“Garrosh wants nothing less than the entirety of Kalimdor,” Jaina said quietly. “He will take Theramore and then launch his forces across the continent all the way to Teldrassil.”
“If Theramore falls, he could do it, too,” growled Varian. “Damn it, Jaina, I always warned you that this Horde you are so fond of would turn on you like a tamed wild beast!”
Kalec raised an eyebrow, but Jaina remained calm. “It is clear to me that Garrosh is the driving force behind all this. The Horde would never have done anything like this under Thrall’s leadership.”
“But Thrall is not leading the Horde, and now Theramore—indeed, all of Kalimdor—might pay the price!”
She didn’t rise to the bait. “It is clear, then, that you realize the severity of the situation.”
A sigh. “I do,” he said, “and in answer to your unasked question, yes, Stormwind will stand with Theramore. I’ll divert the 7th Legion’s naval fleet toward Theramore immediately.” There was a pause. “And, as things seem to be quiet for once in at least a few parts of this world, I’ll notify several of my finest generals to report to you as well. They’ll give you a hand with the city’s defense, and together you can hammer out a strategy that will send those Horde dogs home with their tails between their legs.”
She smiled gratefully. “Varian—thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” the king of Stormwind said. “It’s going to take a few days. You’ll want a good-sized force to greet the Horde, and some of the generals I want to send to you are stationed in rather distant places.”
Kalec’s heart sank. The Horde was only a day’s march, perhaps two, and its forces were already gathered at Northwatch. Varian’s strategy was a good one, so far as it went. But all the king’s generals and all the king’s ships could not save Theramore if they arrived an hour too late. He wished he could speak but had to content himself with clenching his fists in frustration. What was worse than his own dismay was seeing Jaina looking stunned and worried.
“Are you sure? Varian, Ka—one of my scouts said he saw the Horde still assembled in full numbers at Northwatch.”
“If they are still gathered and not yet marching,” said Varian, “they obviously are not interested in a swift conquest. They have their own plots. I will move as fast as I may, Jaina, but nothing can change the fact that it will take time to assemble any kind of a fleet that would make a difference. I’m sorry. It’s the best I can do.”
Jaina nodded. “Of course I know that, Varian. And you raise a good point. I’ll be contacting the other Alliance leaders as well. The kaldorei may be able to send both ships and warriors; the dwarves, warriors and perhaps gryphons. I think even the draenei would be willing to help.”
“I will speak with Greymane,” said Varian. “I know well a few worgen on the battlefield will strike fear even into the hearts of the more bestial members of the Horde.”
“Thank you,” Jaina said. “Sometimes it’s easy to feel a bit deserted here on this island.”
“Well, don’t,” said Varian, but his voice was kind. “Contact me again in a few hours, and we will share our information. Take care, Jaina. We will win this yet.”
“I know we will,” said Jaina.
And as the soft blue light of the magic mirror faded and her features returned to normal hues, Kalecgos resolved that whatever happened, he would do all he could to make sure Jaina’s faith was justified.
11
Four days. Four full days had the massed army of the Horde waited for the order to march on Theramore. Garrosh had stayed in his warchief’s battle tent, and no request for an audience had been granted.
Loyal the Horde might have been to its warchief, but patient its members were not. There had been muttered complaints, quietly voiced questions. Baine, who had complaints and questions aplenty, had kept his sharp ears tuned to the murmurs and had discreetly spoken with those who, like he, were concerned about this inexplicable delay.
He and Hamuul Runetotem set up a meeting some distance away from the ruin, near a giant tree that had been on the right side of the Great Divide when the land had bucked and heaved during the Cataclysm, and were the first to arrive. They all came one by one: Captain Frandis Farley and a few companions from the Forsaken; Kelantir Bloodblade; Captain Zixx Grindergear, who commanded one of the zeppelins, and his first mate, Blar Xyzzik; Margolag, who represented Eitrigg; and more than a few of his own tauren. The last ones to come were Vol’jin and two of his people. Baine was both pleased and worried to see his friend present for this meeting.
For a moment, they all simply stood and regarded Baine. He looked at them each in turn. “No one here is a traitor to the Horde,” he said in his deep, rumbling voice. “It is possible to be loyal and yet question the wisdom of certain behavior. But all of us gathered here tonight know well that treason is in the eye of the beholder and that Malkorok views us with a very unkind eye indeed.”
Silence, save the soft sound of weight being shifted from one foot to another. Baine continued.
“It is for love of the Horde that I have asked you to attend. And now, before anyone can be accused of treasonous behavior, I invite those who do not wish to be here to leave. No one will condemn you for withdrawing. But if you so choose, as we will forget your involvement up to this point if we are captured and interrogated, I would ask you to forget ours. Leave freely, and go in peace.”
A tauren, nothing more than a large shape to Baine’s eyes as he stood far from the small campfire, turned to go. One or two of the undead left as well. The rest remained.
“You are courageous,” Baine told them, indicating that they might sit.
“We’re scared witless, is what we is,” said Zixx’s first mate. “Anybody got any booze?” Wordlessly a troll handed him a wineskin, and the goblin took a huge swallow.
“Blar speaks truly, if somewhat inelegantly,” said Kelantir. “We have heard what happens to those who speak out against Garrosh. Thrall at least would have listened! And he never would have led us down this path! The Alliance will—”
Baine held up a hand. “Peace, my friend. You are right about such things, but Thrall is no longer our warchief. Garrosh Hellscream is. And our purpose here tonight is not to lead an insurrection, but to discuss what he has done up until this point and the wisdom—or lack thereof—of his choices.” He nodded to Hamuul, who handed him a branch around which feathers, beads, and bits of bone were tied. “This is the speaking stick. Only he or she who holds it may speak.” He held it out in front of him. “Who wishes to speak first?”
“I would speak, High Chieftain Bloodhoof.” It was Frandis Farley. Baine inclined his head, and the stick was passed to the leader of Garrosh’s Forsaken forces. “I serve the Horde. But it seems the Horde does not serve me, or my lady. We were once human; I myself once lived in the very city of Stormwind, which is certain to come bearing down on us at any moment. The Alliance is surely aware of what has happened by now, and I think Lady Jaina too wise a leader not to know that Theramore could be next in line to fall.”
His supposition was truer than he knew. Baine did not reveal anything by a change of expression; he merely listened.
“Yet knowing all this, Lady Sylvanas agreed to send aid to the endeavor. But to what end? We are gathered! The Horde has food, supplies, and for those of you whose blood still flows in your veins, I know that blood burns hot for battle. Why is he waiting? Each day that passes, his troops become more uncertain. This is not wisdom. This is simply…” He groped for words. “Irresponsibility.”
Bloodblade extended her hand for the speaking stick. “I agree with Captain Farley. His lands and ours are vulnerable if the humans decide to retaliate there instead of sending ships to Theramore. The swifter the strike, the swifter the reward. I cannot comprehend why Garrosh delays. More time serves our enemies and harms us.”