"What?" She stared at him, openmouthed.
"It's key that someone I trust stay here. This is our base. We can't risk losing it if they split their—"
"You need me on the assault."
"I told you. I need you here. Send your rangers to take out the sentries."
She shook her golden head. "No, you don't. Any soldier here would know how to hold this keep. My rangers answer to me. And I will not send them with you. Not if you order me to stay behind."
"Be reasonable," he began, but she interrupted him.
"Reasonable? I'm a veteran of more battles than you have years, Turalyon!"
“Alleria, you're — you're reckless," Turalyon said, hating to have to say it but seeing no other choice. "I've saved your life when—"
“And I've saved all of you, more than once!"
"Gentlemen," Khadgar said smoothly, clamping a hand down on Kurdran's and Danath's shoulders and steering them toward the stairs, "I'm sure you both want to see that celestial alignment I'm talking about."
"Och, aye," said Kurdran, and the three of them left the room quickly.
Turalyon was too focused on Alleria to notice that they'd been given a moment of privacy. “Alleria, you don't fight smart. Not anymore. I can't keep watching your back to save you from yourself!"
"I have a right to revenge! They butchered my family — my people—"
"You think Lirath would have wanted you to throw your life away? What kind of testament to his life would that be?"
It was the first time he had spoken of Alleria's brother, and the name stilled the hot words on her lips. Recklessly, Turalyon continued before she could speak again. "I know you're a good fighter. Just — not right now."
"Lirath… the others … I wasn't there with them. I might have been able to do something. But I wasn't there. I stayed safe while they died." Tears stood in her bright green eyes, and Turalyon inhaled swiftly. He had not seen her weep for her lost kinsmen before. "So I did the next best thing. I went after their murderers. And it helped. It kept pushing the pain away."
And suddenly Turalyon understood. "What you told me that night," he said, praying he was saying the right thing, "I had it translated." He hesitated, then whispered, "'Help me forget."
The tears welled and slipped down her angular cheekbones. "But I didn't want to forget. I don't want to let them go. If I don't grieve them… it's as if they're not really gone."
Tears stung Turalyon's own eyes. His heart was breaking for her. But she needed this. She needed to grieve, to mourn the dead. Killing orcs was no longer the panacea it once had been; it was no longer keeping the pain at bay, and she was starting to come undone with the holding-in of all of it.
"I can't stay behind. Don't ask me to. I stayed behind the last time. I won't watch someone I love go to his death while I—"
Suddenly her arms were around him, her head buried against his chest, and he held her tight. Her slender body shook with sobs too long held in check, and she clung to him like a drowning woman. Turalyon pressed a kiss against her golden hair, inhaling her scent of pine and loam and flowers.
"I will never leave you behind," he vowed.
She turned her wet face up to his. "And I," she whispered as he bent to kiss her, "will never leave you."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Finished!" Ner’zhul sank back onto his throne and closed his eyes a moment, before glancing down at the scroll that lay unrolled across his lap. It had taken him months of research, planning, study, and concentration, but at last the spell was complete! Once the alignment occurred, he would be able to open portals to the other worlds, and his people could once more have a world many – many of them, even - as vibrant as they were themselves. And it would all be because of him.
"Good," Kilrogg rumbled from his stance nearby. "A few more days until the alignment is complete, then we can finally abandon this forsaken place to the humans and begin the task of rebuilding our people!"
Ner’zhul regarded the one-eyed old warrior thoughtfully. Kilrogg had always impressed him, as much for his sharp mind and excellent tactical sense as for his fighting skills, and when the scarred Bleeding Hollow chieftain had limped back through the portal. Ner’zhul had seen that sending him back out into battle would be a waste. Besides, there weren't many Bleeding Hollow warriors left — two years of hiding from humans and their allies had taken a heavy toll on the once-large clan. Ner’zhul had chosen to keep Kilrogg by his side instead, and to make the Bleeding Hollow clan his bodyguards. His own Shadowmoon clan had not been pleased with that, of course, but they were still numerous enough to be a force against the Alliance. Besides, Ner’zhul thought, he was warchief of the Horde now, not just chieftain of the Shadowmoon. He couldn't show favoritism.
"We have a journey ahead of us first," he told Killrogg and gestured at the citadel around them. "I cannot risk the spell failing. We have the skies cooperating with us; we must command the cooperation of the very land as well. I need to access the ley lines, as many as possible, so that Draenor herself will power the spell that releases us from her diseased grip." He sighed. "There is only one place that is ideal for such a task. The Temple of Karabor."
Kilrogg's one eye widened, but his expression did not change otherwise. "The Black Temple!" he said in a hushed tone.
Ner’zhul nodded. He did his best not to reveal the disgust he felt. He still remembered the war against the draenei with revulsion and not a little guilt, and the idea of entering their former temple sent chills down him, but he knew Kilrogg and the rest of the Horde did not share his sentiment. For them the death of the draenei was still a glorious victory, and the Black Temple a noble spoil. It was time for Ner’zhul to believe this also, if he were to lead them correctly. "If I perform the rite there, we cannot but succeed."
"I will make arrangements for us to depart at once then," Kilrogg said.
"Depart? Where are we going?" Kargath asked as he stomped into the throne room. The Shattered Hand chieftain had a broken arrow shaft protruding from his left shoulder. He reached up now and tore it out with a grunt. Ner’zhul had put Kargath in charge of the attacks against the Alliance stronghold, and the fool insisted upon leading many of the skirmishes himself. Most of the time they never even faced any of the humans directly — the Alliance archers rained death down upon them from above until Kargath got fed up and signaled the retreat. But at least it kept the Alliance occupied — and Kargath as well.
"I must go to the Black Temple when the stars align to cast the spell and open the new portals," Ner’zhul explained, rolling the scroll and tucking it securely inside the pouch hanging from his belt. He rose from his throne and patted it absently. It was not the most comfortable scat he had ever had, but it was certainly the most impressive. He would have a new one crafted on whatever world they went to next.
"I will gather the troops," Kargath replied, turning to go, but Ner’zhul stopped him. "No." he said. "Not yet. Summon Dentarg and Gorefiend instead. I will speak with the four of you here, and give you each your orders." Kargath hesitated, and Ner’zhul barked, "Now!" Kargath raised his scythe-blade hand in salute and hurried from the room.
"I will send word to Hellscream," Kilrogg said, and turned to leave.
“No.”
Kilrogg turned slowly, eyeing Ner’zhul. "They are still on Azeroth. We need to give Grom and his clan orders as well."
"No, we do not. Grom Hellscream already has his orders. He is part of this plan as well." At Kilrogg's look of uncase, Ner’zhul drew himself up to his full height. "You do not doubt my wisdom, do you, Kilrogg?"