55. Anecdotes from the countryside (1)

At the end of the valley passage was the first line of defence set up by the Orcs to hold back the barbarians on the icy tundra. The first line of defense against the barbarians on the icy tundra is the long road of death and the valley passages that are barely replenished with any food. This is why there has never been a successful conquest by the Barbarian alliance, and it is known as the Never Lost Fortress of Goya.

The seven- to eight-metre high log wall blocked off one side of the two-hundred-metre wide valley passage, the blood-red orc banner fluttering in the gusting wind beneath several thirty-metre high watchtowers, the yellow ramparts lined with huge stone-throwing apparatus, and piles of huge stones as high as mountains that could easily flatten a magical caravan. The steep beams on either side were lined with huge stone fortresses built every ten metres or so, and I could even see the icy stares of the orc warriors inside.

Katarina and I peered out of the window, watching the merchant's lord Leipas paper the orc warriors guarding the barrier, and smelling the perfume in her hair, I couldn't resist tangling a lock of her hair in my fingers and playing with it. It wasn't quite a flirtation, but at best a game between a big girl and a little boy.

Finally, towards noon, the caravan passed the fortress barrier completely.

Our enchanted caravan eased into the Yemeni fortress along the ten-metre wide yellow rammed main road, passing through the fifty-metre long central main road, which was also flanked by seven-metre high log walls, somewhat like the layout of an urn city. Only after the convoy had passed through the main road, which had an oppressive air, and passed through the Yemeni fortress, did I see that to the south of the tall fortress, there were many low stone houses built immediately adjacent to the fortress, which looked like the homes of ordinary inhabitants, except that they were so irregularly built, packed together in twos and threes, that there was hardly a perfectly straight road through the stronghold, which was larger than a village and smaller than a town.

I let Katrina carry me on the bar of the caravan doorway, and she held my body so I could see further. It was the first time I had seen an orc tribe stronghold, very distinctive, looking more like a stone bunker, all much the same prototypical building, made of some kind of large cobblestones, the stone walls outlined with mud and dead grass, the stone huts getting narrower the higher up they were built, and finally the roof was closed with a lid made of thatch, the whole hut without any windows, just poor door frames, some of them even Some huts even have no doors, only a dry piece of beast's skin hanging from them. A few orc children with only leather skirts around their waists, braided in various strange ways, sat in front of their homes in the sun, their clear eyes full of curiosity about our caravan, but no one would come up and look around. The streets of the stronghold were lined with rubbish, which stank and smelt strange. I could see the fear in the eyes of the beasts in the stronghold when they saw the Thunder Rhinos.

The first impression I got here was one of poverty and shabbiness, so poor that it seemed impossible to be poorer, they had almost nothing except a pile of stones they had picked up from the river. The second impression was one of decadence and passivity, these half-grown children of the Orcs would rather sit on the rocks outside their homes in the sun than clean up the streets or go hunting in the wilderness, all they seemed to know was to wait. I did not find in them the shadow of Kurtz, a warrior who loved life and nature as much as Kurtz, full of struggle and striving.

"This is a shanty town for war slaves, those are the descendants of war slaves, they have no future, they are just waiting to fight and die in battle one day." Kig stood beside me at this point and explained for me, "The real orc soldiers live with their families in the fortress, or in the town of Yemen a few kilometres away from here, oh there is a free market there, will you walk me around later?"

I was thinking of finding a free market and seeing if they sold Naiti bows or something to buy one for Kuz, and when I heard that Kiger was thinking of visiting the orc free market, I agreed and said, "Sure, I'd love to go."

"Stop by and meet your brother so we can talk about us forming a group." Kiger added in the background, her voice as beautiful as the person, those talking eyes shining like jewels. A light veil covering her face hung over her white, almost splayed face, and her long, originally ebony hair had turned a chestnut colour; I remembered clearly the first time I saw her, her long hair was burgundy, reflecting her sultry, seductive eyes, beautiful as a goblin. When I met her later one morning on the road to death, her long hair had turned black, and at that time her clean, pretty face and slightly slim figure, dressed in a coarse cotton dress, made me think for a moment that she was a small dancer of no standing in the dance troupe. Now she wore tight blue deerskin armour, which accentuated her slender figure, and magic antelope skin boots under her feet, with an intricately engraved bronze sword hanging from a belt around her waist.

What can I say when I see that she is already fully dressed and ready to go?

It was a good thing that Kiger had always deliberately made herself more bland, as she was now, she looked more like a sister next door, her features were only delicate, her figure was slim against her leather armour, her hair was simply in a ponytail, she wore no ornaments, and she stood quietly beside Katrina and me, unconsciously ignoring her presence. I took one look at the two-foot-long magical sword hanging from her waist and had the heart to advise: don't be so flamboyant, big sister.

I swear it was really in my mind when I was still standing on the beam of the doorway parapet, Katrina holding me up behind me so I wouldn't be turned upside down by the slow moving caravan, hands clasped around my waist, also looking out with me at the characteristic orcish dwellings, I knew she too was curious about the orcish tribe, after all she too had an eighth of orcish blood running through her.

"How about I get a short sword instead? I also have a Shattered Swordsman in my collection. It shouldn't be this flashy." Kiger said calmly.

I was rifled at this and asked her with wide eyes, "Miss Kee, you can see what's going on in my mind? You can read minds?"

Kiger gave me a bored look through her silver teeth and said in a nasal grunt, "You're looking at this magic sword of mine with your eyebrows pulled together, and I still don't know what you're thinking?"

I was immediately silent.

The caravan kept going south along the main road for five or six kilometres before finally arriving at the small Yemeni town built behind a gentle mound.

Standing on a mound covered with date palm shrubs, the town was in full view down the slope. It is a slightly deserted town without even a simple wall, about four square kilometres in size, with a jumble of square stone houses lining the wide streets, many of which are lined with clay walls and have simple wooden windows with thin cowhide window paper on the frames. There are only two main streets in the town, which intersect in a cross shape in the centre of the town. The more the houses are built on the edge, the more ramshackle and low they become, and at the edge there are even some abandoned houses that have been buried by the wind and sand, revealing only their grass-covered roofs.

Some of the orcs were seen in the streets, and when they saw the caravan on the mound, they began to talk, and even some of the stronger orc warriors came out of their huts with their weapons, looking coldly at the caravan. Judging from the buildings in the town, the maximum population of the town should not exceed 15,000 people. Worried about unnecessary misunderstandings, the caravan made a detour down the dirt slope and camped on the flat wasteland on the western side of the town, where there was a well of water that the caravan and its animals needed to drink.

The town's main attraction was the free market in the town centre square.

Katrina had already changed into her cloth dress and followed Kiger when she heard we were going to the market. We only waited for the caravan to stop before jumping out of it to join Kuzi who was waiting outside and the group of four headed towards the Yemeni town. I learnt from him that the town had started out as a logistical supply office outside the Yemeni fortress, as the orc garrison here would occasionally trade their munitions for food and meat. They would bring in their hunted goods in exchange for food and salt, and gradually the town evolved into a free market.

As I passed by the huge granite well, I looked curiously at the orc women squatting by the well, washing their clothes, all dressed in thin linen skirts and skirts, covered with tough cowhide sleeveless shirts and leather stockings, and covered with bits of cowhide leather straps. The orc women were thicker and hairier, their faces harder, their bodies taller, their arms and legs sturdier, their skin slightly darker, their heads in twisted braids, and their eyes glowing with fear as they looked over at us, showing that they were simple and tough. A few of the orc children were playing in the water along the well with them, and the sight of them made me think of Kurtz as a child.

I didn't expect them to look at Kurtz with kind smiles, and there was even an enthusiastic orc woman squatting by the well and calling out to him, "Would you like water from the sweet well of the bayou, orc boy from afar? Where have you come from? Have you come to trade with the caravans?"

Kurtz, in turn, paused to answer politely, "Thank you for your kindness, Sister. We have come from the distant Black Iron City of King Stan, the Dwarven monarch, to trade with the Gurudin tribe. We passed through here and wanted to see the goods in the market."

"We have the largest free market within a hundred miles of the town of Yemen, so go on, child. I wish you luck." The orc woman's voice was thick and kind, and she always spoke orcish with an accent on the endings, giving me a sense of the regional language.

------------