down. 'We need to move fast,' he told the others. 'Follow me.' He climbed out.
He was near one of the fort's outer walls, on the edge of its parade ground. The gates could be seen on the far side of the square. There were several stone buildings a short sprint from where Stryke stood. He could see men on the battlements above, but as far as he could tell, no one had spotted him.
The others began scrambling out of the hole. He hurried things on, directing them to shelter by one of the outbuildings.
When Chillder emerged he pulled her to one side. 'Where would we have come out if we stuck to the plan?'
She got her bearings. Then she pointed to a large building about a hundred paces away. It was plain, with few windows, set high, and could have been a barracks. 'On the other side of that.'
Stryke sent her to join the others. He kept an eye on the place she indicated until the last of his party came up. Then he hurried after them, keeping low.
'So what did we avoid?' Chillder wanted to know, still doubtful.
'Whatever it is,' Stryke told her, 'it's behind that barracks.'
A commotion interrupted them. They looked to the square. Dozens of soldiers were running towards the gates.
'They've spotted Brelan,' Stryke said.
Coilla drew her sword. 'Then let's stop 'em.'
'I don't like having that at our backs.' He nodded at the barracks.
'So what do we do?'
'Split our forces,' he quickly decided. 'You and the Vixens as one unit; Jup and me take the rest.'
Coilla fished out a coin. 'Call.' She flipped it.
'Heads.'
She caught the coin and slapped it on the back of her hand. 'Heads it is. What do you want?'
'You get the gate.'
She gestured to Chillder, Spurral and the other females. They peeled off from the group and followed her.
Stryke, Jup and the remainder of the party sprinted for the barracks.
They reached its nearest wall and flowed round to the side, lessening the chance of being seen from the square. It was a wonder to Stryke that no one up on the parapet had noticed them yet. But they seemed to be concentrating on whatever was happening outside the fort. He had a couple of his archers keep watch.
Signalling the others to hold their position, he and Jup crept to the corner and peered round it. Some twenty or thirty paces along, in the broad space between the barracks and the fortress wall, there was a large group of soldiers. They stood silently in a wide circle, weapons drawn, staring at the ground.
'That was our welcome,' Stryke whispered.
'How did they know?' Jup asked.
'Good question.'
They stealthily withdrew and rejoined the rest of the group.
With gestures and soft words, Stryke filled them in. Then he divided his force. Half, led by Jup, were sent to one end of the barracks. He took the other half to the opposite end. A lone orc lingered midway, ready to signal when they were in position.
Once he did, the two groups poured around the corners of the building. They charged the startled would-be ambushers from both sides, bellowing war cries, and fell upon them.
The Vixens were halfway to the gates before they were spotted.
Soldiers rushed to engage them. Arrows winged from the battlements.
Coilla, Spurral and Chillder were in the vanguard, and they tore into the humans with savagery. Thirty screaming females, wildly slashing steel, set about the troops like a flock of blood-lusting harpies. A dozen lethal brawls boiled in the middle of the square. More soldiers dashed towards the maelstrom.
There was a tremendous crash. The gates exploded inwards, crushing defenders on either side as Brelan's horseless wagon hurtled through. It ploughed into fleeing troopers, shattering their bones and bouncing over their broken bodies.
The wagon rumbled on across the square, humans scattering in its path. It demolished the corner of a storehouse, but kept going, though its speed reduced. Finally it smacked dead centre into the side of another, sturdier building, where its ram buried itself in the brickwork.
Its payload of bellowing orcs leapt free and charged into the fray.
Then the mayhem started in earnest.
27
' Now! ' Pepperdyne yelled.
He and Bhose gripped the steering lever. Behind them, the orc attack team braced themselves. The pushing crew shoved the wagon over the lip of the hill and sent it on its downward path.
Pepperdyne could clearly see the damage to the fortress gates, and, on the battlements, more defenders than before. The orc archers sent out another volley, and human bowmen responded.
'We've used up the element of surprise,' Pepperdyne said, the wind whipping his hair. 'This could be rougher than Brelan's ride.'
Bhose nodded grimly.
As they gathered speed, the human gazed at the fortress and added, 'I wonder what the hell's going on inside there.'
Stryke and his team had made the space behind the barracks block a rat trap. Now it was a bloodbath.
The humans outnumbered the orcs two to one. Stryke's group had the advantage of ambushing the ambushers, and they had orcish ferocity. But with nowhere to run the humans fought with equal aggression.
It seemed to Jup that there was an endless supply of heads to crack and ribs to cave in. Deftly wielding his staff, he obliged. Though his style was somewhat cramped by fighting in such a confined space. He overcame the restriction, and his short stature, by employing a technique that had served him well in the past.
Attacking his opponents' lower limbs, he worked on toppling them. Brought down to his level they were ripe for lethal blows, or quick lunges from the thin-bladed dagger strapped to his palm.
Stryke preferred a sword and knife combination in close quarters combat. When a hulking trooper loomed up ahead of him, he lashed out with the knife, catching him in the chest. Then he used it the way a butcher uses a hook, hoisting the human forward, on to the sword's blade. The man had hardly dropped before another took his place. Stryke felled him too, hacking deep into his neck and letting loose a jet of scarlet.
Venting their hatred for the oppressors, the rest of the orcs toiled as hard, reaping a harvest of rent flesh and severed limbs. In short order the number of dead and wounded mounted. The surviving soldiers retreated, making a last stand with their backs to the wall. Stryke's team pressed in on them.
The fighting was much more widely dispersed on the parade ground. Brelan's group had got clear of their wagon and united with the Vixens. Half of them were archers, and they fell into exchanging fire with the bowmen on the parapets. The rest pitched into the general melee.
Coilla was embroiled with a young officer whose fencing skills were superior to any human she'd so far encountered in Acurial. It was the last thing she needed, and she battled hard to finish it quickly. But she was stymied by his flair for warding off every blow she threw at him.
She spent precious seconds thrusting, feigning, spinning and dodging before her impatience turned to fury. Ignoring caution she turned to brute might. Thrashing wildly, she powered through his defence. Before he got his guard back up she delivered a heavy whack to his sword arm with the flat of her blade. Her reward was a loud crack as the bone shattered. The officer cried out, the weapon slipping from his insensate hand. Coilla instantly followed through, landing a solid hit to his chest.
Internal organs ruptured, he went down spitting blood.
She found herself shoulder to shoulder with Brelan.
