That sort of deception wasn’t just for the mogu. Khal’ak had the feeling that it would take all that and more to destroy the Shado-pan. After all, Vol’jin had abandoned her and the Zandalari to cast his lot with the pandaren. She assumed that he knew something she did not and that her enlightenment would be bought with blood.
Under Chen’s direction, Vol’jin and the others had put as much canvas on the ship’s masts as they could hold. Though not the world’s most accomplished sailor, the pandaren kept them running with the wind, south toward Pandaria. While tending to the ship and keeping watch for pursuit did demand attention, every so often one or another of them would laugh aloud, nervously, when thinking of their escape.
Vol’jin found himself amidships with Brother Cuo as the noon sun blazed overhead. The monk had been quiet, which was hardly uncharacteristic, but Vol’jin wondered if events during their escape further stilled his tongue.
“Brother Cuo, what I done with the Gurubashi soldier… . Cutting him that way be cruel, no denying, but I be not intending cruelty.”
The pandaren nodded. “Please, Master Vol’jin, I understand why you did what you did. I also understand that balance is not a matter of abundance opposed by poverty. In theory, peace is the balance of war, but in practice, violence is balanced not by a lack but by violence of an equal nature, moving in the opposite direction.”
Cuo opened his paws. “You think of the Shado-pan as isolated, perhaps provincial, because we have not seen what you have. But I do understand that violence is nuanced. What is the damage done by a sword stroke that cuts nothing? What you did in cutting that troll will distract the enemy so he strikes at nothing. Killing the soldiers means that the hand wielding the sword will be weak.”
Vol’jin shook his head. “What I did means he not gonna strike at nothing; he gonna strike at us. He gonna strike at the Shado-pan. What we did gonna terrify the mogu and be forcing the Zandalari to eliminate the Shado-pan. And you saw the armies assembled on that island.”
“They are formidable.” The pandaren smiled. “But your Zandalari see us as a bright light. The mogu feel us as searing heat. What they fail to perceive is that we are fire. This will be a mistake they will very much regret.”
Chen brought the small fishing boat into a tiny cove beneath the Peak of Serenity’s stone spire. They hauled the boat up onto the beach at the high-water mark and moored it there. They knew they’d never use it again, but letting it drift off or scuttling it seemed unworthy payment for the service it had done them.
They made their way up the rocky slope, at times having to climb nearly sheer cliff faces. Vol’jin imagined Zandalari swarming over the same rocks. In his mind they became an undulating black wave cresting over the cliff. He indulged himself with the fantasy of an avalanche sending boulders tumbling down among them. Crushed trolls bled between rocks, while others were blasted back into the ocean and sank slowly as air bubbled out of their lungs.
But that be not how this gonna happen.
The best-case scenario for the Zandalari was not to attack the monastery at all. What they needed to do was surround the mountain with two or three cordons of troops. They could prevent the monks from descending to aid in Pandaria’s defense. If the enemy included a company of pterrordax riders to counteract the cloud serpents, the Shado-pan would be helpless while the Zandalari and mogu occupied the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, the Jade Forest, and the Townlong Steppes. Once they had consolidated those areas, they could conquer the monastery at their leisure.
The problem for Vilnak’dor was that this strategy would not work. The mogu would demand the monks’ destruction. The Zandalari would not allow the mogu to accomplish this because the mogu had not done well before against the pandaren. If they actually succeeded in killing the Shado-pan, the mogu might come to question their need for the Zandalari at all. If the mogu failed, the Zandalari would have to clean up after them and deal with an upset Thunder King.
Moreover, the troll troops would know just how lethal a shadow hunter and a man had been on the island. Given the way rumors flowed through military camps, Vol’jin was certain the soldiers believed that he was a shadow hunter trained by the monks or that the monks had been given special shadow hunter training by him. Either way, suddenly Pandaria had a new threat that could move unseen through enemy camps, which meant every soldier was vulnerable. This would not be good for morale.
Vol’jin explained his thoughts to Taran Zhu after the escapees reached the monastery. The elder monk had been only mildly surprised to see them. He’d known they weren’t dead, since they’d not dropped from the mountain’s bones. Neither had the image of Sister Quan-li, which gave the travelers heart.
The Shado-pan leader stood studying a map of the Kun-Lai district with Vol’jin and Tyrathan. “Your assessment, then, would be that the Zandalari must throw elite troops at us? Only that will raise morale and appease the mogu.”
Vol’jin nodded. “I would be doing this along with a heavy push south from Zouchin. I would be sending one force straight south, and then one to the west, cutting you off from the Jade Forest and Townlong Steppes. Even if their elites did fail to kill you, you would be having no retreat.”
Tyrathan tapped a finger on the map’s southern edge. “If we move now and withdraw to the Valley of the Four Winds, we escape their trap. We leave a few people in place to make the monastery appear lived in, then have them escape at night by cloud serpent as the Zandalari close in.”
The elder monk clasped his paws at the small of his back and nodded thoughtfully. “It is a wise plan. I shall arrange for you to evacuate.”
Vol’jin’s eyes tightened. “You sound as if you not gonna come.”
“No Shado-pan will.”
The troll stared at him. “I pointed the Zandalari here. I made you a target. I did that thinking you would move and be leading the opposition from elsewhere.”
The pandaren slowly shook his head. “I appreciate your attempt to take responsibility for your actions, Vol’jin, but you did not make us a target. From this place pandaren planned the overthrow of the mogu. History is what made us a target. You may have provided more urgency, but they would have come for us. They must.
“And, for that same reason, we cannot leave.” The monk pointed to the map with an open paw. “From here we secured the freedom of Pandaria. This is the only place from which we can keep Pandaria free. If the Peak of Serenity falls, peace will forever vanish from our home. But this is our home, not yours. I do not expect you or Chen to remain here. You should go south. Your people have the power to oppose the invasion. Warn them. Make them see sense.”
Vol’jin shivered. “How many be you defending this place with?”
“With Brother Cuo’s return, we are thirty.”
“Thirty-one.” Tyrathan hooked thumbs through his belt. “And I’ll wager Chen’s not leaving.”
“Then I be thirty-three.”
Taran Zhu bowed to both of them. “Your gesture humbles us and does you honor, but I shall not hold you to it. Return to your people. There is no reason for you to die here.”
The troll lifted his chin. “Did you not carve us into this mountain’s bones?”
The monk nodded solemnly.
“Then the Shado-pan be our people. They be family.” Vol’jin smiled. “And I have no intention of dying here. That, my friends, be a job for the Zandalari.”
29
Vol’jin felt his father’s presence and dared not open his eyes. The shadow hunter had gone to his cell in the monastery and isolated himself despite the frenzy of activity going on in preparation for the coming assault. He firmly believed everything he’d said to Taran Zhu, about belonging there, about the monastery being a new home and the bond of his likeness having been carved into the mountain’s bones.