Kalgeck shook his head. “But most of them were imprisoned belowdecks, remember.”
“Yes, of course. I could almost feel sorry for them.”
“It’s hard for us to think that way about them. They caused us so much misery.”
“I know, and I can’t blame you for it. Still, it’s possible some of them might have made it here. We should take care.”
“What do we do now?”
“Do you know where we are? Or anything about this island?”
“No.”
“All right. So let’s find out if it’s inhabited, and if it is, whether the natives are friendly or not. But first we ought to look through the wreckage for anything useful, like provisions.”
“I already found this.” He held out a water flask.
“Oh, great. Can I? I’m parched.”
As she drank, Kalgeck said, “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot else, though.” He was staring at the wreckage she had washed in with.
That proved almost right. In fact they were lucky enough to find another flask, containing coarse brandy this time, though it was only half full. A nip each raised their spirits a little. They also scavenged some chunks of timber that would serve as clubs. Nothing else was of much use. But a couple of the dwarfs had managed to hang on to weapons from the ship: a Gatherer knife and one of the wooden hatchets the captives had made clandestinely.
They set off inland. Just inside the tree line they came across bushes with a crop of yellow, spiky fruit about the size of apples. They were unfamiliar to Spurral but the other dwarfs knew them and were delighted. Once the tough skin had been peeled off, the sweet, juicy white flesh proved delicious. They ate their fill and then some.
“Right,” Spurral said, licking her fingers, “let’s see what else this place has to offer.”
Fortified, they continued their journey.
The jungle was thick and difficult to get through. After they’d trekked for some time, with Spurral in the lead, hacking at foliage with the knife and stumbling on vines, they were beginning to wonder if it was worth going on. Then she stopped, raising a hand for the others to be quiet. There was an extensive clearing just ahead. There seemed to be nobody about, so they gingerly stepped into it.
Trees had been felled, or more accurately uprooted, and dragged to form several heaps at the glade’s edge. The undergrowth was trampled flat. In the centre of the clearing was a sizeable pool.
Spurral cupped her hand and tried the water. She spat it out. “Salt. Must be fed by the sea.” Looking round, she added, “Nothing here is natural except the pool. Somebody cleared this area.”
Kalgeck held a finger to his lips and pointed. There was a rustling in the undergrowth. They raised their meagre weapons. More rustlings came, but from several directions. The dwarfs drew themselves into a protective circle, eyes peeled.
Some kind of creature crashed through the vegetation, then several more. They were big and black.
“Horses?” Spurral exclaimed. As soon as she said it she saw her error.
The creatures entering the clearing looked superficially like horses but with important differences. Their skin was wrong, resembling a seal’s, and their luxuriant manes oozed water. They were much more muscular and robust-looking than commonplace horses. Above all, they had eyes that betrayed far greater acumen than any steed’s.
Kalgeck confirmed it. “They’re not ordinary horses. They’re —”
“Kelpies,” one of the creatures grated, trotting forward. “And we would like to welcome you to our island if we were sure you meant no harm.”
“We don’t,” Spurral replied, recovering her poise. “Do we look like raiders?”
“No, you look like bedraggled dwarfs. And as there is no ship off our coast I assume the sea cast you here.”
“Yes. We survived a wreck.”
“Then you are most fortunate, given some of the perils in these waters.”
“We met one of them.”
“Doubly fortunate then.” He surveyed the dishevelled group. “You must forgive our suspicion. We have few visitors, and those who do come are usually unbidden and mean us no good.”
“You wouldn’t be talking about humans, would you?”
“They can be among the worst of races, as you dwarfs must surely know.”
“You mean the Gatherers.”
“That’s a name reviled by my kind. Even more so now, as we believe a visitation from them is due. And that always means pain and grief.”
“I can set your mind at rest about that. They went down with the ship we were on.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
“And their vile captain?”
“Salloss Vant? Dead.”
“You’re sure?”
“I saw it.”
“Spurral’s being modest,” Kalgeck interjected. “She’s the one who killed him.”
Insofar as they could read the kelpie’s expression, he looked impressed. “We have been in hiding, hoping against hope that the slavers might pass us by this time. Now you bring us this glad news. Come, your injuries will be tended and you can rest. Then there will be celebrations and feasting in your honour.”
“Now you’re talking,” Spurral told him. “We’ve had nothing but gruel for days. But tell me, what do we call you?”
“Before I can answer that question,” the kelpie said, “I have one for you. How good are dwarves at talking underwater?”
* * *
By the time Pelli Madayar’s group put out the flaming sails, the Wolverines had made their getaway. She ordered a cleanup and went to her cabin.
The nature of the magic she used to communicate with the Gateway Corps’ homeworld was such that it utilised any suitable medium. Seawater was the simplest, most plentiful and by far the most effective channel. She stared into a large bowl of it. The application of certain compounds to make it more receptive, followed by a gestured conjuration, sparked the enchantment.
The water simmered and ran a gamut of colours before settling down. At which point Pelli found herself looking at an image of Karrell Revers, human head of the Corps.
“I hope you have more cheering news for me this time,” he said without preamble.
“We’ve had our second engagement with the orcs.”
“And it wasn’t a success. I can tell from your expression, Pelli.”
“They are a prime fighting unit.”
“So are you. Or you’re supposed to be.” His tone had been much more prickly of late. The strain was telling on him. “Could it be that your failure to overcome the warband is due to your exercising too much restraint?”
“It’s true I began by trying negotiation, but —”
“This situation requires a remedy, quickly and decisively. You should have known better than to try parleying with orcs. Force is what they understand.”
“I thought we were supposed to stand for moral principles.”
“There’ll be no principles, moral or otherwise, if instrumentalities fall into the hands of orcs, or worse.” Revers softened a little. “I’m sorry, Pelli, but the gravity of what’s going on makes it vital that we draw this to a close quickly. Forgive me for saying this, but the impression I have is that things are getting beyond your control there.”
“They’re not,” she assured him, though she didn’t entirely believe that herself. “I intend to clear this matter up.”
“Then you’ll follow my earlier advice.”
“Sir?”
“Use the special weapons.”
“That could involve the loss of innocent life.”
“Not if you proceed with caution when you use them. You’ve had no luck taming the Wolverines. This could be the only way you’ll triumph over them.”
“I’ll give your advice serious consideration.”
“Do it, Pelli.”
Without further word his likeness faded and disappeared.
She sighed and got up.
Out on the deck,
her second-in-command, Weevan-Jirst, was gazing at his open hand. He held a palm-sized gem of fabulous rarity. Its iridescent surface flashed a series of images.
“Traced them yet?” she asked.
“I think so,” he rasped. “They have altered their course, but their destination is predictable.”
“Then we’ll continue the pursuit as soon as we can.”
He looked up from the gem. “You look troubled. Can I ask the outcome of your communication with our leader?”
“We take the gloves off.”
24
Stryke didn’t choose the biggest goblin ship. He thought it might stretch the ability of his band to crew it. Pepperdyne would effectively be commanding the vessel, and he agreed.
At first light they loaded whatever provisions they could forage from the ruins of the goblin encampment, got the freed kelpies aboard and set off. The journey, their new allies assured them, would not be lengthy. For Jup, wracked with anxiety and unusually distant, it couldn’t be fast enough. He kept himself to himself, and the others mostly let him be.
The ship ploughed on uneventfully until well into the day. During all that time Pepperdyne was up at the wheel, with Coilla beside him.
“You really look in your element,” she said.
“It’s the first thing I’ve got real pleasure out of since we set off on this crazy escapade.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Apart from the few chances we’ve had to talk, that is.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I’ve enjoyed that too.” She broke eye contact and said, “This ship’s certainly much faster than those dwarf boats.”
“That’s the power of sail.” He nodded at the billowing sheets. “And we’ve been lucky with the wind so far.”
“This must be like old times for you.”
“Sort of. Though on Trougath we lived more like the dwarfs do here. Coastal sailing mostly. But we had ships too, of course, for trade.”
“So you’ve captained one this big before?”
“Well… not quite. But don’t tell the others.”
They laughed conspiratorially.
“The principles are more or less the same though,” he continued. “Sailing’s sailing.”
“We couldn’t have done this without you, you know.”
“I think you could. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about the Wolverines it’s that you’re resourceful.”
“We’ve had to be. But whether it runs to commanding a ship…”
“It’s easy. Here, try.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Come on, take the wheel.”
He stepped aside and she grabbed hold.
“Wait a minute,” he said, and moved behind her. Arms round her, he took her hands and guided them to a slightly different position. “That’s the best way. And don’t grip so tightly. Relax. A light touch is best.”
“This is fun.”
“If you did it long enough you’d get a feel for the vessel. I mean, a real feel for it. Those who do this all the time can sense the mood of the ship.”
“Ships have moods?”
“Oh, yes. They’re like people. Sorry. They’re like people or orcs or…”
She smiled. “You don’t have to keep correcting yourself, Jode. I know what you mean.”
“Maybe it’s because I find it easy to forget our differences.”
“We are different.”
“In how we appear, sure. But there are deeper things: ways in which all races share certain similarities. That’s another thing I’ve learned during our time together, and I’m grateful for it.”
“But you’re from Maras-Da —Oops. Now I’m doing it, aren’t I? You’re not from there, are you? Not in the way I mean.”
“No. Same world, different part. The area you come from was always shrouded in mystery for the rest of us. It was a forbidden place. Only when I got there did I realise how many different forms life takes. Whoa! You’re letting her drift a bit.” He corrected the wheel. “When I said a light touch I didn’t mean that light. You have to keep in control or she’ll start to rove.”
“That’s something I’ve never understood.”
“What is?”
“Why ships are her or she. Is it because males build them?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe.”
“So it’s to do with males seeing females as something they own and can control?”
“I like to think it’s because a ship has grace and charm, like a female.”
She grinned. “Quick thinking.”
“It was rather, wasn’t it?” He had to smile too. “I can never imagine anybody controlling you, Coilla.”
“Gods help the male who tried. What about you?”
“How do you mean?”
“Was there a her or she for you in Trougath?”
His smile went away, and it was a moment before he answered. “Once.”
“And?”
“Like my nation and my previous life, she was… swept away.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge anything up for you.”
“That’s all right.”
“I won’t ask anything about —”
“No. What’s done is done. I’m not one for dwelling in the past.”
“I understand. You know, your story, your people’s story, isn’t that different to ours in a way. We lost our birthright too.”
“I know. But not the details. You’ve never told me how your band came to leave Maras-Dantia.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’d like to hear it sometime.”
“Sure. Though you might find it a bit boring.”
“I doubt that.”
They heard footfalls on the ladder leading to the wheel deck. Stryke appeared. Pepperdyne quickly stepped away from her.
“What’s going on here?” Stryke said, seeing Coilla at the wheel.
“Nothing!” the two of them replied simultaneously.
“That is,” Coilla elaborated, “Jode’s giving me a lesson in seamanship.”
“Maybe that should be seaorcship,” Pepperdyne suggested. He and Coilla sniggered.
“Yeah, right,” Stryke replied, failing to see the joke. “You’ve been at that wheel quite a while now, Pepperdyne. Got anybody to relieve you?”
Pepperdyne took back control of the wheel. “Hystykk and Gleadeg had a turn earlier. They seem to have the knack. But I’m fine for now, Stryke.”
“Sure?”
“It’s a long time since I did anything like this. I’d like to savour it a bit longer.”
“Suit yourself. Just shout when you want a break. I’m going back to the others.” He started to leave.
“I’ll come with you,” Coilla told him. She flashed Pepperdyne a quick grin and followed.
Down on the main deck, out of earshot, Stryke said, “You seem to be growing very friendly with him.”
“We get on.”
“That might not be for the best.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I have to remind you about the way humans are? Getting close to any of them —”
“Jode’s different.”
“Is he?”
“He’s helped us. He’s helping us now. Not to mention I owe him my life a couple of times over. I reckon that entitles him to a little of my time.”
They came to a row of barrels standing by the rail. Stryke stopped and sat. Coilla lingered for a moment, considering the unspoken invitation, then sat down herself.
“I’m only saying this for your good,” Stryke assured her. “We know that as a race humans can’t be trusted.”
“Hold it right there. We came on this mission because of a human. Serapheim, remember? How’s he different?”
“He saved us in Maras-Dantia.”
“And Jode saved some of us in Acurial, like I said.”
“Serapheim gave us the means to help the orcs in Acurial, and to get our revenge on Jennesta.”
“And how’s that worked out? All
right, we aided the Acurial rebels, but there’s been precious little in the way of a reckoning as far as Jennesta’s concerned. And we wouldn’t be in the fix we’re in now if it hadn’t been for Serapheim.”
“You could always out-argue me,” Stryke admitted. “But I stand by what I said about humans. You’ve only got to look at the other one, Standeven, to see how low they can get.”
“We’re not talking about him. Jode’s out of a different mould.”
“We aren’t going to see eye to eye on this, are we?”
“Nope.”
He reached into his jerkin and brought out a flask. “Drink?”
She smiled and nodded.
Several healthy swigs of brandy mellowed them both.
“Talking of Serapheim,” Coilla said, relaxing, “do you ever question why he sent us on this assignment?”
“We know why. To help fellow orcs and for revenge on Jennesta.”
“Think about it. Why should he care about orcs? And Jennesta’s his own daughter, don’t forget.”
“Being his flesh and blood might be more reason for wanting to punish her. He feels disgraced by her evil, and wants to atone for it by taking away the life he sired.”
“And us orcs?”
“He said he was ashamed of what his race was doing to ours in Acurial.”
“Ah, so the nasty humans can act nobly.”
Stryke said nothing. He had another drink.
She went on, “There’s something about all this, Stryke… I don’t know; it doesn’t ring true somehow. I mean, his servant turning up in Ceragan with a knife in his back; what was that about? Who killed him? Why? Come to that, how did Serapheim himself survive the collapse of the ice palace in Ilex?”
“That’s an awful lot of questions.”
“Here’s another one. How come Jennesta’s still alive after going through the… What did they call it? The vortex. Not only didn’t die but ends up helping to run a human empire. How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, Coilla. And I do dwell on these things. But sometimes I think there are some mysteries we’ll never solve.”
“Perhaps.”
He stood. “I need to check on Jup.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Trying to use his farsight. Remember that big life force he detected? I thought it’d be a good idea to have some warning if we’re going to run into it.”
ORCS: Army of Shadows Page 22
