Warcraft by Christie Golden

Author:Christie Golden [Golden, Christie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Titan
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

15

The other orc made as if to bow to Durotan, but the Frostwolf chieftain had risen and gone to him, gripping his forearms tightly. “Kovogor! By the Spirits, it is good to see you!”

“And you, Durotan. Chieftain, now,” Kovogor said. His grin was wide and his eyes were bright. He looked older, though Durotan supposed they all did; the years since the Frostwolves and Thunderlords had joined together to hunt had not been kind to anyone. But there was the calm patience in his mien that Durotan remembered. “Although it pains me to see the hardships the Frostwolves endure. With respect, Lorekeeper,” and he turned to Geyah, “I would speak of what I know of how the south fares, and how Gul’dan leads the Horde.”

Geyah nodded that he might proceed. As Durotan resumed his seat, Kovogor stepped forward and knelt in front of him.

“I once thought as you did. I sided with my chieftain when he was skeptical of Gul’dan’s magic, and when he talked of orcs forming a single, mighty Horde. It made no sense to us. Surely, we would overhunt an area. We would have quarrels. It could never work even in times of plenty, and in a time when every scrap of food was precious, it would be disaster.”

He looked over at Gul’dan. “Except… it did work. Not at first, certainly. There was many a mak’gora. But we found that we each knew different things. One clan knew how to make a call to summon boar. Another knew how to make white leather. We could teach throwing techniques,” and here he smiled knowingly at Durotan, “and share the knowledge that starflower—”

“—was good for sleep,” Draka interrupted.

Kovogor’s head turned to her, his face surprised and delighted. Geyah scowled. Draka had not been given leave to speak, but Durotan reached to cover his mate’s hand with his own. “My wife, Draka, understands what you say better than most,” he said.

Garona’s eyes widened as they flickered to Draka. The slave’s tiny fingers crept to her throat, touching the collar that encircled it, then she lowered her hand. Always before, Garona had seemed aloof, as if she were trying to distance herself from her situation. Now, she gazed with open curiosity at Draka, and, to Durotan’s surprise, a slight smile curved her thin lips. What is so interesting to her about Draka? Durotan wondered briefly before turning his attention back to Kovogor.

“Then Draka has likely told you of things that have been useful in this bleak time,” Kovogor said. “So it was with the Horde. We learned that the enemy was not another clan. The true enemy was starvation. Thirst. Violence directed at each other, not at solving problems. This understanding, this sense of unity, is what Gul’dan has given to us.” His eyes searched Durotan’s. “Do you remember, when we met, when our clans hunted together? I recall that time fondly.”

“As do I,” Durotan was forced to admit.

“I had never thought to enjoy the friendship of anyone who was not of my clan, but I did.

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