Jup smiled wryly. "That's what I like about you orcs. You see everything so… direct. But some feelings can't be got rid of that easily."
"You'll snap out of it when we catch the Gatherers."
"You think we will?"
"Whatever it takes."
"Thanks." The dwarf eyed his captain. "Expect you think I've gone soft."
"No."
"We dwarfs tend to mate for life. So to win Spurral and then lose her…"
"I know how I'd feel if anything happened to Thirzarr, Jup, or the hatchlings."
"She sounds a good sort, your Thirzarr. Wish I could have met her."
"You'd get on. You've something in common."
"What's that?"
"You're both stubborn as mules."
Calthmon, one of the veteran Wolverine privates, called out from the oars, "They're gaining on us!" He pointed at the mysterious ship stalking them.
"He's right," Pepperdyne confirmed. "They're putting on some knots."
Stryke hailed the second boat. "See that?" He indicated the ship.
"We noticed!" Coilla yelled back. "What do we do?"
"Row double time and put some distance between us."
"Run?" Haskeer exclaimed. "Since when did we dodge a fight?"
"If it's the same lot who ambushed us in Acurial," Stryke told him, "I don't want to face their magic in open boats. Now up the pace!"
All hands to the oars, the boats increased speed, and at first they widened the gap.
"They're catching up!" Dallog warned.
Pepperdyne looked back. "At this rate they'll be on us in no time."
"There's no way of outrunning them?" Stryke asked.
"Not with the wind-power they've got. Only thing I can suggest is we take our boats on different courses. Spread the targets."
Stryke considered it. "No. If we have to make a stand we'll do it together."
Sails billowing, the ship came relentlessly closer. Finally it slowed and was looming over them. Seeing no point in wasting the rowers' muscle power, Stryke ordered the oars to be drawn. But he passed the word that they should be ready to resume at short notice.
"Now what?" Jup wondered, staring up at the massive wooden wall overshadowing them.
Figures appeared at the ship's rail and looked down at the boats. They were of diverse species, and familiar to the orcs.
"It's them all right," Dallog said. "The bunch from Acurial. And there's that elf who leads them."
"Attention, Wolverines!"
"What the hell?" Jup exclaimed.
"This is Pelli Madayar."
"How is her voice that… loud?" Dallog said.
"It's being amplified in some unnatural way," Pepperdyne reckoned.
"Must be magic," Stryke agreed.
"Hear me, Wolverines! We have to talk."
"About what?" Stryke yelled.
"The topic I broached with you in Acurial."
"She's on about the stars again," Jup said.
Stryke nodded. "You've had your answer on that!" he shouted back. "Nothing's changed!"
"I have to insist that we negotiate. Heave to and board our ship."
"No way!"
"Would you prefer that I came down to you? To show good faith."
"You don't get it, do you? There's nothing to talk about!"
"Refusal isn't an option, Captain Stryke. If you won't negotiate, I must demand that you hand over the artefacts."
"Demand be fucked!" Haskeer thundered loud enough for all to hear.
"Who they hell do they think they are?" Coilla added, enraged.
"Steady!" Stryke cautioned. To Pelli Madayar he bellowed, "You were told before: we don't take kindly to demands!"
"Then we cannot be held responsible for the consequences of your obstinacy."
"Why can't she talk plain like everybody else?" Haskeer grumbled.
"Pass on the word to be ready to move," Stryke told Dallog under his breath.
" This is your last chance, Wolverines," Pelli warned. "I strongly advise you to lay down your arms and parley with us."
"Go!" Stryke roared. " Move! Get those oars moving!"
The boats glided away, the rowers straining. Stryke was no seafarer, but he knew a sailing ship couldn't set off from a standing start the way his boats could. He just hoped they'd get enough of a head start to stand a chance.
But the Gateway Corps had no need of pursuit.
The orcs had barely escaped the shadow of the ship when the air crackled. A blinding luminous beam struck the short stretch of water between the two boats.
More shafts of incandescent light, red, purple and green, immediately followed. All came close to the vessels, but like the first they punched the ocean. Where they landed, the water boiled and gave off clouds of steam.
"Are they warning shots?" Pepperdyne wondered.
"Either that or they're lousy at aiming," Stryke came back.
No sooner had he spoken than a fiery bolt struck the craft Coilla commanded. It wasn't a direct strike; the beam sliced into the rail and clean through one of the oars, neatly severing it. The impact was enough to rock the boat.
"To hell with this," Stryke cursed. "If one of those hits dead-on we're done for."
"So what do we do?" Jup said.
"Give 'em something back." He yelled an order stridently enough that it could be heard on both boats.
Stryke had had the foresight to place a more or less equal number of the band's best archers in each vessel. The order he issued, using phrases that meant nothing to outsiders, told them which strategy to use.
They plucked prepared arrows, with tips wrapped in tar-smeared windings. Sparks were struck, igniting the bolts. Then, at Stryke's signal, they were loosed in the direction of the ship — not at any of the beings on board, but at the sails. Most of the viscous, flaming missiles found their target, igniting the sheets. In seconds, several patches were ablaze. Figures could be seen running about the deck.
"Now let's move!" Stryke shouted.
The boats pulled off again. To their rear, the sails were well alight. Several more energy beams flared from the ship, but they were wide of the mark.
"That'll give the bastards something to think about," Jup commented.
"For now," Stryke said. "But I don't think they're the sort to give up too easily. Come on, rowers! Put your backs into it! "
It didn't take them too long to put a respectable distance between themselves and the burning ship. Nevertheless, Stryke didn't let the boats slacken their pace. He wanted to get as far away as possible.
"What do you reckon to the damage on the other boat?" he asked Pepperdyne.
"Hard to say without actually being over there. But it doesn't look too bad from here. It's not been holed, that's the main thing. We should be able to patch it up soon as we get the chance."
"Good enough."
Throughout the whole episode Standeven had done exactly what they expected of him: he kept low and cowered. Now he rose and gingerly made his way to Stryke and Pepperdyne.
Seeing him approach, Stryke said sarcastically, "Come to help, have you?"
"No," the human replied soberly, as though it were a genuine question. "I wondered…"
"Spit it out."
"I wanted to be sure the instrumentalities were safe."
Stryke glared at him. "What?"
"They're secure, right?"
"What the hell's that got to do with you?"
"It concerns all of us. They're our only way to — "
"They're just fine." Despite himself, Stryke's hand instinctively went to the pouch.
"You're sure that they — "
"Why the interest? What business is it of yours?"
"Like I said — "
"Ignore him, Stryke," Pepperdyne intervened. "It's just his weak-minded fear talking."
Standeven shot him a venomous look.
"Well, he can keep his fears to himself in future and let me look after the stars."
"Of course, Captain," Standeven said, oozing with sycophancy. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He turned and picked his way back to his seat.
Stryke glanced at Pepperdyne. The human didn't meet his gaze.