Chapter 9: The Ogre

The other prisoners were no longer looking at Aven with hatred or disgust. Granted, the fear they now displayed wasn’t particularly better, but it was at least a different flavour of alienation. With Old Fox gone, all of the others steadfastly avoided him, apparently dreading the possibility of being chained with him.

Until the new zhagra ogre prisoner was brought out to join the group.

“We’ll see if you’re as strong as they say,” Erdrak shoved the new Zhagra into line. “You’ll be chained with the voidtouched.”

The zhagra gave Aven a small smile and spoke in his rumble of a voice, “Greetings. I am Logash. You?”

“Aven,” he offered the ogre a hand to shake. The responding grip was gentle, but Aven could feel a lurking strength behind it that could have crushed his hand in an instant. “Welcome to the hunt.”

“I have hunted before,” Logash softly chuckled. “Rarely voidspawn. Are we hunting with our hands?”

“They give us weapons,” Aven wondered whether the ogre was making or joke or if he fully intended to fight voidspawn barehanded. “One of us gets a spear and shield, the other gets an axe. Shields in front, axes behind.”

“I am thinking I will be in front,” the ogre chuckled again, taking a spear and shield as the guards passed the weapons out. He hefted the weapon. Proportional in most of their hands, it looked almost like a child’s toy in his. For most the prisoners, the spears were well above head-height. For Logash, the tip only reached his jaw. The shield too looked almost comically small in his hands. He looked to the guards, “You do not have bigger weapons?”

The woman guard passing out weapons gave him a wary glance, “You get what you’re given.”

“Such is life,” Logash replied.

“Careful around the voidtouched,” Ko’jan spoke up suddenly. “His last partner died.”

The beastkin still refused to meet Aven’s gaze. As did Veese now, the smaller ogre only glancing at Logash nervously.

“Many warriors who have fought alongside me have died as well,” Logash replied. “That does not mean we cannot work together.” He glanced back down at Aven, “I am thinking we will survive best working together.”

“That’s the plan,” Aven replied.

“Few plans survive fighting,” Logash said. “But we will try this one.”

“Move out!” Erdrak called, and any further opportunity for conversation ended.

* * *

Logash was, in a word, a titan on the battlefield. Where the days with Old Fox as his companion left Aven exhausted, bruised and beaten from the effort of standing against the voidspawn, with Logash in front Aven was left with little to do except clean up the scraps. The massive snow ogre was a veritable mountain, standing tall against the voidspawn that came at him. Even with the weapons unsuitable for his bulk, not a single voidspawn lay claw or fang on him. Any that came close were crushed under spear and shield.

That left Aven fresh to butcher the fallen creatures. Once again, he could wade into the black blood without fear while all the other prisoners carefully tried to avoid touching the voidspawn residue if at all possible. Between the two of them, they were the fastest killers and butchers of the company.

Not that their performance earned any favors from the guards. If anything, it pushed Erdrak to work them harder, placing them at the point of the formations against the voidspawn and demanding that Aven gather even more flesh and organs. Aven could feel the guard captain’s disappointment every time they emerged from the slaughter unharmed.

Logash was, as it turned out, a vis. Probably one of the 2nd circle, though the ogre refused to talk about his abilities in any depth. At the very least, he had a vis body stronger and hardier than any normal warrior, and drew further power from his soul. At least two domains, then. That by itself meant little (vis of the first circle could still have two domains, much as Aven held both the Battle Mind and voidtouched powers), but the ease with which Logash used his abilities certainly did. To Aven’s Battle Mind, Logash actually looked like he was restraining himself, holding something back even as he calmly drove the spear right through voidspawn skulls.

“Break,” Erdrak called out after the second pit was cleared and the voidspawn corpses collected.

The guards passed out the hardtack and unidentifiable mash of dried meat and vegetables that served as meals for the prisoners. Mixed and softened with water, it was...edible. After a fashion. Aven wondered how much of the mash actually included the meat of the very voidspawn they killed. Certainly tasted foul enough to include it.

Logash grimaced as he tried the food, “I thought myself old enough to stop having new experiences. This food is something I have never had the displeasure of experiencing before.”

“Oh, this place is a delight of new experiences,” Aven choked down his own portion before answering. “Have you had the chance for a ‘confessional’ with the Head Warden yet?”

“Ah, yes,” Logash grimaced and showed Aven the slash on his left hand, red against the blue-grey of his palm. “Having a piece of my soul ripped away was a new experience as well. Your empire is most inventive in its cruelties.”

“Not from Octarnis, then?”

“No,” Logash’s gaze turned northeast. “My tribe were called the Thunderhearts, and I have spent many years among the Guardians of the Oakenwood - though I suppose your people simply call all of us ‘barbarians’, do you not?”

“Oh yes,” Aven said. “Of course anyone who is not part of our glorious empire is an uncivilized brute, and we must forcibly conquer, pillage, and destroy to civilize you. Barbarians such as you are also, of course, so weak that you will inevitably fall before our great empire while simultaneously being so dangerous that your mere existence represents a threat even to the heart of the empire thousands of miles away.”

“Your tone,” Logash chuckled. “I think you are making a joke?”

“Joke about the glories of our empire? Never!” Aven replied with a smile.

“Your civilization,” the ogre mused. “You do not seem to have high opinions of it.”

“It is my culture,” Aven said. “My father was a true devotee of the Imperial Ideals. I learned my history well too - though my tutors might dispute that - so I can claim well to have intimate knowledge of the nature of our empire. It would be dishonest to hold any delusions about its true nature.”

“Do you think your empire a greater evil than the other peoples of the world?” Logash asked.

“I think we’re far more efficient in our evil,” Aven replied. “And more willing to commit it on a greater scale. What’s worse? One village burned or a hundred villages burned?”

Logash hummed softly, seeming deep in thought, “And your...Ideals? What are these? Do you not worship gods?”

“We are not a nation of gods, but principles,” Aven dutifully recited the lessons drilled into him since he could talk. “We follow Ideals, not idols.” He drew the symbols in the snow with one finger. The symbol of three parallel lines straight and unyielding - the rod, “Discipline.” A triangle point-down, symbol of the shield, “Courage.” The threefold cord, “Loyalty.” The plow and hammer, “Industry.” Two concentric circles, symbolizing outer and inner purity, “Piety.” The scales, “Justice.” The open eye, “Wisdom.” Two waves in alignment, “Harmony.” A tower, capped by the sun, “Ambition.” The flower, “Beauty.” The sword, “Truth.” The apple of delights, “Pleasure.”

Logash looked at the symbols curiously, “You hold these things the most important in your empire?”

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“In word, if not in deed,” Aven said. “Of course, not everyone follows each ideal. Most swear to follow two or three depending on their position. A soldier might follow Discipline and Courage. A farmer might swear to Industry and Harmony. Philosophers have debated for centuries which of the Ideals are ‘greater’ and ‘lesser’, which should be followed by nobility and which are proper for common citizens, which are appropriate for men or women to follow, and so on. One could find some priest interpreting the ideals just about any way conceivable.” He gave a wry grin, “Though I think our head warden is perhaps unique in all the Empire for his particular interpretations of Justice, Piety, and Discipline.”

Logash nodded along. The guards started to move, the captain shouting for the prisoners to get marching.

“I am wondering why you are here, Aven,” Logash asked as they started walking again. “I understand my own situation. It is common among my people to take prisoners in victory. Yet a member of the tribe would only be made prisoner if he committed some great dishonor.”

“Would killing one’s father be enough of a dishonor?” Aven asked.

Logash nodded slowly, face falling into a frown, “Yes. Slaying of kin is the highest dishonor.”

“Then a truly great sinner stands before you,” Aven said.

“And an equal before you,” Logash said softly.

Before Aven could ask what he meant, screams split the air as a voidspawn burst from the snow and seized one of the guards. Prisoners and guards scrambled back, weapons at the ready, as more voidspawn rose. Erdrak barked orders, waving frantically with one hand to urge the group into some semblance of formation, while the other hand lashed out to decapitate one of the voidspawn with a single blow.

Aven and Logash weren’t able to join up with the formation before the earth rumbled beneath their feet, and a voidspawn burst up from the snow beside them, lunging at Logash’s side. Aven dove into the Battle Mind, time slowing so he could get a good, hard look at the elongated body and many scrabbling limbs leading up to a head with four jagged pincers jutting from its maw.

The pincers widened, slavering mouth dripping black fluid. Too far away for his hatchet to reach.

Aven called to the void, and the void answered, shooting down his left arm. The veins blackened, and gashes opened to leak the black smoke that formed the clawed hand of the void. The hand struck out and caught the creature by the jaw before its teeth could reach Logash. Aven felt the pincers straining to close, but the claw held it back. Long enough for Logash to turn and spear it through the open mouth and the back of its skull. It twitched, pincers snapping closed on the spear haft in reflex, and when Logash kicked the twitching corpse away, the spear head tore away with it. The voidspawn slumped, body vanishing into a burrowed hole below.

“Bah,” Logash looked down at the snapped spear half, then flipped it around like a club. He glanced at Aven’s arm, still wreathed in the void’s power, “That is a good ability you have. You should use it more.”

Aven waved the arm, his flesh-and-blood arm burning like needle pricks where the void mist emerged from it, “Needs some practice.”

“We’ll have plenty,” Logash jerked his head towards the others, and they jogged forward best as they could, gaits awkward between the chains and their very different strides. Aven let Logash set the pace, focusing on matching it the best as he could, aided by the Battle Mind’s awareness.

Logash slammed into the side of one of the burrowers menacing a pair of prisoners, bashing it with the spear haft until the wooden pole cracked and splintered. Aven shaped the void into a fine point and pierced the voidspawn as easily as that same ability had pierced Father’s heart. At the same time, the prisoner’s spear pierced it as well, and the beast went down.

“Axe,” Logash held out his hand, and Aven flipped the axe around to hand it to the ogre without argument.

“Formation!” Erdrak roared, even as he skulked to the back of the crowd of prisoners, “Form a line, you fucking mongrels!”

A line facing the voidpit. Completely worthless when the burrowers emerged right beneath one a prisoner in the middle, the snow and earth collapsing right beneath the man as he fell with a scream.

“Fall back!” Erdrak ordered, spewing curses. “Back to Hellfrost!”

The guards backed away, archers firing at the visible voidspawn while they retreated. The line of prisoners hobbled after them, leaving behind the spoils of slaughtered voidspawn they’d already collected. Most of the prisoners didn’t even look back.

Aven found himself and Logash at the back of the group, the ogre’s eyes still sweeping the snow warily as the voidspawn burrowers slipped back into their holes. Ko’jan and Veese joined them at the back, guarding the retreat.

“The hell was that?” Aven asked.

“Never seen ‘em before!” Veese shouted back, voice high-pitched, nearly hysterical.

Ko’jan’s eyes remained on the snowy field, “Eighteen months here, and I’ve never seen these ones either.”

The void was brewing up fresh horrors then. Or old horrors were being revealed again.

“Fuck,” Veese mumbled, hands trembling on his axe. “They got six of us. Six. Horg was going to work off his debt and be released in just three months. Three fucking months. Bran was going to get us new shirts, trade ‘em with some of the quarry crew. Now they’re both dead. We’re all dead. We’re-”

The words never left Veese’s mouth. A burrower burst from the snow. A dozen feet away, body stretching fast as a striking snake to cover the distance. Too far away for even Aven’s hand of the Void. Too fast for Ko’jan to react.

The pincers snapped shut around Veese’s neck. His last scream choked on his own blood.

Ko’jan roared in anger, then shock as the burrower retreated back into its hole, dragging Veese in and Ko’jan with him. The beastkin scrabbled at the snow, struggling to find purchase.

Another smaller burrower burst from the snow beside the first, lunging at Ko’jan. The beastkin kicked out wildly with his free leg, and the pincers closed down on it, fangs sinking into his calf.

Logash was already moving, no hesitation in his stride. Aven couldn’t have stopped him if he tried, and instead, almost to his surprise, he found himself running alongside Logash. Even as fast as they could run, only the fact that each of Ko’jan’s legs was pulled separately kept the beastkin from being dragged under, the tension of chain on one leg and pincer on the working against each other as Ko’jan thrashed.

Aven went for the voidspawn clamped onto Ko’jan’s leg. He sharpened the edges of his hand of the void, turning it into a cleaving blade and hacking furiously. At the same time, Logash went for Veese’s leg, still sticking out of the burrower’s hole. Axe cleaved through flesh and bone, severing the leg. The rest of Veese vanished below.

Aven lost count of his slashes before the voidspawn’s head separated from its body, pincers still latched on. Logash seized the pincers, wrenching them apart.

“Fuck,” Ko’jan groaned, staring at the hole. “They got Veese.”

Aven grabbed his arm and hauled up. Unsuccessfully until Logash joined in on the other side, “They’ll get you too if we stay here. Move your ass.”

“They already did,” Ko’jan nodded down to his leg, even as the other two hauled him along. “Black blood’s in the wound. I feel it. Burns like hell.” He groaned, “I’m already dead. Leave me.”

“Don’t be so damn dramatic,” Aven pulled him along. “Not everyone dies from it.”

Ko’jan chuckled mirthlessly, “We can’t all be as lucky as you, kelta. I’m dead, or worse, I’ll lose my mind and be no better than a voidspawn.”

The group of prisoners and guards were still retreating. Except Erdrak. Apparently, the prospect of being punished for leaving Aven to die again was more terrifying to the ogre captain than the threat of the voidspawn.

“Leave that one,” Erdrak snarled as he stomped up to them. “He’s good as dead.”

“Not happening,” Aven said.

Erdrak raised his halberd, sun glinting off the blade. He thrust, right at Ko’jan’s chest.

Logash stepped forward and caught the blade in both hands. His grip tightened, and blood dripped from the blue-gray fingers, “The warden told you not to harm his prisoners. We will return together or not at all.”

Erdrak growled, hands tightening on the blade, “We leave behind any infected by black blood. Those’re the orders.”

Logash didn’t release his grip. His expression remained serene, but Aven could see a shift. The placid calm of the forest shifting, something else stirring.

He didn’t have time to analyze that, because Ko’jan was fucking heavy, and without Logash’s support, Aven couldn’t handle the weight.

They collapsed into the snow.

“Leave me,” Ko’jan said, eyes closing. “Or let Erdrak kill me. I’d rather died quickly than lose my mind to the void.”

A vindictive part of Aven whispered that the beastkin had left Aven to die. That Ko’jan’s current position was only justice for his previous inaction. That Aven could leave Ko’jan and be satisfied.

Aven ignored it.

The blood wounds on Ko’jan’s leg were smoking, the black blood reacting with flesh and mortal blood. Black veins were already spreading up on his leg, creeping upwards like roots spreading through the soil. When his hand of the void touched the wound, he could feel the taint of the void spreading. He could feel it, and he could touch it.

Aven sank the claws of his voidhand into Ko’jan’s wound. The beastkin howled in pain, but Aven ignored the protests. He grasped the poison, seized the void that was infecting the man, and he pulled. The spread halted. Then reversed. Slowly at first, the veins receded back to the original wound. The black blood seeped out, turning to mist and absorbed into Aven’s hand.

By the time he finished, there was no sign of the void’s blight in the wound. Just raw, bloody flesh

“What in the gods’ names did you just do?” Ko’jan’s eyes went wide.

“I pulled the black blood out,” Aven said, trying to appear confident. He turned to Erdrak, who had paused in his struggles with Logash to stare, “He’s going to be fine, as long as we treat the wound properly. He’s a strong prisoner, right? Can you really afford to let a vis die?”

Erdrak’s lip curled in a snarl, but he pulled the halberd free and gestured to two of the guards, “He lives. For now. Bandage the leg and carry him.”

The guards took Ko’jan, and Aven staggered to his feet.

Erdrak turned back and punched Logash in the face, sending the larger ogre sprawling to the ground.

The captain stood over him, fangs bared, and eyes burning with rage, “The next time you get in my way, you will be food for the voidspawn, and no one is going to stop me. That’s a godsdamned promise.”

“Of course,” Logash replied. He didn’t sound angry. Or rather, he sounded like he was putting every ounce of energy he had into restraining his anger. “As you say.”

Erdrak snarled and turned away. Aven offered Logash a hand to help him up, for all the good that Aven could do helping someone of his size. The ogre’s blood mingled with the black blood staining Aven’s hands.

Logash stood, and they followed Erdrak. Six more prisoners and two guards dead. But they were still alive.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *