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 elvinian clapped his hands twice, and a daemon appeared before him, bowing his head in respect. “Fetch for me Apparition, Arkadia and the thief Mobius,” he commanded, and the daemon nodded and swiftly flew out of the room. Relvinian smiled. His daemons served him so well; he sometimes wondered why he bothered with other humans at all.
He walked smoothly down the stone corridor of his mountain lair to the throne room, and sat himself upon the velvet chair that dominated the chamber. The three men he had summoned entered the room and knelt before him. “Master,” Arkadia acknowledged, “your servants await your desire.”
Relvinian nodded, pleased. “My desires are great, Captain,” he said. “But you three will suffice to carry out my orders. Arkadia, tell your orc chieftain that we move tonight.”
“Tonight, Master? Have you finally discovered the secret of the relic?”
Relvinian frowned. “Impudence doesn’t suit you, Arkadia,” he said grimly. “But by tonight, the secret will be revealed. Apparition, Mobius… your duties are thus: See to it that I am not disturbed.”
“Yes, Master,” they said as one.
“Now take your positions,” Relvinian said in dismissal, and watched satisfactorily as they left the chamber. Indeed, the answer had come to him in his meditations. “Tonight,” he whispered out loud, “Britannia will be mine.”
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