They laughed.
“Sure,” he said. “Give it here.”
She sat up and he commenced scratching.
“Hmmm, that’s good. This isn’t something you can get just anyone to do, you know.”
“Then I’m honoured.”
“Bit higher. Yes, there. Aaaahh. Nice.”
The scratching turned to a gentle massaging. The massage became a series of caresses. She turned her face to his.
They kissed.
It was nearly evening when Stryke emerged from the longhouse the dwarf elder had put at his disposal. He had ordered the band
to gather on the beach, ready for what they hoped would be an initial hop to Maras-Dantia. But when he got there not everyone
was present.
“Where’s Coilla?” he asked.
“No idea,” Jup reported. “Pepperdyne and Standeven are missing, too.”
“Words I’ve been longing to hear,” Haskeer said.
“Don’t start that again,” Stryke told him.
“Well, if the pair of ’em got left behind it’d be no great loss.”
“But it’s not like Coilla to miss a roll call.”
“To be fair,” Jup said, “I don’t think she’s been seen since we were all together earlier. Chances are she didn’t know about
your order to be here now.”
“Anybody seen Coilla lately?” Stryke wanted to know. None of them had. “Give it a couple of minutes, Jup, then start the roll
call. If she’s not here by the time you’re done I’ll send out a search party.”
Jup nodded and set to getting the ranks into order.
Not far off, on the other side of the volcano, Coilla and Pepperdyne were climbing down from the cave. They turned a corner
on the narrow path and saw the beach.
“Shit,” she said. “Looks like Stryke’s mustered the band. They must be getting ready to leave. He’ll kill me for missing the
roll. Come on!”
“Wait!”
“What is it?”
“Down there.” He pointed to a spot further along the beach and just round a bend. “That’s Standeven.”
“What the hell’s he doing sitting out there?”
“Who knows? He’s been behaving very oddly lately.”
“Doesn’t he always?”
“Not usually this much.”
“You know, Jode, this could be a golden opportunity for you to dump him.”
“What, leave him here?”
“Doesn’t he deserve it?”
“Well, yes. But… No, I can’t do it.”
“Really?”
“No. I mean, how could I inflict him on those innocent dwarfs?”
She laughed. “That’s what I like about you, Jode: you’ve got values. Even if they are wasted on a rat like Standeven.”
“You get to the band. I’ll go and fetch him.”
“Don’t be long. There are some who’d like to see you two left behind.”
“Would Stryke allow that?”
“Don’t look so alarmed. Of course he wouldn’t. Just don’t keep him waiting.”
“I’ll drag him there if I have to.”
“Right. Hey, before you go.” She leaned over and kissed him, then they dashed off in opposite directions.
Standeven was sitting by the shore, throwing pebbles into the waves.
Pepperdyne arrived, panting. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“The band are gathered up the beach there. I reckon they’re getting ready to leave.”
“So what?”
“
So what?
You want to be left behind?”
“Hardly seems to matter.”
“Are you insane? Stryke’s going to take us back home.”
“Maybe he’s going to
try
.”
“You’re scared of the transition, is that it?”
Standeven flared indignantly, “How dare you imply —”
“Oh, stow it. You’ve hardly proved yourself a hero on this little jaunt, have you? Cowardice’s a fair assumption.”
“It’s not that.”
Pepperdyne doubted it. “What, then?”
“Suppose he does get us back. We’d be no better off, Hammrik’s going to be on our trail again, and Stryke will still have
the instrumentalities.”
“That again, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“The stars. You’ve become obsessed with them. We can sort out the situation with Hammrik, if only by getting as far away from
him as possible, but you have to have the stars. Is there a limit to your greed?”
“It’s not that.”
“What, then?”
“I just think… I think they’d be better with me.”
“The instrumentalities would be better with you,” Pepperdyne repeated incredulously.
Standeven nodded.
“You have gone crazy.”
“It’s hard to explain. I —”
“Don’t even try. We’ve no time for your ravings. On your feet.”
He stayed where he was.
“If we don’t get to the band right now,” Pepperdyne warned him, “we’re going to spend the rest of our lives in this place.”
“Suits me. But then, you wouldn’t be with your little friend, would you?”
“What?”
“Coilla. Grown close, haven’t you? But you should have a care. The others don’t like it. Stryke’s certainly not keen. Do you
think he might have ambitions in that direction himself? After all —”
“Right, that does it.” Pepperdyne grabbed hold of his one-time master and bodily hauled him up.
“Take your filthy hands off me, you —”
Pepperdyne punched him in the solar plexus, hard. Standeven doubled, gasping. Pepperdyne took hold of his arms and began frog-marching
him along the beach.
Jup was just finishing the roll call when Coilla turned up. She was breathless.
“Where’ve you been?” Stryke demanded.
“Sorry,” she gasped. “Didn’t… know we… were supposed… to be here.”
“You would if you’d stuck around. Where were you?”
“Just… taking a walk.”
She got some odd looks for that.
“Picking wildflowers?” Haskeer mocked.
Coilla glared at him. “I was taking a last look at the island. That all right with you?”
Haskeer shrugged.
“You seen the humans?” Stryke asked her.
“Jode and Standeven?”
“Know of any others tagging along with us?”
“Oh, right. No. Er, yes.”
“Which is it?”
“I saw them back there. Just briefly. They’re coming.”
“They’d better be quick.”
“Here they are!” one of the grunts shouted.
The pair of humans were hurrying their way. Pepperdyne was no longer propelling Standeven, though the latter was limping and
looked rough.
“Sorry, Stryke,” Pepperdyne said.
“Let’s do this, shall we?” He took in their expectant, and in some cases apprehensive, faces as he dug out the instrumentalities
and the amulet.
“Try to get it right this time,” Haskeer muttered.
Stryke shot him a murderous glance. “I’ve been studying the markings for most of the day. It’ll be done right.” He started
to assemble the stars.
Everybody gathered round and watched him carefully slot together all but one of the artefacts.
“Right,” he said, “brace yourselves.”
Coilla and Pepperdyne exchanged a furtive look. Jup and Spurral linked hands. Dallog gave Wheam’s trembling shoulder a supportive
squeeze. Standeven wore an expression similar to a cornered rodent’s. Everybody tensed.
Stryke began easing the fifth and final star into place.
There were shouts and screams. Along the beach, dwarfs were scattering in panic. The source of their terror was a ship that
seemed to have appeared without any of the band noticing.
“Ah, fuck,” Haskeer cursed, “not again!”
Stryke stayed his hand.
“Do it!” Haskeer urged.
Stryke removed the fifth star.
“What you doing?”
“We’ve got company.” He nodded at the ship.
“You mean
they
have.”
Stryke glanced at the running dwarfs. “We don’t abandon comrades.”
“For the gods’ sake, Stryke!”
“We’re
not
leaving. Not ‘til we know what this is.”
“Recognise that ship?” Pepperdyne said. “It’s the same bunch that attacked us earlier.”
“Remember what they did to us last time, Stryke,” Coilla warned. “They’ve got strong magic.”
“Still,” he replied calmly, “don’t you want to know who they are?”
“No!” Haskeer protested.
“Just because you want to dodge a fight —” Coilla began.
Haskeer bridled. “Who you accusing of —”
“
Button it
,” Stryke growled. “This isn’t the time.” He put away the stars and stuffed the amulet back down his shirt.
Kalgeck arrived at a sprint. He made straight for Spurral. “Is it them? Have they come back?”
“The Gatherers?” she said. “No, it’s not them. You know it can’t be. But they’re as deadly in a different way. Get your kin
clear of the beach.”
“They’re already doing that. I want to fight.”
“Not this time, Kalgeck. We’re facing something too powerful.”
“Then why not use the trebuchets?” He pointed to the volcano.
“Of course!” Coilla exclaimed. “The catapults. Stryke?”
“It’s a good idea. Let’s get up there.”
“Catapults ain’t going to dent those bastards,” Haskeer grumbled.
“
Come on!
” Coilla yelled.
“You get to cover!” Spurral sternly instructed Kalgeck.
The band dashed for the path leading to the ledge on the mountainside. All but Standeven, who under cover of the uproar slunk
away.
When they got to the line of catapults they immediately began to prime them, working with an efficiency born of much experience.
“We don’t know how far their magic can reach,” Dallog said. “We could be sitting targets up here.”
“All weapons have a limit,” Stryke reminded him.
“Even magical ones?”
Stryke ignored that and continued barking orders.
The ship was at the shoreline when the first volley of heavy rocks was unleashed. All fell short, but close, making great
splashes that swamped the ship’s deck. The next battery was better aimed.
A rock crashed into the side of the ship, demolishing a large section of the rail. Seconds later another struck one of the
masts, neatly severing it. Timber and sails fell in a jumble.
Something like a slow lightning bolt issued from the ship. Purple and crackling, it flashed to one of the catapults and blew
it to bits. Orcs were thrown back by the impact.
“
Casualties?
” Stryke roared.
Dallog dashed around checking. “
Nothing bad!
” he yelled back.
The arms of several catapults went up and over, launching another cascade. They were all misses, some very near, others soaring
over the ship and splattering down on its far side.
This time there was a different response from the ship. What emanated from it was a sort of pattern, similar to ripples in
a pond, only travelling through the air. Like the lightning bolt it travelled fast, but not so rapidly that the band didn’t
have the chance to flatten themselves. The ripples, alternately black and glowing gold, wiped out all the catapults, shredding
them to splinters in a deafening cacophony.
“So much for being out of range,” Haskeer complained.
Coilla pointed. “Look! They’re coming ashore!”
A small flotilla of boats were heading for the beach.
“It’s fight-or-run time,” Stryke announced.
“We don’t do run,” Coilla reminded him.
“So let’s meet ‘em, shall we?”
He gave out a battle cry and they followed him down.
If the Wolverines thought they would engage the strangers conventionally they were soon disabused of the notion.
Even before the group of boats hit the beach their multiracial occupants were on the offensive. Variously coloured beams of
intense energy flared. Bolts struck the sand, throwing up clouds and gouging deep pits. They seemed to be shots designed to
get the firers’ eye in. The next round came a lot closer to the band.
On Stryke’s order they ran to shelter behind a scattering of large rocks occupying the space between beach and island proper.
The Wolverines replied with arrows, some flaming. They were sticks against a hurricane. Some of the bolts were obliterated
by piercing energy shafts. Others simply evaporated before they got near their targets. The orcs saw that this was because
an almost invisible energy shield of some sort shimmered around the beings wading ashore.
“We’re not touching ‘em,” Coilla said.
“At this rate we’ll be overrun,” Dallog warned. “What’ll we do, Stryke?”
“Maybe we’ll have better luck hand to hand with them.”
“Dream on,” Haskeer growled. “Those wizards are too powerful for steel to make any headway. Use the stars and get us out of
here.”
“No. Even if I wanted to, the band’s scattered all over the place. We’d leave half our strength behind.”
“Here they come!” Coilla shouted.
A good dozen of the attackers were drawing close. Pelli Madayar was at their head. Behind her tramped a colourful assortment
of elder races.
“There’s a couple of fucking goblins with ‘em!” Haskeer exclaimed.
“Should have known those bastards would have something to do with this,” Jup snapped.
The advancing party were still spraying the area with their magic beams.
“Ready to engage!” Stryke ordered.
Orcs drew second weapons, nocked bows and primed slingshots.
When they were no more than ten paces distant, Pelli Madayar held up her hand. The group stopped, as did the bombardment.
“We don’t have to do this, Stryke!” she called out.
Ignoring the others’ gestures to stay put, Stryke stepped out from behind the rock. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“We’re not your enemies, whatever you think. You know what we want. The instrumentalities, that’s all.”
“All?”
“You can save yourselves further grief very simply. Just hand them over.”
“Like hell we will.”
“You have no right to them.”
“And you do?”
“Morally… yes.”
“Fancy words from somebody who just tried to kill us.”
“We weren’t trying. Look, if you’re worried that giving up the artefacts means we’ll leave you stranded here, don’t be. Maybe
I can arrange to have your sent to your home world.”
“Maybe? That doesn’t sound too promising to me.”
“I have to consult a higher authority.”