Torgus was still awaiting an order, but both of them turned as another orc came running up. It was Tharbek, Doomhammer's young Blackrock second, and he stopped just beyond the dragon's tail, which was flicking in annoyance.

"Yes?"

"There is a problem," Tharbek informed him bluntly. "The mountains are closed."

"What?" Doomhammer turned and stared out past the dragon, toward the Alterac Mountains. Sure enough, he could see that the steady dark stream of orcs flowing from the southern passes had stopped. "What has happened?"

Tharbek shook his head. "I do not know," he replied. "But we are no longer able to get through the passes. I have sent warriors back to scout the way but they have not returned." His expression made it clear that they should have been back by now.

"Damn it!" Doomhammer ground his teeth together. "That human betrayed us! I knew one who would sell out his own race could not be trusted!" Still, he had thought the cloaked man too frightened to turn against them. Either the Alliance had shown superior strength, or they had threatened him with something more immediate than Horde domination—or they had discovered his treachery and removed him from whatever position he had held that had enabled him to control those passes. Yes, the last was the most likely. The man had seemed too eager to negotiate to back out now, especially since there would still be Horde warriors nearby. He had been caught and removed, and others now controlled that mountain region.

That did not change the results, however. "How many orcs are trapped up there?" he demanded.

Tharbek shrugged. "Impossible to say," he pointed out. "But at least half the clan, if not more." He glanced around. "We still have many warriors here," he said. "And once Gul'dan and the others arrive we will have more."

Doomhammer laughed bitterly, his mind still reeling. "The others! The others are not coming!" Tharbek looked surprised. "Gul'dan has betrayed us," Doomhammer told his second, barely able to force out the words. "He has taken the ships, and the two clans with them, to the Great Sea."

"But why?" Tharbek asked, genuinely bewildered. "If we lose this war we will all be without a home, him included."

Doomhammer shook his head. "The war was never his first priority." His thoughts flickered back to his encounter with the warlock back in Stormwind, and what Gul'dan had said. "He has found something else, something powerful," he remembered dully. "Something that will make him strong enough to not need the Horde for protection."

"What will we do?" Tharbek asked. He looked over at the city beyond them, studying it anew. "We may not have enough warriors to take it now," he pointed out.

Doomhammer refused to look, but knew his second was right. The city had proven sturdier than expected, and its defenders fiercer. The attack from behind by the Alliance forces had also taken them by surprise and had reduced their numbers by a large portion. And now they could no longer expect reinforcements from any direction.

But that was not the only matter weighing on him. Gul'dan's treachery was bad enough, but he had taken other orcs with him. They were setting their own goals above those of the Horde, their own selfish desires above the needs of their people. That was what had driven Doomhammer to kill Blackhand and take control in the first place, and he had vowed to end the corruption and restore his people's honor. This betrayal could not be allowed to stand unanswered. No matter what it cost them. Or him.

"Rend! Maim!" Doomhammer bellowed. The Blackhand brothers heard him and approached quickly, perhaps realizing from his tone that they Warchief would brook no delay.

"Take your Black Tooth Grin south," Doomhammer instructed them, remembering the maps his scouts had drawn with the trolls' help. "March back along the lake and from there through the Hillsbrad to the sea. Gul'dan has fled but he would not have needed all the boats, not with only two clans. The rest of our ships should still be there, waiting." He grimaced, showing his tusks. "Pursue the traitors and destroy them to the last orc, leaving their bodies to sink into the water's depths."

"But—this city!" Rend protested. "The war!"

"Our people's honor is at stake!" Doomhammer bellowed, raising his hammer to attack position and growling at the other chieftain, silently daring him to defy the orders. "We must not allow them to go unpunished!" He glared at the Blackhands. "Consider this a chance to regain your honor." Then he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "I will lead my clan south more slowly, blocking the Alliance from following you and wreaking havoc across the land as we go. We will keep the route open, all the way back to this city. We will return here afterward," he assured them, "and finish what we started." Though even he had his doubts about that. They had caught the city by surprise this time. That would not happen again.

The Blackhands nodded, though they did not look happy. "It shall be as you say," Maim agreed, and he and his brother turned away to give orders to their warriors.

Doomhammer turned back to Torgus, who had stood nearby, waiting. "Tell Zuluhed to send all dragons to the Great Sea," he instructed the dragon rider. "Fly as fast as you can. You will have your chance to avenge your clanmate's death."

Torgus nodded, grinning at the thought of revenge, and turned back to his dragon, leaving Doomhammer to step back and allow the massive creature room to spread its colossal wings and take flight again. Doomhammer watched them fly away and ground his teeth again, his hands shaking with shock and rage. He had been so close! Another day at most and the city would have been his! Now that chance was gone. His odds of winning this war were slim at best. But honor had to come first.

Teron Gorefiend was standing nearby, and Doomhammer rounded on the death knight. "What of you, then, you rotting corpse?" Doomhammer demanded of the creature. "You followed Gul'dan once, and he has betrayed us all. Will you run to him now?"

The undead warrior stared at him for a moment with those glowing eyes, then shook his head. "Gul'dan has forsaken our people," Gorefiend replied. "We shall not. The Horde is all, and it retains our loyalty—as do you, as long as you lead it."

Doomhammer nodded brusquely, surprised by the creature's response. "Then go and protect our people as they retreat from the city," he ordered. Gorefiend obeyed, stalking away toward the other death knights and their undead steeds. Tharbek departed as well. For the moment, Doomhammer was alone.

"Gul'dan!" he shouted, raising his hammer high and shaking it at the heavens. "You will die for this! I will see that you suffer for betraying our race and risking our very survival!" The skies did not answer, but Doomhammer felt a little better for the proclamation. He lowered his hammer and turned back toward the war, already forcing himself to think about how best to lead his warriors down south, and how to get the rest of the Horde toward the sea.

Gul'dan leaned out over the prow and sniffed the sea air. He closed his eyes and allowed his mystical senses dominance, questing with his mind for the distinctive tang of magic. It hit him almost at once, so strong he could taste it like the metallic flavor of fresh blood, so powerful it made his skin tingle and his hair crackle.

"Stop!" he shouted over his shoulder, and behind him the clansmen stopped rowing. The boat halted immediately, sitting stock—still on the water, and Gul'dan smiled. "We are here," he announced.

"But—but there's nothing here," one of the orcs, a member of his own Stormreaver clan named Drak'thul, declared. Gul'dan turned, opening his eyes at last, and glared at the young orc warlock.

"No?" He grinned. "Then we will weight you with chains and send you down to the sea bottom to explore it for us. Or would you prefer to sit here and trust that I know what I am doing?" Drak'thul backed away, stammering an apology, but Gul'dan was already ignoring him. Instead he glanced across the water to the boat next to his, and to Cho'gall standing near its prow.