“Depending on why she wants this, either she thinks you’ll be acquitted—which I do not believe for a moment—or she wants to get a new jury.”
“Which means I will undoubtedly be executed.”
His voice was placid, almost bored. Baine looked at him sharply. “There are only a handful of beings capable of returning an impartial verdict. Four of them currently compose your jury.”
“I stand by my statement.”
Baine didn’t answer. When the furor had subsided, Taran Zhu said, “Chu’shao Bloodhoof and Chu’shao Whisperwind. Will you and your time advisors please approach the dais?”
When all of them stood before him, Taran Zhu peered at Tyrande with irritation. Chromie did not look particularly happy, Baine observed. “Accuser, tell me why at this late point you wish me to declare this trial compromised.”
“It has come to my attention, and I must bring it to yours, that Chu’shao Bloodhoof has a conflict of interest in representing the Accused. I do not believe he can do a fair job, and therefore request that the trial be formally declared compromised and that a new Defender and jury be appointed.”
“Chu’shao,” Taran Zhu said with a combination of gravity and exasperation, “I am dubious that you are unaware of the virtual impossibility of finding anyone—Horde, Alliance, or otherwise—who is capable of a completely fair representation of the Accused.”
“Well, you will simply have to do so,” Tyrande said.
“What is the nature of this evidence?”
Tyrande now had the grace to look a bit uncomfortable. “I have just been notified that a witness has been located who will give testimony that, to say the least, does not reflect well on Chu’shao Bloodhoof. I would prefer not to sully his reputation unnecessarily. I believe that hearing this information will so influence the jury that they will be unable to render a fair verdict.”
Taran Zhu folded his paws and scrutinized her at length. “I would not wish to be your enemy, Lady Tyrande.”
“I am glad you are not, Lord Zhu.”
“And what is the identity of this surprising witness?”
“I would prefer—”
“Right now,” Baine interrupted angrily, “I care not one whit what you prefer, Chu’shao! Who do you have?”
Taran Zhu held up a paw. “Pray silence, Chu’shao Bloodhoof. Chu’shao Whisperwind—Chu’shao Bloodhoof’s opinion of Garrosh is nothing new. He has even addressed any potential bias in his opening statement. If you had a protest, it should have been raised then.”
“I did not have this witness at that time, Fa’shua.”
Taran Zhu was still for a long moment. Finally, he spoke. “Chu’shao Bloodhoof, it is clear what Chu’shao Whisperwind wishes to achieve. I have more faith in the celestials and their ability to render a fair verdict than she does, but I would know your thoughts. It seems as though you would be the one damaged by this.”
This was the moment, Baine realized. Taran Zhu would do what he felt was best, of course. Such was his right as fa’shua. But he had asked Baine, and the tauren would answer truthfully. He also understood that Tyrande did not have to do this. If the testimony was as damning as she seemed to believe—and he had no reason to doubt her certainty—then she simply could have brought in the witness and let things fall out as they would. She was attempting to show him respect—and, perhaps, do him a kindness.
“There was a time when I would have welcomed this,” he said. “To have conducted my duty as best I could, and yet be relieved of the necessity to continue. The Earth Mother knows I have struggled with my choice. I did not ask for this burden, and I am certain whatever witness Tyrande has found will make public the degree of my feelings toward the Accused. As poor a champion as I might be, I am nonetheless the best Garrosh Hellscream has. I was called to defend him, and defend him I shall. Whatever the risk to me personally. These are my thoughts, Lord Zhu.”
To his surprise, Tyrande looked unhappy. She turned to him and said earnestly, “I do not think you appreciate the import of what is about to happen. I have no wish to make this a personal attack.”
“And yet, you are.”
“I must!” She kept her voice soft, but the passion of her words poured forth in every syllable. “I will sacrifice you, Baine Bloodhoof, if need be, in order to present the strongest case possible. I will sacrifice whatever and whomever I must.”
Baine took a deep breath and blew it out. He drew himself up to his full height and, looking down on the night elf, said very calmly, “Do so, then.”
Taran Zhu was watching them both. Now he said, “So be it. Chu’shao Whisperwind, you are free to present your witness. Based on the evidence, the Accused may choose whether or not to keep Baine Bloodhoof on as chu’shao.”
Tyrande closed her eyes for a moment. “Baine Bloodhoof, what happens next . . . be it on your head. Thank you, Fa’shua.”
Before Kairoz took his seat, he grabbed Baine’s arm and whispered, “I know what she has on you. I don’t have time to research a counter-Vision, and I can’t come up with anything off the top of my head!”
“You will not need to,” Baine replied stoically. “If Chromie is involved, then it is clear that Tyrande plans to show whatever evidence she is presenting, not merely discuss it. I must trust the truth will speak for itself, and I accept the consequences.”
“You’re as idealistic as the young prince,” hissed Kairoz in frustration.
Baine snorted in wry amusement. “I have been called worse,” he replied, and returned to his seat.
Garrosh again leaned over and asked, “What happened?”
“The trial will proceed. This time, you get to decide a part of it. You can keep me on, or not. If you choose to have someone else defend you, Taran Zhu will appoint another Defender.”
“Why would I wish to do that? You are making my last few days entertaining ones.”
Tyrande stood beside the witness chair, took a breath, and then said, “Please be aware that I regard the next witness as extremely hostile to the Accuser’s case. I summon Longwalker Perith Stormhoof to speak.”
And at that moment, Baine understood exactly how far Tyrande Whisperwind was willing to go in order to have Garrosh formally executed.
25
The tauren Longwalker Perith Stormhoof approached the chair slowly, with the air of one going to an execution. He sat down with dignity and waited.
“Please tell the court your name,” Tyrande said.
“I will not testify,” said Perith. His voice was deep, almost emotionless, but Baine knew better.
“Perith Stormhoof,” said Taran Zhu, “you are compelled to give testimony if you are so called.”
“I have sworn an oath, to Cairne Bloodhoof and to Baine Bloodhoof after him, to never say or do anything that would harm him. I am the trusted keeper of their secrets. You cannot force me to speak.”
“Under Pandaren law, I can hold you indefinitely until you do choose to testify,” Taran Zhu stated.
“I will stay in prison and keep my honor to the end of my days rather than betray my high chieftain.”
Baine had had enough. He rose. “Perith Stormhoof, I order you to speak. You have more than proved your loyalty, both to me and to my father, and it is for both of us that I tell you I will hold nothing you say against you. This is a place for truth, which Cairne and I ever valued, so speak yours, as Pandaren law requires.”
The mask vanished and Perith looked at him, anguished. Clearly, he didn’t think Baine fully appreciated the impact of what he might be asked to reveal. But Baine did, and was almost relieved. He nodded. Go ahead.
“I will speak, only because my high chieftain has told me I must,” Perith said, and his grief was almost palpable.