There was one small problem. Through it all, nobody had thought to tell Gorge about Krog, so when the Lady Drule and her band showed up, shrieks and screams filled the hazy air and they found a This Place with no one in attendance except old Hunch, sitting on a rock.
Drule looked around in confusion. "Where Highbulp? Where ever'body go?"
"All run an' hide." Hunch shrugged.
"Why?"
"Dunno. Didn' say. Ever'body just holler an' run an' hide."
Impatiently, Drule set her fists on her hips, stamped her foot, and shouted, "Gorge! Where you?"
Here and there, shadows moved. From brushy crevices and piles of stone, faces peered out. The Highbulp's voice said, "Yes, dear?"
"What goin' on?" the Lady Drule demanded. "You playin' game?"
More of the gully dwarves peered from hiding places, all gaping at the towering Krog. "What that you got with you, dear?" the Highbulp called.
Drule looked up at the ogre, then turned toward the voice. "Nothin'! Just Krog! Stop fool 'round!"
Reassurance didn't come easily, but lapse of attention did, and soon the whole tribe was gathered.
Within an hour, they had stew on, and the Lady Drule handed a tureen to Gorge III. He sniffed, tasted, and proclaimed, "This superi… excep… pretty good stew! What in it?"
"Cave bear an' skinny green plant," she said. "An' mushroom an' tall-grass seed an' leftover bird nest."
He took another sip and nodded. "Good stuff. Best I… cave bear? Where get cave bear?"
Offhandedly, Drule pointed at the hulking Krog, who was waiting for the crowd around the stew pot to disperse so that he could finish the pot. "Krog get," she said. "Krog not much for hunt rats, but bash bears real good."
"Krog," the Highbulp said, scowling in thought as he studied the amiable monster. He hadn't really thought much about Krog since the first shock of encounter, but when he did, troubling notions tumbled around in his head. He glanced at Drule suspiciously. "Krog call you Mama," he said. "You been up to somethin', dear?"
"Krog lost, needed mama." She shrugged. "Keeps callin' me that."
"Oh." Gorge sipped at his stew, relieved but still troubled. "Dear, wha' happen to Talls at slave camp? Somethin' squash 'em?"
"Mostly Krog," she explained. "He got th' hang of bashin' Talls pretty quick. Had lotta fun."
"Hmph!" Gorge sat in thought for a time, then asked, "How you an' others find us?"
Again she pointed at the huge creature nearby. "Krog find place. Krog pretty handy have around, right?"
"Right." The Highbulp scowled. Tossing aside his empty tureen, he stalked away, sulking.
The Lady Drule stared after him, then beckoned the Grand Notioner. "Hunch, what wrong with Highbulp?"
"Highbulp?" Hunch shrugged. "Highbulp is Highbulp. That his main problem."
"What that mean?"
"Highbulp gotta be Highbulp alla time," he explained, puzzling it out as he went. "Gotta be big cheese, top turkey, main mullet, otherwise, no good be Highbulp."
"So what?"
"So now Krog big hero. Ever'body lookin' up to Krog. Not good for Highbulp. Steal his thunder."
The Lady Drule pondered, trying to understand. "Okay," she said finally. "What do about it, then?"
"Maybe Highbulp make Krog a knight," Hunch said simply, "like Tall kings do. Heroes real nuisance to kings, but if king make hero a knight, alla glory belong to king again."
"Oh," Drule concurred. "Okay" With renewed purpose, she strode to where the Highbulp was sulking and faced him. "Highbulp better knight Krog," she told him.
He frowned a puzzled frown. "What?"
"Knight Krog, then Highbulp be like a king, get glorious."
"Highbulp already glorious," he pointed out, then squinted at her. "Knight Krog good idea, huh?"
"Real good idea."
"Right," he decided. "Jus' what I was thinkin 'bout."
Gorge strode to the middle of the camp and raised his arms. "All pay attention! Highbulp got announ… proclam… somethin' to say!"
When he had their attention, he pointed at Krog. "Highbulp gonna… Ever'body! Stop lookin' at Krog! Look at Highbulp!"
When he had their attention again, he said, "Highbulp deci… conclu… make up mind to do Krog big honor, for — " he turned to Drule " — for what?"
"For be hero" she whispered. "For valor an' service. For be brave an'… an' bashful."
It was a bit complicated for the Highbulp. Turning back to his assembled subjects, he said, "For bein' a good guy, make Krog be Sir Krog. Krog!" he ordered. "Go over by big rock an' prost… recumb… hunker down real low."
With a nod from Drule, the big creature did as he was told. Kneeling before a boulder, he bent low enough that it was almost as tall as himself. Gorge walked around him, trying to remember what he had heard about knighting. He glanced at the huge club in Krog's hand and pointed at it. "What that?"
"Bashin' tool," the Lady Drule said. "Krog made it."
"Good," Gorge said. "Krog, give bashin' tool to Highbulp"
Hunkered low before the boulder, Krog turned his head, saw Mama's nod of approval and extended his club. The Highbulp took it and, when Krog released it, sat down hard with the club across his lap. It weighed almost as much as he did.
"Gonna need volunteers," the Highbulp muttered. He pushed the club away, stood and called, "You, Chuff. An' Bipp. An' Skitt, all come help."
Three sturdy young gully dwarves stepped forward. Gorge climbed to the top of the boulder and beckoned. "Bring bashin' tool up here."
Between them, the three managed to hoist the club and themselves onto the boulder, scattering dust from its top. Beside it, Krog wrinkled his nose, shook his head, and began to fidget.
"Hol' still, Krog," the Lady Drule told him.
With the Highbulp supervising, the three volunteers positioned the club above Krog's left shoulder.
Gorge drew himself up regally. "Krog, 'cause of exce.. unusu… for doin' good stuff, I dub you SIR KROG." To the volunteers, he said, "Dub Krog on shoulder now."
Falling dust tickled Krog's nose. He sneezed. A cloud of dust blew up around the boulder, blinding the dubbers. Bipp sneezed and lost his grip on the club, Chuff fell over backward, and Skitt, suddenly lifting the full weight of the thing, lost control of it. With a resounding thud, the club descended on the back of Krog's head.
For a moment there was a stunned silence, then Krog shook himself like an angry bear, raised his head… and the Highbulp found himself staring into a huge face that was no longer amiable. A growl like approaching thunder shook the slopes. Krog's once-innocent eyes brightened with a flood of returning memory — brightened and glittered with a killing rage.
"Uh-oh!" the Highbulp gulped. He turned, leapt from the stone, and shouted, "Ever'body run like crazy!"
Gully dwarves scattered in all directions, disappearing into the shattered landscape. Behind them, a mighty roar sent echoes up the mountainsides — the roar of an ogre unleashed.
Krog stood, picked up his club, and brandished it, roaring again. "Krog!" he thundered. "I am Krog! Not Krog Aghar! Krog Ogre! Krog!"
Seeing movement, he sped after it, his feet pounding. Beyond a shoulder of stone, he skidded to a stop. A female gully dwarf lay there, staring up at him in horror. "Krog?" she said.
Her voice — the remembered voice and the remembered face of the little creature — made him hesitate, and his hesitation angered him. For an instant he felt… soft. "Shut up!" he thundered. "I am Krog! Krog ogre!"
She blinked, and a tear glistened in her eye. "Krog… not want Mama anymore?"
"I am ogre!" he roared. "You… nothing to me!" Furious, he raised his club high, then hesitated as another small figure darted out of a shadowed cleft to face him, a little gully dwarf male with curly whiskers, the one they called Highbulp. The gully dwarf faced him with terror in its eyes and an elk tine in its hand, and again Krog hesitated.