It was two days after Orlam walked onto that shore towards the Tree of Likon to talk to The Wolf, Lethero, his big brother. Lethero was twenty when Orlam was born and as Orlam grew up he always found his older brother strange. He would appear and stay for a while then he would disappear for days, sometimes weeks. Then when Orlam turned fifteen he didn’t see his brother again for ten years. He suddenly appeared again two years ago and asked to talk to Orlam. He had acquired a new nickname then, The Wolf With Many Furs.
Orlam found himself standing in the square with the caged humans again. The same two guards and auctioneer were there. They seemed to have more ragged, half-starved humans again than two days ago. As he looked closer he saw one human that stood out. He sat in the corner away from the other humans. His skin was pale as if he stayed inside for many days. Unlike the others he did not wear the loincloth like clothing, but his was more sophisticated. Almost like the clothing the Werewolves wore, but still more simpler.
Even though Orlam was disgusted with the human imprisonment, he ventured close to the bars. When he got close to the cage the human stared at him straight into the eyes. There’s intelligence in those eyes, he thought.
“Help me,” said a quiet and desperate voice. Orlam turned around, but saw no one near him looked as if they said anything. “Help me,” the voice whispered again. He turned around and stared at the human. “Help me,” the voice said once more, but now Orlam saw the human’s lips move. “Please, can you help me?”
“Is there more like you?” Orlam asked, keeping his voice low so the other Werewolves wouldn’t hear. “Others meaning like you, who can talk?” He nodded swiftly. Orlam turned around a called to the auctioneer. “How much for this human?” He asked
“That one?” the auctioneer asked, raising his eyebrow. “Are you sure you want that human? He’s a little queer, couldn’t sell him, not even for free. People are afraid of that one.”
“How much?” Orlam said sternly.
“If you’re sure,” the auctioneer said looking strangely at Orlam. “One hundred jips.”
“Fifty”
“Seventy-five, and that’s as low as I’m going.” Orlam simply nodded, pulling out his jip card and slipped it into the slot in front of the cage and entered his code. Then the two guards pulled out their electric batons and walked into the cage towards the chosen human. After putting a worn out looking leash on him, not too gently, they dragged him out and handed Orlam the leash.
“Thanks,” he said and turned to walk off, dragging the human behind him trying his best to look inconspicuous without hurting the human. He took the human into one of the thin alleys away from people and went in deep to make sure no one would see them. He eventually stopped at a spot that was as clean as an alley was going to get and looked at the human.
“You sure there are more like you?” Orlam asked keeping his voice down even though he knew he wouldn’t be over heard.
“Yes,” the human said in a terrified voice, “please don’t hurt me,” but this time his voice sounded more confident. Orlam felt a knife at his throat before he knew what happened.
“Don’t move Werewolf,” said the knife bearer in a vicious tone, “or I’ll spill your dark blood all over the ground. Irlon, get over here.”
“Don’t hurt,” him said the human that was obviously Irlon, “he saved my life, I would’ve been stuck in those cages forever if not for him.” Irlon turned to Orlam and asked, “Are you part of the Moon Riders?”
“What?” Orlam asked not sure what to think of that name.
“See,” the knife bearer said, “he probably works for the Devil’s Sons, he wants to find out where we make headquarters. Let’s get out of here.”
Orlam felt the strong blunt force of a fist hitting him on the back of the head. Before he blacked out he heard Irlon say, “Thank you.”Then the world was dark.
