A Wee Spot of Bother with an Ogre
by Malcolm Laughton

Soroth, sweating profusely, shifted his weight uneasily in the wooden cage that hung by a chain. The cage swung slightly and the wooden bars creaked. But the ogre slept on, snoring through his muckle nostrils, the hairs from which might have served to sweep the filthy floor. The snoring was loud but comforting. Whilst the ogre slept, Soroth was spared his gluttonous leer. Soroth had been reluctant to move lest he wake Gamlugh. But he got sore staying in the one position. Not that there was much room left to move in. And it was hot, even though Soroth was unclad but for a swaddling band. He had outgrown his clothes long past, and now his once athletically muscular body was wrapped in rolls of fat. He wished Gamlugh had not made the fire so hot. Even in the vastness of the great hall of the beast’s castle, the fire was big enough to heat the air oppressively. Over the fire sat a cauldron in which he could hear fat bubbling. And the place stank too. Soroth, for all his months of captivity, had never got used to it. Grease and blood. Suddenly Soroth chilled. What was Gamlugh boiling fat for? He had seen Gamlugh fry men live in that cauldron, but today there were no other captives. It could not be so soon! There must be more time! Soroth was tired of his imprisonment but still he feared the ogre’s final attentions. Gamlugh always cooked his meat live. It was the roasting spit Soroth had feared most, but now he thought the cauldron worse.

He struggled in his cage. This time Gamlugh, spluttering mucus and spittle, wakened. And rising he turned and approached. His voice was soft –

‘Here now, bonny one, what frightens ye? Gamlugh’s here to comfort ye.’

Had Soroth attended to the voice only he might have thought that the creature had come to feel concern, even affection, for its captive. But one look into Gamlugh’s face dispelled any such notion. Soroth saw the mouth gape hungrily. There were the front set of razor teeth each one the size of a long dagger, but more terrible still were the great bone grinders behind. And then the stink of the creature’s breath hit him, like rotting pork. Then there were the eyes. They leered greedily into Soroth’s. He trembled, and the cage shook and the metal chain squealed as it moved.

Gamlugh’s fat hand reached for the cage pin. Was this it then? Soroth closed his eyes tight, like a child. He felt himself defecate and pass water. He pulled his head back until his neck hurt.

A horn sounded.

A small hope kindled in Soroth. A horn sounding usually intimated a visitor, and the only persons likely to visit the ogre were stupid knights trying their luck. At any rate Gamlugh turned away and said –

‘Yon sparrow-piping whistle sounds like Gamlugh’s got a guest. I’ll go and fetch it for the pot.’ And with this he departed.

Soroth relaxed a little bit. More time was bought. But his mood was morose. He had been strong and brave once, now he was a fat man in a cage who dirtied himself with fear. Aye, he would have a little more time, but it would be stolen with the life of some other. These past months he had sat in this cage, and flattered the ogre, and got him to fetch delicacies to sweeten Soroth’s own flesh – all to buy time. He looked down below at the empty oyster shells, from which he had lately eaten, and sighed. He remembered and regretted taking King Alexander’s offer of a purse of gold in return for the ogre’s head. He had been so very confident when he had ridden from Scotland into the Elder Lands – through the borders where the gloaming lingered.

Approaching footfalls disturbed this weary musing. Gamlugh entered followed by a man. Soroth recognised him. Canrin was his name.

Canrin followed the ogre into the hall. For all its vastness, it seemed to press in on him from all sides. It was the atmosphere, he thought. Hot, close and clammy. And it stank. Smells of butchery and cooking and human waste. He looked about him. To his right lay two huge hounds chained to the wall. They slept, as if sated with feeding. He turned left. There hung a line of cages all empty bar one, and in that one was a man who looked back at him with eyes of despondency and disdain. Canrin thought he had seen him before, but he could not place him. Canrin felt disheartened by all this, but it was the ogre himself that was worst. He had a big head set upon a neck that was as thick, as the head was broad. Both seemed too large for the body, but the body too was muckle big. His torso was clad in strong, leathern plate. Still he, Canrin, must not falter so soon.

Canrin spoke –

‘Do ye no recognize me cousin?’

‘What Shumlugh? Ach, ye are nothing like him.’

‘I mean your cousin of seven removes.’

‘Seven removes? I ken all such cousins, ye are none of these.’

‘I meant seven times seven removes from your seventh removed cousin, come to pay a visit. What do ye still no ken your own kin?’

The ogre raised a big hand before his fat face and proceeded to count his fingers, stopped, began again, looked a little confused, and said –

‘If cousin ye be, then cousin ye are. So sit down cousin.’ The ogre gestured to a tree stump that served as a stool, with an oaken table before it. Sir Canrin climbed upon the stool. His legs dangled and he could barely see over the top of the table. ‘Ye are very wee for an ogre,’ said Gamlugh.

‘Aye, I’m but a boy.’

‘A boy – a babe! And what’s that slung over your back’ said Gamlugh pointing to Canrin’s two-handed sword.

‘Why yon’s my carving knife.’

‘Ach, a mere tooth pick!’ and the ogre threw back his head and laughed. Then he eyed Canrin awhile.

‘Why do ye stare so cousin?’

‘That’s uncanny,’ said the ogre, ‘for one so young I think I see some silver hairs upon your head.’

‘No silver – blond.’

‘Yet most of it’s black!’

‘Och, my father was dark, my mother fair, I take more after my father.’

‘Hmm,’ remarked Gamlugh who fell into a muse for a moment then added ‘aye ye be the son of Goppenlugh and Loppinlugg.’

‘My dear and doting parents.’

‘Aye, now I see the semblance, and how are they?’

‘Oh very well, they dine daily upon dainty knights.’

‘Ah knights! Tasty food. Poor Shamlugh needs make do with peasant meat. Scrawny peasants fed on oats and barley. Aye, but knights, fed on red meat – too few come here now. I had hoped when I spied you, aye but no matter cousin I have one over yon.’ The ogre thumbed in the direction of the cage. ‘I’ve been fattening him all of three moons. Ye don’t know how hard it is to deny oneself; just looking at him fills my mouth with spit. Look how pink and juicy his flesh glows in the fire’s heat. How plump and ready he is. Soon he’ll burst his cage. I had thought of keeping him a wee while longer, but now I have a guest I’ll break open the cage this very instant.’

‘With that?’ Canarin pointed to an axe that lay against a wall.

‘No, no that’s for felling trees.’

‘It’s the biggest broadest axe I’ve ever seen. My father has an axe but nothing the likes of yon!’

The ogre beamed with pride. His smile ran along a ridge of oily teeth, and the muscles of his thick neck tautened. ‘I fell oak trees with it, in single strokes. Do ye no want to try its weight?’

‘Ye’re way too generous a host!’

‘No, no try it, here hold it.’

Canrin did his best. He could not get a single hand round its haft, but between the two he managed a grip of sorts.

‘Look at his wee baby hands,’ said Gamlugh with cousinly affection. ‘How do ye find it?’

‘A wee bit big, I can’t get a right sense of it, I am so short.’

‘Step upon that stool.’

Canrin with some difficulty did so. ‘I’m still a wee bit low.’

‘Step upon the table, here I’ll help ye.’ The ogre offered his hand, which Canrin, balancing the axe against his other shoulder, took and stepped up upon the table.

‘Och,’ cried Canrin, ‘what is that upon the floor, a foot or two to the right? It looks like a pair of sinister eyes that stare up at ye!’

‘What?’ cried the ogre, ‘where?’

‘A wee bit further over.’

‘I cannot see them.’

‘Look down a wee bit closer.’

‘I think I see something. Are they the eyes of the witch Oroch, or the wizard Toroch? Och, why can’t witches and wizards leave poor Gamlugh alone? The ogre visibly shook with fear, but then relaxed. ‘No, I cannot see them cousin.’

‘Very evil looking. They stare right at ye. My eyes are young, I see them plain. Ye must bend a wee bit more. Aye just so.’

‘No there is noth...’ The axe fell and the ogre’s head sprung off his neck with a gush. Canrin dropped the axe and stepped down from the table, proud of a deed so handsomely done. But his expression turned to one of fright when the severed ogre-head looked up at him and said –

‘Ye’re no cousin, no – nor any ogre. Ye’re a man, and I’ll eat ye.’

Canrin heard a rush of air from behind him. He ducked the clutch of the ogre’s arms. And Canrin was chased round and round the table by the headless ogre-body, and at every turn the body gained. But then the knight slipped on blood and stumbled against the great head, catching a lug. ‘Ouch!’ cried the head; and for an instant the body stopped – then started again for Canrin. As it neared, Canrin kicked the head hard. ‘Ouch’, and again ‘ouch.’ And as long as he kept kicking, the body stood still.

He effected a plan. He started to kick the head toward the roaring fire. Each big kick moved the head but an inch or so. And, as Canrin tired, it was a race whether the head was in the fire, or Canrin caught. Step by step the ogre gained, until Canrin knew he had but one good breath left. He stopped, at the great cauldron of bubbling fat, and drew that last deep breath. He stooped down and grabbed the head by the lugs, and dropped it into the fat. It gurgled down, and fat spat up. Canrin staggered back, gasping to regain his breath. The creature’s body ran up to the cauldron and clambered in after its head. Moments later it clambered back out; and holding its head by the locks, swung it up onto its neck. Then the creature, lathered in fat, turned to Canrin and lunged, but Canrin was too fast. He dove toward the twisting fire and pulled out a burning stick which he flung at the ogre. The ogre flamed hair to toe. Canrin stood back, shielding himself from the heat. The room stank of roasting flesh. The knight noticed that the hounds had awoke, and the sound of their barking was maddening. The beasts strained upon their chains, their mouths chopping the air.

As Canrin stood there – he heard over the racket –

‘That’ll no do.’

Canrin turned and saw that the voice came from the man in the cage. ‘That’ll no harm him.’

‘Can ye no perceive how he burns?’

‘Severing his head did no harm, neither will the flame. Loose his hounds.’

‘What would ye have me attacked by those demons?’

‘They love roast meat and dripping – loose them.’

‘But...’ Canrin paused to stare at the burning ogre. The ogre took a step forward. Canrin ran to the bolt that fixed the dogs’ chains and pulled it. The dogs fell upon the burning figure. ‘No Taragh, no Faragh, good dogs, no!’ Then the ogre screamed a long long scream, which finally fell into a silence over which the greedy feeding of the hounds reigned. And the dogs fed and fed until there was no flesh left. Not a scrap. Then they broke the bones in their great jaws and sucked the red-hot marrow. Then they crushed the bone and swallowed that too, and there was not a splinter left. Finally, exhausted and full, they fell into sated slumber.

‘Quick Canrin, slay them before they wake and start on us. Cut off their heads.’

‘Will that slay ogre dogs?’

‘Aye.’

‘But...’

‘Just do it – while there’s time. Quick.’

‘I think I’ll never be able to lift that axe a second time.’

‘What’s yon thing on your back?’

‘What! Where?’

‘Your sword, ye dafty.’

‘Och, of course.’ Canrin drew the blade and struck off the dogs’ heads.

‘Now if ye would help me out of this cage.’

‘Aye of course, but how?’

‘Pull the pin and the bottom will fall away.’

Canrin plucked the pin and the man fell to the floor where he rolled awhile trying to rise. Canrin helped him up.

The each of them faced the other. They both panted, the one from his effort in running, the other from his effort to stand. Then one spoke.

‘Soroth’s my name. I’ve seen ye before, but now I’m very glad indeed to speak to ye.’

‘Likewise. I mind ye now, but ye are so very...full. How did ye ken to loose the dogs?’

‘Och I’ve seen them feed before. Nothing, not even the length of Hell, would keep them from their meat. Na, no even loyalty to their master.’

‘But how did ye ken they’d kill the ogre, when beheading and burning both failed?’

‘I didn’t, but we had to try something. Still it’s done the job well enough. Would ye not say so?’

‘And how to slay the ogre dogs?’

‘Och, they’re not ogres. Just dogs. A wee bit more fierce than most, but dogs just the same, and like most beasts they can’t last long without their heads.’

Soroth stood awhile looking at Canrin. His face took on an expression of amusement. ‘Did ye not half look daft being chased round and round yon table?’

‘I looked daft? What did ye look like dangling fat in yon cage, with swaddling bonds on ye?’

‘I outgrew my clothes. And how did ye expect to slay the ogre when so many bonny men have failed? Even me’

‘But I did kill him.’

‘With my assistance.’

‘Aye I’ll not stint on gratitude, but how, for one so very clever, did ye find yourself in yon cage?’

‘Fair question. Well, like yourself, I daresay, I reckoned that I would use wit rather than brawn. My plan was to get inside the creature’s reach and, upon finding a gap in the leather plates of his armour, to push my blade into the creatures vitals and jump away to watch him die.’

‘I’m sure none struck upon such ingenious a scheme before.’

‘Och, it might surprise you to hear that your trick had been tried before, Gamlugh fell for it every time. But anyway, I’m quick and accurate with my blade and my thrust is deadly strong, and I met with some success.’

‘Enough to put yourself in yon cage.’

‘It was an uncanny fight my friend. The ogre was armed with a wood-and-bronze mace, I with shield and broadsword. He was quick for his size, but seemed slow to land a heavy a blow. He wished to catch me live, I suppose. And so we danced a dreary dance until at last I saw my chance, a gap between the leather plates where a thrust might cut the creature’s heart. I did so thrust, and I swear my thrust was true. So I darted back to watch him die. For a little while our eyed locked. I saw no fear of death in his, but I think he saw that very fear in mine. Then he looked down at his chest. Only the pommel of my sword stuck out. He put down his mace, and with the fingernails of thumb and forefinger, delicately took hold of the pommel and drew out the blade. I turned and ran like mad.

‘I got a head start, but soon I heard his footfalls behind, and I heard him close on me. But I gained my horse and, cutting his tether with my knife, mounted and rode hard from the castle gate. My horse was fast but the ogre chased me close behind, and I felt the pant of his breath hot upon the back of my neck. But my horse proved itself his better and soon I heard him fall behind, and a little while after I think he stopped. We sped on, out through the gloaming and into our Kingdom of Scotland. Even then, many was the mile before my horse got rest.

‘When my horse finally rested, I climbed a hill and looked far behind. And nowhere, to the remote horizon, did I catch hint of the monster. I rested only as long as it took my horse, before setting off again. We rode at a canter through day and through night. Then we rode a little less hastily, but naer tarrying long until the miles between the ogre’s castle and we were very many. And each night I would enquire, at whatever inn I stayed, whether any had heard tell of Gamlugh. And at each his fame lessened. And so I made my way across the breadth of Scotland, and it was only when I came to the port of St. Andrews that I found an inn where, though they knew of sea maidens and serpents, they kenned nothing at all of ogres. This pleased me exceedingly and I thought I would tarry awhile to eat and drink to my fill. And so I did, and I told the locals my tale of how I had escaped the worst ogre in the world. I was the very centre of attention that late afternoon as I supped the full dark ale they bought me. And as I drank I felt safe, except that, when the salt air of the sea blew in, I was reminded of the smell of blood.

‘But, in time, there came a loud and ominous noise thumping at the inn door. And all my company looked toward it. A moment later door, doorframe and part of the wall burst in, and there stood the ogre leering at me. My company fled to the furthest wall as the ogre tramped toward me, grabbed me, slung me over his shoulder, and brought me hither to cage me so.

‘And what brought ye here Canrin? A desire for fame? The goodness of a heart willing to rid poor peasants from persecution? Service to our king?’

‘All these, but also I heard say there was some treasure.’

‘Aye that’ll be the main reason.’

‘No at all, but it did feature a wee bit.’

‘It’s the main reason with most, it was with me.’

‘And is there such a treasure?’

‘Och, I am sure that’s the case, I heard the ogre mention it often. He boasted he started collecting it as a boy, and that was a thousand years ago. Will we share it? We’ve both earned it, say fifty-fifty?’

‘For my own part I would, but the treasure is promised to the king and my share is ten percent. Or in the case of there being no treasure he will reward me for taking the ogre’s life with a very ample purse of gold. I’d happily split either with ye.’

‘It was a purse of gold I was promised. But as for treasure, well I dare say we would need the king’s horses and carriages to move it all, and a twentieth of such a treasure will be a fortune.’

‘A deal then?’

‘A deal.’

The two shook hands and swore an oath upon the holy steel. Then, with Soroth now in borrowed plaid, they set about their search – and, taking torches with them, followed broad spiral staircases into the bowels of the castle. Deeper and deeper into the shadows they went, until they came to a winding passage with many doors. They went to the first and looked within. White gleamed in the flicker of torch light.

‘Bones,’ said Soroth, ‘aye, and I bet I ken what’s behind all those other doors.’ They tried all the doors anyway, and did indeed find the same. They even rummaged among some bones ‘just in case.’ After some wearisome hours Soroth said –

‘What escapes me is – what has he done with all the gear? I had a fine shirt of mail and a good sword when I came here, some others were poor as paupers, but some were clad in plate head to toe. Where can he have put it all?’

‘At any rate,’ said Canrin, ‘it seems we must settle for the purse.’

The two started their way heavily up the staircase but as they neared the top something made them stop. A chill ran through them both.

‘Was that a dog howling?’ said Soroth.

‘Two – I think,’ said Canrin. ‘Perhaps after all we’re lost.’

‘And after such hazards! Still, perhaps? Quick lets run to them.’

‘I think I see your plan.’

‘Hurry then.’ And the two of them ran back to the hall as fast as legs could carry, and looked before them. Two sets of devilish eyes looked back at them, each set seemed to have something of the look of the ogre in them. The severed dogs’ heads howled and barked in a fury, and at each howl and bark the bodies twitched.

‘It must be the ogre’s blood that’s done it,’ said Soroth. If your breath’s back follow me.’ Soroth ran to one of the bodies and grabbed an end, Canrin the other. They lifted it and chanted ‘ane, twa, three’ and flung it into the fire. They did the same for the other. The heads were next. They snapped and snarled and tried to savage the knights, but could not make good their bite. Into the fire they went.

The knights watched the dogs burn. Soon the stench of burning dog hair and flesh filled their minds, but moments later their eyes were drawn by a complex movement of the flames. The movement became more and more violent until two fiery dogs leapt out and fell upon each other. They tore at each other’s flesh, ripping strips away and greedily devoured every scrap. They fixed each other by the tail and ran round and round taking bites each of the other. There was less and less of them until only the mouths chewed each upon the other, and then tooth gnawed on tooth until not one mote was left.

‘I think we’ve seen the last of them,’ said Soroth, a little more confidently than not.

‘Aye, I dare say. Difficult to see what could rise up from yon.’

‘Aye, reckon we’re safe.’

‘Aye.’

The two stood awhile listening and looking about them with suspicion, but all they saw were stone walls, and all they heard was the wind in the trees outwith the castle’s walls. As they suffered nothing else untoward they decided that all was safe, and so it proved to be. They congratulated each other several times, though each with the odd disparagement thrown in. They then decided to search the whole castle, if not for treasure at least for the ogre’s victims gear, and search they did until from the highest turret Canrin pointed down into the moat –

‘See ye yon glint or glimmer down in those murky waters?’

‘Aye, but be it glint of silver or steel?’

‘Steel I believe.’

‘Aye a sword blade, but too far under to dream of easy recovery.’

‘Aye, alas, there’ll be a thousand years of rust under there.’

And so, presently empty handed, but brim full of happiness for their lives and friendship, they left the castle. Glad to have seen each other through this wee spot of bother with an ogre.

 

 

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