“Why?”
“He says he’s got magic. We might need that. And before you say it; yes, we don’t really know anything about him. I’ll take that risk.” He looked to Haskeer. “You’ll head the main force.”
“So I get the pleasure of Wheam’s company. Lucky me. Pepperdyne, too?”
“Yes.”
“What about the other one?”
“Standeven stays on the ship. You’ll keep an eye on him, Dallog.”
Somebody rapped on the door and barged in. It was Finje, breathing hard from a dash.
“We can see it,” he reported. “The island. It’s in sight.”
“It’s big,” Stryke said, peering at the long black slab of the island, outlined on the horizon by the spreading dawn. “Funny it’s not on the map.” He shot Dynahla a searching look, coloured with a hint of suspicion.
“There are lots of maps. I doubt there’s one that charts this world accurately. Anyway, what’s the worry? There it is.”
“You’re sure Jennesta’s there, and Thirzarr?”
“Yes.”
“Because Serapheim told you so.”
“Not just that. Now we’re close I can sense the presence myself.”
“ You can? How?”
“As with so much to do with the craft, it’s hard to explain to the uninitiated. Let’s just say that living things give out a certain… cadence, and some of us can detect it.”
“I can’t pretend to understand that.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it then. But be certain that Jennesta, and your mate, are on that island.”
They were at the ship’s prow, and Stryke carried on staring at the island for a moment before speaking again. “The plan’s to send in a snatch squad to get Thirzarr out before we launch a full attack. Will you be part of the squad?”
“I think I ought to be. Though you should be aware that Jennesta’s sorcery is stronger than you know, and quite possibly greater than anything I can summon.”
“That’s better than nothing. But here’s something you should be aware of. All I know about you is what you’ve told us. On the strength of that I’m trusting you. Betray that trust, or do anything that might harm Thirzarr, and you won’t be coming back from this mission, whatever happens to the rest of us. Got it?”
“I understand. You can rely on me, Stryke. Now unless there’s anything else, I’d like to prepare.”
“What does that involve?”
“Nothing too drastic. I just need to find a quiet corner for contemplation, to centre myself.”
“I need to do some preparing myself. I’ll send for you when it’s time.”
From the bridge, Coilla and Pepperdyne watched Stryke and the shape-changer part.
“Think we can trust him?” Pepperdyne said.
“Stryke seems to. Not that he has much choice. Though it’ll go badly for Dynahla if this is some kind of trick.”
“It’d go pretty badly for us as well.”
“The band’s used to being in tight spots.”
“It’s not the band I’m worried about. It’s you.”
“You’re worried about an orc going into a fight.” She had to smile. “That’s like worrying about a bird flying or whether a fish can swim.”
“Hunters bring down birds and fish lose out to hooks.”
“I’m not a fish or a bird, so I’ve nothing to worry about, have
I?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Look, Jode; my race lives for combat. It’s what we do. Or hadn’t you noticed? I’d have thought you’d understand, being a fighter yourself.”
“Only out of necessity.”
“And you get no pleasure from winning a fight? No rush of joy when you down an opponent?”
“Well… maybe. A bit. But I don’t relish putting my life on the line every day the way you do.”
“It’s in our nature. We fight, and we fight to kill. If death takes us, that’s the price we pay. Though we do our best to make damn sure it’s who we’re up against that does the paying. We trust to our skill, and to luck and to the Tetrad. If you want an orcs’ creed, that’s as near as I can get to it in words.”
“I’m not arguing about your nature, Coilla. That’s part of what I love about you, and I’d never change it. I only want you to be careful.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
Pepperdyne slapped his forehead with the heel of his palm in a gesture of mock exasperation, and they laughed.
“So what’s the plan?” he said. “How are we going about this raid?”
“Stryke’ll be briefing us shortly, but the idea’s to anchor well offshore and go over in boats. If we get there without being spotted we split into our two groups and the game’s on.”
“And if we are spotted?”
“Then it gets messy.”
It happened as Coilla said. All lights extinguished, the ship was anchored as far from the island as practicable. Dallog’s unit was left in charge. The rest of the band cautiously lowered the boats, and likewise in darkness, made for the shore using muffled oars.
The sea was obligingly calm. It did little to reduce the tension of the crossing. Eyes and ears sharp, silence imposed, they expected the alarm to be raised at any moment. But they reached the shore apparently unseen. There was no sign of Jennesta’s ships; the band assumed they were anchored on another side of the island.
The point at which they met the shore was rocky and too steep for a landing. So they moved along the coastline, keeping close, until they found a sandy beach. Clambering ashore, they headed for the shelter of trees, dragging the boats behind them.
To face Jennesta, they had to find her. Stryke sent out as many scouts as he could spare. Zoda, Prooq, Nep, Breggin and Orbon got the job. Treading lightly, they fanned out into the jungle. The rest of the Wolverines kept low and quiet, and waited.
It wasn’t a long vigil. The island was large, but Jennesta had seen no point in penetrating its interior to set up a temporary camp. Her force was located a short distance inland, and to the west. There were guards, of course; and Breggin and Zoda, who got nearest, thought Jennesta’s army might have grown. Stryke gave no time to wondering how that could be.
He ordered the band into its two groups. The larger, main force, lead by Haskeer, would follow the snatch squad but at a slower pace. At a prearranged spot it would stop and wait for its signal to attack. If the signal didn’t come, no one doubted they would go in anyway.
It was full night when Stryke headed off, with Jup, Coilla, Dynahla, Eldo and Reafdaw in tow, the latter pair carrying bows. Dynahla refused any kind of weapon beyond a small decorative dagger he always wore.
Coilla shot Pepperdyne a quick smile as they left. He returned a wink, braving Haskeer’s scowl.
The snatch squad travelled with measured speed, careful not to give themselves away. Soon they were out of sight of the main force at their rear. Following the scouts’ directions, they forged on through semi-jungle conditions, aggravating but far from impenetrable, until they came to clearer land. Moon and star shine were more plentiful here, and the band moved sure-footedly. At last they arrived at a grassy rise. Going up it on their bellies, they peeked over its crest at the vale below. They saw a cluster of tents, tethered horses, and figures outlined in the glow of cooking fires and armourers’ braziers.
Anticipating a possible refusal, Stryke left Dynahla out of dealing with guards. There seemed to be four, but they weren’t fixed. Their patrolling took them across the orcs’ path to the camp. Stryke thought to let Eldo’s and Reafdaw’s bows take care of them. The guards patrolled in pairs, which made the task easier. The trick was to eliminate one pair without the other knowing. That meant waiting until they were out of each other’s sight.
The four guards, having completed their rounds, were bunched together. Any attempt to drop them by Stryke’s two archers ran the risk of their targets raising the alarm before they could reload and reaim. But finally the guards parted, each pair moving away in opposite directions. Stryke sent Reafdaw and Eldo to the right, to shadow the duo walking that way. Hunters and prey soon disappeared from view. The other pair of guards, heading left, had also gone beyond seeing.