Free Disenchanted by Robert Kroese

massive hands nearly dragging on the ground, the creature had to be a good nine feet tall. Forget about climbing trees; the ogre could easily reach up and grab Boric by the ankle without even straightening its torso. Idiot! thought Boric. I’m a sitting duck. It was only dumb luck that the ogre hadn’t yet spotted him. A slight shift in the gentle night breeze, or a quick glance upward, and the ogre would have him. Boric didn’t have a chance.
    The giant beast reached its leathery hand out to the trunk of the tree, seeming to be taking stock of its situation. Its head craned back, cavernous nostrils sniffing the night air. Boric thought he saw the creature’s brow furl in perplexity. It smells me, he thought. It just can’t pinpoint my location. Boric considered drawing his sword, but he didn’t dare move. The smallest sound would be like a claxon to the ogre.
    “Boric!” called Padmos again. The ogre’s head crooked to hear the sound.
    “Waaaaahhhhh!” cried Daman. The ogre’s limbs twitched with excitement at the wail. It seemed to instantly forget about Boric and lumbered toward the open window. For a moment, Boric lost sight of the creature in the shadows. There was a terrified screech followed by a bellowing roar. The bait had worked.
    Boric swung down from the bough, landing in a crouch at the foot of the oak tree, and then sprinted toward the house. His hand brushed the pommel of Brakslaagt again, and he noted that it was still vibrating, but less intensely. Had it been reacting to the danger posed by the ogre?
    Padmos screamed again. Ahead of Boric, the hulking figure of the ogre bent over next to the window, fishing around inside the house with its right arm.
    “Pull the rope!” cried Boric. The ogre turned its massive head to face Boric, its arm still nearly shoulder-deep in the house. Boric heard muffled shouts from inside the house.
    “Pull it!” cried Boric again. The ogre’s face contorted in anger at Boric. Still fixated on the “baby” in the house, it clearly resented this intrusion. It bared a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth and pulled its arm from the house. It advanced toward Boric, but suddenly stopped short as its right arm jerked to a halt behind it: a loop of thick rope was wrapped around its wrist. The other end of the rope disappeared inside the house.
    “We got him!” hollered Daman from inside the house. “We did it!”
    Boric swallowed hard. He wanted to believe that it really was that easy, but he knew that he had underestimated the size of the ogre. What if…?
    As if in response to his half-formed question, the ogre planted its feet wide on the ground, leaning away from the house, and then thrust its arm forward. Miraculously, the rope didn’t break, but what did happen was arguably worse. Boric had secured the other end of the rope to what remained of the stone chimney that ran down the center of the house, and as Boric stared in awe, a sizeable chunk of the chimney exploded from the house as if the wall was made of paper, revealing two terrified men cowering inside. The fragment of stone and masonry sailed over the ogre’s right shoulder toward Boric, who barely managed to dive out of the way. The chimney struck a sapling behind Boric, reducing it to splinters. Boric had to admit that as much as he disliked the elves, they made some damn strong rope. The cord was barely half an inch thick, but it was stronger than steel.
    The ogre grinned at Boric. Boric smiled weakly back at the ogre.
    Ogres are stupid, thought Boric. I can outsmart him. But another part of his brain retorted, Of course you can. Why, look how well you’re doing so far!
    The fact was, Boric knew, ogres were stupid, at least in most capacities. You wouldn’t want to rely on an ogre to recount the Seven Ages of the Old Realm or remind you which of the wines of Swarnholme went best with lobster. But there was one thing that ogres were very smart about, and that was smashing things. For all their other