Aren't we?'
He glared at her and dragged a sleeve across his mouth. 'It's all right. Could be more of it.'
'Is this usual dwarf fare?' Dallog intervened diplomatically.
'More or less,' Jup replied. 'Though we'd prefer a greater quantity.' He aimed that at Haskeer, who stayed oblivious.
'Those of us from Ceragan have never seen dwarfs before,' Dallog said, 'so don't take my ignorance for a lack of courtesy.'
'No offence taken. I remember how I felt when I first saw an orc.'
'You didn't think we were as revolting as humans, did you?' Wheam piped up.
Jup smiled. 'Nowhere near. Though the storytellers would have us believe you ate the flesh of your own kind, among other things.'
' I'm a balladeer,' Wheam declared proudly.
'I noticed the lute.'
'That's putting it a bit grandly,' Stryke said. ' Hoping to be would give a better account.'
'I can prove it,' Wheam protested. 'I could sing something.'
'Oh gods,' Haskeer groaned. He upended his empty tankard. 'More drink.'
'That we do have,' Jup told him, beckoning a female dwarf carrying a laden tray.
She was fair of form, as far as the orcs could judge. Her skin was smooth as ceramic, and her long auburn hair was woven in plaits. She was hale, and though powerfully built she moved with graceful ease, for a dwarf.
Putting down the tray, she leaned over and kissed Jup. The clinch was lingering.
'Now that's what I call service,' Coilla remarked.
The pair disentangled themselves.
'Sorry,' Jup said. 'This is Spurral.'
'Somebody… special?' Stryke asked.
'She's my cohort.' He saw they didn't grasp what he was saying. 'My other half. Perpetual companion, mate, partner. Spouse.'
'You were right,' Stryke said, 'things really have changed.'
Coilla smiled. 'Good on you both.'
Haskeer lowered his tankard. 'Hell, I never thought you'd let yourself be tied down, Jup. Hard luck.'
'You must be Coilla.' Spurral smiled at her. 'And you're Stryke.'
'Good guess.'
'Oh, I've heard a lot about you all.' The smile faded. 'And you just have to be Haskeer.'
Haskeer bobbed his tankard at her and downed more ale.
'Spurral and me have known each other since we were kids,' Jup explained. 'When I got back here it just seemed right that we made it kind of official.'
'So two proud dwarf families were joined,' Spurral added. 'Me being a Gorbulew and Jup a Pinchpot.'
Haskeer choked on his beer. 'You're right about that!' he spluttered.
'Pinchpot,' Jup repeated through grated teeth. ' Pinch pot.'
Haskeer rocked with mirth. 'So you,' he pointed at a stony-faced Spurral, '… you stopped being a… Gorbulew and… became a pis — '
' Haskeer,' Jup growled ominously.
'Talk about learning something new every day,' Haskeer ploughed on, hugely amused and insensible to their sour expressions. 'You never told us you were a… Pinchpot.'
'I wonder why,' Spurral remarked dryly.
'That's enough, Haskeer,' Stryke cautioned, a note of menace in his voice.
'Come on. I know getting hitched can kill your sense of humour, but — '
'We're guests here. Be mindful of it.'
Haskeer sobered. 'Seems to me there was no point in our coming.'
'How's that again?' Jup said.
'Can't see you joining us, what with you having a mate and all. It was a wasted journey.'
Jup and Spurral exchanged glances.
'Not necessarily,' Jup said.
Coilla swept her arm to indicate the throng of dwarfs in the clearing. 'I thought you stayed here because of them.'
'Given the choice of spending your life with another race or your own, wouldn't you?'
'You could have been sent to the dwarfs' home world. Serapheim offered.'
'I wouldn't have known anybody there either.'
'So why the change of heart?'
'I never thought I'd say it, but I want to get away from here. The time's come.'
'You can see this land's dying,' Spurral said, 'and our folk along with it. Did you get a close look at our tribe? Almost all are old, lame or infirm.'
Jup shrugged. 'We don't want to leave, but — '
'We?' Stryke said.
'There's no way I'm going without Spurral.'
'That complicates things, Jup.'
'Why should it? Unless you've got a problem with dwarfs in the band.'
'You know it's not that. But we've no idea what we're going into, except it'll be dangerous.'
'I can look after myself,' Spurral protested. 'Or is it taking females along that you don't like?'
'In case you hadn't noticed,' Coilla told her, 'I'm a female myself. What's important is being able to fight.'
More than one pair of eyes flashed to Wheam.
'Spurral's a good fighter,' Jup replied. 'She's had to be.'
'You're not going to shift on this, are you?' Stryke said.
'Nope. It's both or neither.'
'I'm running this band just like I did in the old days, as a tight unit. Everybody in it takes orders.'
'We've no gripes with that.'
'Don't say you're going along with this, Stryke,' Haskeer complained.
'I make decisions about the band, not you.'
'Then don't make a bad one. We're carrying enough dead wood as it is, and — '
'Didn't Stryke just say you all obey orders?' Spurral interrupted. 'Doesn't sound like it to me.'
'Stay out of this.'
'This is about me!'
'Call her off, Jup,' Haskeer snarled.
'She can fight her own battles.'
'Yeah,' Spurral confirmed, squaring up to Haskeer. 'Want to put your fists where your mouth is?'
'I don't hit females.'
Coilla laughed. 'Since when?'
' That's enough,' Stryke decided. 'Haskeer, shut your mouth. Jup, Spurral; back off. Everybody, sit down.' They settled. 'That's better. I'll think about Spurral, Jup. All right?'
'That's all we're asking for.'
'So let it rest.'
'Yes. This should be a celebration. More drinks.' He reached for a jug and topped up their cups. 'And we have a little pellucid if anybody's — '
'Oh, no. Not after the last time. Mission first, pleasure later.'
Haskeer mumbled, 'Shit.'
'What about that song then?' Jup suggested. 'Wheam?'
Coilla rolled her eyes. 'Gods, must we?'
But Wheam had his lute in his hands. 'This might be a little rough. I'm still polishing it.' He began strumming. 'The Wolverines, that dauntless band, Fought their way across the land They beat a path through rain and mud And
