Lindir could not bring himself to leave Aman, and followed slowly behind her, trying to remain hidden, seeking only revenge against Thrakatburz for what she had done to the other witch. Aman stoppped in the allocated place to wait for Thrakatburz, and Lindir waited silently, his body tensed, for the arrival the dark temptress. He did not se her, but felt suddenly cold steel pressed against his neck.
"What have we here?" A cold voice whispered in his ear. "You would do better to be on your guard when you are in enemy territory." Flame danced across the blade of the dagger, stinging Lindir's neck and making him gulp. The dagger scraped against his neck and a single drip of blood quenched it's flames.
"It would be so easy to kill you now and leave your body here," Thrakatburz said watching the blood run along the blade of her knife and feeling it's power coursing through her viens, "but I want you to see what Aman has become. I want you to experience first hand her strength and her shadow." Her voice was malicious, cold and totally without any trace of remorse.
"She will not do it." Lindir croaked.
"We shall see." Replied his captor confidently, thrusting him towards the place where the red-haired elf was waiting.
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