Stryke was in the back of the first wagon, alongside Brelan. He gestured for Haskeer, Coilla and Wheam to jump on. They quickly clambered aboard and the wagon moved off at speed.
Coilla expelled the breath she'd been holding. "Good timing."
"Glad you could make it," Stryke replied. "How'd you get on?"
"Killed our share," Haskeer informed him bluntly.
"Wheam gets the gold feather," Coilla said. "Claimed his first kill."
Stryke looked impressed. "Well done. You'll find it'll come naturally now."
Wheam mumbled something that included the words lute and bastard.
"What?"
"Broke my lute," Wheam grumbled. "Swine."
Stryke gave Coilla a quizzical look.
"Human broke his thingamabob," she explained. "Lit Wheam's fire."
"We'll find you another one," Stryke promised.
"No we fucking won't," Haskeer exclaimed, alarmed. He saw Stryke's face and shut up.
"Where we going?" Coilla asked.
Brelan spoke for the first time. "Not far. A place we commandeered near the centre. There's something you Wolverines need to know."
He wouldn't be drawn on what, and the rest of the journey was spent in silence through streets much emptier than they had been before the uprising took hold.
Soon they came to a large civic hall, complete with columns and surrounded by ornate iron fences. It was an old building, originating in the orcs' distant, more glorious past. Latterly it had been taken over by the occupiers. It was testament to the progress the rebels had made that they had taken it back.
Brelan suggested that Coilla, Wheam and Haskeer clean up and feed themselves while he talked with Stryke. Reluctantly, they obeyed.
Stryke was taken along crowded corridors and past faded embellishments to a room empty but for Chillder.
"We have news," Brelan stated without preamble.
"So spit it out," Stryke suggested.
"We thought we'd made things bad for the humans. Now we know it. We've heard that Jennesta's getting ready to flee the city."
"How do you know this?"
"Oh, the word's reliable. We've an army of informers, some in high places. They say she's got together a bunch of military loyal to her and they're about to make for the south coast, probably to a waiting ship. She might have left already."
"You can't let her get away."
"Unfortunately, we can."
"But — "
Brelan stilled him with a raised hand. "We can't spare the forces. And when it comes down to it, she's just one individual. It's all the same to us if she's gone or dead. She'll still be out of our way."
"Brelan, you can't — "
" But you and your band are free agents. And we know you have some kind of personal grudge against Jennesta, so — "
"A grudge?"
"We're not stupid. You know, our mother never quite believed your story, and we've always had doubts about where you were from and what you were doing here."
"There's no need to say anything, Stryke," Chillder assured him. "We're grateful enough to you and your band that anything that's gone before isn't important."
"Will you do it?" Brelan wanted to know. "We've fresh horses for you, and supplies. What we can't let you have is any of our fighters."
"Wouldn't want 'em. Though a guide would help."
"We've maps."
"Good enough. But I need to talk this over with my band."
"They're gathered downstairs. Don't be long. Jennesta might already have a head start."
Stryke was taken to a large chamber that looked as though it had served as a grand feasting room in olden days. All the Wolverines were there, as were Pepperdyne and Standeven. Jugs of water and of wine had been put out for them. Haskeer was sampling the wine. Wheam was being made a fuss over by his fellow tyros, and not a few veterans.
"We've got to make this quick," Stryke informed them briskly. "You been told what's going on?" Just about everybody shook his head. "Story is Jennesta's about to run for the coast. Might have started by now."
"What are the rebels doing about it?" Coilla wanted to know.
"It's down to us. If we want the mission."
"Do we fuck," Haskeer thundered. "Let's go after the bitch."
There was a general murmur of agreement.
"Anybody see why we shouldn't?" Stryke said.
No one did.
"So what's the plan?" Pepperdyne asked.
"Wait a minute," Haskeer objected. "Who said you were coming along?"
"I'm not wasting time arguing about these two," Stryke declared, waving a hand at Pepperdyne and Standeven. "Choice is between leaving them here or taking them with us. I reckon it's better to take 'em."
"Why?"
"They have a grievance against Jennesta too," Coilla reminded him. "Don't you, Jode?"
"Er… yes." He knew this was no time to deviate from the cover story he and Standeven had concocted.
"And we know Jode's more than handy in a scrap," Coilla added.
"Maybe," Haskeer granted. "But why do we need this other one? He's no use in a fight."
"Talk about me like I'm not here, why don't you," Standeven protested.
"Yeah, we will," Stryke assured him. "I reckon I'd rather have you where I can see you, 'specially given how the rebels feel about that thing with the intruder. Or whatever he was."
"How many more times," Standeven responded, "do I have to explain — "
"We're not going through it again. You two are coming. And like I said, we're not debating this. All of you: get yourselves ready, on the double. We leave as soon as I've seen Brelan and Chillder."
"I'll come with you," Coilla decided.
They left the band collecting their gear.
The first thing Chillder said when they found her was, "You're going?"
Stryke nodded.
"I have a feeling we won't be seeing you again."
"Who knows?" Strangely, he had a similar feeling.
"I hope we will," Brelan offered.
"Way things are going," Coilla reckoned, "you two are probably going to be too busy running the country."
"Thanks in part to you. And we're grateful."
"Yeah, well," Stryke told them, "let's not get sloppy. We could lose Jennesta and be back tomorrow."
"Perhaps."
"I'd like to have a minute with the Vixens," Coilla requested.
"Most of them are outside," Brelan said.
"That all right, Stryke? I'll be quick."
"Go."
She wished the twins good luck and went out.
Chillder smiled. "Whatever your true goal is Stryke, we hope you reach it." As he was leaving she added, "That bit in the prophecy about a legendary band."
"What of it?"
"Maybe it was true."
12
There was only one main road leading to the southern coast. Or more accurately only one that was likely to be suitable for the small army accompanying Jennesta. The Wolverines took it.
Before they left, they learned a little more from the rebels' spies. General Hacher, it seemed, had mysteriously disappeared. Having promoted some aide or other to fill the gap, Jennesta had promptly abandoned the successor to his fate. Of more interest to the band was that she had insisted on being transported from the city by carriage, and that supply wagons had been taken along. The Wolverines, on the other hand, travelled light.
After a quarter day's hard riding they got a first glimpse of the sea. Their approach was on high ground, and they could look down on the bay and its tiny harbour.
"No ship," Coilla said.
"And no Jennesta," Stryke replied.
"Could she have got away?"
"Doubt it. There's not been time. You'd at least expect to see a sail on the horizon. I reckon the ship she's summoned hasn't got here yet."
"So where is she?"
"Dunno. Send out scouts." He had an idea. "No, wait. Jup! Over here! "