The Palace Job (8 page)

"Jerl Blackspear," Kail murmured beneath the noise of the crowd. "Village speaker. Wants to be mayor, once they're big enough to merit one. Trades on having fought in the war."

"To order!" Jerl yelled, and the crowd finally settled down. "Everyone be quiet! We all know why we're here, so settle down, and let's talk about ogres."

At the word, the crowd went still. Jerl smiled.

"That's right!" Jerl called to the now-silent crowd. "That's what we've got. Ogres. And I know you're scared. Scared they'll come kill your children, scared they'll crush you under those huge clubs like that bear we found smashed like an egg in the woods." He let it sink in. "But I know all about ogres. I killed a good dozen when they raided Hendkirk's barony. You let me plan this, you listen good and careful, and we'll do the same here."

"Captain, this is going to be bloody," Kail said quietly. "You sure we can't find someplace safer to go recruiting?"

"You're saying the beasts will attack?" asked an old woodsman.

"It's all under control." Loch smiled slightly.

Kail grimaced. "What can your friend do against a mob of angry villagers? Or an ogre clan?"

"As I recall... arrogant apple." Loch raised a finger as Kail shot her a look.

"Hell, yes, I'm saying they'll attack!" Jerl barked. "They're arrogant, and they'll bite into our children's heads like you'd bite into an apple!"

Kail pursed his lips. "Okay. I'm curious."

"Arrogant apple, babbling brook," Loch said without looking at him.

"And you want us to put our lives in your hands?" a matronly woman with flour-dusted hands called out.

"Who else is it going to be?" Jerl snarled. "You'd just babble like a brook while they... while they kill us all! These beasts are arrogant, and... but I've fought them before!"

"So your fairy friend," Kail began.

"Didn't say she was a fairy," Loch said. "Arrogant apple, babbling brook, creeping cat."

"If you think you can just creep like a cat into their lairs by the babbling brook, you're just a dawdling duck!" Jerl stammered to a halt, blinking rapidly.

"Dawdling duck?" Kail asked.

Loch nodded. "She's got the rhythm, now."

"So your magical-creature friend who may or may not be a fairy," Kail said, "can play with people's thoughts?"

Loch grinned. "Picked that up all on your own, did you?"

Over the confused mutters of the crowd, the rangy young hunter that Loch had watched walk back into the forest raised his hand. "I would like to try to stop the ogres myself. I think I can do it."

"And she always uses the same patter?" Kail asked.

"Says the man who always leads with the mother insults," Loch said without looking at him.

Jerl shook his head, grimacing. "Merigan! You think you can... you apple-cheeked, babbling cat dawdling while... No!" he snapped over the growing calls from the crowd. "No! I can lead us! You can't kill an ogre with excellent eggs!"

Loch looked over at Kail. "Excellent eggs was the next one." Kail snorted. "Got that, thanks. After that?"

"Fondling fern, gullible something... Honestly, they usually fall over around this point."

"I respect your experience, Speaker Blackspear," Merigan said firmly, "but I would like to try nevertheless." He turned to the crowd. "Send me out alone, and if I fail, then let Woodsedge do as it must!"

Jerl had dropped his hammer and now clutched the table with both hands. "I can fondle more ogres than... babbling... not arrogant, I just..." Over the laughter and calls from the crowd, he shouted, "Creeping like ferns!"

"Will you let me try?" Merigan called. "Give me one chance. I will stop the ogres or die in the attempt."

"You're out of order! It's not your turn to arrogant apple, babbling brook, creeping cat," Jerl shouted, and then added, "dawdling duckling, excellent eggshells, fondling fern, gullible goat!"

And with that, the speaker for Woodsedge fell over.

"Okay, she may be better than the fairy on the register," Kail admitted. "Where is she, anyway?"

As the calls rose from the room for Merigan to take his chance against the ogres, Loch pointed at the rafters.

There, unnoticed by most, a shining white dove perched and looked out over the crowd.

Bathed in sunbeams that crept through the twisting branches to find her, Ululenia fluttered into the camp of the
Besnisti.
The great creatures were arguing as she came, and she wore the form of the snowy white dove, so none took notice of her.

"The small ones have defiled our sacred place!" one of the elders growled, baring her tusks at the threat to the clan. "They have stolen the snowmelt-bear we offered to the forest spirits! They will offer it to their own spirits now, and make war upon us!"

Another elder stood and extended a massive hand. After a moment, the one who had spoken passed over the Staff of Words, and the new speaker said, "We are newly wakened from the winter-sleep, and our people are hungry. If we bathe our clubs in anger-blood, we will not have time to hunt."

The
Besnisti
watching the discussion nodded, and Ululenia watched them from a low branch at the edge of the clearing. They were a simple people, violent but careful to follow the tenets of the land.

The first speaker angrily took back the Staff of Words. "Does the deer who sees the wolf drawing near keep gnawing at leaves?
The small ones hunt us!"
She looked to her people. "They do not follow the ways of the forest! They have brought fire! They have broken the great trees to make room for their huts! I am eldest among us, and I have seen the
Besnisti
driven away before. If we do not defend ourselves, they will kill us all!"

Ululenia looked at the mind of the elder and knew sorrow, for she was not wrong in her fears. The ogres had lost much of their woodlands to the humans in Ululenia's lifetime. When the ogres ignored the humans, the humans attacked and slaughtered the ogres. When the ogres attacked first, the humans died but returned later with warriors in great numbers.

And then, as Ululenia felt the elder's despair, one of the

Besnisti
in the crowd spoke. y?,,

It was one of the young adults, newly grown during his winter-long sleep. The others shuffled and coughed uncomfortably, since he was not an elder, and did not hold the Staff of Words.

But Ululenia saw hope.

"Why did they take the snowmelt-bear?" the young male asked. "They live in huts instead of under the trees and stars. What if they don't know why we leave the bear for the forest spirits? What if they only see a broken bear and thought we wanted to break them, too?"

The elder with the Staff of Words growled. "You are young, and know not your words," she said. "While you ask questions, the small ones sharpen their spears to..."

She broke off as the Staff of Words quivered in her hands.

A moment later, she stumbled back with a cry as it jerked itself from her grasp. It landed in the soft earth, and as the
Besnisti
gasped, roots shot from the base of the staff and dug into the ground. The stone spikes on the staffs striking head sprang off with little popping sounds as branches stretched out, already dotted with new green leaves.

Ululenia landed in the clearing and took her true form. Her horn blazed in every color of nature's glory as she stood in front of the new sapling and looked out upon the
Besnisti.

As one, they dropped to their knees before her.

Whickering softly, Ululenia pawed the soft earth, and into their minds said,
I ask that you heed the wisdom that comes from youth.
Then she turned to the young male who had asked the right question.
This is what you must do...

"A unicorn."

"That's the common word for her, yes."

Loch and Kail stood with the villagers at the perimeter of Woodsedge, watching the forest.

"She was a bird."

"Shapeshifter."

Merigan, the young man who had asked for a chance to deal with the ogres himself, stood at the front of the group. He had told everyone that morning that he'd had a dream, and the ogres would come today. Loch saw that the young man was unarmored—a village woodcutter would never have been able to afford any protection worth wearing—but carried an old infantry blade that must have belonged to his father.

"And, what, she usually just wants to look like a horse with a big point on its head?"

"Evidently, Kail."

"I'm not sure I'd want a team member who thought that walking around as a horse was the best plan."

"She's a magical creature. That might be her natural..." Loch started, then paused at cries from the crowd. She followed the pointing fingers and saw the ogres at the edge of the forest, a hundred yards distant. "Here we go."

Kail cracked his knuckles. "Sure about this, Captain? You know they're scared of fire. We could—"

"She's got this."

"She
being the magical creature that wants to look like a pointy-headed horse."

"The same, yes." Loch pointed at Merigan with her chin. "He had a dream last night. This is going to be okay."

She ignored Kail's muttered response as one of the ogres stepped out from the trees and came toward the village. He was nine feet tall, garbed in heavy furs, and he held a great staff set with bone teeth at either end. His skin was dark and leathery, and a pair of horns curled out from his head.

"Only one set of horns, and they don't even form a complete circle." Kail cocked his head. "He's practically a
kid."

Loch nodded. "Just like Merigan." The young man was walking forward as well, his sword held before him.

The ogre gestured at Merigan with his great staff and roared a challenge in his own tongue.

Merigan raised his sword. "For Woodsedge, I challenge you!"

The two figures met midway between the trees and the village. The ogre lifted its great war staff with a roar, and Merigan lunged in and swung his sword. The blow struck the ogre on the chest, glancing off his thick furs.

And with a barely perceptible pause, the ogre fell down, dropped his staff, and raised his hands in surrender.

"You are
kidding
me," Kail said under the villagers' cheers. "There wasn't even any
blood."

"Spirit of the thing, Kail." Loch smiled as Merigan raised his sword, then looked sharply off into the forest.

"I'm just saying, as someone who occasionally rigs fights, I'm offended by the lack of professionalism."

Instead of bringing his blade down for the killing blow, Merigan stepped back, still looking into the forest. Then he turned to the villagers and called out, "They have been defeated! And now that they know our strength, they will never threaten us again. Instead..." Merigan held out a hand. After a moment's pause, the ogre took it, and pulled himself back to his feet. "...we will have peace."

Loch and Kail were guests for the somewhat confused but still celebratory feast held in the village square. When it ended later that afternoon, they headed into the woods.

"Okay, so I think I get it," Kail said as they found an animal trail and lost sight of Woodsedge. "The villagers aren't afraid anymore, because they think the ogres have been beaten."

Loch noted several broken branches and followed the trail. "They'll probably get a fair amount of trade from the ogres as a result. Furs, rare herbs..."

"Right. Meanwhile, the ogres all know that the fight was rigged—poorly."

"Get over it, Kail."

"So they're just happy the humans aren't going to burn down the whole forest."

Loch paused, sniffed the air, and then pushed through the thick bushes ahead. "They also get access to fine metals through trade, along with a much better chance to hold onto their land, since the humans see them as trading partners and not savages."

"Granted. So what does your magical friend get out of this?" Kail asked.

"Two things." Loch spotted a clearing up ahead and pushed forward with a grin. "First, the woods she lives in and nurtures are free from conflict, and second... Did you notice that Merigan ducked out of the celebratory feast?"