"You can't deny that incidents have increased of late, sir."
"Yes, they have. What do you expect when you prod a hornet's nest? I believe the resistance, the actual core, is quite small, but I've never said they weren't dangerous, and I'm all for coming down on them hard. But I can't help but feel that Jennesta's policy is only making matters worse."
"Perhaps this comet the orcs are so excited about is what's really stirring them up, sir."
"And who's putting the idea into their heads of linking it with omens and prophecies? No, we should be using a rapier here, not an axe."
"Regrettably, sir, your counsel is unlikely to sway the lady Jennesta."
"You're telling me." Hacher grew thoughtful. "Though there is one weapon in our armoury that could be useful in winkling out the real insurrectionists."
"Your… source," Frynt said knowingly.
The general nodded. "Although it isn't entirely certain that I can keep that channel open, it might prove invaluable."
"But surely, sir, all this talk of rebellion is somewhat academic in light of the nature of the orcs we're governing. The majority are passive."
"Jennesta doesn't think so. She maintains the entire race is capable of something like savagery. Though what experience she might have had with them to reach such a conclusion is open to question."
"And you, sir? Do you think they have some buried appetite for combat?"
Hacher turned and surveyed the city. "Perhaps we're about to find out."
At one of the resistance's safe houses, hidden in the tangle of the troubled capital's back streets, Jode Pepperdyne and Micalor Standeven had found a secluded room.
"How often do I have to tell you?" Standeven angrily protested.
"Try me one more time," Pepperdyne said.
"I had nothing to do with Coilla's star going missing!"
"Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"So why do you bother asking me? You know, back where we come from, your badgering would have been seen as gross disobedience."
Pepperdyne laughed in his face. "But we're not there, are we?"
"More's the pity."
"I don't like being stuck in this world any more than you do. Assuming you do mind."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"If the stars hadn't gone missing we wouldn't be here."
" And that had nothing to do with me," Standeven repeated.
"So you say. But given we are stranded here, why do you keep needling the band? They're the only allies we've got, and they don't trust us."
"They never did."
"Speak for yourself."
"They're orcs. Humans aren't exactly their favourite race, in case you hadn't noticed what they're doing to them here."
"I think they know when somebody's treating them straight. Most of them, anyway."
"You're a fool, Pepperdyne. The only reason we're still with them, why we're still alive, is because it suits them. Don't go misplacing your trust."
"What, I should put it in you?"
"You could do worse."
"Only if I'd gone insane."
Standeven's bile was rising again. "You might do well," he uttered vindictively, "to think about your position if we ever get back home."
"Your threats don't wash here. Or hasn't that dawned on you yet?"
"I'm just reminding you what our relative positions were, and how they could be that way again. How you behave here's going to have a bearing on how I choose to treat you in future."
"You don't get it, do you? The way things are going, we might not have a future. And if we're into reminding each other about events, remember that you wouldn't be here… hell, you wouldn't be at all, if it hadn't been for me."
"One of your obligations is to look after your master's safety. It's your duty!"
Pepperdyne lunged and grabbed him by the scruff. "If you think you don't owe me your life, maybe I'll take it back."
"Take your filthy hands off me, you — "
The door opened.
Pepperdyne let go of Standeven.
Coilla came in. "Jode? Are you — Oh."
Standeven transferred his red-faced glare from Pepperdyne to her. " Don't mind me," he snarled. Shoving past her, he left.
"Let him go," Pepperdyne said.
"I wasn't thinking of stopping him," Coilla replied. She closed the door. "You were arguing."
"Very perceptive."
"If you want to be let alone I can — "
"Sorry." His tone was conciliatory. "It's just that he gets under my skin."
"You're not alone."
He nodded. "What was it you wanted, Coilla?"
"Well, first off, I thought you could use some of this." She handed him a brandy flask.
He accepted it, took a swig and gave it back. "And second?"
"You two left in such a hurry, I just wanted you to know that not everybody in the band thinks badly of you."
"What, both of us? Me and… him?" He nodded at the door.
"I was thinking of you."
"Thanks." He smiled. "But I reckon you're in a minority of one."
"Oh, I don't know. I reckon Stryke has some regard for you. Maybe a couple of the others."
"They've a funny way of showing it."
"You've got to understand how it is between orcs and humans. And not just in this world. We've got… history."
"Maybe that's something I can understand."
"Can you?"
"You think orcs were the only downtrodden race on our world?"
"You're a human. Your kind does the treading."
"There are humans and humans."
"Isn't it time you came clean about yourself?"
"What's to tell?" he came back stiffly.
"Don't close up on me."
"Would knowing my past change anything? I mean, haven't I proven myself yet?"
"You have to me. But most of the others…"
"I give you my word that I had nothing to do with the theft of the star."
"And what would your partner say if I asked him about it?"
"Standeven's not my partner," he returned sharply. "And he'd give you his word too."
"What value could I put on that?"
"As much as I do."
"How much is that?"
"If Standeven says he didn't — "
"Why are you so loyal to him, Jode?"
He sighed. "Habit, I suppose. And not wanting to believe certain things even of him."
"What is the bond between you two?"
"Complicated."
"Not enough. Tell me more."
He had to grin. "You're persistent, Coilla, I'll give you that."
"So reward me. Open up a bit. I'd like to know something about the man I owe my life to."
"How about that flask again?"
She dug it out. He took another draught. Coilla had one too.
"Well?" she said.
"I'm a Trougathian."
"You're a what?"
"A Trougathian. After Trougath, the place we come from."
"Never heard of it." There was a chair by her, and she sat.
He followed her lead and perched on a barrel of nails. "The world you and I come from is much bigger than the part you call Maras-Dantia."
"And your race renamed Centrasia," she replied with a trace of bitterness.
" Some humans did. My sort didn't get to name places."
"So what sort are they?"
"A little like you orcs."
"Yeah?" She couldn't keep the scepticism out of her voice.
"Well, I said a little like. But there's a couple of similarities. One is that my race has a martial tradition too."
"That explains your skill with a blade. So your race fights as a living, like we do?"
"No. It's not inborn with us; it's learnt. Though over so long a time it practically is inborn now. But we're not fighters by inclination, or even choice. It was just practical. Most of my race would prefer untroubled lives."
"If you didn't choose to fight, you must have something to defend."
"Ourselves. And our land."
"The first I understand. But dying for land, that seems odd to me. Maybe because orcs never had any."