‘So, I made a broth. I know its not much, but you didn’t give me much to work with. I mean, we don’t have even salt.’ Garvin turned the ladle in the pot and tried to smile at the old man.
Berouw grabbed the ladle and blew on it once he took it out. He slurped. And then spat it back out.
‘Its just boiled water!’ Berouw coughed.
‘Well, I didn’t have anything else to work with! I mean, it's not like we caught a deer yesterday and found some mushrooms.’
‘I wonder how you two stayed alive all this time. Or did you expect me to have a gourmet hidden under the cart?’
It had been three days since the Dragonslayer left them. The old man, who had not counted on feeding more people than himself, had found himself without provisions quite quickly. Garvin wanted to yell at the man, but held his breath and counted to five. It was of no use to fight back. At least, it wouldn’t make food appear. He wondered why food had been a constant problem ever since he left his old home, especially since there had been a surplus of food for as long as people could remember.
‘Wait, there in the distance. There is a bridge!’ Berouw exclaimed. ‘That means civilisation lurks nearby.’
‘You make it sounds like that’s a bad thing.’
‘Not this time, not if it leads to food and lodgings.’
Garvin wondered how Berouw was going to find Jubel, the woman he had betrayed so many years ago. Yet he did not complain. He attached the horses and soon they were on their way. Their stomachs grumbled louder than ever.
‘How many horses do we need to pull a cart?’ Garvin asked, only partly joking.
The bridge was made of stone and seemed quite old. Once it must have had a wooden roof, but it long rotted and someone had cleared it. It was a good sign, meaning it was still in use. The bridge was arched, the highest point must have been twelve feet above the water. It seemed deserted.
‘Boy, you go test the bridge. I don’t want to risk falling in the water.’ Berouw threw him his walking stick and Garvin moved closer. He tapped the stones like a blind man and moved halfway.
‘Sturdy enough!’ he yelled. The horses manoeuvred closer and stepped on the bridge.
‘Halt! Who goes there?’
From the steep banks of the river rose a figure. It had two lumpy legs, big as tree trunks. An enormous torso draped in a cloth that could be used as a tent for a general. The creature's arms were short but sturdy and held an enormous club. The head towered over Garvin about six foot. It had one blue eye in the middle of its face.
The horses reared in fear of the monster. Berouw yelled at them. Garvin just stood there, frozen in fear.
‘Stom asked a question, who dares use this bridge!’ the sheer power of its voice made Garvin’s chest tremble, and it shook him out of his paralysed state. Garvin knew the creature from the books he had read. They were dealing with an ogre.
‘Garvin,’ he said, keeping his eyes pointed at the giant club. If the piece of lumber were hollow, it were a canoe.
‘To cross the bridge one must pay,’ Stom the ogre said.
Garvin dared to peek behind him, but Berouw was not in control of his horses yet. He yelled and waved his arms more than anything.
‘But I have nothing to offer you, Stom.’ Garvin said.
‘You cross, you pay!’ Stom said, spitting on the ground.
‘Fine, I can give you this stick!’ Garvin said offering the stick.
‘Huh, a toothpick?’
‘Yes, yes. A toothpick. For when you are..’ Garvin gulped, he wasn’t sure if he should continue.
‘Fine, you may pass,’ the ogre said as he stepped away from the bridge.
Garvin turned around to the old man. He seemed to have calmed down the horses somewhat.
‘Stom sees horses are scared of him.’
‘Nothing personal,’ Garvin said with a weak smile.
‘I barely have anyone that comes over.’
‘You know what, I will come to visit you soon,’ Garvin said. Why? He wasn’t sure. Probably to get Stom in a good mood.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, with more toothpicks and all.’
‘We can be friends, guard the bridge together!’
‘Yeah!’
The ogre stepped aside and let them pass in ease. With every step of his, the ground shook.
‘Bye!’ Garvin yelled from the back of the cart again. ‘See you soon!’
‘Bye, Garden!’
Garvin kept waving until they were out of sight. His heart was still banging against his chest.
‘You’re a quick thinker, son. You bribed him with a walking stick.’
Garvin smiled. ‘I think he was just lonely. Maybe he just guarded the bridge to socialise. And just acted like a big, bad bully so people would understand the situation. I mean, if he were to ask for tea, how weird would that be?’
Berouw just hummed. ‘There is the village already.’
It was yet another village. They went straight to the stables, and then directly tho the inn. To fill up their stomachs until they felt too sick to move. Eventually, they decided to stay at the inn and wait until the next morning in case the Dragonslayer would turn up.
The inn was crowded, people were laughing and drinking. A tiny man with dark eyes was telling a story about flying dogs to anyone who wanted to listen. But Garvin was sitting in a corner with a hot tea in his hands. The old man had already gone up to their room, but Garvin stayed downstairs. His book was on his lapse. But he didn’t jot a single word down except for Dianne. He had come to the conclusion he was indeed, in love. But did not yet figure out what it meant. Either way, it made him feel lonely. He had never felt part of his peers, but now it felt like they hardly had anything in common. Maybe he was more like Stom the ogre. Always on the outside, no matter where you were.
The door opened and a large man walked in. He looked very familiar to Garvin.
‘Drink for me, from everyone! I have saved the town!’ the Dragonslayer yelled. The few men that turned around to see who this newcomer was, nearly puked and fell off their chairs. The taverner stared at his friend and yelled; ‘Out of here! I don’t want this business at my place!’
Almost everyone was now staring at the Dragonslayer. Garvin got up and went outside. Though he instantly regretted it. On the ground, on a provisory sleigh, lay the head of Stom. Cut clean off. Its eye was a mess, black goo, cooked up with dried blood.
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‘Phew, I mean, I kill a monster. Was it too weird to expect a warm welcome?’
Garvin wiped his mouth with the backside of his hand. He had just puked in the grass next to the inn.
‘What did you do?’ he asked.
‘What do you mean? I killed a monster at a bridge.’
‘But why?’ Garvin cried out.
‘Dude, you wouldn’t know. I mean, he could have easily squashed you. It’s pure luck that you didn’t have to encounter it.’
‘But I did! We did! And guess what, the ogre just wanted some company!’ Garvin stared at its mauled face and tried to keep everything that didn’t leave his stomach the first time, inside.
‘Get this head away from here!’
‘What do you expect me to do with it? Carry it in my infinitely large backpack?’
‘Just bury it somewhere!’
It was so that, around midnight they were both digging quite a large hole for the head to be placed in. Sweat dripped from their backs as they rolled it in the pit. It fell with a loud thud.
Garvin sighed and wiped his forehead. ‘Sometimes I think you’re a bigger threat to the dangers around you, than the other way around.’
‘Let’s go get some sleep, it’s been a long day,’ the Dragonslayer said.
Garvin placed a stick it the fresh dirt. ‘We won’t forget you, friend.’
Once they were back at the inn, however, the word had spread through the village. And the Dragonslayer was not allowed inside. Before it could turn into an ugly scene, the town elder appeared with two sturdy-looking men.
‘Dragonslayer, you expect us to thank you for your service.’ The village elder was a large, fat man with a very red nose and long brown hair. ‘But you must realise the ogre was easy to pass. He scared away other creatures and even bandits! Do you realise what you did? You essentially killed the guard of our little village! Who’s going to defend us now?’
Garvin was shocked by this. ‘A guard? You used the ogre?’
‘Of course, it’s not like we would invite him for tea,’ the elder said. People laughed around them. Garvin realised it had, in fact, turned into a scene.
‘But the ogre was lonely! That’s why he was there.’
‘Now, whatever he was there for, he was an asset to us. Don’t forget in was childs play to pass him. Just ask him to pay the toll the next day, and then don’t show your face for a week.’
‘My friend here is right! You did this to an innocent creature which is wrong!’ the Dragonslayer yelled at the village elder.
‘But you killed him!’ Garvin yelled back to the Dragonslayer.
‘Enough! Since you killed the old guard, you must guard the bridge yourself until you find another one up for the task!’
‘We can’t! Garvin said. ‘We have to take the old man to Cord!’
‘You can’t make us do anything!’ the Dragonslayer boasted. He unsheathed his sword and stared around. Nobody moved.
‘Will this be the day the infamous Dragonslayer finally turns villain? You can run away, but your reputation will precede you. Everyone knows you’re a wanted man in both Cord and Greed, the two largest cities. And if you want to escort an old man, you better help this village.’
A man pushed his way trough the crowd. ‘Sir, we have captured the old man as you asked.’
‘Don’t you hurt him!’ the Dragonslayer said trough his teeth.
‘You will guard the bridge, and he will be safe. Find a replacement for the ogre, and he is free to go. I would hurry up if I were you.’
The crowd dispersed, after giving the two evil looks. The Dragonslayer just shrugged. But for Garvin, this was less easy to shrug off.
‘Why must you always complicate things?’ he said. ‘You are lazy, but when you do something, you make stuff worse.’
‘Come on, dude! I am a hero, what do you expect me to do when I see an angry ogre on a bridge threatening me with a six-foot club?’
‘What normal people do! Beg their way trough!’
They bickered their way to the outskirts of the village and decided to go back to the bridge the next morning.
Early in the morning, they left without a word. Garvin had hoped he could speak to Berouw somehow, but that wasn’t possible. Everyone knew their faces.
They arrived at the bridge, and the first thing they noticed was the smell. The whole east bank was covered with blood. There was a small hill, the corpse of the ogre. As much as it made his unwell, Garvin was also impressed by the apparent ease which the Dragonslayer killed it.
‘Maybe we can push him into the river. Let him wash away,’ The Dragonslayer proposed.
‘How do you intend to move something this big?’ Garvin wanted to know.
‘Well, with a lever. Or we could cut him in pieces. Don’t worry about it, I will take care of it. Go take a walk or whatever.’ Garvin wondered if he wanted to spare him or just get him out of there. But he declined. Instead, he investigated the bridge. The Dragonslayer had disappeared into the woods, while Garvin had climbed down the steep slope to the river. There he had found a small hollowed-out concave. There was the walking stick he had given him just a day before. There was a basket filled with apples. There was a torch. Rabbit skins, feathers and polished stones. Even a few coins tucked away. Garvin sat there, under the bridge and stared at the water. Wondering why an ogre had been the most humane of anyone he had met so far.
When he heard his friend call out his name, he grabbed the basked and climbed back up. The ogre was covered with logs.
‘Yeah, I think it’s more poetic to burn him,’ the Dragonslayer said. ‘I mean, his head had a proper burial.’
He touched the wood, and flames burst out the wood.
‘Ogres are pretty flammable. That’s basic knowledge,’ the Dragonslayer said. He turned around and saw Garvin stare at the corpse. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t tactful.’
‘It’s not like you have ever been mister tactful.’ Garvin said. ‘Go now, my friend. Know that in your loneliness, you have protected an entire village. And though you never knew, we are grateful for it. You won’t be forgotten.’
‘The nicest words an ogre ever had. Let’s get some sleep.’
They both lay on a soft patch of ground, inside their sleeping bags and stared at the fire a yard away.
‘Where have you been?’ Garvin asked. ‘You’ve been away for four days.’
The Dragonslayer scraped his throat. ‘I have been searching for an ally. You know what we have to do once we get to Cord, right?’
‘Yeah, gather the heroes and storm the Black Temple. To avenge LaFleche.’
‘Exactly, but the thing is. I am a wanted man. Not as much of a cool story like at Greed. I mean, I shagged the queen and now she hates me.’
Ar’Moor was led by a queen, the king had died many years ago. Though most cities were ruled as city-states, the queen was still the main authority.
‘Why am I not shocked by this news?’ Garvin said.
‘Well, the thing is, I am not allowed inside the walls, which is why I have this.’ Out of his coat, the Dragonslayer got two flasks with a black and pink looking substance. ‘These potions are the only ones in the entire world. They are the key to get a meeting with the heroes.’
‘What do they do?’
‘These, my friend, give us the charisma we need. And the looks you need, nothing personal, bud.’
The Dragonslayer just smiled.
‘If you have an adventure on your own, tell me. So I can write it down,’ Garvin said.
‘Just give me your book, and I will do it myself.’
‘You will?’
The Dragonslayer laughed. ‘Yes, exactly as it happened. An epic tale involving witches and monsters and quests. But first, we need to come up with an idea to leave the bridge.’