Wheam's makeshift stretcher was brusquely dumped on the ground. He groaned loudly.
'Get him sorted,' Stryke ordered.
Dallog knelt and began rummaging in his medical bag.
To one side, Coilla got Pepperdyne alone.
'Thanks,' she said.
He nodded.
'You fight well.'
The human smiled tightly.
'Where'd you pick up the skill?' she persisted.
He gave a cursory shrug. 'Here and there.'
'You're talking me to death again.'
This time his fleeting smile had a speck of warmth in it. 'It's a long story.'
'I want to hear it.'
' Pepperdyne! ' Standeven was elbowing their way.
Pepperdyne's expression went back to pokerfaced.
'Your place is with me,' the older man asserted.
'I know.'
To Coilla, Pepperdyne's manner seemed almost subservient. 'What is it with you two?' she asked.
' Coilla! ' Stryke beckoned her over.
She gave the pair of humans a last, hard look and left them to it.
Stryke was with Jup and Spurral, and they were obviously troubled.
'What's up?' Coilla said.
'Our people have paid a high price for this,' Spurral replied, indicating the detritus of battle.
'But they did well. Specially as you've so few veterans.'
'We've even less now,' Jup came back gloomily.
'There are casualties in a fight,' Stryke told him. 'You know that.'
'The Wolverines haven't come out of this nearly so badly.'
'We're born to combat, and we've got the skills. If we'd had losses we'd accept 'em.'
'Most dwarfs don't have the orcs' attitude to these things.'
'So I see,' Coilla said, nodding.
They followed her gaze to a group of villagers standing in the clearing. They were looking the Wolverines' way and whispering amongst themselves. Others were drifting over to swell their ranks.
'This could get nasty,' Stryke judged. 'Jup, what do you think?'
'They're angry. It'd be as well to tread lightly 'til this blows over.'
'Coilla?'
'I'm thinking of that old saying. You know, the one that goes, Trust in the gods, but tie up your horse.'
Stryke eyed the growing crowd. 'I'll go along with that. We'll do nothing to goad them. But we stay alert.' He turned to Dallog. 'Get Wheam on his feet.'
'I'm not sure if he's — '
'He'll live. Just do it.'
Dallog shrugged and beckoned a couple of grunts. 'Give me a hand here,' he instructed. 'Hold him. Tight.'
He bent to his patient. Wheam began whimpering. Dallog swiftly plucked out the arrow, drawing a yell from the newbie. Then the corporal produced a flask of raw alcohol and sprinkled it liberally over the wound. Wheam howled. Dressing hastily applied, the grunts tersely hauled him to his feet, raising more yelps. Wheam was ashen. His grimace made him look like he'd sucked a bushel of lemons.
Giving off a disgruntled mutter, the throng of dwarfs had started to move towards the orcs. A number of them nursed wounds or hobbled. Many had their weapons drawn.
'To me!' Stryke ordered.
His band fell in beside him.
Out in front of the mob was a familiar face; the dwarf who harangued them in the glade when they first arrived in Quatt.
He marched up to the Wolverines, chest puffed, and holding aloft a short spear.
'Have you any idea what mayhem you've caused here?' he shouted.
'That was down to the Unis,' Stryke replied evenly.
'And look how many of our people paid for it!'
'The orcs fought at our side, Krake,' Jup reminded him. 'We wouldn't have won otherwise.'
'We wouldn't have had to fight at all if it weren't for them!'
There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.
'That's not fair,' Jup returned. 'We should count ourselves lucky they stood with us.'
'Trust you to take their part. All you've done is bring us trouble.'
'Seems to me,' Stryke said, 'it was time you stood up to those humans.'
'You think we haven't?' Krake was red faced. 'What we don't do is go round provoking 'em!'
Again the mob backed him.
'You can't blame the orcs for that,' Jup reckoned. 'You know how crazy those Unis are. If it hadn't been the Wolverines it would have been something else.'
'Backing outsiders again,' the ringleader spat. 'You're too fond of these… freaks.'
'Who you calling a freak?' Haskeer demanded indignantly.
Krake glared at him. 'If the cap fits.'
'I wouldn't push it with our sergeant,' Coilla advised.
'Let's just be calm,' Jup appealed.
'Traitor!' Krake seethed.
'Don't you call my Jup a traitor,' Spurral waded in.
'Wotcha mean freak?' Haskeer repeated.
'It's what I'm looking at,' Krake told him. He waved his spear in Haskeer's face.
The crowd was cheering him on.
'I wouldn't do that,' Coilla warned.
'I don't take advice from grotesques,' Krake informed her, 'least of all a female.' He laughed derisively. Most of the crowd joined in.
Haskeer snatched his spear, upended it deftly and plunged it into the dwarf's foot.
There was a crimson geyser. Krake shrieked. He hobbled a couple of steps before falling into the arms of his fellows. The crowd let out a collective gasp.
'Oh, great,' Jup groaned.
The enraged mob surged forward, weapons raised, and the orcs primed themselves to meet them.
'I don't want you fighting our people, Stryke!' Spurral pleaded.
'No, we don't need this,' Jup added, one eye on his advancing countrymen.
'Pull back, Wolverines!' Stryke barked. ' All of you!'
The band withdrew. Soon they were clustering in front of a large wooden hut.
'In here!' Stryke bellowed, kicking open the door.
Everyone piled through. Furniture was dragged over to barricade the entrance, and the lone window was blocked. Outside, the roar of the mob grew louder.
Coilla glowered at Haskeer. 'So much for not goading them!'
'The little shit asked for it. He was lucky I didn' t — What are they doing here?' He thrust a finger at Pepperdyne and Standeven.
'They warned us, remember?'
'So what?'
'So there's not much we can do about it now, is there?'
'I could,' Haskeer replied menacingly.
Stryke stepped between them. 'You going to disobey another order?'
