The moment dragged out, heavy with tension, but Kilrogg eventually inclined his head. "Of course not, shaman."
"Go gather your warriors," Ner’zhul said to Kilrogg after Kargath had gone. "Tell them to make ready. we will depart shortly."
Kilrogg nodded and left as well, and Ner’zhul began pacing the room. He wondered if the bomb had worked as Gorefiend assured him it would. It must have; Grom had not charged through, red eyes blazing, demanding blood. That was well. Hellscream had always been a difficult one to manage, but he had served his purpose. He was no longer necessary.
Kilrogg returned shortly, a simple nod confirming that his warriors would be ready. Gorefiend arrived a few minutes later, and both Kargath and Dentarg were right behind him.
"Good," Ner’zhul said when all his lieutenants were present. "I have completed the spell," he told Gorefiend and Dentarg, and the two smiled.
"I knew you could do it, master!" Dentarg said.
"You will be going to the Black Temple, then?" Gorefiend asked, and his smile widened to a grin at both Ner’zhul's and Dentarg's surprise. Ner’zhul realized he should have expected this. Gorefiend had been one of the most promising young shaman he had seen, in terms of ability and perceptiveness if not empathy, and he had grown into a powerful, confident, clever warlock even before his death. Since returning as a death knight, he had only grown in strength and cunning. He would become a danger soon.
"Yes. It is the ideal place to cast such a spell."
"I can have the Horde warriors ready by nightfall,” Kargath reported. "We will leave behind a small force to man the walls here, and the rest will protect you along your way."
But Gorefiend shook his head. "The Alliance won't fall for our ruse much longer. And when they realize we have only been striking to keep them pinned up in their hold, they will attack with their full strength."
Ner’zhul nodded—-he had already guessed as much himself. "You will remain here, with your clan," he instructed Kargath. "Hold off the Alliance forces when they attack, while we go ahead to the Black Temple," He frowned. "I will need time. You must delay them as much as possible. If you survive, meet us there."
Kargath paled slightly, then straightened and nodded. "The plains before these walls will be piled high with the bodies of their dead!" he promised, raising his scythe-hand. He nodded to the other three, and then turned on his heel and stalked off. They could hear him shouting orders once he'd left the room.
"They cannot win," Dentarg commented after a moment.
"They don't have to," Ner’zhul replied. "All he has to do is keep the Alliance from following us long enough for me to complete the spell." He shrugged. "This citadel is strong, and his Shattered Hand warriors are tough. They will put up a good fight, and the rest of our people will honor their memory on all the worlds we conquer in their name."
"Of course." Dentarg took the subtle rebuke with only a slight wince. "I do not doubt Kargath's loyalty, or the prowess of his warriors. He will fight to the end."
"Yes." Ner’zhul eyed the Shadowmoon ogre mage. "And you will fight with him."
"What?" This time Dentarg rocked back in surprise. "But master, you will need me at the Black Temple! My place is at your side!"
Sudden fury welled up inside Ner’zhul, hot and pure. "Your place is wherever I tell you it is!" He snarled, his voice deepening with his anger.
Dentarg's eyes widened. "Your face…" he murmured, cringing back, fear and shock on his own visage. "The skull…!"
The moment passed, and Ner’zhul felt the fury leave him. He reached to touch his white-painted face; it felt the same to him as it always had.
"They have magi of their own, these humans," he said, his voice gentler. "Someone must be here to stop them, someone with enough magic to hold his own. Someone I can trust." He stepped forward, stretching his hand up to place it on the ogre's shoulder. Dentarg stepped backward, and Ner’zhul let his hand fall. "That someone must be you."
Dentarg glanced down at Gorefiend. "Why doesn't he stay?"
"I have far more knowledge of rifts and portals than you do," the death knight said. "Ner’zhul will need my help with the ritual, or I would stay here and teach those humans a thing or two about magic."
Dentarg's small, piggy eyes darted back to Ner’zhul.
"I do need him with me," Ner’zhul said in an avuncular, almost apologetic tone. "And while I would have you there as well, you can aid me far more by being here and lending Kargath your sorcerous skills."
The ogre finally nodded. "I will do as you command, master. I will stop the human magi. And if I survive, I will join you at the Black Temple." The desire to see that place and walk its halls was naked in his voice.
"Good." Ner’zhul nodded and turned away. They both knew the chances of Dentarg's surviving were slim. "I will leave the black dragons here to help in the battle. Go now and coordinate with Kargath." From the corner of his eye he saw Dentarg nod and listened as the ogre stalked out of the room. Once those thunderous footsteps had faded away, Ner’zhul turned back to Kilrogg and Gorefiend.
"Gather your warriors and your death knights." he told them. "We leave at once,"
Less than an hour later. Ner’zhul was astride a wolf loping from Hellfire Citadel, surrounded by Kilrogg and his warriors, Gorefiend and his death knights scouted ahead on their reanimated steeds. Behind them, Kargath Bladefist and his orcs cheered from the citadel walls, chanting Ner’zhul's name. The Horde leader rested one hand on his pouch, making sure the scroll was still there, knotted the other in his wolf's thick pelt, and rode on.
He did not look back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alleria had stayed with Turalyon that night. They had talked for a long, long time, and the chasm that had yawned between them had been bridged. When they could speak no longer, they let their hearts and bodies continue the healing. They had emerged from his quarters together the next morning, and if there were knowing grins from their friends, both knew there was also genuine happiness. Even though they faced death today, they would do so knowing that there was much joy waiting for them if they survived.
And they would survive. Turalyon was not about to let her go, not now that they'd found each other again.
He had kissed her hard, and she had slipped off in the predawn light with her rangers. They had discussed signals and such, and finally decided on a time.
"We will douse the lights for ten heartbeats, then relight them if we have taken the watch tower," she had said. "If we haven't taken them all by the time the sun is about to clear the horizon, come anyway," Alleria had said. "They will be able to see as well as you an hour later and this plan will have been for naught."
He'd nodded. Turalyon was at peace with her fighting out of his sight now; he knew she would take no unnecessary risks. She had returned to herself again.
Danath would lead the initial, decoy charge, while Turalyon would bring up the main offense once the Horde forces had engaged them in combat. Danath and his men would be outnumbered, but not for long.
"It will be harrowing for a while," Turalyon warned him. "You'll have to trust that all is going according to plan." He hesitated. "It might feel like the portal battle all over again, Danath."
Danath had regarded his commander with steely eyes. "No, it won't. This time, we're the ones who are taking those green bastards by surprise. I trust you, Turalyon. The ghosts of those dead boys will be fighting alongside us. They'll be at peace when we trap the orcs between two fronts."