Doomhammer considered this. "You will clear the way for us," he said out loud, "in exchange for our leaving your lands unharmed in return?"
The man nodded. "That is correct."
Doomhammer stood and stepped forward, until he was less than two feet from the man. This close he could make out some of the stranger's features beneath the hood, and they were narrow and elegant and calculating despite his obvious fear. The man reminded him of Gul'dan in some ways, clever and out for his own gain, but most likely too cowardly to betray a stronger force. "Very well," he said finally. "I agree. Show me the quickest path through these mountains and I will lead my warriors through at speed, without stopping for plunder. When we conquer this land I will place my protection around these mountains, that none may violate them. You and yours shall be safe."
"Excellent." The cloaked man smiled and clapped his hands together like a child. "I knew you would be reasonable." He pulled a rolled—up parchment from his belt and handed it to Doomhammer. "Here is a map of this area," he explained. "I have marked this valley to help orient you."
Doomhammer unrolled the map and studied it. "Yes, this is very clear," he said after a moment.
"Good." The man watched him a second. "I will return to my own people, then," he said after a pause.
Doomhammer nodded but did not say anything, and after a moment the man turned and walked quickly away, ducking back between the rocks and carefully working his way down the cliff beyond the valley. For a moment Doomhammer considered going after him. A single quick blow would finish such a man, and he already had the map. But that would be dishonorable. One of the things he hated about his own people, about what they had become, was their lack of honor. Before, on Draenor, they had been a noble race. But Gul'dan's treachery had changed all that, making them little more than bloodthirsty savages. Doomhammer was determined to restore his race's pride and purity, and that meant following a strict code of behavior. The man had treated with him in good faith, and Doomhammer would not betray that. He would follow the path the man had marked, and if it proved quick and the human troops did not block them he would honor his half of the agreement.
With a shake of his head Doomhammer rerolled the scroll and stuck it in his own belt, then turned back to toward the trail he had used to reach this valley. He would summon his lieutenants once he returned and show them the route they would take.
"You summoned us, your Majesty?" General Hath, the commander of Alterac's forces, stood at the half—opened door to the map room. Perenolde could see the other army commanders behind the stout general.
"Yes, come in, General, officers," Perenolde said, trying to keep his voice calm beckoning them in. "I have just received some new information about the Horde and its movements, and wished to share it with you."
He saw Hath and a few of the others exchange quick glances, but they said nothing as they followed him over to the impressive tapestry—map covering the far wall. It showed Alterac from edge to edge, with towns and forts picked out in silver thread and the castle itself in gold.
"I have it under good authority," Perenolde began, "that the Horde is indeed heading toward us." Several of the officers gasped. "They apparently plan to invade Lordaeron, and have chosen to cross the mountains and approach Capital City from the north side."
"How far away are they?" Colonel Kavdan asked urgently. "How many of them are there? What sort of weapons are they carrying?" Several of the others were murmuring behind him.
Perenolde held up a hand and the officers fell silent. "I do not know how far away they are," he answered, "though I suspect a day, perhaps two, no more. I have no idea of their numbers, but certainly from all reports they are a formidable force." He smiled, though he knew it was weak. "That, however, is no longer our concern."
General Hath straightened. "Not our concern, your Majesty?" he asked, his breath setting his thick graying mustache aflutter. "But we are part of the Alliance, and have pledged ourselves to battling the Horde together."
"The situation has changed," Perenolde informed him, aware that he was sweating heavily—and that his officers had noticed. "I have reconsidered our options, and have decided to realign ourselves in the conflict. Alterac is no longer a part of the Alliance, effective immediately." He took a deep breath. "Believe me, we are far better off this way."
The officers all looked surprised. "How do you mean, your Majesty?" Kavdan asked.
"I have formed a nonaggression treaty with the Horde," Perenolde replied. "We will not hinder their progress through the mountains, and in return they will leave Alterac unharmed and untouched."
His officers looked troubled, a few of them even angry or ill. "You would have us conspire with the orcs, your Majesty?" Hath asked softly, disgust evident in his tone.
"Yes, I would have us conspire with them!" Perenolde snapped, losing his composure. "Because I would have us survive!" He let his anger, and his terror, boil over into his words. "Do you have any idea what we are facing? The Horde, the entire Horde, is planning to sweep through these mountains! Through our home! Do you have any idea how many of them there are? Thousands! Tens of thousands!" Hath nodded grudgingly, as did a few of the others—they had seen the same reports he had. "And do you have any idea what these orcs are like? I have seen one of them, no farther away from me than you are now. They are enormous! Nearly as tall as trolls, and twice as wide! Massively muscled, with tusks and fangs—this one carried a hammer it would take three men to lift, and he waved it about as if it were a child's toy! No man could stand against that! They'll kill us all, don't you understand? They've already destroyed Stormwind, and Alterac will be next!"
"But the Alliance — " Hath began. Perenolde laughed bitterly.
"The Alliance what?" he demanded. "Where are they now? Not here, I'll tell you that! We formed the Alliance to protect our kingdoms against exactly this sort of attack, but here we are with the Horde breathing down our necks and the precious Alliance is nowhere in sight. They've abandoned us, don't you see?" He could hear his voice rising to near—hysteria, and sought to rein it back in. "It is every kingdom for itself now," he told them as calmly as he could manage. "I have to think about Alterac first. The other kings would do the same."
"Yes, but these brutes—" another officer, Trand, started.
"— are monstrous and deadly, yes," Perenolde cut him off. "But they are not incapable of reason. I met with their leader. He spoke Common! He listened, and he agreed to leave us in peace if we do not hinder their passage."
"Can we—can we trust them?" A junior officer named Verand asked, and Perenolde let out a small sigh as he saw a few others nod. If they were asking that, they had already accepted that such a treaty might be necessary—now they were only worried about whether it would be upheld.
"We have no choice," he replied slowly. "They can crush us with barely a thought. If they betray us, we are finished. But if they hold to their word—and I think they will—Alterac will survive. No matter the cost."
"I still do not like this," Hath said stubbornly. "We gave our word to the other nations." He looked uncertain, however, and Perenolde knew the general was considering the situation and realizing that this might in fact be their only hope for survival.
"You do not have to like it," Perenolde replied sharply. "You only have to obey. I am king here, and I have made my decision. You have sworn oaths to me, and you will abide by them." He knew that would not stop them if they disagreed, but he hoped he had managed to convince them, at least enough to let their fealty sway them the rest of the way.