Page 25 of Ogres Don't Play

“It’s not a lie, it’s a joke. I guess jokes don’t come easily, either.”

He smiled slightly. “Ogre humor would confuse you.”

“A lot of things about ogres confuses me,” I admitted before I summoned my most professional smile. “Such as your musical traditions. I’m organizing a Jubilee in one month’s time, and I wonder if you and your companions could be persuaded to demonstrate some of your own cultural heritage.”

He frowned, and ogre frowns were absolutely terrifying. I almost took a step back in rational fear, but he had saved me before, so he probably wouldn’t crack my head open on the stones of my own hall. “You are organizing a Jubilee? A party? Strange. How do you recognize me from the accident? Most ofyour kind have a difficult time distinguishing ogres from each other.”

I blinked at him and then past him at the other ogres who were working on the wall. They all looked similar, pointed ears, muscular, massive bodies, shaved or bald heads, but I’d faced a lot of ogres on the battlefield, and over time, you learned to identify the regulars.

“Your voice is very distinct.”

“You heard my voice while I was chiseling?”

I frowned, because I’d recognized him by his back. That really wasn’t normal, so I just shook my head and changed the subject. I’d always been able to distinguish ogres from each other, but no one else in my division had been able to. “Will you think about the singing?”

“You wish to thank me by asking me for another favor? That sounds like what an elf would do.”

I raised my chin. My mom had been half elf, half human. I’d spent a lot of time feeling bad about my mixed heritage amidst all the angels, but that was a long time ago. “Thank you. Elves are exquisite musicians. Perhaps we could do a whole chorale with ogres and elves.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. Elves as a race are not my favorite.”

My smile turned into baring my teeth. “Ogres are not mine, but here we are. Perhaps you feel inferior, since musicality doesn’t come naturally to your kind.”

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, infringing on my space. Only a lunatic wouldn’t retreat when a battle ogre advanced, but I held my ground, until my neck was craned, looking up at him. He really was very large, very strong, very well-spoken, and his tone was really something.

“Musically gifted does not make up for character flaws. Elves are filled with deceit.”

“And ogres aren’t? They are the most diabolically twisted on the battlefield, with complex attacks and counterattacks, mixed with the most unexpected mine-fields.”

He smiled, showing all his terrifying teeth and highlighting his very large tusks. He could bite off my face with one snap of his teeth. “You finally compliment me and my kind.”

I wrinkled my nose. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

“If I accept it as such, who are you to complain? If you would like to thank me, you will cook a meal of such delicacies as only an ogre can appreciate. If I were you, little music master, I would keep your thanks to yourself.” He patted my head before I could protest, then turned and strode off, back to the wall, where he climbed the scaffolding, then assisted another ogre with a large piece of stone that had to be carefully maneuvered into place.

He'd patted my head? What did he think I was, five years old? I glared at him while I watched, but at the same time, for a few minutes, I hadn’t been fixated on Rook the Luthier.

I walked back towards my room, because I needed pants. Lanise was waiting by the door, arms crossed, holding my light armor. I took it and went into the side hall and started dressing, out of sight of the ogres. “Lanise, how is it that all these stonework artisans have battle magic marks? Are they all soldiers?”

She grunted. “Stone art, Warriors. Same.”

I stared at her between tugging up the slender pants. Getting them on wasn’t easy. “Same? Soldiers and artisans are the same? My dad would probably agree with that. The art of war, and all that. Still, it seems like it would take distinctly different talents.” I pulled off my nightshirt and pulled on the top, then on with the robe over everything. I pulled my long hair out and then started for the nearest classroom with some basic harps.

“Lanise, do the artisan ogres know about payment?”

She shrugged her enormous shoulders and continued alongside me.

“For their work, I can’t pay them,” I said, being very clear, because the last thing I needed was a troop of orders demanding payment. They could knock down the music hall much easier than they could rebuild it.

She shook her head. “Arrook pay.”

“Why? What could he possibly get out of my stone hall being in perfect shape? Also, why would he go to so much effort to get his niece to stay at my hall when she’s not remotely interested in music? She’s a bodyguard, not a musician. Also, why would he pay for stone workers? And why armor? It makes no sense. Also the harp. He really fixed my harp, and if he actually creates a custom harp for me…” I put my hand on my chest while my heart skipped a beat.

She put a large hand on my shoulder. “I want music.”

I gave her a skeptical glance. “At my hall?”

“You music warrior. Other musics weak. You crazy, not weak.” She gave my shoulder one delicate squeeze before she dropped it and we were outside the right classroom.

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