Read Online Orcs: Bad Blood by Stan Nicholls - Free Book Online Page A

Maras-Dantia when we were last there,” he said. “They’re going to be much worse now. Expect extreme
     hostility, and not just from the weather. This particularly applies to you new recruits, so stick by the buddy you’ve been
     assigned. As I’m assuming we’ll fetch up in Illex, in the far north, we can’t take horses; they couldn’t handle the conditions.
     Be prepared for a long, hard march south.” He weighed his next words carefully. “Last time, we had to face the Sluagh.” He
     bet more than a few of the band suppressed a shudder remembering the repellent demon race. “I don’t know if we’ll run into
     them this time. But we beat ’em once, and we can do it again if we have to. Are we all set, Sergeant?”
    “Ready and eager,” Haskeer replied.
    “If anybody’s having second thoughts about this mission, this is your last chance to pull out. They’ll be no dishonour in
     it.” He stared pointedly at Wheam. No one said anything. “Any questions?”
    Wheam raised a hand.
    “Yes?”
    “Going through this… portal thing. Will it hurt?”
    “Not as much as my boot up your arse,” Haskeer assured him.
    Laughter eased the band’s tension a little.
    Stryke checked that the crowd was held well back, then nodded.
    Haskeer barked an order. Brands were lit, and jerkins fastened.
    A rhythmic pounding started up. The onlookers were beating their spears against their shields in a traditional farewell for
     orcs off to war. There was some shouted encouragement, and a few cheers.
    Stryke led his band into the cave.
    It was cool and echoing inside.
    Coilla caught up with Wheam. “Going through’s unsettling,” she explained. “Just remember we’re all doing it together.”
    He looked pale. “Thanks,” he said, and walked on.
    Stryke overheard. “
Unsettling?
”
    “I couldn’t say terrifying, could I? He’s just a kid.”
    They reached the centre of the cave, and Stryke had them all gather round. He studied the amulet by the light of the brands.
     Next, he took out the stars and began manipulating them.
    For a clammy moment, he thought he couldn’t do it. There seemed no sense in the way they linked to each other. He started
     to fumble and grow confused.
    Then four stars slotted together smoothly, in quick succession, and he could see exactly where the final one should go.
    “Brace yourselves,” he warned, pushing it into place.
    They fell, plunging down a shaft made of light
.
    Sinuous, pulsating, never ending. Beyond its translucent walls was blue velvet, smothered with stars
.
    They dropped ever faster. The starscape melted into a blur of rushing colours
.
    Transient images flashed by. Fleeting glimpses of perplexing other-wheres
.
    There were sounds. An inexplicable, discordant, thunderous cacophony
.
    It lasted an eternity
.
    Then a black abyss swallowed them
.
    Stryke opened his eyes.
    He felt like he’d taken a beating, and his head throbbed murderously.
    Getting to his knees, it took him a moment to focus on his surroundings. But he didn’t see what he expected.
    There was no snow or ice, though it was cold. The grim landscape seemed gripped by deepest winter. Trees were leafless. The
     grass was brown and patchy, and much of the foliage wasn’t just dormant, but dead. Black clouds dominated the sky. It was
     in total contrast to the balmy climate they’d just left.
    He climbed to his feet.
    The rest of the band was scattered around him. Some were on the ground, still dazed, and several were groaning. Others, recovering
     more quickly, were already standing.
    “Everybody all right?” he called.
    “Most of us,” Haskeer said. He scornfully jerked a thumb at Wheam, who was being sick against a rock, with Dallog in attendance.
    Coilla and Haskeer went to Stryke. They looked shaken after the transference, but rode it well.
    “This isn’t Illex,” Haskeer pronounced.
    “You don’t say,” Stryke told him.
    “But it
is
Maras-Dantia,” Coilla said. “I recognise some of the