“Well do I believe that,” Jaina heard herself say. “Still, he has participated in an act of violence against the Alliance. Northwatch Hold—”
“Is only a start,” Perith said, interrupting her. “Hellscream would reach much farther than a simple hold.”
“What?” Even now Jaina recalled feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach.
“His goal is nothing less than the conquest of the continent. He will shortly be ordering the Horde to march on Theramore. And mark me well, their numbers are strong. As you are now, you will fall. My high chieftain remembers the aid you gave him and asked me to warn you. He has no wish to see you caught unawares.”
“Your high chieftain,” she said, her heart full, “is a truly honorable tauren. I am proud to be so highly regarded by him. I thank him for this timely warning. Please tell him it will help save innocent lives.”
“He regrets that a warning is all he can give you, my lady. And . . . he asks you to please take Fearbreaker, and return it to the one who so kindly gifted it to him. Baine feels that it is no longer his to keep.”
There, Jaina thought, surely Vol’jin will understand; perhaps he even knew about this—
“I will see to it that Fearbreaker is returned to its former owner,” the image of Jaina said. Her voice was rich with warmth and gratitude. I was . . . good, Jaina realized. I was good, then . . .
She could tell that Perith saw that as he bowed deeply to her. Quickly Jaina scribbled a note, sealed it, and gave it to the Longwalker.
“This will ensure your safe passage through Alliance territory, if you are caught.”
His voice rumbled with laughter. “I will not be, but your concern is appreciated.”
“And tell your noble high chieftain there will be no rumors of a tauren Longwalker visiting me. To all who would ask, I will say that word reached me from an Alliance scout who managed to escape the battle. Take refreshment, then return safely.”
“May the Earth Mother smile upon you, Lady,” said Perith. “I understand my high chieftain’s choice even better now that I have met you.”
“One day,” the Jaina of the past said earnestly, “perhaps we will fight on the same side.”
“One day, perhaps. But that day is not today.”
Nor was it today, here in the present, Jaina thought. “So, Your Majesty,” she said, addressing Varian and keeping her gaze forward as the scene faded. “Are you going to arrest me for treason?”
“I have one question.”
She turned and looked at him. His scarred face was in profile, and his angry gaze was not on her, but on Baine. “Do you believe Baine knew about the mana bomb? Do you think he was part of the plan to bring all the generals to Theramore?”
“No.” The answer came swiftly, certainly, and there was a strange easing in her chest at the single word.
Varian nodded slowly. “Good,” he said. “And I haven’t decided yet. When this is over, you and Anduin are going to tell me everything.” Now he did look at her, his blue eyes showing the banked fires of his emotions. “Everything.”
“Chu’shao Whisperwind,” said Taran Zhu, “do you have anything further to ask of this witness?”
“No, I do not, Lord Zhu,” Tyrande said.
“Chu’shao Bloodhoof, you may have a moment with the Accused and—”
“I do not need a moment,” Garrosh interrupted. It had been so long since Garrosh had done anything other than sit and listen that Jaina was startled to hear his voice. It was loud, and powerful, and it carried, but it was not the arrogant bellow she was accustomed to hearing from the orc. “I have made my decision.”
“The Defender should speak—” Taran Zhu began.
“I will speak,” Garrosh said, raising his voice even louder, “and I will keep Baine Bloodhoof.”
Baine’s ears swiveled fully forward at that. Clearly he, like everyone else, Jaina supposed, had assumed that Garrosh would be outraged at the tauren’s fraternization with the enemy.
Tyrande seemed unable to believe it. “Fa’shua, I—”
“The Accused is happy with his chu’shao,” said Taran Zhu. Even he seemed a bit surprised, but he recovered almost immediately. “I suggest you accept that with good grace, Chu’shao Whisperwind. Do you have any further witnesses to summon?”
“Only one more, Fa’shua.”
“You shall do so on the morrow. Chu’shao Bloodhoof, are you prepared to subsequently bring your witnesses?”
“I am indeed,” said Baine.
“Very good. I think we have had enough surprises for one day. I will remind everyone as you depart—this temple is a place of peace. Whatever your feelings are regarding the events of today, speak of them gently, and act on them not at all.” He struck the gong three times, to formally end the day’s activities.
Jaina rose to leave, but Varian put a hand on her arm. “Not yet. We’re going to have a little talk.”
27
It was not a “little talk.”
It was a long talk; it was an uncomfortable talk; and ultimately, Anduin found it to be not really a talk at all, but a full-on shouting match.
His father was understandably furious. Both Anduin and Jaina had known Varian would be, which was why they had never mentioned Anduin’s participation in the talks Jaina had with Baine, or even that they had occurred in the first place.
“How could you aid Baine, Jaina? How could you give him funds?” Varian exploded as soon as they reached Violet Rise. Varian had erected a large canopy near his tent, where he conducted whatever business he needed to. There were chairs provided, the seat of the king of Stormwind no grander than any other, but no one sat. Rain beat a steady tattoo on the fabric.
“I gave him my own personal funds, not Theramore’s, and not the Alliance’s. And you cannot possibly think that having Magatha Grimtotem as leader of the tauren would have been a good thing for anyone, including the Alliance!” Jaina shot back.
“I didn’t have a chance to say what I thought, because you never consulted me!”
“He didn’t come to you; he came to me. And Theramore has”—Jaina turned pale and then gulped—“had gotten quite used to taking care of itself! Besides, you would not have been inclined to listen anyway, just as you are not inclined to listen now.”
Varian rubbed his eyes. “I did listen,” he said. “Today in court. I listened to a tauren Longwalker inform me that you had engaged in talks of a very delicate political nature with a race of people who were the enemies of the Alliance.”
“We were not in conflict then with the tauren or the Horde,” Jaina said.
“We are always in conflict!” Varian cried. “Somewhere, someone is doing something to cause strife. You’re too smart not to know that. That’s why things of this nature are so key—everything matters. This was important, and I shouldn’t have had to find out about it the way I did.”
“You know as well as I do that you wouldn’t have listened to Baine no matter what he said, no matter what his reasons, because he was Horde. And it was because I did that I was able to at least get the children of Theramore to safety!”
“And you’re doing the same thing now,” said Varian. “You’re the one who won’t listen to anything the Horde has to say.” Before Jaina could protest, he raised his hands in a preemptive gesture. “Let’s take a step back.” He forced himself to speak calmly. “Let’s leave Baine, and you, out of it. What I really want to know is why in the name of the Light you thought it was a good idea to drag my child into it!”
“I kind of—just stumbled on it,” Anduin said, inserting himself into the argument in an attempt to smooth things over. “I escaped Ironforge using Jaina’s hearthstone and popped right into the middle of the conversation. Don’t be angry with her, Father; it’s not like she had much of a choice.”
“I’ve a good mind to put you both in prison for a while,” Varian snapped.
“You will not address me in this manner. I am a leader in my own right, not your lieutena
nt, and not your child,” Jaina said, her voice like ice. Thunder rumbled as if in response. She trembled with anger.
“You are a member of the Alliance,” Varian retorted, stepping closer to her.
“Do you know,” said Jaina, biting off the words, “the more I think about it, the more I think the former leaders of the Kirin Tor were right—that it’s better to be independent. Do not push me, Varian Wrynn. Because I will push back if I have to.”
“Jaina—” Anduin began, but Jaina shook her head.
“Forgive me, but I think I’ve had my fill of Wrynn men for the time being. I will see you all at dinner.” She moved her hands deftly, with the practice of many years, teleporting herself to who knew where, her features appearing unkind and harsh in the purple-blue light. Then she was gone.
Father and son stood in silence for a while. The rain continued to patter over their heads. “So,” said Anduin when the pause became awkward. “Are you going to send me to prison without any supper?”
“She shouldn’t have dragged you into it,” Varian said, not smiling.
“She wouldn’t have if I hadn’t just, poof, appeared in her parlor,” Anduin said. He sat down, absently tracing a pattern on the chair’s arm with his finger. “Baine is a good person, Father.”
Varian took a seat and rested his face in his hands. “Magni . . . he was your friend, Anduin. Fearbreaker was a precious thing for him to give to you. Why did you give it away to a tauren? For him to just—throw back in your face?”
There it was—the hurt beneath the anger. “Because it felt like the right thing to do. The Light liked Baine. And he gave it back to me because he was honorable. He had chosen his side, and the last thing he wanted was to have to use Fearbreaker against Jaina in battle.”
Varian closed his eyes for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. I’m still very angry with Jaina, Son.”
“She knows why. She’s hurting now, though. I think . . . seeing her old home today was difficult for her.”
“Of course it was. This trial . . .” He shook his head. “I will be glad when it is over. Whatever the outcome, Garrosh is no longer in power. I don’t think it matters anymore if he dies or languishes in prison, as long as he was stopped.”
“Your Majesty?” It was one of Varian’s guards calling from outside the tent. “I have a missive for you.”
“Enter,” Varian called. The guard entered, saluted smartly as rainwater dripped everywhere, and gave the king a rolled-up scroll that had somehow remained dry. It was sealed with wax and bore the Pandaren characters that marked it as an official court document. Varian slid a finger beneath the seal, cracked the wax, and read. He looked absolutely furious for an instant, and then started to laugh.
“What is it?”
For answer, Varian tossed the scroll to Anduin.
To His Majesty, King Varian Wrynn:
YOU ARE SUMMONED to appear at the Temple of the White Tiger to testify for the Accused in the trial of Garrosh Hellscream.
It was signed with a tauren hoofprint.
• • •
After dinner, Anduin went down to the beach. The rain had stopped, at least for the moment, and he did not want to be around his father or Jaina. He sat on a boulder and looked out over the ocean, at the rocking ships in the harbor, at the violet light of the tower.
He heard the flapping of wings. Alert, he jumped to his feet, Fearbreaker in his hand, then relaxed when he saw a shape about the size of a large dog hovering a few yards over his head. In one forepaw, the creature carried a leather satchel.
“Care for company?” Wrathion asked.
“You know,” Anduin replied, “Jaina and my father would just as soon I not talk to you anymore, so by all means, please do come down and keep me company.”
Wrathion let out a laugh and dropped easily onto another rock near the prince. Swifter than a blink, he had changed into his human-shaped form. He was still grinning.
“I don’t see Left and Right,” Anduin said, referring to Wrathion’s nearly omnipresent bodyguards.
“I gave them the evening off. I came to see if you were all right after the rousing adventure that was today’s testimony,” he said. “I was quite prepared to break you out of prison if your father was so inclined as to put you there. I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”
“Very kind of you,” Anduin said. “That’s been bypassed for the moment, at least until after the trial. I think Father would like to see me locked up until I turn thirty-seven.”
“I am given to understand that is a sentiment shared by most human parents at times,” replied Wrathion. “You did not go see Garrosh today, I assume.”
“How did—never mind.” He hadn’t exactly tried to hide it, but he had not volunteered the information, and he was certain that no one else had. But Wrathion always seemed to find out whatever he wanted to. “I’m . . . not sure I’m going to see him again.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve given up trying to bring the fellow into the Light!” Wrathion put a hand on his heart and recoiled melodramatically. “I confess I should be rather sad to hear that, although I’ve long maintained your naiveté will be your undoing.”
Anduin rubbed his chin and sighed. “I don’t know. I’m just tired, I think. Tired of all of this. And I’m stuck here, especially now.”
“When I am a little older,” Wrathion announced, “I shall, if asked politely, take you on my back and ferry you to fascinating places, where we will have adventures that will age your father ten years in one night.”
“You have no idea how wonderful that sounds,” Anduin said morosely.
“In the meantime,” the black dragon said, “I see driftwood for a fire, to keep out the chill and provide illumination for—” With a flourish he withdrew something from the satchel. “Jihui.”
Anduin’s spirits lifted. A game whose goal was to have both parties in balance sounded like the perfect way to spend this particular evening.
“You’re on,” he said.
28
Day Seven
“Accuser, you may summon your final witness,” said Taran Zhu.
Tyrande looked tired, Jaina thought.
“May it please the court, I summon Lady Jaina Proudmoore to speak.”
Jaina rose and without haste descended the steps to the temple floor. She questioned the wisdom of what Tyrande had done yesterday for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that the night elf had besmirched the reputation of her best witness. No matter, thought Jaina. There was, surely, more than enough evidence of Garrosh’s horrendousness that even such compassionate beings as the celestials would see the need to lock him up somewhere dank and dark—and then forget he was there.
Kalec had tried to talk to her last night, but she had told him she was fine, and very tired, and she would see him in the morning at court. She then had nightmares, both in reaction to Perith’s testimony and in sick anxiety over her own.
“First, let me say, Lady Jaina, that I am truly sorry to force you to relive certain things.”
Jaina looked Tyrande directly in the eye. Bluntly, she said, “Chu’shao, I relive Theramore every day. Ask your questions.”
Tyrande nodded, looking somewhat chastised, and began to walk and speak. “Lady Jaina, as we heard yesterday from Perith Stormhoof, you had warning about the attack on Theramore.”
“I did.”
“What did you do after receiving that warning?”
“I gave instructions that the civilians of Theramore were to be notified. Those who wished to leave were free to do so. As it turned out, most of them wanted to stay and fight. Later, we sent a full ship of civilians, including all the children, to Gadgetzan. I then contacted King Varian.”
This was not as difficult as she had feared. Simply answer the questions, she told herself. Keep it impersonal.
“And what was his response?”
“He told me that he would send the 7th Legion’s naval fleet, and would recall several of h
is generals from their stations in various parts of Azeroth. He would also contact Genn Greymane, and I would speak to the other Alliance leaders for aid.”
Tyrande kept walking, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze not on Jaina but on the jury. “What happened after that?”
“I was later informed that several Horde ships arrived. They anchored just out of Alliance waters.”
“When you learned this, did you attack?”
Now Jaina did start to feel something, a sick, queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they were not in our waters. And I did not want to be the one to provoke a war.” I should have. Light help me, I should have. Maybe if we’d struck before the generals arrived . . .
“You said you sought help from the other Alliance leaders. Did you ask anyone else for aid?”
Jaina licked her lips. “Yes,” she said. “I went to Dalaran and spoke with the Council of Six. They responded to my request by sending Rhonin himself, along with several other prominent magi. Rhonin’s wife, Vereesa Windrunner, ranger-general of the Silver Covenant, also accompanied him.”
“What did you do then?”
“We awaited the reinforcements promised by King Varian. We became a city preparing for war—stockpiling food, weapons, bandages. The soldiers trained every day. We expected the Horde to come sailing into our harbor at any minute.” Her heart rate sped up as the questions drew her inexorably closer to speaking of the Destruction of Theramore itself.
“Did the promised aid arrive?”
Jaina bit back a retort. Everyone knew these events. Everyone knew what had happened at Theramore. Surely, even the celestials did. But this was what she had been waiting for, was it not? To make Garrosh Hellscream pay. And if it meant reliving the events of that horrible day again, she would do so.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, it did. The 7th Legion arrived with twenty ships and half a dozen of the Alliance’s finest generals . . . and one great admiral.” Aubrey, who had barely survived the attack on Northwatch Hold, only to die in Theramore . . .
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