bound the daemon. It was serving them, and the strategic advantages of being able to move huge forces across Ulthuan so swiftly and unknown by their enemy were enormous. The task he had been set was proof of this.
It was a gigantic risk but it could so easily pay off, and if it did… This would be a victory still talked about in ten thousand years. The spoils that would go to the victors would be fantastic.
Dorian knew too that this was a campaign that had been centuries in the planning. The Witch King must know what he was doing. Their foes would be taken utterly and completely off guard and in a war like this, the advantage of surprise would be worth legions of warriors.
For the moment then, Dorian was determined to follow, but if things went wrong, then it would be time to consider the possibility of a new ruler of Naggaroth and exactly how that might be arranged.
N’Kari looked around. His magical senses told him that they were in Avelorn. Not much had changed in these forests since he had rampaged across Ulthuan all those millennia ago. It would have given him as much pleasure as ever to watch them burn, but he could not make it happen. He was constrained by this accursed chain and the Witch King’s spells not to invoke his power, even in self-defence. If he were attacked now, he would have to rely on the natural resilience of his daemonic incarnation to save him, nothing else would.
The winds of magic brought something else to his spiritual senses than the scent of the forest’s old magic. He could tell that somewhere relatively close at hand were at least two descendants of Aenarion. Their psychic stench was quite unmistakable. One of them was even familiar, although it had been over a century since N’Kari had last smelled it.
It belonged to Tyrion who had helped in his ignominious undoing at the Shrine of Asuryan. Just the faintest hint of that spiritual aroma set N’Kari to flexing his hands like claws. He salivated at the thought of tearing that particular prey apart. This time he would not toy with his victim until after he was certain it could not escape doom.
Of course, right now there was nothing he could do. He was constrained to pass back through the portal he had opened and return to Malekith’s side. He would need to do something to ensure that this situation did not last indefinitely.
His thirst for revenge on the whole line of Aenarion burned stronger than ever.
As soon as N’Kari vanished, a weight lifted from Dorian’s shoulders even though the portal remained where the daemon had opened it, glowing in the air. He took a deep sniff of the pine-scented air. It was fresh and pure and smelled of living things. It was quite unlike the chill air of Naggaroth and yet there was something about its purity that reminded him of his homeland. He looked around and he could not help but smile.
It was said that long ago the first elves had been born in the forests during the long golden reign of the first Everqueen. It was still thought by many that the forests were the true home of his people and at this moment he could believe it.
This was indeed a magical place. He could feel it in the air. Powerful sorcery surrounded him. For a moment that made him fearful, but only for a moment. This was not the sort of magic that was intended to harm. It was the magic of growing things, of life, of this most ancient forest. Potent though it was, it had nothing to do with warfare or death or killing.
He looked around at his warriors and could see that their faces were similarly transformed. Just for a moment they had all returned to childhood. There was something about this place that would do that to even the most cynical dark elf. Druchii who hated each other and been rivals for decades exchanged smiles and then looked away from each other as if embarrassed, not quite understanding what was happening to them.
Perhaps he was wrong, Dorian thought. Perhaps this place did have the means to protect itself. Perhaps they were coming under its influence right now. If that was the case, he would soon put a stop to it. He bellowed instructions to his soldiers, telling them to form up in ranks, to set up a defensive perimeter, to