for a good hour, but in all fairness, I must say that I never got confused even once, although the shaman was pushing me really hard. Eventually he got up and said, “Take it away, I’ve found out all I wanted to know.”
So saying, the orc set off toward the obelisk, and I was led back to Mis and Glo-Glo, who were at the other side of the clearing. Halfway across Fagred decided he wanted to play games—he started jerking on the rope and chuckling, and asking me if I wanted to play doggy.
“Come on, now, moth, say ‘woof’! That’s not too hard for you, is it? Oh, come on! Say ‘woof’!”
Every phrase was accompanied by a tug on the rope. I maintained a stoic silence.
“Bad dog! Bad dog! Say ‘woof’!”
“That’s enough, Fagred,” his comrade warned him. “This one might still be useful.”
“Shokren found out everything he wanted from him. Say ‘woof,’ moth, or I’ll have to punish you!”
“And when the time comes, who are you going to bet on?” Olag suddenly asked. “A greeny or a wounded monkey?”
Fagred frowned, thought for a while, and then nodded.
“Okay, you’re right, Olag. You don’t have to bark right now, moth. But your time will come soon. Ah, the eternal forest! That’s Bagard calling. Keep an eye on the monkey, I’ll be back in a moment.”
Fagred handed the rope to Olag and trudged off toward the commander of the orcs.
“Sit down,” Olag ordered, and set me an example by sitting on the yellow leaves that covered the ground.
I had to sit down. In theory, at this point I might have been able to handle the orc, one to one, but two things stopped me—the dagger that Olag took out as soon as his partner left, and the fact that we were in open view. They’d simply stick me full of arrows while I was running for the trees. So I had to sit beside the Firstborn and wait for Fagred to come back.
“You’re a silly little monkey,” Olag said unexpectedly. “Why couldn’t you have just played along with Fagred?”
“I don’t think of myself as a silly little monkey and I don’t want to amuse your friend.”
When I was talking to Olag I could get away with things I would never have said when I was talking to Fagred.
“Not a monkey?” the orc said, and a faint spark of curiosity lit up in his eyes. “Then who are you?”
“Me? Certainly not a monkey.”
“All men are monkeys!” Olag declared. “You’re worse than animals, you’re inferior beings, you’re a mistake of the gods, like the elves who appeared straight after us. This world should belong to us! We were its only masters until the inferior beings appeared. Yes, you can talk, but give me two months, and I’ll teach a raven to talk. Just because you can talk, it doesn’t mean you can think! All of you who have appeared on our land, you, who fell our forests and keep us out of our own land, you’re no better than stinking monkeys who’ve learned to talk and make weapons! A herd of crude beasts! If you weren’t here, Siala would be a much better place. We orcs are the first children of the gods. The superior race! Why should we share Siala with elves, who came to Zagraba when all the work had already been done, when we’d already run the last ogres out of here, losing thousands of orcs in the process? That was very convenient for the elves, wasn’t it? They’re cruel and cunning, they’ve made my brothers’ lives a misery, but sooner or later we’ll crush them. And as for men … You were the very last to appear; even the Doralissians, those brainless oafs with goats for mothers, arrived before you did! You appeared in our world, and we didn’t realize what a threat you were. We were fools. While we were fighting the elves and trying to drive the dwarves and the gnomes out of the accursed mountains, you spread all round the world, and then it was too late. All you can do is kill and destroy everything beautiful that there is in our world! Men are stupid little monkeys, and you won’t stop until you tear Siala into a thousand pieces, you’ll never have enough blood and wine to satisfy you!”
He paused for breath.
“It’s our duty to do everything we possibly can to stop you, to wipe the human race off the face of Siala, so that there isn’t even a trace of you left behind! And when the last of your children drowns in the ocean, we’ll come back and settle our accounts with the elves, and all the others who are your friends. If we overthrow you, then we can crush the others, too! What we failed to achieve in the War of Shame, we shall achieve now. While I’m talking to you, little monkey, the Hand is leading my brothers in arms out of our cities and soon, very soon, we’ll march out of Zagraba and we’ll march as far as Avendoom and Shamar, and then it will be the turn of the other lairs of men. We won’t leave a single stone standing, because there’s no place in our world for anyone like you. And what you brought here will help us in the battle!”
I listened carefully without speaking. A heartfelt speech from a true fanatic, but then, they were all fanatics. The orc’s eyes blazed with golden fire and he kept clenching the dagger, clearly preparing to use it, if I raised any objections. The Firstborn, the Firstborn. I wondered what he’d say if he knew about the Fallen Ones.
“And you animals, who have no sense of honor, demand admiration from us, you demand an alliance! You say we have to give you our forest, which belongs by right to the Firstborn, the first to come to Siala! How can you demand anything at all from us? How are you any better than animals? How? The elves deserve to die, although at least they know the meaning of honor and pride, but cattle like you simply deserve to die. Even your king’s own eldest son is insane!”
“Leave him, Olag,” Fagred said in a surprisingly gentle voice. He’d walked up while I was listening. “He won’t understand anything anyway.”
“No, he won’t,” Olag sighed, and tucked the dagger behind his belt. “Get up, moth, and remember—if you dare to open your mouth again before we reach your pen, I’ll cut your tongue out.”
But I wasn’t thinking of making conversation. I was alarmed by the very bad news the orc had let slip while he was talking. I was afraid that this autumn the Firstborn had decided to feel out the boundaries of the kingdom and launch a new Spring War.
14
The Labyrinth
Glo-Glo was wrong—the detachment of orcs we had been waiting for all this time didn’t arrive on the sixth day, but on the seventh, and only when evening was already drawing in.
With nothing to do, I was quietly going out of my mind, and I tried either to sleep (until Fagred’s boot drove sleep away), or to watch what the orcs were doing and observe their habits, until some fang-mouthed brute advised me (in the most polite manner possible, I hasten to add) that it was time to sleep. I couldn’t get what Olag had said out of my head—that after all these centuries of peace the orcs had decided to tickle the bellies of Valiostr and the Border Kingdom.
Well, the Border Kingdom might hold up, but the southern borders of my native Valiostr (with its slack garrisons, where the men didn’t know how to properly hold a sword) would falter and break, and the Firstborn would drive our army all the way back to the Iselina. It would be at least a week before the armchair generals gathered their wits and moved forces down from the north and Miranueh, and that was enough time for the orcs to cause catastrophic damage. And would we hold out, even if the army did arrive in time? Our only hope were the barons, like Oro Gabsbarg—and the towns like Maiding and Moitsig, which lay right beside Zagraba. Their walls could hold back the army of orcs for a little while. At least, I hoped so, I really hoped so.…
I hadn’t forgotten about the little flinny, either: If he had carried out my assignment and found my group, then help should already be hurrying on its way. The question was—would they get here in time?
Well then, about the detachment of orcs that arrived. In the early evening a bird called somewhere in the trees. The orcs sitting round the campfire and beside the obelisk pricked up their ears, and one of the Firstborn shouted in reply. A few moments later the orcs spilled out into the clearing. They just kept on coming, and when the last orc emerged from the trees, I had counted seventy-six of them. And they had prisoners, too.
Most of the prisoners were elves, but there were also four men, and they were all Border Kingdom warriors. When Mis saw them, he started in surprise.
“I know them! They’re lads from the garrison at Drunken Brook. How did they manage to get here? Maybe you’re right, Harold, and these subhuman monsters are already on the march.”
