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knee. He patted her head, bade his teacher good night, and went to his own cave to sleep.
The days passed in a routine fashion. Thrall now spent most of his time studying with Drek Thar, though
on occasion he went hunting with a small group. He utilized his newfound relationship with the elements to
aid his clan: asking the Spirit of Earth for advice on where the herds were, asking the Spirit of Air to
change the course of the wind so that their scent would not betray them to the watchful creatures. Only
once did he ask the Spirit of the Wilds for aid, when supplies were running dangerously low and their
luck in hunting had taken a turn for the worse.
They knew deer were in the area. They had found gnawed tree bark and fresh droppings. But the canny
creatures continued to elude them for several days. Their bellies were empty, and there was simply no
more food left. The children were beginning to grow dangerously thin.
Thrall closed his eyes and extended his mind.Spirit of the Wilds, who breathes life into all, I ask for
your favor. We will take no more than we need to feed the hungry of our clan. I ask you, Spirit of
the deer, to sacrifice yourself for us. We will not waste any of your gifts, and we will honor you.
Many lives depend upon the surrendering of one.
He hoped the words were right. They had been couched with a respectful heart, but Thrall had never
attempted this before. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a white stag standing not two arms length in
front of him. His companions seemed to see nothing. The stag s eyes met Thrall s, and the creature
inclined its head. It bounded away, and Thrall saw that it left no trace in the snow.
 Follow me, he said. His fellow Frostwolves did so at once, and they went some distance before they
saw a large, healthy stag lying in the snow. One of its legs jutted out at an unnatural angle, and its soft
brown eyes were rolling in terror. The snow all around it was churned up, and it was obvious that it was
unable to rise.
Thrall approached it, instinctively sending out a message of calm.Do not fear , he told it.Your pain will
soon be ended, and your life continue to have meaning. I thank you, Brother, for your sacrifice.
The deer relaxed, and lowered its head. Thrall touched its neck gently. Quickly, to cause it no pain, he
snapped the long neck. He looked up to see the others staring at him in awe. But he knew it was not by
his will, but the deer s, that his people would eat tonight.
 We will take this animal and consume its flesh. We will make tools from the bones and clothing from its
hide. And in so doing, we will remember that it honored us with this gift.
Thrall worked side by side with Drek Thar to send energy to the seeds beneath the soil, that they would
grow strong and flower in the spring that was so near, and to nurture the unborn beasts, be they deer or
goat or wolf, growing in their mothers wombs. They worked together to ask Water to spare the village
from the spring snowmelts and the avalanches that were a constant danger. Thrall grew steadily in
strength and in skill, and was so engrossed in this new, vibrant path he was walking that when he saw the
first yellow and purple spring flowers poking their heads up through the melting snows, he was taken by
surprise.
When he returned from his walk to gather the sacred herbs that aided the shaman s contact with the
elements, he was surprised to find that the Frostwolves had another guest.
This orc was large, though from weight or muscle, Thrall could not say as the stranger s cloak was
wrapped tightly around him. He huddled close to the fire and seemed not to feel the spring warmth.
Snowsong rushed forward to sniff noses and tails with Wise-ear, who had at long last returned. Thrall
turned to Drek Thar.
 Who is the stranger? he asked softly.
 A wandering hermit, Drek Thar replied.  We do not know him. He says that Wise-ear found him lost
in the mountains, and led him here to safety.
Thrall looked at the bowl of stew the stranger clutched in one big hand, at the polite concern shown to
him by the rest of the clan.  You receive him with more kindness than you received me, he said, not a
little annoyed.
Drek Thar laughed.  He comes asking only for refuge for a few days before pressing on. He didn t
come with a torn Frostwolf swaddling cloth asking to be adopted by the clan. And he comes at
springtime, when there is bounty to be had and shared, and not at the onset of winter.
Thrall had to acknowledge the shaman s points. Anxious to behave properly, he sat down by the
stranger.  Greetings, stranger. How long have you been traveling?
The orc looked at him from under a shadowing hood. His gray eyes were sharp, though his answer was
polite, even deferential.
 Longer than I care to recall, young one. I am in your debt. I had thought the Frostwolves only a legend,
told by Gul dan s cronies to intimidate all other orcs.
Clan loyalty stirred inside Thrall.  We were banished wrongly, and have proved our worth by being able
to make a life for ourselves in this harsh place, he replied.
 But it is my understanding that not so long ago, you were as much a stranger to this clan as I, the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]