Lord of the Clans by Christie Golden Read Free Book Online Page B

Blackmoore had come to hate more than any other. “He was never supposed to see another orc, not until . . . now he knows, damn it. What were you thinking?”
    Sergeant bristled under the verbal attack. “I was thinking , sir, that if you didn’t want Thrall to see any other orcs, you might have told me that. I was thinking , sir, that if you didn’t want Thrall to see other orcs you might have arranged for the wagons carrying them to approach when Thrall was in his cell. I was thinking, sir , that — ”
    “Enough!” bellowed Blackmoore. He took a deep breath and collected himself. “The damage is done. We must think how to repair it.”
    His calmer tone seemed to ease Sergeant as well. In a less belligerent tone, the trainer asked, “Thrall has never known what he looked like, then?”
    “Never. No mirrors. No still basins of water. He’s been taught that orcs are scum, which is of course true, and that he is permitted to live only because he earns me money.”
    Silence fell as the two men searched their thoughts. Sergeant scratched his red beard pensively, then said, “So he knows. So what? Just because he was born an orc doesn’t mean he can’t be more than that. He doesn’t have to be a brainless brute. He isn’t, in fact. Ifyou encouraged him to think of himself as more human —”
    Sergeant’s suggestion infuriated Blackmoore. “He’s not!” he burst out. “He is a brute. I don’t want him getting ideas that he’s nothing less than a big green-skinned human!”
    “Then, pray, sir,” said Sergeant, grinding out the words between clenched teeth, “what do you want him to think of himself as?”
    Blackmoore had no response. He didn’t know. He hadn’t thought about it that way. It had seemed so simple when he had stumbled onto the infant orc. Raise him as a slave, train him to fight, give him the human edge, then put him in charge of an army of beaten orcs and attack the Alliance. With Thrall at the head of a revitalized orcish army, leading the charges, Blackmoore would have power beyond his most exaggerated fantasies.
    But it wasn’t working out that way. Deep inside, he knew that in some ways Sergeant was right. Thrall did need to understand how humans thought and reasoned if he was to take that knowledge to lord over the bestial orcs. And yet, if he learned, mightn’t he revolt? Thrall had to be kept in his place, reminded of his low birth. Had to. By the Light, what was the right thing to do? How best to treat this creature in order to produce the perfect war leader, without letting anyone else know he was more than a gladiator champion?
    He took a deep breath. He mustn’t lose face in front of this servant. “Thrall needs direction, and we mustgive it to him,” he said with remarkable calmness. “He’s learned enough training with the recruits. I think it’s time we relegated him exclusively to combat.”
    “Sir, he’s very helpful in training,” began Sergeant.
    “We have all but vanquished the orcs,” said Blackmoore, thinking of the thousands of orcs being shoved into the camps. “Their leader Doomhammer has fled, and they are a scattered race. Peace is descending upon us. We do not need to train the recruits to battle orcs any longer. Any battles in which they will participate will be against other men, not monsters.”
    Damn. He had almost said too much. Sergeant looked as if he had caught the slip, too, but did not react.
    “Men at peace need an outlet for their bloodlust,” he said. “Let us confine Thrall to the gladiator battles. He will fill our pockets and bring us honor.” He smirked. “I’ve yet to see the single man who could stand up to an orc.”
    Thrall’s ascendance in the ranks of the gladiators had been nothing short of phenomenal. He had reached his full height when very young; as the years passed, he began to add bulk to his tall frame. Now he was the biggest orc many had ever seen, even heard tell of. He was the master of the ring, and everyone