“Damn him!” Trollbane beat his fist against the arm of his heavy chair as he passed it. “Perenolde should have held them! He should at least have warned us! Even he is not that incompetent!” He paused mid-stride as another thought struck him. Perenolde had never been enthusiastic about the Alliance. He and Graymane had been the only two to resist, Trollbane remembered. He thought back to the meetings in Capital City, with Lothar and Terenas and the others. Yes. Graymane had spurned the idea, but mainly because he boasted that Gilneas could crush anyone foolish enough to invade them. But Perenolde had disliked the idea of combat. Trollbane had always thought his neighbor a coward at heart, and something of a bully—he was perfectly willing to fight when he knew he held the upper hand, but hated to engage in combat if it put him at any risk. And Perenolde had been the one to suggest they try negotiating first. “That fool!Khadgar turned to ask about his comment, but the servant wow gold was already gone from the doorway. With the care of a burglar, Khadgar wow gold picked his way through the debris. It was as if a battle had erupted in the library. Spines were broken, covers were half-torn, pages were folded over upon themselves, signatures had been pulled wow gold from the bindings entirely. And this was for those books that were still mostly whole. More portfolios zxckuaizi had been pulled from their covers, and the dust on the tables covered a layer of papers and wow gold correspondences. Some of these were open, but some were noticeably still unread, their knowledge contained beneath their wax seals. “The Magus does not wow gold need an assistant,” muttered Khadgar, clearing a space at the end of one table and pulling out a chair. “He needs a housekeeper.” He shot a glance wow gold at the doorway to make sure that the castellan was well and truly gone. That traitorous little fool!” Trollbane kicked his chair hard enough to send it skittering across the granite floor. He had done it, hadn’t he? He had negotiated with the Horde! Trollbane knew he was right. Perenolde cared nothing for others, only for his own hide. He would happily make a deal with demons if it kept him and his own lands safe. And that was exactly what he had done. It all made perfect sense now. The reason the Horde had made it through the mountains without anyone raising the alarm, the reason Perenolde had not responded or warned anyone. He had let them pass. Presumably for some promise of leniency or continued autonomy after the war. “Rargh!’ Infuriated beyond words, Trollbane snatched his axe from where it hung on the column beside his chair and hacked at the table in front of him, shattering it with a single blow. “I’ll kill him!” he bellowed. His warriors and nobles shrank back, alarmed, and only their reaction reminded Trollbane that he was not alone. And that personal vengeance would have to wait. The war came first. “Assemble the troops,” he instructed his startled guards. “We are going to Alterac.” “But, sire,” his guard captain replied, “we’ve already sent half our troops out with the main Alliance army!” Trollbane frowned. “Well, there’s nothing for it. Grab everyone you can find.” “Are we lending them aid, sire?” one of the nobles asked.

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