Stan Nicholls: Army of Shadows

"Am I glad to see you, Captain," Wheam panted.

"I'm going to get you out of here. Stay close."

Before they could move, Coilla arrived.

"I thought I told you — "

"You need me," she said. "Look around. Somebody's got to cover your back."

"All right. Let's go."

It was getting harder to steer a way that didn't have troops in it. So they were compelled to carve a path. But still the increasing opposition made them take a different route back. It took them past a large outcropping of rock.

It was only very shortly after what happened next that Stryke started to think they'd been deliberately herded that way.

Jennesta stepped out from behind the rock.

The trio stopped in their tracks.

"Run, Wheam!" Coilla pleaded. "Get out of here!"

The youth fled.

Jennesta laughed, disturbingly. "It seems not all orcs are courageous."

Stryke and Coilla rushed her as one, their blades levelled.

She made a swift hand gesture. The pair instantly froze in their tracks, rigid as statues.

Strangely, the fighting seemed to have frozen too. Or at least the sound and sight of it had. It was either more of Jennesta's magic, or her followers had fallen back, reinforcing the suspicion that it had been a setup.

"Now that I've got you nicely calmed," Jennesta said, "we can have a civilised conversation."

Stryke and Coilla were helpless. They struggled to move or make a sound but couldn't.

"When I say conversation, of course, that doesn't imply that you'll be taking part in it. Actually, Stryke, I've got someone here who knows you. Or did." She snapped her fingers loudly.

Two zombies lumbered into sight. They walked on either side of somebody.

It was Thirzarr.

Stryke's mate showed no sign of recognising him. She looked healthy enough, apart from a few bruises, but seemed to be in a light trance or coma.

"Surprised?" Jennesta mocked. "I thought you might be. She isn't fully undead, like my servants here. She's… let us say she's in the stage before that, and could go either way. A zombie or back to how she was. You can decide which."

For all his torment, Stryke couldn't break through her enchantment.

"My proposition is straightforward," she informed him. "I'll free your mate if you and your band surrender yourselves to me. Just the orcs; I've no need for the other types you have hanging on. Do that, Stryke, and you'll not only free Thirzarr, you'll also be part of a wonderful enterprise. The Wolverines will form the nucleus of my zombie orc army. Quite a combination, yes? Unquestioning obedience coupled with your peerless fighting skills and robust fitness. A great improvement on the present sort." She indicated her zombie slaves with a casual flick of the hand. "Think of it, Stryke. You'll be able to fight and conquer to your black heart's content. Not just in one world, but many. All of them. With the instrumentalities turned out on a mass scale… Oh, yes. That's how I come to be here. I copied yours. And now I know I have the means perfected, I can start to build an army of totally compliant orcs to conquer… well, everywhere really. Anyway, that's the proposition. I'm going to sever the bonds holding you now so you can give your answer. One move and you'll go back to helplessness." She gestured with her hands again.

Stryke thawed. Despite his rage and anguish he fought back the urge to leap for her throat. He knew it would be futile, and he needed to bide his time. If he had any. He kept his bile for words. "You stinking bitch! What have you done to Thirzarr? And what about our hatchlings? Where are they?"

"You don't expect me to tell you, do you? Your brats are not the issue. Your mate or your band. What's your answer?"

"I can't agree, not on behalf of the others. They fought hard for their freedom. I can't be the one to make them forfeit it."

"Then your mate becomes a mindless slave. Perhaps you'd like a mindless slave for a mate. I could see it might have some advantages. Is that it, Stryke?"

"If you'd only face me one to one, in a fair — "

She burst out laughing. "Oh, please. As if I'm going to do that. But perhaps there's another way of resolving this."

"How?"

"If you won't capitulate, then settle it in a way more to your liking. In combat. If my champion wins, you succumb. Well, you'll be dead actually, but you would have conceded defeat. You win, you have your mate back, good as new."

Coilla struggled against her invisible bonds futilely.

"Who's your champion?" Stryke said.

"She's standing right next to me."

" Thirzarr? I won't do it. She wouldn't either."

"Really?" Jennesta waved a hand at Thirzarr.

She seemed to come alive, yet not quite.

"Fight him," Jennesta ordered, "to the death." She handed Thirzarr a sword.

She snatched it and immediately made for Stryke. He stood stupefied for a second, not believing his eyes. Then he had to move fast to evade her singing blade.

Stryke twisted and turned to avoid the rain of blows she sent his way. He only reluctantly raised his own sword when he had no other way of fending her off. Every move he made was defensive. Her every stroke was calculated to kill.

It was getting desperate. Stryke was being driven to up the ante in the face of her inexhaustible attack. He dreaded his instincts taking over and, Thirzarr or not, his striking back in kind.

Suddenly Wheam reappeared. He popped from behind the outcropping. Of all the things he might have done next, Stryke would never have guessed the one he chose.

He threw a rock at Jennesta. It struck her on the shoulder and she cried out, more in injured pride than in hurt.

The unexpectedness of the attack broke her concentration and whatever mental power she exercised to maintain her enchantments.

Coilla unfroze. Thirzarr stopped, lowered her arms and dropped the sword. She seemed to have re-entered the state she had arrived in.

As Jennesta raged, and presumably struggled to re-establish her hold, Coilla grabbed Stryke and began pulling him away. He struggled at first, wanting to go to Thirzarr, but even in his frenzy he saw that was hopeless. He let Coilla and Wheam guide him.

They ran. Something like a thunderbolt followed them, but boomed harmlessly overhead.

The fighting had died down considerably, and although they faced opposition, which fell to Coilla to deal with, they got back to the others unscathed.

What had happened was quickly relayed to the band. Most took the news in dumb silence.

Coilla said, "Take us to Ceragan, Stryke. We'll raise an army and come back here to kick Jennesta's arse so hard — "

"We don't know if the stars would get us there. But there's worse."

"How could it be worse?" She had an icy churning in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't you see? Jennesta must have been there, to get Thirzarr. And Thirzarr wouldn't have come willingly. No orc would. They would have fought. It wouldn't be beyond Jennesta to wipe out every orc there if she could manage it. Coilla, we don't even know if Ceragan still exists."