"For a while," the shaman said. "But as I understand it, the xulgaths are the enemies of everyone without scales, and it's always been orcs and humans pushing back that kept them from overrunning your world. If the tribes of men fall, the balance shifts."
"But if we kill the giant," Kagur said, "the xulgaths lose heart, and life goes back to the way it was."
Ikolch frowned like she was actually mulling that over. But her hesitation gave another orc the chance to push to the front of the circle of spectators and join the deliberations. He was losing his coarse black hair in the front, which had the effect of making him look like he had a higher forehead than his brutish fellows, and he bore a regular pattern of zigzag scars on his chest that someone must have cut there on purpose.
"That's Yunal," Dalk murmured, "the orcs' shaman."
"This is stupid," Yunal said. "I haven't seen the future the strangers foretell."
"Maybe because we're going to prevent it," Kagur said.
The orc seer ignored her. "Humans are the cowards, and they want to trick us into fighting the giant and the xulgaths for them!"
"Wrong," said Holg. "What we actually need from you is your boats."
Yunal blinked. "Why?"
Holg explained.
Afterward, Ikolch frowned. "We use the canoes to fish the river. We don't take them out on the lake."
Kagur shrugged. "Water is water."
Yunal sneered. "Says the fool! The reptiles in the lake are more dangerous than the ones in the river."
"We'll kill what we need to kill," Kagur replied.
Ikolch chuckled. "I do like the way you talk."
Yunal shot her a sour look. "Talk is all it is. It would be stupid to help humans!"
"It will only be one time," said Holg, "and we promise not to tell."
"Maybe their words are only talk," said Ikolch to Yunal. "But with the ghost-giant to help them, the xulgaths are stronger than before."
"The humans will lure Skulltakers to their deaths!"
"The plan is reckless," said Vom. "But that's good. That's why the xulgaths won't be expecting it."
Ikolch scratched at a stain on one of her tusks. "They'd never expect orcs and men to ally against them, I'll give you that. And folk would remember our names forever."
"Not if we fail," Yunal snarled, "and we would, following humans."
"No one's asking you to follow," Vom replied. "Our people may not like each other, but we'll do this as comrades, fighting together."
"No," Yunal said. "We orcs would be carrying out your plan."
"My plan," Kagur said. "And if someone needs to lead, it should be me. I've known Eovath—the giant—my whole life. I know how he thinks, and that's why I can kill him."
"And," Vom added, "she fights better than any warrior I've ever seen."
Yunal snorted. "The strongest human is puny compared to the weakest orc." Some of his tribe laughed or clamored in agreement.
But then a youthful voice said, "Kagur fights better than anyone I've ever seen, too."
Kagur turned to discover it was Nesteruk who'd spoken and wondered fleetingly how she'd missed spotting him hitherto. Maybe he'd been standing behind someone taller.
But though she was surprised at him speaking up, Ikolch looked even more so. "What do you know about it?" the orc leader demanded.
Nesteruk hesitated, and Kagur abruptly sensed he was the hulking female's son, and that she was the one who'd forbidden him to explore the tunnels running out of the Vault. In his place, Kagur wouldn't have cared to confess disobedience, either.
He did, though. He told about the fight in the red-lit pit in a way that made Kagur sound like a true daughter of Gorum, although Holg and his magic came in for a share of the praise as well.
When Nesteruk finished, Ikolch's fist clenched the shaft of her war club so tightly that the wood creaked. "You and I will talk later," she promised.
"Yes," Kagur said, stepping forth from her companions, "let's finish our parley first. You just heard one of your own vouch for my prowess. And much of that is skill. But I also have weapons better than yours. Weapons that make me a match for any foe, even a giant and the beasts he commands." She slapped herself on the chest. "Hit me with your club."
Ikolch eyed her. "It will kill you."
"What do you care?"
"You saved my whelp. But have it your way." Ikolch lifted the club, and the orcs howled encouragement.
The coat of leather was protection. But no armor afforded complete protection, particularly if a carnivorous plant had previously gnawed patches of it thin. So, though the point of the demonstration was to show the efficacy of the reinforced leather, Kagur had no intention of letting the club bash her squarely or strike her breasts or vitals. She twisted and caught the blow on her forearm at an angle that made it glance down and off. She hoped the resulting noise, a sort of smacking thump, was still loud enough to impress.
Habit, frustration at her failure to pulp human flesh and smash human bone, or a combination of the two made Ikolch swing the club back up for a second blow. Kagur sprang backward, whipped her father's longsword from the scabbard, and, extending her arm, put her point in line.
Orcs exclaimed to see a blade so long, or maybe at the flash of steel. Poised to rush into striking distance, Ikolch stopped short just in time to avoid spitting herself.
"Touch it," Kagur invited. "Feel how sharp it is."
Ikolch did. A bead of blood welled from the resulting cut on her fingertip.
"I also have this," Kagur said. Pivoting, she thrust the sword back in its sheath, nocked an arrow, drew, and loosed at the trunk of a tree on the other side of the open space.
Flint, sadly, wasn't steel. But the longbow was as powerful as ever, and the points Denda had shaped were razor sharp. The arrow punched through bark and into the wood beneath.
Many of the orcs goggled, and why not? They recognized that none of them could throw a javelin as fast and hard.
But if Yunal was impressed, Kagur couldn't tell it from his sneer. "Is that all?" he asked. "Are these the tricks that will help Skulltaker warriors defeat giants and beasts as tall as trees?"
"Eovath's not as tall as a tree," Kagur replied, "but yes."
"Then prove it!" Yunal snapped. "Kill Old Scar. By yourself. Then the Skulltakers will help the Dragonflies."
"Agreed," Kagur said.
"No!" cried Vom. "That's mad! No one can kill a longstrider by himself! Especially not Old Scar!"
"I will," Kagur said. "What is a longstrider, anyway?"
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Black Jungle
Holg shook his head. "I don't like this. Even if you succeed, I'm not certain the orcs will keep their promise."
"I am," Kagur said. "The filthy things have no honor, but they do have pride. If I pass the test they set me themselves, it would shame them to go back on their word."
The old man frowned. "Hm. Maybe."
"Besides, they are worried about Eovath and the xulgaths, and they crave the glory they'll win by hurting the reptiles in a way no one has before. They just need convincing that the scheme can work."
"Well, then, if you're sure you have to try, I should be coming with you."
"You can't. I said I'd hunt alone. Spend the time talking to the Dragonflies. The Skulltakers too, if they'll let you. Find out everything they know about the xulgaths."
"All right." Holg raised his staff to the sky, chanted a prayer, and laid his hand on her shoulder. Warmth tingled through her, clearing her mind and infusing her with a feeling of vitality. The shaman had given her his blessing.
And with that, she supposed, she might as well set forth. She gave a nod to Vom, Dalk, Nesteruk, Ikolch, and Yunal—she assumed the adult orcs were there to make sure she didn't take a whole hunting party of Dragonflies along with her—turned, and headed down the trail.
Below her lay what the cave dwellers called "the Black Jungle." The thick canopy of branches and tree-fern fronds looked green enough
to her, but Vom had explained that from time to time, dark flowers bloomed among them in such profusion that the foliage appeared murky from a distance.
Which was the way the folk of the highlands generally saw this particular forest, even though it teemed with game and edible plants. Few hunters were reckless enough to trespass on Old Scar's territory.
Longstriders were apparently huge carnivorous reptiles that walked on their hind legs, so dangerous they put even spiketails and threehorns to shame. But even compared to others of his kind, Old Scar was a terror. For some reason, he hated both humans and orcs, and would even stop gorging on a fresh kill to pursue either through mile after mile of forest.
Living on the tundra, Kagur had heard stories of dragon-like creatures called linnorms, and a land to the west where lords proved their fitness to rule by killing them single-handed. She told herself that if those hunters could do that, she could bring down Old Scar. She'd make a start by scouting his territory and hope she didn't run into the longstrider himself before she was ready.
As she stalked along, she drew on everything Vom, Bok, Rho, and Tlee had taught her to stay clear of other dangers. Their haphazard instruction was by no means enough to enable her to make her way with the same casual certainty she would have felt on the tundra. But it kept her downwind and at a safe distance from an oblivious threehorn and forestalled any urge she might otherwise have felt to sample a glossy red fruit that would have given her belly cramps and the runs.
It didn't, however, prevent something from spotting her, hearing her, or catching her scent. In time, she caught a glimpse of the creature pacing her while slipping from the cover of one tree-fern to the next.
At first, even though by now she was well inside the jungle they allegedly avoided, she thought her stalker was a man or an orc. It was the right size and walked on two legs. But as, trying not to let on that she'd noticed it, she continued to watch from the corner of her eye, she eventually made out that it was a reptile with a stripe of ragged-looking crimson hide running from its snout all the way to the tip of its tail.
To a degree, it resembled Vom's description of a longstrider, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd attracted the attention of a young one. But the Dragonfly leader hadn't mentioned a streak of red, and the forelegs looked too long, so she decided this was more likely something else.
Whatever it was, it was plainly interested in her, and she wondered if she should shoot it before it made up its mind to attack. But she was reluctant to risk losing any of the arrows on which she, Denda, and the three youths had labored. She intended them for larger game.
She set her longbow and quiver against a tree so they wouldn't hinder her and to make sure they wouldn't be damaged. Then she drew her father's sword and, slashing it back and forth to make the steel flash in the sunlight, strode straight toward the reptile.
At first, it simply stared back at her, and she thought her aggressive display might convince it to go look for easier prey. Then it exploded into a charge, and a second such creature, one she hadn't spotted, burst from the ferns behind it.
They were quick, coming on faster than a man could sprint. Their speed inspired a witless urge to get out of the way now, but Kagur resisted it. If she dodged too soon, the reptiles would only compensate.
So she waited until the creature in the lead sprang, the claws on its forefeet and the larger spurs on the back ones poised to rip simultaneously. Then she spun herself out of the way and cut open its flank as it hurtled by.
The longsword sliced deep, and the reptile screeched and landed badly. But then, staggering, it caught its balance and whirled back in Kagur's direction.
She lunged and slashed at its neck before it could quite finish turning. Her blade spattered blood through the air as she yanked it back out of the wound, and the reptile went down thrashing.
The second creature leaped at her right over the spasmodic body of its dying packmate. Grunting, she wrenched herself out of the way and somehow sensed at the same instant that by avoiding one attack, she was making herself vulnerable to another. She kept spinning and discovered a third reptile pouncing to tear her head off.
She dropped to one knee, and as the beast leaped over her, she slashed open its belly. When the beast landed and pivoted, its intestines started sliding out of the gash. Seemingly addled by the sudden shock of the wound, it scrabbled at the glistening lengths of gut, which had the effect of yanking them out faster.
The creature might still pose a threat, but Kagur had no choice but to turn her back on it anyway, to face the reptile she had yet to strike. She jumped up and pivoted just in time to meet the swipe of a forefoot with a cut that severed a clawed toe.
The reptile lifted a hind leg and swung its dagger-like spur in a horizontal arc. Kagur simultaneously retreated a step and slashed. Her sword cut deep, and when the creature set its foot back down, the limb gave way beneath it. As the beast toppled, she lunged and drove her point up under its ribs, surely piercing a vital organ of some sort.
Instantly, she turned, surveying the battleground. No fourth reptile was rushing in to threaten her, and the one she'd sliced from ribs to crotch lay in a pile of its own guts, croaking and shaking. Panting, heart thumping, she finished killing it, wiped her sword on a fern, retrieved her bow and quiver, and then continued on her way.
She spent the night in another tree and realized she'd started to feel comfortable doing so. Maybe that was why she slept soundly enough to dream.
She stood on a hillside looking down at a settlement walled with a log palisade, and though she'd never seen the place in waking life, she somehow knew this was Tolguth. The cluster of wooden buildings stood at the foot of the Tusks and in the strangely lush northeastern corner of the country her people claimed for their own.
Generally speaking, her nomadic folk had no use for such fixed abodes. But Tolguth wasn't just a town. It was a fortress, a defense against the great creatures of these unnaturally warm valleys and abominations spawned by the Worldwound farther east.
Intermittently aware that she was dreaming, she contemplated the settlement for a time, and though no sound, smell, or shadow alerted her, she gradually came to feel the weight of a presence behind her. It was disturbing from the start and grew steadily more so, as though enemies were massing in greater and greater numbers.
She needed to turn and face the danger like a proper Blacklion. But that realization was only a thought and nothing more, as if she'd forgotten how to translate ideas into action.
Then Eovath's voice rumbled at her back: "You really should see them as they are in this final moment before the killing begins."
The words freed her, or perhaps compelled her. She turned and caught her breath.
His golden hair and steel axe shining in the sunlight, Eovath grinned at her like he wanted her to share in his exhilaration. All around him, the gigantic reptiles of Orv, threehorns, spiketails, redstripes like the ones she'd recently fought, and others she had yet to encounter in waking life, awaited his command, while overhead, spearbeaks soared on leathery wings.
"This is wrong," Kagur said. "The guards on the walls see you. They must."
Eovath shrugged. "They mainly watch the east, where the demons are. But if you think they'd spot us, then they can. It won't make any difference."
Suddenly, down in the village, horns blared and blatted. Men ran to arm themselves and report to their battle stations like ants scurrying around a damaged nest.
Eovath raised his eyebrows. "Is that better?"
"You don't have to do this," Kagur said. "You avenged your blood kin when you killed the Blacklions. The folk down there have never wronged you."
"That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. But the pack has made a long, hard trek on short rations. They're hungry." The giant swung his axe over his head to point at Tolguth. Roaring and snarling, the reptiles surged into motion like an avalanche of huge, scaly bodies, gnashing fangs, and claws. Their strides shook the ground under Kagur's feet.
As they charged, arrows flew at them, and despite the protection leathery hide afforded, some faltered or even fell down thrashing. But then spearbeaks swooped at the archers on the wall-walks, knocking them from their perches, and the defensive volleys abated.
Somewhat resembling the redstripes but standing so tall that even Eovath looked small in comparison, the longstriders bounded across the ground and could have been the first of all the truly enormous beasts to reach the wall. They stopped short, though, deferring to even huger four-footed reptiles with little heads on the ends of long, flexible necks.
The long-necked reptiles simply crashed into the palisade. Some suffered as a result, pierced by the points carved at the tops of the logs composing the barrier or by the jagged shards of wood resulting from its demolition. Lowing like oxen, blood pouring out around their stamping feet and lashing tails, several creatures hung impaled on the wreckage.
"That's too bad," Eovath said. "But snakenecks aren't really all that good at killing, and I won't need to knock down any more walls after this."
The redstripes rushed through the breach, if that was the right term when in fact scarcely any of the north wall was still standing. Hunting in groups of two, three, or four, they assailed any humans within reach.
Though quite possibly shocked by the destruction of the wall, the people of Tolguth were seasoned warriors, and they met the redstripes' onslaught with equal ferocity. For a moment, had Kagur been cognizant only of that aspect of the battle, she might have believed the defenders had a reasonable chance of prevailing.
Then the longstriders followed their smaller cousins through the breach. Their forelegs were stunted, seemingly useless things, but they didn't need them to wreak havoc. Their jaws and fangs were huge enough to scoop up a man, chew him to shreds, and swallow him down in an instant. Stooping and straightening, they did so repeatedly. Meanwhile, they crushed other folk beneath their three-toed feet or pulped them with sweeps of their tails, maybe without even realizing they were doing it.
Suddenly, trumpeting of a different sort shrilled through the air. Mammoths and their riders ran to engage the attackers, and for the first time since the battle started, Kagur felt a thrill of hope. Huge as the reptiles were, the woolly beasts with their deeply curved tusks were big and strong enough to contend with them. They had to be!
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