"Paradise, huh?"
The young man nodded, wiping at his nose. Dane met Aiden's eyes again, receiving an almost imperceptible shake of the head and then they both were looking at the prisoner again.
"That was three months ago. What else have you and these men taken part in since?"
"Uh..."
"If you're such a coward that you haven't done anything 'til now, what makes you think we would want you?" The man's face looked confused at first and then went blank. "You can go back and tell Xavier he needs to work on the sob story a little more."
"Treasonous dog!" The prisoner snarled and lunged at Dane, pulling a dagger he must have hidden away.
Aiden's sword pierced the imposter's heart a second after one of Dane's knives lodged in his throat. The Lieutenant withdrew his weapon and turned, his tall and wiry frame stretched to full height.
"I told you idiots to search them good," he snapped at the rest of their group.
Dane chuckled as the men began a very thorough, very rough inspection. He shared a grin with Aiden and turned back to his horse as his second bent over to clean his blade. After detouring to their pack horses and retrieving his heavy coat and a cloak, he made his way back to the horse he had picked out and remounted. A quick scan of the area reassured that the men had things in hand, so he nudged his mount in the direction of Aiden.
"I was expecting something like that, but certainly not so soon," he said once he was beside his Lieutenant.
"Aye, either we are already causing more trouble than Xavier's comfortable with, or someone was looking to improve his lot in life by thinking he could spy for his King." Aiden thumped a boot into the body at his feet when he said the last bit and handed over Dane's two throwing knives.
"Probably the latter. Young fool was too anxious. Still... we are going to need to be more cautious from now on. I doubt there is anything we can do to keep all the spies out, but..."
"True," said Aiden. "We will just try to keep an eye on any new recruits. That and maybe make sure someone that's been with us all the way knows any new people. Or at least... well... just make sure those in charge of anything important are trusted."
Aiden shrugged, and turned back to their men. There really was not much else they could do aside from keeping vigilant. They would be betrayed at some point. The trick was to minimize the damage that any one person could do. Dane grunted an agreement to his second and then nudged his mount into motion. They could only do their best, and hope it was enough. This may not have been a big victory, but it was start.
CHAPTER SIX
Glory for the Wolf
Cold. That was all Troy could think about. How mind numbingly cold it was atop the ramparts as the wind ripped down the Pass and hit the walls like one of those avalanches he had seen once. He had been on day watch, staring at the mountains far off to the right of the fort, when he saw the side of the snow covered peak begin to shift. At first it looked almost like melting wax as the snow shifted, then he watched the movement grow and pick up speed. The soft, white powder turned into a battering ram, flattening everything in its path. As he watched it rip up a pretty good wall of trees and carry them away, he had shivered from more than the cold. There was nothing a mere man could do against a force like that. It left him in awe, but also glad he was behind solid fort walls and away from any high peaks.
Now, as the cutting wind hit the stone walls, drove over the top and right through his heavy coat and fur-lined cloak, he thought he might know how those trees had felt. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Standing behind one of the merlons helped some, but he could only do that for so long. He was supposed to be walking the battlements on a regular patrol and if Sergeant Bettis found him cowering from the wind instead of doing his duty, he would be lucky if all he got was stable work. The Sergeant was already in a foul mood as it was, and Troy had no intention of becoming the focus of the man's wrath. Bettis was as by-the-book as you got, and not prone to unjust punishment, but he was already angry when he was transferred here four months ago. The state of things here at the fort and in the local garrisons had been chapping the soldier's ass almost from the day he arrived.
It had started out as just a few men being transferred away with no replacements coming in. By itself, that would not be a big deal, but it was not a one=time thing. It began to happen regularly, until the post became dangerously under-manned. Sergeant Bettis and Captain Whitley had become frustrated. They were not always able to keep their complaints unheard by the men, and that had started the grumbling from the other soldiers. He did not really get what all of the fuss was about, since there had not been the first sign of any Orc or Goblin in the Pass for over three years. This post had become a dead end; a place they sent green recruits and soldiers that were never going any further up in rank.
It had appeared that might be changing when, not long after Bettis arrived, they had started getting in a few soldiers here and there. Not in the same numbers as were being transferred out, but still there were men coming in. The fact that nearly all of the new transfers appeared to be exemplary (the Captain's word, he was pretty sure it meant good) soldiers was a surprise, but it actually added to the confusion. What had changed?
Then they started hearing the stories from the new men. A lot of them were hard to believe; people getting arrested for little to no reason, impossible to pay taxes, executions, and even a town being put to the torch. The soldiers went from confused to worried. The mood around the fort was only getting more fearful as the days went by, and it did not help that they had not received their weekly supplies and orders. A day or two late was not unheard of, but it had been five. He shook his head and shivered again. The Captain sent out a patrol to search for the missing supplies; or if they reached Miller's Crossing first, they were to check in with the small post there. If there had been no word, they were to send a message requesting an investigation and more supplies. With those men gone, they had even less soldiers to stand watch.
That meant that instead of the eight-man rotation for the wall, four on either side of the gate, there was only two per side. Troy's partner had scurried inside for a privy break a while ago, and had still not returned. He knew Hamil was just milking it, and would take as long as possible before returning to the freezing ramparts. Troy did not really blame him, since he had taken a longer break himself earlier. That left him manning this section alone for the time being.
He straightened a little and stepped away from the wall when he heard the door to the fort's interior opening. He straightened up completely when he saw that it was Private Wells, instead of Hamil. The clouds were heavy, so what little moonlight there would have been was blotted out, and he could only tell it was her when she was within arm's reach. He understood why they could not have torches atop the wall, but since nothing ever happened here, he thought it was a pointless rule. He really thought it was dumb right now.
Why such a beautiful woman would choose to be a soldier was beyond him. She could be working in some tavern, charming drunks out of their coin. Better yet, getting paid to let men give her a good tumble. He would have paid good money for her. His thoughts were waylaid as she held out a steaming mug to him.
"Thanks, Wells," he said brightly. He put on his most charming smile, though she probably still could not see it. She had waited for a moment for her eyes to adjust, but not long enough to let her night vision completely take.
"Thank the Sergeant. He ordered me to bring it."
Not deterred in the least, he moved closer to her as he sipped at the soup and enjoyed the bit of warmth that seeped through his gloves from the mug. With her arms wrapped tightly around her, she stepped past him and he once more cursed the lack of light. She was not wearing a coat or cloak, had even forgone the uniform tabard, but without any light he would have to settle for his memories of how the tight leather pants hugged her curvy form.
For a moment the moaning whistle of the wind, and the pelting snow were loud enough to drown out anything
she might have said. She came to a stop a step back from the wall as he knew she probably would, and looked toward the Pass.
"Black as pitch," she said when the wind finally died down a bit. "Tough break drawing this watch, Givens. At least it's almost over."
"Yeah, freezing my ass off, too. Sun ain't even gonna show for another hour or so." He tossed the now empty mug aside and stepped right up to her as he watched her shiver in response. "Of course, I know a good way to warm us up." He pressed up against her, hip to hip, and grabbed a handful of her ass. He got a sharp, hard elbow in the gut for his trouble. She turned in his direction and stepped back to the wall, even though the wind had to be painfully cold coming between the merlons.
"You're such a pig, Givens." The disgust on her face was plain even in the near blackness.
"We all know you're a whore, Wells. What... are you saving it for the Sergeant? Or maybe it's the Captain," he said while still hunched over and trying to catch his breath. She hit damn hard for a woman.
He straightened up and stepped closer when he finished speaking. He could see when the disgust changed into anger. Her shoulder-length blond hair was whipping about crazily in the wind and she reached up a hand to hold it back.
"You'll damn well nev-"
She did not even get a chance to scream before she was ripped over the wall and out of sight. In the precious moments it took his cold numbed brain to figure out she had not went crazy and jumped over the wall, a brute of a Goblin slid into her place and snarled a hideous fanged grin at him. He felt the sword entering his chest even as he was drawing in a lung full of the freezing air. The last thing he saw was more of the beasts pouring over the wall in front of him. His own scream did not make it out either, trapped forever when the world went black.
#
The anticipation was enough to keep Choss bouncing on the balls of his feet. He and twenty more Wolf clan warriors waited with five hundred Goblin fighters for the gate to be opened by a similar group of warriors that went up their ladders and over the top of the wall. It had been hard not to join those that would be the first to see the enemy. The first to strike fear into their hearts. He had consoled himself with the fact that once the gate opened, he would be the first Orc to truly step foot into Human lands since the last war. Not some Human slave doing under-handed spy work, sneaking through the night to deliver and receive messages. Not a band of Goblins with an Orc leading them as they hid in the shadows and skulked about in secret. He would take the first real step on the path to glory.
While some of the younger Orcs whined at the notion of attacking an unprepared enemy, most did not care and just wanted to get their claws bloody, as the saying went. He did not fall into the line of thinking that the enemy should be given warning and be allowed to prepare. This was not some ritualistic undertaking, or clan feud. The glory here would not come from single combat to the death. These Humans did not understand honor and glory the way an Orc did. They wallowed in the dirt like animals, scratching and clawing at each other and used treachery to get what they wanted. They would use trickery and lies like an Orc used his blade, and the attack would not come from the opponent in front of you. It would sneak up from behind, stabbing you in the back. So they would not regard them with the honor due a respected adversary. They would put them down like the rabid animals they were. While he would not underestimate their cunning, he would also not treat them as equals. This determination would carry them through the coming war, and as he stood waiting for the gates to open he grinned in anticipation at the men around him.
The wind was still driving hard down the Pass, and between the steady hiss of snow striking the stone walls and the moaning whistle created as the gusts whipped through the crags and around the sharp corners of the man-made structure, he could not hear any sounds of fighting behind the thick stone walls. A smile of satisfaction crept onto his face as he realized that they must have been able to take the guards completely by surprise. No cry or alarm had been heard from atop the battlements, so they were right in the middle of the enemy before that enemy even knew what happened.
The barely audible sounds of fighting caught his attention. His ears were not the only ones that swiveled toward the heavy wooden doors at the growing sounds of battle. The muffled shouts and clang of steel were covered even further by a heavy thump and scraping coming directly from the other side of the obstruction. As soon as the sound stopped, the gates began to split. Aided by the wind howling down the pass, he and the other men shoved the portal doors wide open, knocking a few Goblin fighters down as it went. Ignoring the fallen slaves, he charged through the entrance and into the resistance that had begun forming in the courtyard.
The smell of stale sweat, cooked meat and Human fear washed over him as he entered the courtyard. Flicking his ears back and forth as he crossed the open square of space fifteen paces across and thirty long, he picked up the war cries and grunts of exertion from his fellow clan members coming from both sides. Some were ahead of him, fighting the group of Humans that had been able to assemble there. Others came from the open doorways at either corner of the yard by the gate. Human noises of anger, despair, surprise, and pain mixed in with the victorious howls of his brothers to create a joyous sound to Choss' ears.
"Tarill! Take some men to check that door. Seval! You get the other side," Choss shouted to the two warriors directly behind him, pointing out the doorways as he passed them.
By the time he had stopped shouting, his long strides had taken him halfway across the courtyard to a group of Humans that were forming up at the opposite end.
"Form up ranks! Shields to the front, damn you!"
Choss' attention immediately focused in on the Human shouting in the choppy Common tongue, and he wasted no time swerving in that direction. The voice belonged to a fit looking Human who was still shouting and shoving men into a more disciplined form of defense than the chaos swirling around behind him. As more men poured out of the doors at his end of the yard, the Human moved them into a wall of shields and weapons, steadying them by sheer force of will. They were two to three ranks deep in an arc that was nine men across.
This side of the courtyard had a large opening that turned into a passage ten paces long, ending at the opposite gate of the fort. It was a good, defensible position. The passage did not appear to have any doors that opened into it; they could fight without worrying about an enemy attacking from the rear. Choss directed two more Orcs to take care of the doors to either side on this end of the yard. The Humans still trickling out of those openings would be cut off and easily handled by the men with him and the ones already inside.
The Goblin foot soldiers were normally sent ahead in these situations, to wear down an opponent. They would send wave after wave of slaves against the shield wall until the line broke from fatigue or just being overwhelmed by numbers. Choss, however, could not hold back his blood lust any longer and was the first to reach the enemy. He finished his shouted orders at the same moment he reached the defensive line of Humans.
The shield directly in front of him went up as soon as the bearer saw how tall his opponent was. This was a common mistake made by a Human that was inexperienced at fighting Orcs. The shield was now blocking him from view and also left the enemy vulnerable from the waist down. Choss gave the fool no time to realize the mistake. He could hear the chainmail rattling even before he had reached his foe, so he directed his scimitar low. As the blade sliced deep into a leg, he chanced a quick glance to either side. The shield bearer to the right was already occupied with a Goblin. Using the war axe in his left hand, he hooked away the spear coming at him from the left side, directing it past him and leaving the wielder's side open. Even as the combatant in front of him crumpled to the ground screaming, his scimitar came up and over so fast that he could hear the whistle as it sliced through the air before driving into the new opponent. Luck was on his side as he aimed for the armpit; the blade must have found a gap in the chainmail, since it slid into the Human's chest with
out much resistance.
He slammed a boot into the toppling soldier, propelling him backwards even as his weapon was pulled free. The falling Human took out the legs of the man behind him, who fell forward into the next man on Choss' left. The Orc that was engaged with that man took advantage and his sword nearly took the soldier's head off. This chain of events disrupted the line enough for them to pour through the new opening. Not one to be left out, Choss followed the fourth of his warriors into the gap.
Once that happened, the chaos was too much for the defenders. Their wall fell apart completely and it turned into a melee which Choss' men won if for no more reason than sheer numbers. They took many casualties; the Humans earned some respect by how hard they fought, killing more of his people than he expected. The hardest fighting came when they got into the passage. Several of the defenders turned and ran for the gate, but there were a handful that stood and fought. Three of those showed a skill level that even the most contemptuous of his people could not ignore, and more Goblin and Orc bodies filled the tunnel-like hallway than he was comfortable with. It was not until he and Seval, a bloodthirsty Troop Leader even by Goblin standards, moved in to help that they were able to put the last of them down.
He sent a party after the ones that had made it outside, and then turned back to Seval. The Orc had a troubled look on his face as he stood, staring at the corpses of those that had fought so well.
"That one is a female," the warrior said softly.
"And do not forget that fact. Just because they are an inferior species, does not mean they are incapable. You saw firsthand that some of them make a worthy opponent. Spread the tale of how these Humans fought and died."
Seval snapped his head around to look Choss in the eye.
"They may have had some skill, but I'll not ev-"
"I would never expect you to fear them, or for any other Orc to. However, I will not tolerate failure just because some fool underestimated his enemy," Choss said, hands raised to calm the sometimes unstable warrior.
An Adept's Duty: The Scepter of Maris: Book Two Page 5