Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [19]
“We should fight the ogres, but not alone,” said Garn. “Help lies on the other side of the fjord.”
The Gymir Fjord was a narrow stretch of deep water that cut inland between tall cliffs separating the Torgun from the mainland of Kharajis and the other clans of the Vindrasi. The Heudjun, the largest, wealthiest, and strongest of the eight major clans, lived in the lord city of Vindraholm, located on the other side of the fjord. Horg, the current Chief of Chiefs, the most powerful man in the Vindrasi nation, was also the Chief of the Heudjun Clan. His wife, Draya, was Kai Priestess.
“Horg has many dragonships and many warriors,” said Norgaard thoughtfully. “His wife is close to the gods. They would answer her, if they are able to answer anyone.”
Skylan grunted. “I hear Horg has lost his nerve and now searches for it at the bottom of a cider barrel.”
“Horg is a warrior,” Norgaard said sternly. The Chief of Chiefs was near Norgaard’s age, and he could understand what youth could not. “His warrior’s heart will not fail him.”
“Whether Horg is or is not a drunken swine makes no difference,” Sigurd said impatiently. “The ogres have seized our dragonship. We have no way to send for help.”
Someone suggested swimming, but someone else pointed out that though the days were warm, the deep water of the fjord was chill. The swimmer would die of the cold before he made it halfway across. As for traveling overland, the fjord extended many miles inland; trying to walk around it would take days.
“Garn has a plan,” said Skylan. “He would not have brought this up otherwise.”
“Well, Garn? If you do have a plan, let us hear it,” said Norgaard.
“We do not need ships or swimmers to summon aid. We will light the beacon fire.”
An ancient means of summoning the clans to war, the beacon fire alerted the other clans to danger and called for help. Clans were bound by ancient law to respond to a beacon fire. Horg and his warriors would see it and know there was trouble.
There was one problem with this plan, however.
“It won’t work, Garn,” Norgaard said, sighing. He’d let his hopes be raised, only now to have them dashed. “Ogres also use beacon fires. They would see us gathering the wood and building the fire, and they would know we were trying to summon help. They would attack us on the spot.”
“Not if their bellies are full of boar meat,” said Garn.
The others stared at him, perplexed, not understanding. Skylan gave a great guffaw and slapped his leg, forgetting about his wound.
“Explain your plan to these slow-wits, brother,” he said, pressing his hand against his thigh with a grimace.
“The ogres ordered us to give a great feast in their honor,” said Garn. “We will serve them wild boar.”
He paused, looking around, thinking that they must understand him now.
“Boar roasted over a great fire,” said Skylan triumphantly.
The Council members grinned in sudden understanding, and several applauded. Norgaard, turning over the plan in his mind, could find no flaw. Ogres had voracious appetites, especially for meat. These ogres had been at sea a long time, probably forced to live on fish (which ogres detested) and cold peas, not the red meat they relished. He had noted them sniffing hungrily at the smells coming from the stewpots and ovens of the Torgun.
“A good idea, Garn,” Norgaard said simply, and Garn flushed with pleasure at the praise.
Skylan was enthusiastic. “Horg and his warriors will see the beacon fire. They will sail before dawn, and when the ogres wake, they will find themselves outnumbered two to one. The water will be red with ogre blood. Their death cries will rise to the heavens, as will the smoke of their burning ships.
“Who knows,” he added, grinning, “the ogres might even pitch in to help us build the fire that will mean their doom!”
The decision of the Council to approve Garn’s plan was unanimous.
CHAPTER
4
The ogre godlords were pleased with the invitation to feast on roasted boar meat. Garn, who went to issue the invitation on behalf of Norgaard, related that one of the godlords even began to drool