sign.
A Sentinel tried to give aid to the female’s companion, but the male shook the guard off. The Sentinel retreated with an odd respect in both her expression and stance.
The same Sentinel glanced beyond the stricken figure to Malfurion. With some relief, she started, “Archdruid! Praise Elune—”
“‘Archdruid’?” The hooded male gasped out the word, as if it meant all the world to him.
A sudden shock ran through Malfurion. He could not place the voice, but, even though it was clearly changed by stress and other factors, it was one he should have known very well.
Gingerly adjusting his precious burden, the male shifted enough to peer over his shoulder at Malfurion.
The agony that gripped the male had made some distinct changes in the face. However, the archdruid still immediately recognized the night elf before him even though it had been centuries since the latter had last been among their kind. Malfurion could scarcely believe his eyes; he had gradually come to the conclusion that accident or some other violent demise had taken the hooded figure long ago.
The name escaped as a whisper of disbelief. “Jarod Shadowsong . . .”
Haldrissa Woodshaper had been a Sentinel since nearly the creation of that army. Although she had been born some centuries before its general, Shandris, Haldrissa had recognized the skills in her leader and eagerly learned. She had thus risen up in the ranks, well earning her position as a commander.
Narrow of face and with a persistently wrinkled brow—as if she were always deep in thought—Haldrissa had just prior to the Cataclysm been promoted to overseeing night elf forces in Ashenvale. Although far from Teldrassil and Darnassus, Ashenvale, located in the northern half of the continent of Kalimdor and stretching across much of its width, was not only sacred to her people but of significance to the preservation of their civilization. The night elves and their allies carefully harvested only select areas of the vast forests, making certain not to disturb nature any more than necessary.
Haldrissa squinted as she peered into the forest ahead of her party. Like the others, she rode astride one of the muscular cats called nightsabers after their long, curved fangs. Both night elves and nightsabers were, as their names suggested, nocturnal creatures, but circumstance more and more demanded that they move about during the day too. Most of the other races with which they dealt were diurnal, day dwellers, which did not preclude their being active at night . . . which presented her with the most complicated and potentially deadly aspect of her role here.
There had been no sign of nearby activity by the Horde, but Haldrissa knew better than to trust the orcs and their allies to stay in the eastern side. Bad enough that they had a foothold in Ashenvale at all.
“What do you see, Xanon?” she asked of the male night elf to her left. He was not the most senior of her officers, but he was known for his sharp eyes, even among the Sentinels. “Anything amiss?”
Xanon leaned forward a moment, then replied, “All clear to me, Commander.”
No one else indicated otherwise. Haldrissa signaled the party to move on. The commander led a contingent of some fifty night elves on the way to inspect one of the foremost posts. Haldrissa made it a point to do regular inspections herself; nothing kept post commanders on their toes better than the knowledge that she would be checking on them.
The post was only another hour’s ride. The reason for the halt had been what thus far appeared to be a lapse on the part of the officer in charge. Haldrissa insisted that guards be set up to face not only the directions from which the Horde could be expected to attack, but also those from which it could not. If Haldrissa could imagine successfully sneaking past a post and either attacking it from behind or moving on to attack locations deeper within night elf territory, then surely the orcs’ new warchief could.
A short distance later, Haldrissa turned to Denea, her second-in-command. “I want two scouts to ride to the post, then report back . . . without being seen.”
Denea summoned the riders needed, then sent them off. Haldrissa watched the pair first become two blurs, then vanish into the distance. She hid a moment of frustration; her vision was not as sharp as it had been only a few months before. In fact, it seemed to have worsened in the past few days.
“Weapons at the ready,” she