Chapter 7

Not long after sunset, when the cook fires were dying down, Veren Redmorning went back to the great hall. He met Kev'ran on her way out with a bucket of dirty water.

"Is she awake?" he asked.

"Yes." The bucket must be heavy, but the small Orc hefted it with ease. "You may not be able to see her until she moves. Shel'yin tells me that her people are able to make themselves invisible at night."

Veren pondered this. "Anything can become invisible at night," he said.

Kev'ran shrugged. "Even in the firelight, it is very difficult to see her."

"Thank you for tending to her," Veren Redmorning said. "I understand you have other work to do."

"It is my honor to serve," Kev'ran said. She bowed slightly and left.

She's almost as glum as Shel'yin. I should try and separate them whenever possible, Veren thought. Then he ducked into the dim interior of the hall and waited for his eyes to adjust. It happened quickly. This was the closest to normal lighting conditions on Outland to be found anywhere on Kalimdor.

The Elf sat up on the pallet, leaning against the wall by the fireplace. She had the blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, but it was difficult to tell there was anything in it. Veren could, if he squinted, just make out the outline of her head.

He considered dragging a seat over, to avoid sitting on the cold floor. No. She probably feels threatened enough without me towering over her. Veren sat cross legged on the other side of the fireplace, instead.

The Elf shifted position slightly, and her face snapped into focus. She was cleaner now, and seemed more alert. At least, as far as I can tell. Elves are hard to read. Their faces are too different.

"Good evening," Veren Redmorning said, when she did not seem about to speak. "Feel any better?"

"You demon Orcs," the Elf said. "All red."

She did not seem afraid. If anything, she sounded angry.

"We no longer serve Magtheridon," Redmorning said. "We left Outland to get away from the Stormrage."

"Demon Orcs cut Ashenvale," the Elf said. "Elves find you, they kill you."

"You'd kill us for cutting down trees?" Redmorning considered this. She's not too offended to sit by the wood fire. "How do you stay warm in the winter?"

The Elf lowered her head, staring into the flames. "I kill no one. I am Glaive. Blade is broken."

"You said that before. Who attacked you?"

"Sentinels," she said.

"Why?" Are they going to come looking for you? Fifty of us can't defend this camp against all the Elves in Ashenvale.

"Killed the Leafdancer. Not your word…" She frowned. "Teaches fighting…"

"You killed some kind of combat instructor?"

The Elf nodded. Veren tried not to be repulsed by her ridiculously inadequate chin. She can't help how she looks, and no doubt we're just as ugly to her.

"You're still in training? How old are you?" he said. "I thought Night Elves were ancient."

"Leafdancer was old," the Elf who called herself Glaive said. "I am…" She paused again, frowning. "Not good at Orc-numbers… Four tens and five? No matter now."

"Was it an accident?" Veren asked.

"Why you care?" Glaive looked at him suspiciously. "You cut me soon? Why not send for…" At this point she used a word which Veren had never heard.

"We're not going to cut you," he said, frowning. "And I don't know what a 'witch doctor' is."

"Not know you own ugly tongue," Glaive muttered. "Got no trolls?"

"Oh. Trolls," Veren said. "We had to kill a few when they attacked our scouts. Why would we go to them for help? From what my warlocks tell me, they even eat each other."

"You got no magic healers?" Glaive said.

"No. And I have to wonder what kind of people Night Elves are, if you believe torturing the wounded is normal behavior."

"You red Orcs," Glaive said sullenly. "Red Orcs killed Cenarius."

"This keeps making less sense as we go," Veren said. "Who is Cenarius?"

"Cenarius was," Glaive hunted for words again, scowling with concentration. "Sort-of god? Half-god?"

"He was a demigod?"

"Yes. Demigod."

Redmorning listened as she related the history of Grom Hellscream and the Warsong in her awkward Orcish. After this, she told him of the killing of the demon, and Warchief Thrall's alliance with Elves and Humans.

"I take it this alliance is over," Redmorning said. Glaive shifted again, then winced.

"Always fighting now. Sometimes I talk to spies when Leafdancer not looking, but I tell them not very much, and nothing they can use."

Her voice is failing again.

"You're tired," Redmorning said. "I'll come back tomorrow. Get some rest." He unfolded his legs and got smoothly to his feet. The Elf, huddled in her blankets, stared up at him.

"Why this matters? Why save me?"

"We are the Tattered Banner," Redmorning said. "We're alone in this place, and so are you. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you one of us for as long as you want to stay."

He left her there, curled up by the fire like a wounded animal.

Four Orcs stood outside the hall when he came out. Shel'yin was there, and Kev'ran, and Darksun and Bladeleaper. They clustered around a watch fire, arguing.

"What's going on?" Veren asked. Four pairs of eyes immediately looked in his direction.

"What are you planning to do with the Elf, Chieftain?" Darksun asked. "My warriors want to know."

"Everyone wants to know," Kerd Bladeleaper said.

"She will die if we turn her out in the snow," Kev'ran said fiercely. "She is hardly strong enough to stand."

"But what if the others come looking?" Lev demanded. "Even if we do turn her loose, they'll know where we are."

"I don't think there's any danger of that," Veren Redmorning said. "Her wounds were inflicted by her own people."

A ruminative silence followed this remark. Dark red skins shone in the light from the fire.

"I thought so," Shel'yin said.

"Apparently they left her for dead," Veren said. "She says it's because she killed her fighting instructor."

"How?" Kerd Bladeleaper said. "If the instructor wasn't better than she was, she had no business teaching."

"I'll bet she did it from behind," Lev said. Kev'ran glared at him. Redmorning observed that her eyes still showed no reflection at all, though Shel'yin's glowed green in the firelight.

"She didn't tell me how," Veren said, forestalling further argument among the four. "I'll talk to her further tomorrow, when she's had time to rest."

"And make up some more fairy tales," Lev muttered.

"That's enough," Veren said.

"You know we can't trust - "

"I said it's enough," Veren Redmorning said sharply.

Lev Darksun looked at his Chieftain's face. Redmorning's eyes were not flinty or steely. They did not flash, nor did they resemble fire in any way. They were black, and rather narrow. In the end, it made no difference at all. The clan had made Veren Redmorning their Chief for a reason.

"Yes, Chieftain," Lev said.