"You failed in my brother's service. You will not fail in mine."
Aphar Amizrak bowed low before the throne of Carn Dûm and once again the steel-laced voice echoed from the dais.
"I will give you the means to destroy the elf-witch. That....and that only is your task. Go from this place to Imlad Balchorth, there you will find those who will fight with you."
Aphar raised his voice, "Many thanks, mighty lord. I will do all according to your word. The Iaurmenel witch will perish, I swear it." The eastern prince bowed once again.
The voice of the Witch King cut through the air of the vast chamber like a blade through flesh. "Do not think that you will use my strength for your own ends...what my eyes do not see, my Master's eye does."
Aphar straightened his stance, throwing his head back in a gesture of proud confidence. "O Great One. I will see this done, I give you my oath." Summoning his armsmen he turned and started down the length of the great chamber, the rich robes he wore billowing out behind him.
Behind him the voice from the throne hissed, "You will give me everything..."
