'So,' she said when that was subsiding, 'how does Standeven come into all this?'
Amusement died in his face instantly, like a snuffed candle.
'Is he a… Trougathian too?' she asked.
'No, he's a bastard.'
'But one with some kind of charge on you.'
'Let's say I'm working a debt off with him.'
'Even while you're in this world? Doesn't that change anything?'
'Only here. Back home…'
'We might never see our homes again, Jode!' She checked herself. 'Shit. That's not good for morale, is it? Stryke'd hate hearing me say that.'
'It's no secret, Coilla. I reckon we all think that staying here's the most likely thing.'
'Well, it'd be no different to what's happened in the past.'
'What do you mean?'
'Something we were told before we left Maras-Dantia the first time. Do you know why the elder races came to be there?'
' Why? They… you… were just… always there. Weren't you?'
'No. I don't say I understand it, but out there' — she waved a limp hand in the general direction of away — 'out there, there are whole worlds of elves and centaurs, and pixies and gnomes, and all the rest. And orcs,' she added hastily. 'Crowds of the races… I don't know… fell through to Maras-Dantia. Scooped up like fish in a net by a powerful sorceress.'
'Humans too?'
'We were told you were our world's true race.'
'Ironic.'
'We didn't think so.' There was a flash of steel in her eyes.
'So all orcs would have originally come from Acurial. From here?'
She frowned. 'I don't know. The world we've been living in, Ceragon, has only orcs too. But a damned sight more spirited than the ones here.'
'So humans might not have started off on Maras-Dantia. Who's to say where orcs, humans or any other race could have originated? Or how far they've spread. Doesn't that intrigue you?'
'No, it makes my head hurt. I see things simpler. Like, maybe we should look at this as being just like moving from one camp to another. Your people are drifters: you must understand that.'
'It's a hell of a trek, Coilla. Sure you're not just making the best of it?'
' 'Course that's what I'm doing. It's the orc way. We never say die.'
'That could have been Trougath's motto.' He grew sombre. 'But lately I feel almost like — '
He broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps. They were loud and hurried, and could mean trouble. Pepperdyne and Coilla got up, hands on sword hilts.
Chillder burst into the room. She was breathing heavily.
'We've got a situation,' she announced, 'and we need all the swords we can muster.'
6
A crowd had gathered in one of Taress' largest squares. The mob was several hundred strong, and tempers were fraying. What began as a series of protests — against taxes, restricted access to holy places, the razing of certain venerated buildings, food rationing, curfews, heavy-handed policing and any number of other grievances — had distilled into a general outpouring of bitterness at the occupation.
The situation was near flashpoint. But it wasn't an incipient riot that drew the resistance. Their aim was to use it as cover.
A number of the rebels were present, along with most of the Wolverines, and the Vixens, the all-female unit Coilla had formed. Scattered around the square, they were dressed soberly, with weapons well concealed.
'Not that long ago these orcs wouldn't have been this restive,' Stryke whispered in Brelan's ear.
'They wouldn't even have come onto the streets.'
The pair were standing together at the edge of the milling crowd. There was a knot of human militia nearby, disquiet on their hard faces.
Stryke could see Haskeer not far off, and a little way on, Dallog with a team of grunts. Further afield, Chillder stood alongside several Vixens. But there was no sign yet of the comrades they were waiting for.
'Sure everybody knows what they have to do?' Brelan asked softly.
Stryke replied pointedly, 'My band does. I hope your facts are right.'
'There's no doubt. What we want is there.' He flicked a glance at a building on one side of the square. It stood apart from its neighbours on either side, and looked recently constructed. A squat, one-storey structure, it had white facing and barred windows. Weapons drawn and watchful, a group of nervous militiamen stood guard outside its heavy door.
Stryke was careful not to be seen staring at the place. 'So what happened?'
'Seven of our comrades were in the area checking out a target. They got unlucky. The troopers took them without blood being spilt.'
Stryke raised an eyebrow at that.
'We don't know how they came to be caught, except they were outnumbered.'
'How come they're in this guards' station?'
'They couldn't be taken to a proper prison for fear of the crowd. We reckon they'll be kept in there until this blows over. Or until an escort arrives.'
'Plenty of soldiers around as it is,' Stryke said, scanning the scene.
'They'll have other things to think about soon.' He chanced another quick peek at the guardhouse. 'If we don't get them out they'll be at the mercy of Iron Hand's torturers. They're good patriots, and loyal, but they'll talk. And that could be a real blow for us.'
Stryke nodded, then gave Brelan a nudge. Robed members of the Order of the Helix were weaving through the crowd. 'Looks like we'll have more than military to deal with.'
'Where's that human of yours?' Brelan wondered irritably.
'He's not mine. And he's — Hang on. There he is.'
Pepperdyne came into sight. He was wearing the stolen officer's uniform that had served them well on previous missions. Coilla and two members of the Vixens were with him, walking a couple of paces behind, as though being led.
'The females should be shackled,' Brelan said. 'It'd look more convincing.'
'Even Acurial's tame orcs might find that hard to swallow. Unless you want this crowd tearing him to pieces.'
'Granted. Though I never thought I wouldn't want that to happen to a human. It's time to set things in motion, Stryke.'
Stryke nodded, then raised a cupped hand to his mouth, as though stifling a cough. The other nearby Wolverines, watching for it, began passing the signal on. Brelan did the same with his resistance members. The unspoken order passed through the crowd.
Pepperdyne and his little entourage were making for the guardhouse. They met no open opposition on the way, but there were plenty of hostile stares and the odd shouted comment. That the females were following him with no sign of compulsion seemed to confuse the onlookers, and mollified many of them. In fact, their reflexive passivity, and the sense of obedience to authority that had been drummed into them, meant that most of the crowd cleared a path.
Pepperdyne kept his eyes firmly on the target and maintained an unhurried pace. The females in his wake ignored shouts directed at them.
The rebels stationed around the square knew to hold back until Pepperdyne's group had reached the guards' station. Shortly after that, they would act.
