Chapter 8 Chapter VII

Thrall knew that Terasa had marked the locations of those holding cells so he could avoid them.She told him to try to find free orcs.But he wondered if these "free orcs" really existed, or if they were merely figments of the imagination of warriors eager to fight.He had learned how to read a map under Geralmine, so he knew how to read the copy Teri had given her. Now he's heading straight for a detention facility. He had not chosen the one nearest Dunholde; it was quite possible that Blackmoore would issue an alert should he be found missing.According to the map, there is a detention center far away from the castle where Thrall grew up.That's where he was going.

Little did he know of these detentions, and that little was permeated by the hearts of humans who hated his people.It was on his mind as he trotted effortlessly, tirelessly toward his destination.What would it be like to see so many orcs in one place?Can they understand what he is saying?Could the human accent have polluted him, making it impossible for him to change even the most basic speech?Will they challenge him?He doesn't want to fight them.He's a well-trained warrior, but is he strong enough to face these legendary creatures?Can he always hold back his temper and persuade them that he is not the enemy?

The road is underfoot.He looked at the stars again and again to judge his position.He had never learned to sail, but a book Terry had secretly given him told him how to observe the stars and their positions.Thrall was eager to learn, absorbing any trivial information in front of him. Maybe he'll meet the clan that wears the crest of a wolf with a white wolf's head on a blue background.Maybe he can find his family.Blackmoore had told him he had been found not far from Dunholde, so Thrall thought he might well have met a member of his own clan. Excitement overwhelmed him.That's great.

He travels night and day, stopping to rest when the sun rises.If he knew Blackmoore, as he did, the Lieutenant-General should have dispatched his men to look for him.Probably they have been forced to use their famous flying machines.Thrall had never seen them, and secretly doubted their existence.But if they did exist, then Blackmoore would have ordered one of them to be used to find his escaped champion. He thought of Teri, hoping desperately that she wouldn't be found out as part of his escape. Blackmoore felt he had never been angrier in his life, and that was a big deal. He woke up from his sleep—he was alone tonight, and Terasa had left under the pretext of illness—to the loud ringing of the bell, staring in horror at the orange flames that billowed across the courtyard.Quickly he dressed and ran to join the other civilians of Durnholde in an attempt to contain the flames.It took hours, but by the time the pink of dawn began to stain the night sky, the hellfire had been tamed into a smoldering pile of embers.

"It's a miracle no one got hurt," Langdon said, rubbing his forehead.His pale face was blackened by the smoke.Blackmore thought he looked good.Everyone present was drenched in sweat.The servants have plenty of washing to-morrow. "Not just the cattle," Tammis said, walking towards them. "The animals couldn't have escaped by themselves. We're not sure yet, my master, but it looks like someone set the fire on purpose." "In the name of the Holy Light!" Langdon gasped. "You really think so? Who would do such a thing?" "I'll count my enemies with my fingers, unless I run out of fingers," growled Blackmoore. "And the toes. There are a lot of bastards who are jealous of my position and my...Lothar-like spirit." He felt a sudden chill, imagining his own paleness against the black ash.Langston and Tammis both stared at him.

He didn't have time to explain what he thought.He leaped over the stone steps on which he had been sitting, and rushed back to his castle.Friends and servants followed him, shouting, "Blackmoore, wait!" and "My lord, what is the matter?" Blackmoore ignored them.He rushed across the corridor, up the stairs, and stopped suddenly in front of the pile of wooden fragments that had been the door to Thrall's cell.His worst fears still happened. "Damn them all to hell!" he yelled. "Someone stole my orcs! Tamis! I need men, I need horses, I need flying machines—I want Thrall right back!"

Thrall was amazed at how deep his sleep was, how vivid his dreams were.He woke up at nightfall and lay still for a while.He felt the soft grass beneath him and enjoyed the breeze on his face.That's freedom, and it's really sweet.very precious.He now understands why some people would rather die than be imprisoned alive. A spear prodded his neck, and six men's faces looked down at him. "You," said one of them, "get up." Thrall cursed himself as he was led behind a horse with two men guarding him.How can he be so stupid?He wanted to take a look at the camp, yes, but from the safety of hiding.He wanted to be an observer, not part of a system he'd heard was useless.

He tried to run away, but four of them with horses caught up with him almost immediately.They had nets, spears, and swords, and Thrall was ashamed of how safely, swiftly, and efficiently they caught himself.He wanted to fight back, but decided not to.He has no illusions that these people will treat him after he is injured, and he wants to accumulate strength.Also, would going to camp with them be a good way to meet the orcs?No doubt, with the fury of their natural warriors, they will be eager to flee.Thrall's knowledge can help them. So Thrall pretended to be subdued, even though he could beat them all in one fell swoop.When people started rummaging through his packages, he immediately regretted his decision.

"There's plenty of food here," said one. "It's all good stuff. We'll have a good meal tonight, boys." "It's Director Ramka who can have a good meal tonight," said another. "Not if he doesn't know, and we won't tell her," said a third.As Thrall watched, the first person to speak eagerly took a bite of the morsel that Terasa had tucked in. "Okay, look at this," said the second. "A pocket knife." He stood up and walked towards Thrall, who was helplessly caught in the net of traps. "It's all stolen, isn't it?" He thrust the knife into Thrall's face.Sal didn't even blink.

"Put the knife down, Haut," said the second man, the smallest and most nervous of the six.Everyone else tied their horses to a nearby branch and busied themselves dividing the spoils, stowing them in their saddlebags, choosing not to report to the mysterious Supervisor Ramka, whoever he was? "I'll take this," Hout said. "You can take the food, but you know that everything else we find has to be reported," said the second man, who seemed nervously standing next to Haut but stubbornly determined to obey orders. "What if I don't?" Hout said.Thrall didn't like him; he looked mean and infuriating, like Blackmoore. "What do you want?"

"Now I should tell you what I'm going to do, Haut," said a new voice.The man is tall and thin.It doesn't look like much physically, but Thrall has fought many outstanding fighters before, and he knows that skills are as important as body size, and even more important.Judging from Howt's reaction, the man was respected. "There are rules, so we'll have to keep an eye out for that orc. It's the first orc we've seen in a year carrying a human weapon. It's worth reporting. As for the..." Thrall watched in horror as the man began to flip through Terasa's letters.The man turned to look at Thrall with blue eyes. "I didn't expect you to be literate, did you?" The others burst out laughing, nearly spouting, but the one asking the question looked serious.Thrall wanted to answer, but decided it was best not to.Better to pretend you don't even understand human language, he thought. The tall man walked up to him.Thrall tensed up, readying himself for a thrashing, but the man crouched down next to Thrall, looking straight into Thrall's eyes.Thrall turned his head to one side and looked to the side. "You. Are you literate?" The man stretched out his gloved hand, pointing at the letters.Thrall looked at them and shook his head violently in a way that even an orc who knew no human language could express.The man stared at Thrall for a moment, then got up and walked away.Thrall wasn't sure the human believed him. "He looked familiar, not sure why," the person said.Salton was cold all over. "It looks to me like they're all the same," Hout said. "Big, green, and ugly." "Too bad none of us can read," said the tall man. "I bet these letters tell us a lot." "You're always in the wild, Varrick," said Howt, with a hint of contempt in his voice. Varik stuffed the letters back into the pack, snatched the knife from Howt's pretentious dodge, and slung the empty pack over the shoulder of his mount. "Take this food before I change my mind. We'll take him to camp." Thrall figured they'd load him into a cart, or maybe one of those wagons he'd seen a long time ago.As a result, he did not receive even the most basic courtesy at all.They simply tied a rope to the snare net that bound him tightly and dragged behind a horse.However, Thrall, after so many years of fighting career, has a very high tolerance for pain.What made his heart ache was the loss of Terasa's letter.Fortunately no one can read them.He's glad the group didn't find the necklace.He clutched the necklace tightly in his hand last night and tossed it into the pocket of his black trousers before anyone noticed it.This part of Terasa, at least, he kept. The journey looks like it will never end, but the sun is slowly crawling across the sky.Finally, they reached a huge stone wall.Varik asked to enter, and Thrall heard the sound of the heavy door opening.He was being dragged on his back so he had a clear view of the thick wall they had entered.The uninterested guards glanced at the stranger and went about their duties. It was the stench that hit Thrall first.It reminded Thrall of Dunholde's stables, but much stronger.He wrinkled his nose.Howt was watching Thrall, who laughed. "Too long away from your kind, eh, green one?" he sneered. "Forget how bad you guys smell?" He held his nose and looked around. "Haut," Varik warned.He grabbed the net rope and issued some orders.Immediately, Thrall found himself let go, and stood up. He looked around in horror.There were dozens—perhaps hundreds—of orcs swarming everywhere.Some sat in puddles full of their own filth, their eyes glazed over, their toothy jaws drooping limply.Some walked back and forth like trapped animals, muttering incomprehensibly.Some huddled up and slept on the ground, as if they didn't care about being stepped on.Occasionally there was an argument, but it seemed like it would take too much energy to end as quickly as it started. What's going on here?Did these men anesthetize Thrall's brethren?There must be an answer to this.He knew what the orcs had been like, how fierce, how fierce.He had expected... well, he didn't know what to expect, but it was anything but weird, unnatural, lifeless. "Come on," Varik said, nudging Thrall toward the nearest group of orcs. "Food is delivered once a day. There is water in the sink." Thrall straightened up and tried to walk boldly towards the five orcs sitting by the sink.He could feel Varik's eyes on his scarred back, and he heard the man say, "I could have sworn I saw him somewhere." Then the man walked away. When Thrall came to the side, only one orc looked up at him.His heart was beating hard.He had never been so up close to his own people, and now, here were five of them. "I greet you," he said in Orcish. They look at him.One of them lowered his head and continued digging at a small stone sunken deep in the soil. Sal tried again. "I salute you," he said, spreading his arms in a gesture that his books told him to pay respects between warriors. "Where did they get you?" finally one of them asked, speaking in Human Tongue.In Thrall's shocked eyes, he said, "You were not born to speak Orcish. I can tell." "You are right. I was raised by humans. They only taught me a little Orcish. I hope you can help me learn more." The orcs looked at each other and suddenly laughed. "Raised by humans, huh? Hey, Cratchis - over here! We've got a great storyteller! Well, Shaman, tell us another story." Thrall felt his chance to connect with these people slipping through his fingers. "Please don't do that, I didn't mean to slander. I'm as much a prisoner as you are now. I've never seen any orcs, I just wanted to..." Now the guy who had been looking away turned his head away, and Thrall felt a moment of silence.The orc's eyes are bright red and appear to glow as if lit from within. "So you want to meet your fellow countrymen? Well, you've seen us. Now let's be quiet." He turned back to picking stones. "Your eyes..." Thrall whispered, stunned by the strange red flash, ignoring the insult. The orc flinched, raised a hand over his face, and ran further away, avoiding Thrall's gaze. Thrall turned to ask a question and found himself isolated.The other orcs moved slowly away from him, casting secret glances behind him. The sky was overcast all day long and gradually getting colder.Now, as Thrall stood alone in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by the rest of his kin, the gray sky opened up, and icy rain mixed with snow fell on the ground. Thrall didn't pay attention to the bad weather, and he fell into deep pain.That's why he cut off all his attachments so far?To live as a captive with a group of listless, slow-moving creatures he once wanted to lead against human tyranny?Which is worse?He pondered whether to fight for Blackmoore's glory in the ring, sleep comfortably and safely, read the letter from Teri, or stand alone with his feet in the cold muddy water, surrounded by every brother in his blood. And estranged? The answer came quickly: both were intolerable.Unobtrusively, Thrall began to look around for a way to escape.This should be easy.There were few guards around, and at night, they had a much harder time seeing than Thrall.The guards looked bored and jaded, judging by the lack of mental, physical strength, and interest in the poor orc they were holding.Thrall didn't think any of them even had the guts to try and climb that very low wall. He could feel the rain now, soaking the black trousers he was wearing.A pale, gloomy day, for this pale, gloomy lesson.These orcs are not noble, fierce warriors.He could not imagine that these creatures had ever brought even the slightest resistance to human beings. "We weren't always what you see now," said a soft, low voice from his elbow.Thrall turned his head in surprise and saw the red-eyed orc staring at him intently with restless eyes. "Soulless, timid, ashamed. That's what they did to us," he continued, pointing to his eyes. "If we can get rid of it, our hearts and our spirits can come back." Thrall sat down in the mud beside him. "Go on," he urged. "I am listening."