Orcs (40 page)

Alfray peered into the trees. “Stryke, I think —”

Dozens of figures exploded on to the trail. The foremost were mounted, the second rank on foot. They were humans, every one of them dressed in black and heavily armed.

“Shit,” Jup gasped.

For an eternal second the two sides gaped at each other.

Then the spell was broken. Mutual shock evaporated.

Wheeling about, the humans started yelling and moved in to attack.

“We’re outnumbered two to one!” Alfray cried.

Stryke raised his sword. “So let’s cut down the odds!
No quarter!
”

The black-garbed horsemen charged. Stryke dug his mount’s flanks and led the band to meet them. Orcs and humans clashed with a roar and the sound of ringing steel.

Stryke barrelled into the foremost rider. The man flourished a broadsword, slicing the air as he leaned out to engage the orc’s blade. Their swords impacted twice before Stryke got under the other’s guard and hewed him at the waist. The human pitched to the ground. His empty horse ploughed into the enemy at its rear, adding to the confusion.

The human who took the fallen man’s place confirmed Stryke’s suspicion of easy victories. This was a much more formidable opponent. He was armed with a double-headed axe, and handled it with practised skill. They exchanged one or two blows. After that, Stryke tried to avoid his blade coming into contact with the axe, lest the heavier weapon snap it.

As they manoeuvred for advantage, Stryke’s sword collided with the axe’s wooden shank, splintering a notch. It didn’t noticeably slow the wielder. But soon the effort of swinging the cumbersome axe did. The man’s movements grew leaden, his reactions more prolonged. Not greatly, just enough to give Stryke a precious edge.

The marginal speed advantage allowed Stryke to send in a low pass. It ripped open the human’s thigh. He stayed in the saddle, but the pain served to throw him off his balance mentally. His defence went to pieces. Stryke targeted a stroke at his upper chest and it landed true. The human dropped his axe. His hands went to the gushing wound and he doubled over. Bolting, his horse carried him out of range.

A third antagonist instantly filled the void. Stryke commenced fencing again.

Alfray found himself having to deal with a rider on one side and a footsoldier on the other. The human on foot was the greater danger. Alfray took care of him by driving the pointed spar of the Wolverines’ banner into his chest. He went down, taking the lance and banner with him. Alfray turned his attention to the horseman. Their swords crossed. On the third strike the human’s blade was dashed from his grasp. A length of cold steel to the stomach put an end to him.

Clutching a short spear, another footsoldier tackled Alfray, who rained blows down on him. The spear was sliced in two, and before he could dodge, his skull was cleaved.

Individual fights boiled across and along the trail. A number of humans were trying to get round either side of the band and outflank them. Battling ferociously, the grunts held them back.

Finishing off a mounted human with a sword thrust, Jup didn’t notice a footsoldier arriving at his side. The man reached up, seized the dwarf’s leg and pulled him from his horse. Jup hit the ground heavily. Looming over him, the human raised his sword to deliver a death blow. Jup gathered his wits just in time to roll from it. Surprised in his dazed state to find he was still clutching his sword, he used it to chop at the human’s legs. Hamstrung and screaming, the man collapsed. Jup buried the sword in his ribcage.

Being on foot in such a tumult was unwise. Jup looked around frantically for a horse to mount. That ambition was delayed by a rider singling him out as easy prey. Stretching down from his saddle, the man hacked at him. Jup lifted his sword and began parrying blows. As much by chance as design, he hit lucky and knocked away his foe’s blade. Leaping to his feet, Jup slashed upwards with all the force he could muster, inflicting a wound in the human’s side. The man fell. Jup took his horse and rejoined the fray.

An arrow whistled past Stryke’s shoulder. Its source was one of two human archers further along the trail. Between batting off opponents’ advances, he saw the pair of Wolverine forward scouts returning. They galloped up behind the human bowmen and laid about them. Taken unawares, the archers succumbed. Stryke renewed his onslaught.

With a footsoldier attacking from each side of his mount, Alfray had his work cut out. Fending off one then turning to fight the other was exhausting. But they had hold of his horse’s trailing reins and left him no option.

Jup hastened in to even the odds. He tackled the human on Alfray’s left, chopping his blade deep into the man’s shoulder. Alfray himself concentrated on the remaining attacker. He was on the point of besting him when the two left flank scouts, alerted by the uproar, rode in to help. They made short work of the chore.

Stryke parted a human’s head from his shoulders with a powerful two-handed swipe. As the lifeless corpse dropped, he looked for his next opponent. But those still alive were retreating. Five or six, on foot and horseback, fled into the woods. Stryke yelled an order and a bunch of grunts rode off after them.

He went to Alfray, who was pulling the banner lance from the dead human’s chest.

“How do you figure our casualties?” Stryke asked.

“No fatalities, far as I can tell.” He was panting. “We were lucky.”

“They weren’t fighters. Not full-time anyway.”

Jup joined them. “Think they were after us, Captain?”

“No. A hunting party, I reckon.”

“I’ve heard humans hunt for pleasure, not just food.”

“That’s
barbaric
,” Alfray said, wiping blood from his face with the back of a sleeve.

“But typical of the race,” Stryke judged.

Grunts were already searching the enemy corpses, taking weapons and anything else useful.

“What do you think they were?” Alfray wondered. “Unis? Manis?”

Jup went to the nearest body and examined it. “Unis. Don’t the black outfits jog your memory? Kimball Hobrow’s guardians. From Trinity.”

“You sure?” Stryke said.

“I saw more of them than you did, and up close. I’m sure.”

Alfray stared at the body. “I thought we’d shaken off those maniacs.”

“We shouldn’t be surprised we haven’t,” Stryke replied. “They’re fanatics, and we took their star. Seems nobody’s too keen on letting us get away with that.” The grunts despatched after the fleeing humans came back, holding up their bloodied swords in triumph. “At least there’s fewer of them now,” he added.

Jup came away from the body. “Could they have taken Coilla and Haskeer?”

Stryke shrugged. “Who knows?”

A grunt ran to them holding a piece of rolled parchment. He handed it to Stryke. “Found this, sir. Thought it might be important.”

Stryke unrolled it and showed it to Alfray and Jup. Unlike the grunts, they could read, to varying levels of proficiency. Their task was made easier by it being in universal script.

“It’s about us!” Jup blurted.

“I think the whole band should hear this,” Stryke decided.

He called them all over, then asked Alfray to read it out.

“This seems to be a copy of a proclamation,” Alfray explained, “and it bears a likeness of Jennesta’s seal. The heart of it reads: ‘Be it known that by order of . . . ,’ well, by order of Jennesta, that, er, ‘. . . the orc warband attached to Her Majesty’s horde, and known as the Wolverines, are henceforth to be regarded as renegades and outlaws, and are no longer afforded the protection of this realm. Be it further known that a bounty of such precious coin, pellucid or land as may be appropriate will be paid upon production of the heads of the band’s officers. To wit . . .’ The names of the five officers follow that bit. Let’s see. It goes on, ‘Furthermore, a reward proportionate to their rank shall be paid for the return, dead or alive, of the band’s common troopers, answering to the names . . .’ Then it lists all the grunts. Even the comrades we’ve lost. It ends, ‘Be it known that any harbouring said outlaws . . .’ The usual sort of thing.”

He gave the scroll back to Stryke.

A pall of silence had descended over everyone present. Stryke broke it. “Well, this only bears out what most of us suspected, doesn’t it?”

“It’s kind of a shock to have it confirmed,” Jup commented dismally.

Alfray indicated the slain guardians. “Doesn’t this mean they were looking for us, Stryke?”

“Yes and no. I think we just blundered into each other this time. Though they must be in these parts because of their master, Hobrow, and the star we took. But plenty
will
be seeking us for the reward.” He sighed. “So. A moving target is hardest to hit. Let’s get on.”

As they rode out of the wood, Jup said, “Still, look on the bright side. For the first time in my life I’m worth something. Pity it’s only if I’m dead.”

Stryke smiled. “Look.” He pointed. To the west, far off, the hippogryph was making its way across the plain. “At least he escaped.”

Alfray nodded sagely. “Yes. Shame he won’t live much longer.”

“Thank you very much for that thought,” Jup told him.

They rode for another three or four hours, moving in a great circular sweep as they continued the fruitless search for their fellow band members. To make things worse, they hit a pocket of inclement weather. It was colder. Showers of icy rain and biting squalls came and went unpredictably. The damp, miserable atmosphere did little to lift the Wolverines’ morale.

For Stryke it was a time of reflection, and at length he made a decision, though what he settled on went against the grain. He halted the column by a grassy hillock. The advance and outflank guards were called in.

He urged his horse to the crest of the rise, the better to address them all. “I’ve decided on a different course of action,” he began without preamble, “and I reckon we’re best starting on it now.”

There was a low-key rumble of anticipation from the ranks.

“We’ve been running around like headless rocs looking for Haskeer and Coilla,” he went on. “There’s a bounty on us, and there might even be others after the stars. All hands are turned against us now. We have no friends, no allies. It’s time to take another tack.”

He scanned their rapt faces. Whatever they expected, it wasn’t what he said next. “We’re going to split the band.”

That brought a general outcry.

“
Why
, Stryke?” Jup shouted.

“You said we’d never do that,” Alfray added.

Stryke’s raised hands, and the expression on his face, killed their racket.
“Hear me!”
he bellowed. “I don’t mean splitting us permanently, just until we do what has to be done.”

“Which is what, chief?” Jup asked.

“Both finding Coilla and Haskeer, and at least checking on the possibility of a star at Drogan.”

Alfray looked far from happy. “You were against the band splitting before. What’s changed?”

“We didn’t know about the chance of another star before. Nor did we have proof that we were officially renegades, and all that follows from it. Finding our comrades isn’t our only priority now. I can’t see another way we can search for our friends
and
a further star without dividing.”

“You’re supposing Tannar was telling the truth about there being a star at Drogan. He could have been lying to save his skin.”

More than a few of the band murmured agreement on that point.

Stryke shook his head. “I think he was telling the truth.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“You’re right, Alfray, I can’t. But what have we got to lose in believing him?”

“Everything!”

“If you hadn’t noticed, that’s what we’re already gambling. There’s something else. Putting all our eggs in one basket might not be good at this time. With two groups, our enemies have less chance of getting us all. And if each group has one or more stars —”

“If!”
Jup retorted. “Remember, we still don’t know what the hell the stars do, what they’re
for
. It’s a gamble on a blind throw.”

“You’re right; we’re no nearer understanding their purpose than when we started, unless you count the stories Tannar told us. But we
do
know they have a value, if only because Jennesta’s after at least one of them. The power we can be certain they have is the power of possession. I still think that if we have them we’ve got something to bargain with, and that might just get us out of this mess. As I said, what have we got to lose?”

“Isn’t what you’re saying an argument for
keeping
the band split?” Alfray suggested.

“No, it’s not. These are unusual circumstances. We’re missing two band members and we have to do our best to find them. Wolverines stick together.”

“You still think of Haskeer as a member of this band? After what he’s done?”

“Yes, Stryke,” Jup agreed. “It looks like treachery. If we do find him, what are we going to do about him?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find him first, shall we? But even if he has betrayed us, is that any reason not to look for Coilla?”

Alfray sighed. “You’re not going to be moved on this, are you?”

Stryke shook his head.

“So what’s your plan?”

“I’ll lead half the band in continuing to search for Coilla and Haskeer. You, Alfray, will take the other half to Drogan and make contact with this Keppatawn.”

“What about me?” Jup said. “Which party do I go with?”

“Mine. Your farsight could be useful in the search.”

The dwarf looked a little rancorous. “The power’s fading, you know that.”

“Even so. We need every bit of help we can get.”

“What kind of welcome can I expect from centaurs?” Alfray wondered.

“We have no argument with them,” Stryke told him.

“We started out having no argument with
most
Maras-Dantians. Look how
that
turned out!”

“Just don’t do anything to offend them. You know how proud they can be.”

“They’re a warlike race.”

“So are we. That should give some mutual respect.”

“What do you expect me to do once I get there?” Alfray persisted. “Ask nicely if they’ve got a star and whether they’d give it to us?”