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

you have served with your blood and sweat and spirit.”
    Garrosh took the weapon and hefted it experimentally. He swung the blade as if he had been born to do so—and, mused Cairne, perhaps he had. It shrieked and howled, cutting the air as it had once and would again cut down the enemies of the Horde. He lifted the axe high above his head, and again cheers swept through the Valley of Wisdom. Garrosh closed his eyes for a moment, as if literally basking in the adoration. Cairne did not think for a moment that it was undeserved, but thought a bit of grateful humility for both the weapon and the accolades might have served Garrosh well.
    “Veterans, the taverns are open to you this night. Eat and drink and sing of your glorious deeds, but be mindful that the citizens of Orgrimmar are those whom you have served and not your foes.” Thrall allowed himself a smile. “The haze of alcohol can sometimes blur such lines.”
    Good-natured laughter rippled through the crowd. Cairne had known to expect this. Thrall had agreed to reimburse every inn and tavern for food, drink, and lodging the entire day. However, it was up to the tavern and innkeepers to police their customers—the Horde would not pay for damaged chairs or tables, and there were
always
damaged tables and chairs. Not to mention a few broken noses, but such were borne as a necessary part of the celebrating. Cairne, who did not indulge in such wild behavior—had not even done so as a younger tauren—did not approve, but he had not protested when Thrall had suggested it.
    Thrall waved, and several carts pulled by kodos and raptors were brought forth, covered by heavy blankets. At Thrall’s nod, several orcs stepped forward and, on the count of three, pulled off the blankets to reveal dozens of kegs of strong beer.
    “Let the revelry begin!” shouted Thrall, and wild cheering and applause filled the air.
    The parade now officially over, the veterans moved eagerly to the kegs, beginning what was certain to be a long night and likely a hangover-heavy morning. Cairne strode toward the entrance of Grommash Hold, pausing for a moment to eye the skull and armor of which Thrall had spoken.
    The armor had been securely chained to an enormous dead tree for all to see. The skull of the great demon lord, which was set atop the tree, had been bleached white by the sun. Long tusks curved out from the pale bone, and the plate armor was gargantuan, unwearable by even the most powerful orc, troll, or tauren. Cairne regarded it for a long moment, thinking about Grom, thanking his spirit for the sacrifice that had set the orcs free.
    With a long sigh, he turned and trundled inside. He had, as was his right, brought a retinue with him. He had selected who among his people would have the honor of attending the feast tonight. Ordinarily his son Baine would be among them, but Baine had opted to remain behind in Mulgore.
    It is a high honor that you ask me to attend such a ceremony,
Baine had written,
but the higher honor is making sure our people are safe until you, their leader, have returned home for good.
    The response pleased but did not surprise Cairne. Baine did exactly as his father would have done in the same situation. While it would have made him happy to have his son by his side, Cairne felt better knowing that the tauren people were watched over and cared for in his absence.
    In Baine’s stead was the venerable archdruid Hamuul Runetotem, who was a good friend and trusted advisor. Also present were members of several of the individual tauren tribes such as the Dawnstrider, Ragetotem—a tribe with a warrior focus who had sent several of its sons and daughters to fight proudly in Northrend alongside Garrosh—Skychaser, Winterhoof, and Thunderhorn, among others. Included for politics’ sake rather than personal preference was the matriarch of the Grimtotem, Magatha.
    Alone among the tauren tribes, the Grimtotem had never formally joined the Horde, though Magatha lived on