Hath glanced up and frowned when he spotted Trollbane. "Thank you, sergeant," he said, moving to join them and returning the veteran's parting salute. "Your Majesty," he said gravely, nodding to Trollbane.
"General." Trollbane had always liked Hath. The man was a solid soldier and a good tactician, and a decent fellow. He had always disliked fighting him and hoped that wouldn't be necessary this time. "The orcs are pouring through your southern passes," he said bluntly. "We blocked them for you."
Hath paled. "Our southern passes? You're sure?" He waved away Trollbane's nod. "Of course you are. But why? The king told me personally they would passing to the north, not the south. That's why he set us to guard these passes instead."
Trollbane glanced around them. None of the Alterac soldiers were close enough to hear him as he lowered his voice. "You're a fine soldier and a good commander, Hath," he said softly, "but you've always been a terrible liar. You knew they were heading south, didn't you?"
The Alterac general sighed and nodded. "Perenolde made arrangements with the Horde somehow," he admitted. "Free passage in exchange for protection."
Trollbane nodded. That was what he had suspected. "And you went along with this?" he demanded.
Hath stiffened. "We were faced with annihilation!" he replied sharply. "They would have crushed us all, and slaughtered our people! And there was no one to aid us!" He shook his head. "Perenolde made the choice to protect Alterac first and foremost. What he did may not be decent, but it saved lives!"
"And what of the lives in Lordaeron?" Trollbane asked softly. "They will die because you allowed the Horde to pass unhindered."
Hath glared at him. "They are soldiers! They know the risk! The Horde would have killed our families, our children! It is not the same!"
Trollbane nodded, feeling some sympathy toward the older man. "No, it is not," he agreed. "And your loyalty to your people is commendable. But if the Horde conquers Lordaeron they will control the entire continent. What makes you think you will be safe?"
Hath sighed. "I do not know," he admitted. "Their leader gave Perenolde his word, but I do not know how far such a creature may be trusted." He shook his head. "I told Perenolde we should abide by our oaths to the other nations, but he countermanded that. I have sworn fealty to him, and I must obey. Plus I thought he might be right, that this might be our only chance for survival." He frowned. "But survival of the race is more important than that of any one kingdom. And if we do not have our honor, we have nothing at all." He raised his chin, a stern expression settling over his features. "Well, I will reclaim our honor," he declared. Then he turned and shouted at his men. "Corporal! Gather the men! March everyone to the southern passes at top speed! We are going to assist our Stromgarde friends in defending those passes and pushing back the orc Horde!"
"But sir—" the officer started to object, but Hath shouted him down.
"Now, soldier!" he bellowed, and the officer saluted quickly and leaped to obey. Then Hath turned back to Trollbane. "He is in the castle," the general said shortly. He did not have to explain whom he meant. "His personal guard will still be there, but there are only twenty of them. I can draw him out."
But Trollbane shook his head. "We do not have time to worry about him now. Besides," he pointed out, "if I go there, it is an invasion. And if you go, it is treason." He frowned. "We will let the Alliance settle matters with Perenolde later. For now all that matters is blocking the Horde."
The general nodded. "Thank you." Then he turned and joined his officers in rallying the men.
"Damn it, we're too late!" Turalyon reined in and stared out over the valley below.
They had ridden hard, he and Khadgar and the other cavalry members, with the troops marching along behind them. It had seemed best to pass west through the foothills of Hearthglen and then emerge north of Capital City so they could swing back down and come at the city from the wide plain behind it, where its main gates lay. Now he wasn't sure the better positioning had been worth the added travel time.
Turalyon had also hoped to gather additional troops from Thoras Trollbane, but Stromgarde was simply too far out of the way. Turalyon had considered detouring, but the news that the Horde had also cut through the mountains and had done so before them spurred him to keep moving instead. They had to reach Capital City in time!
But now he looked down from the trailing edge of the mountain range, across the valley that fed into Lordaeron and the lake below it, and saw that he had failed. The Horde was already there, spreading across the valley and around the proud city like a spray of leaves about an autumn tree.
"They haven't breached the walls," Alleria pointed out, standing beside him. She and the other elves, both warriors and rangers, had kept up with the horses easily, and both she and Lor'themar Theron had come forward with him to see what lay before them. "It is not too late to aid them."
"No, you're right," Turalyon admitted, shoving his disappointment aside and studying the situation more dispassionately. "This battle is not yet lost, and with our aid Capital City will not fall." He rubbed at his chin. "This may even work out to our advantage," he said softly, considering the matter more fully. "The Horde does not know we are here yet, and we can trap them between us." He frowned. "We should let Terenas know we're here, though, so we can coordinate our attacks and so he does not feel he has been abandoned."
Theron nodded, eyeing the mass of orcs teeming below and beyond them. "A good plan," he agreed. "But how would you suggest we reach the city? No one could get past those warriors unharmed, not even an elf."
Alleria nodded. "If this were a forest I might," she admitted, "but here on an open plain there is no chance for cover. It would be suicide to attempt it."
Khadgar, sitting his horse on Turalyon's other side, grinned at the three of them. "I can get across," he assured them, laughing at their expressions. "With a little help," he added, glancing at a short, tattooed figure who had alighted on the rocks beside them.
"Sire!"
Terenas glanced up and saw a soldier shouting and pointing beyond the walls. Thinking the orcs had massed for another attack, he glanced out, following the man's gesture, but the soldier was pointing up rather than down. Terenas looked, and almost gasped as he saw a dark figure soaring toward them.
"Ready archers," he called, staring at the shape, "but hold fire until my command." Something seemed strange about it. Why send a single flier of any sort, when there were thousands upon thousands of orcs smashing against the walls below? Was it a scout? A spy? Or something else?
The archers positioned themselves, longbows drawn and arrows nocked, and waiting patiently. The shape grew closer. Now Terenas could see that it was a gryphon, though far wilder and more beautiful than the heraldric symbols would have led him to believe. Its feathers glowed gold and violet and red in the sunlight, and its fierce head turned, birdlike, to glance around with wide golden eyes as it approached.
And a figure sat upon its back, holding reins and riding a saddle as if upon a horse.
The rider was big, but did not seem large enough to be an orc. And it was wearing clothing, far more than the green—skinned warriors below. Terenas stared, and then let out a breath of relief as he caught a glimpse of violet. That wasn't armor, it was robes, and that could only mean one thing.
"Lower your weapons!" he called to his archers. "It is a wizard of Dalaran!"