魔兽争霸官方小说:仇恨之轮-Cycle of Hatred(英文版)-第12部分

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immediately　went　for　the　stomach；　then　the　neck　again；　then　the　legs。　His　arms　were　a　blur　as　he　pushed　the　orc　
back　farther　and　farther；　giving　no　quarter；　barely　giving　his　foe　sufficient　time　to　even　parry　and　hoping　that
sooner　or　later；　that　parry　would　not　e。　

Suddenly；　a　sword　blade　seemingly　came　out　of　nowhere　and　slashed　at　the　orc　s　head。　The　cloak　was　rent　by　the
blade；　and　half　of　it　fell　off　to　reveal　the　angry　green　face　of　a　male　orc。　His　left　tusk　had　that　burning　sword
emblem　engraved　in　it。　

The　blade　in　question　belonged　to　Colonel　Lorena。　Strov　assumed　that　she　had　dispatched　her　own　foe。　

As　for　the　orc；　he　yelled　out　the　word　for　retreat　in　the　orcish　tongue；　and　then　they　all　yelled　the　phrase；　Galtak
Ered　nash！　　Strov　knew　many　languages；　including　those　of　the　orcs；　trolls；　goblins；　and　dwarves；　as　well　as　all
four　elven　dialects。　He　d　never　heard　that　phrase　before。　

His　foe　now　running　away；　Strov　turned　to　see　that　Ian　and　Mal　were　down　the　former　dead　with　his　throat　ripped
open；　the　latter　alive　but　with　a　leg　injury　but　besides　himself；　Lorena；　Jalod；　Paolo；　and　Clai　were　uninjured。　One　
of　the　orcs　lay　on　the　ground　as　well。　The　other　six　were　retreating；　two　of　them　bleeding。　

Strov；　Clai；　give　chase；　　Lorena　said　as　she　ran　toward　Mal。　

Clai　was　the　most　brutal　fighter　in　the　detail。　Strov　noted　that　his　fellow　private　had　a　great　deal　of　orc　blood　on　his
sword。　You　were　able　to　strike　flesh？　　Strov　asked　as　they　ran　in　the　same　direction　as　the　remaining　six　orcs。　

Nodding；　Clai　said；　Only　when　I　got　the　head　or　the　neck。　It　s　like　their　bodies　were　made　outta　smoke　or　
somethin　。　　

The　figures　had　all　gone　through　one　of　the　overhanging　willow　branches　that　almost　served　as　a　wall。　Only　a　few
paces　behind；　Clai　and　Strov　ran　through　to　find　　

nothing。　Of　the　orcs；　there　was　no　sign。　Even　the　blood　trail　of　the　two　injured　ones　was　gone。　The　ground　was
visible　for　half　a　league　it　was　impossible　for　the　orcs　to　have　gone　from　sight　in　the　time　available。　

Strov　stopped　short　and　took　a　deep　breath。　You　smell　that？　　

Clai　shook　his　head。　

Sulfur。　And　spices　thyme；　I　think。　　

Sounding　confused；　Clai　asked；　　So？　　

Magic。　Which　also　explains　why　they　couldn　t　be　stabbed。　　

An　almost　manic　gleam　in　his　eye；　Clai　asked；　　Demons？　　

Pray　not。　　Strov　shuddered。　Clai　was　but　a　youth；　a　recent　recruit　who　had　been　too　young　to　fight　the　Burning　
Legion。　His　eagerness　to　fight　demons　was　that　of　one　who　had　never　had　to　fight　any。　
　
Turning；　Strov　ran　back　through　the　leaves　toward　Lorena；　Clai　on　his　heels。　

The　colonel　was　kneeling　by　Mal；　along　with　Paolo；　the　latter　binding　Mal　s　wounds。　Upon　seeing　Strov　and　Clai；
she　got　to　her　feet　and　angrily　asked；　What　happened？　　

They　disappeared；　ma　am。　pletely　even　their　blood　trail。　And　there　s　the　stink　of　magic。　　

Lorena　spat。　Dammit！　　She　let　out　a　breath　through　her　teeth；　then　pointed　at　the　cloak　on　the　ground。　But　that
figures。　That　one　s。　　

Looking　closely；　Strov　saw　that　the　cloak　was　flat　on　the　ground。　Using　his　sword；　he　poked　the　garment；　which
disturbed　some　ashes。　Then　he　looked　back　at　the　colonel。　

Definitely　magic；　　she　said　with　a　nod。　

Ma　am；　something　s　familiar　about 　Then；　finally；　Strov　placed　it；　recalling　a　recent　conversation　with　his
brother。　That　s　it！　　

What　s　it；　Private？　　

When　last　I　was　home；　my　brother　Manuel　told　me　of　a　group　that　calls　itself　the　Burning　Blade。　Someone　tried　to
recruit　him　for　it　the　last　time　he　was　in　the　Demonsbane。　Said　they　re　looking　for　people　to　e　to　their　meetings
who　aren　t　happy　with　the　way　things　are；　but　didn　t　say　no　more　than　that。　　

Jalod　snorted。　Ain　t　nobody　happy　with　the　way　things　are。　Ain　t　no　reason　to　be　havin　　meetin　s　about　it。　　

Strov　thought　this　was　odd；　given　what　Jalod　had　been　saying　earlier；　but　did　not　respond　directly；　instead
continuing　his　report　to　the　colonel。　Ma　am；　the　orc　I　fought　had　a　sword　afire　carved　into　his　tusk。　　

A　burning　blade。　　Lorena　shook　her　head。　The　one　I　fought　the　one　that　turned　to　ashes　over　there　had　a　
burning　blade　of　his　own　dangling　from　his　nose　ring。　　

Clai　raised　a　hand。　If　I　may；　ma　am？　　Lorena　nodded。　One　of　my　foes　had　one　it　was　like　the　one　Private　Strov
fought；　ma　am；　on　his　tusk。　　

Dammit。　　She　looked　over　at　Paolo；　who　was　now　standing　over　Mal。　How　is　he？　　

Needs　a　real　healer；　but　it　ll　keep　till　we　get　back　to　Theramore。　　He　looked　past　Lorena　toward　the　main　part　of　
Northwatch。　I　wouldn　t　trust　no　infirmary　in　this　place；　ma　am。　　

Through　gritted　teeth；　Mal　said；　Second　that；　ma　am。　　

Fine。　　Sheathing　her　sword　without　wiping　it　down　Strov　assumed　she　d　do　it　once　they　were　under　way　in　the　
boat　Lorena　started　toward　the　docks。　Let　s　get　to　the　ship　and　give　him　some　of　my　whiskey　to　ease　the　pain
when　we　board。　　

Smiling　raggedly；　Mal　said；　The　colonel　s　a　generous　woman。　　

Giving　the　corporal　a　half　smile　in　return；　Lorena　said；　Not　that　generous　just　two　fingers；　and　no　more。　That
stuff　s　expensive。　　

Paolo　signaled　to　Clai；　and　the　two　of　them　picked　Mal　up；　keeping　his　wounded　leg　steady　while　they　carried　him；
each　on　a　side；　toward　the　docks。　Strov；　meanwhile；　picked　up　Ian　s　bloodied　corpse。　
　
Lorena　said　to　him　as　they　walked；　Private；　as　soon　as　we　re　back　in　Theramore；　I　want　you　to　talk　to　your　brother。
I　want　to　know　everything　possible　about　this　Burning　Blade。　　

Yes；　ma　am。　　

Seven　

T　he　stonewalled　room　that　housed　Thrall　s　seat　of　power　as　Warchief　of　the　Horde　was　chilly。　Thrall　liked　it　that
way　orcs　were　not　creatures　of　cold；　so　they　were　unfortable　here。　He　found　that　it　was　best　for　people　not　to
be　fortable　while　in　the　presence　of　their　leader。　So　when　the　place　was　constructed；　he　had　made　sure　the
stonework　was　thick　and　there　were　no　windows。　Illumination　was　provided　only　by　lanterns；　rather　than　torches；
since　they　gave　off　less　heat。　

Not　that　it　was　ever　so　cold　as　to　be　truly　unpleasant。　He　did　not　want　his　people　to　suffer　when　they　were　
petitioning　him；　but　nor　did　he　want　them　to　be　entirely　at　ease。　It　had　been　a　difficult　road　that　Thrall　had　traveled；
and　he　knew　how　precious　and　precarious　his　current　position　was。　He　would　therefore　take　advantage　of　every　
opportunity　he　could；　even　so　minor　a　one　as　keeping　his　throne　room　a　bit　on　the　cold　side。　

He　met　now　with　Kalthar；　his　shaman；　and　Burx；　his　strongest　warrior。　Both　stood　before　Thrall；　who　sat　on　the　
leather　chair　made　from　the　hides　of　creatures　Thrall　himself　had　slain。　

The　humans　are　still　in　Northwatch　Keep。　Last　we　heard；　a　ship　with　more　troops　was　showing　up。　Sounds　to　me
like　they　re　reinforcing。　　

Hardly。　　Thrall　leaned　back　in　his　chair。　Lady　Proudmoore　informed　me　that　she　was　sending　one　of　her　warriors
to　investigate　Captain　Bolik　s　report。　　

Burx　drew　himself　up。　They　don　t　trust　a　warrior　s　word？　　

Kalthar；　whose　green　skin　had　grown　pale　and　wrinkled　with　age；　laughed　throatily。　I　am　sure；　Burx；　that　they　trust
the　word　of　an　orc　as　much　as　you　would　trust　the　word　of　a　human。　　

Humans　are　cowardly　and　despicable；　　Burx　said　dismissively。　

The　humans　of　Theramore　are　no　such　thing。　　Thrall　leaned　forward。　And　I　will　not　hear　them　being　spoken　ill　of
in　my　presence　again。　　

Burx　stamped　his　foot。　Thrall　had　to　restrain　a　laugh　at　the　warrior　s　expense。　The　gesture　reminded　Thrall　of　a　
human　child　throwing　a　temper　tantrum；　however；　among　orcs；　the　action　was　a　legitimate　sign　of　displeasure。　For　
all　he　was　lord　of　the　clans；　there　were　times　when　Thrall　had　to　forcibly　remind　himself　that　he　had　not　been　raised
among　his　own　kind。　

This　is　our　land；　Thrall！　Ours！　The　humans　don　t　have　any　claim　to　it。　Let　them　go　back　across　the　Great　Sea　
where　they　belong　and　let　us　get　back　to　what　life　was　like　before　the　demons　cursed　us　away　from　all　foul
influences；　mortal　or　not。　　

Thrall　shook　his　head。　He　d　thought　these　arguments　had　ended　two　years　ago。　The　humans　occupy　the　harshest
land　on　Kalimdor；　and　precious　little　of　it。　We　didn　t　even　take　the　Dustwallow　Marshes。　Jaina　s　people

　　Jaina　？　　Burx　sneered　the