Chapter 177

Home

Ogo

Home. The volcano loomed over the docks. It was a wrinkled volcano, and it was all black. There was no other proof that Pol the legless crawled upon the world. The volcano was his. The first oral story I ever learned by heart was of Pol the legless. He hunted a prime saber toothed bear when he found himself crawling over boiling tar. The tar burned his skin, but he swam in place for one thousand years. His struggle to pull himself from the tar had piled a mountain behind him. For all his efforts, he could not escape. He held his breath before he sank. He still lies there and his heart is angry at the injustice of his slow death.

Pol was in another fit of rage. The volcano trembled. Magma sluiced from its decapitation. Ash speckled the air and tasted of acid. The ashfall covered the mouths of caves, decorated the tongues and shoulders of orcs, and lightened the wood of the newly built ships on the water.

Orcs of the volcano isles moved as slow as turning elephants. Hundreds of my kin had come out from their caves to celebrate Pol’s rage. New caves were dug as communal rituals that symbolized the search for Pol’s legs. He needed those legs to climb the flute of his own rage to free himself of his hot tomb.

I would join them in their digs after I acquired my twenty commissioned ships.

Flax, their maker, found me grinning. “Thirty thousand gold,” he said. “Pay me annually until your debt is paid off. Twenty-five percent interest.”

I gestured to the carts of gold coin that my orcs were wheeling down the gangways of my ships. I hadn’t needed to gesture. Orcs and little orclets thronged the docks to gawk at the clattering piles of gold coins.

Haf came to shake hands with Flax.

“Haf, pay Flax his thirty thousand for the ships,” I said. I ripped the head off of a waterskin, and guzzled the water. With it empty, I scooped it full of gold coins. I slapped the sack into Flax’s hand, and I grinned. “Deposit for another twenty ships.”

“Son of Khil!” said Flax. “By the Fourteen Tusked Boko, I can’t believe it! How in the Six fingered Fist of Irna did you come upon this much fortune! Pol’s legs!”

Orc sailors huddled around us.

Buto shouldered his way through. “Ogo,” he said.

“Buto, I’m pleased. The ships are well built.”

“You did it.”

“And over and over again I’ll keep doing it.”

“Is there even a mouthful of spit beer left aboard?”

“Enough for a toast with my captains.”

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The mention of spit beer aboard had everyone shift their line of sight to my ship. Fur appeared at the top of the gangway. He lugged a sack at his back filled with scrolled maps.

Waving big, he said, “Maps for sale! Updated maps! Explore the Sea of Ogo!”

The sailors suddenly abandoned me and sprinted down the dock. Their footfalls thundered loud enough to send ripples racing off in what I could call fear.

What a commotion my return was causing. By the size of eyes, my kin had never seen so much gold. And I did this! Mighty Ogo did this! With my maps, orcs will sail upon my sea, and their fingers will sail across my name. I wanted my name in grunted guttural songs. I want to hear the tale of Ogo the MIghty, Ogo the enduring; Ogo, he who pulled one thousand times his weight of magic beer over a mountain.

I looked up high, as if the mountain we had crossed could be pulled from my memory. But in my vision I caught Jix waving over the taffrail at the prow.

“Sailors!” she boomed from the drum of her belly. “Five hundred gold a year! Sailors needed!”

The docks once again thundered. the sea trembled. Shadows of fish fled. Even sluicing magma escaped into the sea and boiled the water under great clouds of screaming steam.

Another shriek joined the screaming steam. It came from a young orclet, not even ten years old. He raced toward the dock as if he charged an entire army by himself. His mother was faster. She scooped him up by the leg and lifted him like he was but a pig to be rammed with a spit.

“Not yet, you don’t!” said the mother.

“I’m going to be like Lif!” said the orclet.

“Lif the warlord who popped skulls with a pinch?” said Buto.

“A promper mentor,” I said. “The lad will grow well.”

“Fetch a goat and rake it over the coals!” said the mother.

“I’m old enough to go!”

“Wash your hands in the magma. If they come out green, I’ll let you go. If they come out black again, you stay home.”

The orclet must have known that his hands would come out black. He probably already discovered his skin wasn’t quite thick enough yet.

He crossed his arms and pouted. “Fine!” he spat.

The father joined them laughing. It was then that I noticed all of my orcs were likewise reuniting with their families. Sweet moments were soon interrupted when all eyes turned once again to my ship. New creatures were debarking: the legkeds and the golem.

Lady orcs swarmed the golem. He was the biggest, the largest creature they must have ever seen. They fawned over him, and his deep laughter had the ladies batting their eyes at him.

He wasn’t the only one whose size and presence brought a flutter to lady’s eyes. I wasn’t naive enough to misunderstand my own aura. My gaze met many others. I wanted more than anything to bring them treasures. I wanted to bring back spit beer, I wanted to buy goats from Lunstad, I wanted to bring pearls for my kin. There were stories to forge with my muscle against the world. I wanted to inspire the younger generations. The orcs deserved everything.

A trumpet blew at my ankles. A group of young orclets had gathered at my feet. One of them blew his nose again. They gaped at me. Their eyes were young enough to still soak light like sponges soaked water. I hoped they were looking forward to becoming as huge as me when they grew up.

“What are your names?” I said.

“Piw.”

“Wed.”

“Sop.”

“I have a quest for you,” I said. They tilted their heads. The one whose tusks were just coming in lapped at the protrusions with her bottom lip. “The next time I come back, you better be full grown. If I’m gonna put on a fight, you’ve gotta be ready to beat me.”

They made mean faces, and they growled.

Of course I wouldn’t brawl with them the next time around. I’d thrown them around like a father throws his laughing children for play. Nor would I brawl with them the time after that. But one day I would like to brawl with them when they are stronger than me. Armed with double the strength that I have built, they could provide for our kin twice as much as I could. It is my hope to inspire them.

I pointed to the pearl ring around my tusk. “Whoever beats me next time gets this ring. This ring will show you the slug riders who have thorns for teeth.”