“Admiral Aubrey,” Jaina said warmly, hurrying up to him with her hands outstretched in welcome.
“Lady Proudmoore,” he said. “I’m alive, and the Horde didn’t take my wits. That’s all that matters. I’ll serve you as best I can.”
“As best you can is better than most could serve. I am so pleased to see you. The Alliance is going to be very glad of those wits. And a firsthand account of the Horde’s tactics will be helpful as well.” She squeezed his hands and inquired, “Are there any others with…?” Her voice trailed off as his expression grew solemn.
“About half a dozen survived with enough of their body parts left to join me,” he said. “And I’ve news of the Horde fleet as well, which I need to share as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, Admiral Aubrey’s right,” said Thaddus Stoutblow. “This is nae the time fer a cup o’ tea an’ idle chatter.”
“Agreed,” Jaina said at once. “Would that we had time for proper ceremony. Captain Vimes will help familiarize your crews and soldiers with the city and its defenses. Generals—and Admiral—please come into the keep. We have a great deal to discuss.”
A few moments later saw Jaina, the five generals, the five members of the Kirin Tor, Ranger-General Vereesa, and the single admiral seated around a large table. Ink, quills, and paper were on hand, as were glasses of fresh water. Not even the dwarves asked for alcohol; all knew that their wits needed to be clear and sharp.
“I bid all of you welcome once again,” Jaina said before anyone else could speak. “Generals, Ranger-General, Admiral, the magi you see before you are respected members of the Kirin Tor—including mage Thalen Songweaver. They have come to offer their insight and expertise in defense of Theramore.”
Marcus Jonathan peered at Rhonin. “In defense,” he repeated. “I take it you are still not choosing sides in the coming battle?”
“It is my hope, unrealized as it is likely to be, that there might not be a battle at all,” said Rhonin with a placidness unusual for him. As muttering began to make its way around the table, he lifted a hand. “If our presence is an insufficient deterrent to violence, then we will act to defend the city in order to prevent as much loss of life as possible. In the meantime”—he smiled—“a few of us have gotten our hands dirty before. Perhaps we can help in the planning.”
“The Light sends aid in all manner of ways, and in all manner of beings,” said Tiras’alan calmly, directing the words to the Sunreaver. “I for one welcome your cumulative wisdom.”
There were nods, some more blatantly reluctant than others. “I am relieved that we all realize that we have a common foe,” Jaina said. “There are so many years of experience gathered here around this table. I am glad every one of you is here.”
Aubrey leaned forward. “Before we start talking strategies and planning, Lady Jaina, I need to tell you what we saw as we sailed toward the harbor.”
Jaina felt the blood drain from her face. “Let me guess,” she said. “Several Horde battleships.”
Jonathan frowned slightly. “You cannot see them from the harbor,” he said, “and Theramore’s ships stayed close to home, or so we were informed. How did you know?”
“They were here a few days ago, being very careful to stay just inside Horde territory,” said Pained. “It appears they never truly left.”
“We were more than ready to engage if they had given us even a whiff of provocation,” said Jonathan. “But they sat there quite calmly, as if out for a scenic boat ride. They didn’t budge.”
Stoutblow glowered. “Which I, fer one, am verra sorry fer.”
“We had no desire to start this war,” Jonathan said, though Jaina didn’t miss that he, too, looked as if he wished that the Horde had fired on them so that the tension, at least, would be broken. “But we will be the ones to end it. They’re there, they’re armed, and they’re just… waiting.”
Tiras’alan cleared his throat. “If I may? Lady Jaina, word reached us that you were… warned about the attack. Do you believe that it might have been a trick? That perhaps Garrosh wants you to think the target is Theramore, when in reality it is elsewhere?”
“There’s nae other decent target reachable by land,” said Redmane, scoffing. “Seems a wee bit silly tae have all them Hordies squattin’ there fer nae reason. Th’ Horde’s big, true, but nae that big.”
“The thought did occur to us,” said Shandris. “We have seen no evidence that there are plans to attack anywhere other than Theramore.”
Jaina pondered, then shook her golden head. “No. I am certain it was no ruse. My… contact risked a great deal to warn me, and I trust him completely.” She had sat with Baine while he grieved a father slain by treachery, had seen a weapon sacred to the Light glow approvingly in his mighty fist. He would not betray her.
The draenei regarded her, then nodded. “Then we will take this unknown contact at his word. The evidence does appear to support it.”
Shandris leaned forward. “Admiral Aubrey,” she said, “we have had the honor to speak with you during our journey here. Lady Jaina and the others have not. Why do you not tell them what you have shared with us?” She smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. Shandris Feathermoon was a predator, and it was clear that she was ready to begin the hunt. “Then we shall make our strategies.”
Jaina took a moment to be grateful to the Light—and to Varian Wrynn, A’dal, High Priestess Tyrande, Archdruid Malfurion, Rhonin, and the Council of Three Hammers—for the collective wisdom of these battle-hardened men and women. With luck, not only would they withstand the Horde attack, but they would do so with the fewest number of casualties on both sides.
Then, when Garrosh Hellscream realized that even his best efforts at violence would not prevail, maybe he would be willing to talk peace.
Earth Mother, give me guidance, Baine prayed silently. He had come to the little remembrance site—the tauren equivalent of a graveyard—close to the encampment that the tauren had passed on their path to Northwatch. He found comfort here, where the benevolent spirits of those who had died might yet linger.
The days crawled by as the Horde waited… and waited, and the Alliance defenses at Theramore grew stronger by the moment. Baine had heard from Perith and knew that Jaina had received his message with the graciousness and appreciation he had come to expect from the lady of Theramore. Even so, the warning had been given to prevent a massacre of the Alliance, not so that the Alliance would have a chance to massacre the Horde. Which it was shaping up to be. Still, this could not be laid at Jaina’s feet; Garrosh, for some unfathomable and alarming reason, seemed content to stay holed up with his Kor’kron and that Blackrock orc while precious moments passed.
Word had come that the 7th Legions famous fleet had arrived and that the decks of the flagship were crawling with Alliance generals whose names ought to have been striking terror into Garrosh’s heart. Instead, Baine had heard laughter and bold comments coming from the warchief’s encampment while the dire news was being whispered among the Horde’s foot soldiers, who sat awaiting orders.
Baine no longer had the heart to even protest Garrosh’s delay. At best, he would be taunted and pushed to his limits, then dismissed. At worst, he could be accused of treason and perhaps executed.
Baine was a warrior. He was no stranger to tactics and strategy and knew that what seemed like foolishness sometimes was wisdom. But he could see nothing here that resembled wisdom. Garrosh had attacked Northwatch, and the victory was overwhelming. Had they pushed on to Theramore even a day or two later, a similar victory would have been assured. But instead, Grom’s son had waited and let Jaina learn about the planned attack, had let her stockpile food and weapons, had let her receive outside assistance.