than she remembered, his head resting on her shoulder. This boy had known nothing but challenge, hardship, and loss, and yet he could laugh, could embrace his “auntie,” could be excited at the prospect of visiting the frontier.
Light, let him stay a boy a little longer. Let him know at least something of peace before he has to take on adult responsibilities … again.
“You might regret this, Aunt Jaina,” he said, pulling away and regarding her seriously.
Her heart lurched at his tone of voice. “Why do you say that, Anduin?”
“Because I’m probably going to be visiting you all the time.”
Relief swept through her. “That hardship I think I can handle.” Jaina Proudmoore, ruler of Theramore and a powerful sorceress, laughed like a girl and mussed the prince of Stormwind’s bright golden hair.
EIGHT
For a change, the weather was dry and the skies were partially clear as the pair of orcs rode their wolves through Dustwallow Marsh. The orcs were male, one older, one younger. Both looked as though they had been wandering for weeks in the swamp with their old, stained clothes. They wore oversized cloaks wrapped around their frames, a wise precaution in a place usually so rainy. Their wolves, though, were surprisingly sleek coated and healthy looking to belong to such obviously down-on-their-luck masters, although they, too, were now muddy from many sessions of plodding through the muck and mire.
The trek ended in a swim out to one of the little islands off the coast, in a place called Tidefury Cove. The riders dismounted and swam side by side with their wolves. When the orcs emerged on dry land, they moved a safe distance away from the vigorous shaking that ensued as the wolves clambered ashore.
The younger orc took out a spyglass and lifted it to his face. “Right on time,” he said.
A dinghy was approaching. In it was a single, slender figure, wearing a cloak that concealed its form as the orcs’ cloaks had. But pale hands that were small and uncallused revealed that the lone occupant was female—and human.
The younger orc waded into the water as the human woman’s vessel approached. Easily he grabbed the bow and pulled the boat firmly onto the shore, extending a hand to help her out. Without hesitation, she grasped the huge, rough hand, her own barely curling around two fingers, and permitted herself to be assisted.
Once out of the boat, she slipped off her hood, revealing bright golden hair and a smile equally as bright.
“Thrall,” Jaina Proudmoore said warmly. “Someday we shall meet under better circumstances.”
“Ancestors willing, that day will not be long in coming,” Thrall rumbled, his voice deep and affectionate. He slipped off his own hood, revealing a strong, bearded, orcish face and eyes as blue as her own.
Jaina squeezed his hand and then released it, turning to his companion, an older orc with white hair pulled back in a topknot and a sparse beard. “Eitrigg,” she said, and dropped a small curtsey.
“Lady Jaina.” His voice was cooler than Thrall’s, but still kind. With a nod, he moved slightly away to higher ground, to keep watch while his warchief and the human sorceress spoke.
Jaina turned back to Thrall, her brow furrowing. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. In light of … recent events, I thought a meeting site other than our usual one at Razor Hill would be a good idea. Word has reached Stormwind of the … incident in Ashenvale.”
Thrall grimaced and ground his teeth. “Word has reached me of the incident in Ashenvale.” His voice simmered with barely contained anger.
Jaina let herself smile. “I knew that you couldn’t possibly be behind it. That the rumors you were involved weren’t true.”
“Of course they’re not true!” Thrall spat the words. “I would never condone such barbarity. And if I make a treaty with the Alliance, I intend to see that it is kept.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Still—I cannot lie. Orgrimmar, the Barrens—they are in desperate need of supplies. And there are plenty of both to be had in Ashenvale.”
“But that’s not the way to get them,” Jaina said.
“I know this,” Thrall snapped, then added more gently, “but others apparently do not understand such—subtleties. Jaina, I did not authorize that incursion, and I am furious at the level of brutality displayed toward the Sentinels. I deeply regret the violation of the treaty. But the results have proven … very popular.”
“Popular?” Jaina’s eyes widened. “I know some of the Horde have bloodthirsty natures, but—I confess I