‘Don’t be silly, Dog,’ said Grim, trying not to get irritated with him.
‘Quiet a second,’ said Og. ‘I thought I heard something.’
Og-Grim-Dog stayed silent, three pairs of ears listening to the sounds of the swamp.
‘Is that…singing?’ Grim asked at last.
‘Sounds like it,’ Dog agreed.
‘Maybe Brother Kane has arrived?’ Og suggested. ‘It probably wouldn’t take him much longer to walk here as it does for the goblins to deliver Raya’s letter.’
‘Have you ever known Brother Kane to sing?’ Grim asked him. ‘Come on, let’s investigate.’
The ogre crawled back out of their house and began to search for the origin of the singing. Sound could carry strangely in the swamp and it took them a good while to locate the direction it came from. But in the end Grim found himself trudging through a cypress wood, the singing getting louder as he did so. He had got used to wading through water in the last few weeks. His feet weren’t in great shape: the wet and mud had taken their toll and he now insisted that Og and Dog carefully dry them every time they returned to their house, to keep away infection.
‘There,’ said Dog, pointing.
Ahead, following a winding path across a patch of land that poked out of the water, was an animal. To be precise, a donkey. It was singing a cheerful tune. Singing it very badly.
‘Well,’ said Og after a while. ‘Have you ever heard of a magical talking donkey before?’
‘Can’t say that I have,’ said Dog. ‘Come on, Grim. Let’s catch up to the little fellow.’
Back at their house under the tree stump, Og-Grim-Dog felt a little better about life. A warm fire and a hot meal can cheer most people up, ogres included.
‘Here ya go, Grim,’ Dog said, offering him a spitted chunk of chargrilled meat. ‘Donkeys are usually quite tough, but that little fellow turned out to be very tasty. Must be the magical talking part of him that adds the flavour.’
A Way Out
Brother Kane arrived in the swamp the next day. There was enough donkey left over to offer him lunch, but the cleric repeatedly explained that he had brought his own provisions with him.
They sat down to eat and after a while Brother Kane gave Og-Grim-Dog one of his beatific smiles.
‘I didn’t come here solely as a social call,’ the cleric explained.
‘Oh yeah?’ asked Og, his mouth still full.
‘I heard about your situation and I couldn’t help thinking that I could offer you a solution to it.’
‘Well, we’re all ears to any thoughts you may have,’ said Grim. ‘Truth is, we’ve got ourselves stuck in a bit of a rut here. Finding it hard to find a path out.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Brother Kane. ‘Now, what I’m about to tell you is between you and me and must stay that way. If you feel unable to keep what I say in confidence, then I will simply stop right here and now, say no more of it, and no offence taken.’
The brothers shared a look. ‘We can keep a secret, Brother Kane,’ Og said, speaking for them. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Excellent. Now, this may come as a bit of a shock. I haven’t been honest, either with you or anyone else in Mer Khazer. The truth is, I am evil. I am under orders to infiltrate the dungeoneering community in Mer Khazer, while posing as a goodly priest.’
‘I knew it!’ cried Dog excitedly. ‘What did I tell you?’ he crowed.
‘Well,’ said Grim. ‘Dog did guess as much, but you certainly fooled me and Og and everyone else. So, your visits to the orphanage; the old people’s home?’
‘Part of my cover. I don’t really like children very much.’
‘I see. And whose orders do you follow?’
‘Well, this is the point. I work for the Dark Lord, as one of his henchmen. He aims to spread his influence across Gal’azu. And so, to my solution. You, Og-Grim-Dog, would make an excellent henchman. I’m sure a three-headed ogre is just the kind of character that the Dark Lord would welcome with open arms. And precious few others have been welcoming to you. My suggestion is that you travel to the Dark Lord’s stronghold and ask to serve him. I can’t promise anything with complete certainty, but I am sure that if you explain that I sent you, you will be found a place in his service. Here, I have a map that has his secret location on it.’
The cleric pulled a piece of parchment from his travelling sack and offered it. Dog took it without hesitation.
‘I know you will want to think about the idea and discuss it amongst yourselves. Well,’ he added, getting to his feet, ‘if I leave now, I can return to the town before the sun sets. Good luck, whatever you decide to do. Here, let me give you a blessing.’
Og-Grim-Dog allowed the priest to flick his vial of water into their faces, and then he was gone.
‘Well,’ said Grim, feeling the need to say something, though he wasn’t sure what.
‘I’m not happy about turning to the dark side,’ Og stated.
‘What other options do we have?’ asked Dog, studying the map that Brother Kane had given them. ‘Here’s the stronghold,’ he said, jabbing a thick finger at the map. ‘The least we can do is go and find out what he might offer us.’
Grim could feel an argument brewing. As usual, he would find himself in the middle of it and have the deciding vote. But this time, he already knew which way he was going to lean. They needed to get out of this swamp, and Brother Kane’s proposition was the only one they had.
Og-Grim-Dog left the swamp behind them. Grim was pleased that his feet would now be spared further wading through the damp bog. But instead, his legs had to carry them a long way, to the other end of Gal’azu.
When they travelled in the Great Outside, Og and Dog covered their heads, so that they drew as little attention to themselves as possible. Grim had to be careful about the routes to take. They would be treated with hostility virtually everywhere they went, and they really didn’t want to be diverted into a conflict or chased from one place to the next. So, they moved cross-country, avoiding settlements and well-used paths; when they stopped, they would take turns at keeping watch, moving on if they were the slightest bit concerned that they had been observed.
The closer they came to their destination, the more remote and wild the land about them became. It was barren and rocky, and Grim increasingly found it hard going. In the end, he decided to take a road that seemed to lead them in exactly the right direction.
‘Why is this Dark Lord’s stronghold located as far from anywhere else as possible?’ Dog grumbled from inside his sack on the fourth day. ‘What’s the sense in that?’
‘Perhaps he’s thinking about safety?’ Grim suggested. Honestly, he didn’t really care much about what the reasons might be, but since Og was fast asleep on his other side, he felt obliged to answer his brother’s question. After all, Dog carried the map, and it would be a right pain if he fell into one of his moods.
‘You’d have thought,’ Dog responded, ‘that if you were intent on taking over the world, you’d start off in a more convenient location.’