left their rivals in pools of blood They met rank fiends in battles dire And sent them to eternal fire No demons grim or human waves Could overcome the Wolverines' blades They came to where the dwarfs did dwell And saw that they had not fared well But still their welcome was quite fulsome And hospitality was truly awesome.'
'Shall I kill him or will you?' Spurral asked Jup.
'Here's the chorus,' Wheam declared, upping the tempo of his discordant plucking. 'We are the Wolverines! Marching to foil evil schemes! Fleet of foot and strong of arm! We — '
'Well, it's getting late,' Stryke announced loudly.
Wheam came to a grating halt. 'But I haven' t — '
'Been a long day,' Coilla added, stretching.
'Sure has,' Jup agreed, 'and a big day tomorrow.'
Wheam's face dropped. 'You never let me fin — '
'Turn in or I'll break that fucking string box over your head,' Haskeer promised.
'Time we all hit the sack then,' Dallog said, taking Wheam's arm.
'We set off in the morning,' Stryke told them. 'Early.'
They dispersed to their various billets, with most of the privates making for a couple of long houses. Jup and Spurral led Stryke, Haskeer and Coilla to a pair of much smaller huts.
'Stryke,' Jup said, 'you and Haskeer are going to have to share this one.' He pushed open the door.
Striding in, Haskeer cracked his head on the top of the door frame. He let out a stream of curses.
Spurral covered her mouth to stifle her glee.
'Don't forget everything's dwarf scale,' Jup added.
'Thanks for reminding me,' Haskeer retorted. He looked around the poky room and noticed the cots. 'That goes for the beds too, does it? These are only fit for hatchlings.'
'We'll sleep on the floor,' Stryke told him. 'And if you snore I'll kill you.'
'We'll leave you to it,' Jup said. 'You'll let us know about Spurral, Stryke?'
'In the morning.'
Coilla was taken to the adjoining hut.
Spurral ushered her in. 'You get this one all to yourself. Though the bed's no bigger.'
'I don't care. I could sleep on a rack of knives.'
They left her stripping blankets and tossing them on the floor.
Coilla was so tired she didn't even bother taking off her boots. As soon as she stretched out, she was asleep.
There was only the black velvet of oblivion. Mindless, timeless. All embracing.
The first frail light of dawn seeped in through the cracks around the door and window shutters.
She stirred.
Instantly, she knew she wasn't alone. A figure loomed over her. She tried to move.
The cold edge of a steel blade pressed against her flesh.
And an unmistakably human voice whispered, 'Don't make me cut your throat.'
11
'If you're going to do it, get it over with,' Coilla said, the blade tight against her throat.
'We don't want to hurt you.'
'We?'
'I'm not alone.'
Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of someone else skulking in the shadows.
'We're just trying to help you,' the human added.
'You've a funny way of showing it.' Coilla's fingers snaked towards her own knife.
'I didn't want you bawling the place down and bringing the others in here.' He grabbed her hand, then wrenched her knife from its sheath and tossed it aside. 'Or getting any bright ideas.'
'Who are you?'
'Long story.'
'Why would your kind help an orc?'
'Another long story.'
'Not much of a talker, are you?'
'There's no time. This place's about to be attacked. But you might be able to do something about it if you can get your forces mustered.'
'Why should I believe that?'
'We've seen what's massing out there. Take my word.'
'A human's word?'
'How could warning you be a trap? Look, if I take this knife away are you going to behave?'
Coilla nodded.
He removed the blade and backed off.
She lay still. 'At least let me see you.'
The human fumbled for a moment before sparks were struck and a candle lit.
As far as Coilla could tell with humans, he seemed in his prime. He certainly looked fit. His mass of hair was blond, but he had none of the facial growth many of his race favoured.
He moved the candle. The circle of flickering light showed the other man's features. He was older, and had the build of someone used to sloth. There was grey in his thinning black hair and tightly trimmed beard. His pallid skin had a sheen of sweat, despite the early morning chill.
'You have names?' she said.
'I'm Jode Pepperdyne,' the younger man replied. 'This is my… This is Micalor Standeven. You?'
She got up. 'Coilla.'
The older man spoke. 'We're wasting time. A small army of religious fanatics are going to be here any minute.' He was noticeably more nervous than his companion.
'Unis?' Coilla asked.
'Does it matter?' Pepperdyne said. 'All you need know is that they're hell-bent on mayhem.'
'We're well guarded.'
'Really? We got in easily enough.'
'I don't understand why you'd side with us against your own.'
'They're nothing to do with us,' Standeven insisted.
'Let's just say we have mutual interests,' Pepperdyne offered. 'And we'll be mutually dead if you don't start mounting a defence now. Trust me.'
'That's asking a lot.'
'What have you got to lose? If we're lying, all you've done is put everybody on alert. If we're telling the truth, you've a chance to hold off the attack.'
'But decide now,' Standeven added. 'Because if your answer's no we can try getting out of here ourselves.'
'Will you do it, Coilla?' Pepperdyne said.
'I'll do it. But if this is a trick,' she vowed, 'you'll both pay.'
He smiled his gratitude. 'Do it quietly. We don't want to warn the raiders.'
'Oh really? I never would have thought of that.' She gave him a withering look, then headed for the door. 'You two stick by me. Many here would bring you down soon as look at you.'
She led them to the adjoining hut and barged straight in.
Haskeer still slept, snoring loudly. Stryke stood on the far side of the room, stropping a blade. He spun around.
Coilla held up her hands. 'Easy.'
He glared at the humans. 'What the hell's this?'
