The Kor'kron, the elite guards that were always near the warchief though usually unobtrusive, had shown him out. Cairne had always thought them fiercely loyal to Thrall; indeed, Thrall had revived the order. But it would seem that while their loyalty was certainly fierce, that loyalty was not to any one individual, but to whoever led the Horde. Cairne had listened carefully for any quiet protests or grumblings from them about the new direction the Horde was taking, at least in Orgrimmar, and heard nothing. Indeed, if there were any whisperings or mutterings, they would likely echo approval of the "glory days attitude" that Garrosh had brought to his style of "I have not seen Orgrimmar since the rebuilding, nor do I have any desire to," Hamuul Runetotem rumbled, jolting Cairne back to the present moment. "But, old friend, I do not think you asked me here to comment upon architecture."
Cairne chuckled. "Would that were the reason, but you are correct. I wished to inquire as to how the negotiations with your kaldorei contacts in the Cenarion Circle are proceeding."
At the feast to honor the returning veterans, Cairne had spoken up with a suggestion to reestablish relations with the night elves through the Circle, an area of mutual connection. Garrosh had exploded, and Thrall had had to try to calm him down. The end result was that, officially, nothing had happened.
But, unofficially, Thrall had given Hamuul permission to do whatever he thought would benefit the Horde. And Hamuul had spent the last several months clandestinely sending letters, couriers, and even representatives.
"Surprisingly well, considering everything." Hamuul replied. "It took a while to even get an initial response from the kaldorei. They were deeply angry."
"So were we."
"I explained that to them, and fortunately there are those among them who still call me friend and believed my words. It has been slow, Cairne. Slower than I would have liked, slower than I think was necessary, but things ripen in their own time. I did not wish to force a meeting, but it seems that the kaldorei now would be amenable to one such."
"This news makes an old bull happy," Cairne exclaimed, his heart swelling. "I am pleased to hear that there are some who hear the whispers of reason over the shouts of aggression."
"It is easier to hear such things in the Moonglade," Hamuul said, and Cairne nodded.
"When and where would such a meeting take place?" Cairne inquired.
"Ashenvale. A few more days of letters, and then I think it will happen."
"Ashenvale? Why not the Moonglade itself?"
"Remulos does not get involved in these sorts of affairs," Hamuul replied. Remulos was one of the sons of the demigod Cenarius, who had taught druidism to Malfurion Stormrage. A powerful, beautiful being, Remulos's form was that of a night elf and a stag; his hair and beard made of moss; his hands not flesh, but leafy, wooden talons. In this tranquil place he oversaw, peace reigned.
"He cannot prevent casual discussions, but we would not bring such potentially explosive issues to the Moonglade without his blessing. If this goes well, however, Remulos has indicated that he would permit a second meeting in the Moonglade."
"That would be good," Cairne said. "Ashenvale is still too volatile a place for my liking. You will be attending, I take it?"
"I will. I will be leading the meeting, along with an archdruid who is essentially my counterpart among the kaldorei."
"Take some of my best warriors with you," Cairne urged.
"No." Hamuul shook his head firmly. "I will not give anyone an excuse to take up arms, saying that I myself come to do so. The only weapons will be the claws, teeth, and talons we all possess in our bestial forms. My counterpart has agreed to do the same. Swords do not befit those who come with peace in their hearts."
"Hrrm," rumbled Cairne, stroking his beard. "What you say is true, though I could wish it otherwise. Still, I would not want to see anyone attack you in your bear shape, old friend. They would not end up the victor."
Hamuul chuckled. "Let us hope we do not find out. I will be careful, Cairne. More than my own life is riding on the outcome of this gathering. We are all aware of the risk we take, and we deem it worth it."
Cairne nodded and spread his arms, indicating the sacred grounds before them. "I hope I do not have to come here to commune with you afterward."
Hamuul threw back his head and laughed.
Twenty
Five bears, their fur of varied shades but all shaggy and huge, walked the verdant forests of Ashenvale. They paused to snuffle or paw at something that interested them here and there, and did not appear to be together. Bears seldom were. Still, if one had watched them long enough, and followed their apparently aimless wandering, one would have noticed that they all seemed to be heading in the same direction.
One also might have noticed that they had horns.
They reached a certain spot in the mountains slightly west of the Talondeep Path. One, a larger, more grizzled - looking beast than the others, scouted about for a few minutes, sniffing cautiously, then rose up on its hind legs and lifted its forepaws to the sky.
Claws, black and shiny, turned to long, strong fingers. Brown and white fur rippled and shortened. The bear muzzle elongated, horns now jutting from a larger head with calm, deep - set eyes. Skeleton and organs shifted within the short - furred skin. Hind legs turned to long, strong limbs with hooves and not paws, and the short tail elongated and grew whiplike, with a tuft at the end.
"I can smell them; they are coming," Hamuul Runetotem assured his fellows. "And they are alone."
Beside him the other druids emulated him, their bodies twisting, but not disharmoniously, from bear to tauren. They stood, ready, only their tails and ears moving now and then.
A few moments later five nightsabers, their coats varying shades of dark hues, crested the hill, running swiftly and elegantly. Almost at once they, too, shifted their shapes. Long, lithe, feline bodies became long, lithe, night elf bodies. Ears grew longer, hands and feet replaced paws, and their tails disappeared altogether. They stood regarding the tauren solemnly. Hamuul bowed low.
"Archdruid Renferal," he said. "I am so pleased you have come, my old friend."
"It was not without a great deal of soul - searching," Elerethe Renferal said. Hamuul noted that she did not call him "friend" in return. She was tall and graceful, with short green hair and purple skin. It was clear, though, that she had seen battle; lavender scars marred the darker violet, and her body was sinewy and muscular rather than lush.
"Your soul has guided you and your companions to this meeting, as my soul has guided me and mine," Hamuul said.
"The blood of the butchered Sentinels still calls for justice, Hamuul," Renferal replied, but even as she spoke, she stepped forward to close the distance between herself and Hamuul.
"And justice it shall have," Hamuul assured her. "But unless there can be conversation, and peace, and healing, justice cannot come." He took the initiative, sitting on the soft green grass. The other tauren druids emulated him. The kaldorei exchanged glances, but when Renferal sat, they did as well. It was a circle, of sorts, albeit one that could be divided neatly in half by race.
The coldness and precise division of races pained Hamuul. This was not a gathering of strangers, but of erstwhile friends. The ten of them had worked together for years as part of the Circle. There had been a bond that had transcended race and political divisions, a bond of what it meant to take on the form and touch the spirit of the beasts of this world, to unite with nature in a way no others understood. But that bond had been sorely tested.
Hamuul sent a silent prayer to the Earth Mother that the work they did here today would make strides toward reforging that bond, perhaps even make it stronger.