"I have to say it, Stryke. Doesn't getting the stars back come first?"
He sighed. "I admit I fouled up over that, but — "
She raised a hand to still him. "I'm not knocking you. I was as much to blame over the one you trusted me with. 'Course we're pledged to helping the rebels. But knowing we can get home's more important, isn't it?"
"On my oath, we'll have the stars back."
Silence descended. It was the younger of the two humans, Jode Pepperdyne, who broke it. "What can we — " He glanced at his companion, Micalor Standeven. "What can I do to help?"
Stryke's reply was a cautious, drawn out, "Well…"
"We're stuck here too, you know," Standeven protested.
"We have to keep plans close to our chests," Stryke explained. "For security."
"You mean you don't trust us," Pepperdyne said.
"Nobody's saying that," Coilla assured him.
He scanned the room, taking in their wary eyes. "What folk say and what they think aren't always the same."
"Not with me," Haskeer told him. "I don't mind saying I reckon too many outsiders know about this band's business."
Coilla glared at him. " Haskeer," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"And when too many know," he ploughed on regardless, "we get treachery."
"I don't have to take these… insinuations," Standeven announced, puffing up his fleshy chest.
"Whatever they are," Haskeer said.
"You're questioning my honour."
"Well ain't that a shame. If you don't like it, you can fuck off."
"That's enough," Stryke warned.
"I know when I'm not wanted!" Standeven responded, summoning up what passed for his dignity. He gestured at Pepperdyne, as though signalling to an obedient cur. "We're leaving!"
Pepperdyne hesitated, catching Coilla's eye for a moment, then followed his departing master.
"Jode!" she called out.
They slammed the door behind them.
Coilla turned on Haskeer. "You fucking… moron! You oaf! We're beholden to Jode. I owe him my life."
"Yeah, him," Haskeer replied. "What about the other one?"
"I… I don't know about Standeven."
"We can't trust either of 'em; they're humans. And you're getting too chummy with the younger one."
Before Coilla could hit back, Stryke took a hand. "Seems we're forgetting something." His expression grew dark. "This is supposed to be a disciplined band," he told them all. "Only some of you are acting like it's not. But there's just one way we're gonna get through this, and that's in good order. That means respecting the chain of command, and obeying orders without bellyaching. And it means an end to this bickering! "
Wheam, along with a couple of the other tyros, visibly winced.
"We're gonna see more discipline in this band," Stryke went on, "and less backbiting. I'm not asking, I'm telling. And if anybody here thinks they can do a better job than me, now's the time to say it." No one broke the hush that had fallen, and few met his eyes. "Right. So no more bullshit. Clear? "
There was a general murmur of agreement.
"What can we do about the stars, Captain?" Dallog asked.
"Hold your horses. Noskaa! " The grunt sprang to his feet. "Check that we're not overheard."
Noskaa went to the door, looked outside and gave a thumbs-up. Then he stood watch there.
"Whether any of you like it or not," Stryke continued, taking a brief look at Coilla, "there could be a traitor, in the resistance or nearer home. So any plan about Jennesta's best kept to us for now."
Dallog said, "This might seem stupid — "
Haskeer cleared his throat, making a noise that implied ridicule but stayed just short of insubordination.
Dallog shot him a glare and tried again. "It could be a dumb question, chief, but how do we know Jennesta has all the stars? Including the one Coilla had, I mean."
"We don't. But it's a good bet she has."
"You mentioned a plan," Jup chipped in. "If it involves getting into the fortress… well, that didn't turn out too brilliant last time, did it?"
"There could be another way."
"Such as?" Coilla wanted to know, her irritability about Pepperdyne still apparent in her tone.
Stryke chose not to pull her up about it. "Something I heard from the resistance might be useful. Seems Jennesta's been making regular trips to some kind of sacred place on the edge of the city. A stone circle."
"What for?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? Something rank, I expect."
"Anyway, what about it?"
"She goes in a carriage, in convoy. It's one time when she might be exposed."
"Why not go for her at the circle?"
"Too well guarded there, and the ground's too open."
"What makes you think she'd have the stars on her?" Haskeer asked.
"Wouldn't you?" Stryke replied. "After all she's been through to get 'em?"
"Even on the road she'd have a heavy guard," Coilla reckoned. " ' Specially on the road."
"Course. But the escort peels off for their barracks just before the fortress. That could be our chance."
"Sounds tight."
"I didn't say it'd be easy."
"Brelan and Chillder aren't going to wear another assassination attempt," Jup decided.
"I'm not saying we should try killing her. Though if we got the chance…"
"Whether we try to kill her or not, Stryke, the resistance won't want to be involved," Coilla said.
"That's another reason we're keeping this to ourselves. We do it without them knowing."
"How?"
"We'd need a cover story. And if we do this right it'd only take about half the band."
"We had a small team last time, and look how that turned out."
"This is different. It's an ambush. We've done plenty of those in the past."
"Never against somebody like Jennesta."
"If you've got a better idea, Coilla…"
"No, I haven't. But I still think we should let Pepperdyne in on this." Haskeer let out a loud groan. Coilla ignored him. "He's an asset. He could help us."
"And he'd keep it a secret from Standeven?" Stryke said.
"I don't think that'd be hard for him."
"I don't trust 'em," Haskeer stated.
" So you said," Coilla responded ominously.
Stryke shook his head. "No. We won't need Pepperdyne. Not the way I'm thinking of doing it."
"What if he and Standeven get wind of it?" Spurral wondered. "Could happen, with all of us cooped up together."
"If they do, we'll kill 'em."
Coilla frowned at that, but said nothing.
"So it's settled," Stryke said. "We'll work on a plan. Meantime, we fight with the resistance. Pepperdyne can help with that. They'll need all the blades they can get with a rebellion coming."
" If it comes," Haskeer muttered.
"Have faith."
"I leave that to the temple priests." He drew his sword and held it up to catch the light, turning its glistening length fiery. "I put my faith in this." He gazed at it almost reverently.
Stryke smiled. " 'Course you do. You're an orc."
"We can't be sure a rebellion's going to work," Coilla reminded them. "This is such a different world. Most of the orcs here are like sheep, and the humans have magic. Not to mention the odds we'd be — "
"It's simple," Stryke interrupted. "We fight, they die."
The grunts gave a ragged cheer at that.
"Hope you're right," she said. "But trouble has a habit of popping up in this place."
He shrugged. "I reckon we'll be fine as long as humans are all we have to cope with."
Not too far away, outside the city limits in one of the sparsely populated, less fruitful areas, stood an abandoned, semi-derelict water mill. The wheel itself was broken, and the watercourse that fed it had dwindled to a weed-choked trickle. Even an astute observer would see the place as desolate and forsaken.
Except perhaps for those possessing the skills of sorcery, or the gods-given power of farsight. These rare individuals might have detected the coppery taste and faintly sulphurous odour of magic cloaking the place. If they were particularly gifted they might have sensed a certain prickling in the atmosphere, a galvanic quality that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up, signifying an enchantment intended to deceive.