Orcs First Blood - Legion Of Thunder Part 24

Haskeer couldn't work out if the dwarf was being sarcastic, so he didn't reply.

All the way to the stables, near the main entrance, they were nervous of what might happen. At one point a pair of Watchers appeared ahead of them. Stryke signalled everybody to be calm and they walked past them without incident.

It seemed the homunculi didn't have any way of communicating over distances. Stryke speculated that perhaps that was another consequence of the fading magic.

They got to the stables. Their horses were collected, and another bought, without too much delay or attracting suspicion.

Back on the street, Jup said, 'Why don't we stay in three groups while we make our way out? Less attention.'

'Hang on,' Coilla put in. 'Won't it look suspicious when the first group leaves without collecting any weapons? Could go bad on groups two and three.'

'Perhaps they'll just a.s.sume we didn't bring any.'

'Orcs without weapons? Who's going to believe that?'

'Coilla's right,' Stryke decided. 'What we're going to do is staytogether. We get as near the main entrance as we can on foot then mount up and make a run for it.'

'You're the boss,' Jup conceded.

They were in sight of Hecklowe's main gate when a number of Watchers, perhaps a dozen or more, appeared a way behind them. They were marching purposefully in the same direction. A crowd was gath-ering and walking with them, aware that such a large number of the homunculi meant some kind of drama was about to unfold.

'For us, you think, Stryke?' Jup asked.

'Idon't think they're out for a ramble, Sergeant.' The band was further from the exit than he would have liked. But there was no choice now. 'Right, let's go for it! Mount up!'

They hurriedly obeyed as pa.s.sersby stared and pointed.

'Now move out!'

They spurred their horses and galloped for the open gates. Elves, gremlins and dwarves scattered, shaking fists and bawling insults.

The gallop became a charge. Up ahead, Stryke saw a Watcher start-ing to close the gate. It was heavy work, even for a creature of such prodigious strength, and went slowly.

Jup and Stryke got there first. Stryke took a chance and pulled up his horse. He sidled as close to the Watcher as he dared and booted it in the head. Coming in high, and with the added strength of a horse behind it, the blow toppled the creature. The Watchers tending the queue turned and made for Stryke. One came out of the guardhouse. Blades zinged from their palms.

Jup had stopped too. 'Get going!' Stryke told him.

The dwarf rode off, dispersing the crowd waiting to get in. There were outraged shouts.

Then the rest of the band tore through the gates. Stryke prodded his mount and went after them.

They left Hecklowe behind.

They didn't slow until they'd put a good five miles between themselves and the freeport. Getting a bearing on the trail to Drogan, they fell to exchanging stories of what had befallen them since they were parted. Only Haskeer had nothing to contribute.

Recounting her experiences with the bounty hunters, Coilla still burned with resentment at the way she'd been treated.

'I'm not going to forget it, Stryke. I vow I'll make them pay, the human sc.u.m. The worst thing was the feeling of... well, helplessness. I'd rather kill myself than let that happen again. And you know what kept going through my head?'

'No, tell me?'

'I kept thinking how it was just like our lives. Like the lives of all orcs. Born into somebody else's service, having to be loyal to a cause you haven't chosen, risking your life.'

They all saw her point.

'We're changing that,' Stryke said. 'Or at least trying to.'

'Even if it means dying I'll never go back to it,' she promised.

He wasn't alone in nodding agreement.

Coilla turned her attention to Haskeer. 'You haven't explained your behaviour yet.' Her tone was curt.

'It's not easy . . .' he began and trailed off.

Stryke spoke for him. 'Haskeer's not entirely sure what did happen. None of us is. I'll fill you in as we ride.'

'It's true,' Haskeer told her. 'And I'm . . . sorry.'

It wasn't a word he was accustomed to using, and Coilla was a little taken aback. But as she couldn't decide to accept his apology until she knew more, she didn't answer.

Stryke changed the subject. He told her about their encounter with Serapheim. She recounted hers.

'Something didn't ring true about that human,' she reckoned.

'I know what you mean.'

'Do we count him as an enemy or a friend? Not that I'm used to thinking of humans in friendly terms.'

'Well, we can't deny that he helped us find you by sending us to Hecklowe.'

'But what about the trap at the house?''Might not have been his fault. After all, he got us to the right place, didn't he?'

'The biggest mystery,' Jup said, 'is how he seemed to disappear each time. Particularly back there at the slaver's house.

I don't under-stand it.'

'He didn't come in,' Coilla supplied.

'It's obvious,' Stryke volunteered. 'He went over the wall, same as us.' He didn't entirely convince himself, let alone any of the others.

'And how does hesurvive?' Coilla added. 'If he really does wander the country unarmed, that is. These are times when even an armed orc does that at their peril.'

'Maybe heis mad,' Jup offered. 'Many of the insane seem to have the luck of the G.o.ds.'

Stryke sighed. 'Probably no sense in worrying about it. Whoever he is, chances are we'll never see him again.'

The strategy meeting was held in the usual cavernous chamber. It was a place that looked more organic than fas.h.i.+oned, and water freely flowed through it.

Adpar's military commanders and her Council of Elders were pres-ent. She was contemptuous of both, particularly the latter, whom she regarded as senile fools. But she had to concede to herself that even an absolute ruler needed help administering her subjects. She saw no reason to hide her disdain, however.

They fell silent as she addressed them. 'We are close to defeating the merz entirely,' she announced. 'Only two or three nests of the ver-min remain to be cleared. It is my command . . .' She paused and cor-rected herself for the sake of tiresome nyadd politics. 'It is my wish that this be achieved before summer is out. Or what pa.s.ses for the season these days. I don't have to tell you that thereal cold of winter will mean another year's delay. That isn't tolerable. It gives the enemy a chance to regroup, to ...breed.' An expression of disgust pa.s.sed across her face. 'Do any of you see a problem with that?' Her tone didn't exactly invite dissent.

She scanned their sombre, and in most cases compliant, faces. Then a bolder than normal swarm commander raised a webbed hand.

'Yes?' she asked imperiously.

'If it pleases your Majesty,' the officer replied, his voice edged with timorousness, 'there are logistic difficulties. The remaining merz colo-nies are the hardest to get to, and they're bound to be better defended now that our intentions are clear.'

'Your point?'

'There are bound to be casualties, Majesty.'

'I repeat: your point?'

'Majesty, we-'

'You think I'm concerned with the fact that a few lives may be lost? Evenmany lives? The realm is more important than any individual, as the swarm is more important than a single member. You, Com-mander, would do well to-'

Adpar stopped abruptly. A hand went to her head. She swayed.

'Majesty?' a nearby minion inquired.

Pain was coursing through her. It felt as though her heart was pump-ing fire and searing her veins.

'Majesty, are you all right?' the official asked again.

Agony clasped her chest. She thought she might faint. The thought of such a display of weakness gave her a little strength.

Her eyes had been closed. She hadn't realised. Several officials and a clutch of commanders were hovering around her.

'Would you like us to summon the healers. Majesty?' one of them asked anxiously.

'Healers? Healers? What need haveI of their kind? You think me in need of their attentions?'

'Er, no, Majesty,' the awed speaker replied. 'Not if you say so. Majesty.'

'Isay so! Your impertinence in bringing up the subject means this meeting is at an end.' She had to get away from them, and could only hope they didn't see through her flimsy excuses and haste. 'I'm retiring to my private chambers. We'll discuss military matters again later.'

All bowed as she left. None dared offer to help her. They exchanged alarmed looks as she slithered into the tunnel leading to her quarters.

Once she was out of sight, Adpar began gulping air. She leaned over, cupped her hands in water and splashed her face with it. The pain was worse. It rushed from her stomach to her throat. She retched blood.

For the first time in her life she felt afraid.

17.

Alfray and his group were near enough to Drogan that they could see the trees fringing Calyparr Inlet. They were no more than a couple of hours away.

The weather grew ever more unpredictable. As opposed to yester-day, for instance, today had been sunny and noticeably warmer. Many suspected that the varying strength of magic created pockets of good and bad weather.

Alfray was sure this was true. But one drawback of more clement weather was that it brought the fairies out. They mostly irritated the band, and led to much slapping of flesh, though some pre-ferred snacking on them.

Alfray and Kestix were discussing the relative merits of other warbands and their place in the league table every orc kept in his head. The conversation was interrupted by the sighting of two riders coming in from the east. They were dots at first, but riding all-out. Soon they were near enough to be seen properly.

'They're orcs, Corporal,' Kestix said.Nearer still, they were identified as Jad and Hystykk.

By the time they drew up, Alfray was alarmed. 'What's happened?' he asked. 'Where are the others?'

'Take it easy, Corporal, everything's OK,' Hystykk a.s.sured him. 'The others are following. We've got news.'

As it was an agreeable day, Jennesta decided to intimidate her general in the open air.

They were in a palace courtyard, with one of the citadel's ma.s.sive walls towering over them. There was nothing as frivolous as a seat. Allthat broke the drab aspect was a large open-topped water b.u.t.t. Its prosaic function was to feed horse troughs.

Mersadion stood in the wall's shadow. The queen faced him ten paces away. All things considered, he thought it incongruous that she should be the one in sunlight.

Jennesta was in full flow, berating him for his perceived shortcom-ings.

'. . . and still no word from those wretched bounty hunters or any of the many other agents you've sent out at the expense of my coffers.'

'No, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am.'

'And now, when I tell you I want to take a hand in events myself and ask you to muster a modest army, what do you do? You give me excuses.'

'Not so much excuses, my lady, with all due respect. But ten thou-sand is hardlymodest, and-'

'Are you telling me I don't have even that trifling number of fol-lowers and bonded orcs?' She fixed him with a withering stare. 'Are you saying that my popularity among the lower orders is insufficient to raise a meagre ten thousand willing to die for my cause?'

'Ofcourse not, Majesty! It isn't a question of loyalty but logistics. We can build the army you need, only not as quickly as you've decreed. We are, after all, stretched on several fronts at the moment and...'

His defence trailed off when he saw what she was doing.

Jennesta was silently mouthing something, and weaving an intricate conjuration with her hands. Eventually she cupped them, three or four inches apart. As he watched, spellbound, a small swirling cloud formed between her palms.

It looked like a miniature cyclone. She stared at it intently. Tiny streaks of yellow and white began rippling through the darkening mist, like diminutive lightning bolts. The little cloud, still twisting and flas.h.i.+ng, slowly moulded itself into a perfectly round form, about the size of an apple.

It started to glow. Soon it s.h.i.+ned brighter than any lamp, giving off a brilliance it was difficult to look at. Yet it was so beautiful that Mer-sadion couldn't tear his eyes away. Then he remembered the spell she had cast on a battlefield not long ago. It began in a similar way to this and ended with countless numbers of the enemy rendered sightless for the slaughter. A cold chill tickled his spine. He sent a silent prayer to the G.o.ds, begging their grace.

She removed one hand and laid flat the palm of the other, so that the radiant ball balanced on it just above the skin.

Mersadion's fear didn't lessen, but he remained transfixed.