“That’s better than nothing. But here’s something you should be aware of. All I know about you is what you’ve told us. On the strength of that I’m trusting you. Betray that trust, or do anything that might harm Thirzarr, and you won’t be coming back from this mission, whatever happens to the rest of us. Got it?”
“I understand. You can rely on me, Stryke. Now unless there’s anything else, I’d like to prepare.”
“What does that involve?”
“Nothing too drastic. I just need to find a quiet corner for contemplation, to centre myself.”
“I need to do some preparing myself. I’ll send for you when it’s time.”
From the bridge, Coilla and Pepperdyne watched Stryke and the shape-changer part.
“Think we can trust him?” Pepperdyne said.
“Stryke seems to. Not that he has much choice. Though it’ll go badly for Dynahla if this is some kind of trick.”
“It’d go pretty badly for us as well.”
“The band’s used to being in tight spots.”
“It’s not the band I’m worried about. It’s you.”
“You’re worried about an orc going into a fight.” She had to smile. “That’s like worrying about a bird flying or whether a fish can swim.”
“Hunters bring down birds and fish lose out to hooks.”
“I’m not a fish or a bird, so I’ve nothing to worry about, have
I?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Look, Jode; my race lives for combat. It’s what we do. Or hadn’t you noticed? I’d have thought you’d understand, being a fighter yourself.”
“Only out of necessity.”
“And you get no pleasure from winning a fight? No rush of joy when you down an opponent?”
“Well… maybe. A bit. But I don’t relish putting my life on the line every day the way you do.”
“It’s in our nature. We fight, and we fight to kill. If death takes us, that’s the price we pay. Though we do our best to make damn sure it’s who we’re up against that does the paying. We trust to our skill, and to luck and to the Tetrad. If you want an orcs’ creed, that’s as near as I can get to it in words.”
“I’m not arguing about your nature, Coilla. That’s part of what I love about you, and I’d never change it. I only want you to be careful.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
Pepperdyne slapped his forehead with the heel of his palm in a gesture of mock exasperation, and they laughed.
“So what’s the plan?” he said. “How are we going about this raid?”
“Stryke’ll be briefing us shortly, but the idea’s to anchor well offshore and go over in boats. If we get there without being spotted we split into our two groups and the game’s on.”
“And if we are spotted?”
“Then it gets messy.”
It happened as Coilla said. All lights extinguished, the ship was anchored as far from the island as practicable. Dallog’s unit was left in charge. The rest of the band cautiously lowered the boats, and likewise in darkness, made for the shore using muffled oars.
The sea was obligingly calm. It did little to reduce the tension of the crossing. Eyes and ears sharp, silence imposed, they expected the alarm to be raised at any moment. But they reached the shore apparently unseen. There was no sign of Jennesta’s ships; the band assumed they were anchored on another side of the island.
The point at which they met the shore was rocky and too steep for a landing. So they moved along the coastline, keeping close, until they found a sandy beach. Clambering ashore, they headed for the shelter of trees, dragging the boats behind them.
To face Jennesta, they had to find her. Stryke sent out as many scouts as he could spare. Zoda, Prooq, Nep, Breggin and Orbon got the job. Treading lightly, they fanned out into the jungle. The rest of the Wolverines kept low and quiet, and waited.
It wasn’t a long vigil. The island was large, but Jennesta had seen no point in penetrating its interior to set up a temporary camp. Her force was located a short distance inland, and to the west. There were guards, of course; and Breggin and Zoda, who got nearest, thought Jennesta’s army might have grown. Stryke gave no time to wondering how that could be.
He ordered the band into its two groups. The larger, main force, lead by Haskeer, would follow the snatch squad but at a slower pace. At a prearranged spot it would stop and wait for its signal to attack. If the signal didn’t come, no one doubted they would go in anyway.
It was full night when Stryke headed off, with Jup, Coilla, Dynahla, Eldo and Reafdaw in tow, the latter pair carrying bows. Dynahla refused any kind of weapon beyond a small decorative dagger he always wore.
Coilla shot Pepperdyne a quick smile as they left. He returned a wink, braving Haskeer’s scowl.
The snatch squad travelled with measured speed, careful not to give themselves away. Soon they were out of sight of the main force at their rear. Following the scouts’ directions, they forged on through semi-jungle conditions, aggravating but far from impenetrable, until they came to clearer land. Moon and star shine were more plentiful here, and the band moved sure-footedly. At last they arrived at a grassy rise. Going up it on their bellies, they peeked over its crest at the vale below. They saw a cluster of tents, tethered horses, and figures outlined in the glow of cooking fires and armourers’ braziers.
Anticipating a possible refusal, Stryke left Dynahla out of dealing with guards. There seemed to be four, but they weren’t fixed. Their patrolling took them across the orcs’ path to the camp. Stryke thought to let Eldo’s and Reafdaw’s bows take care of them. The guards patrolled in pairs, which made the task easier. The trick was to eliminate one pair without the other knowing. That meant waiting until they were out of each other’s sight.
The four guards, having completed their rounds, were bunched together. Any attempt to drop them by Stryke’s two archers ran the risk of their targets raising the alarm before they could reload and reaim. But finally the guards parted, each pair moving away in opposite directions. Stryke sent Reafdaw and Eldo to the right, to shadow the duo walking that way. Hunters and prey soon disappeared from view. The other pair of guards, heading left, had also gone beyond seeing.
“How good are your archers?” Dynahla asked in a hushed tone.
“Good enough,” Stryke said. “It’s why I picked ’em.”
“What we have to be wary of,” Coilla explained, “is the guards going the other way.” She nodded to the left. “When they come back and don’t see the others-”
“It could be yelling time,” Jup finished for her.
Dynahla nodded.
They kept watching.
The wait was long enough that they were beginning to suspect something had gone wrong. Then Eldo and Reafdaw reappeared, giving the thumbs-up. At exactly the same time the two remaining guards returned. With frantic gestures Stryke and the others indicated this, and urged the grunts on. Doubled over, resembling loping apes, Eldo and Reafdaw started to run towards them.
The pair of guards returning from the left were in plain sight now. They were talking to each other, animatedly, and slowing. The absence of their comrades had been noted.
Eldo and Reafdaw arrived, breathing hard and scrabbling for arrows.
“Move it!” Stryke hissed. “ They know something’s wrong!”
The grunts had to rise above the crest of the hill to discharge their bows. As they did, one of the guards glanced their way and saw them. His mouth formed an “O.” It was too late. The arrows winged towards them, hitting true, and they went down without a sound.
“Come on!” Stryke ordered.
The squad scrambled over the rise and down into the vale.
