ORCS: Army of Shadows (31 page)

“This is my higher authority,” Stryke told her, holding up his sword. “And it says
no
.”

“Be sensible. What you’ve just seen is only a taste of the power we command. If we turned it on you full force you wouldn’t
stand a chance.”

“We’ll play those odds.”

Pelli sighed. “This is so pointless. Why are you so intent on wasting your lives for the sake of —” She stopped, as though
hearing a voice no one else heard. Then she turned to look out to sea.

A small armada of ships were making for shore.

All of the strangers turned to look, contemptuously offering their backs to the Wolverines. The band, too, came out from their
shelter and stared.

“This place is as busy as a whorehouse on payday,” Haskeer muttered.

It was obvious that the arrival was as much of a surprise to the strangers as it was to the orcs.

Feeling as though he’d been virtually dismissed, Stryke backed off and rejoined his crew.

“Who the hell’s knocking at the door now?” Coilla said.

“I don’t know. More Gatherers?”

“No,” Pepperdyne told them. “Definitely not Gatherers. Look!”

One of the fleet of five ships was engaging with the strangers’ vessel. And it was doing it magically. Vividly hued beams
shot from craft to craft.

Seemingly having forgotten the Wolverines, Pelli and her ill-assorted group began jogging towards the shoreline. Before they
reached the waves they were sending out shafts of their own.

“What the
fuck
is going on?” Haskeer demanded.

“Looks like our enemy has an enemy,” Stryke replied.

“Which would be fine,” Jup pointed out, “if our enemy’s enemy wasn’t our enemy too.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Take a look at that ship coming into shore, the leading one. It’s prow-on. See? Now do you notice somebody standing there,
right at the front, bold as shit?”

“Yeah,” Haskeer said, blinking and with a hand shading his brow.

“Recognise who it is?”

It was Coilla who answered. “Jennesta,” she whispered.

“I thought the stars were supposed to be incredibly rare,” Coilla said, “but it looks as though everybody’s got them.”

“Maybe we’ve just run into everybody who
has
got them,” Pepperdyne suggested.

Down on the beach the magical battle raged. The new arrivals had sent in boats of their own. They were running a shuttle,
dropping troops off in shallow water and going back for more. The soldiers were Jennesta’s human followers, along with a much
smaller number of her zombie personal guard. But they seemed no more able to overcome the strangers’ magic than the orcs were.
That was for Jennesta. Ashore now, and sweeping majestically up the beach, she was essentially waging the war single-handedly
and, considering her opponents’ might, making a good job of it.

Stryke figured that if they couldn’t fight the strangers’ magic, they could fight Jennesta’s army. As there was no way to
escape, he argued, they could at least kill something.

At first it went well. They charged into the fray and gave a good account of themselves, downing troops and hacking zombies
to pieces. But it didn’t take long for both Jennesta and the strangers to notice them. A bombardment of enchantments forced
the band to retreat. Though Stryke wasn’t alone in thinking that, vicious as their magic was, neither side was actually trying
too hard to kill them.

The band pulled back to the edge of the beach and the shelter of rocks.

“The stars!” Haskeer pleaded. “Use ‘em now!”

“Lay off!” Stryke snapped. “Coilla! Are we all here?”

“No. We’re missing Dallog, Wheam and a couple of the other tyros.”

“Bloody typical,” Haskeer moaned.

“I’ll go and look for them,” Stryke decided.

“I’ll come with you,” Coilla told him. “No, no argument. You’ll need somebody to watch your back.”

“All right.”

“Me too,” Pepperdyne said.

“No,” said Stryke.

“Going to stop me?”

“If I have to. But better that you stay here and help hold our position.”

“But —”

“Do it, Jode,” Coilla said. “I’ll… We’ll be fine.”

“If you’re going,” Haskeer grated, “you better get a fucking move on.”

Stryke tossed his head. “Come on.”

They ran towards the scrum.

The bodies barring their way were all human or zombie. The wizardry was taking place farther down the beach, at the water’s
edge. But soldiers and the undead were still a formidable obstacle.

Stryke and Coilla hacked, slashed, stabbed and battered their way through them. They had a few errant energy bolts to dodge
on the way. Some of Jennesta’s horde weren’t so lucky.

“I see ‘em!” Coilla yelled. She pointed.

Dallog and a couple of tyros were slugging it out with twice their number of soldiers.

Coilla and Stryke fought their way to them.

Their blades quickly turned the tide. A bloody exchange saw the attackers overcome.

“Where’s Wheam, Dallog?” Stryke asked.

“Down there!”

Further along the beach, Wheam was trying to hold off a pair of zombies. He had his new musical instrument strapped to his
back, and looked more worried about protecting it than about himself.

“I’ll get him,” Stryke said.

“We’ll come!” Coilla and Dallog chorused.

“
No
. I’ll not have the band scattered again. Get yourselves back to the others.
Now
.”

They left reluctantly. He plunged back into the fray.

Coilla, Dallog and the tyros had as tough a path to travel on the way back as she and Stryke had had on the way out. The troops
seemed to be everywhere, and none left them unchallenged. By the time their goal was in sight, their blades ran with gore.

“Can you make it alone from here, Dallog?” Coilla said.

“’Course.”

“Get on then.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going after Stryke.”

“But he said —”

“Just get these two back, all right?” She ran off.

Stryke came at one of the zombies from the back and ran it through. True to experience it hardly registered the blow. So he
took to chopping at it, as though he were felling a dead tree. When enough major damage had been inflicted the armless creature
hopped on its one leg for an instant, then collapsed. The second zombie Stryke simply decapitated, sending its head bouncing
in the blood-soaked sand.

“Am I glad to see you, Captain,” Wheam panted.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Stay close.”

Before they could move, Coilla arrived.

“I thought I told you —”

“You need me,” she said. “Look around. Somebody’s got to cover your back.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

It was getting harder to steer a way that didn’t have troops in it. So they were compelled to carve a path. But still the
increasing opposition made them take a different route back. It took them past a large outcropping of rock.

It was only very shortly after what happened next that Stryke started to think they’d been deliberately herded that way.

Jennesta stepped out from behind the rock.

The trio stopped in their tracks.

“Run, Wheam!” Coilla pleaded. “Get out of here!”

The youth fled.

Jennesta laughed, disturbingly. “It seems not
all
orcs are courageous.”

Stryke and Coilla rushed her as one, their blades levelled.

She made a swift hand gesture. The pair instantly froze in their tracks, rigid as statues.

Strangely, the fighting seemed to have frozen too. Or at least the sound and sight of it had. It was either more of Jennesta’s
magic, or her followers had fallen back, reinforcing the suspicion that it had been a setup.

“Now that I’ve got you nicely calmed,” Jennesta said, “we can have a civilised conversation.”

Stryke and Coilla were helpless. They struggled to move or make a sound but couldn’t.

“When I say conversation, of course, that doesn’t imply that you’ll be taking part in it. Actually, Stryke, I’ve got someone
here who knows you. Or did.” She snapped her fingers loudly.

Two zombies lumbered into sight. They walked on either side of somebody.

It was Thirzarr.

Stryke’s mate showed no sign of recognising him. She looked healthy enough, apart from a few bruises, but seemed to be in
a light trance or coma.

“Surprised?” Jennesta mocked. “I thought you might be. She isn’t fully undead, like my servants here. She’s… let us say she’s
in the stage before that, and could go either way. A zombie or back to how she was. You can decide which.”

For all his torment, Stryke couldn’t break through her enchantment.

“My proposition is straightforward,” she informed him. “I’ll free your mate if you and your band surrender yourselves to me.
Just the orcs; I’ve no need for the other types you have hanging on. Do that, Stryke, and you’ll not only free Thirzarr, you’ll
also be part of a wonderful enterprise. The Wolverines will form the nucleus of my zombie orc army. Quite a combination, yes?
Unquestioning obedience coupled with your peerless fighting skills and robust fitness. A great improvement on the present
sort.” She indicated her zombie slaves with a casual flick of the hand. “Think of it, Stryke. You’ll be able to fight and
conquer to your black heart’s content. Not just in one world, but many.
All
of them. With the instrumentalities turned out on a mass scale… Oh, yes. That’s how I come to be here. I copied yours. And
now I know I have the means perfected, I can start to build an army of totally compliant orcs to conquer… well, everywhere
really. Anyway, that’s the proposition. I’m going to sever the bonds holding you now so you can give your answer. One move
and you’ll go back to helplessness.” She gestured with her hands again.

Stryke thawed. Despite his rage and anguish he fought back the urge to leap for her throat. He knew it would be futile, and
he needed to bide his time. If he had any. He kept his bile for words. “You stinking bitch! What have you done to Thirzarr?
And what about our hatchlings? Where are they?”

“You don’t expect me to tell you, do you? Your brats are not the issue. Your mate or your band. What’s your answer?”

“I can’t agree, not on behalf of the others. They fought hard for their freedom. I can’t be the one to make them forfeit it.”

“Then your mate becomes a mindless slave. Perhaps you’d
like
a mindless slave for a mate. I could see it might have some advantages. Is that it, Stryke?”

“If you’d only face me one to one, in a fair —”

She burst out laughing. “Oh,
please
. As if I’m going to do that. But perhaps there’s another way of resolving this.”

“How?”

“If you won’t capitulate, then settle it in a way more to your liking. In combat. If my champion wins, you succumb. Well,
you’ll be dead actually, but you would have conceded defeat. You win, you have your mate back, good as new.”

Coilla struggled against her invisible bonds futilely.

“Who’s your champion?” Stryke said.

“She’s standing right next to me.”

“
Thirzarr?
I won’t do it. She wouldn’t either.”

“Really?” Jennesta waved a hand at Thirzarr.

She seemed to come alive, yet not quite.

“Fight him,” Jennesta ordered, “to the death.” She handed Thirzarr a sword.

She snatched it and immediately made for Stryke. He stood stupefied for a second, not believing his eyes. Then he had to move
fast to evade her singing blade.

Stryke twisted and turned to avoid the rain of blows she sent his way. He only reluctantly raised his own sword when he had
no other way of fending her off. Every move he made was defensive. Her every stroke was calculated to kill.

It was getting desperate. Stryke was being driven to up the ante in the face of her inexhaustible attack. He dreaded his instincts
taking over and, Thirzarr or not, his striking back in kind.

Suddenly Wheam reappeared. He popped from behind the outcropping. Of all the things he might have done next, Stryke would
never have guessed the one he chose.

He threw a rock at Jennesta. It struck her on the shoulder and she cried out, more in injured pride than in hurt.

The unexpectedness of the attack broke her concentration and whatever mental power she exercised to maintain her enchantments.

Coilla unfroze. Thirzarr stopped, lowered her arms and dropped the sword. She seemed to have re-entered the state she had
arrived in.

As Jennesta raged, and presumably struggled to re-establish her hold, Coilla grabbed Stryke and began pulling him away. He
struggled at first, wanting to go to Thirzarr, but even in his frenzy he saw that was hopeless. He let Coilla and Wheam guide
him.

They ran. Something like a thunderbolt followed them, but boomed harmlessly overhead.

The fighting had died down considerably, and although they faced opposition, which fell to Coilla to deal with, they got back
to the others unscathed.

What had happened was quickly relayed to the band. Most took the news in dumb silence.

Coilla said, “Take us to Ceragan, Stryke. We’ll raise an army and come back here to kick Jennesta’s arse so hard —”

“We don’t know if the stars would get us there. But there’s worse.”

“How could it be worse?” She had an icy churning in the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t you see? Jennesta must have been there, to get Thirzarr. And Thirzarr wouldn’t have come willingly. No orc would. They
would have fought. It wouldn’t be beyond Jennesta to wipe out every orc there if she could manage it. Coilla, we don’t even
know if Ceragan still exists.”

THE ORCS’ ADVENTURE CONCLUDES IN:

Orcs: Inferno

Stan Nicholls

Coming in 2010