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Northwatch； but Jalod s words put it to the front。
She wasn t sure what was wrong； precisely； but she intended to find out。
As they marched toward the edge of the clearing； Private Strov made sure to keep Sergeant Jalod in his sight at all
times。 He wasn t sure what had gotten into the old buzzard； but Strov didn t like it； not one bit。
It was one thing to plain about the orcs。 That was to be expected； given the history； though Strov himself
generally thought of the orcs as victims of demonic influence。 Made as much sense to hate them as it did Medivh；
and he was revered as a hero despite what the demons did to him。 Still and all； he could see why some might view
the orcs with animosity。
But Lady Proudmoore？ The only ones who had reason to think ill of her were the Burning Legion and those that
were sympathetic to their cause。
Jalod was never one to express such feelings in the past。 Which led Strov to think that perhaps the sergeant was
losing his marbles。 Nothing wrong with that it happened to the best of people but it could endanger them。 One
of the things they drilled into you in training was that you had to rely on the people in your unit。 Strov wasn t sure
he could rely on Jalod anymore。
So intent was he on keeping the sergeant in his sight line at all times； Strov was slow to pick up on something he
should have noticed earlier。 The trees and rocks； along with some storage sheds used for Northwatch； provided an
almost circular border。 As they neared the circle s edge； Strov saw four figures in cloaks hiding behind the storage
sheds； the trees； or the rocks。 They were well concealed； but Strov had a keener eye than most。
Ambush！
At Strov s cry； all seven of them got into a fighter s crouch and unsheathed their swords。 Simultaneously； seven
figures Strov had missed three of them leapt out from cover。
The figures were massive； their cloaks doing an inadequate job of hiding the fact that they were orcs； though doing
a fine job of hiding any distinguishing features they might have had。
Strov noticed something else as he parried the club that was swinging toward his head： the cloaks had an emblem
on the breast of a sword on fire。 That was familiar to Strov； but he couldn t take the time to follow up on the
thought just at the moment； as the becloaked orc was doing everything possible to end Strov s life。
The orc swung the club thrice more； and all three times Strov parried； but on the third he also stepped in and kicked
the orc in the stomach。 Not expecting such an attack； the orc stumbled； and Strov thrust at it with his sword。
However； the orc had the wherewithal to block the thrust with its club。
Unfortunately for the orc； this put Strov on the offensive。 He kept ing with different thrusts and strikes； hoping
to catch the orc unawares； but his foe was well trained and had amazingly fast reflexes and was now ready for
additional kicks or punches Strov might deliver。 Many humans； Strov knew； relied wholly on their weapons to
fight； but Strov had always preferred to use his entire body。
Strov thrust low； hoping that the orc would parry low enough to open up for a strike to the head。 However； the orc
anticipated； and only held the club with one hand； the other hand raised and protecting its face。
So Strov kicked down at the orc s leg。
The kick wasn t hard enough to break any bones； but the orc stumbled and waved both arms to keep its balance。
That gave Strov the opening he needed to run the orc through the chest。
Or so he thought。 The sword managed to perate the cloak easily enough； about halfway up the blade； but Strov
felt no peration of flesh； and when he yanked his sword out which took more effort than expected there was
no blood on the blade。
Strov gritted his teeth； refusing to let his surprise at not scoring first blood distract him from his foe； who was now
standing steady once more。
Taking a deep breath； Strov moved in and refused to let up。 He swung at the orc s neck； which was blocked； then
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 name。