Orcs: Bad Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

been nagging at me.”
    He went over to the dead body. Kneeling, he removed the amulet the man was wearing. Haskeer peered over Stryke’s shoulder
     as he examined it.
    The engravings etched into its surface were small, and they strained to make them out. They consisted of rows of symbols in
     groups of five. The symbols were circles with lines protruding at various angles. Stryke studied them for what seemed like
     a long time.
    “That’s it,” he finally announced.
    “What?”
    “See that third lot of figures? It’s the same as the way the stars have to be moved to get back here.”
    Haskeer did nothing to hide his incomprehension. “Is it?”
    “Looks that way. All these markings are different, and there’s a lot more than the three Serapheim showed us.”
    “You mean… that tells you how to use the stars?”
    “Yes. The messenger must have had it to help him remember. Like a map. I reckon this first line is how to get to Maras-Dantia,
     and the second gets you to that world with the orcs. The rest… who knows?”
    “That’s pretty smart, Stryke,” Haskeer stated admiringly.
    Stryke put the amulet around his neck. “Don’t get too excited; I could be wrong. But I’ve often wondered why Arngrim gave
     me the stars. Perhaps we know now.”
    “Think he planned this? From the start?”
    “Could be he was mindful of future trouble.”
    “And counting on us to deal with it.”
    “Who knows? Humans are two-faced.”
    “That’s no lie.”
    Stryke adopted a pensive expression. “There was something about the things he showed us. Did you notice? Not once were those
     orcs fighting back.”
    It hadn’t occurred to Haskeer before. “They weren’t, were they?”
    “And when did our kind ever turn a cheek?”
    “What’s
wrong
with ’em?”
    All Stryke could do was shrug.
    Haskeer pointed at the corpse. “And who killed him?”
    “I don’t know. But I’ve a mind to find out. You game?”
    Haskeer thought about it. “Yeah. If there’s a fight in it.”

3
    The summer afternoon had softened into early evening, the quality of the light mellowing from golden to carroty. A gentle
     breeze brought the sweet perfume of lushness. Tender birdsong could be heard.
    Eight or nine lodges stood together, along with a corral and a couple of barns.
    The settlement occupied the crest of a low hill. In all directions, the outlook was verdant. There were luxuriant pastures
     and dense forests, and the silver thread of a distant river marbling the emerald.
    In one particular lodge, a female was diverting her offspring.
    “In those days,” she told them, “a blight afflicted the land. It was a walking pestilence. A puny race of disgusting appearance,
     with yielding, pallid flesh and the nature of a glutton. An insatiable host that gloried in destruction. It tore the guts
     from the earth, plundered its resources and poisoned its waters. It spread disease and stirred up trouble. It threw away the
     magic.”
    Her offspring were rapt.
    “It felt contempt for other races, and revelled in their slaughter. But its hatred wasn’t directed solely at those who were
     different. It fought its own kind, too. There was warfare between their tribes. They killed when there was no good purpose
     to it, and all the other races were fearful of them.” She eyed the siblings. “Except one. Unlike the pestilence, they didn’t
     murder for pleasure, or wreak havoc for the sake of it. They didn’t lack nobility or honour, and weren’t hideous to look at.
     They were handsome and brave. They were —”
    “Orcs!” the hatchlings chorused.
    Thirzarr grinned. “You pair are too smart for me.”
    “We’re
always
heroes in the stories,” Corb reminded her.
    She tossed them each a chunk of raw meat. They gobbled the treats with relish, red juice trickling down their chins.
    “Are there any of those human monsters around here?” Janch asked as he chewed.
    “No,” Thirzarr told him, “not in the whole of Ceragan.”
    He looked