usual. He felt like he had something in common with both of these elves and that was not a bad thing. They were equally great warriors in their way and he could learn something from both of them. He was going to have to if he was going to become the fighter he wanted to be.
‘You think too much, my friend,’ said Iltharis.
‘I don’t think you can ever do that,’ said Korhien. ‘Too many people kill without thinking in this world.’
‘You and I are in agreement about that, at least,’ said Iltharis. ‘But come. Let us celebrate the fact our young friend is alive. We can all agree that is a good thing and raise a glass to it.’
‘Let us not get too drunk. There will be another council this afternoon. You would not want to embarrass yourself in front of the Phoenix King.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-three
Urian took another sip of the very fine wine the Phoenix King had provided for his advisors. There was some subtle narcotic in it, something that sharpened the wits and blunted the edge of fatigue. Of course, it was not nearly as potent as the equivalent vintage would have been in Naggaroth, but that was not necessarily a bad thing. If these elves had been drinking that wine they would most likely have been at each other’s throats by now. He set the goblet back down on the highly polished table and listened to the equally polished debate.
By this stage of the proceedings, it was not so much about deciding what was to be done or what the problem really was. It was more about who would get to make the decisions, who would make his rivals look foolish or weak or lacking in knowledge, who would get the credit if there was any credit to be had and who would be apportioned blame in the event of anything going wrong.
It did not matter where elves came from, Naggaroth or Ulthuan, in this their councils were always alike. Of course, in Ulthuan the stakes were not as high as they were in Naggaroth. Here, the worst that was likely to happen to anyone coming out on the losing side in a debate was that they might lose face or some fractional increment of prestige. In Naggaroth, where the stakes were in favour of Malekith, there was always the stimulating possibility that death might await the loser. The Witch King did not tolerate failure and he did not love bad advice.
Listening to some of these windbags, Urian thought they might benefit from the lash of Malekith’s iron discipline. It would certainly stop them from rambling on and on and on. One thing he could safely say about the wizards of Ulthuan was that they loved the sound of their own voices.
It made him almost nostalgic for those councils where the Witch King would execute those who bored him. Like all tyrants, Malekith loved only the sound of his own voice and was intolerant of those who would steal away some small fraction of the attention that he craved. That was his rightful entitlement, Urian corrected himself ironically.
At the moment the archmage Eltharik was laying markers on the maps of Ulthuan spread out on the great table of the council chamber. He was making the point yet again that all of the attacks had taken place near waystones. He was also placing the names of those who dwelled in areas that had been attacked and were known to have been killed.
As he listened to the long list of casualties, Urian almost sat bolt upright. For a moment he thought he perceived the pattern and he listened carefully to what was being said. As the evening wore on and Eltharik continued to bore with a list of names that he had so lovingly compiled for this purpose, Urian again and again heard names that were familiar to him from his studies.
He wondered if anybody else had seen the pattern, and decided that they had not because they did not share his fascination with the heritage of his master Malekith and his very potent father.
He wondered whether he was really correct. Perhaps it was simply seeing something random. It was the nature of the mind to try and make order out of chaos, to try and see patterns in everything. That was a danger that he was well aware of. And yet, the more he thought about it, the more what he saw made sense.