I am very grateful for that. Perhaps I misjudged you, Prince Tyrion.’

Tyrion was very surprised to receive that apology. After all, he was the one who had been rude to her over the past few days. ‘I do not think you were wrong about me at all, your serenity. And I think that the reason that we are here is that the gods have smiled upon us so far.’

‘Then we are the only ones that the gods have smiled upon. I do not think there are many more survivors among our people.’

Tyrion felt cold rage spark within his heart. ‘I left a number of friends back there cold upon the ground. The dark elves owe me a great debt, and I intend to collect upon it. But first we must get you to safety. As long as you are alive and free, the Witch King’s plan has failed. Let us see that it continues to do so. If this is the only blow that we can strike against our enemies, it will have to do, for now.’

‘Yes, Prince Tyrion. Let us do exactly that.’ She began to collect some berries from the undergrowth. ‘And now let us eat. We will need all of our strength and all of our wits about us if we are going to maintain our freedom.’

‘How do you know these are not poisonous?’ Tyrion asked.

Her smile was dazzling. ‘I grew up here, Prince Tyrion. There is little I don’t know about life in these woods.’

‘I am glad one of us has that knowledge,’ said Tyrion. ‘I suspect it is going to prove necessary.’

Chapter Two

Death looked at the witch elf piece and smiled. It was removed from the board now but the pawn had done its work. It had infected Prince Tyrion with a poison that would surely kill him before he could perform his purpose. If nothing else, it would slow him down until the pursuit could overtake him.

‘A subtle move,’ Caledor said.

Death smiled. ‘I await your response with interest.’

Caledor focussed his power on the square containing Tyrion and the new Everqueen. It was near a waystone. Of course it was. He saw another part of the pattern here.

Somehow his enemies were using the Vortex as part of their plans, or perhaps the mystical structures of the Old Ones that lay beneath. It mattered not at this moment in time. He needed to concentrate on making events run his way.

A vision danced into his mind, of a torn pavilion, a pile of corpses, an army running half out of control. The dead lay everywhere, elves. A huge number were garbed as if for a festival. Far fewer of the corpses wore the iron armour of the dark elves.