copses, forests, a placid lake, and the distant sparkle of a meandering river. Meadows and hedged fields were evidence of cultivation, but there was no sign of buildings. However, there was a well-made road, surfaced with compacted earth. In one direction it ran straight and open for as far as they could see. In the other it soon came to a bend at woodland and disappeared.
“Where’s the bitch got to now?” Haskeer grumbled as he surveyed the landscape. Pointedly, he didn’t ask the question of Dynahla.
“Out there somewhere, I guess.” Stryke swept a hand at the panorama.
“Not that I can see,” Jup said, “and her group should be big enough to spot.”
“The logical thing for her to have done was take the road,” Pepperdyne suggested. “That way, towards the bend.”
Coilla nodded. “And a good place for an ambush.”
“Then we’ll round it with care,” Stryke said. “Come on.”
The march wasn’t welcomed by everybody. Many of them were still drained and aching from the fight with the fire-breathers, in a world that seemed impossibly far away. Which, of course, it was.
Standeven wasn’t pleased either, though his discomfort came from a lifetime of indolence rather than anything as strenuous as fighting, or as dangerous. Abandoning his usual place near the rear of the group, he wormed his way to Pepperdyne who walked alone, Coilla being occupied with Stryke at the front.
“Oh,” Pepperdyne said on seeing him, “it’s you.”
“Yes, me. Your master and title-holder, though you seem to have forgotten it.”
“You just can’t get it through your head, can you? None of that means anything anymore. It’s a whole different game now.”
“It might be to you. I happen to think a pledge still means something.”
“Do you have any idea how ridiculous your blend of conceit and acting pitiable makes you look?”
“There was a time when you wouldn’t have dared to say a thing like that.”
Pepperdyne’s patience was running out. “Why are we talking? What do you want, Standeven?”
“I want to know how much longer this… charade ’s going to last.”
“Charade?”
“This leaping from one stinking place to another, of course.”
“This world doesn’t look too bad to me. If you’re so tired of what’s going on why don’t you settle here?”
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Anyway, unless we’re careful we might all end up being left somewhere we don’t want to be.”
“Meaning?”
Standeven nodded at Dynahla, walking at the head of the column with Stryke and Coilla. “You really think that freak can be trusted?”
That echoed Pepperdyne’s own doubts, but there was no way he was going to admit it to this man. “Seems to me Dynahla’s done more for this band than you ever did.”
“Enough to be handed the instrumentalities?”
“It always comes back to that with you, doesn’t it? Stryke knows what he’s doing.”
“Does he? Whatever you think about me, Jode, I’m not insane. I want to get out of this mess alive as much as you do. If you think Stryke’s going the right way about that, it’s on your own head.” He said no more, and let Pepperdyne walk on.
They were approaching the bend in the road. Stryke halted the column and sent four scouts ahead. He told four more to cut through the lip of the wood, in case there were any unpleasant surprises lurking in there. They soon returned with word that the way was clear. The band resumed its march.
The road took several other turns, although none were blind, until it curved round the base of a hill, obscuring whatever lay beyond. Taking no chances, they left the road and climbed to the hill’s summit. Looking down to the far side, they saw a lone building in the middle distance.
It wasn’t a farmhouse, as they might have expected. Seemingly made of stone, it more closely resembled a chateau or small castle. There was a low, round tower at each corner, and a large entrance with its doors wide open. Given its rustic setting it looked strangely incongruous.
Some figures could just about be seen moving around in front of the building. Beyond the fact that they walked upright and appeared to be dressed in white, they were too far away for any more details to be made out.
“Signs of life at last,” Coilla said.
“Yeah,” Stryke replied. “I wonder what kind.”
They moved down the hill, crossed the road bordering its foot and headed over the grassland.
“Sheathe your weapons but keep them handy,” Stryke ordered. “We don’t want to scare them off if they’re not hostile.”
“They look peaceable enough,” Spurral reckoned.
“If they are, maybe they’ll be able to tell us where Jennesta is.”
“You think she could be there, and Thirzarr?”
He shrugged.
“Keep your resolve, Stryke. We’ll find your mate.”
“Maybe.”
As the band approached, they were spotted by the white-clad beings, who simply stopped whatever they were doing and stared. They didn’t seem perturbed by the sight of an orc warband, a couple of dwarfs and several humans arriving out of nowhere.
When the Wolverines were close enough they finally got a good look at the creatures.
“They’re human.” The way Coilla said it expressed the surprise most of the band was feeling.
“Why shouldn’t they be?” Dynahla asked. “In an infinite number of worlds-”
“Yeah, I know. Anything’s possible. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
There were five of them, and the striking thing was how alike they were. All were male, if slightly androgynous in appearance, tall, slim and blond. They were ivory skinned and beardless. Their attire was identical, consisting of a white, smock-like garment covering them from neck to ankles. But their arms, and oddly their feet, were bare. By human standards they were handsome. Some would have said beautiful. From the expressions on their smiling faces their dispositions might have been called sunny.
“Humans grinning like fucking idiots,” Haskeer grated dourly, “that’s all we need.”
“Something’s not right here,” Pepperdyne said.
“Your race smiles,” Coilla told him. “I’m sure I saw you doing it once.”
“What I mean is not all humans look exactly the same.”
“You do to most orcs.”
“I’m serious, Coilla. This bunch are peas in a pod. It’s not natural.”
Standeven had gravitated to Pepperdyne’s side again. He was looking troubled as well.
Coilla noticed it. “What’s the matter with you two? Jode?”
“There’s something about them. I don’t know. Something… familiar.”
Standeven nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the supposed humans.
Stryke went ahead of the others, hand raised in a conciliatory gesture, and addressed the nearest being in Mutual. “We’ve come to you in peace.”
“Peace,” the creature repeated, his smile unfaltering.
“Yes. We don’t want anything of you.”
“You want nothing,” one of the others said.
Stryke looked to him. “Right. Except to ask a question.”
“A question?” That came from the third of the creatures.
Before Stryke could reply, the fourth said, “What question?”
“Er… we want to know if another group’s passed this way.”
“Another group, you say,” the fifth remarked.
Stryke was getting perplexed, but he was determined to persist. “A party led by a female who looks kind of… odd.”
“Odd?” the second, or possibly the third, echoed.
