War Crimes

25

The tauren Longwalker Perith Stormhoof approached the chair slowly, with the air of one going to an execution. He sat down with dignity and waited.

“Please tell the court your name,” Tyrande said.

“I will not testify,” said Perith. His voice was deep, almost emotionless, but Baine knew better.

“Perith Stormhoof,” said Taran Zhu, “you are compelled to give testimony if you are so called.”

“I have sworn an oath, to Cairne Bloodhoof and to Baine Bloodhoof after him, to never say or do anything that would harm him. I am the trusted keeper of their secrets. You cannot force me to speak.”

“Under Pandaren law, I can hold you indefinitely until you do choose to testify,” Taran Zhu stated.

“I will stay in prison and keep my honor to the end of my days rather than betray my high chieftain.”

Baine had had enough. He rose. “Perith Stormhoof, I order you to speak. You have more than proved your loyalty, both to me and to my father, and it is for both of us that I tell you I will hold nothing you say against you. This is a place for truth, which Cairne and I ever valued, so speak yours, as Pandaren law requires.”

The mask vanished and Perith looked at him, anguished. Clearly, he didn’t think Baine fully appreciated the impact of what he might be asked to reveal. But Baine did, and was almost relieved. He nodded. Go ahead.

“I will speak, only because my high chieftain has told me I must,” Perith said, and his grief was almost palpable.

“May the jury take note—this is a hostile witness,” said Tyrande. She expressed no joy in Perith’s capitulation, but neither did she show regret. “Please state your name and position.”

“I am Perith Stormhoof. I am a Longwalker in the service of Baine Bloodhoof and his father, Cairne, before him.”

“Tell us what a Longwalker does.”

“We are couriers first and foremost, but more than that. We know the content of the missives we carry. We know the secrets of the high chieftain.” His voice was flat, defeated. “We know how to travel safely, in all respects, so that we and our vital missions are not hindered.”

“When you are not delivering messages for High Chieftain Bloodhoof, where are you, usually?”

“In his presence.”

“As a counselor, an advisor?”

Perith shook his gray head. “No. As a shadow, save when he needs me.”

Garrosh leaned in toward Baine and said, conversationally, “She will destroy you, tauren.”

“I am rather certain she will,” Baine replied.

“Then why—”

“Peace,” Baine rumbled, his voice dangerously soft.

“So you are privy to many secrets,” Tyrande continued. “The Accuser wishes to state for the record, this testimony is being sought only for the purposes of the trial. I have no desire to pry secrets of the Horde to aid the Alliance.”

“If I thought you might do so, Chu’shao, I would be seeking to remove you from the trial,” Taran Zhu said, almost cheerfully.

Baine did not look up into the stands to see the reaction from any Alliance members. He would let this play out. Please, Earth Mother, let this be the best decision for us all . . . We are so weary of war.

Tyrande frowned slightly, but nonetheless inclined her head. She returned her attention to Perith. “When did you first enter Baine Bloodhoof’s service?”

“The night of his father’s murder,” answered the Longwalker. “The Grimtotem had taken Thunder Bluff and attacked Bloodhoof Village. Baine received a warning in time and was able to escape, thanks be to the Earth Mother.”

“And you were the one who warned him?”

“No. I had accompanied Cairne to Orgrimmar. I was . . . delayed in my return after the mak’gora. The Grimtotem were watching. I caught up with Baine afterward in Camp Taurajo.”

“Who did warn him, then?”

“A Grimtotem shaman named Stormsong, who had more honor than Magatha.”

“Baine was fortunate. May it please the court, I would like to present a Vision from that terrible night.”

Baine closed his eyes for a moment, praying for calmness, as the scene manifested. It was he, Jorn Skyseer, Hamuul Runetotem, and Perith, sitting in the background as he usually did. Perith was deeply respected by Baine, but he preferred to keep to the outskirts of all activity. It was part of his training as a Longwalker.

“Magatha has what she wanted,” said the image of Hamuul as food was placed before them. “Control of Thunder Bluff, Bloodhoof Village, probably Camp Mojache, and unless we stop her soon, all the tauren.”

“But not Sun Rock,” Jorn put in quietly. “They have sent a runner. They were able to repel the attack.”

Baine watched himself nod, growl softly, and take a bite out of necessity rather than appetite. “Archdruid,” the image of Baine said after a moment, “my father ever trusted your advice. I have never been in more need of it than now. What do we do now? How do we fight her?”

Hamuul didn’t answer at once. Finally he said, “From what we can learn, most of the tauren are now controlled by Magatha—willingly or not. Garrosh might be innocent of treachery, but he is most certainly a hothead, and one way or another he wished your father dead. The Undercity is not safe for you, not patrolled as it is by orcs likely loyal to Garrosh. The Darkspear trolls are likely trustworthy, but they are not many. And as for the blood elves, they are much too far away to offer any aid. Garrosh will likely reach them before we could.”

Baine’s laughter rumbled, though it was bitter. “So it seems that our enemies are more trustworthy than our friends.”

“Or at least more accessible,” Hamuul replied.

The image of Baine fell silent, lost in thought. At length, he shook his head, ears flapping, having reached a decision.

“I will take an honorable enemy over a dishonorable friend every time. So let us go to an honorable enemy. We will seek out the woman Thrall trusted. We will go to Lady Jaina Proudmoore.”

The courtroom exploded.

Jaina stared at Tyrande, the voices all around her as muffled and nonsensical as if she were underwater. She couldn’t feel the hand grasping hers, or the one shaking her shoulders. She could only stare at Tyrande, with a terrible, unshakable sense of betrayal. The night elf looked back at her with a combination of implacable determination and deep compassion.

“How could she do this?” murmured Jaina. She had half expected this sort of thing from Baine, but from Tyrande—

“Jaina!” Kalec’s voice was stronger and fuller than she had ever heard it before. He shook her shoulder. The movement snapped her spell, and suddenly everything sped up and grew so loud; everyone was shouting, and Taran Zhu was banging the gong. Jaina dragged her eyes away from Tyrande to regard Varian. He too was shouting.

“Jaina, why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Anduin’s eyes were as big as gold coins. He too had apparently decided that silence was the best option when it came to helping the deposed tauren high chieftain.

Light help her and Anduin now. “It’s all falling apart,” she murmured. “Everything. It’s all just falling apart.”

“Jaina,” said Kalec. “Taran Zhu has just called for a ten-minute respite. We can leave if you wish. You do not have to be here for this.”

“What is it that she doesn’t have to be here for?” demanded Varian. He visibly struggled to calm himself and was only partly succeeding. “This is just like what happened with the Sunreavers. Jaina, you should have told me. Tell me what I have to prepare for next.”

Jaina shook her head and squared her shoulders. “I have no doubt but that you’ll see it,” she said. “I can’t tell you everything in ten minutes.”

“Then tell me what you can! Light blind me, Jaina, I just found out someone I regarded as one of my best friends had secret meetings with Baine Bloodhoof!” he snapped, folding his arms across his broad chest—perhaps in an effort to keep from attacking her. “Your constant sneaking off to meet Thrall was bad enough, but . . .”

“Father,” said Anduin quietly. “I have something to tell you too.”

Baine sat quietly, feeling oddly at peace while the world went mad around him.

Taran Zhu had called for a ten-minute respite, but it took at least twice that long to stop the fighting and remove the combatants to their new “quarters.” Tyrande could not know that he had not attempted to hide his initial contact with Jaina Proudmoore. Baine had been so angry at Garrosh’s decision to wait and see who won the conflict between Grimtotem and Bloodhoof that he made it common knowledge that an Alliance leader had been more supportive than his own warchief. He had gone so far as to use Jaina’s support of him as a reason to not attack Theramore during a large assembly of Horde leadership and their people. No one had thought him a traitor. Jaina had some who respected her among the Horde, and she was not nearly as despised as Varian or Tyrande.

At least, not then.

Garrosh gazed at him with a bemused expression. “So, it appears you might be joining me in prison, Bloodhoof,” the orc said.

“Possibly,” said Baine. “But I would request a different cellmate.”

“Perhaps Jaina?”

“No. But perhaps Anduin.”

Taran Zhu struck the gong again, and this time people seemed to be ready to resume their seats.

“I debated ending the trial for the day,” Taran Zhu said, his voice harder than normal and his eyes bright with a rare display of outrage. “But it is my hope that by the end of this witness’s testimony, we will all be in a more civilized place. If not, know that I will immediately put any witnesses or persons named in this court under Shado-pan protection if I feel they are in any danger. This is not the Darkmoon Faire, nor is it a gladiator ring. It is a courtroom. It is a place for justice, and for truth. And I will have it so.”

No one spoke. He took a moment to glance around the seats; then his gaze traveled back down to Tyrande. “Chu’shao, you may resume your questioning.”

“Thank you, Fa’shua.” Taking her time, she rose, smoothed her gown, and walked over to Perith. “I believe where we left off,” she said, as if they had merely paused for an ordinary respite, “we saw that Baine Bloodhoof was planning to meet with Lady Jaina Proudmoore.”

All eyes went to Jaina. She sat straight and calm, her hands folded in her lap, but her flushed face and quickened breathing belied her cool exterior. Beside her, Kalec looked ready to spring into action if he felt the need to, and Varian’s face was thunderous. His gaze darted from Perith to Tyrande, and Baine couldn’t tell which one the human king was angriest with.

“That is correct.”

“Were you present at that meeting?”

“No, I was not.”

“But you know what happened?”

“I know what my high chieftain told me.”

“And that was?”

Perith glanced at Baine, deep sorrow in his eyes. “Lady Jaina would not bring the Alliance into war with the Horde, but she did agree to personally offer aid.”

“And what form did that aid take?”

“She gave him gold.”

Disapproval rippled through the audience. “How much gold?” inquired Tyrande.

“I was not privy to those details.”

“Was this the only time your high chieftain had dealings with the lady Jaina?”

Baine tensed. This second visit was not common knowledge. Perith’s voice was ragged as he answered.

“No, it was not.”

Tyrande nodded to Chromie. “May it please the court, I have a second Vision to present.”