Wolverines' astonishment, the resistance thought the warband might be these long-awaited saviours, or at least could be presented as such to inspire the masses.
The resistance stepped up their activity with the aim of provoking greater repression, in the hope that this would goad the placid majority of orcs into reacting. Sylandya's belief was that if pushed hard enough the orcs of Acurial would have their martial spirit rekindled.
A series of assaults on Peczan interests proved successful, until an ambitious raid on one of the occupiers' garrisons went disastrously wrong. Upping the stakes, the Wolverines launched a bid to assassinate Jennesta. This, too, was foiled, and ended with the sorceress gaining possession of four of the five instrumentalities. Stryke began to speculate that there could be a traitor in the resistance ranks, or perhaps nearer to home. Among those suspected were the humans Standeven and Pepperdyne, despite their apparent support for the rebellion.
Then the fifth star, which Stryke had entrusted to Coilla, was stolen from a resistance safe house. The presumption was that it, too, had fallen into Jennesta's hands.
As the comet made its appearance, dim but unmistakable, the Wolverines faced the prospect of being stranded in an alien world.
1
Only five of them were left alive.
They were four privates and an officer, the latter a female. Several bore wounds. All were close to panic.
The defence had been tough and bloody. But the company's ranks had finally broken under the onslaught, forcing the handful of survivors to retreat. They fell back from the breached gates and dashed for refuge. Behind them, the savage creatures poured in on a wave of fear and destruction.
Sprinting across the parade ground the five headed for a barracks block, a building of wood and stone, windowless and with a single door. They piled in and frantically barricaded the entrance with cots and lockers. Outside, the commotion carried on.
'This is one hell of a bolt-hole,' an infantrymen complained. 'There's no way out of here.' He was near the edge and, like the others, sweat-sheened and breathing hard.
'I don't get it,' a comrade said. 'These animals are supposed to be docile.'
' Docile? ' another retorted. 'Like hell!'
'What we going to do?' the fourth wanted to know.
' Get a grip,' their captain told them, doing her best to sound calm. 'There'll be support. We just need to sit tight.'
'Reinforcements, ma'am?' the first queried. 'It'll be a while before we see any out here on the fringes.'
'The more reason to stand firm. Now let's get those wounds seen to. And stay alert!'
They ripped up bedding for dressings and set to binding their injuries. Their captain got them checking their weapons, and scouring the barracks for more. She had them further reinforce the door. Anything to keep them occupied.
' Hey,' one of the troopers said, halting the activity. 'It's gone really quiet out there.'
They listened to the silence.
'Could be they've gone,' a comrade offered, instinctively whispering.
'Maybe the backup's arrived,' somebody added hopefully.
'So why can't we hear them?'
'Just the sight of reinforcements coming might've scared the creatures off.'
'Care for a wager on that?'
'Stow it!' the captain snapped. 'Chances are the raiders have pulled out. All we have to do '
A series of heavy thumps shook the door. They scrambled to it and threw their weight against the barricade. The pounding grew stronger, making the pile of furniture blocking it shudder. Fine clouds of dust began falling from the beamed ceiling.
Something hit the door with a tremendous crash, the shock wave jolting the defenders and sending part of the barricade tumbling. They hardly had time to brace themselves again before there was a second hefty impact. A cabinet toppled. Something made of pottery shattered.
The blows took on a regular, almost rhythmic pattern, each more jarring than the last. The door started to warp and splinter. The remains of their makeshift fortifications were weakening under the assault.
' We… can't hold… this! ' a straining trooper warned.
A battering ram smashed through the door, demolishing what was left of the barricade. Swinging again, the ram destroyed the vestiges of the door and sent debris flying.
The troopers quickly moved away. Save one, caught in the confined space and entangled by wreckage. There was a high-pitched whistle. An arrow flashed through the gaping entranceway and struck him. Two more instantly followed. He went down.
His companions retreated, weapons drawn, and backed along the aisle between the lines of camp beds on either side. Shadowy figures were swarming through the ruined entrance. Ugly, grotesque beasts. Monsters.
The soldiers upended cots and tossed them in their pursuers' path, hoping to slow their progress. A couple of the troopers had shields and deployed them in fear of more arrows. No arrows came, but the repellent creatures kept up their remorseless advance, leaping the obstacles or simply kicking them aside.
Soon the fleeing group came to the barracks' end, an area uncluttered with furnishings, and had no option but to make a stand. They gathered in a knot, backs to the wall, bracing themselves to brave the coming assault as best they could.
There was no let in the creatures' progress. They rushed onward, heedless of the bristling swords intended to keep them at bay.
A frenzy of colliding blades and clashing shields ensued. Soon, screams were added to the cacophony. A trooper collapsed, his skull split by an axe. Another lost an arm to the sweep of a broadsword, then succumbed to multiple stabbing.
The fight grew yet more feverish. Fuelled by desperation, the two remaining defenders battled with ever greater ferocity. In the blizzard of stinging steel one misjudged the tempo of the battering and left open his guard. A sword found his belly; another stroke sliced cleanly through his neck, sending his head bouncing to one side. The headless corpse stood for a second, gushing crimson, before it fell.
Only the captain remained. Bloodstained, panting, her blade near slipping from moist fingers, she readied herself for the final act.
The monsters could have attacked en masse and finished her in an instant. But they held back. Then just one came forward.
It took the captain a moment to realise that the creature was waiting to engage her. She raised her sword. The being mirrored her and they set to.
Silence had fallen again, save for the pealing clatter of their blades. She fenced well, for all she had suffered and witnessed. The beast matched her in skill, though its method relied more on power and a boldness that was almost reckless. Their duel ranged back and forth across the cramped barracks, but none of the other creatures impeded her or tried to join in. They merely watched.
The finale came when the captain suffered a deep gash to her sword arm. A swift follow-through saw her take a further wound to the flank. Staggering, she lost her footing and went down.
The creature stood over her. She looked up into its eyes. What she saw was something more than brutishness. The bestial was there, but tempered with what she could only think of as a kind of empathy. And, perhaps, even a hint of nobility.
It was a fantastical notion, and it was the last one she would ever have.
The monster plunged its blade into the captain's chest.
Wrenching her blade from the female's corpse, Coilla said, 'She fought well.'
'They all did,' Stryke agreed.
'For humans,' Haskeer sneered.
