“You’re making too much of it,” he hissed.
“Am I?”
“Your orders are simple enough: recover the instrumen-talities.”
“You make it sound simple. The reality turns out to be a lot messier.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Or is that just my elven way of looking at things?”
“Perhaps. Then again, maybe we goblins have a tendency to see events as a little too black and white.”
Pelli smiled. “That’s quite an admission.”
“One thing about being in the Corps and mixing with other races is that it exposes you to different views. But I stand by what I said. Our mission has a plain objective.”
“It did. But now there are two sets of instrumentalities, and at least one other player in this drama. Those factors increase the variables. I’m in a quandary about how to tackle the problem.”
“We have the weaponry. Resolve to use it against the orcs and that sorceress alike. And not just a mild dose, like before.”
“Again, easily said. But it doesn’t take into account the innocent casualties that could cause and-”
“It’s not for me to remind you, but what the Corps believes in and what it expects is getting back instrumentalities, whatever the cost. If that can be done without harming the blameless, well and good. But it’s not the primary consideration.”
“That’s where my doubts set in. It’s been generations since the Corps had to do anything like this, and those rules were formulated long ago.”
“That doesn’t make them wrong.”
“I think they are. Which is why I’m wondering if I’m best suited to lead this unit.” She sighed. “The way things are going, my first assignment looks like being my last.”
“Karrell Revers gave you this job because he knew you could do it. And you can, if you get over your scruples and see our work as being for the greater good.”
“So a few deaths of bystanders along the way is an acceptable price, yes, I know. I can’t accept that.”
Weevan-Jirst studied her face, his own remaining typically expressionless. “Who exactly are these bystanders?” He jabbed a lean hand at the ocean. “How many true innocents are we likely to meet on the islands out there?”
“Enough.”
“Or is it that you have sympathy for one group in particular?” It was hardly a question.
“The orcs? You know I have… not sympathy, but some regard for the fix they’re in.”
“You can’t see them as innocent.”
“I see them as unwitting.”
“Don’t forget they attacked us.”
“I don’t think that was deliberate.”
“Not deliberate? You’re talking about a savage, destructive race. One of a very few never granted membership or knowledge of the Corps.”
“Many races are maligned. There are those who would tar all goblins with the same brush because of the actions of a few.”
He nodded soberly. “I’ll grant you that.”
“So how can we be sure that what’s said about orcs is true? And even if it is, it’s the nature they were born with. Who are we to judge?”
“The Corps judges all the time. It decides who can’t have instrumentalities, and the means necessary to enforce that. Having the instrumentalities fall into the hands of a race beyond the pale like the orcs, and that sorceress, is what the Corps was set up to prevent.”
Staring at the distant horizon, again she sighed, more in resignation this time. “I suppose you’re right. There is a bigger picture. I’ll be mindful of it.”
“You will forgive me for what I am about to say. And I would not like you to think…”
She had never known him to be hesitant before. “Yes?”
“I would not like you to think that my words are inspired by anything other than making our mission a success.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Gratified as I am to hear that you intend acting more decisively, I understand this might prove… difficult for you. In that event, I would be prepared to assume leadership of this unit.”
Pelli needed a moment to take that in. “You’re challenging my command?”
“No. I’m merely stating that if you’re unable to fulfil your function I will step in.”
“That would be your duty in any event, if I were killed or badly wounded or-”
“Those aren’t the eventualities I have in mind.”
“What is?”
“Your possible reluctance to employ the force necessary when it comes to the crunch.”
“I see.”
“I have the right to take over,” Weevan-Jirst reminded her. “It’s laid out in the Corps’ tenets. You would be bound to give me access to your means of contacting Revers, and I would report your incapacity to him.”
“Did he put you up to this? I mean, were you briefed that you might need to take such action?”
“Only… in so many words.”
“So Revers doesn’t trust me?”
“He mistrusts your inexperience. As a responsible leader, he had to plan for any… shortcomings.”
“At what point am I considered incompetent? Am I to make every decision with your reaction in mind? I can’t see that making my position easier.”
“Naturally I would apply common sense. But if the success of this mission were to be threatened by inaction on your part, I would move to relieve you of your command. Not that I would lightly adopt such a course.”
If there was a way of telling when a goblin looked embarrassed, she didn’t know it. But it was obvious he was serious.
“You won’t have to,” she told him.
10
The Wolverines built a funeral pyre on the beach of the elves’ island.
Stryke would have preferred to skip the ritual and push on. But the discontent about Harglo’s burial at sea felt by many in the band was something he didn’t want to rekindle.
Assuming the function that was once performed by his predecessor, the late Alfray, Dallog again conducted a ritual in which he entrusted their fallen comrade to the care of the gods. Not everyone in the band was happy with the corporal fulfilling this role; Haskeer in particular wore an expression showing more than simple grief. But he and the few other dissenters held their peace.
Bhose’s corpse was laid on the pyre. His weapons, helm and shield were distributed amongst the band, as was the custom, but his sword was placed in his hand. Then Stryke said a few words, paying tribute to Bhose’s courage and loyalty, and they consigned his body to the flames.
All the elves had gathered, watching from a distance in respectful silence. Mindful of not stoking tensions in the band, Pepperdyne saw to it that he and Standeven also stood apart. Coilla would have preferred Pepperdyne at her side, but throughout the ceremony contented herself with sidelong glances that caught his eye.
It took some hours for the pyre to do its work. The Wolverines stayed to the end, in a mood close to reverential, while the elves slowly drifted back to their settlement. At length, Stryke broke the spell with an order for the band to stand down.
As he passed, Haskeer said, “Another good comrade gone.”
Stryke nodded. “Yeah.”
“This mission’s costing us dear in lives.”
“It’s the price we have to pay sometimes.”
“Did Bhose have to pay it today?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know that the way we fought made much sense. Trying to box those goblins in, then taking it out to the beach.”
“What would you have done?”
“It ain’t just that; it’s this whole mission. It started simple. Now we’re floating round these lousy islands with a bunch of hangers-on and the band bleeding members.”
“You’re painting it too black. We fight and some of us die, you know that. It’s the orcs’ lot.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And we’ve no choice. At least, I haven’t as long as Thirzarr’s out there somewhere. Even if we were ready to leave we can’t rely on the stars anymore. So like it or not, we’re stuck with what we’ve got.”
“And if we don’t make it home?”