‘And what of the Eastern Army? Have they passed through this way?’
‘We’ve seen neither hide nor hair of them, my lord.’
Torben slowly and carefully manoeuvred himself to one side of the room so that he could get a better look at the figure in the chair. As his line of vision was cleared, he saw that it was Aristotles, the grey elf that Torben had seen in the woods with King Rassal not long before. He looked almost exactly the same as in the vision, despite the fact that the events Torben had just witnessed took place hundreds of years ago. His white-blonde hair shimmered in the light just as it had before, the gaze of his ice-blue eyes seemed just as piercing as they bore into the terrified man before him, and even the robes that he wore looked almost identical. Hrex looked decidedly old
