Tauren Tale, Chapter 4
#4 of Tauren Tale
Time slowed and they continued to slide helplessly down the icy passage for what seemed like hours. Each bump along the way found a knee, or an elbow, or a forehead. They screamed in unison until their voices grew hoarse.
Then they erupted from the tunnel into bright daylight, and skidded to a stop down a hillside of small, grey stones.
"Ow," Jorga moaned.
Ow, indeed. "Are you okay, kiddo?" Sanja whispered.
"I feel like I was trampled by herd of kodos," he groaned.
She felt much the same. She closed her eyes and rested her head for a while before trying to stand up. They had been so wet, so soaked to the bone, that the summer sun was a blessed relief.
"Where are we?" her brother said.
Sanja sat slowly up and got her bearings. Something didn't smell right, but her nose was still bleeding from rough trip down. She figured that had thrown off her sense of smell.
The tunnel had been some sort of water channel from the stream at the top of the plateau down through the mountain and out towards the valley floor. In fact, they had fallen so far that they were almost at the bottom now.
But where there should have been lush, green fields; there were none. The land was grey and barren for as far as the eye could see. Scraggly scrub were the only signs of life.
The valley was rocky and desolate. This was no prairie. They had emerged into the desert somehow.
"No!" she gasped. "We can't be in Desolace."
Sanja climbed to her knees and looked back up the mountain; back at the knife-edge peaks of the Thunderhorn mountain range. The tunnel had led them through the mountain, not just down it.
They were on the wrong side! The wrong side of a mountain range that had sheltered Mulgore for aeons. Mountains which were just as impenetrable as they were breathtaking.
She scrabbled a few yards up the gravel slope in disbelief. "No." She looked to the left and to the right for any sign of a path or a pass, but there were none. "How are we...?"
Behind her, Sanja heard an unfamiliar moan. She snapped her head around to see Theodore climb to his feet. He looked pretty rough. He must have been in the descending tunnel when the trio came barreling down behind him.
He saw her and looked away. As if nothing had happened, he started walking casually down the slope toward the valley floor.
Although a wiser Tauren would have let him go, the flames in Sanja's head would not allow it. She had never been as angry as she was now. She charged at his back and shoved him down the slope with both hands. "Néchi!" she yelled at him.
Theodore tumbled down the slope and rolled easily to his feet, facing the girl.
Shoving him had felt good, but it had done little to put out the fire. She had never raised her knife in anger before, but she definitely wanted to now. She glanced down at her hip. The sheath was still there, strapped to her belt, but the handle had been broken away from the blade at some point in their fall.
Seeing that she was no threat, the rogue turned and walked away; but she chased after him. "You lied to us! You said you were going to help get us out, and then you left us to die!"
The man glanced over his shoulder. "I don't owe you anything."
Sanja felt like her head would burst. "You don't owe us? I saved your life!" she shouted. "I could have left you there on that cliff to be eaten by bugs and carrion birds. Why would you say such a thing? Why wouldn't you help us?"
"Why?" He snapped his head around. "Because you're Horde scum, that's why. Even if it would have been the end of this cursed existence, I didn't ask for your help. I owe you nothing!" he screamed.
Sanja was stunned beyond words. She had always lived a sheltered life; a life some would call "idyllic". Oh sure, she had known people that she didn't like; petty people, mean people. But never before had she ever encountered someone that she would call evil.
She wanted to walk away from this horrible man, but she was worried for herself, and for her brother. She started to doubt that he could really be as bad as she feared. "Let's forget about the past. Okay?"
She gave him the nicest smile that she could manage. "Would you mind, at least leading us to a Horde-controlled town?" She tried not to sound desperate, but it was hard to keep it from her voice. "Anywhere that we could get some help getting back home?
"A Horde-controlled town?" he barked a laugh. "In eastern Desolace? Are you mad?"
"I am not mad!" she shouted. She searched her memories of the tales that Elizabeth had shared. "I've heard stories of an outpost... Ghost... Point?"
"Ghost Walker Post?" Theodore looked around and grinned as if she had told a joke. "Ghost Walker Post has fallen! The very spire it was built on crumbled to the valley floor." He made a gesture with his arm to mock the tragedy of it falling.
"The Night Elves control all of central Desolace now," he sneered. "Long live the Alliance!"
Why was she still talking to this man? "There must be... Look, I know you don't want to help us, even though we've never done you any harm, but there must be something... some assistance you could offer us... something?"
She put her ears back up and straightened her back. She had been taught her entire life to treat others with respect, but she would not be submissive to this man.
"Assist you?" He grinned and his grey eyes narrowed to slits. "You bet. Directly south of here are the warlocks of Shok'thokar. You can head down there..." he crossed his arms, "if you'd like them to peel all of your skin off, and then sacrifice you to their demon lords."
Sanja felt the weight of the world crushing down on her. Not because of this vermin of a man, but because it was her responsibility to take care of her little brother. How was she supposed to do that here? She was no warrior, no tracker. She had precious few supplies, no map, no directions...
"No?" he asked with a snide tone. "Well, there is a large road that runs across Desolace. I'm headed there now. From here, I'd guess that it's a four day walk... straight across Magram territory."
Icicles shot down Sanja's back. "Magram territory? We're in Magram territory?"
He was grinning again. "It sure is, as far as the eye can see."
"Who are the Magram?" a squeaky voice beside her asked. She turned to look at Kazbo. He looked muddy, but largely unscathed from their slide.
"Centaurs..." she explained in a low voice. "The Tauren and Centaurs have been mortal enemies since the world was first formed."
"Aw, don't cry," the rogue mocked. She hadn't been, but the jab still stung. She was definitely scared for their safety. "Hey, I'm headed to Nijel's Point. You're more than welcome to come with me."
She stared daggers at Theodore, but didn't trust her voice.
"I'll be glad to escort you all the way there... and then sell you into slavery. You can live out the rest of your days toiling in the fields, and growing the crops that will feed Alliance soldiers."
She could feel the blood pounding in her ears. She tried to relax her hands, but they remained fists.
"You will sleep comfortably on dirt floors, knowing that your sweat and blood are helping... helping to crush your own people."
"You... you..." she stammered.
"Don't bother bringing the boy, though. Most slave traders won't buy Tauren bulls. They're too big and unpredictable." Another evil grin. "Although he is still quite young... If you were to beg me, I might be willing to castrate him. The slavers might be willing to take a Tauren steer."
"Enough!" she shouted as her fist connected with his chin.
Theodore was knocked back a few feet. He didn't look particularly hurt, but he did seem pleased with himself that he could push her to violence. He sneered and walked off without looking back.
Sanja sank to her knees and then to her side. Despite how she fought them, the tears began to flow.
Jorga sat down beside her and stroked her mane. He looked very brave for such a young kid.
Kazbo sat down in front of her and gave her an encouraging smile.
"Why are you still here?" she snapped at him. "Go! Go help your Alliance friend!"
"Kazbo is no friend of that buffoon. Just sold him a ride on my balloon." He put his tiny hand on top of hers. "Though I saw how you treated him; both fair and just. I will get you home somehow; even walk if we must."
She managed a sincere smile. "Thank you, Kazbo."
"What should we do?" Jorga whispered.
Sanja thought for a moment before standing and dusting herself off. "I think we should follow him. If he's headed toward a road, then that's where we need to be also. Perhaps we'll find other people there who would be more willing to help."
Sanja refilled her water skin and the trio set off to the West, following in Theodore's footprints. She tried to walk slowly and the Gnome tried to hurry. They fell far behind the rogue and it was clear that Kazbo would wear himself out early. He was neither fit nor accustomed to exerting himself. Plus, he had to take three steps for every one of hers.
"Walking..." the Gnome grunted. "This is quite a chore."
Sanja tried to give him an encouraging smile. No more rhymes for me, little man? she wondered.
He worked to catch his breath. "Popular activity?" he asked, "In Mulgore?"
Sanja chuckled to herself. "I suppose you could say so. My people are nomads. We follow the kodo north in the summer and then south again in the winter. Every few months, we pack up the entire village and take it for a walk.
"Even when we're not roaming, we have to track our game, and search for roots and berries," she explained. "I suppose we spend more time walking than almost anything else we do."
Kazbo shook his head and muttered to himself, but he did look determined. "I know that I can do this; Kazbo can roam. Been walking since I was just a little Gnome."
Sanja raised an eyebrow and stared down at the little man wordlessly.
"Okay, littl_ er _," he clarified with a blush. "Although you might think me pompous," he gestured along the length of his small body in a grandiose way, "I didn't always tower over Desolace."
Sanja couldn't help but laugh out loud. She slapped her thigh and gave the Gnome a genuine smile.
"I'm readying myself for a shock..." he said. "Any guess how long a walk...?"
Sanja shook her head. "I've never been to Desolace before."
"But you live nearby, nonetheless! Surely you could take a guess..."
Sanja frowned and kicked a stone with her hoof. "Well, I do have a friend who walked across Desolace last spring. Elizabeth was slave to an Orc who had traveled from Camp Mojache."
She took a deep breath and tried to remember every detail that Elizabeth had shared. She knew that any little fact might turn out to be critical. "Elizabeth said that they camped near the road, but for a few nights, that they could hear the screams from the demon city of Shok'thokar."
Sanja shuddered uncontrollably. "She said that they started as soon as the sun went down and that they continued until morning without pause." Despite the desert heat, she hugged her arms close for comfort. "They had to start sleeping during the day, since there was no way to get rest at night."
Kazbo gulped audibly, but said nothing.
"If Theodore was right, and Shok'thokar is just south of here, then that would be a good guide of how long it took them to reach our village."
"So we'll add on the four days to reach the road," he said cheerfully. "How many more from Shok'thokar did she strode?"
Sanja winced. "There is no pass through the Thunderhorn mountain range. They had to travel north, all the way to the Stonetalon Mountains; and then down through the Stonetalon pass to enter Mulgore."
"So it was a long expedition, when it came to its fruition?"
She nodded. "It took them three months to make it to my village," she noticed how he missed a step, "and I hope you'll take no offense, but she walked faster than you... and my brother as well."
"You can be at ease," he reassured Sanja, "her legs were longer than these?"
With a smile, "Yes, Kazbo, they were. But unfortunately, that's not the worst of it."
"No?" he squeaked.
"I figure that if they were here in the spring, then they probably hit the pass in the middle of the summer." He didn't show any sign that he understood, so she continued. "But it's already past the middle of summer now. Even if the two of you push yourselves hard, it seems unlikely that we can get through the pass... before it fills with snow."
Kazbo stopped short and put his hands over his mouth.
"I'm afraid so," Sanja said. "Unless you can conjure up some sort of miracle, then it's liable to be a whole year before Jorga and I see our family again."
The color had drained from the little Gnome's face. It was as if he had turned into a pink-bearded stone.
"Are you sure that you still want to come with us?"
With a worrisome pause, Kazbo said, "I won't rest until you're happy; safe and back with your family."
Jorga couldn't take being left out any longer. "What are you telling him?" he finally interrupted.
Sanja put her hand on his head and tousled his mane. He pulled away, indignant, and she couldn't suppress a grin. "I said that this could be a very long walk and that we're going to be together for a long time... Perhaps you could teach Kazbo some of our words, and he can teach you some of his?"
"That's a great idea, sis! Hey, Kazbo, Kazbo!" he shouted. "'Horns'... These are my horns."
"Horns," the Gnome repeated.
Sanja chuckled and shook her head. What is it with boys? she wondered. They're always so obsessed with their horns!