Urgot and the Last Human
‘Please, Sir, tell me you’ve a room,’ Tivat asked the barman. The Prince’s Foot was a rickety old tavern, with a sign that squeaked and rattled with the wind and the rain. ‘I’ve travelled all day in this.’
‘You’re in luck,’ the owner replied. ‘I’ve one room left. It’s not much, but it’s better than taking your chances in the storm.’
Tivat thought he’d as likely sleep with the dogs as go back out in the storm. He handed over the last of his silver coins for a meal and a bed.
‘Go sit down in there, I’ll bring your stew and ale out.’ The tavern owner nodded his head through a set of doors.
‘Thank you, you’re too kind.’ Tivat thought about making a joke, something about the name… the Prince’s Foot. About what had happened to the rest of him… but he didn’t feel that he had another joke in him.
The owner hawked and spat in a bucket. ‘It’s nothing. There’s a story teller in there. Best around.’
Inside, everyone was gathered around the fire. Listening to some tale or other. Damp straw squelched under his boots as Tivat made his way to the corner. He’d no plan to join the group. Instead, he’d eat his stew in peace and go to bed. Put this wasted journey behind him.
‘And that was when we saw him, the troll known in these parts as Urgot.’
A man with a large beard and patch over his eye was closest to the fire, his cheeks red with the flames. Tivat cared nothing for a tale about a troll. They weren’t known for their quick wit, or their quick hands. He found a table deep in the corner and tried to ignore the growing crowd about the fire.
‘The earth rattled with the sound of us,’ the one-eyed man said, banging his hands on his knees like the gallop of a horse. ‘We were ten strong and women too, since they’d come to watch my master, the Prince, defeat the monstrous troll.’
‘Was he very monstrous?’ Asked a woman. Red lips. Red cheeks and a red dress. Tivat thought she looked like a giant red tulip.
‘Aye. Very.’ The one-eyed man said. ‘He was waiting for us, by the bridge like.’
‘“Who goes there?” he called, as our horses ground to a halt. That is when my master spoke.
“It is I, Prince Babington, come to defeat the monstrous troll who lives beneath this bridge.”
Master was small but fast, but Urgot was bigger than we expected. Like an elephant. With one tooth. It hurt our eyes to look upon him. The women screamed at the sight of him.’
Tivat looked down and was surprised to see he was still wearing his outer cloak. He hadn’t taken it off, listening to the story.
‘What happened next?’ The lady in red asked.
‘Urgot said that he’d eat the Prince, except he’d given up humans altogether, since they gave him indigestion.’
Tivat laughed. He was the only person who did. He’d seen drawings of Prince Babington, in books he loaned from the bookshop in his village. He thought the Prince an angry-looking fellow—short and spiteful-looking with a pointed face.
‘The Prince leapt from his horse,’ the one-eyed man continued.
‘What was he wearing?’ An old lady, draped in shawls interrupted.
‘Stop interrupting him,’ the woman in red pecked. ‘Yes, let him get on with it.’
The one-eyed man closed his good eye, picturing the scene.
‘A fine red tunic rimmed with gold. As befitting a Prince of the realm.’ The Prince said
‘“Riddle me this, monstrous troll.
I have no legs, yet I run with might,
I wear no cloak, yet hide from sight.
I speak in echoes, roar and hush —
Cross me wrong, and feel my crush.”
“You know, that’s not really how this works.” Urgot answered.
“If you answer my riddle,” master replied, “I will banish you, but let you live, monstrous troll. Fail to answer and you die.” He drew out his long sword.
“So, troll, will you answer my riddle?”
“Knock, knock,” Came Urgot’s terrible reply.
“Er, who’s there?”
“Goblin.”
“Golbin who?”
“Goblin up all the snacks before you got here.”’
‘The Prince charged.’ The one-eyed man stood now, waving his arms. ‘But Urgot was too monstrous, too terrifying. He batted him away, knocked him down like a feather. Said he’d given up eating humans but he’d make an exception.’
‘“Knock, knock.” He said again. We came to realise then, that this was his cry of war.
The Prince drew his small dagger, we’d told him to go for the eye, always the eye, and he’d forbade us from stepping in. Still, I couldn’t stand by and watch, I ran at Urgot. You can see what happened next.’
He waved a hand at his face, at his missing eye. He spoke again, faster and faster, his voice rising.
‘The brave Prince charged again. Now determined to avenge my eye and rid the world of this monstrous troll.’
“Disgusting troll,’ he called, “Monstrous troll. Put me down so that I might end you.”
Urgot had him in his grasp, holding him aloft by his ankle. “There’s more meat on a duck’s beak than on you.”
“Let him go!” One of the men shouts. “He’s a Prince.”
“Aye and a stupid one at that. I’ll let him go if he promises to leave me be. I just want to go back to bed to be honest.”
“We don’t bargain with you, troll. I’ll never leave you to rest.”
‘How could he? A Prince take orders from a troll. He jabbed again.
“Suit yourself.” Urgot opened his mouth and threw him down.
“Disgusting,” He spat, his mouth full of Prince, “bitter like I expected. He’s the worst of your kind. Like rotted meat.”
After that, there was screaming. Horses rearing as riders tried to pull at their reigns. Blood dripped from my empty eye.’
‘What happened next?’ The old lady asked.
‘We fled, of course. The troll had proved to be more monstrous than we believed him to be. He belched, the most stomach-churning belch I ever heard, the Prince’s foot falling from his mighty jaws.’
He raised his voice at the end, his hands shadows on the wall behind him. The children in the group screamed.
From somewhere outside, the door to the tavern was pounded upon.
Knock. Knock.
Urgot and the Last Human
‘Please, Sir, tell me you’ve a room,’ Tivat asked the barman. The Prince’s Foot was a rickety old tavern, with a sign that squeaked and rattled with the wind and the rain. ‘I’ve travelled all day in this.’
‘You’re in luck,’ the owner replied. ‘I’ve one room left. It’s not much, but it’s better than taking your chances in the storm.’
Tivat thought he’d as likely sleep with the dogs as go back out in the storm. He handed over the last of his silver coins for a meal and a bed.
‘Go sit down in there, I’ll bring your stew and ale out.’ The tavern owner nodded his head through a set of doors.
‘Thank you, you’re too kind.’ Tivat thought about making a joke, something about the name… the Prince’s Foot. About what had happened to the rest of him… but he didn’t feel that he had another joke in him.
The owner hawked and spat in a bucket. ‘It’s nothing. There’s a story teller in there. Best around.’
Inside, everyone was gathered around the fire. Listening to some tale or other. Damp straw squelched under his boots as Tivat made his way to the corner. He’d no plan to join the group. Instead, he’d eat his stew in peace and go to bed. Put this wasted journey behind him.
‘And that was when we saw him, the troll known in these parts as Urgot.’
A man with a large beard and patch over his eye was closest to the fire, his cheeks red with the flames. Tivat cared nothing for a tale about a troll. They weren’t known for their quick wit, or their quick hands. He found a table deep in the corner and tried to ignore the growing crowd about the fire.
‘The earth rattled with the sound of us,’ the one-eyed man said, banging his hands on his knees like the gallop of a horse. ‘We were ten strong and women too, since they’d come to watch my master, the Prince, defeat the monstrous troll.’
‘Was he very monstrous?’ Asked a woman. Red lips. Red cheeks and a red dress. Tivat thought she looked like a giant red tulip.
‘Aye. Very.’ The one-eyed man said. ‘He was waiting for us, by the bridge like.’
‘“Who goes there?” he called, as our horses ground to a halt. That is when my master spoke.
“It is I, Prince Babington, come to defeat the monstrous troll who lives beneath this bridge.”
Master was small but fast, but Urgot was bigger than we expected. Like an elephant. With one tooth. It hurt our eyes to look upon him. The women screamed at the sight of him.’
Tivat looked down and was surprised to see he was still wearing his outer cloak. He hadn’t taken it off, listening to the story.
‘What happened next?’ The lady in red asked.
‘Urgot said that he’d eat the Prince, except he’d given up humans altogether, since they gave him indigestion.’
Tivat laughed. He was the only person who did. He’d seen drawings of Prince Babington, in books he loaned from the bookshop in his village. He thought the Prince an angry-looking fellow—short and spiteful-looking with a pointed face.
‘The Prince leapt from his horse,’ the one-eyed man continued.
‘What was he wearing?’ An old lady, draped in shawls interrupted.
‘Stop interrupting him,’ the woman in red pecked. ‘Yes, let him get on with it.’
The one-eyed man closed his good eye, picturing the scene.
‘A fine red tunic rimmed with gold. As befitting a Prince of the realm.’ The Prince said
‘“Riddle me this, monstrous troll.
I have no legs, yet I run with might,
I wear no cloak, yet hide from sight.
I speak in echoes, roar and hush —
Cross me wrong, and feel my crush.”
“You know, that’s not really how this works.” Urgot answered.
“If you answer my riddle,” master replied, “I will banish you, but let you live, monstrous troll. Fail to answer and you die.” He drew out his long sword.
“So, troll, will you answer my riddle?”
“Knock, knock,” Came Urgot’s terrible reply.
“Er, who’s there?”
“Goblin.”
“Golbin who?”
“Goblin up all the snacks before you got here.”’
‘The Prince charged.’ The one-eyed man stood now, waving his arms. ‘But Urgot was too monstrous, too terrifying. He batted him away, knocked him down like a feather. Said he’d given up eating humans but he’d make an exception.’
‘“Knock, knock.” He said again. We came to realise then, that this was his cry of war.
The Prince drew his small dagger, we’d told him to go for the eye, always the eye, and he’d forbade us from stepping in. Still, I couldn’t stand by and watch, I ran at Urgot. You can see what happened next.’
He waved a hand at his face, at his missing eye. He spoke again, faster and faster, his voice rising.
‘The brave Prince charged again. Now determined to avenge my eye and rid the world of this monstrous troll.’
“Disgusting troll,’ he called, “Monstrous troll. Put me down so that I might end you.”
Urgot had him in his grasp, holding him aloft by his ankle. “There’s more meat on a duck’s beak than on you.”
“Let him go!” One of the men shouts. “He’s a Prince.”
“Aye and a stupid one at that. I’ll let him go if he promises to leave me be. I just want to go back to bed to be honest.”
“We don’t bargain with you, troll. I’ll never leave you to rest.”
‘How could he? A Prince take orders from a troll. He jabbed again.
“Suit yourself.” Urgot opened his mouth and threw him down.
“Disgusting,” He spat, his mouth full of Prince, “bitter like I expected. He’s the worst of your kind. Like rotted meat.”
After that, there was screaming. Horses rearing as riders tried to pull at their reigns. Blood dripped from my empty eye.’
‘What happened next?’ The old lady asked.
‘We fled, of course. The troll had proved to be more monstrous than we believed him to be. He belched, the most stomach-churning belch I ever heard, the Prince’s foot falling from his mighty jaws.’
He raised his voice at the end, his hands shadows on the wall behind him. The children in the group screamed.
From somewhere outside, the door to the tavern was pounded upon.
Knock. Knock.