mixed feelings about this in the band.
One discovery of the Wolverines, which dismayed them, was that some orcs allied themselves with the occupying humans. They were small in number and didn't dare do it openly, preferring to act as fifth columnists and informers, but the effect on morale was something else to be countered. Chillder and Brelan were especially shocked by this development, having regarded their fellow citizens as patriots, and they dealt with traitors harshly when they were caught. It was another variable in an already chaotic situation.
The resistance's growing numbers meant that the way the occupiers were engaged was changing. There were still plenty of guerrilla raids, but large-scale, more conventional face-offs were starting to replace them. For these, the Wolverines' expertise was invaluable.
So it was that a week after Sylandya's death, which many were already calling her martyrdom, the entire band stood together on one of Taress's main thoroughfares. At their backs was a force of several hundred insurgents, ragtag and ill-armed, but eager for blood. Ahead, a good lance's throw away, an equal number of human militia were gathered. They were better ordered and better equipped, but unused to being challenged by creatures with a newfound passion for warfare.
Events were at the sham stage, as the Wolverines knew it, with both sides exchanging catcalls, insults and threatening gestures. A standard practice before a battle.
'How'd you think they'll hold up?' Coilla said, jerking a thumb at the ranks behind them.
'What they lack in know-how they make up for in rage,' Stryke reckoned.
'Still gonna get most of 'em killed,' Haskeer muttered. 'Fucking amateurs.'
'Even a legendary band of heroes can't have a revolution without an army,' Stryke replied.
Jup guffawed.
'What's your problem, pisspot?' Haskeer snapped.
'I'm standing next to you.'
'Hang on while I die laughing.'
'Don't mind him, Jup,' Coilla said. 'He's still swollen-headed about a human he killed yesterday.'
'Why? What's so special about that?'
'It wasn't a soldier.'
'What was he?' Pepperdyne asked.
'A tax gatherer.'
Pepperdyne considered that for a moment. 'Well, fair enough.'
They all murmured agreement.
'When's this going to kick off?' Dallog wanted to know as he surveyed the enemy line.
'Yeah,' Wheam piped up. 'When we gonna fight?' He swished around the sword he was clutching.
'Careful with that thing!' Haskeer protested. 'You'll have somebody's eye out!'
'It'll start soon enough,' Stryke said. 'Remember the tyros are your charge, Dallog.' He glanced at the new band members, those recruited on Ceragan. They looked tense and ashen. 'Especially him,' he added, nodding at Wheam.
Wheam looked discomfited.
'They'll be fine,' Dallog assured him, though his expression was grim.
'Come on, come on,' Spurral muttered, impatiently drumming the cobblestones with her staff.
'Your female's keen for the off, shortarse,' Haskeer observed. It was said not without a trace of admiration.
'Yes, and she'll take it out on you if this thing doesn't hot up soon,' Jup came back.
'Here we go,' Coilla said. 'They're moving.'
The human troops began to advance. Subject to rigid military discipline, they progressed in an orderly fashion.
' Advance! ' Stryke yelled, raising his blade.
The crowd of orcs was more shambolic as they went forward, but their passion was high. They started to beat their shields and bellow war cries.
As the humans picked up speed and added their own battle cries to the din, they found the orcs had hidden allies. From rooftops and high windows, citizens proceeded to rain objects down on their heads. A volley of tiles, bricks, pots and the occasional arrow fell like lethal hail.
When the opposing forces were near enough to see the expressions of fear, bloodlust, fury and foreboding on each other's faces, both sides broke into a charge.
The two living tides swept together and melded in a brutal frenzy.
The battle, the latest in a series that had become almost daily, took place in the hub of the city. Centrally enough, in fact, that although it couldn't quite be seen from the fortress of Taress, it could certainly be heard.
For Jennesta and Hacher, ensconced in her quarters at one of the redoubt's loftiest points, it was a near- permanent background noise. Not that they were consciously listening. The events in Jennesta's chambers took precedence over death's raucous clamour.
'Well, I'm waiting,' she repeated, arms folded resolutely.
'I'm at a loss to know what you expect of me, ma'am,' the general replied.
'Yes, and that's the problem, isn't it? Perhaps you could start by telling me what you intend doing about the anarchy out there.' She waved an arm at the window.
'The present situation, with respect, ma'am, has been brought about by the assassination of the female the orcs called their principal. I could almost believe it was an act designed to stir things up even further, and — '
'Are you questioning my methods?'
'I think I am, my lady. Even before the principal's death we made certain moves that only worsened the situation in this province. Actions, I have to say, that you drove.'
' Now you find the guts! It's a pity you didn't have the resolve you're now showing towards me when you were supposed to be defending Peczan's interests.'
'I've always worked as diligently as I could in service to the empire,' he responded irately.
'No. You might think that, but you haven't. Your actions have undermined everything that should have been done here. And would have been done by a competent commander.'
Hacher was allowing himself to grow heated. 'Before your arrival, my lady, we had a situation here that was manageable. Your… initiatives have turned simple law enforcement into a much graver problem.'
'Let me tell you the real problem, Hacher.' She counted items off on her bejewelled fingers. 'You failed to anticipate the potential for rebellion these animals harboured, or to recognise their capacity for savagery, despite me telling you so. You led your forces in a shambolic way. You weakened the effectiveness of the imperial presence here because of political infighting with the Helix. Above all, you stubbornly refused to accept that the only thing the natives of this godsforsaken land understand is strength. In short, General, you are the problem.'
'Look where an excessive show of strength has got us, ma'am. Look at the streets. See what we've bought with our display of strength and brutality.'
'Too little brutality, too late! You know, you really do baffle me. Your reputation was of a governor who didn't allow mercy to cloud his judgement. They call you Iron Hand, for the gods' sake! Yet you shy from taking that hand from its silken glove.'
'Don't mistake my objections for a taste for leniency, my lady. Mine is not a moral stance. I'd execute the whole population of Acurial if it furthered our purposes. And I would have ordered the death of the principal myself if I thought it would do some good. It's the strategic line we've taken that I argue with. Your measures, not least the elimination of Sylandya, have soured the air and stretched our forces to the breaking point.'
'I'm never going to get through to you, am I?'
'I prefer to say that we have an honest disagreement over policy, ma'am.'
'I don't tolerate disagreement. I tell subordinates where they've gone wrong and they conform to my will. That's how it works.' She threw back her head in a gesture of exasperation. 'Oh, why am I wasting my breath on you? And not just you. The whole system in this place is riddled with far too much freethinking, and you're not the only culprit. But that's going to change. Radically.'
'Ma'am?'
There was a sound at her chamber door. It wasn't so much a knock as a series of thumps and a coarse scratching. A couple of seconds later the door opened, and a pair of Jennesta's undead bodyguards shuffled in
