Warriors of the Tempest

by Stan Nicholls

  Still preoccupied with what he thought of as the revelation in his dream, Stryke trudged tiredly across a square to meet Rellston. He saw a family of humans standing, holding hands around a funeral pyre. The tiniest infant was bawling at the pain of her burnt and blistered face and the eldest lad, who couldn't have been more than ten seasons old, had his mouth set in a grim line though the effect was somewhat spoiled by the tracks of tears cutting through the dirt on his face. An old woman beside the widow couldn't stop coughing as the smoke eddied around the square.

  Stryke saw Rellston, as weary as himself, jump aside as a cart rumbled around a corner. It was heaped high with more bodies for the pyre. He stopped for a word with a man who had a bloodied rag tied around his shoulder then came straight towards the Wolverines' leader. 'Join me for a drink, Stryke?' he asked, in an unusual show of openness. He didn't wait for an answer.

  Stryke fell in beside him. 'Where are we going?'

  'The seaward wall. I want to see how the repairs are going.' The human strode on, pushing his way through the crowded streets. He kept glancing at the orc then looking away as if he wasn't sure what to say.

  Stryke wasn't about to help him.

  Finally the man said awkwardly, 'You made the difference, you know. You and the rest of your band. We're just not used to warfare on this scale. If it hadn't been for you we wouldn't have made it this far. Thank you.'

  Stryke nodded acknowledgement. 'But you're still wondering if the Unis would have attacked at all if we hadn't been here.'

  'By the look of them they'd have come against us anyway sooner or later. That Hobrow's a fanatic.'

  The sun was a finger's breadth above the horizon now, a malevolent orange orb. Rellston squinted at it through the drifts of smoke. 'How soon before they attack, d'you reckon?'

  'Soon as they finish praying, I suppose. What plans have you got?'

  They had reached the seaward wall now. The Mani commander ducked under a blanket hung across a blackened doorway. The door itself was a heap of ashes that squelched underfoot. He shrugged. 'Keep doing what we're doing. And pray ourselves.'

  'That's all well and good,' Stryke said thoughtfully, 'but we have to do more than that. In the long run besiegers always have the advantage over the besieged.'

  Rellston stepped over three or four of his command, who were sleeping on the floor, and helped himself to a bottle from a cupboard. Not bothering to look for glasses, he took a swig of the fiery liquor and passed the bottle to the orc.

  'We have our own wells here. So long as we can keep from being overrun we'll make it.'

  'Except you can't possibly have enough food to last forever.' The orc slumped on a chair and nodded at the wall of the stockade, just visible through a window. 'They do.'

  The Mani commander couldn't hide his desperation. 'The gods know we can't keep taking losses like yesterday's! And they have enough men to come at us every night. What can we do?'

  'I don't know yet. But something has to give. In the meantime, mind if I make a suggestion?'

  'Help yourself. I don't have to follow your advice.'

  'Have you got bucket brigades sorted for the next attack?'

  'Of course.'

  'Then get a team collecting cooking oil, axle grease, anything that'll burn. Put it in a pot with a rag for a wick and we can get our own back.'

  Rellston grinned, his teeth white in the sooty stubble of his face. 'Fight fire with fire, you mean?'

  'Exactly. After what they did to your township last night I don't think your people will have any moral objection. When they come again we can lob firepots of our own at the bastards.'

  'Trouble is,' Rellston said, not grinning anymore, 'their fighters still outnumber ours. They don't have women and children eating their supplies either.' The commander hauled himself to his feet. 'Better get in position. They'll be here again soon enough.'

  Stryke climbed the wall facing Hobrow's main encampment. He could see the Unis on their knees. Hobrow himself could be made out standing on a knoll, his arms upraised. But the light, salty breeze carried the man's words away and Stryke couldn't make out what he said. He knew it meant nothing good for orcs or Manis though.

  From his vantage point, the Wolverine leader spotted his officers in a fierce conversation. Haskeer gestured and Coilla made damping motions, but when they spotted Stryke they surged towards him. Even now some Manis gave them a wide berth.

  He descended and met them. They all started speaking at once.

  'Shut up!' he snapped. 'The last thing I need is you lot arguing.' He glanced at a tumbledown shack. 'In there. We need to talk.'

  With Alfray keeping watch through a crack in the door, the rest of the Wolverine command squatted in the cobwebbed shadows.

  'First off,' Stryke said quietly, 'it's pretty obvious this town won't make it. Half of them can't fight and Hobrow's got his followers stoked up. Any ideas?'

  The Wolverines looked at each other. 'We fight,' said Coilla. 'What else?'

  'Exactly. "What else?" ' Stryke's words hung in the grimy air.

  Jup asked slowly, 'What do you mean?'

  'I mean we could just leave them to it. With the humans fighting each other, they'll be too busy to come after us.'

  'You mean we just find a way out of here while they're occupied?' Haskeer said. 'Sounds good to me.'

  Coilla hissed, 'You can't mean that! We'd have had no chance against Hobrow's men if it wasn't for them. We can't desert them now.'

  'Think about it,' Stryke urged. 'I know the Manis are our allies now, sort of. But what do you think will happen if the last star falls into Hobrow's hands?'

  Jup jumped to his feet. 'Who cares about the star?' he said angrily. 'We've got four of them, haven't we? Isn't that enough for you? Or do we have to throw our lives away too?'

  Stryke glared at the dwarf. 'Sit down and shut your mouth. Isn't it obvious to you that the star's got power? It's something to do with the magic of the land. If Hobrow gets his hands on it, that power will be his.'

  'Either that,' Alfray said from his post by the door, 'or he'll destroy it. But us getting killed is more likely out in the open against the whole Uni army. And I never was much for betraying people I've fought alongside.'

  'Look,' Haskeer said as the dwarf sullenly resumed his place in the circle, 'they're only humans, ain't they? All right, they've been welcoming to us, given us food and shelter, but they need us more than we need them. If it was the other way round, they'd take from us and think nothing of it. You know they would. That's human nature.'

  Coilla had been thinking about the implications behind Stryke's words. 'You mean you've decided we're going for the star and done with it?'

  Stryke nodded. 'I say for the meantime we stay here and fight. Then, when we get a chance, we take the star and get out under cover of darkness.'

  One by one they agreed, some with more reluctance than others. Alfray was the least happy, but even he could see that Ruffetts View didn't stand much chance of surviving.

  Swallowing down his own guilt, Stryke said, 'Coilla? You've been in the temple. Do you think you could steal the star for us?'

  'If I have to. It shouldn't be too difficult. After all, they haven't got time to guard the temple when there's a fucking siege going on, have they?'

  'Look,' Alfray said, abandoning his post and coming to stare down at Stryke with a spark of anger in his eyes, 'if we're sneaking out of here, what are you planning on doing with the enlistees? You're not going to leave them behind just like that, are you? Because I'd find that hard to believe of the Stryke I know.'

  'No, Alfray, I'm not. I'm an orc and we look after our own. We'll let them know, don't worry.'

  'I'm not worried,' the old corporal said. 'I'm just not abandoning anybody, that's all.'

  'Neither am I, Alfray. Neither am I. So what I—' Alarms bells began to sound. From the wall of the stockade men were shouting.

  The orcs sprang to their feet, heading for the door. At that moment a fire canister bu
rst on the thatched roof above them. Burning pieces of straw and wood showered down, filling the hut with smoke.

  Stryke jumped forward, pulling Coilla out of the way of a falling timber. 'Let's get out of here!'

  The rain of fire continued, kept in check only by the archers Rellston had posted on the walls, and by the bucket brigades within. Sheltering under overhanging eaves where they could, the Wolverines pounded off to their respective posts. Dodging and ducking, they were just about to split up when a lookout called, 'They've stopped! They're pulling back!'

  'Must be so they don't hit their own troops,' Stryke said. Then he shivered as something coursed through him.

  Coilla hadn't noticed. 'See that?' she said.

  In the middle of the tension, with battle about to be joined, the High Priestess was chanting around the geyser of magic. Still in her blue robes, though they were somewhat stained now, she was slowly circling the fountain of rainbow light, hand in hand with a chain of her followers. Around her, tattered and worn, a group of women of all ages were watching. Red, green and yellow gleamed on their faces as they took up the eerie chant.

  'What are they doing?' Jup said.

  'Trying to turn the magic on the Unis,' Stryke answered without thinking. Then wondered how he knew.

  'Well, we need all the help we can get,' the dwarf muttered.

  Stryke tried to pull out of the strange feelings that rippled around him. 'I'm all for calling on the gods,' he said with an attempt at his former cynicism, 'but there are times when a good sword is your best guide.'

  Coilla put a hand on his arm. 'Why don't we tell them we have the other stars?'

  He looked puzzled. 'Why would we do that?'

  She shrugged, seeming almost embarrassed now, if that were possible. 'If they're as powerful as they're supposed to be, maybe the stars could help.'

  'Do you think anybody around here would know what to do with them?'

  Jup grimaced. 'We don't know what to do with them either.'

  Stryke fought to control himself. The waves of vibration inside him made it hard to think. The others looked at him expectantly while Krista and her handmaidens continued to sing their invocation to the Trinity. He found himself wishing that he'd had the time to tell Coilla what the Priestess had said about the possibility of his being a sport.

  Consciously anchoring himself in reality by straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath and said, 'I still think the stars are better with us.'

  'But why?' Coilla's words burst out louder than she'd meant. Some of the singers turned to glare at her. 'They've brought us nothing but trouble this far,' she ended more quietly.

  'I just don't want to risk them falling into the Unis' hands,' Stryke said.

  Coilla looked at him strangely. 'Are you sure you just don't want to share them? You're getting mighty possessive about the damn things if you ask me.'

  'Yeah!' Haskeer said. 'You won't even let me touch them anymore.'

  Jup smirked. 'Not since you went crazy.'

  'Shut up about that, will you? It was just the humans and their fucking plague, all right?'

  Before anyone else could speak, Krista's chant reached such a high pitch that it was on the limits of hearing. The sound seemed to knife through Stryke. The Priestess and her acolytes were swaying backwards and forwards now, their faces alight with rapture.

  'How can they stand that shrieking?' Jup whispered.

  Alfray spoke, dispelling Stryke's mood. The old orc indicated Krista's unearthly hymn. 'Think it'll work?'

  'I bloody hope so,' Jup said. 'A battle's a battle, and all that, but I'm sick to death of everybody being after us.'

  For a moment an unusual sense of optimism held the band.

  Then alarm bells sounded again and somebody shouted, 'There's another army out there!'

  'Oh, fuck!'

  In the sudden silence that filled the holy place, Jup's words rang out somewhat louder than he intended.

  18

  Dashing to the walls, the orcs swarmed up to the walkway. As far as the eye could see there were soldiers marching, horses trampling, banners rippling. But with the smoke from the fires still burning in Ruffetts, and perhaps five hundred bonfires on the enemy side, nobody could see clearly for more than a few feet. But they didn't have to be able to see clearly to realise that the army of the besiegers had more than doubled in size.

  Squinting, cloths tied around their faces to keep out the choking fumes, the Wolverines watched the endless tide of men and horses rolling black across the crests of the hills. By the time the newcomers' vanguard had reached the Uni camp there was no sign of the rearguard. Just an endless swarm that covered the landscape from one side of the horizon to the other.

  Stryke closed his eyes in despair.

  Haskeer was the first to find his voice. 'Now the shit hits the windmill.'

  But suddenly the Uni camp was filled with shrieks. Coughing, Coilla said, 'Doesn't sound much like a joyous reunion to me.'

  Jup leapt up and down in uncharacteristic glee. 'They're Manis! Look, there are orcs up there, hundreds of 'em! The Manis have come to lift the siege!'

  'You're right!' Coilla said. 'They're attacking the Unis from the rear.'

  'There's dwarves!' Jup pointed excitedly at the first group of his own people he had seen in a while. 'A whole mass of 'em!'

  Haskeer sneered, 'So what? They won't make a difference unless they're being paid well.'

  Jup grabbed him by the throat. 'Says who, goat breath?'

  Before Haskeer could reply Stryke pulled them apart. 'We don't have time for this. Can anybody see whose army it is?'

  Batting windblown sparks out of the smoky air, the Wolverines peered through the shimmering waves of heat.

  'Don't know,' Coilla decided. 'Don't care. There's more of them than there is of the Unis and that's good enough for me.'

  Stryke rested his hands on the palisade. 'This is gods-sent. We've got to get out there and help.'

  Inside Ruffetts View a frenzy of activity burst out, with Rellston snapping commands left, right and centre. Runners took his orders and within a short time forces were mustering. Footsoldiers forced their way through the crowds to line the streets near the northern gate. Meanwhile, riders were saddling up and pushing their way from the stables so they could form up around the small pool in the square.

  The Ruffetts commander had his work cut out, sending citizens to the walls while the townswomen were left to battle the fires still raging in the poorer quarters, where houses were built mostly of wood.

  Stryke pushed his way through the throng, wishing he hadn't told the enlistees to also assemble by the landmark pool. The noise was appalling. He dodged as a horse shied at the din, and shouldered his way through to the edge of the muddy water.

  He wasn't surprised to see that even in the crowded square the humans had left a space around Corporal Krenad. Two hundred orc warriors were enough to give most beings a sense of respect.

  'Ready for the charge, Corporal?'

  The deserter's face split in a grin. 'Much better than skulking around inside these poxy walls, sir. If you want a good sally, I'm your orc.'

  They had to shout to make themselves heard. Now a strange quiet fell on the muster.

  Climbing into the saddle of a horse Krenad had brought him, Stryke found out why. High Priestess Krista Galby was walking through the square. Despite it being so packed, the inhabitants of Ruffetts still found space to make way for her.

  Serene, Krista had a brief word with Commander Rellston, then headed for the Wolverines. Stryke heeled his horse forward to meet her.

  She rested a hand on his leg and looked up into his eyes. 'Once someone has felt the power of the land, it will grow in them,' she whispered. 'Sooner or later, the land won't be denied.'

  Suddenly she wasn't serious at all. With a gleam of exaltation in her eye, she straightened. Though she hardly raised her voice, her next words rang through the square. 'Let each of you know that you fight for the land. So
the land will strengthen you, bring the power of the earth into your hearts. Open yourselves to the power of the earth. Know that the wind is the earth's breath, and that we fight for the land's well-being. For the land will not be denied. Too long has it shed tears for its despoilers. Now, as the power of the earth soars above your heads—' from the geyser a plume of coruscating pseudo-flame leaped higher, by chance or by design '—your spirits will be renewed, in this life or the next, and the blessings of the Manifold Path will be above you and before you. They will be behind you and on either hand, to guard and guide and shield you as the land's own.' Her hands rose in a graceful gesture of benediction. Then she vanished into the crowd.

  Rellston's command burst into the silence. 'Open the gates! At the trot!'

  Flanked by Coilla, Jup, Alfray and Haskeer, Stryke held his restless horse in place by sheer muscular power.

  Once more the square was filled with noise. Under its cover, Coilla said, 'If anything happens to you all the stars will be lost at once. Split them up between us, Stryke.'

  'No chance.' His automatic refusal brought her chin up stubbornly. He added persuasively, 'They belong together, Coilla. I don't know why, they just do.'

  Already the first columns of trotting men were at the gates.

  'Either that or you're just too possessive to let them out of your grasp,' she said.

  Secure in the centre of her army, Jennesta stared down from her chariot on the hilltop.

  A seething battle was underway in front of the squalid, smoking settlement. Trapped by the steep sides of the valley, pinned down by her loyalists and those pathetic human and orcish renegades, Hobrow's Unis were grimly digging in.

  She laughed. 'Pitiful, aren't they, Mersadion?'

  'Yes, my Lady.' Unconsciously, the general's hand lifted to touch his scarred and blistered cheek. 'But there are still twenty thousand of them.'