make Ogre Company into a crack military unit. He’d just tried to get by in a bad situation, like the rest of them. He was the first commander who truly belonged in the company. He was one of them.
Frank limped over on his broken leg. “Guess we’d better saddle up more rocs. We’ll have to send out search parties in a spread pattern until we find some sign of him,” said Frank. “And hope we find him before it’s too late.”
A pigeon landed on his shoulder. In a puff of smoke, Seamus sat there in its place. “I think I can help you with that, sir.”