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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
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Chapter Eight - Thomas Conway, Age 30
"Light some more lanterns, Norah," Thomas said. He had dressed quickly and was putting on a coat to battle against the storm raging outside.
"Find him," Norah said as she did as he asked. Her inner strength was showing as she kept herself in check and gathered the girls on the couch under a warm quilt.
Foster came tearing down the stairs dressed. "I'm coming too!" he declared.
"You are not!" Norah snapped.
"He's out there because of me," Foster pleaded. "I was mean to him. I shouldn't have been … I'm his brother. He needs me!"
Norah looked over at Thomas and he nodded. She grabbed an over-sized rain slicker and wrapped Foster up in it. Then she handed her son one of the freshly lit lamps. "Be careful," she said giving him a hug.
Foster nodded and ran for the door; Thomas went with him trying his best to follow his wife's calm front. Nathaniel was so small and the downpour continued outside. At least there hadn't been any wolf sightings near the farm lately. He should have done more, earlier in the evening, his young son had seemed so distant, so unlike himself. He had blamed it on his true mother's blood … he should have done more instead of chalking it up to boys being boys.
"Nathaniel!" Foster shouted into the darkness.
"Go check the barn," Thomas instructed him. "Wake the Paxtons, maybe he nestled down with them."
Foster nodded and ran over to the barn. Soon the night air was filled with three voices calling, Rosemary had joined the girls in the house to wait.
"I'm sorry, Nathaniel," Foster cried out into the night. "I love you, you're my brother … my only one … please come back."
The shouts went unanswered, after about an hour of searching in the freezing rain Thomas led a sobbing Foster back into the house to warm up in his mother's arms. Leaving him there he went back out into the storm, for a moment he stood still and looked around, the icy water splattering on his face. It hid the warm tears. He saw Grant come out of the barn, after another fruitless search. "Please, please let him be somewhere warm and safe," Thomas prayed.
Grant ran over to him. "Where do we look next?" he asked.
The sun was just starting to come up. "I need you to take one of the horses and get us some help; head to Darrowshire … keep your eyes open as your ride."
"All right," Grant said. "We'll find him. He's just a babe he couldn't have walked too far in this storm; he's squirreled up somewhere I'm sure."
The rain continued through the morning but it didn't deter the help. Soon their little homestead was a flurry of activity. The older women of Darrowshire took over the house, to comfort Norah and help with watching the young ones. The men and some of women gathered out in front of the house. Thomas separated them into search groups and sent them in various directions
"Are you sure the babe ran off on his own?" Carlin asked. The eldest Redpath was now twenty; Thomas noted the young man's hairline was going to share the same fate as his father. "I mean … you sure no one took him? That might broaden our search area if so."
"He had been out of sorts last night," Thomas said. "I think Daisy or Wags would have warned us if someone came into the house …" His voice trailed off. "The dogs … they're gone … why didn't I notice?" He let out a shrill whistle but it went unanswered. "The dogs are with him, I'm sure of it … Nathaniel may not call out to us for one reason or another but the dogs will. Go, tell folks to call out for the dogs as well as Nathaniel!"
Carlin nodded and he and the few others gathered around scattered in various directions. For a long moment Thomas just stood in the middle of the farm. Where hadn't he looked? Turning his head up into the rain he whispered, "Please, my lady, I'm sure you're watching over your son right now. Please, show me where he is."
There was no divine answer, and with a deep sigh he turned north, his eyes watching the ground for any signs of little feet. It was now full light outside but the heavy rain clouds kept the sun hidden. The forest echoed with shouts of Nathaniel's name, why didn't he answer? What was going through the child's mind that caused him to run away? Another hour passed and he found himself on the shore of Lake Mereldar. He scanned the lake with dread looking for anything out of the norm. At that moment he heard a howl in the distance, it was coming from the southern mountain range. The weariness faded and Thomas raced toward the sound. Maybe it hadn't been Wags, perhaps it was a wolf or someone else's dog, but Thomas had to hope, he'd run out of the heart to do anything else.
He let out a shrill whistle as he ran; it was answered by a distant bark. The sounds of a horse racing behind him caused him to pause. Joseph Redpath slid of his chestnut mare and gave the reins to Thomas. "Go!" he said.
Nodding his thanks Thomas swung up on the saddle and urged the horse onward. Soon he encountered the jagged cliffs of the mountain side and before he could call his dog he noticed a small crowd of people. He hurried that direction, Grant was with them and he saw his approach. "We think we found him!" he shouted.
"Think?" Thomas shouted back.
Grant pointed up the rocky cliff and Thomas spotted Wags standing on a tiny ledge, halfway up the mountain. As he slid off the horse, he realized why the crowd wasn't confirming their suspicions. The heavy rain from last night had caused a mudslide; there wasn't a clear path up to the dog. Wags got excited at the sight of his master and started to dance around his precarious ridge, his hind leg slipped and he let out a yelp scrambling back up and into a small crevice Thomas had failed to see at first look.
"Nathaniel, are you up there?" Thomas shouted. When he received no answer he tried again, "Nathaniel Conway, you answer your pa right this instant!"
Wags large head peered over the edge and around his neck were two pale, dirt streaked arms. Nathaniel looked down at the crowd, his face muddy and his thin sleeping shirt wet and clinging to him. The joy of seeing his son alive was quickly replaced by the fear of his situation. "Papa …"
"Yes, my son, Papa is here … you hold onto Wags really tight and stay in that cave we'll get you down," Thomas yelled back. He looked at the barren mountainside. "Somehow," he whispered.
"Papa, Daisy hurt," Nathaniel called down.
"It will be okay," Thomas replied.
"I tried to climb it," Grant said at his side. "It just caused more rocks and dirt to fall … Whatever path he took up there has been washed away. Maybe we can get to him from above?"
"Fan out," Thomas said. "Look for a way up, but be safe … don't do anything reckless."
"Papa?" Nathaniel's small voice called down again. "Papa, I cold and wet …"
"Hold onto Wags," Thomas called back up. "He'll keep you warm."
"By the Light …" He turned to find his wife standing at his side. "Nathaniel!"
"Mama?" his son yelled as Wags was pushed out of the way.
"Nathaniel, no!" Thomas shouted.
The large dog lost his footing as he was forced out of the cave, with a yelp that would haunt Thomas's nightmares for nights to come; he tumbled down the edge of the cliff landing with a sickening thud at the feet of his master. Nathaniel was snatched by his shirt and dragged back inside as the ledge crumbled by Daisy.
"Watch out!" Grant shouted, grabbing Thomas and Norah by the arms he pulled them back as the mountain side crumbled. When the dust cleared Wags had been buried under the dirt and rock. Nathaniel's haven miraculously stayed exposed, for a moment Thomas was afraid he had been buried alongside his faithful pet.
"Papa!" Nathaniel's cry was frantic.
"Stay still, my son," Thomas called back up, "please just stay still."
"Oh, Thomas, what are we going to do?" Norah said at his side. "There is no way we're going to reach him unless we grow wings and fly."
"Griffons," Joseph Redpath said at his side.
"What?" Thomas asked confused.
"Griffons they can fly …" the young man said.
"So can birds but I don't think we can convince one to come and get our son for us," Thomas said bitterly.
"The Wildhammer Clan in Aerie Peak," Joseph said, "they're a clan of dwarves, the griffons there are like pets to them, at least that is what I was told."
"Aerie Peak," Thomas said, "It will take a month to reach it …"
"No," Carlin Redpath said, stepping up beside his brother. "There is a pass, behind Caer Darrow, leads straight into the mountains. My brother and I could make it in a day's time I know it. The griffon can fly back even faster …"
"And why would the dwarves help us?" Thomas asked.
"There is talk they joined the alliance, they would have to …" Joseph said. "Plus he's just a babe; there is no way anyone with a heart would say no."
"Go," Thomas said. "Please, you're the only chance he has."
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Brothers