their warriors are clearly eager for bloodshed, their commanders are holding them back.”
“You saw their strength?”
“They have put together a powerful force,” the other reluctantly answered. “Enough to crush us.”
“And they are waiting? Did you see anything else?”
“I saw the goblins working on their infernal mechanisms, including some wagons that look to be the source of that foul-smelling mist. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Haldrissa recalled more of Su’ura’s report. “Catapults?”
“A few. The same type we have seen in the past. Not very accurate things.”
That dismissive description did not sit well with the veteran officer, who well remembered Su’ura’s words concerning the near perfection with which the boulders had been lobbed into Silverwing. If these were indeed the same catapults, then the orcs had trained their crews well . . . in fact, better than ever.
The catapults somewhat explained the reason the Horde might not yet have attacked, such heavy equipment always slower to bring to the front. Yet, that still did not satisfy Haldrissa. Either Garrosh had the expectation of more troops arriving to strengthen his force or he waited for the Sentinels to do something.
But what could that be? she asked herself again.
The growing numbers on the Horde’s side forced Haldrissa to make a decision that she had not wanted. Sending messengers back, she called in every available Sentinel to be brought up to the lines. The Alliance had to hold here. If they allowed the orcs to make any deeper headway into western Ashenvale, they risked losing the entire region.
To her surprise, it was not the reinforcements she had summoned who first arrived. Rather, it was a herald, riding like the wind. At first, Haldrissa feared that somehow Garrosh had gotten around her line and had attacked the outposts behind, but the rider looked anything but horrified as he jumped off his panting nightsaber.
“Help has arrived!” he called to her, heedless of the fact that others heard his triumphant shout. “The Horde will pay for Silverwing!”
“What are you saying?” Haldrissa demanded as Denea and others gathered. “Are the reinforcements from the western outposts on their way already?”
“They and many more, Commander! They and many more! Our ships landed this morning! The others have already disembarked and pushed victoriously through the Horde stronghold of Zoram’gar Outpost, where they met with little resistance!”
“‘Disembarked’? What do you mean? Who? Where are these reinforcements from?”
“Darnassus! Your messenger made it to Darnassus!”
“Aradria?” Denea blurted. “She lives?”
Some of the rider’s joy momentarily faded. “Only long enough to tell all she knew. Then her spirit rose to join the Mother Moon.”
“Brave,” Haldrissa remarked. “She will be honored.”
“I will make certain ten orcs pay for her life,” growled Denea.
The commander had no time for bravado. Battle had a way of reducing a warrior’s desire to simply surviving. To the rider she asked, “And does General Shandris lead them?”
“Nay, though she has come too.” The male night elf could not keep from grinning. “It is the high priestess herself who heads the expedition!”
“The high priestess?” All around them, Sentinels looked stunned, awed. Haldrissa could scarcely believe what she heard. “Tyrande Whisperwind is in Ashenvale?”
“Yes . . . and soon, she will be among us. So she promises!”
The startling news could not help but lighten the Sentinels’ hearts. The high priestess, the voice of Elune on Azeroth, not only had heard the peril of her servants but had come to personally lead them to victory over the Horde.
“The orcs were fools to wait,” Denea said with relish. “You were right to have us hold, Commander! Now they will pay for Silverwing . . . pay a hundredfold!”
Haldrissa, too, felt her confidence rising. Garrosh Hellscream was a foe with whom to be reckoned, but against Tyrande Whisperwind, who had some ten millennia more experience in war, the orc surely had no chance. Final victory, Haldrissa told herself, would be the Alliance’s.
And yet . . . she could not help glancing toward the direction of the enemy and wondering.
• • •
She should be in Ashenvale by now, Malfurion thought sourly. She is in Ashenvale while I go around hunting shadows. . . .
That was not exactly the truth. Maiev and her brother were doing much of the investigating, while Malfurion spent most of his time trying to get the Highborne to see reason.
The Highborne were becoming angrier and angrier at the lack of success. They had begun to do some investigations of their own, especially Var’dyn. Unfortunately, that had put them at odds with many of the