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was a large sack.
He paused for a moment, and then strode boldly up to her.  Taretha, he said, his voice deep and gruff.
She gasped and looked up at him. He thought her afraid, but then she laughed.  You startled me! I did
not know you moved so quietly! The laughter faded, settled into a smile. She strode forward and
reached out both hands to him.
Slowly, Thrall folded them in his own. The small white hands disappeared in his green ones, nearly three
times as large. Taretha barely reached his elbow, yet there was no fear on her face, only pleasure.
 I could kill you where you stand, he said, wondering what perverse emotion was making him say those
words.  No witnesses that way.
Her smile only grew.  Of course you could, she acknowledged, her voice warm and melodious.  But
you won t.
 How do you know?
 Because I knowyou . He opened his hands and released her.  Did you have any trouble?
 None, he said.  The plan worked well. There was so much chaos that I think an entire village of orcs
could have escaped. I noticed that you released the animals before setting fire to the barn.
She grinned again. Her nose turned up slightly, making her look younger than her  what, twenty?
Twenty-five?  years.
 Of course. They re just innocent creatures. I d never want to see them harmed. Now, we had best
hurry. She looked down at Durnholde, at the smoke and flames still billowing up into the starry sky.
 They seem to be getting control of it. You ll be missed soon. An emotion Thrall didn t understand
shadowed her face for a moment.  As will I. She took the sack and brought it out into the open.  Sit,
sit. I want to show you something.
Obediently, he sat down. Tari rummaged through the sack and withdrew a scroll. Unrolling it, she held it
down on one side and gestured that he do the same.
 It s a map, said Thrall.
 Yes, the most accurate one I could find. Here s Durnholde, said Taretha, pointing at a drawing of a
small castlelike building.  We re slightly to the southwest, right here. The internment camps are all within
a twenty-mile radius of Durnholde, here, here, here, here, and here. She pointed to drawings so small
even Thrall couldn t quite make them out in the poor light.  Your best chance for safety is to go here, into
the wilderness area. I ve heard that there are still some of your people hiding out there, but Blackmoore s
men are never able to find them, just traces. She looked up at him.  You ll somehow need to find them,
Thrall. Get them to help you.
Your people, Taretha had said. Notthe orcs , orthose things , orthose monsters. Gratitude suddenly
welled up inside him so powerfully that for a moment he couldn t speak. Finally, he managed,  Why are
you doing this? Why do you want to help me?
She looked at him steadily, not flinching from what she saw.  Because I remember you when you were a
baby. You were like a little brother to me. When . . . when Faralyn died soon afterward, you were the
only little brother I had anymore. I saw what they did to you, and I hated it. I wanted to help you, be
your friend. Now she looked away.  And I have no more fondness for our master than you do.
 Has he hurt you? The outrage that Thrall felt surprised him.
 No. Not really. One hand went to the other wrist, massaged it gently. Beneath the sleeve Thrall could
see the fading shadow of a bruise.  Not physically. It s more complicated than that.
 Tell me.
 Thrall, time is  
 Tell me! he boomed.  You have been my friend, Taretha. For over ten years you have written me,
made me smile. I knew someone knew who I really was, not just some . . . some monster in the gladiator
ring. You were a light in the darkness. With all the gentleness he could muster, he reached out and
placed his hand oh so lightly on her shoulder.  Tell me, he urged again, his voice soft.
Her eyes grew shiny. As he watched, liquid spilled from them and poured down her cheeks.  I m so
ashamed, she whispered.
 What is happening to your eyes? asked Thrall.  What is  ashamed ?
 Oh, Thrall, she said, her voice thick. She wiped at her eyes.  These are called tears. They come when
we are so sad, so soul sick, it s as if our hearts are so full of pain there s no place else for it to go.
Taretha took a shuddering breath.  And shame . . . it s when you ve done something that s so contrary
to who you believe yourself to be you wish that no one ever knew about it. But everyone knows, so you
might as well, too. I am Blackmoore s mistress.
 What does that mean?
She regarded him sadly.  You are so innocent, Thrall. So pure. But someday you will understand.
Suddenly Thrall recalled snippets of bragging conversations he had overheard on the training field, and
understood what Taretha meant. But he did not feel shame for her, only outrage that Blackmoore had
stooped even lower than Thrall had guessed he could. He understood what it was to be helpless before
Blackmoore, and Taretha was so small and fragile she couldn t even fight.
 Come with me, he urged.
 I cannot. What he would do to my family if I fled . . . no. She reached out impulsively and gripped his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]