“The Devil Himself!”

[image error]Mudwort was not your average Ogre brute; he was a captain in Maldamien’s vast army. The dull-witted Ogres were almost never officers. That honor was typically saved for the more intelligent races such as Huldra or human nomads. Mudwort was proud of his hard-earned distinction as he guarded the main road out of thick Shenlong forest. His polished, silver armor glittered reflecting the rays of light shining through the enormous trees. He watched every traveler with his keen dark eyes. His warty gray skin stretched tight over his bulky muscles, and his pointed lower teeth stuck up over his top lip making him a terrifying sight.

Today marked an important day that had brought even Turmeric, Maldamien’s second in command, to this far country of Sprites. The Duke and Duchess of Greenpond had been arrested and were to be executed for treason in just a couple of hours. The nation of Caoineag needed this high profile execution to squash the emerging underground movement opposing the great wizard dictator.

Mudwort put his rough hand on the hilt of his massive broadsword. He watched a poor family of three Sprites driving a half-full cart of apples. The melancholy family rumbled past, down the wide dirt road into the base of the tree-top town. These vain Sprites were ungrateful. Maldamien ruled the eight countries of Gryphendale with strict order. His soldiers numbered in the tens of thousands and patrolled every corner of the kingdom. Crime was unheard of anywhere in the land. The taxes and slaves that Maldamien demanded was a small price for the stable government that had brought the Ogres out of poverty in their mountains. These Sprites had always had life easy, but now they were the same as everyone else.

A family of five round Gnomes in pointed hats walked out of town in front of Mudwort. The anxious mother pushed her three children to the opposite side of the road. They all glanced fearfully at Mudwort who stood more than twice their height. This terror didn’t bother Mudwort at all. He liked the feeling of power those fearful looks gave him.

He enjoyed being a soldier, and he took his job seriously. He had been given special orders today. Rumor had it that the most wanted men in the kingdom, Sage the Huldra and Toble the Dryad, were also here. For nearly fifteen years they had been causing problems at executions. They were known troublemakers who traveled all over the kingdom encouraging underground resistance movements and even freeing some slaves. Turmeric especially hated Sage. They had a troubled history. Mudwort wanted to be the one to catch the rogues and earn the admiration of even the nomad officers in the army.

“How are you doing, Mudwort?” asked Lord Jacob as his moth wings brought him to a soft landing by the road.

The Sprite lord in the frilly white blouse and a stylish striped coat was one of the most stalwart supporter’s of Maldamien’s government in this country. Mudwort had formed a casual friendship with him when he had acted as Lord Jacob’s bodyguard for a few trips. The cocky Sprite was middle-aged with stripes of white in his dark brown hair. As a leader in the Sprite court, Lord Jacob held tremendous power and influence. He was also one of the very few who spoke to Mudwort at all.

The pig-faced ogre bowed slightly to the nobleman.

“Just guard duty, sir.”

The massive ogre stood head and shoulders taller than the fashionable Sprite.

Just then, a large wooden cart full of barrels approached them. The pudgy Sprite man driving the cart had undersized moth wings that didn’t seem strong enough to support him. Mudwort held up his hand and stepped into the road. This cart was just the sort of thing that Sage would hide in to get out of town.

“You should check that cart well,” said Lord Jacob folding his arms and narrowing his eyes. “That is Ezekiel. He has no love for Maldamien.”

Ezekiel snarled at Lord Jacob.

“Does it matter? I’ll keep my mouth shut to stay in business.”

The portly Sprite was known to have the best brew in the country. It was said that he was one of the few Sprites who didn’t live in the trees. He made his home on the floor of the forest after he fell out of a tree, drunk on his own tonic.

Mudwort took Lord Jacob’s advice seriously. He opened every barrel of the strong cinnamon smelling beverage. He even searched under the cart. It was all clear. He motioned the impatient sprite brewer to go.

“Well,” said Lord Jacob, “I still don’t trust him. Are you planning on coming to the execution?”

“Can’t,” said Mudwort. “Sage is in town, and I plan on catching him.”

Lord Jacob tilted his head with a skeptical smirk.

“Good for you, but I am not sure the devil himself could catch that rascal. Last year, he sneaked by Turmeric himself with freed slaves.”

“I’ll catch him,” said Mudwort folding his arms over his silver armor.

He continued to watch the road intensely.

Five nomad soldiers rode their brown horses up the road at full speed. The commanding nomad held up his hand to stop his troops in front of Mudwort.

“Have you seen a cart with barrels drive by here?” asked the commander sharply.

The nomad with intense brown intense eyes wore a full dark beard and had his head covered with a keffiyeh. All the soldiers wore the loose tunic and trousers of that desert people.

Mudwort nodded with confidence.

“Just came through a few minutes ago.”

“You fool!” shouted the nomad commander fiercely. “That cart had Sage, the Duke, and the Duchess!”

Mudwort dropped his arms and turned pale.

“That’s not possible! I checked every barrel!”

He glanced at Lord Jacob. Lord Jacob shook his head.

“I knew Ezekiel was a traitor. Perhaps, he had a false floor in the cart, or maybe the barrels were cleverly made only to be half full of tonic.”

“You better hope we catch him!” said the commander. He kicked his horse with his soft knee-high boot. “Or you’ll have to explain it to Turmeric!”

The nomad solder rode through with his troops at full gallop. Mudwort watched them ride off after the cart.

“How is that possible? I checked everything. They couldn’t have passed my eyes even with an invisibility spell.” He turned back to Lord Jacob. “You saw how carefully I checked everything!”

Lord Jacob sighed.

“One day, they will catch Sage, but it will probably have to be Maldamien himself. I would not have done any better than you.”

Four Ogre soldiers and Turmeric came running up to them. They stopped in front of Mudwort and Lord Jacob and panted to catch their breath.

“Did some nomad soldiers come by here?” asked Turmeric panting hard with his sword drawn.

His loose nomad tunic and trousers were covered in sweat. His Huldra eyes changed from dark green to black and back again. His dark fox tail barely brushed the ground.

Mudwort was shaking now. Turmeric was a Huldra wizard with a bad temper.

“Yes, sir,” said Mudwort licking his lips. “They just rode by. They said that Sage was in the cart with barrels, but, sir, I checked the cart. There couldn’t have been anyone in those barrels. I am sure…”

“Shut up, you idiot!” snapped Turmeric turning red with rage. “Sage wasn’t in the blasted cart! The nomad soldiers were Sage, Toble, the Duke, the Duchess, and two friends. They just now stole my horses and escaped.”

“The devil himself!” said Mudwort as he stared down the dirt road where Sage and the others had vanished.