Following these dents, Roel spurred to a gallop, and soon the impressions came some fifteen or twenty feet apart, for Roel now rode along the track where the Ogre had been loping.
As he came in among the crags, Roel cocked and loaded his crossbow, and on into the rock-laden land fared the knight. Yet the ground was stony, and he had to slow to a walk, for he would not have any of the horses lamed.
And the easy tracks vanished, and now Roel had to follow traces where the Ogre’s feet had turned up rocks, leaving fresh hollows behind, or the dark of stones where they had long lain with one side unseen by the sun but now were flipped over and exposed.
In places he had to dismount and cast about for spoor. He found an impression here, and an overturned slab there, and a slip of sand yet faintly trickling down.
He was nigh in tears, and he cursed at the slowness of his progress, and his heart hammered in dread for his beloved, for the tales told that Ogres were man-eaters.
With his mind racing ’round all of the terrible things that might be visited upon her, Roel walked forward, his crossbow in hand, the horses plodding after.
And then he lost the track altogether.
Celeste came groggily awake as the Ogre reached into a stony crevice and pushed a great boulder in and aside to expose a cavern beyond. As she began regaining her full senses, she tried to get up from the ground and flee, but the moment she lurched to her feet, the monstrous being took her up, and on one hand and his knees, he crawled into a vast chamber beyond. He set her down and rolled the huge stone back into place.
Light leaked in ’round the edges of the boulder, but Celeste saw that the crevices were too small for her to squeeze through. The cavern itself was lit with a reddish glimmer from embers somewhere within. In the dull scarlet gloom, Celeste heard a striker scrape, and then the glow from a large lantern filled the place. A huge chair and table loomed up in the shadows nigh the center of the lit chamber. Against one stone wall stood an enormous bed, and thereon a monstrous straw mattress and a jumble of blankets lay awry. A massive chest rested at the foot of the bed. Some thirty or so feet out from the opposite wall of the cavern sat an open-pit fireplace, ruddy embers within, and in the stone ceiling high above a jagged crevice acted as a smoke hole. Nearby lay shattered tree limbs and broken logs of oak, birch, maple, cherry, walnut, and the like with which to feed the fire. Beyond lay a clutter of splintered bones from meals long past. Great copper pots and pans sat on an immense sideboard, along with huge utensils-knives, spoons, cleavers, and such. In midchamber a stone ring marked a wide well; a large bucket and a long rope testified to water below.
Celeste shook her head to dispel the dregs of her muzziness. The last thing she remembered was being snatched up by the heels just as she emerged from the twilight boundary, and there was a painful lump on the back of her skull, where it had hit the ground. She was sore ’round her waist, and there the rope was yet cinched. She discovered the line had been broken off short, with no more than ten feet remaining. The Ogre must have snapped the rope in two when he found I was tied to someone or something. Ah, when I was grabbed, Roel was yet- Roel! Is he-? Did the Ogre-?
The Ogre hung the lantern on a wall hook and then turned and leered down at her and rumbled, “Give up all hope, for your companion will not find you here.” My companion. That must mean Roel is yet safe.
Quickly, Celeste took stock. No bow, empty quiver, but wait, I yet have my long-knife; even so, what can such a small pick do against this monstrous foe. .?
She looked up at the huge creature. He was hairy and unkempt, and he had a beard that reached down to his belt. Some of his teeth were missing, and those that were left were stained a scummy green. His breath smelled rancid, and it was clear he hadn’t had a bath in months, if ever. “Why have you taken me hostage?” demanded Celeste.
“Hostage?” he boomed. “Ha! I want no hostage.”
“Has a witch anything to do with this?”
“Witch?” The Ogre’s eyes widened, and Celeste thought she caught a glimpse of fear within. “What have you to do with a witch?”
Celeste frowned. If he is a friend of Hradian, or Nefasi, then he might turn me over to one of them. But if he is a foe, then he might aid me. On the other hand, he might slay me outright just for knowing their names.
Mayhap I should remain silent as to the acolyte sisters.
“I wondered if you were the thrall of a witch,” said Celeste.
“Thrall? Me?” sneered the Ogre. “I, Lokar, am no one’s thrall.”
“Then why have you taken me prisoner?” Celeste demanded. “If it is for ransom, then-” The Ogre roared in laughter. “Ransom? Pah! I want no ransom.”
“Then why?”
“To be my servant, my slave.” But then Lokar’s eyes filled with puzzlement. “Wait. Your voice is high-pitched.” He leaned down for a clearer look. “Ah, in spite of your clothes, you are no man, but a woman instead.” Again he roared in laughter and said, “You will be my wife!”
“Your wife?”
The Ogre nodded. “To cook and sew and keep the cavern clean, and to sing to me. . and pleasure me in other ways as well.”
Disgust filled Celeste’s face. “Pleasure you in other ways?”
Lokar reached under his hides and grabbed at his crotch and joggled his hand. “Here.” Celeste turned away in revulsion. But then her eyes widened in horror. Mithras! His manhood will split me in twain. I’ve got to find a way to escape.
“Cook for me while I rest,” Lokar harshly commanded. “After I eat, you can then pleasure me.” I must find a way out. And to do that I need to delay.
— Wait! The fire. Smoke. Perhaps Roel will see. Then she looked at the wood and despaired. Oh, no. Hardwoods.
Clean-burning hardwoods.
In spite of her desolation, “I will need pots and pans and the makings for whatever you wish to eat,” said Celeste, bidding for time.
“Bah, there is already stew in the cauldron. All you need to do is stir it.”
“Then set it on the fire and give me the ladle,” said Celeste.
Among the crags Roel wound in an ever-widening spiral, or as close to a spiral as he could manage, for ridges and bluffs barred the way. ’Twas midafternoon and still he had found no sign of tracks, but for those he and his horses made. Roel looked up and about. The Ogre could have stepped straight over some of these ridges and gone another way. Think, Roel, think! Which way would he have gone? Which way? — Wait! Go back to the last known trace of him and cross over yourself.
Roel returned to a place where a slope of sand had been disturbed, the trickle of its slide now long spent.
He looked up at the ridges on each side of the rocky slot and decided that one of them was low enough for the monstrous being to step across. Leaving the horses, Roel climbed up the fold and down the other side.
Sweeping back and forth across the stony floor beyond, at last he came to a recently overturned rock.
Quickly he climbed back over the slope and down, and he took his mount by the reins, and he led the animals back to a low dip in the fold.
“The last wife I had knew how to give me joy. She would cover herself and my stiff pole with oil, and she would embrace it and. .”
Celeste tried to shut out Lokar’s voice as he sickeningly regaled her with how she was to “pleasure” him.
Her thoughts were desperate: I’ve got to find a way to escape. But how? Oh, Roel, where are you?