Lord of the Clans Read Online Free PDF Page B

and steered her away.
    Wondering what had just happened, Thrall turned back to the cheering men, and closed his large, green hand about another practice sword.

THREE
    A routine was quickly established, one that Thrall would follow for the next several years. He would be fed at dawn, his hands and feet clapped in manacles that permitted him to shuffle out to the courtyard of Durnholde, and there he would train. At first, Blackmoore himself conducted the training, showing him the basic mechanics and often praising him effusively. Sometimes, though, Blackmoore’s temper was sharp and nothing Thrall could do would please him. At such times, the nobleman’s speech was slightly slurred, his movements haphazard, and he would berate the orc for no reason that Thrall could discern. Thrall came to simply accept the fact that he was unworthy. If Blackmoore berated him, it must be because he deserved it; any praise was simply the lord’s own kindness.
    After a few months, though, another man stepped inand Thrall ceased to see Blackmoore regularly. This man, known to Thrall only as Sergeant, was huge by human standards. He stood well over six feet, with a thick barrel chest covered with curly red hair. The hair on his head was bright red, its tousled mop matched by the long beard. He wore a black scarf knotted around his throat and in one ear sported a large earring. The first day he came to address Thrall and the other fighters who were being trained alongside him, he had fixed each one with a hard stare and shouted out the challenge.
    “See this?” He pointed with a stubby forefinger to the glistening hoop in his left ear. “I haven’t taken this out in thirteen years. I’ve trained thousands of recruits just like you pups. And with each group I offer the same challenge: Rip this earring from my ear and I’ll let you beat me to a pulp.” He grinned, showing several missing teeth. “You don’t think it now, p’raps, but by the time I’m done with you, you’d sell your own mother for the chance to take a swing at me. But if I’m ever so slow that I can’t fend off an attack by any of you ladies, then I deserve to have my ear ripped off and be forced to swallow what’s left of my teeth.”
    He had been walking slowly down the line of men and now stopped abruptly in front of Thrall. “That goes double for you, you overgrown goblin,” Sergeant snarled.
    Thrall lowered his gaze, confused. He had been taught never, ever, to raise his hand against humans.And yet it appeared as though he was to fight them. There was no way he would ever try to rip Sergeant’s earring from his lobe.
    A large hand slipped underneath Thrall’s chin and jerked it up. “You look at me when I talk to you, you understand?”
    Thrall nodded, now hopelessly confused. Blackmoore didn’t want him to meet his gaze. This man had just ordered him to do exactly that. What was he to do?
    Sergeant divided them into pairs. The number was uneven and Thrall stood alone. Sergeant marched right up to him and tossed a wooden sword to him. Instinctively, Thrall caught it. Sergeant grunted in approval.
    “Good eye-hand coordination,” he said. Like all the other men, he carried a shield and was wearing heavy, well-cushioned armor that would protect his body and head. Thrall had none. His skin was so thick that he barely felt the blows as it was, and he was growing so quickly that any clothing or armor fashioned for him would soon be far too small.
    “Let’s see how you defend yourself, then!” And with no further warning, Sergeant charged Thrall.
    For the briefest second, Thrall shrank from the attack. Then something inside him seemed to click into place. He no longer moved from a place of fear and confusion, but a place of confidence. He stood up straight, to his full height, and realized that he was growing so quickly that he was taller even than his opponent.He lifted his left arm, which he knew would one day hold a shield heavier than a human, in defense