Read Online Orcs by Stan Nicholls - Free Book Online Page B

General; what he holds is mine, and I will have it. I want the cylinder above all else. Bringing back the Wolverines for punishment is secondary.
Everything
is secondary to the cylinder. Including the lives of Stryke and his band.”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    “The lives of those sent after them are also expendable.”
    He hesitated before replying, “I understand, my lady.”
    “Be sure you do.” She made a series of swift, mysterious movements with her hands. “And lest you forget . . .”
    The General looked down. His uniform was smouldering. It caught fire. The blaze enveloped his jerkin, and instantly spread to his arms and legs. Intolerable heat scorched his limbs. Smoke billowed.
    Nostrils smarting from the odour of singeing, he beat at the flames. His palms stung and blistered. Fire leapt to his shoulders, neck, face. It completely engulfed him. His flesh blackened. Excruciating agony seared his body.
    He cried out.
    Jennesta’s hands moved again, in a perfunctory, almost dismissive motion.
    There was no fire. His clothes were not charred. The smell of burning had vanished, and there were no blisters on his hands. He felt no pain.
    Dumbly, he stared at her.
    “If you or your subordinates fail me,” she stated evenly, “that’s just a taste of what you’ll get.”
    Embarrassment, shame, and above all fear were stamped on his features. “Yes, Majesty,” he whispered.
    His reaction was gratifying. She enjoyed making a grown orc quake.
    “You have your orders,” she told him.
    He bowed stiffly and turned to the door.
    Once the General had left, Jennesta sighed. Making for a couch, she sank into its plump cushions. She was drained. With the natural energy sources so depleted, even casting a simple glamour took considerable effort. Though it was worth it to keep her underlings in line. But now she would have to replenish her powers. The other way.
    She remembered the elf servant.
    And decided that might be an agreeable way of doing it.
    In the corridor outside, Kysthan’s upright demeanour deserted him. His nerve was near doing the same. He slumped against a wall, eyes closed, slowly expelling the breath he’d been holding.
    It wouldn’t do for him to be seen this way. He fought to pull himself together.
    After a moment he straightened his shoulders and ran the back of his hand across his sweat-sheened brow. Then with measured deliberateness he resumed his short journey.
    The curving passageway took him to an adjacent anteroom. A young officer snapped to attention when he entered.
    “As you were, Captain,” the General told him.
    The officer relaxed, marginally.
    “You’re to leave immediately,” Kysthan said.
    “How long do we have, sir?”
    “Five days, maximum.”
    “That’s tight, General.”
    “It’s as long as she’ll allow. And let me make myself plain, Delorran. You’re to bring back that artifact. If you can return with the Wolverines too, that’s fine. But should they prove . . . uncooperative, she’ll settle for their heads. Given your past history with Stryke, I imagine you have no problem with that.”
    “None, sir. But . . .”
    “But what? You’ll outnumber them at least three to one. That seems like good odds to me. Or have I got the wrong orc for the job?”
    “
No
, sir,” Delorran quickly responded. “It’s just that the Wolverines’ kill tally is one of the highest of any of the warbands in the horde.”
    “I know that, Captain. It’s why I’ve assigned the best troopers we have to this mission.”
    “I’m not saying it’s going to be impossible, sir. Just difficult.”
    “Nobody promised you an easy ride.” He stared hard at the officer’s earnest face, and added, “Her Majesty’s position is that, as with the Wolverines, the loss rate of the troopers under your command is . . . without limit.”
    “Sir?”
    “Do I have to spell it out? You will spend as many lives on this mission as may be necessary.”
    “I see.” His tone was doubtful,