The Apples conceded initiative and let the orcs come onto them. Only six had the room to get in a strike. If the shieldwall withstood that, they’d have an advantage. Cap had been training them for a confrontation just like this. Wilson hoped they were ready.

  Each orc in the front rank swung with their bludgeoning weapon, be it mace, hammer, or club. It was bad luck, really, that the two best strikes came against two of the weaker links in the shieldwall. The damage could have been worse: The Hoffmeister lost three hit points, and Izil only one; though that was enough for the Alinko to also lose an action point.

  But now, The Apples could interrupt with a free spear strike. Cap and The Hoffmeister scored hits. Breaker burst through the orc’s chest and came out the other side. The greenskin slid off the blade onto the ground, bleeding out. The Hoffmeister also struck well, taking off a very useful twelve hit points.

  Four of the orcs were left with four action points, and Wilson dreaded what came next.

  Izil was reduced to 12 hit points; Usa to 18. Ashlyn took four strong hits but only went down to 16, a testament to the new armour Stiff had given her. Pecs also came down to 16, while the wounded orc failed to land a blow on The Hoffmeister.

  Overall, Wilson was happy with the result. The shieldwall had resisted, and now it was The Apples’ turn.

  Cap, uninjured so far, went first. With a command of ‘fall back,’ to the injured Izil, he killed the Alinko's orc opponent with his first action. He had no option now but to advance on the second row of orcs. By the end of his turn, he’d either killed or incapacitated another four.

  One of The Explorer’s three arrows buried itself in an orc stood amongst the pack awaiting their turn.

  Ashlyn’s spear strike lodged into her opponent, causing two damage. Either out of necessity or choice, she left it and drew Greenblade. A miss and a hit, and her opponent hit the ground. With her final action she took a swing at Usa’s opponent, but didn’t get close.

  Usa’s three hits were enough to kill it, however.

  Wilson used the gap made by Cap’s advance to move past the defensive line and follow him into the orc pack. His first axe strikes were misses, but his next two both hit, scoring him his first kill. By the end of his turn, he was spattered with blood and gore, and he’d taken his kills to three.

  Izil, whose immediate opponent had been killed by Cap, threw his spear at the nearest orc. It was a fine shot, dealing 11 damage. Following Cap’s order, he fell back next to Murder, drawing his sword as he went.

  The Hoffmeister caught his wounded opponent on his second action, a strong enough blow to send it to the ground. His final two strikes were enough to fell Pecs’ opponent and score his first kill.

  With no orcs in range, Pecs had a difficult choice to make. If he left, the four man shieldwall would be broken. He chose to stay, preparing the Spear of Riposte for a counter strike.

  Fortune followed Wilson’s path and took Blueblade against the orcs. The sword bit at the first time of asking, leaving its victim barely able to stand on four hit points. He caught it again with his last swing, cutting so hard that the orc’s arm landed several feet from the rest of its body.

  They’d done a fine job. Heroic, some might say. But there were still eleven of the twenty-five orcs left, all but two with full health. That gave them five action points apiece.

  Wilson knew not all The Apples would withstand what was to come.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  ***

  Stricken had an idea to return to the smithy and let the smith know exactly what he thought of being chained up. Another option was to climb up to the roof of the inn and let that long haired merc know what he thought of people hiding on roofs, shooting at people.

  Undecided, he passed between the two buildings, glancing through a window of the inn.

  And stopped dead.

  What was her name again? Mila? Yes.

  The bitch who had led him on, then rejected him.

  Oh, this would be infinitely more fun than those other ideas.

  He turned onto Eisenberg’s street. A line of Stiff’s mercs assembled against the two score orcs. He didn’t like their chances. But he was grateful. They were all too busy to notice him walk up behind them and slip past into the inn.

  It took Mila a while to notice him. He stood leering at her.

  He enjoyed the look of fear; that turned to defiance. He smiled at the dagger that appeared in her hand.

  ‘I’ll kill you,’ she said.

  A thrill of anticipation coursed through him. He would enjoy taking that defiance from her.

  He took his first steps towards her. So intent was he on his prey, that he failed to notice the shadow moving before it was too late.

  ***

  The heat pouring from the church forced Christoph to move to the far side of the last house in the village. From here, he peered around to get a look at Queen Brid. She still had fifteen warriors defending her—her shield-carrying elite guard.

  There were too many to get through. He had to do something.

  From the corner of the house, he aimed at the queen. The arrow whistled past her. He ducked back behind the house.

  Not quick enough. There was shouting, and then the sound of half a dozen orc warriors heading for his position. He’d been seen. He turned, and ran.

  ***

  Earlier

  Lothar’s second wild card arrived not long after he’d had Stricken chained up. Bringing Rosalind here was a different kind of risk to Stricken. He was scared for an entirely separate set of reasons.

  He took her to his room in The Pig and Iron, walking through the common room where Cap was giving The Apples his final pep talk.

  ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘I very nearly didn’t, you know.’

  ‘But you don’t want The Apples to fail.’

  She looked at him, his choice of words not lost on her. ‘I don’t want The Apples to fail, Lothar. And I don’t want you to die, either.’

  ‘Good.’ He retrieved the staff he had taken from Redblade’s chest. ‘You called this a Staff of Hither-Thither. It can transport people, you told me?’

  ‘Yes. It creates a portal, connecting one location to another.’

  ‘I think you can use this, Rosalind.’

  She smiled at him. ‘You’re a clever man, Lothar Sauer. What gave me away?’

  ‘I didn’t know for sure. A few things made me suspect. I understand why you would want to keep your powers a secret. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Honestly, I feel nothing but relief that you worked it out. I kept it from you, Lothar. But I haven’t been lying about us, if that’s what you thought.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to hear that.’ He offered her the staff. ‘Well?’

  She took it from him. ‘What do you want done?’

  ‘There are about a hundred orcs coming to Eisenberg. With them are another hundred goblins, some of them riding wargs. We can’t defeat all of them.’

  Rosalind studied him, her face serious. ‘You want to detach the goblins.’

  ‘I think it’s our only chance. The two sides fought one another recently. The goblins were forced to submit to Brid. Perhaps they’re not as loyal as she would hope. Send me to them, and I’ll try to sweet talk them. If they try to kill me, I can jump back through the portal.’

  ‘It doesn’t quite work like that, Lothar. I would have to go with you.’

  ‘Alright. Then just send me, and I’ll take my chances.’

  ‘No. If you’re intent on doing this, I’m coming too.’

  ‘That’s not why I brought you here, Rosalind. It’s not what I wanted.’

  ‘I know.’ She smiled at him. ‘But I really don’t want The Apples to fail. So we’ll do it together, and whatever will be, will be.’