World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,116

well-worn wood. Gorm reached out a hand just in time to keep his matriarch from falling down into the chasm that yawned below.

“They’ve cut the ropes!” Gorm yelled, tugging Magatha back to safety.

“I can see that, you stupid—” She was interrupted by an explosion. She turned back to the rise to see smoke coming up from where one of the lifts was, and smiled to herself. Now the next one. She waited for the highly anticipated sound. True, it would mean Thunder Bluff would be officially under siege for some time, but they were prepared for that.

The sound did not come.

The lift reached the top, and Baine Bloodhoof rushed forward so fast that Rahauro could not even move to intercept him. Hard on Baine’s hooves were a charging bear, a Grimtotem, and several other warriors. Magatha reached for a totem, but before her fingers could close on it, Baine was upon her. He swung—not a sword, but what looked to be a mace, far too small for him.

Breath rushed out of her in a whoosh as the small mace slammed into her side. She had not had the chance to don armor, and the impact sent her flying. Pain shot through her, and before she could even struggle to breathe, let alone rise, Baine Bloodhoof was crouching over her, holding the peculiar weapon high. “Yield!” he cried. “Yield, murderess and traitor!”

She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She still could not inhale to speak. Baine’s brown eyes narrowed in … pleasure? Panic shot through her as she realized, in her silence, she had given him permission to strike.

“I … yield!” she gasped, the words barely audible over the cacophony of battle.

Baine lowered the mace. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him clench his other fist, and then she knew nothing more.

Baine stood and gazed out over the Grimtotem he had taken prisoner. Some Grimtotem had died in the fight to retake Thunder Bluff, and many of those who had survived were injured. He had ordered their wounds treated, and there were white bandages on the black fur. Their numbers had been reduced during the fierce battle, but they had died in fair combat trying to hold a city they had taken by treachery and stealth, and he did not mourn them.

The question before him was, what to do with those who remained? Especially their leader?

Magatha was among the wounded, but it did not appear to have damaged her pride any. She stood as straight and tall as ever, flanked by two Bluffwatchers who appeared to be longing for any excuse to attack and finish her off. Part of Baine shared that longing. To strike off her head and impale it on a pike at the foot of the bluff as a warning, as had been done with the heads of dragons … yes, he admitted it would satisfy him greatly.

But it was not what his father would have done, and Baine knew it.

“My father let you stay here, in Thunder Bluff, Magatha,” Baine said, not using her title. “He treated you fairly, hospitably, even though he knew that you were more than likely plotting against him.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared, but she did not speak in anger. She was too smart, curse her.

“You repaid that consideration by smearing poison on Garrosh Hellscream’s weapon, and watching as my father died ignobly and in agony. Honor would demand a life for a life, or the challenge of mak’gora—a challenge issued to you, not to Garrosh, who I think was nothing but a pawn in your game.”

Magatha tensed, ever so slightly, waiting for the challenge. Baine smiled bitterly. “I believe in honor. My father died for it. But there is more that a leader must respect. He must also know compassion, and what is best for his people.”

He strode down from the lodge until he was eye to eye, hoof to hoof with her, and it was she who drew back slightly and flattened her ears.

“You like comfort, Magatha Grimtotem. You like power. I will let you live, but you will taste neither.” He held out his hand. One of the Bluffwatchers gave him a small pouch. Magatha’s eyes widened as she recognized it.

“You know what this is. It is your totem pouch.” He reached inside and brought forth one of the small, carved totems—the links Magatha had with the elements she controlled. He held it between two powerful fingers and crushed it to pieces. She