gone. Malfurion, aware of the news he had not yet had the opportunity to present to the Highborne, solemnly waited. The archdruid wanted to hear Var’dyn out to see how much the latter knew.
“I am here concerning the disappearance,” Var’dyn bluntly stated. “You know that.”
Malfurion waited for the Highborne to continue, but that apparently was all the mage wished to say for the moment. Instead, Var’dyn looked expectantly at the archdruid.
There is no use delaying the inevitable, Malfurion thought. “So, Maiev Shadowsong has informed the Highborne of everything already—”
He got no further: Var’dyn’s perplexed expression told him that the mage had no idea whatsoever about anything concerning Maiev—or her discovery.
“What should we know about, Archdruid?”
“Thera’brin is dead. Murdered.”
Var’dyn stiffened. “Tell me.”
Malfurion did, leaving out no detail. The spellcaster remained stone-faced throughout. The only true sign of his growing fury was his hands, which folded into tight fists and stayed so.
“The body will be returned to us immediately,” Var’dyn declared when Malfurion finished. His voice held no emotion. He stared past the other night elf, as if seeing something far, far away. “There will be no further desecration of it by anyone for any reason.”
“That was the intention. Maiev—”
“Yes . . . the warden. She can continue with her investigation, but she will not speak with us. If there is anything we learn, we will relate it to you, Archdruid. I leave it to you to let her know what she needs.”
It was hardly the most logical system, but the Highborne were not very trusting—and, at the moment, Malfurion could not entirely blame them.
“I will speak to her as soon as I can,” he promised Var’dyn.
The mage did not answer, his gaze once again distant. The edge of his mouth twitched. Malfurion grew disturbed.
“Var’dyn. I swear that Thera’brin’s death will be investigated thoroughly and the assassins brought to justice! I only ask that the Highborne have some patience—”
“We cannot afford patience, Archdruid,” Var’dyn blurted. He finally looked directly at Malfurion again, and in those eyes the archdruid read a sense of dread. “You see. I did not come to speak with you about Thera’brin. Another of my people has gone missing.”
12
THE HORDE STRIKES
There was still no word from Darnassus, although Haldrissa hoped for it soon. Nevertheless, she went on with her own plans to organize against this latest Horde incursion. Of necessity, that meant a swift, simple ceremony for poor Xanon.
The commander said appropriate words for her dead officer, then turned over the final moments to Kara’din, one of the two druids assigned to her here in Ashenvale as part of some project of the high priestess and the archdruid’s to bring the night elf race closer together. The other, Parsis, was somewhere in the forest behind them, wandering the Emerald Dream or something—Haldrissa was not quite sure. She was as devoted to the ways of her people as most night elves, but the druids were a lot that sometimes baffled and frustrated her. They often seemed to be half-asleep—or more, even—and spoke about aspects of the world that had no practical use for a soldier.
As soon as the funeral finished, Haldrissa headed back. Denea followed close. Although her second obeyed every order she gave without question, Haldrissa could sense a distance growing between them. She was certain that Denea and some of the other officers blamed their commander for not only Xanon’s death but the other losses as well. Of course, most of her officers had not been out in the field as long as Haldrissa, so for the moment she forgave their naïveté. If they survived life half as long as she had, they would learn.
But will they get that opportunity? she suddenly asked herself. This latest intrusion by the Horde looked to be on a far greater scale than in the past.
“Denea . . .”
“Yes, Commander?”
“I want four scouts to take their hippogryphs toward the northeast. Not so far as we journeyed. From the air, they should be able to see enough even then.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Oh, and how soon will the full mounted contingent be ready?”
“We can ride first thing tomorrow.” Although Denea tried to maintain a steadiness in her voice, a hint of anticipation crept into it.
Haldrissa made certain that her own voice remained calm and in command. “If the scouts return with their report by then, we shall. We do not move until then.”
“With your permission, then, I will go get the scouts.”
Haldrissa’s nod was all Denea needed. She rushed off, obviously determined to see to it