VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTES: I revised the last part of chapter ten üüü I realized that it didn't work well with what was brewing in my mind so I had to change it. But it's actually a kind of minor change, although, I would appreciate it if you would read it.

HAVE FUN WITH THIS CHAPTER!!

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There were many times I considered myself to be right-minded and prudent. A person who knew her limits and a person who would not run headlong to peril. But it seemed to me that I had lost all my prudence, all my logic, and all my right-mindedness when I ran to the stables and saddled my horse brought in from the castle. I didn't know when I did pass Wistria's gates, but I knew that the rain was beating down my back and my mare, Taliza, was whinnying softly. Even more, I was only wearing the morning gown I had donned for breakfast. The raindrops fell on my back and went through the thin fabric of my gown. The hasty coiffure that I put my hair in was already slipping, my tawny locks clinging to my head. But none of this completely registered in my mind. There was only the girl's frantic screams for her sister's safety, and the sudden blankness as she pointed out the exact directions to Sikes.

Ely had tried to dissuade me with all her might. She even followed me to the stables. "Are you crazy, Catleya?! You're going to an ogre-infested farm just to talk! And without changing gowns first! You'll get killed!"

But I brushed away her worries and focused only on the woes of the girl.

And that was how I found myself galloping Taliza to Sikes.

My blood ran cold when I neared the farm. I could already hear shouts, ranging from the guttural roar of the ogres to the high pitched screams of women. There were sounds of metal against metal, which made we wonder. How could these ogres carry weapons? They were barbaric animal creatures, and swords were rare amongst them. Beyond the sounds of carnage, I could hear the crooning of the ogres. The taut muscles of Taliza suddenly relaxed. I quickly rode away from the farm.

If I were to endanger myself, I would not endanger my horse too. I rode to the safety of the forest and tied Taliza's reins to a tree. She was pacing slowly, her hooves going up and down, crushing the wet grass.

"Shush, girl," I whispered. "You will be safe here."

I then opened my saddlebag and took out a container of beeswax. I had always brought it around me so then I would be sure that ogres would not attack me. I placed it in my ears. Soon, I could only hear the muted whinnies of Taliza, and could only feel the thrash of rain around me.

I closed my eyes and wished for good luck. I took a deep breath and ran to the direction of the farm.

Whatever made me do this? But the girl's screams for her sister was enough. I knew that deep down I would try to help Owen out if he ever got into this kind of snitch. But then, he wouldn't be defenseless, now would he? No. The girl's sister was defenseless, and so were all the other unfortunate people in that farm.

Father had always told me to make use of my abilities to the extent. I should always use these abilities for those who need it. And I grew up with this philosophy. Whatever danger there was before me, I knew that I would be scared out of my wits. I knew that my cowardice would reveal itself. But how could I go against something I had believed since childhood? No, of course not, I couldn't.

Or maybe because I was manipulated by Father. Well, that was a rather funny thought on such a crisis. I was Catleya, a princess, a young girl, for crying out loud, and I was going head-on to a menace of ogres! I was completely and utterly crazy. But I couldn't stop now. I haven't had much experience with real vicious ogres… after all, in linguist school we had only practiced on one of the captive ogres. And these ogres were not as vicious as those who prowl the lands and ravage people.

This was real.

And I had never been more scared.

The farm of Sikes was already a battlefield. I froze behind a tree, trying to quickly note the whole scenario. It was grimmer than I had thought. Worse, I was beginning to feel that even with a linguist, efforts would be wasted. The travelers that had come across Sikes had been—fortunately—knights bearing arms, more than ready to fight against the aggressors. But the ogres were in an overwhelming amount. While each ogre tribe could compose into ten ogres, this particular band had about two tribes squeezed into them. The girl had been right. There were twenty ogres, but about seven of them were already defeated. 

I could hear many sounds that breached the barrier of beeswax in my ears. The groans of struggling men, and the screams of those innocents caught in between the fire. There were about ten ogres carrying weapons, a strange sight because ogres were too dull and stupid to handle one, more so to obtain one. The knights were nine in number, their horses carrying them high above the air from the ogres. But four of those horses had already succumbed to the beating of rain and brutal ogres, and the knights were left to fend for themselves without their steeds. Far beyond the farm, I could see the hazy figure of a carriage. The knights must have been accompanying an important personage, and had stopped to give their aid.

Many of the knights were sporting wounds on all sorts of places, and I almost swooned at the sight of it. Five ogres already were dead, with blood coming out of their chests and heads. Two ogres lied down on the muddy ground, their heaving, breathing chests separating them from the corpses. Their limbs were tied with thick rope to keep them from running when their consciousness would return. Their mouths were already gagged. Two of the knights had already exceeded their potential, and fell on top of the ground. But they were far from death, I could see with their agonized breathing.

Apparently, the ogres had seen the futility of charming their armored foes with their sweet adulations and pleas. They had turned to their brute strength to ward off these threats to their dinner. 

Catleya…you are not meant for this…you're meant for books and libraries…not bloodshed and violence, I thought miserably.

A large part of me wanted to turn around and run for home. Whatever I did, it would be useless. I would probably just lose my life and Kyrria would be bereft of another flower.

Another scream disturbed the air once more.

"Listen to me," I said in Ogrese. I remembered my mother's advice to me. "Don't forget! Honey and oil are an ogre's hated sauce," she told me mischievously, as her way. And I tried to coat my throat with honey and oil, endeavoring to mimic them in all ways.

But my voice was too soft, and coming behind a tree. It was more a frightened mew of a kitten than a commanding linguist.

"Listen!" I screamed in Ogrese.

One of the ogres stopped his advance on a knight. He was nearest to me, about ten feet away. The knight was bewildered with the sudden change of his enemy. The ogre turned to look at my direction, and hearing my voice, he listened. His face was slacked and drugged.

I sucked up my breath and walked forward. The knight noticed my approach and was alarmed.  The courage I had summoned with all my efforts suddenly vanished into a puff when I got near creation's vilest monsters. "L-listen to me ogre friend," I said, my voice quivering. The magic of my speech was going suddenly; the ogre's face slowly resuming its normally sadistic expression. Stop quivering! "Why do you waste your time with human blessing?" I asked him. "You know that these benefactors will help you. Let him…rope your hands and legs. When you do you will…" I loathed the hesitancy in my voice, but it seemed that Wistria had absorbed all my creative energies. "You will…get the whole population of giants for yourself. You will raise a farm very much like this one. Only that instead of harvesting vegetables and eggs, you would be breeding giants and eating their babies!"

The ogre was dazed out of his wits. The knight didn't hear a word of what I said, due to his beeswax. But he took the ogre's dazedness as a cue to tie his hands. He nodded to me, as if to say thank you, but I couldn't quite hear him.

I bit my lip nervously. There were still twelve more ogres, and I wasn't sure if I could handle them. It was good that all of the remaining ogres were engrossed with their own enemies. If they noticed me, unarmed and weak-looking for them, I would be attacked immediately. Ogres were fast if they wanted to, and if they all geared their interests to me, the knights wouldn't be able to stop them. And I could die.

I wouldn't be able to conquer them all mightily and easily alone. I could only hope that Lady Sylvia would come.

"Ogres," I called amiably. "Ogres, why do you spurn your blessings?"

Two stopped and stared at me. Hungrily. They ignored their foes and did what I feared. They came to me.

With my heart as frantic as the falling droplets of rain and my body shaking with fear, I collected all my wits. "These people are your benefactors," I quickly said. "They will give giant farms where you farm for giants instead of vegetables!"

My fear had shown through, and I couldn't get them to be bewitched.

I took another deep breath. "Imagine this, ogre friends. That you wake up after a nice doze in a comfortable haven and not in damp cave. You will wake up and you will no longer chase after your food. The slivers of giants would already be at your table, just waiting to be eaten."

They stopped.

"They would be steaming hot and fresh from the kitchen, with all the finest garnishing that you envy. They would have herbs and spices that come directly from a master cook. And best of all, they are yours, every day, whenever you want to eat delicious food especially for you. But how can you get this when you fight those who come to give to you? Do you want them to snatch back the fantasy with an opportunity to come true through them? If you let them tie you up and if you wait patiently, then you will get the coveted giant farm."

The two of them simultaneously dropped to the ground and sat. They held out their hands in almost comical way and waited for the anticipated rope. The knights they were supposed to be fighting immediately tied their outstretched arms and gagged them. Alright, so there were ten more to my troubles. I couldn't handle them all. Not with the fear piling up inside of me. It was no consolation that I had handled three ogres without any sort of injury.

Someone suddenly screamed, but I couldn't understand the words.

Then I saw an ogre fall on the ground beside me. The ground almost thudded when his body collapsed to the ground. I screamed in horror as I saw life oozing out of his body. I almost fell when I turned around and looked at who could have saved me from inevitable death.

The face was too familiar…of course; the last time we had met I had stomped away from him, furious albeit foolish. He had chastised me, lectured me, and reprimanded me about my not so flowery attitude.

"Tristan?" I said. But he couldn't hear me of course. He mouthed my name, seemingly filled with disbelief.

But then, his face was that of shock also. What is Catleya doing here? He was probably thinking. Well, what was he doing here? Shouldn't he be safely ensconced within the walls of the Ayorthaian citadel? Though, he couldn't hold on to his bewilderment for long. Instead, he nodded to me, and ran to help another fellow knight with an ogre. I was frozen again, no longer with fear. Tristan just saved me. The imp that tormented my childhood had struck down an ogre. I was grateful, more than, I was thrilled at the thought of it. But I couldn't quite explain it…what in the world was so thrilling about an ogre trying to sample your neck?

The sound of squealing carriage wheels penetrated the beeswax in my ears. I abruptly turned around and saw a carriage bearing the arms of Wistria. A Wistrian Lady jumped out of the carriage and surveyed the damage. She noticed her, and her eyes were narrowed.

I was in deep trouble, and the damnation I had so often affiliated with Wistria would truly come now.

But I knew that Lady Sylvia was no at all regretful of my presence. She knew as well as I that a person could not handle this alone.

We opened our mouths at the same time and tried to soothe the ogres with false promises in trickery. At the same time, the benevolent deceit mixed along with the bile that the blood and violence created in my stomach.

~*~

It was still raining hard. My gown was already soaked through and heavy. My hair was already a bedraggled tangle. I was shivering, not only from the cold, but also from the grotesque scenes around me. My teeth were chattering, my knees were shaking, and my hands were cold marble when compared to the same hands only yesterday. As I looked around, I saw all the damage done more clearly. All the animals had been freed and ran freely around the farm, still very much afraid of the ogres. The farm owners slowly came out of their hiding places. A woman was crying, and holding her children in her arms. The hazy silhouette of a carriage that I saw early on was now being driven to the farm. It was getting nearer.

When all the ogres had successfully succumbed to the spell of words, their hands were tied up and their mouths were gag. They watched stupidly as they saw the corpses of their old companions. They looked expectantly every time they would see the knights. But the knights would either look at them with loath or disgust, never returning the otherwise blissful faces the ogres displayed. Where was the giant farm? When will it come? Would it be near Fens? These questions probably raced across the minds of these ogres, all leaving a trace but never an answer. But soon, the magic would wear off. They would see the bleeding and lifeless bodies of their companions, and they would scream in fury and fear.

We took off our beeswax. The first thing I heard was Lady Sylvia shrieking at me.

It was amazing how such a petite creature could carry such an explosive anger. "What were you thinking, Catleya? Running away from the school and pursuing murderous ogres!! Why I never! Never in the history of Wistria has this…this kind of abomination happened! We never had a lady run out of Wistria, in the middle of breakfast, and wearing her day gown just to haul your supposed pampered self into a farm ravaged by atrocious, sanguineous ogres!! Oh sweet mother pioneer of Wistria's academy! Why of all the times do we have to be plagued by such an unruly lady?" She glared at me. "But that is not the worst of all the things that have been destined to happen. From among the one hundred students of Wistria, it had to be you, your Highness, to run away from the academy and…talk to ogres. A princess, someone who should display delicateness and docility, not rampaging emotions and festinate judgments! What can you say for yourself?"

I stared at her challengingly. While she was going through her tirade, I had not interrupted. It was all a strategy, I supposed. My answer would have more value if she had spoken more about the stupidities I had committed in less than an hour. I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing," I answered with a defiant tone that sent Lady Sylvia's eyebrow rising up. "Except that you would probably be wounded or dead had I not helped you with the ogres," I added in a flippant voice.

Lady Sylvia started to protest but it died in her mouth.

"If you'll excuse me, Lady Sylvia." I left her there. Before I face her wrath once again, I would have to settle things first with my unexpected rescuer. Lady Sylvia could just live with her beliefs, or whatever it was that was powering her overly conformed thoughts. My time should not be wasted on nonsense, especially when I knew I was absolutely right in disobeying their rules by coming here. The audacity of Lady Sylvia to conveniently forget my contribution in solving this problem! Besides, there were more pressing matters that should be addressed. A matter concerning a certain Ayorthaian prince.

I saw him knelt beside a knight who had wounded his arm. He was shaking his head, and spoke in low tones with him. He looked up and saw me. The man also looked at me, unsure of how to react. He whispered something to Tristan's ear. Despite the gravity of the situation, he managed a smirk. I could only stare at his smirking, unbelieving that he was actually there, when I thought I would never see him again. The amusing thing was his own disheveled state did not detract the handsomeness in his face—and I couldn't help but notice it. He still had the rapscallion gleam in his eyes, not to mention the smirk on his lips. He was watching me closely too, probably trying to conclude if it was a princess and not a beggar girl standing in front of him. He stood up.

"This is quite a spectacle: the princess of Kyrria, mud on her drenched gown, hair knowing no coiffure," he grinned when I glared at him, and he added, "and apparently savior to the Sikes farm."

"This is quite a spectacle also," I replied. "The prince of Ayortha, mud on his drenched tunic, blood on his sword, and a jester in all the wrong places." I shook my head. "But I do wish to thank you for making sure my life is still with me. Had you not…" I couldn't say it. It was as if my words were knotted in shambles inside my throat.

He nodded. He carelessly ran his hand through his sodden dark hair. "You shouldn't thank me, Catleya. I would have done so even if you weren't standing there. It is I who should thank you. We were in dire need of a linguist, and from what I had gathered from your," —he glanced at Lady Sylvia who was still busy hiding her chagrin— "vocal instructor you had risked both your enrollment in Wistria as well as your life."

"Do my ears deceive me? Tristan, the arrogant prince, is actually denying my thanks? Well, you should have taken it when you could because I prefer to keep my dignity intact rather than thank you," I replied but I smiled.

"Am I that impossible that you cannot even thank me at normal—not life threatening—situations?" He grinned. "But I should have known that if we needed a linguist from Wistria you would come. Although, your breakfast must have been distasteful, considering that you abandoned it to witness a more," —he hesitantly gestured at the obvious battlefield Sikes had become— "gruesome scene."

"There was no breakfast to abandon mainly because I was forbidden to partake in it due to my insolence."

He couldn't believe it; I saw it in face. But when it slowly dawned to him that I couldn't possibly lie about it, a small smile crossed his face. "I thought they were resolute, but I had underestimated their discipline. Albeit, I would much rather suffer an empty appetite rather than this." The shadow in his eyes completely exposed his sentiments. But I couldn't mention that dawning of a different Tristan to him…I just couldn't. It was as if I wanted to keep the knowledge that there was another man inside him, someone who didn't laugh at another's expense, and someone whose roguish looks and attitude became gossip as well as truth.

I shook my head. "You made me completely forget why I had come to you. Whatever are you doing here, so near Wistria and so far away from Ayortha? When I was visiting Ayortha while you guided me through the twisted alleyways, I had the strong impression that you did not want to leave."

The rogue in him came back. "My dear Catleya, you would not want to know."

"And why ever not?" I shot back.

"Because when we parted ways, you had shown a rather unenthusiastic response to her." At the pronoun, he smirked.

Her? Who was the her in his life the last time we parted? "Lady Amara," I answered, endeavoring to mask the ill I wished for her. "You are accompanying Lady Amara to Wistria, specifically to the weekly ball held on Friday," I concluded. An odd taste in my mouth was left when I finished my sentence.

He shrugged his shoulders. "News does run quickly amongst females."

I rolled my eyes. "What is that suppose to mean?" His second smirk meant that he would never answer me. "Never mind. But I just concluded. Although, I must warn you to stay away from a certain group of harpies who are bent on my destruction and your worship."

He raised his eyebrow. "Truly? Why should I avoid their doting? Do not tell me that you are jealous once again."

"You always wish I was jealous, Tristan. And I will leave you to that thought for now. I can never get anything out of you, so I might as well get my horse and ride back to Wistria. Anything is better that Lady Sylvia's seething hatred towards me."

I turned to leave but Tristan grabbed my hand. "No, stay. I'd think it would be for the better. You could join us in the carriage where you will be a great deal warmer. We wouldn't want the princess to catch a dreadful cold," he told me. "We are on the way to Wistria also. And what would be a more heroic return that in the midst of another one such as yourself."

His smoldering roguish look immediately made me want to punch him, but I had to laugh. "Fine. I don't want to catch a cold. But on the other hand, that punishment would be miniscule when compared to the one I will get from the formidable ladies of Wistria."

I looked around the farm. "But, Tristan…isn't it peculiar that such a large group of ogres would attack a nondescript farm?"

"I know." The expression on his face was replaced by something that was brooding and serious. "It could be that they would want to have a more abundant capture for food or they believe that strength comes in numbers. But ogres are not exactly sociable creatures—especially nomadic ogres such as these ones. But assuming that such a large number of ogres could band together as a tribe, I have to agree with you that Sikes is too small a farm to attack, much less provide for all of them. Ogres are greedy after all."

"I do not mean offense but it is common knowledge that ogres are not smartest of all creatures. But it could be that they realized they would have more food if they were more of their number. You said it yourself: they are greedy. And greed could propel them to do anything…but still, it is against their instinct to go in large numbers. There must be something about Sikes that held a particular interest to these ogres. Unless, of course, one of the ogres—a leader, I suppose—instructed them to band together and attack Sikes." I shrugged my shoulders. It was too complicated, but something was wrong. This was not a normal ogre attack.

He nodded. "Maybe. But why Sikes? Only a human could have interest on this. Because he or she could be the one who knows something special about Sikes. What if Sikes had a hidden stock of diamonds? Only a human could find out. Not ogres."

I scoffed, "That's impossible, Tristan, and you know that it cannot be done. The possibility of a human seeking assistance from ogres is very near impossible. No human would lower himself to that, and no ogre would ever listen to a human. That is, willingly, and they looked very willing to me. Frankly, ogre-human relations are not exactly blooming splendidly."

"But what if human and ogre could both get what they want? Wouldn't that be enough incentive to tolerate each other?"

"No it is not," I pressed. "You know all too well the endeavors of the kingdom of Kyrria to before to knock some sense into those ogres, to appease them even, but nothing works. It's against our own instincts to cooperate with them! Why should now be any different?"

"Maybe someone breached that barrier. Maybe even that someone who sent for these ogres, someone who could unify them in a way an ogre tribe leader, is part of the group of people who tried to establish positive relationships with ogres."

I shook my head. "Impossible. That was done five years ago, and I was there even if I was still eleven. They simply do not want to cooperate. They couldn't even communicate with us properly."

"But isn't the linguistic era at its peak? Isn't this the exact moment wherein you could control anybody through excellent Ogrese? You had shown that now. You controlled those ogres. Catleya," he said and took hold of my shoulders. "If you could do it to hostile ogres, what more if those ogres are actually…friendly?"

"They would never be friendly in the first place!" I answered vehemently. "It is downright impossible! Ogres cannot even establish their own kingdoms! They cannot even tolerate each other's presences, what more a human's?" Then I stopped. "But they have weapons. And I saw how they fought. They knew how to use it."

"I noticed that too," he answered speculatively. He let go of me and walked to one bloody carcass, and without flinching, took the sword from the dead ogre's still clutching hand. I stared at him, speechless. He was looking at the sword closely, as if taking note of every minor detail. He shook his head. I cautiously approached him, knowing that the sight of the ogre could send my constitution in shambles. He glanced at me. "I know you will not believe me so let me show you some visual evidence. Look at the hilt of this sword."

I looked. "So?  It looks like a typical sword with the loop guard, quillon, the annellet…it proves nothing except that they managed to steal from a blacksmith and learn how to use the weapons."

"Probably but did it ever happen? Surely, if a band of twenty ogres attacked a blacksmith, a mine, a weapon shop, and stole a bulk of weapons it would be common knowledge. This looks like a sword, of good workmanship, if I may add," he said. "But look at the loop guard? It is extending far from the grip of the hilt. Aside from that, the curve of the knuckle guard accommodates a hand that is large."

I scrutinized the blade he was holding. And yes, he was right. The metal that was curved away from the grip, the main handle, was rather extensive. If I placed my hand on the sword, a good two inches of air would occupy the space between the knuckle guard and my hand. And the knuckle guard was supposed to be close to the hand to prevent injury.

My eyes flew back to him. "Are you suggesting that—" I couldn't say it. It was far too bizarre, too sinister, to imagine.

He nodded grimly, dropping the sword to the ground. "Yes. Someone had made these swords for them."

~*~

Sorry again for the delayed update…it is summer here and I'm still busy…Life oh life oh life. I hope you like this chapter although I must admit that I'm not exactly the best at chronicling bloody battles :P I'm human!!

This is an IMPORTANT chapter. Ok? So keep it in mind?

As for the details on the swords of the ogres, please feel free to browse the sites I accessed to have more information. Üüüü you'd understand it even more (despite my lousy description…sorry üüüü) and you'll visualize it even more too! üüüü diness üüüü