Bodyguard of Lightning

by Stan Nicholls

  'Supposing I did. What could you possibly have to say on the matter?'

  'Only that those you seek have another of the relics.'

  'What?'

  'Or perhaps you have no idea what I'm talking about. Again.'

  'How did you come by this news?'

  'I have my sources.'

  'If you had anything to do with this—'

  'Me? And to do with what, exactly?'

  'It would be just like you to try to scupper my plans, Adpar."

  'So you have plans, do you? Perhaps I will take an interest after all.'

  'Stay out of this, Adpar! If you so much as—'

  'Ma'am!' someone called from nearby.

  Jennesta looked up, glaring. General Mersadion was standing several paces away, looking like a child who'd come to announce he'd fouled himself.

  'What is it?' she snapped.

  'You told me to let you know when we reached the point of—'

  'Yes, yes! I'll be there!'

  He backed off, humbly.

  Jennesta turned back to Adpar's grimacing visage. 'You've not heard the last of this!' Then she slashed her hand through the icy, bloodied water, banishing the image.

  She got to her feet and strode to the bowing general.

  They were on a hill overlooking a battlefield. The battle about to start was not particularly large, having perhaps a thousand combatants on either side, but it was to be fought over a point of strategic importance.

  The Queen's side consisted of Manis, dwarves and orcs, the latter, as ever, forming the backbone. The other side was almost entirely composed of Unis, with a smattering of dwarves.

  'I'm ready,' she told Mersadion. 'Prepare the protection.'

  He swiped down his hand and a row of orc buglers further along the hill turned their backs on the battlefield and sounded a shrill blast. Mersadion covered his eyes.

  Down below, Jennesta's army, hearing the signal, did the same thing. Much to the mystification of the Unis.

  She raised her hands and wove a magical conjuration. Next she reached inside her cloak and produced an object resembling an extraordinarily large gem. The multi-faceted fist-sized jewel shimmered, its interior swirling with a myriad of colours.

  She tossed it into the air.

  Jennesta exerted no more than casual force, yet the bizarrely sized gem travelled up and up as though it were a feather caught by the wind. Many of the opposing army below saw it, glinting in the weak sunlight, and followed its climb with fascination. She noticed that a few of the enemy warriors aped her force and covered their eyes. There were always one or two smarter than the rest. But never enough.

  The jewel rose lazily, turning slowly end on end, a glittering pinpoint of concentrated illumination.

  Then it detonated with a silent flash of light that would have shamed a hundred thunderbolts.

  The intense explosion of radiance lasted barely a second. It had hardly faded when the screaming started out below. The enemy were staggering in panic, pawing at their eyes, dropping their weapons, colliding with each other.

  There was another blast from the bugles. Her army uncovered their eyes and rushed in for the slaughter.

  Mersadion was at the Queen's side.

  'A useful addition to our armoury,' she said, 'optical munitions.'

  The screams of the helplessly blind were drifting up to them.

  'We can't use it too often, though,' she added. 'They'll be wise to it. And it is dreadfully draining.' She patted at her forehead with a lace handkerchief. 'Bring me my horse.'

  The General ran off to obey her order.

  On the battlefield, the butchery reached a pitch. It was gratifying, but not her immediate concern.

  Her mind was on the Wolverines.

  22

  The following days passed more or less uneventfully for the Wolverines.

  Only Haskeer's mood caused them concern. He swung between periods of elation and depression, and often said things they found difficult to understand. Alfray assured the band that their comrade was still recovering from an illness most elder race members were lucky to survive, and that he should soon be on the mend. Stryke wasn't alone in wondering when that would happen.

  But this was put to the back of everyone's mind when they arrived at Scratch on the evening of the third day.

  The trolls' homeland was in the centre of the great plains, as near as damn, but the terrain couldn't have been more different to its lush surroundings. Rolling grassland gave way to scrub. In short order the scrub itself blended into shale, and the shale gave way to a landscape more rock than soil.

  Scratch proper was heralded by a collection of what seemed to be ragged hills. Closer inspection revealed them to be rock. It was as though mountains had somehow been covered by earth to ninety per cent of their height, leaving only their rugged peaks exposed.

  What the orcs knew, as everybody did, was that the action of water, aided by troll mining, had honeycombed the porous ground beneath with a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers. What they held was a mystery. Few if any of those bold enough to enter had ever returned to tell their tale.

  'How long has it been since anybody mounted an armed attack on this place?' Stryke wondered.

  'I don't know,' Coilla admitted. 'Though it's a good bet they were of greater strength than a depleted warband.'

  'Kimball Hobrow seems to think he can do it.'

  'He's unlikely to go in with anything less than a small army. We're not much more than a score.'

  'We're small in number, yes; but experienced, well armed, determined—'

  'You don't have to sell it to me, Stryke.' She smiled. 'Not that I'm overly keen on anything that takes me away from the open air.' She glanced around the rocky terrain they were creeping through. 'But none of this means a thing unless we can find a way in.'

  'There're said to be secret ways. We don't have much hope of stumbling on any of those. But a main entrance is spoken of as well. That'd be a start.'

  'Wouldn't they hide a main entrance too?'

  'They might not need to. They'd probably have it well guarded, and perhaps more importantly, the reputation Scratch has is enough to keep most away.'

  'Right on cue. Look.'

  She pointed at a massive outcropping of rock. The face it turned to them was a pool of blackness, much darker than any of the other jutting slabs around it. Staring hard, Stryke realised it was an opening.

  They approached it warily.

  It was a cave-like aperture, but not very big; the size perhaps of a modestly proportioned farmhouse. The interior seemed empty, though they couldn't be entirely sure as it was so dark inside.

  'Just a minute,' Coilla said. 'This should help.'

  She took a flint from her belt, and one of the cloths she used to polish her knives. Making fire, she ignited the twisted rag, producing just enough light for them to see a few steps ahead. They edged in.

  'I'm beginning to think this is just a hollowed rock,' Stryke commented.

  Coilla happened to glance down. 'Stop!' she hissed, grabbing his arm. Her voice echoed. 'Look.'

  No more than three paces ahead of them was a cavernous hole in the ground. They crept to it and peered over, but couldn't make out anything in its inky depths. Coilla dropped the burning cloth. They watched as it became a minute pinpoint of light, then vanished.

  'Could be bottomless,' Coilla speculated.

  'I doubt it. Anyway, unless the other search parties come up with anything better, this might be our only way in. Let's get back.'

  Greever Aulay fingered his eye-patch.

  'It always hurts when those bastards are around,' he complained.

  Lekmann gave a derisive laugh.

  Aulay scowled. 'You can mock. But it was paining like hell when we were in Jennesta's palace with all those damn orcs about the place.'

  'What do you think, Jabez?' Lekmann said. 'Reckon the boy's got an orc sniffer in that empty socket of his?'

  'Nah,' Blaan replied. 'Reckon he does
though, ever since one of 'em took his eye.'

  'You don't know what you're talking about, the pair of you,' Aulay grumbled. 'And don't call me boy, Micah.'

  Trinity was well behind them now. Their search hadn't taken them into the Uni settlement. They wouldn't be so foolhardy. But they knew from speaking to women working in the fields, to whom they presented themselves as good, upright Uni gentlemen, that the Wolverines had been there.

  There had apparently been some kind of a fuss. But when Lekmann tried to find out exactly what, the women clammed up. All they could find out was that the orcs had done something bad enough that it warranted half the township chasing them clear over to Calyparr Inlet. Which seemed to point to the warband not being in league with the Unis. The bounty hunters didn't care about that. All that concerned them was getting the relic, and as many renegade heads as they could carry back for the reward.

  So they headed for Calyparr too, in the hope of picking up the trail. But they had wandered along the water's edge for nearly a day now without seeing hide nor hair of the outlaws.

  'I think we ain't going to find them in these parts,' Blaan declared.

  'You leave the thinking to me, big man,' Lekmann advised him. 'It never was your strong point.'

  'Maybe he's right, Micah,' Aulay said. 'If they were ever here, they've long gone.'

  'Oh, so your eye ain't that reliable after all,' Lekmann mocked.

  Their exchange was cut short as they rounded a knot of trees.

  Lekmann's eyes widened. 'Now what we got here?'

  By the side of the trail was a pitiable makeshift camp. It was populated by a motley crew of human women, children and oldsters. They looked all but done in.

  'Don't see no men,' Aulay remarked. 'None likely to trouble us at any rate.'

  The humans, seeing the approaching riders, began to stir.

  A woman detached herself from the rest and came forward.

  Her garb was grubby and her lengthy blonde hair was bound in a single strand. Lekmann thought there was a certain haughtiness about her.

  She looked at the oddly matched trio. The tall, skinny one with the scar. The short, hard-faced one with the eye-patch. The one with no hair and built like a brick shit-house.

  Lekmann gave her a leering smile. 'Good day.'

  'Who are you?' she asked suspiciously. 'What do you want?'

  'You got nothing to worry about, ma'am. We're just going about our business.' He looked the crowd over. 'In fact we got a lot in common.'

  'You're Manis too?'

  That was what he wanted. 'Yes, ma'am. We're just good gods-fearing folk like yourselves.'

  She seemed relieved at that, but not much.

  Lekmann slipped a foot from its stirrup. 'Mind if we dismount?'

  'I can't stop you.'

  He climbed off his horse, keeping his movements slow and deliberate so as not to spook them. Aulay and Blaan did the same.

  Lekmann stretched. 'Been riding a long time. It's good to take a break.'

  'Don't think we're being unneighbourly,' the woman told him, 'but we've no food nor water to share.'

  'No matter. I can see you're down on your luck. Been on the road long?'

  'Feels like forever.'

  'Where you from?'

  'Ladygrove. There's trouble in those parts.'

  'There's trouble in all parts, ma'am. These are tormented times and that's a fact.'

  She eyed Blaan and Aulay. 'Your friends don't say much.'

  'Men of few words. More doers than talkers, you might say. But let's not waste words ourselves. We stopped because we were hoping you could help us.'

  'Like I said, we don't have any—'

  'No, not that way. It's just that we're looking for . . . certain parties, and as you've been travelling a while we thought you might have seen 'em.'

  'We've seen precious few people on our journey."

  'I'm not talking people. I'm referring to a bunch of elder racers.'

  What could have been a cloud of renewed suspicion passed across her face. 'What race might that be?'

  'Orcs.'

  He thought the word hit some kind of target. The shutters seemed to come down behind her eyes. 'We'll, I don't—'

  'Yes we did, Mummy!'

  The bounty hunters turned and saw a girl child skipping forward. 'Those funny men with the marks on their faces,' she said. Her voice was nasal, as though she had a cold. 'You remember!'

  Lekmann knew they'd struck gold.

  'Oh yes.' The woman strained to sound casual. 'We did run into a group of them, couple of days back. Did no more than pass the time really. They seemed in a hurry.'

  Lekmann was about to put another question when the child came up to him.

  'Are you their friends?' she asked, sniffily.

  'Not now!' he snapped, irritated at the interruption.

  The girl backed off, frightened, and ran for her mother's protection. Lekmann's reaction made the woman even warier. A look of defiance came to her face. The other Manis were stiffening with tension too, but he saw little to worry about there and paid them no heed.

  He dropped the friendly manner. 'You know where these orcs went?'

  'How should I?'

  Now she'd got her back up. That was a shame.

  'Anyway, why do you want to find them?' she added.

  'It's to do with some unfinished business.'

  'You sure you aren't Unis?'

  He grinned like a latrine rat. 'We're not Unis, that's for sure.'

  Aulay and Blaan laughed. Unpleasantly.

  The woman was growing alarmed. 'Who are you?'

  'Just travellers who want to be on our way once we've got some information.' He looked around slyly. 'Maybe your menfolk would know where the orcs went?'

  'They're . . . they're out hunting for food.'

  'Don't think they are, ma'am. I don't think you've got any menfolk.' He glanced at her companions. 'At least none young and fit. One or two would have stayed with you if you had.'

  'They're nearby, and they'll be back any time now.' A note of desperation crept into her voice. 'If you don't want trouble—'

  'You're a bad liar, ma'am.' He stared pointedly at the child. 'Now let's keep this nice and friendly, shall we? Where did those orcs go?'

  She saw what was in his eyes and visibly gave up. 'All right. They did mention something about heading for Scratch.'

  'The trolls' place? Now why would they be doing that?'

  'How should I know?'

  'It don't add up. You sure they didn't tell you anything else?'

  'No, they didn't.' The child tugged at her skirt and started to cry. 'It's all right, darling,' the woman soothed. 'Everything's fine.'

  'Don't believe you're telling me all you know,' Lekmann said menacingly. 'Maybe they ain't even heading for Scratch at all.'

  'I've told you all I know. There's no more.'

  'Well, ma'am, you'll appreciate I have to be sure of that.'

  He nodded at Blaan and Aulay. The three of them moved forward, fanning out.

  By the time they left, he knew she had been telling the truth.

  The way Stryke saw it, circumstances dictated a straightforward plan.

  'We've got just one chance, and I say we have no choice but a direct assault. We go in, do the job, get out.'

  'That sounds fair enough,' Coilla said. 'But think about the difficulties. First, going in. The only possible way we've found is that shaft in the cave. It might not lead into the trolls' labyrinth. Or even if it does, it could be incredibly deep.'

  'We've got plenty of rope. If we need more we can find some vines and make it.'

  'All right. Then you say we'll do the job. A lot easier said than done, Stryke. We don't know how many miles of tunnels there are down there. If they have a star, which is only a maybe at best, we have to find the thing. Don't forget that for all we know, it's going to be pitch black down there. The trolls have eyesight that copes with the dark. We don't.'

  'We'll take torches.
'

  'And really make ourselves obvious. We'll be on their ground and at a disadvantage.'

  'Not as far as our blades go we won't.'

  'Finally, getting out,' she ploughed on. 'Well, that speaks for itself, doesn't it? You're assuming we could.'

  'We've taken on long odds before, Coilla. I'm not going to let that stand in my way.'

  She gave a resigned sigh. 'You're not, are you? You're determined to go through with this.'

  'You know I am. But I'll not take any with me who don't want to go.'

  'That's not the point. It's how we do it that concerns me. Just charging in isn't always the solution, you know.'

  'Sometimes it is. Unless you can see a better way.'

  'That's just it, damn you, I can't.'

  'I know you're worried there's so much that could go wrong. So am I. So we'll take a little time getting this right.'

  'Not too much,' Alfray interjected. 'What about Hobrow?'

  'We bloodied his nose. I don't think he'll be here for a while yet, if at all.'

  'It isn't only Hobrow. For all we know, everybody's out for us. And moving targets are the hardest to hit.'

  'Granted. But targets that hit back tend to get left alone too.'

  'Not when the whole damn country's after their heads.'

  'What did you mean about taking time, Stryke?' Coilla asked. 'How much?'

  He glanced up at the gathering twilight. 'The light's nearly gone. We could spend tomorrow searching for another way in. A really thorough search, with the area sectioned out. If we find a better way in, we'll use it. Otherwise we'll go for the entrance we know.'

  'Or what we think is an entrance,' Coilla corrected him.

  'Stryke, I don't want to put a damper on things,' Jup said, 'but if there's a star here and if we can get it . . . what then?'

  'I was hoping nobody would ask that question.'

  Alfray backed Jup. 'It has to be asked, Stryke. Else why go on here?'

  'We go on because . . . well, because what else is there for us to do? We're orcs. We need a purpose. You know that.'

  'If we carry on as we have, if we're being logical, and assuming we get out of Scratch in one piece, then we need a plan to find out where the other stars are,' Coilla reckoned.