debt. The man with the broadsword took three arrows, any one of them fatal. His comrade caught two. For good measure, several Wolverines ran forward to add their wrath with steel and spears.
There was no let to the band's fury. Any humans venturing close were slashed, flayed, mauled, cut down. Soon, their numbers and their resolve ebbed away. With over half their company lying dead or mortally wounded, the raiders retreated. They rode off, back towards the plain.
The Wolverines expelled a collective breath. Yunst and Liffin's corpses were retrieved. The band took to binding their injuries and wiping their blades.
'That's a fucking good start!' Haskeer raged. 'Two dead, and one of 'em Liffin!'
'We take losses,' Stryke told him evenly, 'it's part of the job. You know that.'
'At this rate we'll all be dead before we even find Jup! Not an hour gone and this happens!'
'Anger won't bring them back,' Coilla said.
Haskeer wasn't mollified. 'We should never have lost 'em! Or Liffin at any rate. I don't care about the tyro, but Liffin was an old hand. And he threw his life away for… what? That… little shit!'
'He died for the band. We look out for each other, remember?'
'There's some not worth looking out for. If I had my way — '
Wheam appeared, still clutching his broken sword. 'I wanted… I wanted to say I'm sorry about — '
' You cowardly bastard! ' Haskeer shrieked. 'I could kill you for what you just did!'
'That's enough!' Stryke cautioned.
Sheepishly, Wheam tried again. 'I didn't mean — '
'Liffin was worth ten of you,' Haskeer thundered, 'you snivelling heap of crap!'
'Shut it, Haskeer!' Stryke ordered.
'I'll shut him!' He lunged at Wheam and slammed his palms against his chest, sending him sprawling. Then he went for a knife.
Stryke and Coilla grabbed him, pinning his arms.
' I said that's enough! ' Stryke bellowed in his sergeant's ear. 'I'll have no insubordination in this band!'
'All right, all right.' Haskeer quit struggling and they loosened their hold. He shrugged them off.
'Any more of that and I'll break you back to private,' Stryke promised. 'Understand?'
Haskeer gave a grudging nod. 'But this ain't over,' he growled. He jabbed a finger in Wheam's direction. 'Just keep that freak away from me.'
7
They should have honoured tradition and disposed of their dead with flame. But they couldn't afford the attention fire might bring. So they buried Liffin and Yunst deep, their swords in their hands. Dallog proved adept at carving, and fashioned small markers bearing the symbols of Neaphetar and Wystendel, the orc gods of war and comradeship.
By the time that was done, and some of the humans' abandoned horses were tracked down, a good chunk of the day had gone. At last, with the watery sun high, the band set out for the dwarves' homeland.
There weren't enough mounts for everybody, even with doubling up, and a third of the band had to take turns walking. The sole exception was Haskeer, whose mood was so foul Stryke encouraged him to ride alone. And he saw to it that Wheam, paired with Dallog, was as far away from the sergeant as possible. None of it made for rapid progress.
Stryke and Coilla headed the party, sharing a ride, and tried to take a route offering fewest chances for ambush. The landscape was chill and miserable, and they saw no other living creature in four hours of travelling. No one was particularly talkative, and the convoy moved quietly.
Coilla broke the silence, albeit in an undertone. 'He was right, you know, Stryke.'
'Hmm?'
'Haskeer. Not the way he acted; what he said. We've not started well.'
'No.'
'I feel bad about Liffin. He was a brother in arms, and we've been through a lot with him. But I feel worse about Yunst somehow. What with it being his first time out, and depending on us to — '
'I know.'
'Don't think I'm blaming you.'
'I don't.'
'I blame myself, if anything. About Yunst, I mean. I led that detail. I should have looked after him.'
Stryke turned his head to glance at her. 'How do you think I feel?'
Silence returned for a while.
'Who do you think those humans were?' Coilla asked, steering the conversation into less murky waters.
'Just marauders, I reckon. They didn't have the look of Unis or Manis, nor the discipline.'
'If they're typical, Maras-Dantia's sunk even deeper into anarchy.'
'All the more reason I should do this,' Stryke said, reaching into his belt pouch. He brought something out and passed it to her. 'If you still want to take it.'
She held an instrumentality. The blue one, with four spikes. It felt strange in her hand, as though it was too heavy and too light at the same time. And it had another, deeper quality Coilla found even harder to understand.
'Course I want it,' she replied, pulling out of her reverie. She slipped the star into her own pouch.
'If it starts to trouble you, give it back.'
'What about getting the band to carry it in turns, a couple of hours each? Not all of them, of course, just the true Wolverines.'
'And what happens when Haskeer wants his turn? No, it just makes problems. But if you don't want it — '
'I said I did, didn't I?' Her hand instinctively went to the pouch, and she wondered how it was for him, carrying four of the things. She changed the subject again. 'How long to Quatt, do you think?'
'Couple of days at this rate.'
'Assuming that's where Jup's going to be.'
'Well, we're not going to find out tonight, that's for sure.'
The pewter moon was up, big and fat, tendrils of cloud swathing its face. Colder winds blew.
'Where do you want to strike camp?'
'You're our strategist. What looks like the most defensible spot?'
Coilla scanned the drab terrain. It was flat and mostly featureless. 'Not much choice in these parts. Wait. What's that?' She pointed.
Well ahead of them, and not far off the trail they followed, there was a jumble of shapes.
'Can't tell,' he replied, straining to make them out. 'Curious?'
'Sure.'
'Then let's head that way.'
As they got nearer they saw that the shapes were ruins. A small settlement had once stood there, but now only shells of buildings remained, or just their foundations. Charred timbers indicated that fire played its part in the destruction. There were tumbledown fences and the hulk of an abandoned wagon. Sickly green lichen grew on the stonework. Weeds choked the paths.
Stryke ordered the band to dismount.
'Humans lived here,' Coilla said.
'Looks like it,' Stryke agreed.
'I wonder what destroyed the place?'
'Probably other humans. You know what they're like.'
'Yeah.'
'Let's get organised. I want sentries posted. See to it.'
She set off.
