Aegwynn had no choice but to concede the point.
"Milady," the woman said as she came down off the bottom rung of the rope, "I'm afraid I bring bad news." She then looked askance at Aegwynn.
"Colonel Lorena, this is Magna Aegwynn. You may speak as freely to her as you would to me."
The colonel nodded and started to speak. Apparently the word of Jaina Proudmoore was enough for this colonel. Aegwynn grudgingly admitted to being impressed. A woman didn't rise to such a position without a great deal of hard work—she suspected that Lorena was twice as good as any male colonel, simply because she would have to be to succeed. If someone that talented trusted Proudmoore so implicitly, then Proudmoore may have been a more impressive specimen than Aegwynn had been willing to credit.
Perhaps there was something to the girl's hero worship after all.
Lorena said, "Ma'am, it is my firm belief that Chamberlain Kristoff is a member of the Burning Blade—that he has conspired to increase our forces at Northwatch and provoke the orcs into a conflict."
Proudmoore's face fell. "Kristoff? I don't believe that."
But the colonel spent the next several minutes explaining what had happened in Proudmoore's absence from Theramore.
When she was done, Aegwynn asked, "When did this Burning Blade start?"
"We're not sure," Proudmoore said. "We think it's related to a former orc clan. Why?"
"Because Zmodlor started a cult called the Burning Blade. In fact, the sword he was going to use to sacrifice the children he'd imprisoned was covered in oil and was to be set alight when the sacrifice commenced. Since Zmodlor is around, it's possible he was involved with those orcs as well."
Lorena spoke up before Proudmoore could respond to that. "Milady, why are you behind these wards? I brought Booraven with us to track you down, and she said there were wards up so we couldn't pass. But—why haven't you come out from behind them?"
"I'm afraid I can't. When I arrived here, I was able to penetrate the wards that had been put up, but they've been replaced with demonic wards from the very same Zmodlor that Magna Aegwynn was just discussing. I'm afraid I do not have the knowledge to bypass them."
"A pity," Aegwynn said. "If these were still my wards, I would let you through in an instant."
Snorting, Proudmoore said, "Don't be ridiculous—they were never your wards. They were Medivh's."
Aegwynn stared at Proudmoore in open—mouthed shock. "How did you—"
"When I first arrived here, I recognized the magic used for the wards as belonging to one of the Tirisfalen. But after I penetrated them, I realized I knew which of the Tirisfalen it was, because I'd encountered it before. As I tried to tell you earlier, I knew Medivh—it was he that brought human and orc to this land, and he that convinced us to ally against the Burning Legion. I know his magic quite well."
Lorena spoke before Aegwynn could respond. "Milady, with respect, time grows short. We must get you out of there. There has to be a way."
Proudmoore looked at Aegwynn. "There is. Teach me that spell of Meitre's." Pointing at the colonel, she added, "We now have the conduit."
"Very well," Aegwynn said, "if it means you'll leave me in peace."
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
Aegwynn blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're coming with us."
Snorting, Aegwynn said, "Am I?"
"Yes. You are the magna, the Guardian who is all that stands between us and the demonic hordes. It is your responsibility to come with us."
"On what are you basing this ridiculous notion?"
"You said that Zmodlor built these wards. That means he is active—for all we know, he is responsible for the Burning Blade that is even now cutting through the alliance Thrall and I built at your son's behest. But you thought you defeated him eight centuries ago—obviously you didn't finish the job, and it is your responsibility—"
"What do you know of responsibility?" Aegwynn cried. "For eight—"
"Yes, I know what you did, Magna, you've told me quite a bit about your failures, your deceits, your lies, your arrogance—but what you've also reminded me of is that you never once shirked your responsibility as Guardian. Everything you did—from facing Zmodlor to defying the council to siring Medivh—was done because you believed in what you did. Regardless of your mistakes, of your defeats, you never once shirked that responsibility. Until now." Proudmoore shook her head. "You asked me what I know of responsibility, and right now I'd say more than you, because you never had to be responsible to anyone save yourself. I have led people into battle, and I have ruled them when the battle was over—and right now, the people who have trusted me need me, and it may well be because of a demon you were supposed to have killed. I will not see everything we have built here be brought down by your self—pity, Magna."
"I believe I've earned the right to determine my own destiny."
"Because you brought Medivh back?"
Again Proudmoore had managed to stun Aegwynn with her perspicacity. She found herself unable to speak.
"We always wondered how Medivh came back from the dead after Khadgar and Lothar defeated him. It would have taken powerful magic to do so. I might have been able to do it, and so could one or two others, but if they had, they would have admitted it. You said you were drained by your fight with Medivh, but there is one thing that could substitute for that necessary power, and that's the bond between mother and son."
Aegwynn nodded, staring off into space at an indeterminate point on one of the Bladescar peaks. "With what was left of the de—aging magic, I was able to scry in the well water and learn what was happening. I saw my son killed by his apprentice and his best friend—and I saw Sargeras banished from him. So I spent years building up the power to bring him back. When I did, it almost killed me. That was why the wards were Medivh's—I no longer had the strength to cast them. Or anything else. I still don't." She turned to face Proudmoore. "That was my swan song, Lady Proudmoore. It cannot even begin to make up for all I have done wrong."
"I disagree. What you've done is sire a son who saved the world. It may have taken a while, but what he did was exactly what you would have done—what you conceived him to do. He went against the conventional wisdom and was proactive in fighting the Burning Legion by convincing Thrall and me to unite our forces. He didn't learn that from Sargeras, and he didn't learn that from whatever afterlife you retrieved him from—he learned that from you."
Lorena had been standing semipatiently during this entire conversation, her obvious respect for Lady Proudmoore overcoming her soldier's desire for action. "Milady—"
"Yes, of course," Aegwynn said, "your colonel is right. Zmodlor needs to be defeated—permanently this time." She sighed. "Prepare yourself, Colonel Lorena—this may hurt a bit. Lady Proudmoore, repeat after me."
And then Aegwynn taught Jaina Proudmoore Meitre's penetration spell.
Seventeen
Thrall had spent the day hearing petitions. Most were for mundane matters that he would have thought his fellow orcs could handle on their own. Some were for disputes in which the two sides simply were not capable of agreeing, and so a neutral third party was required to settle them. In truth, it could have been anyone who settled them, but as Warchief, it was his duty.
When the last of the petitioners had left the throne room, Thrall rose from the animal—skin seat and paced the room, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs. He still had not heard from Jaina regarding the thunder lizards, but he had not received any more reports of rampaging thunder lizards, either, so he presumed that the situation was in hand. He just hoped she solved it soon so he could consult her about this Flaming Sword.
Kalthar and Burx both entered then. The latter spoke in an urgent tone. "Warchief, there's someone here who has to talk to you. Now."