“Grokdaz woke up instantly. As usual, he reached towards the head of the chair, clenched the werewolf leather-covered handle of the “Gromdok’s Fury” in his fist, and only then sat up with a jerk, covering his head and chest with the blued steel. In the huge khan's tent, illuminated only by a young witch's fire, it was dark as on a moonless night, but there was enough light for the orcs born in the dungeons. The leader of the Coman Dun tribe looked around. The young concubine was breathing quietly, freely stretched out on the precious skins of snow leopards. Faithful Fang, a spotted steppe wolf, lay in a shaggy lump with his muzzle resting on his outstretched front paws at the entrance to the tent and squinted at his owner with a glowing red eye. Everything seemed to be calm... But the painfully familiar premonition of a close battle forced the leader to rise to his full height..."