Horde works differently than the Alliance, Thrall, but—if you can find a way to do what I urge you to, you will find a path open to you that would otherwise not be.”
“There are many paths open to us at all times, Jaina,” Thrall said. “As leaders of those who trust us, we owe it to them to examine every one.”
She extended her hands to him, and he clasped them gently. “Then I shall just have to hope that the Light guides you, Thrall.”
“And I hope your ancestors watch over and protect you and yours, Jaina Proudmoore.”
She smiled up at him warmly, as another fair-haired human girl had in the not-so-distant past, then Jaina returned to her small boat. Still, Thrall thought as he gave the dinghy a good shove, he saw a little furrow in her forehead that told him she was still troubled.
So was he.
He folded his arms and watched the water take her back toward her home. Eitrigg came quietly down to join his warchief.
“It is a pity,” Eitrigg said, apropos of apparently nothing.
“What is?” asked Thrall.
“That she is not an orc,” Eitrigg said. “Strong and smart and greathearted. A leader all on her own. She would bear strong sons and brave daughters. A fine mate she could make someone someday, if she so chose. A pity she is not an orc, and so cannot be yours.”
Thrall couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed loudly, startling some crows resting in a nearby tree into cawing angrily and flapping away in a flurry of black wings to a quieter perch.
“We are coming off wars with the Lich King and nightmares themselves,” Thrall said. “Our people are starving, thirsting, and reverting to barbarism. The king of Stormwind thinks me a brute, and the elements turn deaf ears to my pleas for understanding. And you speak of mates and children?”
The old orc was completely unruffled. “What better time? Thrall, everything is unsettled now. Including your place as warchief of the Horde. You have no mate, no child, no one to carry on your blood if you were suddenly to join the ancestors. You have not even seemed interested in such a thing.”
Thrall growled, “I have had more on my mind than dalliances and getting a mate with child,” he said.
“As I say … those reasons are precisely why that is so important. Too—there is a comfort and a clarity to be found in the arms of one’s true mate that can be found nowhere else. The heart neversoars as high as when listening to the laughter of one’s children. These are things you have put aside for perhaps too long—things that I have known, though they were taken from me. I would not trade that knowing for anything else in this or any other life.”
“I need no lecture,” Thrall grumbled.
Eitrigg shrugged. “Perhaps that is true. Perhaps it is you who needs to speak, not I. Thrall, you are troubled. I am old, and I have learned much. And one of those things I have learned is how to listen.”
He slogged into the water, his wolf following. Thrall stood for a moment, then followed. When they reached the shore, both orcs swung onto the backs of their wolf mounts and said nothing more. They rode in silence for a while, and Thrall collected his thoughts.
There was something he had not shared with anyone, not even Eitrigg. He might have shared it with Drek’Thar, had that shaman still been in possession of his faculties. As it was, though, Thrall had kept it to himself, a cold knot of a fearful secret. Inwardly, he was at war with himself.
At last, after they had ridden for some time, he spoke. “You may understand after all, Eitrigg. You, too, have had interaction with humans that has been more than slaughter. I straddle two worlds. I was raised by humans, but born an orc, and I have gleaned strength from both. I
know
both. That knowledge was power, once. I can say without boasting that it made me a unique leader, with unique skills, able to work with two sides at a time when unity had been utterly vital to the survival of all of
“There are many paths open to us at all times, Jaina,” Thrall said. “As leaders of those who trust us, we owe it to them to examine every one.”
She extended her hands to him, and he clasped them gently. “Then I shall just have to hope that the Light guides you, Thrall.”
“And I hope your ancestors watch over and protect you and yours, Jaina Proudmoore.”
She smiled up at him warmly, as another fair-haired human girl had in the not-so-distant past, then Jaina returned to her small boat. Still, Thrall thought as he gave the dinghy a good shove, he saw a little furrow in her forehead that told him she was still troubled.
So was he.
He folded his arms and watched the water take her back toward her home. Eitrigg came quietly down to join his warchief.
“It is a pity,” Eitrigg said, apropos of apparently nothing.
“What is?” asked Thrall.
“That she is not an orc,” Eitrigg said. “Strong and smart and greathearted. A leader all on her own. She would bear strong sons and brave daughters. A fine mate she could make someone someday, if she so chose. A pity she is not an orc, and so cannot be yours.”
Thrall couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed loudly, startling some crows resting in a nearby tree into cawing angrily and flapping away in a flurry of black wings to a quieter perch.
“We are coming off wars with the Lich King and nightmares themselves,” Thrall said. “Our people are starving, thirsting, and reverting to barbarism. The king of Stormwind thinks me a brute, and the elements turn deaf ears to my pleas for understanding. And you speak of mates and children?”
The old orc was completely unruffled. “What better time? Thrall, everything is unsettled now. Including your place as warchief of the Horde. You have no mate, no child, no one to carry on your blood if you were suddenly to join the ancestors. You have not even seemed interested in such a thing.”
Thrall growled, “I have had more on my mind than dalliances and getting a mate with child,” he said.
“As I say … those reasons are precisely why that is so important. Too—there is a comfort and a clarity to be found in the arms of one’s true mate that can be found nowhere else. The heart neversoars as high as when listening to the laughter of one’s children. These are things you have put aside for perhaps too long—things that I have known, though they were taken from me. I would not trade that knowing for anything else in this or any other life.”
“I need no lecture,” Thrall grumbled.
Eitrigg shrugged. “Perhaps that is true. Perhaps it is you who needs to speak, not I. Thrall, you are troubled. I am old, and I have learned much. And one of those things I have learned is how to listen.”
He slogged into the water, his wolf following. Thrall stood for a moment, then followed. When they reached the shore, both orcs swung onto the backs of their wolf mounts and said nothing more. They rode in silence for a while, and Thrall collected his thoughts.
There was something he had not shared with anyone, not even Eitrigg. He might have shared it with Drek’Thar, had that shaman still been in possession of his faculties. As it was, though, Thrall had kept it to himself, a cold knot of a fearful secret. Inwardly, he was at war with himself.
At last, after they had ridden for some time, he spoke. “You may understand after all, Eitrigg. You, too, have had interaction with humans that has been more than slaughter. I straddle two worlds. I was raised by humans, but born an orc, and I have gleaned strength from both. I
know
both. That knowledge was power, once. I can say without boasting that it made me a unique leader, with unique skills, able to work with two sides at a time when unity had been utterly vital to the survival of all of
Similar Books
