《魔兽争霸官方小说:仇恨之轮-Cycle of Hatred(英文版)》

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魔兽争霸官方小说:仇恨之轮-Cycle of Hatred(英文版)- 第20部分


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The orc city was built within a huge ravine; with traditional hexagonal structures built into the sides of the ravine as
well as the recesses。 As he walked through the Valley of Honor; where the gate was built; toward the Valley of
Wisdom; where Thrall s throne room was housed; Rexxar was both fascinated and appalled。 The former because
the orcs had e so far in a mere three summers。 The latter because it was yet another city in a world that had too
many of them already。 

When he was about halfway to the Valley of Wisdom; he was met by the familiar site of a mediumheight orc:
Nazgrel; the head of Thrall s security; along with four of his guards。 Greetings; last son of the Mok Nathal。 It has
been far too long。  

Out of respect; Rexxar removed his headgear。 Since seeing you; Nazgrel; yes since being in the city; no。 But I 
did swear an oath to Thrall; and I would not leave this noble warrior to die in the grass。  

Nazgrel nodded。 We have e to escort you to him and the shaman has been summoned as well; to tend to
Byrok。 We ve also e to relieve Misha of her burden。  At a gesture from Nazgrel; two of the guards lifted the
bleeding form of Byrok from Misha s back。 At first; the bear started a growl; but at a look from Rexxar; she backed
down。 
 
They proceeded through the long and winding roads of rimmar to the large hexagonal building at the far side of
the Valley of Wisdom。 Thrall was waiting for him in the throne room; which Rexxar found to be as cold as
Frostsaber Rock。 Thrall sat on his throne; with the wizened shaman Kalthar standing on one side of the throne; and
an orc Rexxar did not know on the other。 When the guards had placed Byrok on the floor in front of the throne;
Kalthar moved to kneel at the warrior s side。 

Shivering slightly; Rexxar saluted the Warchief。 I bid you greetings; Warchief of the Horde。  

Thrall smiled。 It is very good to see you again; my friend I only wish it would not take one of my people being 
beaten to neardeath to bring you back to rimmar s gates。  

It is not my way to live among citydwellers; Warchief as you well know。  

Indeed; I do。 Still; you have again done us a great service。  He turned to the shaman。 How is he?  

He will survive he is a strong one。 And he wishes to speak。  

Can he?  Thrall asked。 

Kalthar sniffed。 Not well; but I doubt he will allow me to treat him properly until he does。  

I must…sit up…Help me; shaman。  That was Byrok。 He sounded stronger than he had in the grasses; but not by 
much。 

With a huge sigh; the wizened orc gestured to Nazgrel s guards; who helped Byrok into a sitting position。 

Hesitatingly; pausing many times for breath; Byrok spoke of what happened to him。 Rexxar knew nothing of the 
Burning Blade; but the others did; apparently it was an old orc clan。 

This can t be the same thing;  the orc Rexxar did not know said。 

It does seem unlikely; it s true; Burx;  Thrall said; but if their symbol is the same

Burx shook his head。 It could be a coincidence; but I don t buy that。 Besides; I ve been hearing rumors about a
human cult that s been building up in Theramore。 They re called the Flaming Sword。 It might be that one of them
had some of our people as slaves; learned of the symbol that way; and took it for their own use。  

Nazgrel nodded。 I ve heard some of those rumors as well; Warchief。  

With respect;  Kalthar said; I must treat this man。 He has discharged his duty; now I must take him from this
ridiculously cold throne room and heal him。  

Of course。  Thrall nodded; and; at the old shaman s direction; the guards took Byrok out of the throne room。 

Thrall then got up from his animalskin throne and started to pace。 What do you know of this Flaming Sword;
Nazgrel?  

Nazgrel shrugged。 Very little humans gathering in their homes to talk about things。  

Burx sneered。 Sitting and talking are things the humans do quite well。  

But if they are brash enough to attack an orc within Durotar s borders;  Nazgrel added; then they ve bee a lot 
more powerful than we thought。  

We ve got to respond;  Burx said。 It s only a matter of time before the humans attack us。  
 
Rexxar thought this extreme。 You would condemn an entire species on the actions of six of them?  

They d do the same to us in a heartbeat;  Burx said。 And unless these are the same six who stole our trees; and 
who stood around and did nothing while orc traders were attacked; then it is very much more than six people。  

Thrall turned to face Burx。 Theramore is our ally; Burx。 Jaina would not allow such a thing to gain power。  

She may not have any control over this;  Nazgrel said。 For all her power; for all she has earned our respect; she is
but one human female。  

Rexxar remembered Jaina Proudmoore as the only honorable human he d ever met。 When faced with a choice 
between siding with her father; her very flesh and blood; and honoring a promise to an orc; she chose the latter。
That choice saved Durotar from being destroyed before it was finished。 The Lady Proudmoore;  he said; will do
what is right。  

Shaking his head; Burx said; Your confidence is touching; Mok Nathal; but misplaced。 Do you really think that a 
woman can change decades of human evil? They fought us and killed us and enslaved us! Do you think that will
change just because one person says so?  

The orcs changed because one person said so;  Rexxar said quietly。 That person stands before you now as
Warchief。 Do you doubt him?  

At that; Burx backed down。 Of course not。 But

Thrall; however; had obviously made his decision。 He sat back down on the throne; refusing to let Burx finish。 I 
know what Jaina is capable of; and I know her heart。 She will not betray us; and if there are vipers in her midst;
both the Horde and the most powerful wizard on the continent will deal with it together。 When she has finished
with the thunder lizards; I will speak to her of this Flaming Sword。  He turned and looked right at Burx。 What we 
will not do is go back on our word to the humans and attack。 Is that clear?  

Yes; Warchief。  

Ten 

S trov had been sitting in a dark corner of the Demonsbane Inn and Tavern for an hour when his brother Manuel
walked in with four of his fellow dockworkers。 

At Colonel Lorena s direction; Strov had spoken with his brother about the Burning Blade。 Manuel said he hadn t
seen the person who tried to recruit him since that first time; but the last few times he d gone to the Demonsbane;
he d overheard a weaselly little fisherman named Margoz mutter to himself about the Burning Blade; usually after
consuming several corn whiskeys。 Strov had been hoping for the original recruiter Manuel had told him of weeks
earlier; but Manuel insisted that the man hadn t appeared at the Demonsbane since。 

Manuel had never been any good at describing people; the best he could do regarding Margoz was weaselly;  and
that word described half the Demonsbane s patronage。 But Manuel insisted that he could find the man again if he 
saw him; and said he would e to the Demonsbane after his shift on the docks was done。 

Strov arrived early; taking a seat in the corner; wanting to blend into the background o
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