Read Online The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm by Christie Golden - Free Book Online Page B

great kodos.
    Tears stung the old bull’s eyes for a moment. This was how one should be welcomed home. With the happy cries of children and family, with the blessings of the natural world. Simpler, better … more tauren.
    “Well done, my son,” Cairne said, keeping the emotion out of his voice with an effort. “Well done.”
    Baine, calm and steady as his father, nonetheless radiated joy at Cairne’s arrival. He dropped easily to the ground and approached his father. They clasped arms warmly, then fell into step, separating out a bit from the cluster of others joyfully welcoming family.
    “There are more,” Baine said, watching with a smile as several of the warriors took the road to the southwest. These lucky few had already reached their home. “The road home will be lined with those ready to welcome you.”
    “A sight for sore eyes,” Cairne said. “Is all well with them?”
    “It will be better once the veterans of the war are home,” Baine said. “How was the celebration in Orgrimmar?”
    “It did what it was supposed to,” Cairne said. “It was very orcish. Much weaponry and feasting and shouting. Our people were not overlooked, though.”
    Baine nodded. “Thrall would never do so.”
    Cairne craned his neck over his shoulder, looking about for a moment, then continued in a lower voice. “He would not. He is too wise and too greathearted. I return home with a task that only we can perform to aid the Horde.”
    He spoke quietly to Baine of Hamuul’s suggestion. Baine listened attentively, nodding at times, his ears twitching as he listened.“This is well,” he said. “I am a warrior myself, but I tell you, our people have had enough of it. If Hamuul thinks these talks can help, then I am with you, Father. I fully support it.”
    Not for the first time, Cairne counted his blessings that the Earth Mother and his lifemate, Tamaala, had given him such a gift in his son. Although Tamaala had left to walk with the spirits many years ago, she lived on in their son. Baine was such a comfort to his father. He had his mother’s spirituality, perception, and great heart, and his father’s calmness and—Cairne was forced to admit—stubbornness. Cairne had not had to think twice about leaving Mulgore in his son’s capable hands. He wondered how Thrall bore it, with no mate and no progeny. Even Grom had had a son, for the Earth Mother’s sake. Perhaps now that the war had ended, Thrall might turn his thoughts to such things as a mate and an heir.
    “How did our favorite shaman conduct herself in my absence?”
    “Well enough,” Baine replied. They were speaking of Magatha. “I watched her closely. It would have been an opportune time to stir up trouble, but there was none.”
    Cairne grunted. “There may be. Young Garrosh Hellscream is a hothead, and I saw her slip out to speak with him.”
    “I have heard he is a magnificent warrior,” Baine said slowly, “but …” and here he grinned, “
also
a hothead.”
    The two Bloodhoof grinned at each other. Cairne clapped his hand on Baine’s shoulder and squeezed hard. Baine swiftly covered his father’s hand with his own.
    Just ahead, Thunder Bluff rose majestically into the late afternoon sky.
    “Welcome home, Father. Welcome home.”

S IX

    The day was cool and slightly overcast, and as Jaina Proudmoore walked up the blue and gold carpeted steps of Stormwind’s magnificent cathedral, it began to rain. Part of the steps was blocked off, in need of repair after the War Against the Nightmare, and the rain made them slick. She did not bother to put up her hood to cover her bright golden hair, letting the droplets fall gently on her head and face. It was as if the sky itself was weeping at the thought of the ceremony about to be enacted within.
    Two young priestesses flanking the door smiled and dropped curtseys. “Lady Jaina,” the human girl on the right said, stammering a little, a blush visible even on her dark skin. “We were not told to