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

landmarks. I reckon we’re near the lip of the Great Plains, not far
     from Bevis.”
    “You could be right,” Stryke agreed. “Looks like the stars don’t put us down in exactly the same place each time.” He realised
     he was still clutching them, and began dismantling.
    “At least it cuts the amount of marching we’ll have to do.”
    “And with any luck we won’t have to go to Illex next time we use them.” He was stuffing the instrumentalities into his belt
     pouch. “But I’m sorry we didn’t bring those horses.”
    “It’s not morning here,” Haskeer decided.
    Coilla sighed. “You’re an expert in stating the obvious now, are you?”
    It looked to be late afternoon, going on early evening.
    “And the season’s wrong,” Haskeer added.
    “I’m not so sure about that,” Stryke said. “This could be what passes for summer in Maras-Dantia these days.”
    Coilla stared at the terrain. “Things have got that bad?”
    “It was heading that way when we left, so why not?”
    Haskeer frowned. “What’ll we do? Camp ’til first light?”
    “I say march on,” Coilla suggested. “I mean, we only got up about two hours ago. It’s not as though we need the rest.”
    Stryke nodded. “Makes sense. If we are where you think, Coilla, we need to bear south-west. It’s still a hell of a march to
     Quatt, but not near as far as we reckoned on.”
    “Maybe we can rustle up some transport on the way.”
    “I’m counting on it. All right, let’s get ’em organised. Haskeer, see how the new intake are faring; Coilla, secure the area.
     Get some lookouts posted.”
    Coilla went to pick sentries. Haskeer walked over to Dallog and Wheam.
    The band’s banner thrust into the ground beside him, the aged corporal was offering the young recruit a drink from his canteen.
     Wheam took it with trembling hands.
    “Why the idling?” Haskeer snapped.
    “He was shaken by the crossing,” Dallog explained.
    “He can speak for himself.” Haskeer turned his glare on Wheam. “
Well?
”
    The youth flinched. “Going through that… thing… really… unsettled me.”
    “Oh, what a shame. Would you like your daddy?”
    “You don’t have to be so —”
    “
This is no fucking picnic! We’re in the field now! Get a grip!
”
    “Go easy, Haskeer,” Dallog advised.
    “The day I need
your
advice,” Haskeer thundered, “is the day they can take me out and cut my throat. And it’s
Sergeant
to you.
Both
of you.”
    “I’m only doing my job, Sergeant.”
    “You’re nurse-maiding him.”
    “Just cutting the boy some slack. He doesn’t know the ropes.”
    “You and him both. You’ve never been on a mission, and you don’t know this band.”
    “Maybe not. But I know orcs, Sergeant, and I know how to mend ’em.”
    “Only been one Wolverine could do that, and you ain’t him.”
    “I’m sure Alfray was a —”
    “You’re not fit to use his name, Dallog. Nobody matches Alfray.”
    “Pity you were so careless with him then.”
    Haskeer’s face darkened dangerously. “What’d you say?”
    “Things change. Live with it. Sergeant.”
    Wheam gaped at them.
    “Being old don’t excuse you from a beating,” Haskeer growled, making fists.
    “Whenever you want to try. But maybe this isn’t a good time.”
    “Now you’re telling me what’s what?”
    “I meant we shouldn’t brawl in front of the band.”
    “Why not?” Haskeer said, moving in on him. “Let ’em see me knock some respect into you.”
    Somebody was shouting. Others took it up.
    “Er, Sergeant…” Wheam pointed.
    Haskeer stopped and turned.
    A group of riders could be seen, moving their way across the sward. It was hard to gauge their number.
    “We’ll settle this later,” he promised Dallog.
    “What’s happening, Sergeant?” Wheam asked. “Who are they?”
    “I doubt they’re a welcome party. Be ready to account for yourselves. And try not to shame the band by dying badly.” He left
     Wheam looking terrified.
    By the time