Chapter 10 Chapter nine

Thrall had never been so exhausted and hungry in his life.But the taste of freedom was better than any meat he had tasted before, and more peaceful than lying on Durnholde's straw as a Blackmoulder prisoner.He can't catch the rabbits and squirrels that roam the woods, and can't help but wish he had learned survival skills in addition to the history of war and the arts of nature.Since it was autumn, the trees were covered with overripe fruit, and he quickly learned to look for various insects.It was only a drop in the bucket for Thrall's huge appetite, but at least he could drink from the small streams that thickened in the forest.

Several days later, when Thrall was advancing through the undergrowth, the wind blew through his nostrils with the smell of roasted meat.He took a deep breath, as if he could get food just by smelling it.He greedily searched for the scent. Even though his body was desperate for food, Thrall didn't let the hunger overwhelm his vigilant mind.That was right, for as he moved to the edge of the forested area, he saw dozens of humans. It was sunny and warm, the last few days of autumn, and people were happily preparing a feast that Thrall would drool over.There was baked bread, vats of fresh fruit and vegetables, jars of jam and butter, plates of cheese, bottles of what he guessed to be wine and mead, and in the middle of the lot, two pigs were roasting very fat .

Sal's knees softened, and he slowly sat down on the grass, staring happily at the rich food in front of him as if mocking him.On the other side, in the clean field, children played with hoops, little flags, and other toys that Thrall couldn't name.Mothers were nursing their babies, and young girls shyly danced with the boys.A scene of joy and abundance, not just food, Sal wanted to be a part of it. But he didn't.He was an orc, and a monster, and a green-skinned, and a black-blooded, and a hundred other nicknames.So he sat there and watched the villagers celebrate, have fun, and dance until night fell upon them.

The moon rose, one white and bright, one blue-green and cold, and all the pots and pans were put away.Thrall watched the villagers walking along the winding country roads, and saw small candles lit in the windows.Still he waited, watching the moon move slowly across the sky.Long after the last candle had gone out in the window, Thrall stood up and moved lightly and soundlessly towards the village. His sense of smell had always been excellent, and now Thrall made it even more sensitive by reserving all functions to the smell of food.Following the scent, he groped into the window, took out a whole piece of bread, and immediately stuffed it into his stomach hungrily. He also found a basket of apples placed by the door, and immediately greedily munched on the sweet green fruit .

Sweet and sticky juices trickled down his bare chest.He wiped it away absently with a large green hand.Slowly, the hunger was satisfied.From each house, Thrall took a little, but never too much from one house. In a window, Thrall saw several people sleeping beside the dying wall fire.He backed out immediately, waited a while, and then slowly looked in again.There were a few children there, sleeping on straw mats.There were three children, and one in swaddling clothes.Two were boys; the third was a little girl with yellow hair.As Thrall watched, the girl rolled over in her sleep. A piercing pain stabbed Thrall.As if time hadn't moved forward at all, his mind went back to the day when he first met Terasa, when she was smiling happily and waving at him.The girl looked so much like Terasa, with her round face and blond hair—a piercing snarl startled Thrall, who turned quickly to see some four-legged creature rushing towards him in the darkness.The sharp teeth snapped shut just beside his ear.Responding instinctively, Thrall grabbed the beast and clamped his hand around its throat.Was this the wolf, the kind of creature that sometimes friends with his people?

It has erect, pointy ears, a long muzzle, and sharp white teeth.It looked like the wolf in the woodblock print in the book Thrall had seen before, but the color and the shape of the head were different. Now the whole room was awake, and he heard the sound of humans shouting warnings.He put more force on his hands, and the creature gradually softened.Leaving the body behind, Thrall saw the little girl in the room staring at him with wide-eyed horror.As he watched, she screamed and pointed at him. "Monster, Daddy, monster." The hateful words hurt Thrall quickly from her pure lips.He turned to flee, only to find the terrified villagers standing in a circle around him.Some of them carried pitchforks and scythes, the only weapons these farmers had.

"I don't want to hurt you," Thrall said. "It can talk! It's a demon!" some people screamed, and another group rushed forward. Thrall dodged instinctively, his training paying off.When one of them stabbed at him with a pitchfork, Thrall nimbly grabbed the ready-made weapon and knocked down the forks and sickles in the hands of other clumsy farmers.For a moment he let out a battle cry, bloodlust rising inside him, and brandished a pitchfork at his assailants. He stopped after pinning a fallen man to the ground, who stared at him with wide-eyed eyes. These people were not his enemies, even though it was obvious that they feared him and hated him.They are just farmers, living off the crops they grow and the animals they raise.They have kids, they're afraid of him, that's everything.No, the enemy is not here.The enemy is sleeping leisurely in Durnholde Castle.Thrall let out a growl of disgust at himself, and Thrall dropped the pitchfork several yards away, and took advantage of the turn of events to break out of the encirclement and into the safety of the forest.

Those people did not come after them.Thrall didn't think of this.They just want peace.As he ran in the forest, he tried to use the momentum of running wildly to make himself forget the scene of the little girl calling him "monster" in fear, but he failed. The next day, Sal ran all day and into the evening before finally collapsing from exhaustion.He fell into a deep sleep, and no dream disturbed him.Something woke him at dawn, and Thrall blinked sleepily. Then there was a stabbing pain in his lower abdomen, and he was wide awake now—staring up at eight angry orc faces. He tried to get to his feet, but they swarmed him, tying Thrall up before he could fight back.One of them brought an angry, huge, yellow-fanged head very close to Thrall's face.He growled something completely inexplicable, and Thrall shook his head.

The orc frowned horribly, grabbed Thrall by one ear, and babbled more gibberish. Thrall guessed what he might be saying, and said in human language, "No, I'm not deaf." All the orcs hissed angrily. "Hu-human," said a big orc who looked like the boss. "You don't speak Orcish?" "A little bit," Thrall said in that language. "My name is Sal. The orc yawned and opened his mouth to smile.His men laughed too. "A human who looks like an orc!" Pointing at Thrall with a finger with black nails. "No!" Thrall yelled in Orcish.One thing about this horrific encounter gave him hope—these orcs were fighters.They do not sink in languid despair, frustrated that they cannot climb a stone wall that they can easily scale. "I want Grom? Hellscream!"

The big orc froze.He said in broken human language, "Why are you looking for him? You were sent to kill him, eh? Humans sent, eh?" Sal shook his head. "No. The camp...bad. The orcs..." He couldn't find the words in the strange language, so he sighed deeply, drooping his head, trying to make out the words he'd seen in the internment camp. The look of the poor creature. "I'm looking for an orc..." He raised his bound arms and roared angrily. "Grom's help. No more camp. No more orcs..." He feigned frustration and hopelessness again. He looked up secretly, wondering if his poor orc language could convey his meaning.At least they weren't going to kill him anymore.Another orc, who was smaller but looked as dangerous as the first, spoke hoarsely.The boss responded enthusiastically.They argued furiously, and finally the big man seemed to give in.

"Maybe you'll see Hellscream, Tragg says, if you're worth it. Come." They dragged him by the legs.The spear behind him forced Thrall to keep pace.Even though he was bound and walking among hostile orcs, Thrall felt his heart fill with joy. He was going to meet Grom?Hell growled, the orc who has been rebellious so far.Perhaps together, they will be able to free the imprisoned orcs, let them act, and awaken their birthright. Even if Thrall didn't know how much the conversation between orcs, he gradually began to understand more and more without knowing it.He said nothing, and listened quietly. The orcs who escorted him to Hellscream were amazed at his energy.Thrall noticed that most of their eyes were brown or black, not the rare, burning red eyes of most orcs in the internment camp.Kelgar had said briefly that the flaming eyeballs had something to do with the lifelessness that conquered all orcs.What is it?Thrall didn't know, and by listening, he hoped to learn something. The orcs didn't speak of the glowing red eyes, but they spoke of the ennui.Because of the contempt in their conversation, many words that Thrall could not understand were easy to understand.Thrall wasn't the only one who was saddened and disgusted that once-legendary armies had become lower than ordinary cattle.Even if it's a bull, if you provoke it, it will charge. Their words were full of praise and awe for their great chief.They also spoke of Thrall, wondering if he was some new kind of spy, coming to spy on Grom's lair and leading the humans in a timid ambush.Thrall desperately wanted a way to show them his sincerity.He'll do anything they ask to prove himself. Somewhere, the group stopped.The boss, whom Thrall had just learned was Lexac, undid a belt from his broad breastplate.He walked towards Thrall with his belt in his hands. "You want..." He said something in Orcish that Thrall couldn't understand, but Thrall understood Lexac's meaning.He bowed his head obediently, for he was taller than all the other orcs, and let his eyes be blindfolded.The belt smelled of fresh sweat and old blood. No doubt they would kill him now, or tie him up and leave him blindfolded to fend for himself.Thrall accepted that possibility, and decided it was far more worthwhile than risking his life in a gladiator ring for the honor of that ruthless bastard who had broken Tyrasha's heart. Now he walked cautiously, with an orc on each side silently grabbing his arms.He trusts them, he has no choice. I don't know how long it has passed, it seems that this journey will never end.At some point, the soft forest floor gave way to cold stone, and the air around Thrall turned cold.Thrall realized from the change in the voices of the other orcs that they had come underground. Finally, they stopped.Thrall bent down and let the belt come off.Even the dim light from the torch had him blinking constantly as he adjusted to the blindfolded darkness. He was in a huge underground cave.Sharp stalagmites protrude from the ceiling and the ground.Thrall could hear the dripping of liquid.There are several small caves outside this large cave, and the entrance is covered with many animal furs.Well-crafted armor, and well-fitting, well-maintained weapons are everywhere.A small fire was burning in the center, and the smoke drifted up to the stone roof.So here must be the legendary Grom?Where Hellscream and the remnants of the once-mighty Warsong clan take up residence. But where is that famous chief?Thrall looked around.Now more orcs came out of their caves, not one dressed like a real chieftain.He looked at Lexac. "You said you'd take me to Hellscream," he said. "I don't see him here." "You can't see him, but he's here. He can see you," said the other orc, throwing aside a hide and going into the cave.The orc was nearly as tall as Thrall, but not quite as massive.He looks older and tired.A necklace hangs from his thin throat, and he wears many animal bones, and some very likely human bones.He saluted respectfully, and Thrall gladly returned the salute.Whoever this orc is, he is an important figure in the clan.Apparently, it was almost as fluent in Human Tongue as Thrall. Thrall pondered. "This one might be. But I want to talk to him, not just be happy that he popped up." The orc smiled. "You have willpower, Flame," he said. "That's good. I'm Iskar, advisor to Warchief Hellscream." "My name is—" "You are no stranger to us, Thrall of Dunholde." Under Thrall's surprised gaze, Iska continued, "Many people have heard of Lieutenant General Blackmoore's orc pet." A growl escaped Thrall's throat, but he didn't lose his composure.He had heard of this title before, but saying it from his own people hurt him even more. "Of course, we've never seen you fight with our own eyes." Iska said again, with his hands behind his back, he slowly circled Thrall, sizing him up from head to toe. "Orcs are not allowed to watch gladiators fight. While you are being honored in the ring, your fellow man is being beaten and humiliated." Sal couldn't take it anymore. "I don't get any honor. I'm a slave, owned by Blackmoore, and if you don't think I hate him, look at this!" He unbuttoned his clothes to show them his back.They looked, and then, to Thrall's madness, they laughed. "That's nothing to see, Thrall of Durnholde," said Iska.Thrall realized what was happening; those healing salves were doing their magic so well.Even after Thrall was beaten up by Blackmoore and his men, not even a single scar remained. "You asked for our sympathy, but to us you now look healthy and whole." Thrall turned sharply.Anger filled him, and although he tried to control it, he had little success. "I'm an object, a prop. Do you think I got anything out of the blood and sweat I poured into the ring? Blackmoore made a ton of money while I was in the cell, and I was brought out just to Pleasing him. The scars on my body are gone now that I've found it. But the only reason to heal me is so I can get back in the ring and fight again to make more money for my master. Some scars are more deeply engraved y'all Is invisible. I ran away, I was caught in the detention center, and I came here to find Hellscream. Although I began to doubt his existence. Can I find an orc who can be used as an example, he will be like my mind It seems so far-fetched what my people should be in China." "Then, the orc who bears the name of slave, what should our people look like in your heart?" Iska mocked. Thrall breathed heavily, but maintained the self-control the sergeant had taught him. "They are strong, cunning, and full of power. They are feared on the battlefield. They have an unshakable will. Show me Hellscream, and he will find me worthy." "We're here to judge," Iskar said.He raised his hand, and the three orcs entered the cave.They began to put on their armor and search for various weapons. "Those three are our strongest fighters. They are, as you say, strong, cunning, and full of strength. They fight to kill or die, not like what you are used to seeing in gladiator rings .Your pretentiousness won't work here. It's real skill that will save your life. If you survive, Hellscream will agree to see you, otherwise not." Thrall stared at Iska. "He'll see me," he said confidently. "You better hope so. Go!" Without any further warning, the three orcs charged at the unarmed and disheveled Thrall.