“Hardly looks worth the cost of so many lives,” Jup remarked.

Stryke reached for the cylinder and examined it briefly before slipping it into his belt. “I’m just a humble captain. Naturally our mistress didn’t explain the details to one so lowly.” His tone was cynical.

Coilla frowned. “I don’t understand why that last creature should throw its life away protecting a female and her offspring.”

“What sense is there in anything humans do?” Stryke replied. “They lack the balanced approach we orcs enjoy.”

The cries of the baby rose to a more incessant pitch.

Stryke turned to look at it. His green, viperish tongue flicked over mottled lips. “Are the rest of you as hungry as I am?” he wondered.

His jest broke the tension. They laughed.

“It’d be exactly what they’d expect of us,” Coilla said, reaching down and hoisting the infant by the scruff of its neck. Holding it aloft in one hand, level with her face, she stared at its streaming blue eyes and dimpled, plump cheeks. “My gods, but these things are ugly.”

“You can say that again,” Stryke agreed.