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strength, the fleeing creature toppled forward.
    Gruffly, Cræosh grabbed him by his tunic and hauled him upright. Cooperation was just fine, but he wasn’t about to
coddle
anyone. “What happened?” he asked, his tone blunt.
    “I—I—I, that is, I…”
    Cræosh, fast running short of patience with the little sniveler, lifted him bodily off the ground with one arm and shook him hard. A few of the orcs winced at the grating sounds from the gremlin’s ruined shoulder, though they weren’t especially bothered by the moans of pain that accompanied them.
    The large orc dropped his arm, and the gremlin’s feet met the earth with a solid thump. “Now,” Cræosh said amicably, “why don’t you try that again?”
    “Yes, sir!” The gremlin drew himself up into the closest approximation of a military stance that his present condition would allow. “My unit and I, see, we were patrolling near the Brimstone Mountains…”
    Exactly what
we
were supposed to be doing. Duplication of effort
, Cræosh thought bitterly to himself.
If they’d all just fuckin’
talk
to each other…
    “Well,” the gremlin continued, unmindful of the orc’s resentment, “we’d just about finished our morning rounds, when Ulev—he’s our best scout, you see. Well, he used to be…”
    Cræosh’s jaw began to stiffen.
    “Right. Umm, Ulev came running back, told us there was a small human caravan cutting through the foothills on the other side of the range. Well, of course, we all figure, hey, human caravan this far out, and Dororam’s got all the armies tied down until spring, it’s gotta be a merchant, right? That means stuff we can eat, things we can use or sell. So we all figure, hey, easy mark.”
    The large orc shook his head, the nostrils of his porcine snout distended in incredulity. “It didn’t occur to you,” he asked, his voice equal parts astonishment and disgust, “that a human caravan anywhere
near
our borders was probably well guarded?”
    “I—that is, it’s funny you should mention that…”
    Cræosh snorted. “They slaughtered you.”
    The little creature nodded sadly. “Down to the last gremlin. I’m only here now because I had the sense to run when the human I was fighting tripped over a rock. A few of the bugbears were alive when I left, but the gods only know how they’re faring by now.”
    Cræosh snorted again. “Gods,” indeed!
What a primitive fucking people the gremlins are.
…
    “We should go after them!” Dækek interjected. “Teach them to mess with Kirol Syrreth!” The others grunted their agreement.
    But Cræosh refused. “Even if the bugbears managed to delay them, they’re long gone by now.”
    It was now, however, the gremlin’s turn to shake his head, and rather emphatically at that. “I don’t think so, sir. You see, I’m not the only gremlin who ran, actually. We’re really a pretty smart race, when it comes down to…Anyway, some of the knights rode in through some of the smaller passes, cut them off. I was a little farther ahead, but—well, if they saw which direction I went in, they might still be looking for me. I don’t think they were happy about the idea of me getting away to report them.”
    Cræosh’s ears perked up. “Knights?” That meant men who knew one end of a sword from the other. And Father knew how much he’d been craving a challenge!
    “You.” Cræosh pointed at one of the orcs. “Take the gremlin back to Chief Berrat. Have him follow along. The rest of us are gonna go find us some humans.”
    It was a deliberate affront to Berrat, and they all knew it. If the fight went badly, he wouldn’t be so far behind that he couldn’t bail them out; and if it went well, it would be over before he got there. In either case, he’d lose out on the lion’s share of the glory.
    As would Cræosh’s “volunteer.”
    “Why do
I
have to go back?” he snapped unhappily. “Let Dækek go. He’s faster anyway.”
    “Yes, he is. Which is exactly why I want