01. Little Brother

[moonshadows]

“If I am discovered missing, then that will alert someone that something is going on. They might find and attack you first. And my parents are still there. Blackmoore would take out his anger on them, I am sure. No, Thrall,” I say, shaking my head slightly, “my place is, and always has been, at Durnholde, even now.”

“Tari.” He places his huge hands gently on my shoulders, looking so sad and serious. “When I left, I took your letters with me. But when I got caught and brought to one of the camps, they were taken from me along with everything else except your necklace.”

My blood turns to ice, and the panic starts clawing at me.

“He already knows, Tari. If you go back, he’ll kill you.”

I want to say, I know, but if I open my mouth I’ll start screaming, and I won’t be able to stop. One of the other orcs says something in his own language, and Thrall’s eyes narrow.

“Tari? I’m going to bring you back with us. Nod if this is okay.”

Jerkily, my head bobs up and down, and I am swung easily into Thrall’s thick green arms. He and the other two orcs start running silently through the night and I lay my head on his chest and try to will the panic and terror away.

Some time later, I realize we are running through an enormous encampment full of orcs. Many of them call out to Thrall, but he does not stop until he reaches a large tent and the three of them slow to a walk and enter. Inside are another two orcs: a tall and lean one with fierce red eyes and flowing black hair and an old one with a white wolf at his side. Thrall sets me on my feet and the lanky orc scowls.

“Thrall, what is this? You bring a human woman into our camp? Couldn’t you have picked a better time to find a whore?”

Thrall growls, and the orc with red eyes looks slightly unsure of himself. “This is Taretha Foxton, the one who was kind to me. I owe her my life, and I am repaying that debt now.”

“The night before the attack? The human Blackmoore will be alerted!”

“He’s already been alerted. He knows she helped me escape and no doubt had her followed when she left. If I had let her return, he would have killed her.”

The terror and panic have faded, leaving me feeling hollow and numb. “I can be useful,” I say calmly as the red-eyed one opens his mouth to speak again. “I can tell you about the interior of the keep, and its defenses, and how many troops were there when I left at dinner.”

He gets right up in my face, even though he has to bend down to do so, but I do not flinch. “You would so easily betray your fellow humans? How can we trust that you will not betray us, too?”

“Grom…” Thrall growls warningly.

“I know Thrall. He will not murder innocents. I also know Blackmoore. He will do anything to fulfill his own sick desires. Between the two, I would rather side with Thrall, who has never hurt me.”

“…hurt you?” The red-eyed orc – Grom – looks startled. “This Blackmoore hurts his own kind, and a female at that?”

Rather than answer in words, I push back my sleeves and pull the neck of my dress open to show off some of the bruises.

“And you submit to this?”

“Grom!”

“He is the lord of the keep. If I were to disobey, he would beat me harder, then take what he wants anyway. Then he would punish my parents for my defiance. By pretending to enjoy his attentions, I protect my family as well as myself.”

“So you walked willingly into your slavery.”

“I hate him.” My voice is still steady, my eyes still dry. “I would like nothing more than to see him be put down like the rabid dog he is, not just for my own sake or for my family. Everyone around him suffers when he is angry. If you mean that I do not claw at his eyes and spit on him, then yes, I walked willingly into my slavery. Once he decided he wanted me in his bed, my only choices were to go meekly and be violated, or struggle and be beaten and violated anyway. For seven years I have blunted his temper with my body, buying some measure of peace with my humiliation.”

Grom stares at me, but it is the older orc who speaks.

“Tell me, child. Why do you feel so strongly towards Thrall? Why risk your life for him?”

“When they found him, he was just a baby.” A brief smile flits across my face. “He was too little to eat meat, and he was going to die. I asked my Da why didn’t they feed him milk, since he was a baby? My mother became his wet-nurse, since she’d given birth to my baby brother just a few weeks ago. I thought it was great that I had two little baby brothers. But my brother died of a fever, and Thrall was the only brother I had left. They took him away after a year, but I watched for him whenever I could.”

“Do you still see him as your little brother?”

I glance at Thrall, and find that he’s looking at me in astonished hope. It makes me smile, the hollowness inside me filling just slightly with warmth. “Of course.”

“I am Drek’thar,” the old orc says. “Shaman of the Frostwolf clan. Thrall’s clan. The things you have done were very brave, and very honorable. Should you wish it, I will perform the ritual of blood-bonding and make you his sister by the laws of his people.”

“Oh! Thrall!” The emptiness inside me shatters and I fling my arms around Thrall’s waist in a joyful hug. “You’re going to be my brother for real! …if you want to, that is,” I add belatedly.

“Of course, Tari,” he says, sounding just as touched. “But not tonight. We need the information you can give us about Durnholde. And there is something else that must be done.” He looks meaningfully at Grom.

“Taretha Foxton, I apologize for my earlier words.” He grins, looking very fierce indeed. “You should have been born an orc; you have a warrior’s heart. You will bring much honor to the Frostwolf, I can tell.”

Despite everything I have been through this day, I find myself smiling back at him. “Thank you, Grom. I only hope I prove your words true.”

 

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"Alright, that's as much as we can plan for tonight." Thrall stretches, fingers brushing the fabric of the tent easily. "Time to get some sleep. We'll be on the move before first light."

"Where's the girl going to sleep?" Grom asks, red eyes glowing in the dim light.

Whatever answer Thrall makes, I don't hear it. I have gone from terror to unnatural calm to resolute planning to exhaustion, and my head dips as sleep tugs at me. I don't realize I'm slipping sideways until a hand closes around my wrist and suddenly Blackmoore's face is before mine, teeth bared in a predatory grin, wine-soaked breath hot in my face and he reaches for my breast-

-and then I am back in the tent, staring into Thrall's worried blue eyes, his huge green hands gentle on my shoulders. Behind him, Grom is shaking one hand and wincing.

"Tari? Listen to me. Bin mog g'thazag cha, Tari. It means 'I will protect you'. They were the first words of orcish I ever heard. Bin mog g'thazag cha, Tari. I will protect you. Blackmoore will never lay a hand on you again. Bin mog g'thazag cha."

The repetition of unfamiliar sounds soothes me. I do feel safe with Thrall protecting me. Slowly, my blood thaws and panic releases me from its clutches and then I shudder, and he holds me as though I were a child.

"Demon's blood, Thrall, what did that dog do to her?" Grom crouches down, peering at me.

"I don't know," Thrall growls, holding me tighter.

Between the exhaustion and the broken calm already bleeding into me, I find myself detailing the abuses I'd suffered. The cruel words, the casual blows, the rough coupling. The drunken slurs and threats. The enraged beatings. The one time I dared speak back to him and was throttled until my world went black, and how he told me to say it was a cough and nothing more, and if anyone learned the truth he would cut out my lying tongue and split me open from neck to navel and leave me in the woods for the forest beasts to eat.

"You were right," Grom says when my words have all spilled out. "He is a mad dog. The world will be a cleaner place for his death.

"Bring me a blanket," Thrall rumbles. "She can sleep in my bedroll. I have slept on dirt often enough, it will not bother me."

Grom moves to the tent flap and barks an order. One of the orcs who accompanied us from Durnholde runs off and comes back with a bedroll. A quiet exchange, and the orc follows Grom inside the tent. He's bulkier than the Warsong chieftain, with most of his hair pulled up into a topknot and the rest a tangled mess.

"Golthak offers Taretha his bedroll," the red-eyed orc says curtly. "And says that he will sleep on the ground before the tent."

The new orc clutches the blankets in a way that reminds me of a nervous child, and a torrent of orcish pours from his mouth. Thrall's eyebrows go up in surprise.

"Tari, this is Golthak of the Shadowmoon clan. He has offered to be your bodyguard if you will have him."

"Bin mog g'thazag cha, Taretha," my hopeful protector says. "Sister...scared...died. You...scared...no die."

Grom eyes him. "We'll need to work on his common. Apparently he spent several years wandering the Lordaeron woods alone and only got captured recently. He had a sister who he says was scared like you, and she died. He wants to protect you because he couldn't protect her."

Somehow, I find it in me to smile. "Please tell him thank you for me, Grom. If Thrall trusts him, then I will, too."

"You will sleep here, then," Thrall says gently. "Snowsong will sleep in here with you, and Golthak will sleep outside."

"Snowsong?" I ask, but the  enormous white wolf that had been at Drek’thar’s side pokes its nose through the tent's opening and pads silently inside.

Thrall smiles gently. "Tari, this is Snowsong. She won't hurt you."

"She's beautiful."

The sounds of the night are strange in my ears, but reassuring. The bedroll Golthak provided is nothing like Blackmoore's bed, and the orc himself guards what passes for my door. Snowsong is curled around me as though I were a strange human puppy of hers. Even if I were not worn thin from this night's events, I would feel safe enough that no dreams intrude on my slumber.