Orcs
Copyright © 2004 by Stan Nicholls
(
Bodyguard of Lightning
© 1999;
Legion of Thunder
© 1999;
Warriors of the Tempest
© 2000;
The Taking
© 2000, first appeared in
Swords Against the Millennium
, ed. Michael Chinn, published by Alchemy Press)
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Orbit
Hachette Book Group, USA
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our Web site at
www.HachetteBookGroupUSA.com
.
First eBook Edition: September 2008
ISBN: 978-0-316-04284-0
Contents
Book 1: Bodyguard of Lightning
Book 3: Warriors of the Tempest
Praise for ORCS
“Stan Nicholls takes his well-deserved place beside Robert Jordan and George R. R. Martin as a modern star of fantasy.”
—
The Independent
“Incorporating wall-to-wall action with undercurrents of dark humor,
Bodyguard of Lightning
is a gritty, fast-paced novel with a neat twist. The heroes are orcs—though you wouldn’t want to meet any of them on a dark night!”
—David Gemmell
“Weirdly charming, fast-moving, and freaky,
Bodyguard of Lightning
is the most fun you’re ever likely to have with a warband of orcs. Remember, buy now or beg for mercy later.”
—Tad Williams
“A neat idea and Stan Nicholls pulls it off with great panache . . . enough weird sex to keep the tabloids outraged for weeks. You’ll never feel the same about
Lord of the Rings
.”
—Jon Courtenay Grimwood,
SFX
“A warning: if you don’t wish to become addicted to the most impressive new fantasy sequence in many a moon, you should avoid
Bodyguard of Lightning
.”
—Genre Hotline/LineOne Science Fiction Zone
“Stan Nicholls tries to correct the bad press authors such as Tolkien have given to orcs. Nicholls tells his tale briskly and entertainingly. . . . If you like lots of hacking and slashing,
Bodyguard of Lightning
is for you!”
—
Starburst
“
Bodyguard of Lightning
is naturally full of fighting, blood-letting, and double-crossing. Nicholls has created a fast-paced adventure.”
—
The Mentor
“In the fantasy field, Stan Nicholls’s
Legion of Thunder
demonstrates a truly coruscating imagination in its outrageous narrative.”
—
Publishing News
Books of the Year 1999
“Nicholls knows how to describe a battle in gritty detail, in such a way that it grabs your interest and yet still appears as unglamorous and unromantic as it should. A strange tale of magic, fantastic creatures, and mythical elder races that warps your expectations.”
—The SF Site
“
Warriors of the Tempest
is, above all, a wonderful piece of storytelling; fast-paced with plenty of hairpin twists, crammed with loads of juicy battles and properly bad baddies, racing towards a carefully set up conclusion that’s both exciting and genuinely moving. . . . Underlying all the fun and games are a core of skillfully drawn, fully realized characters who engage your sympathy from the start and never let go. . . . Sweet and sour orc, a feast for the most jaded fantasy-lover’s palate.”
—Tom Holt,
SFX
magazine
“The prose flows smoothly and the story is exciting.”
—
Science Fiction Chronicle
“Breathless and ruthless, menacing and fun. Easy to read and totally engaging.”
—The Alien Online
“Stan Nicholls’s excellent
Orcs
sequence . . . is a welcome counterblast to the anti-orc onslaught due with the film launch of
The Lord of the Rings
.”
—
The Guardian
“Now’s your chance to catch up with one of the most unusual writers in the genre. And it’s particularly wonderful not to have to put your brain to bed while reading Nicholls —unlike many of his writing peers, there’s a real intelligence always at work here. Not that we don’t get the requisite rip-roaring action and colorful world-building—along with some cutting humor.”
—Tiscali SF Zone
“It is an excellent adventure read. A good adventure story with plenty of action, humorous and well crafted. Thoroughly recommended.”
—SF Crowsnest
B
Y
S
TAN
N
ICHOLLS
“Gladiators” Game Book No. 1
Tom and Jerry: The Movie
Cool Zool
Strange Invaders
Spider-man: The Hobgoblin
The Nightshade Chronicles
The Book of Shadows
Shadow of the Sorcerer
A Gathering of Shadows
Fade to Black
Dark Skies: The Awakening
Orcs
The Dreamtime Trilogy
The Covenant Rising
The Righteous Blade
The Diamond Isle
Nonfiction
Wordsmiths of Wonder: Fifty Interviews with Writers of the Fantastic
Ken and Me
Gerry Anderson: The Authorized Biography
Graphic novels (as adaptor)
David Gemmell’s
Legend
David Gemmell’s
Wolf in Shadow
The
Orcs
omnibus is dedicated to
Marianne Gay and Nick Fifer, for being happy,
and for being a loving inspiration.
BODYGUARD OF LIGHTNING
This is, of course, for Anne and Marianne.
Oh we’ll rant and we’ll roar like true orcish warriors
We’ll rant and we’ll roar for all that we be
We’ll march back from yonder all laden with plunder
Oh what treasures, what pleasures, then you will see
Farewell and good-bye to you fair orcish ladies
Farewell and good-bye to you ladies of hame
We’ve taken a liking to mayhem and fighting
Our blades we will bring down and sharpen again
We’ll burn and we’ll plunder and then we will sunder
Their heads from their necks and their gold from their purse
We’ll meet them in battle and kill them like cattle
We’ll drink their beer dry while the poor bastards curse
The first land we sighted we saw a tall spire
We crept up in darkness and set it aflame
We took silver and chalice for we bore them such malice
And we hope that next year they won’t be there again
We found a fat farmer, we found his fair daughter
We tickled him up with the point of a knife
He babbled and gabbled, gave us gold without haggle
The girl ran off screaming so we roasted his wife
Now let every orc warrior take up his full tankard
Now let every orc warrior drink deep of strong ale
Our Wolverines’ spearpoints will skewer ’em like pork joints
Far richer and fatter the orcs will prevail!
Traditional warband marching song
Stryke couldn’t see the ground for corpses.
He was deafened by screams and clashing steel. Despite the cold, sweat stung his eyes. His muscles burned and his body ached. Blood, mud and splashed brains flecked his jerkin. And now two more of the loathsome, soft pink creatures were moving in on him with murder in their eyes.
He savoured the joy.
His footing unsure, he stumbled and almost fell, pure instinct bringing up his sword to meet the first swinging blade. The impact jarred but checked the blow. He nimbly retreated a pace, dropped into a half crouch and lunged forward again, below his opponent’s guard. The sword rammed into the enemy’s stomach. Stryke quickly raked it upward, deep and hard, until it struck a rib, tumbling guts. The creature went down, a stupefied expression on its face.
There was no time to relish the kill. The second attacker was on him, clutching a two-handed broadsword, its glinting tip just beyond the limit of Stryke’s reach. Mindful of its fellow’s fate, this one was more cautious. Stryke went on the offensive, engaging his assailant’s blade with a rain of aggressive swipes. They parried and thrusted, moving in a slow, cumbersome dance, their boots seeking purchase on bodies of friend and foe alike.
Stryke’s weapon was better suited to fencing. The size and weight of the creature’s broadsword made it awkward to use in close combat. Designed for hacking, it needed to be swung in a wider arc. After several passes the creature strained with effort, huffing clouds of icy breath. Stryke kept harrying from a distance, awaiting his chance.
In desperation, the creature lurched toward him, its sword slashing at his face. It missed, but came close enough for him to feel the displaced air. Momentum carried the stroke on, lifting the creature’s arms high and leaving its chest unprotected. Stryke’s blade found its heart, triggering a scarlet eruption. The creature spiralled into the trampling mêlée.
Glancing down the hill, Stryke could make out the Wolverines, embroiled in the greater battle on the plain below.
He returned to the slaughter.
Coilla looked up and saw Stryke on the hill above, not far from the walls of the settlement, savagely laying into a group of defenders.
She cursed his damned impatience.
But for the moment their leader would have to look after himself. The warband had some serious resistance to overcome before they could get to him.
Here in the boiling cauldron of the main battlefield, bloody conflict stretched out on every side. A crushing mob of fighting troops and shying mounts churned to pulp what had been fields of crops just hours before. The cacophonous, roaring din was endless, the tart aroma of death soured the back of her throat.