He watched the endless caravans groan past. Most of the greenskins were wolf tribes, not much use for Skarsnik’s battles underground, but they had at least a number of ferocious beasts in their rickety cages. He even saw a group of much-battered hobgoblins chained up in one.
What is the world coming to, he thought, if even them treacherous backstabbers aren’t being stabbed first chance? They don’t even taste very nice. Why keep ’em?
He scowled at them. Cowardly at the best of times, they were beaten and downcast, and did not return his gaze.
He smoked awhile with his eyes closed to shut out the horrid glare of the sun until he felt suitably fortified by smoke and brew. He opened one eye, then the other, hiccupped and slid off the rock.
‘Suppose I better be getting on,’ he said. He let his finger rise up of its own accord, snaking around in the clouds of pungent shroomsmoke until it had found the right direction. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘that way.’
He headed east, and the crowds parted for him. Now he was far from the ratties and stunties, he could trust to his status as a shaman of Mork and Gork to keep him safe. It wasn’t just a matter of respect due him for his ability to commune with the Great Twins, but one of fear. Not even the biggest black orc wanted turning into a squig, a magic that was well within Duffskul’s considerable capabilities.
When Skarsnik had called Duffskul in, he hadn’t needed to ask what had happened; Skarsnik’s rooms still stank of magic and rat.
‘You had a visitor, boss?’ he’d said.
‘Them ratties are trying to make a deal,’ Skarsnik said. And then he had told Duffskul what the deal was, and who had made the offer.
Duffskul wasn’t fazed – the ratties were always trying somesuch nonsense or other. ‘Yus, boss,’ Duffskul said. ‘They is always trying to do that, isn’t they, boss? Do deals and that, oh yus.’
‘Yes, yes, they are. But I’m not having any of it. Not this time!’
‘You not going to do it, then? Not make the deal?’
‘Of course I’m going to do it!’ Skarsnik said. He had paced up and down his room with his hands behind his back, head bowed in thought. Gobbla waddled faithfully behind him, the chain that connected them clinking. ‘There’s always more to it with them furry little zoggers. There’ll be some nasty surprise for us in there. And the chances of them giving us back the upper stunty-house like what they said they would are about as big as Kruggler’s brain.’
They both laughed, Duffskul’s eyes spinning madly in his ancient face.
‘What we need is a plan of our own. I says we do what that magic ratfing says. We go in and take these burrowing gizmos off of them rats, burst up through the floor as planned. But…’ Skarsnik held up a finger. There was always a ‘but’ with the king of Eight Peaks, you had to hand it to him. ‘But, we have a few alterations. Make a plan of our own, so to speak. They have a plan, and so I has a plan.’
‘Oh yus, boss, right you are, boss,’ said Duffskul, leaning on his staff. He’d never known Skarsnik not to have a plan. ‘What plan would that be then, boss?’
Skarsnik grinned slyly. He pulled out a heavy-looking sack from under his bed and dropped it on one of his many work desks. It hit the wood with that kind of rich clunk only solid gold makes. He whipped back the filthy material to reveal a battered but still impressive crown. Five types of gold, stunty runes, some really finickity chasing work and an awful lot of big gemstones.
‘Ooh, that’s nice, that’s lovely that is.’ Duffskul reached out a hand; he couldn’t help himself, but snatched it back when Gobbla fixed him with his one good eye and growled.
‘Ogres, Duffskul! Ogres is me plan. Been saving this for a special occasion,’ the boss said. ‘Now’s as good a time as any.’ He nodded at the sack. ‘I’ve heard Golgfag is nearby.’
‘What, Golgfag the incredibly large and famous ogre chieftain, boss?’
‘That’s the one. Golgfag the incredibly large and famous ogre chieftain, Duffskul.’
‘And what do we wants with this incredibly large and famous ogre chieftain? He’s known for not playing it straight, if you gets me, and he often fights for the stunties.’
Skarsnik smiled broadly, Duffskul smiled back. ‘And those two reasons, me old mate, is exactly why we want him, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yus, boss! Oh yus! I gets ya!’
The pair of them had laughed long and hard together. Skarsnik’s snotling food tasters joined in from their cages, not a single idea as to what they were laughing at in their empty little heads.
Now Duffskul pushed on to where his finger told him Golgfag could be found – a trick he’d learned long ago, from the somewhat mad Tarkit Fing-Finga, back in the… Well, there was no telling how long ago it was now. Greenskins swore and cursed as he went against the tide of the migration, moving their wagons aside just the same. Wolves snapped at each other as they were whipped out of the way. The road got progressively narrower as he approached the Tight Spot, where the pass was squeezed hard between two mountains.
Then a wolf was before him, snarling and drooling. Duffskul squeaked with shock, but it yelped as reins tugged its head back. A wall of mangy fur and stinking, bandy-legged goblin raiders flowed into being in front of him.
‘Shaman! Which way to the Eight Peaks?’ a goblin warchief with gold teeth shouted at him, his accent all funny. Duffskul giggled at him, he sounded so stupid. ‘Where do we find Skarsnik the Great?’
The Great? thought Duffskul. He’ll like that. ‘That way!’ he said. ‘Follow the big road up into the mountains. Big city, huge stunty-house. You really can’t miss it, to tell the truth, oh yus.’
The goblin chief wheeled his steed around and let out an ululation, waving his hand around his head. He shot forwards and his band followed, leaping over the ditch, over the uneven ground at the roadside, and scrambling onto the loose rocks and snow that lined the pass. They must have been from the mountains somewhere, because they were quickly away on the rough ground, drawing annoyed shouts from the other goblins forced to trudge along.
A scrapwagon pushed by grumbling stone trolls creaked by next, the slave-cage atop it empty of prisoners but heaped with ragged possessions. A fat goblin on the top waved a couple of snotlings on a stick in front of the trolls to make them move. He looked unspeakably glum, as did the tribe behind. They were all injured, some seriously, many with burns and blackened faces.
There came a blast of brazen horns resounding off the pass’s sides. Gruff orc voices shouted, huge black orcs moving forward in the crowd, shoving lesser greenskins out of the road. ‘Make way! Make way for Drilla Gitsmash! Make way, yer lousy runts!’ They backed their words with slaps and worse, spilling dark red blood on the setts. They stamped forward, until one was right in front of Duffskul, staring down at him with furious eyes. It snorted plumes of steam into the chill mountain air.
‘Get out da way, wizlevard, or you’ll be sorry.’
‘Will I now?’ said Duffskul. He cocked an eyebrow over one mad eye. The black orc roared and hammered its axe against its breastplate, but moved on just the same.
Around the corner came the biggest orc Duffskul had ever seen. That would have been enough to make him shift, but the contraption the orc rode decided it. Duffskul lifted the skirts of his dark robes and hopped over the ditch like he was a hundred years younger. He took up position well out of the way at the foot of a fan of scree.
Drilla Gitsmash’s mount was a clanking, mechanical boar, its black iron spell-marked with the runes of the curly bearded tusk-stunties of the Dark Lands. Steam hissed from its pistons as it trotted by, hooves cracking the slabs. Four banner bearers came after him, holding high icons fashioned from steel. Further along the pass, the black orc heralds were shouting at the goblins and their troll cart, cursing them off the road. Trolls moaned, goblins wailed. A snap cracked off the mountainside, and the cart sagged on a broken axle. Shouting angrily, the black orcs cut the traces of the trolls, put their shoulders to the wagon bed and heaved it over, ignoring the shrill protests of its owners. It toppled into the ditch and broke apart.