Orcs: Army of Shadows

Book 2: Orcs

by Stan Nicholls

Genres: Epic Fantasy; Literary Fiction

Synopsis

A sojourn in their idyllic homeworld has left Stryke and the Wolverines lacking purpose. So when an opportunity for bloodletting appears, Stryke seizes it. Utilizing mysterious artifacts, the Wolverines are transported to Acurial, a world where the indigenous Orc population is cruelly subjugated by human invaders.



Upon their arrival, Stryke's band joins with Acurial's emerging resistance movement. As the revolution gathers pace, the Wolverines are forced to embark on a quest that will see Stryke and his comrades pursued by both their most ruthless enemy and a mysterious troop hell-bent on their destruction.

Release date: October 21, 2009

Publisher: Orbit

Print pages: 320

Sample

“With grand-scale world building, labyrinthine plotlines, extensive backstory, and pedal-to-the-metal action, Nicholls captures adventure fantasy at its very best.”

—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“Stan Nicholls takes his well-deserved place beside Robert Jordan and George R. R. Martin as a modern star of fantasy.”

—The Independent

“Incorporating wall-to-wall action with undercurrents of dark humor, Bodyguard of Lightning is a gritty, fast-paced novel with a neat twist. The heroes are orcs —though you wouldn’t want to meet any of them on a dark night!”

—David Gemmell

“Weirdly charming, fast-moving and freaky, Bodyguard of Lightning is the most fun you’re ever likely to have with a warband of orcs. Remember, buy now or beg for mercy later.”

—Tad Williams

“A neat idea and Stan Nicholls pulls it off with great panache…. Enough weird sex to keep the tabloids outraged for weeks. You’ll never feel the same about Lord of the Rings.”

—Jon Courtenay Grimwood, SFX

“A warning: if you don’t wish to become addicted to the most impressive new fantasy sequence in many a moon, you should avoid Bodyguard of Lightning.”

—Genre Hotline/LineOne Science Fiction Zone

“Stan Nicholls tries to correct the bad press authors such as Tolkien have given to orcs. Nicholls tells his tale briskly and entertainingly…. If you like lots of hacking and slashing, Bodyguard of Lightning is for you!”

—Starburst

“Bodyguard of Lightning is naturally full of fighting, blood-letting and double-crossing. Nicholls has created a fast-paced adventure.”

—The Mentor

“In the fantasy field, Stan Nicholls’s Legion of Thunder demonstrates a truly coruscating imagination in its outrageous narrative.”

—Publishing News Books of the Year 1999

“Nicholls knows how to describe a battle in gritty detail, in such a way that it grabs your interest and yet still appears as unglamorous and unromantic as it should. A strange tale of magic, fantastic creatures, and mythical elder races that warps your expectations.”

—The SF Site

“Warriors of the Tempest is, above all, a wonderful piece of storytelling: fast-paced with plenty of hairpin twists, crammed with loads of juicy battles and properly bad baddies, racing towards a carefully set-up conclusion that’s both exciting and genuinely moving…. Underlying all the fun and games are a core of skillfully drawn, fully realized characters who engage your sympathy from the start and never let go…. Sweet and sour orc, a feast for the most jaded fantasy-lover’s palate.”

—Tom Holt, SFX magazine

“The prose flows smoothly and the story is exciting.”

—Science Fiction Chronicle

“Breathless and ruthless, menacing and fun. Easy to read and totally engaging.”

—The Alien Online

“Stan Nicholls’s excellent Orcs sequence… is a welcome counterblast to the anti-orc onslaught due with the film launch of The Lord of the Rings.”

—The Guardian

“Now’s your chance to catch up with one of the most unusual writers in the genre. And it’s particularly wonderful not to have to put your brain to bed while reading Nicholls —unlike many of his writing peers, there’s a real intelligence always at work here. Not that we don’t get the requisite rip-roaring action and colorful worldbuilding —along with some cutting humor.”

—Tiscali SF Zone

“It is an excellent adventure read. A good adventure story with plenty of action, humorous and well-crafted. Thoroughly recommended.”

—SF Crowsnest

After escaping Maras-Dantia, their chaotic birthplace, the survivors of the orc warband the Wolverines settled in Ceragan, a world populated solely by their own kind. Stryke, the band’s leader, took native female Thirzarr as his mate, siring two male hatchlings. But by the time the oldest of Stryke’s offspring was four, the band had grown restless with their bucolic life.

While hunting, Stryke and Wolverine sergeant Haskeer found themselves near the cave where the warband had arrived in Ceragan, and were shocked when an unknown human emerged. But the man was mortally wounded, a dagger jutting from his back.

A search of the corpse turned up an amulet bearing strange markings, and a gemstone.

The magical stone issued a message from Tentarr Arngrim, known to the Wolverines as Serapheim, the wizard who had made possible their escape from Maras-Dantia. It included images of orcs in another world being cruelly subjugated by humans, and to Stryke’s and Haskeer’s dismay they appeared not to be fighting back. Even more shocking, the architect of their oppression was shown to be Serapheim’s malevolent daughter, sorceress queen Jennesta, the warband’s old enemy and once their ruler.

Arngrim’s likeness asserted that it was in the Wolverines’ power to help these fellow orcs and exact revenge on Jennesta. To do so they would have to use the five mysterious artefacts called instrumentalities —known to the orcs as stars —which Serapheim had created and the warband still possessed. The instrumentalities allowed dimension-hopping, and perhaps more, and were the means by which the Wolverines had been transported to Ceragan. Had someone not murdered him, Serapheim’s messenger would have acted as the band’s guide.

Wanting to accept the challenge, despite his suspicion of Arngrim’s motives, Stryke guessed that the symbols on the amulet showed how the stars should be fitted together in order to enable travel to other worlds. Gathering the scattered members of the Wolverines, he found they were as keen on the mission as he was.

Stryke stood at the warband’s head, as captain. Below him were two sergeants, one of whom was Haskeer. The other would have been the band’s only dwarf, Jup, had he not elected to stay in Maras-Dantia. Under them came two corporals. Again, one was missing; but it was death, not the gulf between worlds, that had separated Alfray from the Wolverines. The other corporal was Coilla, the sole female member, and their mistress of strategy. Beneath the officers were thirty privates. Or would have been if six hadn’t fallen along the way.

To make up the strength, Stryke enlisted half a dozen native warriors, all tyros; and to replace Alfray as second corporal he chose an ageing orc called Dallog. None of which pleased Haskeer, who was even less happy when local chieftain Quoll forced Stryke to include his foppish offspring, Wheam, on the mission. Stryke decided that the band would go back to Maras-Dantia to try to find Jup, in hope of his resuming his role as sergeant. If he was still alive.

After an alarming transference, they found Maras-Dantia in an even worse state than when they had left. The magical energy that coursed through the land had grown much weaker, and what remained was corrupted and malign.

Almost as soon as the Wolverines arrived they were attacked by human marauders. One new recruit, and Liffin, a seasoned member,
were killed. As Liffin died defending Wheam, Haskeer’s contempt for the youth increased. Stryke pushed the band onward to
Quatt, the dwarfs’ homeland, a journey fraught with peril.


An unknown number of instrumentalities exist, spread across the infinity of dimensions. Activation of the warband’s set was
detected by a covert group called the Gateway Corps. A multiracial assemblage of great antiquity, dedicated to the task of
keeping the portals between worlds sealed off, the Corps hunted down instrumentalities. Corps leader Karrell Rivers, a human,
ordered his second-in-command, elf female Pelli Madayar, to recover the instrumentalities held by the Wolverines. Her unit
armed with potent magical weaponry, Pelli’s brief was to stop at nothing to achieve her mission.


The Wolverines battled their way to Quatt and found Jup, and were surprised to discover he had acquired a mate, Spurral. Wearied
by Maras-Dantia’s increasing deterioration, Jup agreed to rejoin the band, but insisted that Spurral go along too.


Before they could leave, the Wolverines encountered humans Micalor Standeven and Jode Pepperdyne, who warned them of an imminent
raid by religious fanatics. Despite their loathing and distrust of humans, the orcs heeded them, and with the dwarfs beat
off the attack. During the fight Pepperdyne, a superb warrior, saved Coilla’s life. Standeven proved less heroic.


The Wolverines weren’t aware that Pepperdyne was little more than Standeven’s slave. Nor did they know that the pair were
on the run from a despot called Kantor Hammrik, to whom Standeven was in debt. Standeven and Pepperdyne had avoided being
executed by Hammrik only because Pepperdyne played on the tyrant’s desire to possess the fabled instrumentalities. Convincing
him that they could locate a set in the so-called barbarous lands of Maras-Dantia, Standeven and Pepperdyne were dispatched
there by Hammrik under armed escort, but overcame their guards. The tale they told the Wolverines was that they were merchants
wronged by Jennesta, and were seeking revenge on her. In reality, Standeven coveted the instrumentalities the Wolverines held,
intending to use them as a bargaining chip with Hammrik.


Irate that the Wolverines had brought trouble to their settlement, the dwarfs turned on them. The band, along with Jup, Spurral
and the two humans, found themselves cornered in a blazing longhouse. Realising the only way to escape was by using the stars,
Stryke aligned them for what he hoped was the world of their mission.


The warband materialised in the verdant terrain of Acurial, whose indigenous population of orcs had lost their martial instincts.
Exploiting this weakness, the human Peczan empire had invaded under the pretext that Acurial possessed destructive magical
weapons, and their occupation was brutal.


The Wolverines soon tangled with the invaders in Taress, the capital, and were startled to discover that the humans, a race
with no talent for sorcery in Maras-Dantia, commanded powerful magic in Acurial. They had another jolt on learning that not
all the orcs of Acurial were docile. Facing overwhelming odds, they were rescued by a group of orc resistance fighters and
spirited away by them.


Outbreaks of native opposition were a thorn in the side of Kapple Hacher, general of the occupying army and governor of what
the Peczan empire considered a province. He shouldered the burden alongside Brother Grentor, the high cleric of the Order
of the Helix, custodians and practitioners of magic.


The resistance group was headed by twins Brelan and his sister Chillder. The movement’s leader in hiding was their mother,
Sylandya, who before the invasion had been Acurial’s ruler, bearing the title of primary. Stryke persuaded them that he and
his band had come from the wilderness of the far North, where some humans allied themselves with orcs, to explain Pepperdyne
and Standeven, and where dwarfs, unknown in Acurial proper, were commonplace. The mythical Northern orcs, he told them, had
never lost their taste for combat. Sceptical of Stryke’s story, the resistance decided that the Wolverines could join them
if they proved their mettle. Their task was to free resistance prisoners awaiting execution. With half the band held as hostages
under penalty of death for failure, Stryke liberated the prisoners.


The Wolverines set about helping to train and organise the rebels; and Coilla persuaded Brelan and Chillder to agree to her
forming an all-female fighting unit dubbed the Vixens.


When the occupiers of Acurial sent a feared envoy to Taress to oversee the suppression of resistance, it turned out to be
Jennesta. Having somehow survived her fate in Maras-Dantia, she had risen to a position of power and influence in the Peczan
empire, and was also titular head of the Order of the Helix. The Gateway Corps secretly arrived in Taress, too, and prepared
to retrieve the instrumentalities, whatever the cost.


More than a century before, two chieftains had vied for leadership of Acurial. At the height of the crisis a comet appeared.
It was taken as a portent, and the two agreed to rule in harness; it was a reign that proved beneficial. From old records
the resistance discovered that the comet, named Grilan-Zeat in the chieftains’ honour, returned at precise intervals, and
that it was due back imminently. The resistance’s hope was that the comet would be seen as an augury, and that it, along with
a rallying call from Sylandya, would inspire the populace to rise up. A prophecy connected to the comet stated that its arrival
would be accompanied by a heroic band of liberators. To the Wolverines’ astonishment, the resistance thought the warband might
be these long-awaited saviours, or at least could be presented as such to inspire the masses.


The resistance stepped up their activity with the aim of provoking greater repression, in the hope that this would goad the
placid majority of orcs into reacting. Sylandya’s belief was that if pushed hard enough the orcs of Acurial would have their
martial spirit rekindled.


A series of assaults on Peczan interests proved successful, until an ambitious raid on one of the occupiers’ garrisons went
disastrously wrong. Upping the stakes, the Wolverines launched a bid to assassinate Jennesta. This, too, was foiled, and ended
with the sorceress gaining possession of four of the five instrumentalities. Stryke began to speculate that there could be
a traitor in the resistance ranks, or perhaps nearer to home. Among those suspected were the humans Standeven and Pepperdyne,
despite their apparent support for the rebellion.


Then the fifth star, which Stryke had entrusted to Coilla, was stolen from a resistance safe house. The presumption was that
it, too, had fallen into Jennesta’s hands.


As the comet made its appearance, dim but unmistakable, the Wolverines faced the prospect of being stranded in an alien world.

Only five of them were left alive.

They were four privates and an officer, the latter a female. Several bore wounds. All were close to panic.

The defence had been tough and bloody. But the company’s ranks had finally broken under the onslaught, forcing the handful of survivors to retreat. They fell back from the breached gates and dashed for refuge. Behind them, the savage creatures poured in on a wave of fear and destruction.

Sprinting across the parade ground the five headed for a barracks block, a building of wood and stone, windowless and with a single door. They piled in and frantically barricaded the entrance with cots and lockers. Outside, the commotion carried on.

“This is one hell of a bolt-hole,” an infantrymen complained. “There’s no way out of here.” He was near the edge and, like the others, sweat-sheened and breathing hard.

“I don’t get it,” a comrade said. “These animals are supposed to be docile.”

“Docile?” another retorted. “Like hell!”

“What we going to do?” the fourth wanted to know.

“Get a grip,” their captain told them, doing her best to sound calm. “There’ll be support. We just need to sit tight.”

“Reinforcements, ma’am?” the first queried. “It’ll be a while before we see any out here on the fringes.”

“The more reason to stand firm. Now let’s get those wounds seen to. And stay alert!”

They ripped up bedding for dressings and set to binding their injuries. Their captain got them checking their weapons, and scouring the barracks for more. She had them further reinforce the door. Anything to keep them occupied.

“Hey,” one of the troopers said, halting the activity. “It’s gone really quiet out there.”

They listened to the silence.

“Could be they’ve gone,” a comrade offered, instinctively whispering.

“Maybe the backup’s arrived,” somebody added hopefully.

“So why can’t we hear them?”

“Just the sight of reinforcements coming might’ve scared the creatures off.”

“Care for a wager on that?”

“Stow it!” the captain snapped. “Chances are the raiders have pulled out. All we have to do —”

A series of heavy thumps shook the door. They scrambled to it and threw their weight against the barricade. The pounding grew stronger, making the pile of furniture blocking it shudder. Fine clouds of dust began falling from the beamed ceiling.

Something hit the door with a tremendous crash, the shock wave jolting the defenders and sending part of the barricade tumbling. They hardly had time to brace themselves again before there was a second hefty impact. A cabinet toppled. Something made of pottery shattered.

The blows took on a regular, almost rhythmic pattern, each more jarring than the last. The door started to warp and splinter. The remains of their makeshift fortifications were weakening under the assault.

“We… can’t hold… this!” a straining trooper warned.

A battering ram smashed through the door, demolishing what was left of the barricade. Swinging again, the ram destroyed the vestiges of the door and sent debris flying.

The troopers quickly moved away. Save one, caught in the confined space and entangled by wreckage. There was a high-pitched whistle. An arrow flashed through the gaping entranceway and struck him. Two more instantly followed. He went down.

His companions retreated, weapons drawn, and backed along the aisle between the lines of camp beds on either side. Shadowy figures were swarming through the ruined entrance. Ugly, grotesque beasts. Monsters.

The soldiers upended cots and tossed them in their pursuers’ path, hoping to slow their progress. A couple of the troopers had shields and deployed them in fear of more arrows. No arrows came, but the repellent creatures kept up their remorseless advance, leaping the obstacles or simply kicking them aside.

Soon the fleeing group came to the barracks’ end, an area uncluttered with furnishings, and had no option but to make a stand. They gathered in a knot, backs to the wall, bracing themselves to brave the coming assault as best they could.

There was no let in the creatures’ progress. They rushed onward, heedless of the bristling swords intended to keep them at bay.

A frenzy of colliding blades and clashing shields ensued. Soon, screams were added to the cacophony. A trooper collapsed, his skull split by an axe. Another lost an arm to the sweep of a broadsword, then succumbed to multiple stabbing.

The fight grew yet more feverish. Fuelled by desperation, the two remaining defenders battled with ever greater ferocity. In the blizzard of stinging steel one misjudged the tempo of the battering and left open his guard. A sword found his belly; another stroke sliced cleanly through his neck, sending his head bouncing to one side. The headless corpse stood for a second, gushing crimson, before it fell.

Only the captain remained. Bloodstained, panting, her blade near slipping from moist fingers, she readied herself for the final act.

The monsters could have attacked en masse and finished her in an instant. But they held back. Then just one came forward.

It took the captain a moment to realise that the creature was waiting to engage her. She raised her sword. The being mirrored her and they set to.

Silence had fallen again, save for the pealing clatter of their blades. She fenced well, for all she had suffered and witnessed. The beast matched her in skill, though its method relied more on power and a boldness that was almost reckless. Their duel ranged back and forth across the cramped barracks, but none of the other creatures impeded her or tried to join in. They merely watched.

The finale came when the captain suffered a deep gash to her sword arm. A swift follow-through saw her take a further wound to the flank. Staggering, she lost her footing and went down.

The creature stood over her. She looked up into its eyes. What she saw was something more than brutishness. The bestial was there, but tempered with what she could only think of as a kind of empathy. And, perhaps, even a hint of nobility.

It was a fantastical notion, and it was the last one she would ever have.

The monster plunged its blade into the captain’s chest.

Wrenching her blade from the female’s corpse, Coilla said, “She fought well.”

“They all did,” Stryke agreed.

“For humans,” Haskeer sneered.

More than a dozen other orcs were crowded into the barracks with them. All were Wolverines, with the exception of Brelan, a leader of the Acurial resistance. He elbowed through the throng, barely glancing at the human’s body. “Time we were out of here,” he told them.

They streamed from the barracks. There were over a hundred orcs in the compound, the majority of them resistance members, along with the rest of the Wolverines and the Vixens, the female warband Coilla led. They were busy scavenging weapons and torching the place. The few humans left alive were mortally injured, and they let them be.

As Brelan’s order to evacuate spread, the force began to leave, moving out in small groups or singly. They took their own wounded, but by necessity left their dead.

Stryke, Haskeer and Coilla watched them go. Dallog, the Wolverines’ eldest member, and one of the newest, joined them.

“We bloodied their nose good ’n’ proper,” he remarked.

Stryke nodded. “We did, Corporal.”

Haskeer shot Dallog a hard look and said nothing.

“The tyros are shaping up well,” Coilla offered by way of compensation.

“Seem to be,” Dallog replied. “I’m heading off with some of them now.”

“Don’t let us keep you,” Haskeer muttered.

Dallog stared at him for a second, then turned and left.

“See you back at HQ!” Coilla called after him.

“Go easy on him, Haskeer,” Stryke said. “I know he’s not Alfray but —”

“Yeah, he’s not Alfray. More’s the pity.”

Stryke would have had something further to say to his sergeant, and in harsher terms, had Brelan not returned.

“Most have gone. You get going too. Hide your weapons, and remember the curfew starts soon,. . .