the research he had been doing for his monograph on the descendants of Aenarion. Every single one of the places that had been attacked was a place where one of the Blood had dwelled and would most likely have been dwelling still had not the daemon attacked. And it seemed very likely that a creature as malicious as N’Kari would seek revenge upon the descendants of the Phoenix King who had caused him so much inconvenience as to slay him twice.
Yes, he thought, I have it. The Keeper of Secrets is killing the descendants of Aenarion one by one. He intends to wipe out the line. Urian smiled a secret smile, knowing that for once he really was ahead of every other elf in the room.
The question was, what was he going to do with this knowledge? It would be a very dangerous thing to keep this from his master. If N’Kari was killing all of the descendants of Aenarion, the Witch King himself must surely head the list of potential victims. It would be interesting to see what happened when an ancient and powerful daemon clashed with the mighty ruler of Naggaroth.
For Urian the question became whether the reward his master would give him for finding out this information would be of greater value to him than the amusement to be gained from letting the struggle happen.
Lady Malene noticed him smiling. She looked at him sourly and said, ‘Prince Iltharis, perhaps you would care to share the joke with us. I do not really see anything to smile about in this long list of the dead.’
‘Forgive me, Lady Malene, my mind is full of butterflies tonight. I was merely pleased by the taste of this fine vintage. There is indeed nothing to smile about in this catalogue of horrors. Now if you could excuse me, something has just occurred to me and I must beg leave to return to my mansion and consult with my books.’
‘Your hypothesis is an interesting one, Urian,’ said Malekith. Even over all the long leagues between the two communicating mirrors, Urian could hear the anger in his master’s voice. ‘And it concurs with some information my mother has seen fit to pass on to me.’
‘She has had one of her visions, sire?’ Urian was suddenly glad he had chosen to pass on his information to Malekith. Not to have done so and then to have the Witch King even suspect he had behaved in this fashion would be inevitably fatal.
‘Precisely so, Urian, or so she would have me believe. It is also true that my mother has her own sources within the Cults of Luxury in Ulthuan, some of them hidden even from me.’
It was typical of Malekith to speak that way, Urian thought. It implied that he knew a very great deal even as he admitted he did not know everything. Knowing his master it was most likely an accurate summation as well. Malekith was only imprecise when he wanted to be.
‘What would you have me do, sire?’ Urian asked. This was the nub of the matter.
Malekith was silent for a long moment. Urian could almost feel the force of his thoughts, the titanic brooding immensity of his calculations. He was looking at the matter from all sides, weighing advantages and disadvantages closely.
‘I think it would be useful if you were to share your theory at the next council. It would redound to your credit. And if perchance our misguided kinsfolk should teach this arrogant daemon a lesson then so much the better.’
‘As you wish, sire,’ said Urian, feeling certain as always that his master had kept his real purposes hidden and his real reasons obscure. It certainly could not be that Malekith was frightened by the possibility of the daemon coming for him.
Nothing frightened the Witch King. Urian was very certain of that. Still if anything might, the possibility of a Greater Daemon of Chaos coming to seek vengeance would surely head the list.
Urian looked around the chamber. His expression was grave but inwardly he was enjoying the commotion he had caused. He was also feeling secretly smug. It was he, after all, who had divined the daemon’s intentions, not these clever wizards, or proud scholars or even the Witch King himself.
‘I do not believe this, Prince Iltharis’ said Eltharik.
Urian smiled at him. ‘Perhaps that is because you did not think of it yourself.’
The wizard’s mouth fell open. He was obviously not used to being talked to this way, except perhaps by