Free Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War by Christie Golden Page B

compassion and love.”
    Jaina didn’t look at him. She knew of whom he spoke—Anveena, who had been the Sunwell incarnate. Jaina was familiar with what had happened to Anveena. The girl who was not a girl had sacrificed one form for her true one, and in doing so, sacrificed her life.
    “Another is a dragon, lovely as ice and sunlight, who was intended to be my mate.” He seemed to recall Jaina’s presence and gave her a quick smile. “I don’t think you’d get along with her particularly well. She never understood my interest in the, ah…”
    “Lesser races?”
    “I’ve never called you that,” Kalec said, and for the first time, Jainasaw a spark of anger in the blue dragon. “Those who are not dragons are not lesser. It took Tyrygosa a while to see that. You are simply… different from us. And maybe in some ways better than us.”
    Jaina raised her golden brows. “How in the world can you possibly say that?”
    He smiled. “Cheese and apples and scrolls,” he said. “And thus, you knew true, simple joy when you hadn’t even entered your second decade. That to me makes you… astonishing.”

6

    I t was not long before the explicit directives came. Baine hated what he was about to do, but if he refused, Garrosh would turn on him—and the tauren—with the full force of the rest of the Horde behind him. Baine harbored no illusions of the idealism of the Forsaken, the blood elves, or the goblins; they had their own agendas. The orcs were traditional friends to the tauren, but there were few malcontents. And the trolls simply couldn’t risk it. If the tauren defied Garrosh so blatantly as to refuse this order, they would stand alone.
    Baine crushed the missive in his hand and turned a bleak expression to Hamuul Runetotem. “Let us prepare,” the high chieftain said. “At the very least, this part of the war Garrosh is getting us into has some scent of justice behind it.”
    The orders had been clear. Baine was to bring “at least two dozen braves,” kodos, and weapons of war and approach Northwatch Hold from the west. The trolls would join them, though the trek from the Echo Isles to Mulgore was a long one. The orcs would be marching from Orgrimmar, and the Forsaken, the goblins, and the blood elves would take ships to meet them in the port town of Ratchet, and then they would all move swiftly to rendezvous with the tauren at Northwatch Hold.
    Once, there had been only the dry land of the Barrens between Mulgore and Northwatch, and a little town called Camp Taurajo. Back then, the greatest problem had been fighting the quilboar. NowBaine would need to march his people past the ruins of Taurajo and through what had become known as the Fields of Blood.
    Following the orders he so disliked, Baine amassed his people on their side of the Great Gate as quietly as possible. They stood silently as instructed, the only sound the slight creaking of armor and the occasional stamp of a kodo. Baine could feel the tension; he marveled that the Alliance on the other side could not sense it as well. He had sent several scouts ahead, to make sure that the Alliance recon would be taken unawares, and they had all reported back that only a few kept watch at this hour. Two tauren, taking care not to be seen, ascended the viewing platforms and made their own longer-distance reconnaissance. They could see better than humans in the dark, and besides, the Alliance soldiers were often foolish enough to keep campfires burning.
    “High Chieftain,” said one of the scouts, forcing his voice to be soft, “the trolls—the hills are thick with them. They only await your order.”
    “The number of soldiers is no greater than usual, judging by the fires,” said another. “They are not expecting an attack.”
    Baine’s heart ached at what he was about to do. “Report back to Vol’jin. Tell him his people may attack at will. Once they have engaged the Alliance, we will open the Great Gate and follow up with our own