Stryke figured that if they couldn't fight the strangers' magic, they could fight Jennesta's army. As there was no way to escape, he argued, they could at least kill something.
At first it went well. They charged into the fray and gave a good account of themselves, downing troops and hacking zombies to pieces. But it didn't take long for both Jennesta and the strangers to notice them. A bombardment of enchantments forced the band to retreat. Though Stryke wasn't alone in thinking that, vicious as their magic was, neither side was actually trying too hard to kill them.
The band pulled back to the edge of the beach and the shelter of rocks.
"The stars!" Haskeer pleaded. "Use 'em now!"
"Lay off!" Stryke snapped. "Coilla! Are we all here?"
"No. We're missing Dallog, Wheam and a couple of the other tyros."
"Bloody typical," Haskeer moaned.
"I'll go and look for them," Stryke decided.
"I'll come with you," Coilla told him. "No, no argument. You'll need somebody to watch your back."
"All right."
"Me too," Pepperdyne said.
"No," said Stryke.
"Going to stop me?"
"If I have to. But better that you stay here and help hold our position."
"But — "
"Do it, Jode," Coilla said. "I'll… We'll be fine."
"If you're going," Haskeer grated, "you better get a fucking move on."
Stryke tossed his head. "Come on."
They ran towards the scrum.
The bodies barring their way were all human or zombie. The wizardry was taking place farther down the beach, at the water's edge. But soldiers and the undead were still a formidable obstacle.
Stryke and Coilla hacked, slashed, stabbed and battered their way through them. They had a few errant energy bolts to dodge on the way. Some of Jennesta's horde weren't so lucky.
"I see 'em!" Coilla yelled. She pointed.
Dallog and a couple of tyros were slugging it out with twice their number of soldiers.
Coilla and Stryke fought their way to them.
Their blades quickly turned the tide. A bloody exchange saw the attackers overcome.
"Where's Wheam, Dallog?" Stryke asked.
"Down there!"
Further along the beach, Wheam was trying to hold off a pair of zombies. He had his new musical instrument strapped to his back, and looked more worried about protecting it than about himself.
"I'll get him," Stryke said.
"We'll come!" Coilla and Dallog chorused.
" No. I'll not have the band scattered again. Get yourselves back to the others. Now."
They left reluctantly. He plunged back into the fray.
Coilla, Dallog and the tyros had as tough a path to travel on the way back as she and Stryke had had on the way out. The troops seemed to be everywhere, and none left them unchallenged. By the time their goal was in sight, their blades ran with gore.
"Can you make it alone from here, Dallog?" Coilla said.
"'Course."
"Get on then."
"What about you?"
"I'm going after Stryke."
"But he said — "
"Just get these two back, all right?" She ran off.
Stryke came at one of the zombies from the back and ran it through. True to experience it hardly registered the blow. So he took to chopping at it, as though he were felling a dead tree. When enough major damage had been inflicted the armless creature hopped on its one leg for an instant, then collapsed. The second zombie Stryke simply decapitated, sending its head bouncing in the blood-soaked sand.
"Am I glad to see you, Captain," Wheam panted.
"I'm going to get you out of here. Stay close."
Before they could move, Coilla arrived.
"I thought I told you — "
"You need me," she said. "Look around. Somebody's got to cover your back."
"All right. Let's go."
It was getting harder to steer a way that didn't have troops in it. So they were compelled to carve a path. But still the increasing opposition made them take a different route back. It took them past a large outcropping of rock.
It was only very shortly after what happened next that Stryke started to think they'd been deliberately herded that way.
Jennesta stepped out from behind the rock.
The trio stopped in their tracks.
"Run, Wheam!" Coilla pleaded. "Get out of here!"
The youth fled.
Jennesta laughed, disturbingly. "It seems not all orcs are courageous."
Stryke and Coilla rushed her as one, their blades levelled.
She made a swift hand gesture. The pair instantly froze in their tracks, rigid as statues.
Strangely, the fighting seemed to have frozen too. Or at least the sound and sight of it had. It was either more of Jennesta's magic, or her followers had fallen back, reinforcing the suspicion that it had been a setup.
"Now that I've got you nicely calmed," Jennesta said, "we can have a civilised conversation."
Stryke and Coilla were helpless. They struggled to move or make a sound but couldn't.
"When I say conversation, of course, that doesn't imply that you'll be taking part in it. Actually, Stryke, I've got someone here who knows you. Or did." She snapped her fingers loudly.
Two zombies lumbered into sight. They walked on either side of somebody.
It was Thirzarr.
Stryke's mate showed no sign of recognising him. She looked healthy enough, apart from a few bruises, but seemed to be in a light trance or coma.
"Surprised?" Jennesta mocked. "I thought you might be. She isn't fully undead, like my servants here. She's… let us say she's in the stage before that, and could go either way. A zombie or back to how she was. You can decide which."
For all his torment, Stryke couldn't break through her enchantment.
"My proposition is straightforward," she informed him. "I'll free your mate if you and your band surrender yourselves to me. Just the orcs; I've no need for the other types you have hanging on. Do that, Stryke, and you'll not only free Thirzarr, you'll also be part of a wonderful enterprise. The Wolverines will form the nucleus of my zombie orc army. Quite a combination, yes? Unquestioning obedience coupled with your peerless fighting skills and robust fitness. A great improvement on the present sort." She indicated her zombie slaves with a casual flick of the hand. "Think of it, Stryke. You'll be able to fight and conquer to your black heart's content. Not just in one world, but many. All of them. With the instrumentalities turned out on a mass scale… Oh, yes. That's how I come to be here. I copied yours. And now I know I have the means perfected, I can start to build an army of totally compliant orcs to conquer… well, everywhere really. Anyway, that's the proposition. I'm going to sever the bonds holding you now so you can give your answer. One move and you'll go back to helplessness." She gestured with her hands again.
Stryke thawed. Despite his rage and anguish he fought back the urge to leap for her throat. He knew it would be futile, and he needed to bide his time. If he had any. He kept his bile for words. "You stinking bitch! What have you done to Thirzarr? And what about our hatchlings? Where are they?"
"You don't expect me to tell you, do you? Your brats are not the issue. Your mate or your band. What's your answer?"
"I can't agree, not on behalf of the others. They fought hard for their freedom. I can't be the one to make them forfeit it."
"Then your mate becomes a mindless slave. Perhaps you'd like a mindless slave for a mate. I could see it might have some advantages. Is that it, Stryke?"
"If you'd only face me one to one, in a fair — "
She burst out laughing. "Oh, please. As if I'm going to do that. But perhaps there's another way of resolving this."
"How?"
"If you won't capitulate, then settle it in a way more to your liking. In combat. If my champion wins, you succumb. Well, you'll be dead actually, but you would have conceded defeat. You win, you have your mate back, good as new."