The wind carried the scent of gunpowder and blood. The sky, heavy with dark clouds, seemed to hang low over the city. The moon barely pierced through the darkness, casting long shadows on the stone walls.
Lenor stood atop the walls, his gaze fixed on the smoldering remains of the tents that had once belonged to the horde. His body ached with exhaustion, but there was no time for rest.
He took a deep breath, scanning the city's panorama one last time before heading along the walls. Grimtar was already waiting for him. The orc stood with his arms crossed, watching the enemy camp.
—"They've strengthened their defenses in the west," Grimtar said, not even turning to Lenor.
Lenor stopped beside him, nodding as he assessed the camp. The orcs were still awake. After the chaos of the day, they tried to recover, but fatigue gnawed at their bodies. The guards were twice as vigilant.
—"We need to act tonight," Lenor said. "We'll repeat yesterday's operation."
Grimtar finally glanced at him.
—"That won't work," he replied. "They're learning. If we attack the same way, they'll be ready."
Lenor pressed his lips together.
—"What do you suggest?"
Grimtar fell silent for a moment, then spoke.
—"A long-time friend of mine—he's the leader of one of the clans. He'll betray the horde. But his tent is right in the heart of their camp."
Lenor turned his gaze to the orc.
—"If we send him the message and his people switch sides, we can create chaos inside the horde."
Lenor thought for a moment. The idea was risky, but if it worked, it would change everything.
—"How will we send him the message?"
Grimtar sighed.
—"Orcs aren't as primitive as you think. We have writing. But the question isn't whether we can write. The question is how to deliver it without raising suspicion."
Lenor ran his hand across his chin.
—"We need someone who can do it silently."
Grimtar nodded.
—"Exactly."
Lenor looked at him, then suddenly smiled.
—"Call for Lianel."
Grimtar raised an eyebrow.
—"You want to bring her arrow into play?"
Lenor smiled even wider.
—"You'll see for yourself."
Grimtar nodded and signaled to one of the guards.
Lenor and Grimtar descended from the walls and made their way to the makeshift command center in the heart of the city. The square was lit by campfires, around which warriors rested. A few commanders were already waiting for them.
Lianel and Selina stood slightly apart but immediately approached when they saw Lenor. Naira was already there, silently staring into the fire.
—"We have a chance to strike a blow that will tear the horde apart from the inside," Lenor began, looking at those gathered.
Grimtar bent over the table, on which a map of the orc camp was spread out. He pointed to the center.
—"Here is my friend's camp. His clan is strong, but they don't trust the chieftain. He's been wavering for a long time, and if we send him the message, he'll rally his people against the horde."
Lenor studied the map.
—"The problem is that his tent is almost right next to the chieftain's camp."
Grimtar nodded.
—"Exactly. They're under close watch. If we send him the signal, we'll only have one shot."
Lenor ran his hand across his chin.
—"Do orcs use writing?"
Grimtar looked at him challengingly.
—"We're not savages. We have writing, and my friend can read it."
Lenor turned his gaze to Lianel.
—"Can you do it?"
The elf stepped closer, studying the map.
—"What are the distances? What's the wind like? What do I need to know?"
Grimtar explained:
—"His tent is easy to recognize—there's a wolf symbol on it. Every night, one of the patrols passes by. If you can make the arrow kill him and drop him into the tent, my friend will understand."
Lianel smiled.
—"A precise shot to the head? This will be interesting."
Lenor turned to Grimtar.
—"What will you write?"
Grimtar took a piece of leather and began writing without a word.
At that moment, Naira approached. She looked troubled, but there was no fear on her face.
—"Everything that has happened can be forgotten, or I will accept the punishment from the horde as it is due," she said calmly.
Lenor sharply raised his head.
—"What? Punishment?"
Grimtar also looked at her in surprise, then smiled.
—"There will be no punishment."
Naira narrowed her eyes.
—"What? Why?"
Grimtar crossed his arms over his chest.
—"We performed the ritual. We changed. And everything has changed. But you are the woman of the one who gave us everything we have. You are as important to us as he is. We respect you as much as him, and your words carry weight for us."
He slowly bowed his head in respect. The higher-ranking orcs standing nearby mimicked his gesture.
Naira flinched slightly, as though pierced by a cold wind.
—"Lift your heads! I am as much a slave as you!" She began, but then faltered. "And Kano, he…"
Lenor quickly interrupted her:
—"Kano is the chieftain and the leader. And if he chose women, then he considers them worthy of himself."
The orcs answered in unison:
—"Yes!"
Lenor stepped forward and quietly said, so only Naira could hear:
—"Don't even think about making him weak in their eyes."
Naira swallowed and nodded.
Lenor turned again to Grimtar.
—"Are you finished?"
Grimtar quickly glanced over the text and handed the note to Lenor.
—"Take all your people who want to leave the horde, and move to the western edge. We'll raise you up on the walls, but be careful not to engage in a fight. We can't save you if it happens. Start at the first sign of trouble."
Lenor read the note and nodded.
—"Good plan."
He handed the note to Lianel.
—"Get ready. We need one shot—perfect."
Lianel silently tied the note to an arrow and adjusted the bowstring.
Lenor turned his gaze to Grimtar.
—"Now we wait for the moment."
The fire crackled, casting red glows on their faces.
The night wrapped the city in thick darkness. Only experienced archers stood on the walls, each knowing that no unnecessary movement could be allowed. Even the smallest sound could reveal their presence.
Lenor, Grimtar, and Lianel stood by a loophole, staring into the orc camp. The fires were already dying down, leaving only glowing embers.
Lianel calmly wound the leather strap around her fingers, checking the tension of the bowstring.
—"When?" she asked quietly.
Grimtar pointed a finger at a small group of patrolling orcs moving between the tents.
—"There they are. Wait until one stops by the entrance to the tent with the wolf symbol."
Lianel nodded.
Lenor took the note and glanced at the text again. He didn't like relying on chance, but here everything depended on the precision of one shot.
—"If anyone notices that the patrolman was killed," he whispered, "everything will fall apart."
Lianel calmly took the note, tied it to the arrow, and raised the bow.
—"I won't miss."
Grimtar watched the movement of the patrol carefully. They moved at a steady pace, their shadows blending with the darkness. Finally, one of them stopped right by the entrance to the tent.
Lianel took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Her fingers pulled the string taut, and the bow shuddered slightly with the tension. The wind was minimal.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The shot.
The arrow sliced through the night's silence, flew between the tents, and struck the patrolman straight in the head. His body jerked and fell backward into the tent like a sack of grain.
A deep silence followed.
Lenor tensed, watching the tent.
After a few seconds, something stirred in the darkness—two hands grabbed the patrolman by the legs and dragged him inside.
No one noticed anything.
Grimtar exhaled.
—"He understood."
Lenor slowly removed his hand from the hilt of his sword.
—"Now we wait for the response."
Lianel lowered the bow and smiled.
—"I told you—I won't miss."
Lenor glanced down into the darkness of the camp. The night was still calm, but he knew—this was the last silence before the chaos.