Henry wasn’t in his room, so Midor and Alicia tried Catherine’s room next. But the large ogre, the one who was still blind from Grace’s arrow, was blocking their way.
“We want to see Henry,” Midor said.
“Catherine said no one was to see him while she was gone,” said the ogre.
“I’m sure we can make some sort of a bargain,” Midor began.
The ogre, since he could not see, sniffed at Midor’s shirt. “What is your name?” he asked.
“My name is Midor, I--”
“Catherine said that no one was to see Henry, and especially the one called Midor was not allowed to see Henry,” said the Ogre. “She said to bite your head off if you tried to get through to see Henry.”
“Yes, that does sound like her,” said Midor, mostly to himself. Then he turned back to the ogre. “Let me ask you a question: what do you get out of all of this? I mean, what is Catherine paying you? Is she paying you? Or does she have some sort of other leverage over you?”
Midor was distracted by the sound of coarse laughing. He turned to see General Graten, holding a sack of wine, leaning against the wall. “Midor! Are you seriously attempting to negotiate with an ogre?”
“General, are you drunk?”
“Of course I’m drunk,” said General Graten. “Haven’t you heard of the new arrangement? Your wife gets to do all the fighting, and I get to do all the drinking. But don’t change the subject. You’re not really trying to negotiate with that ogre, are you? I know you have a reputation for negotiating, but this is ridiculous. No one ever successfully reasoned with an ogre before, you know.”
“General, if you’re not going to help--”
Midor was cut off by the sound of steel scraping against metal as General Graten took his sword out of its sheath. “Sharpened steel. That is the only way to negotiate with an ogre.”
“General, put that away!”
“Why? Catherine’s gone. Now is the perfect time to get rid of all these ogres and goblins from this castle once and for all.”
Midor rolled his eyes. “General, you’re drunk. You can’t fight anyone in your state. Go to bed, and then we’ll discuss the wisest course of action once you’ve had a good sleep.”
“Ah, Midor, how little you know me. I’ve always done all my best fighting when I’m drunk.” And with that, General Graten swung his sword at the ogre. It was a drunken swing, and the arc was a bit too big, but it was still aimed directly at the ogre’s neck. The ogre, who could hear the sound of the sword swinging even if he could not see it, raised up his arm to protect himself from the swing. He managed to protect his neck, but the sword cut into his arm. The ogre howled with rage, pushed Midor and Alicia out of the way, and charged in the direction of General Graten. General Graten readied his sword, and swung at the ogre again.
Midor, who had been knocked down on the floor next to Alicia, turned his head to speak to her. “Events have taken an unexpected turn. I anticipate I may yet need your help unenchanting Henry before the day is through, but for now, I need you to run to safety. And tell your parents, and your other aunts and uncles, what is now transpiring in the castle.”
Alicia nodded, and ran off.
Midor stood up and ran to try to assist General Graten.
The ogre, although blind and wounded, was still a formidable beast. It was thrashing around wildly, trying to find General Graten with its arms. General Graten, on the other hand, was hacking at it with his sword. “Ah, Midor, if only I still had that magic sword you had given me,” he said. “I would be able to make short work out of this ugly beast.”
“What happened to your sword?” Midor asked.
“What? Has your wife not told you?” asked General Graten. “I thought--”
But here General Graten was again cut off, as one of the ogre’s flailing arms managed to find him, and knock him over sideways. The General fell to the ground, and the ogre’s ears took note of where he fell. The ogre then ran forward with his mouth open wide to devour the general’s head, but General Graten had just enough time to thrust his sword into the ogre’s open mouth, killing the beast instantly.
General Graten stood up. “I thought she would have told you,” said the General, picking up where he had left off his previous sentence. “Are you and the wife not communicating much these days?”
“We’re not technically married,” Midor replied.
“She took my super speed potion as well,” said General Graten. “That’s why she gets to do all the monster fighting these days, and I get to do all the drinking. But we can always liven things up by killing a few ogres and goblins.”
“We can’t fight the whole goblin army,” Midor said. “You remember what happened last time. They swarmed us.”
“Yes, I made that mistake last time, didn’t I?” said General Graten. “What we need to do is grab their king. If we can find Grinthal, and we hold a sword to his neck, he’ll call off the rest of his army pretty quickly.”
“I suppose he would,” said Midor. “But the goblins aren’t bothering anything just at the moment, so I wouldn’t--”
But General Graten was already running down the hallway. Midor hesitated briefly, and then ran after him. “General!” Midor called out after him. “If you are thinking of doing anything rash, then I must warn you that I will try to stop you.”
General Graten suddenly stopped running, and turned around to face Midor. “This will be good,” he said. “I always wanted to see what you were made of, Midor. You may be the greatest forest ranger alive, but what kind of a fighter are you?”
Midor saw no reason not to be honest. “I’m not a very accomplished fighter, General.”
“That’s what I thought. You always negotiate your way out of every difficulty. Or you get the animals to do your fighting for you.”
“I normally try to avoid fights, yes,” Midor admitted. “I’ve been in a few scraps before, but…”
“I’ll make this easy for you,” said General Graten, who undid his belt, and threw his sword and sheath to the side. “No weapons. Just you and me. And I’m drunk, so I guess the advantage is yours. I’ll even give you the first swing.”
Midor, however, had not become the greatest ranger in the forest without recognizing a trap when he saw one. “I’ll concede readily, General, that you can beat me in a fist fight.”
General Graten was still swaying slightly from the alcohol. “Then how,” he said, “How, Midor, are you going to stop me from doing anything rash?”
“Probably not with a fist fight,” Midor admitted.
General Graten turned around and picked up his belt again. He turned around, and started walking down the hallway. “Well, now that that’s established, Midor, I suggest that you leave me alone. If you don’t want to help me fight the goblins, then don’t try to follow me.”
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