Second Conference

That night, Gudul was wiping grease from the iron rack. The squeaking sound seemed to be questioning Lothar's lineage.

"If this is true, it means King Terenas knows the situation in every kingdom like the back of his hand. Otherwise, he wouldn't know Lothar's true identity. He even kept it from everyone," Nathanos said.

"Didn't expect that. I thought the Arathi bloodline had vanished," the Dwarf replied.

"This is a shot in the arm. The question is whether the kings are willing to acknowledge Lothar's identity."

Gudul casually tossed aside the rag, clapped his hands, and went to sort through a crate of unused iron ore. He gave Nathanos a look, telling him to come help.

"Unless Lothar only asks for an alliance, not submission."

"The King of Gilneas did express similar dissatisfaction. He suspects Lothar came to control the kings," Nathanos said. Recalling everything that had happened today, he remembered King Greymane's expression gradually darkening after learning Lothar's true identity.

"And what did Lothar say?" Gudul heaved the heavy crate onto the top of the pile of clutter.

"Of course, he denied Genn's claim. It probably wasn't a lie."

For the final step, Gudul picked a half-finished bottle of ale from a cabinet, bit off the cap, and took several gulps. "Do you know about the war between the Arathi Empire and the Trolls?"

"Why ask that all of a sudden?"

"Because Lothar's arrival can still help him seek allies through an ancient pact," Gudul pointed out. "The Elves of northern Quel'Thalas once swore to provide aid whenever Sor'Thalas or his descendants needed it. I think they will still honor that oath."

"Elves!" Nathanos could not help clenching his fists when he heard Gudul's words.

The Dwarf knew there was some friction between Nathanos and the Elves. He did not try to comfort Nathanos, because Nathanos's anger toward them held no hatred. It was more a refusal to accept defeat.

Nathanos calmed himself slightly and began considering Gudul's words again. If even his mentor, who hammered iron ore for a living, knew this much, then the kings must have thought of it as well. Lothar would now be an envoy who might be able to contact those Elves.

"That would be very good news," Nathanos commented coolly.

"You always have to look on the bright side, child. Perhaps after dinner tonight, the kings will announce that they agree with Lothar's proposal."

Would they really? Nathanos was still pondering that question on his way home. Curfew had already passed in Lordaeron's capital, and the quiet streets were exactly what he needed...

Two days after the first meeting, the kings began their second conference. Nathanos found himself standing in the Lordaeron Throne Room with the rulers of the continent again. He was deeply unwilling, but Uther had practically ordered him to attend, because something that would go down in history might happen today.

Lothar and Khadgar had come as well. Lothar was pleased that Khadgar had joined them. He had known this young wizard since back in Elwynn Forest. Though Khadgar was not a resident of the Stormwind Kingdom, he still reminded Lothar of his homeland.

His homeland—a place that no longer existed. Lothar knew he had to admit it in many ways, yet it still felt so unreal. He still hoped that if he turned around, he would see Llane laughing, or hear his warriors fighting. But everything was gone. His friends were dead, and his home had fallen. He swore that he would save his homeland from the darkness, even if it cost him the rest of his life.

Nathanos, meanwhile, had no interest in the council at all. It all came down to one word: politics. Nathanos had no patience for such things. He knew perfectly well that anything involving power was nothing more than a game, and the kings before him were the game's strategists. Only one thing never changed: no one was ever a true winner in this game. The strongest always did everything possible to preserve his gains. In Nathanos's view, these rulers of the continent were skilled at playing this game. Handling these matters with them would give Lothar a terrible headache.

After the first meeting, they returned to this throne room for the second conference and held further discussions. It seemed everyone agreed that the Horde was coming, even the exceptionally slippery Perenolde, though he might merely have been going along with the others. Nathanos believed the kings must have communicated in private over the past few days, perhaps even reached some agreement. They had surely made their confidants weigh the advantages and disadvantages.

Lothar now began explaining to everyone that unifying their armies was the only way forward. Terenas immediately agreed. Fortunately, Thoradin and Proudmoore soon agreed as well, though it took some effort to persuade them. Perenolde and Greymane, however, were more difficult. Lothar was not surprised by Perenolde's reluctance. Like certain men he had known in Stormwind City, Perenolde was slippery, ill-intentioned, and always liked to keep apart from the rest. Perhaps Perenolde was personally afraid of this war and had only been dragged into the matter against his will. The others were undoubtedly braver than he was. Greymane's decision, however, came as a surprise. His powerful build and heavy armor made it clear that he was a warrior without question. He had not said that he did not wish to fight, yet whenever the war was brought up, he quickly proposed another suggestion. In his view, Terenas had agreed to Lothar's proposal so readily only because the two had discussed it in private. Genn absolutely did not believe Terenas would help Stormwind City selflessly. Perenolde, naturally, kept insisting on investigating the matter as thoroughly as possible. In short, he did not want to get involved in this war. Only when Proudmoore and Thoradin accused Genn of cowardice did the burly man agree with Lothar's view.

The day was nearly over. Their discussion gradually turned to logistical matters: how the various armies would assemble, where they would be stationed, how supplies would be provided to them—on and on without end. Lothar found this council even more difficult than he had expected. As Stormwind City's foremost commander, he could certainly solve such problems, but he had only ever handled the army of one kingdom. Now they were discussing the affairs of five kingdoms, and every king had his own opinion. To satisfy them, Lothar had already made the greatest concessions possible. He had not even counted the survivors of the Stormwind Kingdom whom he might be able to rally.

"Actually, there is only one simplest and most direct way to solve this problem."

As everyone debated, a voice rang out—clear yet calm, echoing through the council chamber. Everyone looked over curiously.

"Nathanos, what are you doing?" Uther's eyes widened. He could not believe the one who had spoken was his own apprentice. This was a council of kings. Anyone who interrupted was showing disrespect to the kings.

"Just ending this council sooner," Nathanos said, turning to look at his grim-faced mentor. He knew he was being terribly rude.

"What? Who are you?" Genn asked. He had just been about to suggest stationing his army in southern Gilneas.

"Merely an adviser offering a solution to the troubles of everyone present." Nathanos bowed deeply. It was not out of respect for the kings, but to prevent them from saying something like, "You have no standing to speak here."

Terenas knew this young man. Uther's apprentice—Uther had praised Nathanos to him more than once. Uther was certain that Nathanos would one day become a pillar of Lordaeron. Now, Terenas wanted to know whether the instincts of the man he trusted most were correct.

"Then tell us your proposal."

"Certainly, Your Majesty. The simplest solution is to immediately elect a supreme commander for the allied forces. We would have to discuss this issue sooner or later anyway, but I have found that the answer can solve two problems, one of which is the matter you are currently debating."