Keith DeCandido - Cycle of Hatred

"Kodo?" Lorena asked with a frown.

Aegwynn shrugged. "It's what we called them then. In any event, I've always had a fondness for those beasts, and I'm more than happy to share my home with them."

"Thank you, Magna." Lady Proudmoore then turned to Lorena. "Give me a few minutes to complete the task that took me to Durotar in the first place, and then we will return to Theramore—I'll teleport the three of us. Instruct your soldiers to return to Theramore immediately via the airship." She smiled wryly. "I'm afraid teleporting the entirety of the airship after bringing the thunder lizards here will tax me beyond my capacity to be useful."

"Very good, milady," Lorena said with a nod.

"Thank you, Colonel." The lady said the words with a heartfelt smile, and Lorena felt a rush of pride. The colonel had taken a huge risk coming here, trusting Booraven's abilities to find Lady Proudmoore in orc country, and hoping that the lady would not be angered at her presumptuousness. But it seemed she had been right to trust her instincts—and on top of that, she had been instrumental in freeing the lady and her friend from their prison.

While Lady Proudmoore closed her eyes and concentrated on her spellcasting, Lorena looked at the old woman. "You're really four hundred years old?"

"Over eight hundred."

Lorena nodded. "Ah." She blinked twice. "You've aged rather well."

Aegwynn smirked. "You should've seen me thirty years ago."

Deciding that this conversation was getting far too bizarre to suit her, Lorena instead went to the rope ladder to give Major Bek and the others their new instructions. Bek acknowledged the order, wished her the best of luck, and prepared the dirigible for its return trip.

When she came back down the ladder, Lady Proudmoore had finished. As soon as Lorena had stepped off the bottom rung, Bek ordered the ladder pulled back up, and the airship began its journey back southward.

"The chamberlain's been spending most of his time in the throne room." Lorena found herself unable to keep the disdain out of her voice, then wondered why she even tried. "And most of that's been on your throne."

Lady Proudmoore nodded. "Kristoff always emphasized the importance of sitting on the throne."

"A little too much, if you ask me," Lorena nodded.

"In any event, I am ready."

Lorena braced herself. She'd been teleported only once, back during the war, and it had made her sick to her stromach.

Sure enough, the world turned upside down and inside out, and Lorena felt as if her head had been removed and placed between her knees, while her feet were sticking up out of her neck.

A second later, the world normalized, and Lorena heaved. Dimly, as she bent over on the stone floor, she registered that this was Lady Proudmoore's throne room, and Duree was going to scream at her for retching all over the floor.

"Milady!" That was Kristoff's voice. "You're back—and with Colonel Lorena. We were afraid you'd been taken by the Burning Blade. You'll be happy to know that we've reinforced Northwatch—which is good, as orc and troll troops are headed there by land and by sea. And who is this?"

Lorena heaved once again, her stomach clenching so badly it made being the conduit for the lady's spell seem heavenly by comparison.

"My name is Aegwynn."

"Really?" Kristoff sounded surprised, as if he knew who Aegwynn was. Lorena herself still had no idea, beyond the fact that she was a very old woman.

"Yes. And while I'm no longer truly a Tirisfalen, I still know the stink of demonkind when I smell it, and it's all over you."

Though there was nothing left in her stomach, Lorena heaved again, wondering what a teeris fallen was.

"What are you talking about?" Kristoff asked.

"Please, Kristoff," the lady said, "tell me that Aegwynn is mistaken. Please tell me that you have not consorted with Zmodlor and the Burning Blade."

"Milady, it isn't what you think."

Her stomach having finished torturing her, Lorena was finally able to stand upright. She saw a rather interesting tableau. Kristoff stood in front of the throne, looking frightened. Aegwynn looked mildly peeved, which wasn't qualitatively different from how she'd looked since Lorena met her.

But in Lady Proudmoore, she saw something new: a cold fury. A storm seemed to be gathering behind her eyes, and Lorena found herself very grateful that the lady was on her side.

"Not what I think? What is it, exactly, Kristoff, that I should think?"

"The orcs must be eliminated, milady. Zmodlor has the same goal, and he is a minor demon. I have already put in place the sequence of events that will banish him from the world altogether when we are done."

" ‘Done'? Done with what? Tell me what it is you've set in motion, Kristoff."

"A chain of events that will drive the orcs from this world forever. It is for the best, milady. They do not belong in this world, and—"

"You idiot!"

Kristoff reacted as if he'd been slapped. Lorena was no less surprised than the chamberlain. In all the time she'd served under her, the colonel had never heard Lady Proudmoore speak with such vehement anger.

"Zmodlor is a demon. Do you truly believe that you will be able to stop him?" She pointed at the old woman. "This is Aegwynn, the greatest of the Guardians."

Aegwynn snorted at that, but both the lady and Kristoff ignored her.

"She was unable to completely defeat Zmodlor at the height of her power. What makes you think you'll fare better? And even if you could, no goal is worth risking an alliance with a demon. Their only purpose is to create havoc and desolation. Or was the destruction of Lordaeron not enough for you? Must Kalimdor follow in its wake once this war you seem bent on starting at Northwatch breaks out?"

"Besides," Aegwynn said, "even if you had the means to destroy or banish Zmodlor, you couldn't do it. You're in his thrall."

"That's absurd!" Kristoff sounded even more nervous now. "Ours is simply an alliance of convenience, and once the orcs are gone—"

"The orcs are our allies, Kristoff!" Lightning seemed to crackle around her golden hair, and a small breeze seemed to materialize at her ankles, billowing the lady's white cloak. "That alliance was forged in blood. And the demons are the enemies of everything that lives. How could you betray us—betray me—like that?"

Kristoff was sweating profusely now. "I swear to you, milady, it is not a betrayal. I was simply doing what was best for Theramore! The Burning Blade is simply a cult of warlocks under Zmodlor's direction that are bringing out the natural hostility toward orcs. They're doing nothing but abetting what's already there!"

"What about the orcs who are members?" Lorena asked.

"What?" Kristoff sounded confused.

"The orcs who attacked me and my troops at Northwatch, they were part of the Burning Blade—and they were orcs. How do they fit in?"

"I—" Kristoff seemed to be at a loss.

Lady Proudmoore angrily shook her head. "How many, Kristoff? How many will die to provide your perfect orc—free world?"

Now Kristoff seemed to be on surer ground. "Far fewer than if we wait until Thrall dies and the orcs revert to type. This was the only—"

"Enough!" Now the breeze kicked into high gear, and lightning shot out from the lady's fingertips.

Kristoff screamed a second later, clutching his left shoulder. Smoke started to wisp out from it between his fingers.

Instinctively, Lorena ran to Kristoff and ripped away the cloth of his shirt.

There was a tattoo on his shoulder blade of a sword on fire, identical to the ones Lorena, Strov, Clai, Jalod, and the others saw on the orcs they fought at Northwatch. The tattoo was now burning.

A second later, the tattoo was gone, leaving only charred flesh in its wake. Kristoff collapsed to the floor like a sack of suet, his eyes fluttering.