“Woman, you know I have duties. Obligations,” Odom said through clenched teeth.
Aaaaaaand…they were back to the hate part of the relationship.
“Excuses, that’s all I ever get,” the Sapphire Witch said.
“You got more than that a few minutes ago,” Odom said.
“That little thing?” the Sapphire Witch said, “I barely noticed it.”
Odom threw down his sword. It clattered and rang against the deck. He clenched his fists and stepped closer to the Sapphire Witch.
“All right. Fine. You want to do this now?” he said.
The Sapphire Witch stood rigid, arms down at her sides, her delicate hands clenched into fists.
“Bring it on, you stupid, overhyped runt,” she said.
Odom’s face twisted with rage. “I am not a runt!” he shouted in a thunderous voice, “My brothers are just bigger than me!”
Hilario eyed the rapidly approaching flying hoard of death. This was all his fault. How could he fix it?
He raised his hands to the Ogre ridden bat-serpents. Unlocked his precious supply of light energy. Sent psychic tendrils out to the weak minded, blood-thirsty beasts that approached.
And projected. As hard as he could.
Projected visions of chocolate mountains and candy cane forests. Sent the ogres and bat-serpents tiny brains overwhelming images of cotton candy clouds above a world of dancing gummy bears and lakes of fizzy orange soda.
And the descending army of murder totally lost their poop.
The bat-winged serpents went into a frenzy. Twisting, writhing. Bucking, looping back on themselves. Biting their tails. Biting their wings.
The ogres thrust at the air with their spears and swords. Hacked at the bat-serpents under them.
At least until they tumbled from their mounts and went spinning into the flaming river below.
Followed in short order by the bat-serpents.
Gouts of flame erupted from each fiery splash. Putrid smoke flowed over the barge. A stink of ogre and bat-serpent meat.
A wail pierced the air.
Something thumped on the deck.
Hilario spun around. Hands held in casting position, his light energy flowing through every fiber of his being.
An ogre lay at the edge of the barge. Its head and arm dangled over the edge. Dangerously close to the molten river.
Oh dear.
Hilario lowered his hands and bounced his lightened self over to the ogre. He grasped the beast’s metal studded leather armor and pulled the ogre back from the edge. Then drew back.
What the heckity heck was he doing? He should have kicked it over the edge. Not dragged it to safety.
Though, really, it was pretty bad that the other ogres and their bat-serpent mounts went into the river Plegethon.
Sigh. More things to atone for? Was it okay to kill ogres and bat serpents to save himself and his companions?
It probably depended on what side it was viewed from.
He withdrew his light energy back into his shrinking reserve. He had used more than half of what he had left. Not good.
He did a passive scan of the skies. He couldn’t see any more winged death flapping across the skies. Obviously his light magic had attracted them. Where had they come from so fast? He looked down at the ogre.
Maybe it wasn’t so unfortunate this one hadn’t landed in the river.
The ogre that lay on the deck seemed smaller than most ogres. Practically a runt, compared to some of the ogres he’d shared a mug of demon piss with over the centuries. The ogre on the deck was about the size of an average human male. Thicker in the chest and arms than a human, of course. Plus the legs were much shorter. And ended with knobby toed feet that could have used a good pedicure. Though power tools would have been needed to cut back those nails.
The ogre’s head was undersized compared to the rest of it. A misshapen, bald lump of a head, with a bulbous nose and flat cauliflower ears. It barely had a chin below its long slash of a mouth. And barely had a neck below that insubstantial chin.
The metal studded leather armor that covered its chest and groin seemed to be its only clothing.
And it smelled of rotten cabbage. As most ogres did.
Hilario glanced back at his companions. Odom the Paladin and the Sapphire Witch were still arguing. Gesturing wildly with their arms. Sparks crackled around the Sapphire Witch’s clenched hands.
So much for his heroes help.
He nudged the ogre with his floppy clown shoe.
“Hello. Sir. Mr. Ogre, sir. Can you hear me?” he said.
The ogre groaned. Raised its knobby knuckled fingers to its head. The ogre’s fingernails were thick and jagged at the ends. Like the ogre had been chewing at them.
“Oy, whut ‘appened,” the ogre said.
“You fell off your bat serpent,” Hilario said, “Fortunately you fell on our barge and I was able to save you. So you owe me now.”
The ogre raised its knobby, lumpy head. Focused its beady brown eyes on Hilario. Its thick brows furrowed in concentration.
“Ey, yer thats clowns,” it said, flashing a mouthful of jagged, razor sharp teeth, “That’s wut we’s beens after.”
A chill went through Hilario. Despite the sulfurous heat that turned his orange and white striped uniform into a sopping mess.
“Me? Why would anyone be after me?” Hilario said, “I’m just a simple entertainer.”
The ogre squinted. Scratched at its insubstantial chin.
“Yeah, yous,” the ogre said, “Them dark lords be mighty pissed abouts yous. Big bountys yous gots.”
Oh dear. Hilario’s insides turned to jelly at the ogre’s words. A bounty. A big bounty.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Hilario cleared his throat. Put on a smile under his painted smile.
“Ha, ha. That’s silly,” he said, “Why would the dark lords have any interest in me?”
The ogre sat up. Lifted a leg and let out a rumbling and noxious blast
