'Take a nap.'
'Eh?'
Pepperdyne gave him a hefty crack to the jaw. The man went down like a felled tree.
Stryke and Haskeer shed their bonds and leapt from the wagon. They pulled out concealed blades, and Haskeer grabbed the sword of the unconscious guard.
The other guard stopped gaping and dashed for a wall-mounted alarm bell. Stryke lobbed his knife and hit him squarely between the shoulder-blades. The man fell headlong.
They hauled up the first guard and brought him round with a couple of slaps.
A blade was put to his throat.
'The ones outside,' Stryke said. 'Get them in here.'
'Go to hell.'
'You first. Now do it.'
Pepperdyne looked to the watchtower. Still the lookout hadn't noticed what was happening. He felt sure their luck wouldn't hold much longer. ' Stryke, get a move on!'
Stryke raised the blade and held the tip a hair' s-breadth from the guard's eye. 'Let's try this another way.'
'All right, all right! I'll do it!'
They shoved him towards the gates.
'Any tricks and you're dead,' Stryke promised.
He and Haskeer moved aside, leaving Pepperdyne with a dagger to the guard's back.
'What do I say?' the man asked.
'Just get their attention. I'll do the talking.'
Trembling, the guard rapped on the gate a couple of times. A few seconds later it was opened a crack.
'What is it?' They recognised the sergeant's voice.
'We need a hand in here.'
'Why?'
Pepperdyne put a little more pressure on the blade and took over. 'Sergeant, the axle's broken on the wagon. We need help shifting it.'
'Sir!'
The sergeant and one of the other guards sidled in.
Stryke and Haskeer leapt on them. A flurry of blows and kicks put them down.
They used the rope to tie them, and the guard Pepperdyne held. Securely trussed, they were dragged into a small gatehouse, along with the dead sentry.
'This is taking too long,' Haskeer complained.
As if on cue an arrow zinged towards the nearest watchtower. It struck the lookout and he dropped from sight.
'It's started,' Stryke said.
Haskeer scowled. 'We're not ready. There's still one of 'em outside.'
Another arrow soared overhead, winging its way to the second tower.
'I'll take care of it,' Pepperdyne told them.
He slipped out of the gates. Seeing him, the remaining guard snapped to attention.
'We need you too,' Pepperdyne said.
The guard hesitated. 'Sir, I — '
'What?'
'Standing order, sir. This post is never to be left unmanned.'
'But… Oh, to hell with it.' He booted the guard's solar-plexus. The man doubled and Pepperdyne dragged him through the gates.
While they were dealing with him, flaming arrows cut across the sky towards the thatched buildings.
'Get those gates opened wide!' Stryke ordered.
When they had, they saw Coilla and the other Wolverines tearing down the hill.
'Here they come,' Haskeer said.
'And here comes somebody else,' Stryke added.
A group of soldiers were running their way across the compound. Others were moving in another direction, towards rising black smoke.
'Onto the wagon!' Stryke yelled.
They jumped aboard, and this time Stryke took the reins. He urged the horses and drove straight at the approaching soldiers. Pepperdyne and Haskeer stood in the back, hanging on with one hand, outstretched swords in the other.
The wagon picked up speed. Stryke kept on course, and the advancing troops went from distant figures to clearly defined individuals. Several were shouting, but their words were impossible to hear.
Then the wagon was on them. Soldiers scattered, and there were yells and curses. Most leapt clear. Several avoided the wagon but fell prey to Haskeer and Pepperdyne's blades. One managed to loose an arrow. It flew hopelessly wide.
Stryke got his bearings and swerved. The wagon turned so sharply that on one side its wheels briefly left the ground. The jolt when they came down again all but dislodged everyone on board.
They glimpsed the thatched buildings in flames. Men were dashing in all directions. Buckets of water were being chained.
The wagon turned again and headed for the prisoners' block.
Coilla's team got to the main gates. There were just six Wolverines with her. Dallog and his archers were bringing up the rear and had yet to arrive.
There was no chance for Coilla's group to properly collect themselves. Eight or nine of the troops Stryke ploughed through had kept on to the gates. They reached them at almost the same time as the Wolverines.
Coilla took on the first of the troopers. He was an officer, and spitting mad. She liked angry opponents; it clouded their judgement.
He attacked in a frenzy, slashing wildly with his sword and bellowing incoherently. It took no great skill on her part to dodge his blows. Getting past his blade's lacerating passes was a bit harder. And she was all too aware that there was no time for delay.
She grew furious in her response. Flaying the man's blade, she laid siege to his defences, such as they were. Having bludgeoned her way past his guard, she bored steel into his chest.
Coilla looked about, ready to engage another foe. There was no need. The group was putting down the last of the humans without her help.
Seafe joined her. 'Not much of a scrap, was it?' He looked disappointed.
'I think they're not used to orcs standing up to them. But it won't take long to soak in.'
' Corporal! ' one of the privates shouted.
It heralded the arrival of Dallog and his four archers.
He surveyed the corpses. 'You've made a good start then.'
'There's going to be more than just these. Now let's get organised. You and you.' She nodded at two grunts. 'Stay here and guard our exit. The rest, follow me.'
They hastened into the compound.
The wagon Stryke was driving arrived at the prison block. An imposing building, it was tall and windowless, save for a series of niches, like arrow slits, way up near the roof. They saw only one entrance; a pair of solid double doors, set smack in the middle of the facade.
As Stryke slowed down, one of the doors opened a fraction. Just enough to show a pale human face gazing out from the ill-lit interior. Ponderously, the door began to close again.
Pepperdyne vaulted from the still moving wagon and ran towards it.
' Hold! ' he shouted.
The muscular doorkeeper froze. Pepperdyne saw that he held a length of thick chain suspended from a point somewhere overhead. It obviously worked a mechanism of pulleys and weights that operated the heavy door.
'Let me in!' Pepperdyne demanded.
