Keith DeCandido: Cycle of Hatred

As for Arthas, he had become one of the greatest evils in the world. Now Jaina found herself in a place where she trusted the leader of the orc clans more than the man she once loved or her father.

When her father had attacked, Thrall—who had seen the pain in Jaina's eyes when she told him how to defeat the admiral—had kept his word. And he had never been one to accept that the world was the way it was. He had been captured as an infant and raised by a human named Aedelas Blackmoore to be the perfect slave, even given a name representing that. But Thrall threw off his chains and rallied the orcs first to freedom, then to the ways of his people that had been lost to the demonic hordes that had brought them to this world.

Now, Jaina saw a different look in Thrall's unusual blue eyes. Her dear friend was furious.

"We signed no treaty, you and I." Thrall started in immediately, not even returning Jaina's greeting. "We made no provisions for our alliance. We trusted that our bond had been forged in blood, and we would never betray each other."

"I have not betrayed you, Thrall." Jaina tensed briefly, but with the ease of long practice, kept her emotions in check. She didn't appreciate the blanket accusation of betrayal without even the conversational niceties—or even an acknowledgment of their bond beyond his out—of—nowhere belief that she'd broken it—but the first thing she had been taught as an apprentice mage was that strong emotions and wizardry didn't always mix well. She increased her grip on the ornate wooden staff she carried, a legacy from her mentor, Archmage Antonidas.

"I do not believe you have." Thrall's tone was still belligerent. Unlike his fellow orcs, gruffness was not Thrall's default manner, no doubt due to his human upbringing. "However, it seems your people may not hold to our bond as strongly as you."

Her voice tight, Jaina asked, "Thrall, what are you talking about?"

"One of our merchant vessels, the Orgath'ar, was harassed by pirates."

Jaina frowned. As much as they tried to prevent it, privateering remained a problem on the seas. "We've increased the patrols as much as possible, but—"

"Patrols are useless if they are just going to sit and watch! The Orgath'ar saw one of your patrols nearby! It was close enough to be seen in dense fog, yet they did nothing to aid Captain Bolik and his crew! Bolik even sounded the foghorn, and your people just sat."

Her calm in inverse proportion to Thrall's anger, Jaina asked, "You say your lookout could see them. That doesn't necessarily mean that they could see Orgath'ar."

That brought Thrall up short.

Jaina continued. "Your people have better vision than we do. And when they heard the foghorn, they probably took it as a sign to get out of the way."

"If they were close enough for my people to see, they were close enough to hear a boarding party! My people have better vision, it's true, but we also do not do battle in stealth. I do not believe that your patrol did not hear what happened."

"Thrall—"

The orc turned around, throwing his hands into the air. "I had thought that things would be different here! I had thought that your people had finally come to accept mine as equals. I should have realized that when it came to taking up arms against their own to aid an orc, humans would abandon us."

Now Jaina was having a harder time reining in her temper. "How dare you? I had thought that, after all we'd been through, you'd at least give my people the benefit of the doubt."

"The evidence—"

"What evidence? To whom have you spoken besides this Captain Bolik and his crew?"

Thrall's silence answered Jaina's question.

"I will find out which patrol ship it was. Where was Orgath'ar attacked?"

"Half a league off the coast near Ratchet, an hour from port."

Jaina nodded. "I'll have one of my soldiers investigate. Those patrols are coordinated by Northwatch."

Thrall tensed.

"What is it?"

The orc turned back around to face her. "There is considerable pressure on me to take Northwatch Keep back by force."

"And there is considerable pressure on me to keep it."

Thrall and Jaina stared at each other. Now that he faced her again, Jaina saw something different in the orc's blue eyes: not anger, but confusion.

"How did this happen?" Thrall asked the question in a quieter voice, all belligerence now seemingly burned out of him. "How did it come to where we bicker over such idiocy?"

Jaina couldn't help but laugh. "We are leaders, Thrall."

"Leaders take their warriors into battle."

"In times of war, yes," Jaina said. "In times of peace, they lead them differently. War is a grand endeavor that subsumes daily existence, but when it ends, there is still daily existence." She walked over to her old comrade and put her small hand on his massive arm. "I will investigate this, Thrall, and learn the truth. And if my soldiers did not do their duty by our alliance, then I swear to you they will be punished."

Thrall nodded. "Thank you, Jaina. And I apologize for my accusations. But my people have endured so much. I have endured so much, and I will not see our people mistreated again."

"Nor will I," Jaina said quietly. "And perhaps—" She hesitated.

"What?"

"Perhaps we should draft a formal treaty. Because you were right before—you and I may trust each other, but not all humans and orcs will do likewise. And much as we may wish it otherwise, we will not live forever."

Thrall nodded. "It is often…difficult to remind my people that you are no longer our slavemasters. In many ways, they wish to continue the rebellion even though the time of orc enslavement is long past. Sometimes I get caught up in their fervor, especially since I was raised in bondage by a creature as foul as any member of the Burning Legion. Sometimes I believe the worst, and so will my people when I am gone and can no longer remind them. So perhaps you are correct."

"Let us solve this crisis first," Jaina said, giving Thrall a smile. "Then we will speak of treaties."

"Thank you." Then Thrall shook his head and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"You are nothing like her in any way, but—when you smiled, just for an instant, you reminded me of Tari."

Jaina remembered that Taretha Foxton, whom most called Tari, was the daughter of a member of Aedelas Blackmoore's household, and had been instrumental in Thrall's escape from Blackmoore's clutches at the cost of her own life.

Orcs immortalized their history in song form: a lok'amon chronicled the starting of a family, a lok'tra a battle, a lok'vadnod the life of a hero. To the best of anyone's knowledge, the only human ever to have a lok'vadnod sung of her life was named Tari.

And so Jaina bowed her head and said, "I am honored to be so associated. I will send Colonel Lorena to Northwatch, and as soon as she reports, I will inform you."

Thrall shook his head. "Another woman in your military. Humans astound me sometimes."

Jaina's tone grew frosty; again, she tightly gripped the staff. "What do you mean? Can men and women not be equals in your world?"

"Of course not. Nor would I say," he added quickly before Jaina could interrupt, "that they are unequal—any more than I would say that an insect and a flower could be equals. They serve completely different purposes."

Grateful for the opening, Jaina said the same thing to Thrall that she had said to Antonidas when as a brash young woman she had insisted on becoming his apprentice. Back then, the archmage had said to her, "It is no more women's nature to become wizards than it is a dog's nature to compose an aria."

As then, she now said to Thrall: "Is not what separates us from animals that we can change our nature? After all, there are those who would argue that an orc's nature was to be a slave." Then Jaina shook her head. "However, there are many who think as you do. It is why women have to work twice as hard to achieve the same position as a man—which is why I trust Lorena more than any of my other colonels. She will learn the truth."