Orcs (78 page)

“Hobrow?” Krista mouthed.

“You know of him?” Coilla said.

“Of course. One of the more implacable of the Unis. And his followers are fanatical.”

“Tell us about it,” Jup contributed.

“Come on!” Stryke snapped. “To the gates!”

“Hold it!” Rellston bellowed. “
I’m
in charge of security here!”

“We’re professional fighters. We can help!”

“There’s no time to argue!” Krista reminded them. “Let the orcs help, Commander. I must be at the temple!” She ran off.

Looking disgusted, Rellston wheeled about his horse and galloped away.

The band ran for the gates.

Arriving minutes later, they found most of the orcs had got in, although a few stragglers were still on their way. A crowd of Manis had gathered, handing out weapons. Humans and orcs stood ready to close the gates. Haskeer was in the middle of the tide, mustering a defence.

Prooq came out of the mob and reported to Stryke. “Sir! Force of Hobrow’s men. Four, maybe five hundred. Right behind us.”

Orcs were still streaming through the gates, which had begun to shut.

Krenad arrived.

“Didn’t you say Jennesta would arrive first?” Stryke shouted at him.

“She’s either been held up or this is some breakaway group sent ahead by the Unis.”

“Does it
matter?
” Coilla complained. “They’re still attacking!”

Stryke took the point and started shouting orders. Between times he told Krenad how to deploy the deserter force.

Through the part-open gates they saw the remaining latecomers racing home. A large force of custodians was close behind. Once the orcs were safely through, many hands strained to close the doors.

Before they could, the first twenty or thirty custodians forced their way through. Defenders scattered. The Unis set about the crowd with swords and spears.

“Let’s get ’em!” Stryke yelled.

They flowed into the scrum as the gates were finally closed on a mass of Unis trying to get in. The defenders, mostly on foot, had their work cut out dealing with those that had made it through.

Haskeer adopted a typically direct solution. He lifted a barrel and hurled it at the next passing rider. It struck the man squarely, crashing him to the ground. The barrel shattered in an explosion of broken wood and metal hasps. Red wine showered everybody in reach.

“What a waste,” Jup sneered. He clamped a knife in his teeth and clambered to the top of the barrel’s mate. A custodian came close. Jup leapt at him. They plunged to the ground together in a battling tangle. The dwarf finished it with his knife. Then he was up and looking for another mark.

Coilla grabbed the reins of a riderless horse and quickly gained its saddle. Drawing her blade, she made for a Uni busy hacking at a couple of men with pikes. He turned to engage her. They swapped three or four passes before she inflicted a wound. The custodian fell and the pikemen rushed in to deal with him. Coilla quickly snatched the vacant horse’s bridle and held it until Stryke climbed on. Then they went hunting separately.

He made a first easy kill by chopping a Uni low to his back, freeing another horse. The next human put on a better fight. They hacked at each other as their mounts spun and reared. At last Stryke buried his sword in the enemy’s chest. This time the steed bolted, carrying the dead weight into a knot of Manis who unceremoniously pulled off the corpse. One of their number vaulted aboard and went looking for prey.

Alfray found himself the quarry. A Uni bore down on him, jabbing with a spear. He batted it away, backing to the wall. Suddenly a pair of orcs appeared and threw themselves at the rider. They tugged at him, dodging his flailing spear. His balance was ruined. He came to grief on the compacted earth, a grunt’s sword across his throat.

Jup downed a Uni with a lucky knife throw. Haskeer dragged one free of his horse and pummelled him senseless.

Greater numbers told, and in minutes the invaders were dead or dying.

Stryke and his officers gathered.

“That would have been just the opening salvo,” he told them. “Opportunistic, probably. We have to make this place secure before the rest get themselves organised.”

The bells took on a new urgency. They heard a distant roar.

A grunt they didn’t know ran up to pass on the word. “There’s trouble at the west gates! They couldn’t shut ’em in time!”

“Krenad!” Stryke shouted. “Half your group with me! You stay with the rest and guard these gates!”

Manis were already running west. A greater uproar rose from that direction. More bells rang out.

“This is going to get out of hand if we don’t act quickly!” Alfray bawled, climbing onto a commandeered horse.

Haskeer and Jup had rides too. The orc foot-soldiers moved to them
en masse
.

“All speed!” Stryke ordered, spurring hard.

He took his troops to the source of the turmoil.

13

The small army of orcs thundered through the streets, picking up citizenry as they went. Stryke and his officers rode. Bar a handful, the others ran.

Their passing added further confusion because many of Ruffetts View’s inhabitants had no idea who this unknown force was. Every few yards they had to be vouched for by Manis jogging with them who knew the score.

When they got to the west gates they were wide open.

A huge fight was boiling around the entrance, with many more custodians inside than at the other gates. Most of the defenders were on foot, though some mounted Manis swam through the sea of bodies. Commander Rellston was one of them. They could see his sword working up and down above the crowd.

More of the enemy were spilling in. The humans trying to close the doors had a hopeless task. As things stood, with their numbers almost equalling the defenders in the area, the raiders were near having the upper hand.

“What’s the plan, chief?” Jup asked.

“Take half the strength and engage the Unis in here. I’ll lead the other half for command of those gates.” Then he had the best orc riders brought to him, and told them, “Take our horses. What we need to do has to be on foot. Your targets are the Uni cavalry. Got that?”

The grunts mounted and stood ready.

“Coilla! Haskeer!” Stryke called out. “You’re with me for the gates! Alfray, follow Jup! Now get those troops mustered!”

A custodian was laying about the humans trying to close one of the gates. An arrow flew across the top of the crowd and downed him. A tattered cheer went up from those who saw it.

With a much larger number of orcs, many unused to their new commanders and band discipline, it took precious minutes to organise things. But Jup finally got his sixty or so grunts divided into five groups. He would lead one, Alfray another. Experienced grunts were given command of the remaining three.

The dwarf confided to the old warrior that he was worried about working with unknown soldiers.

“But they’re orcs! You can rely on them.”

“I never doubted that. But I don’t
know
them. Suppose there’s a bunch of dwarf haters in their ranks?”

Alfray almost laughed. “Don’t worry. They’re new, anxious to please. They’ll jump the right way.”

Stryke’s sixty were formed into a battle wedge. All the while he drummed into them that their only focus was the gates.

When everything was ready, Stryke yelled, “Hold until I give the word!” He elbowed himself into the prow of the wedge, sword and dagger drawn. Haskeer and Coilla stood beside him.

He bawled the order and a two-stage operation began.

The first required Jup and Alfray to soften up the opposition.

Their five groups went in, entering the fray from as many different directions. From the start they found they were expending as much energy on clearing Manis from their paths as engaging with their targets.

The squad Alfray fronted met little resistance at first. That was mostly due to spending several minutes reaching the first knot of wildly battling Unis. And once he got there, Alfray saw that beyond them, at the gates proper, Uni footsoldiers were spilling in. The enemy was dangerously near to establishing a foothold. Alfray began the work of thwarting that.

A custodian’s horse waded over and its rider picked Alfray to shower with blows. He could do little more than deflect them with his shield. While he looked for an opening to counterattack, another Uni joined in, battering at the raised swords of the troopers beside him.

Determination and seasoned skill got Alfray through his opponent’s guard. His blade raked the man’s outstretched arm. It was enough. Almost immediately another of Alfray’s squad rushed in to skewer the man on a pike, clearing him off his horse. The second rider was overcome by the sheer weight of half a dozen frenzied grunts.

Then there were no more horsemen ahead. But there were footmen aplenty. Alfray preferred that. It put things on a level.

He was about to pick a target from the plentiful supply when one chose him. A well-built and particularly mean-looking individual dashed in, howling, armed with a sword and hatchet.

Alfray blocked the first blow from the axe. He parried the sword and returned a swipe. All the while he was aware of the rest of his group engaging in vicious hand-to-hand combat. Over the racket he could hear Unis shouting praise and entreaties to their god.

There wasn’t much finesse in his duel with the Uni. It was a battering contest, down to the basics of strength and stamina. But Alfray had equipped himself with a shield, and in those conditions that gave him leverage. They chopped and hacked, pummelling each other’s blades, trying to do down the other by sheer slog.

Alfray felt his age, something he didn’t welcome this early in a conflict. But no sooner did he have the thought than it energised him. He began hitting out with greater force and wider swipes. The Uni started backing. Alfray blocked a cross with his shield. Then he sent out a blow of his own and it connected, gashing the man’s side. It wasn’t a profound wound, but pain had its way of wrecking a fighter’s concentration.

The Uni tried to rally, and did a reasonable job of fighting back, but it was downhill for him from there. Alfray found it easier to dodge the man’s subsequent passes as he waited for an opening. His chance came when the human put out a swipe too wide and too high. Alfray darted in and clashed his shield against the hatchet, neutralising it.

Then his sword flashed into the custodian’s heart.

Fights boiled all around. As Alfray withdrew from his kill, a grunt went down next to him with his skull shattered. He wasn’t a Wolverine.

Alfray faced another incomer’s blade.

A bird, or a watchtower lookout, might have discerned some pattern in the anarchy below. They would have seen Alfray’s group well into the mêlée, with Jup’s almost parallel. The other three squads would show as having eaten through the fighting mob to a lesser extent. But all were inexorably working their way to the heart of infection.

Stryke held his contingent back, awaiting the opportune moment.

Jup’s group was having no easier a time of it than any of the others. He saw comrades fall. Every step forward had to be paid for dearly, every kill was hard fought.

In unison with two of his squad, he managed to avoid the probing spear of a mounted Uni and help pull him from his saddle. The dwarf’s companions killed the spilt custodian. Jup made a snatch for the horse’s reins but the spooked animal bolted, trampling Manis and Unis alike. Confronted by a human looking for a mount, it reared and brought down his hooves on the unfortunate’s chest. Then the beast was lost in the scrum.

There was no time to worry about the loss. Jup’s detachment was embroiled in fights with more riders, and now Uni foot-soldiers had joined the quarrel.

Two black-uniformed, sword-toting fanatics closed in on him. His comrades were more than fully occupied; he would have to deal with the threat alone. He didn’t wait for the first of his foes to arrive. Yelling a battle cry, he powered into the man, slashing maniacally. The custodian immediately went on the defensive. All the while his companion weaved on the periphery, looking for a way through Jup’s fury.

He almost found it when the dwarf, swerving away from a thrust, stumbled and nearly fell. The second Uni rushed at him, sword levelled, with the intention of running him through. Jup deflected the blade and with swift instinct swiped his own across the man’s throat.

The first custodian wasn’t slow in trying to exact revenge. He took a chop at the dwarf’s legs, intending to hamstring him. Jup skipped aside and narrowly escaped the injury. Then he forced himself back on the man, windmilling his sword, giving his blood-lust its head. The Uni stood his ground, Jup gave him that, but it might have gone better with him if he hadn’t. A blur of muscle-aching swordplay turned the tide against him. At last, Jup laid his blade across the man’s face, cutting deep. He howled and his head went down. He was seen off with a hefty downward chop to the nape of his neck.

There was barely time for Jup to take a breath before a new contender stepped in to bait him.

Stryke judged the moment right to take in the wedge. He bellowed an order. Shields were raised. With Haskeer to his right and Coilla on his left, he plunged them into the mob. They bulldozed and booted aside Mani allies when they obstructed their course. Any Unis in reach were butchered. The wedge had the hardest job of all. They had to get to the very heart of the enemy breach, clear it and master the gates. Stryke wondered if a sixty-strong force would be enough.

He headed for the goal like a blinkered horse, cutting down anybody in black who got in the way. Haskeer and Coilla worked alongside, hacking, slashing, stabbing. A prickly, unstoppable leviathan, the wedge cut a swathe through the barrier of flesh, depositing a toll of dead and maimed in its wake. Stryke couldn’t say with honesty that its only casualties were from the enemy side.

They were about halfway, and the going was even harder, when something significant swam into view.

Commander Rellston.

He was on his horse but only just, stranded in the middle of a pack of Unis about to overwhelm him.