weighted end into the midriff of another. He used the staff with speed and seasoned grace. Spurral was no less skilful with her blades. Crowded by a pair of Unis, she expertly slashed the face of one and knifed his companion.
Eldo fought alongside them. Fending off the attentions of a brute with a club, the grunt took a hit that dented his helm and had him reeling. Spurral quickly deflected the clubman's follow-through and ripped his belly. A grateful if dazed Eldo nodded gratitude, and Spurral earned further respect from the grunts looking on.
After a seeming lifetime of grinding conflict there was a brief hiatus. But no respite.
Chuss, one of the new recruits, pointed. 'Look!'
They saw the riders.
Then two horsemen broke through the forward defences and galloped their way.
' Take cover! ' Jup bellowed, waving his group towards the wagons.
He made Chuss and fellow newbie Ignar shelter under one of them. The rest of the team clustered defensively. Jup and Spurral clambered to the top of the wagon nearest the approaching riders.
Seconds latter, the pair of horsemen arrived, brandishing cutlasses. Their mounts were steaming and foam- flecked.
One of the Unis made straight for Jup and Spurral. They battled to fend him off, but his mobility kept him frustratingly beyond reach. His companion, meanwhile, was leaning and slashing at the knot of orcs. Trying to avoid his horse's thrashing hooves, they jabbed and swiped at him.
The skirmish ground on, with neither side gaining the advantage. Then seasoned hand Gleadeg had an idea. He dug out a slingshot, quickly primed it and commenced swinging. The unleashed shot peppered the rider's face and chest. He cried out, lost his balance and crashed to the ground. His horse bolted. The orcs rushed in and pounded out his life.
Jup made to follow Gleadeg's example and use his own sling on the remaining horseman. But as he reached for it a keen hissing filled the air. A swarm of arrows thudded into the horseman, hurling him from his saddle.
When Jup and the others looked for their source, they saw a dozen or more dwarf archers on the longhouses' roofs. The Wolverines waved their thanks. They were ignored. The dwarfs were busy picking off more riders.
That wasn't the end of the Unis. They were still worming their way into the clearing, though there were fewer of them. Jup and his comrades took up their swords again.
Those near the perimeter had more than a couple of horsemen to contend with. Their burden was thinning the stream of incoming riders. Haskeer and Coilla's groups had faced a virtual cavalry charge. Dead and dying humans, dwarfs and horses were scattered across the forward combat zone. But the fighting went on.
Seizing a discarded lance, Haskeer impaled a charging Uni. The man was propelled from his horse, the spear lodged in his chest. Haskeer made do with his dependable blade to challenge the next interloper.
Coilla had spent her knives freely. Now there were just two left. She lobbed one at a rampaging horseman. It was aimed at his chest. He turned and the blade struck above his armpit, but the force was enough to spin him in his saddle. He lost control. The reins whipped free. A couple of orcs grabbed them and tugged hard, bringing down horse and rider. Spears and hatchets sealed his fate.
Pepperdyne battled on. He showed no loss of stamina, or lessening skill. His sword was a blur, slashing throats, puncturing lungs, severing limbs. He outfought or outwitted any who faced him.
For her part, Coilla was eyeing another rider. He was laying about a group of dwarfs with an axe. As she watched, he cracked open someone's skull, dropping him like a stone. Drawing her last knife, she took aim, reckoning on a clean kill this time.
She missed. The knife clipped the neck of the Uni's horse. Startled, the wounded animal bucked, throwing its rider. He fell heavily, but found his feet at once, buoyed with rage. Spotting Coilla, he battered his way towards her. She was bracing herself to meet him when a swinging blade came within a hair's-breadth of hacking her flesh. Unnoticed, another Uni had emerged from the scrum to challenge her.
Coilla spun to the new foe and their swords collided with a strident impact. They fell into a frenzied bout of swordplay. He was powerfully built, and what he lacked in finesse he made up for with might. They didn't so much fence as hammer at each other, and Coilla parried a series of jarring blows.
Then the human got lucky. She was slow in dodging a wild swipe. His blade skinned the knuckles of her sword hand, dashing the weapon from her grasp. It bounced beyond reach. Backing off, Coilla went for her dagger, the only weapon she had left. As she fumbled for it, the unhorsed Uni appeared.
The pair of glowering humans closed in on her. One had a broadsword, the other an axe. No way was her dagger a match for their reach. She could only twist and duck to avoid their aggression. But there was a limit to how long she could evade them. Rapidly, she lost ground. The humans came on for the kill.
'Coilla!'
Suddenly Pepperdyne was there. He tossed her a sword. Then he took on the second Uni, leaving the axeman to her.
She piled into him, intent on a reckoning. Bobbing to elude a swing from his axe, she went in fast and low, blade level. He swerved and half turned, hoping to sidestep her attack. Coilla's sword connected, but it glanced, skimming the side of his waist. Far from a fatal wound, it was still a painful enough distraction. Sufficient for Coilla to spin and strike again.
This time, the blow was true. She buried a third of her blade in the Uni's midriff. Jerking the sword free, she arced it and swept down hard to brain him. The man sprawled, lifeless.
Breathing hard, Coilla looked to Pepperdyne. He had bettered his own opponent, and was stooping to deliver the killing stroke. As he rose from slashing the Uni's throat, she caught his eye. She nodded her thanks, puzzled that he should side with her against one of his own kind.
'Look at that!'
Haskeer was pointing to a rider near the tree-line. The figure was unmistakably female. Her long blond hair flowed free, and she wore a metal breastplate that glinted in the feeble sunlight. She was mounted on a pure white horse that reared as, sword held high, she rallied her remaining followers.
'Mercy Hobrow,' Coilla spat.
'You were right,' Haskeer conceded.
'The bitch. Why don't you ever have a bow when you need one?'
As they watched, the woman wheeled her mount and headed into the trees.
The defenders at the vanguard, by the defensive trench, saw Hobrow too. Her supporters were retreating in her wake, the stragglers chased by angry dwarfs seeing them off with arrows and spears. All across the village clearing the last of the Unis were pulling back.
'More a last gasp than a second wave,' Stryke reckoned, looking on.
Breggin nodded.
'Not much more we can do here. Round up the unit.'
The private grunted and went off.
Stryke surveyed the carnage around him. The bodies of dozens of dwarfs were scattered about, and many more humans. They were outnumbered by the wounded, walking and prone, though he saw no orcs in the latter category. Or humans in either.
He made for the cluster of huts, his crew in tow.
The rest of the Wolverines were already gathering there.
'Anybody hurt?' Stryke called out.
'A few,' Dallog replied. 'Nothing too serious.'
'Coilla? You all right?'
'This?' She waved her bandaged hand dismissively. 'Just a sting.'
'She ain't the only one stinging,' Haskeer butted in.
'Meaning?' Stryke asked.
'Wheam.'
Stryke sighed. 'What about him?'
'Caught an arrow in his arse.' He jabbed a thumb.
A small group was arriving. Several grunts carried Wheam, face-down on a plank, a bolt protruding from his rear. Standeven followed sullenly.
Haskeer was gleeful. 'It gets better,' he went on. 'The arrow was one of our own.'
