World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,9

raised, but halted the blow in time.

“Retreat! We have the wounded! The battle is on the ship now!” Cairne shouted at him, shaking his arm.

Garrosh nodded. “Retreat!” he cried, his voice carrying over the fray. “Retreat to the ship! We will continue to fight and slaughter our enemies on the water!”

The few combatants left fighting turned at once and hastened to the shore, leaping into the boats even as they pushed off for Mannoroth’s Bones. A Kvaldir wrenched one hapless orc from inside the skiff and dragged her onto the shore, where he proceeded to hack her limb from limb. Cairne forced himself to shut out her cries, shoving the last boat off with all his strength and clambering into it.

There were several of the giant humanoids on the ship already. Captain Tula was shouting to shove off, and her crew was scrambling to obey. The anchor was hauled up and the ship pushed off toward open water. The Kvaldir vessels, wreathed in the cold, clinging fog, pursued. The sight was less frightening now that everyone understood they faced a living foe, but the danger was still very real. The crew had held its own while the remnants of the Warsong offensive struggled to get to the ship, but now they were able to attend to their duties while the soldiers fought. The Kvaldir ships pulled up alongside, close enough for Cairne to see the leering, furious faces of the murderous enemy.

“Do not let them board!” shouted Garrosh. He dispatched a foe and, leaping over the still-twitching corpse, chopped the hands off of a Kvaldir attempting to climb aboard. The Kvaldir screamed and fell into the freezing waters. “Tula! Push us out to sea! We must outrun them!”

The frantic crew obeyed. Cairne, Garrosh, and the others fought like demons. Archers and gunmen fired at the enemy vessel. Several bowmen lit their arrows on fire, aiming for the sails. A great cheer went up as one of them caught. Bright orange flames pierced the cold gray of the fog, and the sail began to crackle as the fire spread. Mannoroth’s Bones lurched toward open water. Cairne fully expected the Kvaldir to follow, but they did not. He heard cries in their ugly language as some hastened to put out the fire that was consuming their ship while others rushed to the bow and hurled curses at the rapidly disappearing Horde vessel.

Cairne suddenly felt the pain of his wounds and grimaced. He permitted himself to lie down in the boat and close his eyes for a moment. Let the pretend ghosts rail. Today, fewer than they expected have fallen to them.

And for now, Cairne thought wearily, that was enough.

THREE

I am saddened to depart this place,” Garrosh said as they stood on the deck of Mannoroth’s Bones a few hours into their journey.

Cairne stared at him. “Saddened? I would think Northrend symbolized a place of carnage and loss. Many of our best and brightest were slain here. I have never been one to mourn leaving a battlefield.”

Garrosh snorted. “It has been a long time since you were on a battlefield … elder.”

Cairne’s brows drew together and he straightened, towering over even Garrosh. “For an elder, it seems my memory is sharper than yours, young one. What do you think the last few hours were? Do you disregard the sacrifices that your soldiers made? Do you sneer at the wounds I and others now bear because of it?”

Garrosh muttered something and did not answer, but it was clear to the tauren that Garrosh did not regard a siege in the same light as a no doubt glorious battle on some open plain. Perhaps he thought there was some shame in being trapped in the first place. Cairne had seen too much to be so foolish, but the blood ran hot in the young orc. Garrosh would learn that it was in how one fought, not where or when, that honor was born. And by that standard, the Horde had given a proud accounting of itself.

And so, he had to admit, had Garrosh. His reckless leaping into the fray had paid off—this time. But apparently, according to others he had talked with, even Saurfang, who clearly disliked the young orc, it had paid off a number of times before. Where did boldness become recklessness? Instinct become bloodlust? As he shivered a little in the sharp, biting wind blowing off the arctic seas despite his thick fur, his body stiffening up from its wounds and the