“Hey, Beldrak, could you make some of your exquisite tea?” asked Jim. “Some hot drink would feel good.”

“Of course,” said the wizard surprised. He started to conjure his floating disk. The kettle was strapped on the top of his backpack, so I took it, and began to fill up with fresh snow while whistling an old melody which Roman soldiers were probably already singing back in the day of Servius Tullius.

“Thank you, Arnold,” Trueanvil took the kettle from me, and looked even more surprised. “You are surprisingly crisp this morning.”

“Unlike our prisoners,” I laughed. The three orks who had fallen into our hands on 3. of November were forced to march fast, with their hands tied. After they tried to run away a few times, we have also beaten them and kept them hungry, so that they abandon their foolish ideas sooner.

“I have slept enough in the last tendays for a year,” I continued.

“Without a doubt,” said the dwarf thoughtfully.

I have already seen a few times how he makes tea while marching, but it still fascinated me. Magic sure was practical. He turned back towards his flying disk that was following from a distance, and hurled motes of fires at it. The disk soon became hot, melting the snow in the kettle, and in a few minutes, the water was boiling. The hardest part of this manoeuvre was probably walking backwards without slowing down, but Trueanvil already had considerable practice in that.

“If Rhodarr would be here, he would surely add a bottle of rum too,” grinned Jim when Beldrak poured the hot tea in our mugs. “Poor bastard missing out on all the fun.”

“I never had the impression that you liked him so much,” said Beldrak.

“I am a friend to all sentient beings,” the tiefling announced generously, and handed a small flagon filled with tea to the orks. “Even those that try to kill me.”

“Food then us give?” asked the ork called Thomas in his broken Common. He was the defiant one, whom Jim had beaten half to death when we captured them.

“Even friendship has its limits.”

The ork spat out, but still accepted the tea.

“Now you see can,” said Maxime, the ork that agreed to lead us and gestured towards a thin column of smoke that was rising from somewhere on the mountain before us. “In fort fire. Ork fort. I lead you here. Captive leave behind? Tied ork cannot run. If you win, still captive. If our friends win they free us.”

“I bet you would like that,” I said. “But I am not convinced you wouldn't make some mischief if we just left you behind. You are coming with us.”

“Ork gives word. Ork not run away,” pleaded Maxime.

“Treachery is not the style of the orks,” said Beldrak thoughtfully. “They are vicious, cruel and evil critters, but they stand by their words. If all three of you promise to remain our prisoners in case we win, we leave you behind.”

Antoine, the third ork seemed to hesitate, but Thomas just spat out.

“Thomas no give word. Thomas want see dwarf and horned beast die.”

“That decides it,” I shrugged. “You are all coming with us.”

We started up the path to the mountain. It was a serpentine way twisting left and right, but always slanting upwards. I went as first, behind me the orks, Jim and Beldrak after them, keeping their eyes on our prisoners. This time we didn't only bind the greenskins' hands, but also gagged them, so they couldn't alarm their comrades. Last in the line was Gaius, who followed us in his own pace.

At one point when I judged the smoke of the orks' fire less than a mile away, the path took a sharp turn at a cliff that was blocking my view. That was also the point where our prisoners decided to make a run for it.

“Arnold!” As I heard Jim's shout, I turned, just in time to see one of our prisoners rolling down the steep mountainside as he jumped from the path. The other two were held back by Jim and Beldrak. I rushed back to help them.

It didn't take long to subdue the two orks again, as they were already weak from hunger and our beatings. The third ork however broke his neck. I could see his head twisting in an impossible angle.

“Poor Maxime,” I sighed. “He was rather likeable as far as orks go.”

“That means that we must be practically at the gate, doesn't it?” asked Beldrak.

“I will go ahead and look behind the cliff,” I said. “Don't let these two kill themselves, we might need them if we have to talk our way through.”

As Beldrak suspected the fortress stood just behind the cliff, somewhat closer than I thought going by the column of smoke we saw. Its wall was built from the same kind of stone that it stood on, but cut into small bricks and nicely polished. There was a small ravine between the road and the wall, and the only gate I saw had to be approached by walking along the path for at least fifty paces, and climbing multiple stairs. There were arrow-slits in the wall, and I saw metal glinting behind one of them. A mail or helmet of the watch in all probability.

Orks were sitting at a table, using a bigger platform as a terrace. There were six of them, and they were absorbed in some kind of board game. They also all carried daggers; javelins and axes laid in their reach.

“We cannot get into the fortress unnoticed,” I announced the bad news to my comrades. “If they had one guard, and he had one eye, he would see us. As it happens, they have at least half a dozen, and also some archers behind the wall.”

“We could use the remaining two orks as living shields,” suggested Jim.

“That's... not really your style,” said Beldrak.

“It is now,” the tiefling grinned.

“I like the idea,” I said. “Antoine, I will take the wad out of your mouth now. When your comrades notice us, shout them to open the gate. If they comply, you will live.”

The ork nodded.

“Gaius, wait for us here!” I ordered the mule. He probably didn't understand my command, but he also didn't need to. Any mule would be too smart to follow us into a hail of arrows, and this beast was more intelligent than most.

All this done, I retrieved my spare javelins from Gaius, and rushed forward, forcing Thomas to go between me and the fortress.

Almost instantly after we appeared in the sight of the fortress' arrow-slits, we heard shouting. The archers hesitated first, but then Antoine screamed at them.

I don't think he shouted “Open the gate!,” like I ordered him to. It was more likely something along the lines “Kill the bastards, and shoot us too, if you must!” because the other orks let loose their arrows at us.

Any sane person would have turned tails at this point. We were hopelessly outnumbered, and even Beldrak's magic had its limits. We should have pulled back, re-evaluated our plans and tried to find a way to draw out the orks from their fortress. Or search for a less well-guarded way in. Trueanvil was a sane person, and he did shout us to pull back. But Jim and I were never going to do that. We were mad with bloodlust.

The ambush on the 3rd of November made both of us feel alive again. It freed us from our torments and doubts. Now, that we have seen an opportunity to fight again, we were not going to simply back down.