The daemon raged against the ever-tightening web of spells constraining it but they held. N’Kari was trapped within. His appearance changed again, becoming that of a seductive female elf. Its voice was the very essence of reasonableness.
‘State your terms,’ it said.
N’Kari considered the Witch King. As mortals went, he was impressive. His massive armoured figure radiated power and not unjustified confidence. The spells he had woven were well-constructed, a trap that it might take N’Kari millennia to escape from.
He had already spent too much time in this pathetic place bound into the Vortex. In mortal form, ennui would press as heavily on him as any other resident of this time and space. He felt sure that he could free himself eventually, but it might be easier to appear to give the mortal what he wanted. He was also sure that, in the long run, he would find a way to turn the tables on the arrogant fool. He always did.
‘State your terms,’ N’Kari said. The Witch King laughed triumphantly. Laugh away little mortal, N’Kari thought. I will have the last laugh.
‘Extend your arm,’ said the Witch King. N’Kari complied. Perhaps his foe would be foolish enough to break the magic circle binding him… Bracelets and chains snapped into place. The most powerful binding spell N’Kari had ever experienced snapped into place with them.
‘Now you truly are my servant,’ said Malekith, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice.
N’Kari wanted to howl with rage, but the spells binding him would not even allow him that.
The dark elf assassin known as Urian Poisonblade and Prince Iltharis and dozens of other names looked across the carved table at the beautiful woman he was going to kill and smiled. She smiled back. Her glance moved from the table to the sleeping silks that filled the remainder of this small intimate tent. Outside throngs moved through the tent city that was the capital of the Everqueen. Inside spells kept all noise at bay. They could have been alone in the wild woods of Avelorn and not surrounded by her subjects.
It was a pity, he thought. She really was lovely and he liked her, and none of that emotion was caused by the aura of compulsive magic that surrounded her. It could not be. Centuries ago the Witch King of Naggaroth had wound him round with spells that made him immune to such sorceries.
As with Morathi, the Everqueen had great natural beauty and great natural charm and these were only amplified and enhanced by her magic, not a product of them. She was every bit as good-natured as she seemed and she looked genuinely interested in him as a person. Unlike some mighty personages he had encountered, she was not just acting the part.
If it had been up to him she could have lived out her natural span of days in peace. But, as always, it was not his decision, it was the Witch King’s. He felt sure that he was only one small link in a very long chain of plans and conspiracies his master had woven.
Urian was only Malekith’s tool in this matter as he was in so many others. Malekith had made him, had raised him up and could knock him down again. And if the woman sitting opposite him had been aware of his true history she would be calling for her guards right now.
Briefly he wondered why the Witch King was having the Everqueen killed now. She would simply be replaced by her daughter who was kept in a secure place far distant from the court, like all of an Everqueen’s daughters. The elves had learned long ago from the loss of Aenarion’s children by the first Everqueen. Never again would their royal family be assembled in one place, able to be killed in one fell swoop, or saved only by an accident so unlikely it smacked of divine intervention.
Doubtless timing had something to do with it. Or perhaps Malekith had found the Everqueen’s daughter and other assassins were even now at work…
‘You look very thoughtful, Prince Iltharis,’ the Everqueen said, reaching out to touch his hand in a most intimate manner. ‘Are you contemplating some deep matter of ancient history once again?’
Urian smiled. She thought of him only as a scholar and a formidable duellist, one of the many glittering talents who visited her court. He had made his reputation as a student of the history of the line of Aenarion, to