Chapter Three: The Swamps of Sorrow

When William came to, he was flying. No, being carried, and beneath him, he saw the lands. He had just crossed the river, and his shoulders were gripped by two talon-like claws. If he started struggling now, at best, this thing would drop him, and he'd fall to his death. So he stayed still and said nothing in the freezing air, as the thing above him surged on.

A little way beyond the river, in the forest of Elywynn, the demon landed and set him down among orcs. William kept his eyes only a slit open, feeling his sword near him. The banner of the Blackrock Clan stood high, and many orcs were being tended to by their crude medicines. Some were weeping, strange for grown warriors.

These ones were kicked and beaten and told to act like men.

A particularly huge orc came forward toward the demoness, holding a huge, black hammer. William shifted his hand to his belt so they couldn't see. Good, he still had his sword.

"So this is him, then, Arraxia?" asked the orc.

"Yes, Orgrim," said the demoness. "This is Prince Varian, so far as I could judge."

"So far as you could judge?" asked Orgrim.

"It wasn't as though I had someone in the group to point him out," said the demoness, drawing up Varian's sword. "He bore this, however."

Orgrim took it, then glanced at William, who stayed very still. "...He wears two swords, does he not.

"No matter, bind him at once."

Two huge orcs went forward to grab him, and William knew now was his only chance. Rising up, he drew out his sword and slashed at the outstretched hand of the warrior. The blade cut three fingers off, and blood poured from the wound. The warrior howled in agony. William jabbed forward, driving his sword deep into the warrior's throat.

Drawing out the blade, he slashed at the second warrior, who flinched back and went for a curved sword. Seeing his chance, William made a run for it. Sprinting with all his might for the trees, he saw the river. Yet something lashed around his tail, and he fell forward. His sword flew from his hand and landed hard, and before he could rise again, he was pulled back. Looking up, he saw the demoness, who grabbed him by the hair and drew him up.

The orcish warrior lay dead on the ground in a puddle of his own blood.

And then someone punched him in the stomach. William keeled over and saw blood fly from his mouth, though the pain hadn't set in just yet.

"Human brat, you won't get away with this!" said the warrior, raising a dagger.

However, Orgrim grabbed him by the hand and hefted a huge hammer. "Kill him, and we lose our bargaining chip.

"The humans are weak, unwilling to sacrifice their own. He is of more value to us alive than dead."

"Believe what you will, cur! I am useless as your hostage!" spat William.

"Humans cling to their precious ideas of divine right," scoffed Orgrim. "Your father will give in to our demands once he knows we have you."

"You do not know who my father is, do you?" laughed William.

"You are Prince Varian Wrynn, are you not?" asked Orgrim.

"Then you are double the fool," said William. "I am William Gabriel, who has taken his place. Your hunting dog took the wrong target." If he was killed here, he could not be used as a hostage. Yes, William was afraid to die, but the orcs would kill him either way, and this way at least permitted a victory.

"What?!" said Orgrim.

The demoness burst out laughing as as she let go of William. "If you really think things through, Orgrim, this is actually entirely your fault."

"My fault? I dispatched you to seize the Prince!" said Orgrim. "The failure was yours."

"Yes, but you provided no means by which I could ascertain who the Prince was," said the demoness. "And I only had a limited window of opportunity to grab him, when you were to stage your little distraction.

"There were two boys, one with black hair like Duke Vanion. And one with blonde hair like Llane, who also bore the royal seal. I took that one. So my error, indeed it was an error, it entirely understandable.

"On the other hand, your assault would have allowed us to seize both if you'd succeeded.

"So yes, all of this is your fault, and I am blameless, as always.

"Wretched demon, I should kill you where you stand!" snarled Orgrim, hefting his hammer.

"Feel free to try, but I find dodging your blows rather tiresome," said the demoness. "Perhaps instead you could try whining to Gul'dan. I've heard he is actually mildly invested in the well-being of your adorable little mockery of an army."

"What of the boy, Orgrim?" asked a warrior. "Let me kill him!"

William stood up and looked around at the surrounding warriors, and did his best to look in control. Which was difficult since his insides hurt, and he was trying to heal them. "He is the son of Vanion Gabriel and may still be of use. Llane is powerful in his own right, but Vanion is a spineless weakling. We'll take him with us, back to Kyross.

"Make him walk." Then Orgrim glanced at him in what might have been some respect. ...You have more strength in you than your father, I'll give you that. Bind his hands and drag him!"

And so the journey began. William's hands were tied, and he was dragged behind the orcish column. They ran with tremendous speed and, as they did, picked up various stragglers. It became apparent that the army that Father had defeated was only a fraction of the forces in this area.

More and more joined then, and here and there, William saw what might have been orcish villagers being set up. These were always being built by far smaller orcs who worked with skill after their own fashion. Often these were beaten or whipped for moving too slowly. From what William could see, they worked quickly.

He also noticed another thing.

Many of the warriors who joined up with the column were... different. They had a body posture more like that of boys than men. There was none of the confidence and maturity, even if they were the same age. Usually, these were given orders and given all the worst jobs as if they were juniors to those their age.

Still, William noted that Doomhammer seemed more interested in colonization than conquest. Every so often, they would stop. Orgrim would order that messages be sent out for a given defensible location to have a settlement on it. He was obviously quite competent, and his kind held him in respect.

Even so, these stops were short and rarely left any time for real rest.

William was kept running nonstop, and his legs and lungs burned. He called on God to heal his injuries as best he could. However, it was slow going, and in the meantime, he was in a great deal of pain. Not that he showed as much, or complained at all. The demoness, meanwhile, flew above them, occasionally delivering messages for Orgrim. It seemed that her purpose did not lie in dark magic, but rather in her value as a courier.

Because she could fly quickly unseen, she was the means by which Orgrim could give orders with ease. If she were removed, they would have less of a problem. William thought of all these things and more, keeping a keen eye on everything. Once or twice, he came by areas where humans were being executed. Though the women were dragged off to worse fates in cages.

And, at last, they stopped.

"That's enough of a march, for now, put out the rations," said Orgrim. "We'll stop for a bit. Post double guards and no chasing any dwarves."

William sat down quickly, saying nothing and trying to work his hands-free of his bindings. Still, they were tight, and he could not loose them. He wondered if perhaps he could find something sharp.

Eventually, however, an orc came to William and offered him a stick of meat to eat from.

William said nothing. He would not be fed anything as though he were an animal. If they unbound his hands, he might consider it.

"Take it," snarled the orc.

William said nothing and looked at him.

"Well then, go hungry if you wish," snapped the guard. "My wolf will appreciate the meal."

And he made his way over to where a wolf was lying by the fire. He offered the meet, and the wolf fed it. William paid attention to this. It quickly became apparent that the orcs valued their wolves. Yet where human knights had a relationship of master and servant. Orcs seemed to view the wolves as equals.

Perhaps they were right.

Orcs certainly were beneath humans, so to consider themselves animals showed remarkable self-awareness.

Soon the journey continued. They walked into the Swamps of Sorrow, the grass gave way to blighted earth. Clear rivers became stagnant pools as the sky became tinged with fel energies. A smell came to William's nose, like sulfur, and he hated it. Yet he kept his eyes open, watched, and waited.

He would escape. Even now, he was working on loosening his bonds for when the time came.

And when he did, he'd have information for King Llane. Turning to Ogrim's forces, he began to count their numbers. From what he gathered, this seemed to be Ogrim's personal forces, all of them loyal to him. Other orcs they met on the road had to be threatened into making way, which meant Father had been right.

They were organized into clans, but even within those clans, there was dissent. Every warrior, in the end, followed their own commander.

And at last, they came to a town. Kyross, he heard the guards call it. From what he'd heard on the march, it was a major fortress. One that had been situated upon the frontier to protect against human counterattacks. Orgrim had built it while working under Gul'dan. William remembered was the head of the orcish Shadow Council.

In those days, Orgrim had been only a minor warband leader and considered not to be worth much. As it turned out, the very elements that had made Blackhand despise him as weak had made him strong. Ogrim was assigned to organize supply lines. It was a dishonorable duty that no warrior would want. But he'd done it. And he'd done it so well that offensives were able to continue without interruption.

And that had given Orgrim power, of a sort.

The fluid nature of the orc chain of command meant that Ogrim decided who got what supplies. A lesser warrior would have used this power to garner favors and hurt his enemies, but Ogrim had not. Instead, he sent supplies to whatever offensives he believed actually stood a chance. Thus, those who were of like mind to him tended to do well. While those who charged in without thinking suffered the consequences.

It had only become apparent how powerful Orgrim had become, however, until recently. Blackhand had made a public speech, demanding a new surge of attacks. A crusade on the weak humans that would wipe them away. Much enthusiasm had been fostered, and soon an immense attack had been launched. Orgrim had suggested more achievable goals and been ignored.

Except that the mass invasion Blackhand had envisioned hadn't happened.

William could tell as much from the conversations between the orcs. The fools didn't realize he spoke their tongue. From the sounds of things, all the war leaders were careful to consider Orgrim's advice. And now that they had taken Elywynn, they were largely just focused on consolidating their hold on it.

Orgrim hadn't given any commands, and no one had outright decided to disobey Blackhand. They just decided to take the victory and cut their losses after Vanion humiliated them.

William realized that their great victory would have been far greater if not for Orgrim. If the orcs had continued to try and attack, much the same scene would have happened multiple times. The orcs might have exhausted themselves in a costly assault. Even if they had broken through, they would have lost. They'd have had to siege dozens of different minor castles and been burned out. Then would have come to a counterattack.

It didn't take much to realize that Orgim was by far the most dangerous man in the Horde.

All of this went through his mind as they scaled the hill up to Kyross and entered. It was a large town, with many armed guards standing by on it. Before them was a small, bent orc, with red robes embroidered with gold. He had a staff in one hand with a human skull on end. The warlock, or so William guessed he was, was flanked by numerous red-skinned orcs of even greater size than Orgrim.

"Gul'dan," said Orgrim, falling to one knee. His tone held a note of hatred.

"Ogrim, you're here at last," said Gul'dan, who smiled but looked at Orgrim with contempt. "What news?"

"The Bonechewer Clan's expedition was a total failure," said Orgrim. "The idiots rushed across the river and ended up getting drunk. They left no guards. Llane was able to ambush them, and by the time I arrived, they were in full retreat.

"I managed to save some of the orcs from the river, but it was a rout. A bloody nose to remember when we make the proper crossing.

"Still, Elywynn is ours at last. There are some fortified settlements that are holding out against us, of course. The humans are fighting well. Still, the bridge is broken. The humans will have a hard time sending supplies. I've already posted a considerable guard on the other bridges. With our greater strength and numbers, this is our battle to lose."

"Good, with Kyross as a base, it should be a simple matter to begin raiding the river across," said Gul'dan.

Kyross as a base? William looked around and saw orcish peons loading supplies and piling them high. Others were taking supply wagons out the gates to a distant front, with many orcs running behind. This place was important, very important, indeed. If it were to be destroyed, it would probably throw the orc supply lines into chaos. That would delay their inevitable next assault, and also be a blow to Orgrim's credibility.

"Would it not be wise to secure Elywynn for farming first?" asked Orgrim. "Many of the peons complain of low rations."

"It is the purpose of the weak to serve the strong," said Gul'dan. "You know of our grand mission, Orgrim. We have not come to this world simply to conquer it, but cleanse it in the name of the Legion. The humans of Stormwind must be destroyed.

"Now, what to do with the boy?"

Gul'dan looked at William, and for the first time, William showed his fear. He'd heard many dark stories of the Shadow Council's behavior. Of young maidens taken and sacrificed in unholy rituals to summon demons. Looking up to Arraxia, he wondered how she had been summoned. At the moment, she was lounging on a building, sunbathing with her tail flicking. William focused on her unnatural beauty to distract himself from his potential fates.

"I believe he might be valuable as a bargaining chip," said Orgrim. "We could use it to get his weak Father to betray his kin."

Orgrim had no understanding of Duke Vanion. When King Terenas had demanded his submission, he'd gotten a flat refusal. This while holding Vanion's father captive. And Father could have more sons.

Still, it would be best not to say as much, William had only just finished healing his internal injuries.

"A wise policy," said Gul'dan. "Very well, I shall compose the threats. No harm is to come to him until we receive his answer.

"Take the fool to the cage we prepared for the Prince."

William was grabbed and cooperated willingly, saying nothing as he did so. He had gathered a great deal of useful information. Now he just had to stage an escape, cross miles of hostile territory, and reach home in time.

That part was going to be difficult.