"I wonder where Morlock's army has gone?" said Paris with a nervous glance to the northwest and southeast. "And what of a fresh attack from the Burning Lands?"
"Morlock's own soldiers have no doubt returned to his castle," Niles replied. "That appears to be the direction in which they departed. For now, let's just see what the morning shall bring."
The next day, Niles arose and called Paris to him. "I do not think we will attempt the east way," he said, "lest we wander into Morlock's hordes."
Paris nodded, adding. "If the Demon King's army was to return as well, as you warned, our position could become . . . awkward."
"We shall circle around north, then," said Niles, smiling at Paris' understatement, "out of harm's way, for now."
It was another two days before the signs of war passed. The stink of death was becoming hard to bear; the air buzzed with flies, the sky wheeled with black carrion-fowl. Three days more and they were well north of Morlock's castle. As they turned and began making their way south, Paris asked, "Sire, do you think this was a fool's errand, as Palindor said?"
"If it is," Niles replied, "there may soon be none left to mock us."