Chapter 9 chapter eight

It has been almost two days since the fire and Thrall's escape, and Blackmoore spent most of the time in anger and depression.Finally, under the strong persuasion of Tammis, he went out to hunt with falcons.He had to admit that the servant had a good idea. The weather was gloomy, but he and Terasa were dressed for the ride, their blood warmed by wild galloping.He would have liked to go hunting, but his kind mistress persuaded him that riding alone would be pleasant enough to pass the time.He watched Terasa canter past on the grey-and-white colt that Blackmoore had given her two years ago, hoping for warmer weather.He could think of other ways to spend this time happily with Terasa.

The daughter of the Foxtons is a ripe fruit now!She had been a sweet, well-behaved little child and developed into a beautiful, well-behaved woman.Who would have thought that those bright blue eyes would attract him so much, that he would be so obsessed with burying his face in her smooth long blonde hair?It hadn't occurred to her, and neither had Blackmoore.But since he took her for himself years ago, she has worked hard to please him, and it has been effective. Langston once asked Blackmoore when he was going to ditch Terasa and take a wife.Blackmoore replied that even if he took a wife, he would not dump Terasa.There was plenty of time to think about these things when his plans were finally realized.Once he had the entire Union kneeling before him, he would be in a higher position to engineer a political marriage in his favour.And actually, that's not a conflict.Now there was plenty of time to enjoy Terasa, whenever and wherever he wanted.The longer he spent with Terasa, the less he could satisfy his cravings, the more pleasant it was to see her appear.Many times, when he woke up and saw her sleeping, with the stream of silver moonlight streaming through the window on Terasa, he wondered if he was in love with her.

He stopped Nightsinging, the growing old but still contented horse, and watched Teresa jokingly riding Cinderella around him.At his bidding, she wore no hat or braided hair, which fell loosely over her shoulders like a waterfall of pure gold.Terasa smiled, and after a moment their eyes met. To hell with the weather.What are they going to do. He was about to dismount Teresa and walk into a nearby patch of shrubbery - that would keep them warm - when he heard the hooves of the horses approaching.He grimly watched Langston emerge panting, his mount steaming and foaming in the cold afternoon.

"My lord," he said breathlessly, "I believe we have news of Thrall." Supervisor Rollin?Ramka was not one to be fooled.Even though she stood only a little over five feet tall when standing straight, she was stocky and strong enough to handle any fight with ease.Driven by a burning desire to destroy all green-skinned creatures that had ever attacked her village, she disguised herself as a man and enlisted in the army many years ago.When her disguise was exposed, his immediate superiors immediately sent her back to the front line.She later learned that the officer wanted her killed in combat so he wouldn't have to embarrassingly debrief about her.But Rollins?Ramka survived tenaciously and cleared her name, while performing some tasks better than any man in the team.

She has a savage pleasure in slaughtering her enemies.In more than one mission, after killing the enemy, she would smear red and black blood all over her face to show her victory.Men always shy away from her. During these peaceful times, Director Ramka had almost as much fun fixing the slugs who had been her most hated enemies, though the fun was lessened now that the bastards had stopped fighting.Why they looked more and more like lambs to the slaughter than monsters was a question that Ramka and her men often discussed in the evenings over beer and cards. There is nothing more satisfying than capturing these once fearsome killers and turning them into servile minions.She found that guys with weird red eyes were the most malleable.They seem to crave guidance and praise, even from her.Now, one of them is carrying a bucket of hot water to her residence.

"Make sure the water is hot, Grichko," she ordered. "Don't forget the vanilla this time!" "Yes, my lady." A female orc replied in a humble voice.Almost immediately, Ramka smelled the fragrance of dried herbs and flower petals.Ever since she started working here, she seems to have been exuding a stench.She couldn't get that smell out of her clothes, but at least she could wash it off her skin and her long black hair by soaking her body in the warm, scented water. Ramka had adapted to men's clothing, which was much more practical than the effeminate, cheap and gaudy rags.After so many years of fighting in the field, she was very used to wearing it like this, and she began to like it.Now she took off her boots with a sigh.Just as she was handing the boots to Grichko to wash, there was an urgent knock at the door.

"Better be a good thing," she muttered, opening the door. "What is it, Varik?" "We captured an orc yesterday," he said. "Yes, yes. I read your report. As we speak, my bathwater is getting cold—" "That orc looks familiar to me," Varik added. "By the Light, Varik, they all look alike!" "No. This one looks different. Now I know why." He stepped aside and a tall, burly figure appeared in the doorway.Director Ramka was taken aback, wishing desperately that he was still wearing his boots. "Lieutenant General Blackmoore," she said. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Director Ramka," Edlas?Blackmoore said, his white teeth gleaming slightly against his neat black goatee, "I believe you've found my escaped orc pet." Thrall listened, fascinated, as the red-eyed orc whispered tales of valor and strength.He recounted the charge against an almost impossible opponent, the heroic deeds, and how humans were routed before a relentless green wave of united orcs.He also spoke of people hungry for spiritual power, some Thrall had never heard of. "Oh yes," Kelgar said sadly. "Once, before we were proud, war-thirsty tribes, we were separate clans. Among those clans were some who knew the magic of wind and water, sky and earth, and the souls of all beasts, and they lived in harmony with those powers. We call them 'shamans', and until the advent of warlocks, their abilities were all we knew of power."

These words seemed to anger Kelgar.He pumped his fists out of some excitement and growled, "Power! Can it feed our people and raise our children? Our leaders hold power in their own hands, and only the least drop is left to us." The rest. They... didn't do anything, Thrall. I don't know what. But we were defeated, and all desire to fight drained from us like a ripped wound Go the same way." He lowered his head, resting on his folded knees, and closed his red eyes. "Have you all lost your desire to fight?" Thrall asked. "Everyone here. Those who resist will not be arrested. If they are here, they will be killed for resisting." Kelga still closed his eyes.

Thrall respected the other orcs' need for quiet.His heart was filled with disappointment.Kelgar's story brought out a string of truths, and to prove it, all Thrall had to do was watch him.What strange things happened?How could a whole race of people let their natures be so perverted, that they'd be ruined long before they were caught and thrown into this filthy pigsty? "But the desire to fight has been strongly preserved in you, Thrall, despite your name meaning something else." His eyes opened again, and they seemed to burn towards Thrall. "Maybe you were raised by humans to keep these. Some people are like you. Still out there. The wall isn't too high, and you can climb over it if you want."

"Yes," Thrall said eagerly. "Tell me where I can find someone like me." "The only one I've ever heard of is Grom? Hellscream," Kelgar said. "He is not defeated yet. His people, the Warsong clan, come from the west of the land. That's all I can tell you. Grom's eyes are like mine, but his spirit still resists." Kay Erga bowed her head. "If only I were as strong as ever." "You can do it," Thrall said. "Come with me, Kelgar. I'm strong, and I can easily make you climb over a wall if—" Kelgar shook her head. "It's not power that's lost, Thrall. I can easily kill those guards in one shot. Anyone here. It's the desire. I don't want to try to climb the wall. I want to stay here. I can't explain it, I'm ashamed, but it's the truth. You've got to have that passion, that fire, for all of us here." Thrall nodded in agreement, though he couldn't understand it.Who doesn't want to be free?Who wouldn't want to fight, to take back what was taken, to make unjust humans pay back for what they have done to their own people?But it was clear: of all the orcs here, he was the only one who dared to raise his fist. He will wait until nightfall.Kelgar said there were only a handful of guards, and they often got drunk.Thrall thought his chance would come if he pretended to be like all the other orcs. At this time, a female orc came over.She looked up to something, which is rare here, and Thrall stood still when it was obvious she was looking for him. "Are you the orc who was just captured?" she asked in human language. Sal nodded. "My name is Sal." "Then, Thrall, you'd better know that the commander of the camp is coming for you." "What's his name?" Thrall felt a chill in his heart, the thing he feared the most had come. "I don't know, but he was wearing a red and gold tunic with a black falcon on it—" "Blackmoore," Thrall hissed. "I should have known he could find me." There was a loud clanging sound, and all the orcs turned to the tall tower. "We're going to line up," said the female orc. "Although the usual roll call is not at this time." "They want you, Thrall," Kelgar said. "But they won't find you. You have to go now. The guards will be distracted by the commander's arrival. I'll make some fun. The smallest guarded area is at the end of the camp. We're all going to where the bell rings, just Like cattle," he said, poking fun at himself with calm demeanor. "Go. Now." Sal said nothing.Lifting his heels and running quickly, the route was in the opposite direction to the suddenly crowded orcs.Just as he was pushing desperately, he heard a cry of pain.It was the female orc.He dared not stop and look back, but when he heard Kelgar growl harshly in Orcish, he understood.Kelgar somehow tried his best to go back to the depths of his heart, and found the shadow of his original fighting spirit.He started fighting the female orc.From the sound of the guard's voice, this was unusual.They came up one by one to separate the fighting orcs. Under Thrall's gaze, some guards patrolling the wall hurried towards the shouting. They might hit Kelgar and the innocent female orc, Thrall thought.He deeply regrets this.But he told himself that I was free because of what they did, and I will do whatever I can to make sure that no human ever beats an orc again. Growing up in a tightly guarded cell, where his every move was watched, Thrall couldn't believe how easily he had crossed that wall, slipped and slipped, and was free.Ahead is an area covered with dense forest.He was running faster than he had ever been before, knowing that every minute he was out in the open he could be attacked.Now, no one is warning, no one is chasing. He ran for hours through the forest, disappearing in the forest, zig-zagging his way, trying to make him as difficult as possible for the search party that would undoubtedly come.Finally, he slowed down, panting.He climbed a low tree, and as he peeped out through the thick cover of leaves, he saw a sea of ​​green. He blinked, looking for the sun.It's heading towards the horizon, on an evening road.West, Kelgar said Grom?The Hellscream clan is coming from the west. He's going to find this Hellscream, and together, they'll free their imprisoned brothers and sisters. With black gloved hands clasped behind his back, the commander of the camp, Edras?Blackmoore, walking slowly ahead of a line of orcs.All of them avoided him shyly, staring at their muddy feet.Blackmoore had to admit that they were much more interesting, and more deadly than before when they possessed a certain spirit. Blackmoore held a perfumed handkerchief to his nose to hide the stench.Close behind him, like a dog waiting for its master's whim, was Director Ramka.He had heard good things about her; she was more efficient than most men.But he wouldn't be kind if she ever grabbed his Thrall and let him slip through her fingers. "Where is that one you think is Thrall?" he asked Varik, Ramka's guardian.The young man was more composed than his superior, but even a look of panic began to show in his eyes. "I've seen him in gladiatorial fights, those blue eyes are rare..." Varik said, beginning to stutter. "Did you see him here?" "No, no, Lieutenant General. I haven't." "Maybe it's not Thrall." "We did find some of the things he stole," Varik remembered suddenly.He snapped his fingers, one of his men ran away, and returned with a large package. "Do you recognize this?" He handed Blackmoore an ordinary dagger, with the hilt facing him as a courtesy. Blackmoore's breath caught in his throat.He used to wonder where this thing went.It wasn't expensive, but he lost it... He ran his thumb over the emblem on his chest, the black falcon. "This is mine, what else?" "Some papers... Director Ramka hasn't had time to look at them yet..." Varik glossed something over, but Blackmoore understood.This idiot can't read.What kind of paper might Sal have?No doubt torn from his book.Blackmoore flipped through the package and took out all the papers underneath.He held one of them up to the light. ...wish I could talk to you instead of just correspond with you.I saw you in the ring and I feel sad for you... letter!Who can... He picked up another one. . . . I can't find time to write more and more.Our hosts demanded so much from both of us.I heard he hit you.Dear friend, I feel sorry for you.You don't deserve those... Terasa gripped Blackmoore's heart with a pain she had never felt before.He took out more letters... In the name of the Light, there are dozens... probably hundreds.How long have these two been plotting together?His eyes began to sting somehow, and his breathing became difficult.Terry... Terry, how can you, you never lack for anything... "My lord?" Ramka's concerned voice brought Blackmoore back from the painful shock.He took a deep breath and blinked back the telltale tears. "Are you all right?" "No, Director Ramka." His voice was colder and quieter than before, and he was pleased with that. "It's all bad. You once caught my orc Thrall, one of the best gladiators in the ring with grace. He's made me a lot of money over the years and will make me more. There is no doubt that it was he that your men had seized. And I did not see him at all in this row." He noticed with pleasure, keenly, that the color was fading from Ramka's face. "He was probably hiding in the camp," she reported. "He might," said Blackmoore, grinning with a grin that showed his white teeth. "Let's hope so, for your future luck, Director Ramka. Search the camp. Now." She hastened to carry out orders, shouting orders.Of course Thrall wouldn't be so stupid as to line up like a dog obeying a whistle.There's no way he's still here.But somehow, Blackmoore felt that Thrall had escaped.He's somewhere else, doing... what?What was he plotting with that bitch Terasa? Blackmore is right.A thorough search turned up nothing.Not a single orc, curse them, admitted seeing Thrall.Blackmoore demoted Ramka, put Varik in her place, and rode back slowly.Langston meets him halfway and offers sympathy, but even Langston's cheerful, silly nagging doesn't bring Blackmoore out of the gloom.In one fiery night, he lost two of the most important things at the same time: Thrall and Terrasha. He shuffled back to the residence, walked into the bedroom, and gently opened the door.The light fell on Terasa's sleeping face.Gently, without waking her, Blackmoore sat down on the bed.He took off his gloves and touched her soft, smooth cheek.She is so beautiful.Her touch made him tremble, her laughter moved him.But never again. "Sleep well, pretty traitor," he whispered.He bent down to kiss her, the pain in his heart was still there but was ruthlessly suppressed. "Sleep well until I need you."