Legion Of Thunder Read online

  'Slaver scum,' Haskeer rumbled.

  One of the goblins delivered a hefty blow to his stomach with the shaft end of his mace. Haskeer doubled over and wheezed.

  'Have a care with the new merchandise,' Razatt-Kheage cautioned.

  'Bastard,' Stryke spat. 'Face me without these dolts and we'll settle this, orc to goblin.'

  Razatt-Kheage gave a snorting laugh. 'How charmingly primitive. Put aside thoughts of violence, my friend, I have somebody for you to meet. Come!' he called.

  Coilla appeared at the concealed door, Blaan holding her arms from behind. She reacted with surprise at seeing Stryke, Haskeer and the others.

  'Corporal,' Stryke said.

  'Captain,' she responded with admirable cool. 'Sorry you got involved.'

  'We're a band, we stick together.'

  She looked at Haskeer. 'We have a few things to work out, Sergeant.'

  'This is all very touching,' Razatt-Kheage interrupted, 'but make the most of it. You'll be saying your goodbyes soon enough.'

  'This one's cohorts are due back!' Coilla yelled, indicating Blaan.

  'Is Serapheim one of them?' Stryke said.

  'Serapheim? The storyteller?'

  'Be silent!' the slaver hissed. 'Be still,' he said in a calmer voice, 'and we will wait for them together.' Then he snapped something to his guards in goblin language.

  The henchlins moved forward to corral Stryke, Haskeer and the grunts in a corner. Almost as soon as it was done, there was a rap on the door. A goblin went to it, checked through the viewing hatch and opened up.

  Lekmann and Aulay swaggered in.

  'The rest of the rats,' Coilla said.

  Blaan jerked her arm, hard. 'Stow it!' he growled. She winced.

  Lekmann surveyed the scene. 'Now what have we got here? I heard you were a fixer, Razatt-Kheage, but this is something again. The rest of the bitch's band, yeah? Or some of them anyway.'

  'Yes,' the slaver confirmed, 'and worth a tidy amount to me.'

  'To you?' Aulay blurted. 'What is this, Micah?'

  'Sharp practise, I reckon.'

  'I hope you humans are not laying claim to my property,' Razatt-Kheage told them. That could be unfortunate.'

  Lekmann's face darkened. 'Now look, these orcs are the ones my partners and me had a deal to bring in.'

  'So what? Any agreement you have doesn't hold in Hecklowe. You didn't bring them here.'

  'I brought her, and that brought them. Don't that stand for something?'

  'Oi!' Haskeer roared. 'You're talking about us like we weren't here! We're not pieces of meat to be squabbled over!'

  The goblin who hit him before did it again. Once more, Haskeer doubled up.

  'Meat's just what you are, orc,' Lekmann sneered.

  When Haskeer straightened he aimed a cold, level stare at the goblin that struck him. That's twice, scumpouch. I'll be paying you back with interest.'

  The impassive-faced creature pulled back his club for another blow. Razatt-Kheage barked a curt order and the minion stayed his hand. In words all understood, he added, 'I'm sure we can come to a mutually profitable arrangement, human.'

  'That's more like it,' Lekmann replied, brightening a little. Though from what I've heard of these renegades, you ain't gonna have an easy time turning them into something fancy like bodyguards.'

  The slaver looked at the orcs. He studied their muscular, combat-hardened physiques, saw the scars they bore, regarded their murderous, steely-eyed expressions.

  'Perhaps they would be somewhat more of a challenge than the female,' he conceded.

  Stryke glanced at Coilla and thought how little the slaver knew.

  'We're promised gold for their heads,' Aulay interjected. 'From Queen Jennesta.'

  Razatt-Kheage thought about it. 'That may prove a less bothersome option.'

  Jup's group spent its time in a futile search. When his allotted three hours were almost spent, he took the grunts back to the square.

  They found Seafe waiting for them. He conveyed Stryke's message.

  'Let's hope it's not fool's gold,' the dwarf said. 'Come on.'

  If the passersby thought there was anything odd in a dwarf leading half a dozen orcs at double time through the streets of Hecklowe, they knew better than to show it. Fortunately no Watchers were encountered.

  There was a sticky moment when they reached the eastern quarter and Seafe was unsure of which passage to take. But he chose right and five minutes later they got to the alley with the white house. Nobody was about.

  Jup didn't like the look of it. 'Stryke said they'd be waiting for us here, right?'

  'Yes,' Seafe confirmed. 'If there was no trouble.'

  'Then we assume there has been.' To the whole group he added, 'We'll have to expect hostility in there. I reckon this is a time when weapons can be used, and to hell with Hecklowe law.'

  Keeping an eye on the street behind them, they pulled out their knives.

  Jup stretched a hand to the door and pushed. It didn't shift. He signalled for the others to join him. At his word they shouldered the door en masse three times with all the force they could muster. It cracked, splintered and gave. They tumbled in.

  And froze.

  Ahead of them were two humans armed with knives. To their right, Stryke, Haskeer and the other orcs lined a wall. Seven or eight goblins with maces, swords and short pikes guarded them. On a raised platform at the far end of the room stood a goblin in silken robes. To his left a mountainous human had Coilla in a neck lock.

  A goblin stepped from a corner and stood among the broken shards of the doorway, barring it with a spear, its barbed tip glinting.

  'Ah,' Jup said.

  Lekmann grinned. 'This just gets better and better.'

  Leering, Aulay chimed in with, 'A regular little reunion.'

  'Drop your weapons,' Razatt-Kheage hissed.

  Nobody moved.

  'Give it up,' Lekmann said. 'You're outnumbered and under-armed.'

  'I don't take orders from goblins, and certainly not from a stinking human.'

  'Do as you're told, freak!' Lekmann snarled.

  Jup looked to Stryke. 'Well, Captain?'

  'Do what you have to, Sergeant.'

  There was no mistaking Stryke's meaning.

  Jup swallowed. Sounding as casual as he could manage, he said, 'Fuck it, what's life without a bit of excitement?'

  15

  Jup flung his knife at the nearest guard, striking him hard just above the collarbone. It broke the stand-off, and the goblin's neck.

  Then all hell was let loose.

  One of the grunts quickly snatched up the fallen guard's spear and turned it on another goblin. Simultaneously, Stryke and Haskeer leapt forward and grappled with their captors. A desperate struggle for the weapons began.

  Jup's group rushed towards Lekmann and Aulay. They drew their blades and launched into a knife fight.

  The dwarf himself was blocked from joining it. Waving a sword, a henchlin barred his way. Dropping to avoid the swinging blade, Jup drove himself at the creature's legs and brought him down. They rolled on the floor, fighting for possession.

  Clutching the wrist of the goblin's sword arm, Jup repeatedly hammered it against the flagstones. But he wouldn't let go. Then a screaming guard collapsed beside them, its face ribboned by an orc dagger. Jup reached out and grabbed its sword. Still holding his opponent's wrist, he plunged the blade into its chest.

  He leapt to his feet, tossed one sword to a comrade and used the other to rejoin the fray.

  On the dais, Coilla was fighting like a wildcat to free herself of Blaan's hold. Nearby, Razatt-Kheage was yelling orders, interspersed with curses.

  Stryke had managed to get his foe in a bear hug with the goblin's arms pinned to his sides. Wriggling, unable to lift his sword, he was trying to rake the orc's legs with it. Stryke cooled him with a couple of head butts to the brow. Eyes rolling, he went down. Prising the sword from his hand, Stryke slashed his throat.

  He t
urned and saw Haskeer vying for a spear. It belonged to the guard who had hit him. As he passed, Stryke swiped at the goblin, slicing him in the side. The minor wound was distraction enough to throw the henchlin's poise. Stryke bowled off through the melee, making for the bounty hunters.

  Haskeer wasn't slow exploiting the upset. He managed to seize the spear's shaft. They tussled for it. Using all his strength, he twisted the spear and got its lethally barbed point under the goblin's chin. Then he pushed upward with all his might. The howling creature was skewered. Haskeer ripped loose the spear in a burst of gore and looked for a fresh victim.

  Still struggling in Blaan's arms, Coilla shouted something. The words were lost, but she seemed to be indicating a large chest on the dais.

  Lekmann and Aulay slashed wildly with their knives, trying to keep the orcs clear. The arrival of Jup and Breggin with swords had them backing off.

  Coilla's attempts to break loose of Blaan went on. She called out again. He began applying pressure to her neck and looked set to snap it.

  Haskeer rushed at the platform. A henchlin stepped out to stop him. The orc levelled his spear and impaled the goblin, the shaft piercing his stomach, and tossed him back into the scrum. Abandoning the spear, Haskeer hurtled on and leapt up to the dais. He landed a couple of feet away from Coilla and Blaan. Razatt-Kheage was near the other end of the platform, shrieking at his bodyguards. Haskeer ignored him.

  At a run, he landed a massive roundhouse blow to the side of Blaan's meaty head. The hulking human cried out in rage. Haskeer hit him again on the same spot, just as heavily. Bellowing, Blaan let go of Coilla and turned on the orc. They commenced swinging at each other in earnest.

  Coilla dived across the platform and collided with the wooden chest. She wrenched open its lid. It was filled with cutlasses, rapiers and scimitars. She seized a broadsword then overturned the chest, toppling it from the dais. It crashed to the floor, its weaponry spilling out.

  She hadn't noticed in her haste that it would land at Aulay's and Lekmann's backs. They spun and fell upon the weapons, scrabbling for swords. They weren't alone. Four or five orcs piled in too, anxious to swap daggers for lengthier blades. Twenty seconds of kicking and punching saw all of them rearmed.

  What had been a series of hand-to-hand brawls transformed into swordplay.

  'Bounty hunter!' Stryke yelled, skidding to a halt in front of Lekmann. 'Defend yourself!'

  'Come and get it, freak!'

  Jup and the grunts disengaged and quickly found other foes. Stryke and Lekmann squared off.

  The human went for a quick kill. He powered in, his sword a blur as he carved air with shocking rapidity. Stryke stood his ground and parried everything coming at him. Deflecting a half-dozen passes cleared the way for advancing a step or two. He went into offensive mode. Lekmann countered with equal fluidity, reclaiming the gained space.

  They fenced with total focus, oblivious to everything else, beating a steel rhythm with their blades.

  Jup had Aulay to himself. The human was a lesser swordsman than his partner, which was to say he was merely good. But he was fuelled with anger and desperation. That fed him fury while clouding his skill.

  The dwarf got off a weighty swing aimed at decapitation. Aulay ducked and returned a scything horizontal sweep meant for disembowelment. Jup sprang back and avoided it. Then he was in again and battering.

  All across the room orcs and goblins went at the business of murder with a will. Blades hacked spears, knives slashed at mail, swords met in a ringing din. A grunt hefted a table and smashed it across the back of a henchlin, allowing another trooper to dart in and deliver a stabbing. An orc slammed against a wall, impelled by a flesh wound to the arm from a goblin mace. He dodged the follow-up and brought his sword into play.

  On the platform, Haskeer and Blaan slugged it out in a furious bareknuckle contest. Each sponged up the other's blows and dealt their own. Neither would give.

  Blaan landed a piledriver punch to Haskeer's chin. 'Go down!' he hollered.

  The impact rocked Haskeer but didn't fell him. He responded with a crazed howl and a counterblow that sank his fist in the human's belly. Blaan staggered back a bit but otherwise seemed unaffected. Both of them were unused to anybody staying upright once they hit them. It stoked their wrath.

  Arms outstretched, moving surprisingly fast for his bulk, Blaan shot forward and encircled Haskeer with his powerful arms. They set to wrestling, faces strained, muscles bulging.

  Coilla thought about going for the slaver, but had a more longed-for target. She jumped down from the platform. A goblin came out of the melee and engaged her. They crossed swords, the goblin making up for subtlety by powering in with savage swipes. She countered every swing, batting aside the blade with ease. Then she wrong-footed him, shifted her centre of balance and sent her blade point into his eye. The shrieking henchlin dropped.

  She headed for the humans.

  Lekmann and Stryke were still matching knock for knock. That didn't interest Coilla. She wanted Aulay.

  He and Jup battled on, toe to toe, sweat flecking their brows.

  'Mine!' she yelled.

  Jup understood. He pulled back, spun, and connected with a goblin sword. That duel moved him clear.

  Coilla took his place and glared at Aulay. 'I've dreamed of this, you fucker!' she spat.

  'And I owe you, bitch!' He absently touched bandaged ear with wrapped finger.

  The jarring impact of their clashing blades rang out. Coilla dodged and weaved, looking for any chance to plant cold steel in his flesh. Aulay fought back with a bravado bordering on panic. The homicidal expression she wore was enough to sustain the energy of his defence. It made his passes wild and not entirely accurate; it also added an element of unpredictability to his style.

  For her part, Coilla poured all her resentment and hatred of the bounty hunters into her onslaught. Only blood would assuage the injury they'd done her. She pounded at the one-eyed human's sword with such frenzy it was a wonder it didn't snap. He was hard put to fend off the assault. His attacking stance began dissolving into pure self-preservation.

  Stryke had found that despite looking dissolute, Lekmann fenced like a demon. Theirs was a duel that demanded every ounce of concentration and strength.

  It was an old orc adage that the way an enemy fought betrayed the way they thought. So it befitted his nature that the bounty hunter used feints and deceitful moves as key techniques. Stryke was equally adept at duplicity and replied in kind. Though he would have far preferred the honesty of straightforward homicide.

  They circled, alert for any flaw in each other's guard, ready to kill. Lekmann vaulted in, whipping his blade at Stryke's head. Stryke swatted it aside and paid him back with a swipe to the chest. It was short. They kept up their lethal dance.

  Razatt-Kheage's outpourings of rage, frustration and orders continued, spouted in both his native tongue and universal. It stopped when a grunt on the floor below lashed out at his legs. The slaver jumped clear. In lieu of a weapon, he snatched up a bulky cloth sack and swung it down at the orc's head. He missed and nearly lost his balance. The grunt slashed the sack. A torrent of silver coins, the bounty hunters' payment, gushed out and bounced in all directions. Orcs and goblins slipped on them as they scattered.

  Dozens of coins rolled the way of Stryke and Lekmann. Crunching underfoot, they slowed but didn't stop their combat. Both were tiring now and the fight was near the point where stamina could be the deciding element. Not that either allowed it to lessen the blows they dealt.

  For all their strength, Haskeer and Blaan were hitting the same barrier. Haskeer knew he had to finish their bout quickly while he still had enough in reserve. He and the human were locked in a wrestling hold, Blaan's clasped hands in the small of Haskeer's back, one of Haskeer's arms trapped immovably. Drawing deep from his depleted well of energy, the orc slowly raised his free arm and repeatedly fisted the bounty hunter's head. Simultaneously he applied outward pressure with his snared arm.<
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  The strain showed on Blaan's contorted face. He was struggling to contain his foe. Haskeer needed just one more bit of leverage. He found it. With all his might he stamped his boot down on Blaan's foot, heel first. The human cried out. Haskeer stomped repeatedly. With a great outrush of breath, Blaan lost control and the hold was shattered.

  He half staggered, half limped backwards. Haskeer lurched the few paces separating them and delivered a solid kick to Blaan's crotch. The human gave an anguished high-pitched scream. Without pause, and giving it all he'd got, Haskeer landed a swift combination of punches—to the chin, to the stomach, then to the chin again. Blaan went down like a felled oak. The wooden platform trembled.

  Haskeer moved in and conferred a kicking on him, right foot, left foot, targeting any vulnerable spot that presented itself. Blaan's hand flashed out, grabbed one of Haskeer's legs, tugged and downed him. There was a scramble to be the first one up. They made it at the same time. Blaan closed the gap, his enormous face demonic with frenzy, and raised his ham fists. Bloodied and bruised, they were back to sparring.

  Coilla was making headway with Aulay. She sent in blows high and low, forcing him to skip and swerve to avoid them. But his movements were leaden-footed, his vigour ebbing. She sensed a kill was close.

  Jup and the grunts, working shoulder to shoulder, had thinned out the ranks of goblins. Just three or four were left, and they were retreating to the dais end of the room. When their backs were to the platform they put up a frenzied last stand. Two tried to break through the semicircle of approaching orcs. One swung his studded mace in a wide arc. A pair of orcs ducked under the flying weapon and shredded the henchlin's chest. Jup took care of the other. He dashed the sword from its grip and hacked into the creature's neck.

  But that had given the two remaining goblins their chance. They sprang on to the dais and rained blows down on the Wolverines' heads, preventing them from following. Razatt-Kheage sheltered behind them, raving encouragement.

  Lekmann and Aulay, likewise being forced back by their implacable orc opponents, knew the game was up.

  'Get out!' Lekmann bawled.