'This is one contagion they won't fall prey to. It's not in their nature.'
'They have a rallying point; this Sylandya, their so-called Primary. She should never have been allowed to slip through our fingers.'
'No one's rallying to her. She could be dead for all we know. You're aggrieved at the loss of your brothers, Grentor. I understand that. But it's vital that our military and magical forces work in harmony.'
'So what do you propose doing?'
'More of a presence on the streets, a further drive to recruit informers, stricter punishments for those fraternising with the dissidents. And increased surveillance. The Order can be of great assistance in that respect, Grentor. If this nut requires a sledgehammer to crack, so be it. As for Sylandya, we'll step up efforts to find her or confirm her fate.'
'Your words are reassuring, General.'
'I'm glad you approve.'
'Approval depends on outcomes, not intentions. The Order will judge your measures on their results.'
'Naturally.' Hacher rose. 'Now if you'll excuse me, Brother Grentor, you'll appreciate that I have a great deal to discuss with my aide.'
Grentor glanced at Frynt. There was no warmth in either's gaze. 'Of course.' He gave an almost imperceptible nod, turned and left.
Frynt closed the door behind him and let out a weary sigh.
'I know,' Hacher sympathised, a faint smile playing on his lips. 'Our sorcerer confederates can be a trial at times.'
'Anyone would think they bore the brunt of these disturbances rather than us.'
'Quite. But I meant what I said about better cooperation between the services. We need everybody working together to be rid of incidents like tonight's.'
'Yes, sir. Talking of which, do you have any special instructions concerning this new batch of prisoners?'
'You know my philosophy, Frynt. We must leave the world a better place than we found it. Execute them. After extracting whatever intelligence they possess under torture, of course.'
'Sir. And you'll be issuing fresh orders pertinent to the tightening up of security?'
'I will.' He massaged the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. 'In the morning.'
'I think you might have impressed Grentor with these new measures,' the aide ventured. 'You don't normally concede so willingly to his demands, if I may say so, sir.'
'It wasn't entirely to placate Grentor and the Order.'
'Sir?'
'It's a bad time for all of this to flare up again.' His tone had grown sober. 'Keep it to yourself, but I've been informed to expect a visit from a higher authority.'
'Is that a problem, sir?'
'When it comes to this particular superior, that would be putting it lightly.' He suddenly appeared weary. 'Leave me now, Frynt. I need to rest.'
'Certainly, sir.'
The aide quietly removed himself.
On the far side of the room there was a pair of doors. The evening being warm, they were wide open. Hacher walked out onto the balcony.
He was renowned for his unruffled nature. But even he felt a pang of dread as he looked down at the darkened city.
The gloomy streets the Wolverines were taken through looped and twisted so much that they soon lost their bearings.
Eventually they were led along a narrow alley to a darkened house that appeared no different to hundreds of others they'd passed. The orc guiding them rapped a signal on the door with the hilt of his sword. Everyone was quickly ushered in. The door guard's eyes widened when he saw the humans and dwarfs, but he said nothing.
The house looked abandoned. There was no furniture and the bare floors were carpeted with dust. The large group was kept moving until its head reached a small back room. A pile of rotting wooden planks lay on the floor. Swept aside, a trapdoor was revealed. Stryke hesitated for a moment, then stepped onto the ladder. The band filed down after him.
They found themselves in an extensive cellar. A large number of orcs were present, and their expressions were uniformly wary.
The orc who brought the Wolverines there was the last one down. In the light thrown by brands and lanterns they got their first clear look at him. He was around four and twenty summers old, and fairly tall, almost rangy, by the standards of his race. His features were strong and his bearing upright. Self-evidently he was robust, and a female might well have seen him as fetching. From the way those present regarded him, it was also plain that he had authority.
'We should take your weapons,' he said.
'You'd have to prise them from our corpses,' Stryke told him.
'I hoped you'd say that.'
'Why?'
'It's further proof you're like us. Special.'
'Special?'
'You fight. That's why you're here.'
'What's so unusual about — '
'But there's a way you're not like us.' He pointed at Standeven, Pepperdyne and the dwarfs, who had been herded together in a corner. 'Why are you mixing with humans?' He all but spat the word. 'And whatever they are,' he added, indicating Jup and Spurral.
Stryke had no choice but to elaborate on the story he told when they first arrived, and hoped these orcs were as parochial as the shepherd. 'We're not from these parts.'
'What?'
'We're travellers.'
'Where have you travelled from?'
Stryke took his gamble. 'The world's a big place. You know there's a lot more to it than Taress.'
'In what part of the world do orcs consort with humans and…'
'They're called dwarfs,' Stryke supplied.
'Where do orcs, humans and these dwarfs live together?'
Stryke had hoped to keep things vague. He was forced to take another stab in the dark. 'The north. Far north.'
A murmur went up from the onlookers.
'The wilderness?' the leader said. He seemed impressed, possibly awed. Or perhaps disbelieving. It was hard to say.
Stryke nodded.
'We know little of those climes. Things must be very different there.'
Stryke barely believed his luck. It took an effort not to let out a sigh of relief. 'Very.'
'But you fight like a disciplined unit, the way we do. We saw it. If humans and these others are in league with orcs, who do you fight?'
Yet again, Stryke had to think on his feet. 'Humans.'
'Then how — '
'Some humans, like our comrades here, condemn what their kind have done to our race, and make common cause with us. And the dwarf folk have always sided with us.'
'I've never heard of such a thing. Here, humans treat us like cattle.'
'As you said, you know little of northern climes. Our ways are unlike Taress'.'
'If what you say is true,' the leader replied thoughtfully, 'I can see benefits in having human allies. Assuming they can be trusted.'
'Some can.' Stryke knew that could be the biggest lie of all.
