"To the Pools of Vision!" she cried. "And the lifts—detonate the bombs, then join me!"
"At once, Elder Crone," Cor said. The bombs had been his plan, and now he hurried off to cam' out her orders.
Magatha hastened up the lodge that led to the bridge. In the space of a few more heartbeats she would be—
She skidded to a halt, her hooves slipping on the well - worn wood. Gorm reached out a hand just in time to keep his matriarch from falling down into the chasm that yawned below.
"They've cut the ropes!" Gorm yelled, tugging Magatha back to safety.
"I can see that, you stupid—" She was interrupted by an explosion. She turned back to the rise to see smoke coming up from where one of the lifts was, and smiled to herself. Now the next one. She waited for the highly anticipated sound. True, it would mean Thunder Bluff would be officially under siege for some time, but they were prepared for that.
The sound did not come.
The lift reached the top, and Baine Bloodhoof rushed forward so fast that Rahauro could not even move to intercept him. Hard on Baine's hooves were a charging bear, a Grimtotem, and several other warriors. Magatha reached for a totem, but before her fingers could close on it, Baine was upon her. He swung—not a sword, but what looked to be a mace, far too small for him.
Breath rushed out of her in a whoosh as the small mace slammed into her side. She had not had the chance to don armor, and the impact sent her flying. Pain shot through her, and before she could even struggle to breathe, let alone rise, Baine Bloodhoof was crouching over her, holding the peculiar weapon high. "Yield!" he cried. 'Yield, murderess and traitor!"
She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She still could not inhale to speak. Baine's brown eyes narrowed in… pleasure? Panic shot through her as she realized, in her silence, she had given him permission to strike.
"I… yield!" she gasped, the words barely audible over the cacophony of battle.
Baine lowered the mace. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him clench his other fist, and then she knew nothing more.
Baine stood and gazed out over the Grimtotem he had taken prisoner. Some Grimtotem had died in the fight to retake Thunder Bluff, and many of those who had survived were injured. He had ordered their wounds treated, and there were white bandages on the black fur. Their numbers had been reduced during the fierce battle, but they had died in fair combat trying to hold a city they had taken by treachery and stealth, and he did not mourn them.
The question before him was, what to do with those who remained? Especially their leader?
Magatha was among the wounded, but it did not appear to have damaged her pride any. She stood as straight and tall as ever, flanked by two Bluff watchers who appeared to be longing for any excuse to attack and finish her off. Part of Baine shared that longing. To strike off her head and impale it on a pike at the foot of the bluff as a warning, as had been done with the heads of dragons… yes, he admitted it would satisfy him greatly.
But it was not what his father would have done, and Baine knew it.
"My father let you stay here, in Thunder Bluff, Magatha," Baine said, not using her title. "He treated you fairly, hospitably, even though he knew that you were more than likely plotting against him."
Her eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared, but she did not speak in anger. She was too smart, curse her.
'You repaid that consideration by smearing poison on Garrosh Hellscream's weapon, and watching as my father died ignobly and in agony. Honor would demand a life for a life, or the challenge of mak'gora—a challenge issued to you, not to Garrosh, who I think was nothing but a pawn in your game."
Magatha tensed, ever so slightly, waiting for the challenge. Baine smiled bitterly. "I believe in honor. My father died for it. But there is more that a leader must respect. He must also know compassion, and what is best for his people."
He strode down from the lodge until he was eye to eye, hoof to hoof with her, and it was she who drew back slightly and flattened her ears.
'You like comfort, Magatha Grimtotem. You like power. I will let you live, but you will taste neither." He held out his hand. One of the Bluff watchers gave him a small pouch. Magatha's eyes widened as she recognized it.
'You know what this is. It is your totem pouch." He reached inside and brought forth one of the small, caned totems—the links Magatha had with the elements she controlled. He held it between two powerful fingers and crushed it to pieces. She tried, and failed, to not show her horror and fear at the gesture.
"I do not think for a moment this will completely sever your connection to the elements," Baine said. Nonetheless, he repeated the gesture with another totem, and another, and finally a fourth. "But I know it will anger the elements. And it will take you time—and abasement before them—to regain their favor again. I think such groveling and humility are fine things for you to taste. In fact, I will contribute even more of such things.
'You will be sent from this place to the harsh Stonetalon Mountains. There you may eke out an existence as best you may. Harm no one, and no one will harm you. Attack, and you are the enemy, and I will put no restraints on anything anyone wishes to do to you. And stir up treachery again—then, Magatha, I will come for you myself, and even the spirit of Cairne Bloodhoof urging me to calmness will not stop me from cutting off your head. Are we clear?”
She nodded.
He snorted, then drew back, eyeing the others. "There are some among you who were uneasy with the bloodshed, as Stormsong Grimtotem was. Any of you who wish to come forward and swear loyalty to me, the tauren people, and the Horde, and publicly disassociate yourselves from the stain that spreads whenever the name Grimtotem is mentioned, as Stormsong has done, you will receive a full pardon. The rest of you, go with your so - called matriarch into the wilderness. Share her fate. And pray you never see my face again."
He waited. For a long moment no one moved. Then a female, clutching the hands of two little ones, stepped forward. She knelt before Baine and bowed her head, her children imitating her.
"Baine Bloodhoof, I had no part in the slaughter of that night but confess that my mate did. I would have my children grow up here, in the safety of this peaceful city, if you will have us."
A black bull moved toward the female, placing a hand on her shoulder, then kneeling beside her. "For the sake of my mate and children, I present myself to your judgment. I am Tarakor, and it was I who led the attack against you when Stormsong deserted. I have never seen mercy in my life, but I ask it for my innocent children, if not for myself."
More and more came forward, until fully a quarter of the Grimtotem were kneeling before Baine. He was not so trusting as to think they would not need to be watched. When sharing Magatha's banishment, shame, and powerlessness was the only other option—for he intended to strip all of them of their ability to fight back, at least temporarily—he imagined many would have a sudden change of heart about their past deeds. But some of them, he also knew, were genuine in their desire. And perhaps others would become so. It was a risk he would have to take, if true healing were to happen.
He took a small, petty pleasure in the look on Magatha's face as more and more of her so - called loyal Grimtotem abandoned her. He suspected his father would be all right with that.
"Any more?" he asked. When the rest of the Grimtotem stayed where they were, he nodded. "Two dozen Bluff watchers will escort you to your new home. I cannot honestly say I wish you luck. But your deaths at least will not be on my head."