Freya folded her arms and stood before her Portal device, a small smirk on her face. One foot was thrust forward, her hips tilted provocatively. Before her, light flared as energy surged, and power turned inside-out as a Portal entrance was formed from the central gemstone of her device.

A shadow raced from the distance inside the Portal tunnel and resolved itself into the shape of an old Mage and his staff. The Mage stepped forward, his face twisted into a glower. Freya's lips curled further.

The Portal closed with a resonating boom behind him. He planted the end of his staff on the floor of the chamber, causing a tiny blue spark to snap at the air.

"Grandfather," said Freya.

"Granddaughter," said Q'yros.

"Yes, I can see you are just as teary-eyed with joy to see me as I am you. All right, reunion over. Do you have what I want?"

The Mage frowned. "You are extremely fortunate that I actually found a use for an Empiricist." He reached into his robes and extracted a single blue pearl.

Freya's eyes glittered. She held out her hand eagerly. Q'yros paused, then slapped the pearl into Freya's hand with a sense of resignation. Freya felt a small tingle as the magic in the pearl was activated.

"A Farviewing pearl," the Mage said in a tired voice. "Now bound to you."

Freya looked at the pearl and closed her fingers around it. "And?"

Q'yros clenched his teeth. He reached into his robes again and pulled out a second one. This one was etched with several small runes of a deeper purple color. He held it between forefinger and thumb to the light. "The control pearl," he announced with obvious resentment. "Which you use as if it were a Farviewing pearl. Except this is tied to the first. It will allow the first to convey sound to you on your command undetected."

"Only sound?"

"The transmission of visual images is difficult magic, granddaughter, and requires a line of sight to the scene being viewed. If I were to add such a thing to the pearl, you would likely receive the image of the inside of a drawer or a cabinet."

Freya did not look convinced, but nodded. "I suppose I will have to make do, then." She held out her palm.

Q'yros handed over the second pearl. Freya smiled and pocketed it. She then took the first pearl and presented it to the Mage. "Take it. You will need to deliver it for me."

Q'yros gripped his staff tightly. "I agreed to no such thing!"

"You will now if you expect to go beyond this point in my Manor."

The Mage held the staff level before him. "I would like to see you try to stop me."

Freya laughed. "And you think that would stop me from contacting your Guild and telling them you came on false pretenses? My my, I wonder what they would say?"

Q'yros' teeth ground together loud enough to be heard. He withdrew his staff and thumped it hard, a blue flash illuminating the interior of the chamber. "And just how to you expect me to do this? You truly think Roquan will accept something from me without question? He will be more suspicious of me handing this to him than if you did!"

"There is a merchant clan headed to Roquan's Manor now. It will be there very shortly. Let them deliver it. But there is something else."

"There always is with you."

"The merchants are to find the Urisi Ambassador and give him the pearl first and tell him to use it to contact me."

Q'yros frowned. "To what end?"

Freya gave him a shark-like smile. "You are that interested in the machinations of the Overlords? Isn't that outside your venue?"

Q'yros was about to answer her but stopped himself. Anything he might say of his interest could be interpreted as a move against Q'ixanna. "I withdraw the question."

"Good. After the Ambassador contacts me, he's to give the pearl back to the merchants and have them deliver it to Roquan. The explanation will be that I believe the old pearl to be worn out since he has not contacted me for so long."

Q'yros snorted. "You expect him to believe that?"

Freya smiled. "You expect him to suspect that the pearl will let me listen in on his private conversations without his knowledge? You yourself said he does not have a high grasp of magic."

Q'yros nodded reluctantly.

"Every Overlord pledges to maintain a means to contact all the others. He cannot refuse it."

Q'yros took the pearl from Freya. "Fine. I will do your hellfire-spawned work for you. Now, will you let me pass so I may do my work?"

Freya tilted her head. "And just what are you doing? I mean, really doing?"

Q'yros smiled humorlessly. "Now who is it that's getting curious about matters outside her own venue?"

Freya smirked. "I know you, grandfather. You may like to think we're not of the same blood or mind, but we are. You can be just as ruthless and devious as me."

"If you are changing the bargain further, granddaughter, you must let me know now. Otherwise, let me pass."

Freya considered, then nodded her head once and stepped aside. Q'yros did not pause. As soon as she began to move, his staff was in hand, and he barreled past her and out of the chamber without a backward glance.

Freya smiled. She had one part of her plan set in motion. Now she had to begin the next part, which was waiting for her in her private quarters.

She walked out of the chamber with a swing to her hips and a swirl of her dress about her thighs.

Z'haas leapt from his throne. "What do you mean he is gone?"

Q'holan tried his best not to cringe. "Your Master Agent did not report in after he staged his move against the foreign agent. No one has seen him since that time a few days ago."

"And no one has a Farviewing pearl bound to him?" the Emperor thundered, his face livid. "Must I do the thinking for everyone at court?"

"No, my Emperor, we do not. It was he that always contacted us, as by design."

"I had released three Imperial soldiers into his command! Where are they?"

Q'holan had dreaded this moment. "They're dead, my Emperor. Their bodies were found near a river outside the town of Jassa. They were killed with daggers. Our best guess is ..."

"Your best guess? I do not want guesses, I want answers! I want action!"

"We're doing out best, my Emperor!" Q'holan cried. "There were no witnesses, so we have to piece together what we can. All we can figure is that his move against the foreign agent went wrong."

"But what of my Master Agent? Where is he?"

"We don't know. Either he was captured by the foreign agent, or he escaped but is being pursued. Both would keep him out of communication."

The Emperor stepped up to the Mage, nostrils flaring. "We were betrayed, Q'holan."

The Mage looked confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Betrayed! Someone gave information to the foreign agent. Someone alerted him. I have another traitor in my midst!"

"But ... my Emperor, we don't know that. We don't know ..."

"I know enough! I have seen this treachery before. I have seen first hand what happens when someone you trust lets your enemy in the door when your back is turned."

Q'holan did not understand the reference. He knew little of the Emperor's personal history. He did not know that Z'haas had witnessed over Farview his own brother's murder by a foreign agent, or how that had fueled his obsession with the threat from the Far West and his paranoia for the security of his realm ever since.

"You are to have my agents drop whatever they are doing and look for the Master Agent. He may know who the traitor is."

"My Emperor, most of your agents are watching for movements of soldiers in the northern provinces. Do you wish to take all of them off that duty to ..."

"Stop questioning my orders! Do as I have commanded!"

Q'holan bowed his head quickly. "Yes, my Emperor, it will be done."

Forgetting protocol, the Mage fled before being formally dismissed. The Emperor was too furious to care.

Jollis left his mount by the gate for the guardsmen to return to the stables, much to their annoyance. It was generally the responsibility of all travelers to handle their own beasts and approach the gate on foot. But the Wanderer had bigger concerns, and his general mood was not one of cooperation.

He rushed into the Manor. One of his Cohorts approached at once and bowed his head in respect. "Master, it is good that you are back safe. We ..."

"It will wait," said Jollis curtly, rushing past him.

The Cohort was taken aback, so much so that he hesitated and had to jog to catch up with the merchant. "My apologies, Wanderer, but Overlord Gronnus wished to speak with you as soon as you get back."

"He will wait. All will wait. I have a more pressing matter. Do not disturb me again."

The deadly tone of Jollis' final statement made the Cohort come to an immediate stop. "As you wish, Master," he said softly, though Jollis had already taken a bend in the path through the Manor gardens and was out of sight.

Jollis was breathing heavily by the time he entered his quarters, but more from anxiety than exertion. "I accept the summons from my most esteemed and wise Master."

In the small space of Jollis' quarters, the image of Master Kyllos came into sharp relief. Jollis bowed slowly and reverently. "Your humble apprentice is here to serve."

Master Kyllos folded his hands before him and regarded his apprentice with an appraising look. As always, despite the resolute hardness of the lines around his mouth, a soft and almost affectionate look in his eyes bespoke of his true emotions.

Jollis had come such a very long way. The enormous pressure of this task would have destroyed lesser men. It distressed him when he needed to contact Jollis in this manner. "You honor me as always, my Wanderer," said Kyllos, his voice firm but kind.

"What may I do for you, Master?"

"I am to request your timetable for sending more of the Overlords' slaves to us."

"Had not Overlord Freya been generous enough in her last transaction?"

Kyllos paused. It was very brief, but Jollis picked up on it and tensed. "I would defer to your judgment on that."

Now Jollis would be forced to make the admission that he was not on top of some crucial element of the plan. "I beg forgiveness. I had not checked with my cohorts. I have been distracted."

"I see."

"An unforeseen complication," said Jollis heavily. "An attempt by an Imperial agent to either kill or capture me. However, I present that as an explanation, not an excuse. Once the crisis had passed, I had ample opportunity to check on the status of that transaction. The fault lies with me."

Jollis felt a great weight upon him. He had never divulged anything about his feelings for Amanda to his Master. His Farview with her had affected him far more emotionally than he wanted to admit. Little else occupied him on his trip back to the Manor. He saw it as an unpardonable sin.

"That will be a matter for another discussion. Neither of us must let anything distract us," declared Kyllos.

"Agreed. You wisdom is, as always, far greater than mine."

"The transaction was completed as the Overlord had agreed. We received the number of slaves that she had promised. But we still do not have a great enough variety. These expand our list of targets to only three more additional Noble Lords."

Jollis wanted to sigh in exasperation, but this would be a sign of weakness. He wished to make no further doubts in his Master's mind. "I will push Overlord Freya into providing more worldly slaves."

"Was that not the original request put to her?"

"Yes, I carefully stipulated this. But Overlord Freya is duplicitous. She will cheat when it is to her advantage and she believes she can avoid detection. She believes she can claim that her slaves are well-traveled and that no one could conclusively prove her wrong."

Master Kyllos frowned. "Most unfortunate."

"In some ways, Master, she is more difficult than Overlord Gronnus."

"Nevertheless, I must ask you to use whatever means at your disposal to obtain a greater variety."

Jollis thought it was an impossible task. Freya was difficult to manipulate to any great degree. Gronnus was weak-willed enough to be browbeat or bribed into compliance. Freya was too cunning. Yet his Master had given him a task, and he would not refuse it.

"It will be done, Master," said Jollis with a bow of his head.

Kyllos nodded. "Now, I wish to know how concerned are you about this incident with the Imperial agents?"

"There is some danger, yes," admitted Jollis. "I will restrict my movements from this point forward. I do not believe that the Emperor will mount any sort of overt military move towards me. He is too distracted with the civil war. His recent westward movements suggest he is preparing for an engagement northward, but the D'yoran Manor is not along any likely route of advance."

"But you would agree that time is short?"

"Yes. But I have known this. I will push onward. I will not fail you."

Master Kyllos hid his concern beneath a neutral expression. While he wanted his apprentice to succeed, he did not want it to deteriorate into obsession. Such men rarely succeeded. Driven as they were by their own passion, they failed to see obvious signs of impending failure in time to correct their course.

"In that case, my Wanderer, I will leave it in your capable hands. I am, however, reminded of a saying that I believe applies in this case, and that I wish you take to heart. The best plans come from the mind of the wise man, but it is the fool that accepts them without question."

Jollis was too stunned to reply.

Master Kyllos smiled gently. "Good fortune to you, Jollis." His hand lifted and gestured. The image faded from sight.

Jollis silently contemplated his Master's words. Such sayings were not dropped into conversation simply because they sounded good. They were spoken to make a point, or a subtle suggestion, or a hint to help guide one's path forward.

But he was not sure how exactly to apply this one. Who was the wise man? Who was the fool? Surely he was not calling upon Jollis to doubt the Inonni plans? That was the whole basis of his work. No, it had to be something else.

He headed out of the his quarters and found the Cohort he had brushed aside earlier. "I was unpardonably disrespectful to you earlier. I ask forgiveness."

The Cohort bowed his head. "It is forgotten, Wanderer."

"I will see what the Overlord wishes of me."

The young teen was restless, but the Overlord was not the cause. Ever the headstrong and inquisitive child, she was not as accepting of the old admonishments against misbehavior. She stopped believing in the dyrrgos well before puberty, thus the inherent fear was absent. She was far more afraid of making a bad impression.

She understood the reality. The Overlord was responsible for providing the land they cultivated, and her platinum brought steady prosperity for her village. While the brazen nudity of the Manor's slaves did repulse her, she thought she could get used to it.

She had just sat down again when the door opened. She leapt to her feet. Freya gave the young girl an appraising look.

She tried not to let the Overlord's shocking apparel distract her. She raised her eyes to Freya's and lifted her head. "Good day to you, esteemed Overlord," she said in a high, steady voice. "I am Fina. I was sent to you by the Maiden Elder Mianna."

Freya smiled and stepped forward. Fina's eyes widened at the unbridled sensuality with which the Overlord swung her hips in just those few short steps. "How old?"

Fina tilted her head. "I'm sorry, my Lady?"

"How old are you? How many years?"

"Oh! Fourteen, my Lady, since last season."

Freya's eyes swept the young woman's body in a very obvious manner. Fina clasped her hands before her and tried not to quiver.

The young girl was wrapped in a full-length frock. It was loose-fitting, but some of her maturing curves clung to the fabric at the hips and betrayed the round swells of her breasts. Her hair was quite lovely. Dark waves of deep brown hair flowed over shoulders and back. It was far more lustrous and clean than Freya remembered seeing on most peasants. It was obvious that the girl wanted to impress her.

"Please, sit down, Fina," said Freya.

Fina nodded once and sat heavily into a cushioned chair. She looked uneasy and out of place. She was not used to such luxury.

Freya casually crossed the room towards a set of cabinets over a long shelf. "So tell me, Fina. What do you think of the prospect of working in a Manor?"

Fina clasped her hands tightly in her lap to prevent herself from fidgeting. "I'm not sure what you mean, my Lady."

"Come now, surely you have some thoughts on the matter."

She watched Freya remove a goblet from one cabinet and place it on the counter. "Well ... I hope that I will be a good worker for you, my Lady, and that I will represent my village well."

Freya opened a second cabinet, paused, and turned towards the girl. "Is that all? No impressions of the place? Of me? Of the slaves?"

Fina was confused. She was not sure what the Overlord meant. Did she really want Fina to speak her true mind?

"I insist you tell me before we continue. And be honest. I value that very much."

"Well ... I ... your lifestyle is very different from that of my village, my Lady."

"No stalling. Answer me."

Fina sighed. "Very well, my Lady. I am a bit ... uncomfortable ... with the state of undress of all the young women here."

Freya smiled. "That's better." She turned back towards the cabinet and withdrew a gourd. "And what of their purpose? The fact that they are slaves trained to provide sexual gratification on demand?"

Fina blushed. Hearing such things talked about so openly was alien to her. In the village, many euphemisms were employed to speak of such things, and of the Overlord and her slaves.

Freya poured a rose-colored liquid from the gourd into the goblet. "Well?"

"It's not my place to comment on such matters, my Lady."

Freya put the gourd away and took the goblet in hand. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I know nothing of ... of matters of the flesh. It is not my time for such things."

"Ah." Freya stepped over to Fina. "You are a virgin."

Fina's blush deepened. Nor was that spoken of so brazenly. She simply nodded. Freya smiled and presented the goblet to Fina.

"Oh! Um ... no, my Lady, I do not partake of intoxicating drinks."

"It is not alcohol. It is a blend of fruit juices I am rather partial to. It is a custom of mine to offer such a thing to a guest. Please."

Fina did not want to violate any protocol. She took the goblet into her hands.

"Try it, if you would. I hope you will like it as much as I do."

Fina glanced into the depths of the deep red liquid before she raised it to her lips. The taste was dubious. It was too sweet, almost cloying, and clung to the sides like honey. As she swallowed, it left an odd bitter tang in its wake. Fina managed a faint smile. "It is quite fine, my Lady. Thank you."

"I am sure you will grow accustomed to life at the Manor. Perhaps you will even enjoy your time here."

"I will do my best to accommodate, my Lady. I only wish to do a good job." She took another sip of her drink. "Elder Mianna told me my tasks would involve gardening."

Freya chuckled. "Are you afraid I may have called you for something else?"

Fina's eyes widened at the implication, and her cheeks glowed once more. "N-not at all, my Lady. I apologize. I ... I am a bit nervous."

"In that case, please have more of the juice. It's supposed to soothe agitated nerves."

Fina nodded and took a few long swallows, tipping back the goblet. Freya's smile widened. "Rest assured, Fina, I intend to help you get settled in quite well. You will become another part of the Manor."

Fina lowered the goblet as she swallowed. "Oh, my Lady, I am not sure I would ever ... I w-would ever ..."

The young teen's hand shook. Juice splashed onto the floor.

Freya tilted her head. "Something the matter, Fina?"

Fina's eyes glazed. She stared at the goblet in confusion. She raised it to her lips again, stopped, and lowered it. "What ... what is this ... what am I drinking?"

"I believe I already told you that."

The goblet suddenly fell from her hand and hit the floor with dull clang. The remaining "juice" ran red over the stone. She jumped to her feet, eyes wide with fear. "I-I don't remember what you said ... what am I doing here now, I haven't ... wh-what's wrong with me?"

"Are you not feeling well, Fina?"

"I don't remember coming here. I wasn't supposed to leave until ... I ..." Fina blinked rapidly. She shook her head violently. "What am I doing here? You're ... you're Overlord Freya D'yros. Why would I be here with you?"

Freya looked on in fascination. So this was how the Draught worked. Memories unraveled backwards in time.

Fina became frantic. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "Th-this is not the village ... this is not my home ... this ... I can't ..."

Her words could barely keep up with the unwinding of her self. She saw herself as a girl just barely entering puberty, then as a child, then a haze of her earliest memories in her mother's arms was the only thing left.

And then it vanished like mist. With her memories gone, so was the person that was once called Fina.

She shuddered once. She turned to Freya, wide-eyed and innocent. Freya stepped quietly to her. She trembled, but did not pull away.

"I ... I can't remember ..." the girl said softly.

"Can't remember what, Frialla?" said Freya.

"Frialla?"

Freya gently cupped the confused girl's chin. "That's your name, sweet one. Frialla."

"But ... I can't remember ... why can't I remember anything? Please, help me. Please tell me what's going on."

"First thing's first, my dear. There is the matter of my name. You will call me Mistress Freya."

Frialla's eyes widened. "Mistress ... that's a title ... it means ... it means you tell me what to do? Is that it?"

Freya smiled. "You catch on very quick. Yes, that's exactly what it means. And you will use that title whenever you speak to me."

"Yes, of course, Mistress. What else? What else am I supposed to remember? Please, tell me."

"You don't need to remember anything. Not anything you might have known before. It doesn't matter."

Frialla struggled with a thought that would not come, as if thinking itself were more difficult for her. "Are you sure, Mistress?"

"Very sure. All that matters is what happens from this point on."

Thinking was too hard. It was easier to simply accept Freya's words. "All right, Mistress. What do you want me to do?"

"Remove your clothes, Frialla."

"Yes, Mistress."

Without any memory of her life, Frialla knew nothing of any reluctance to bare her body. The only thing that delayed her was finding the fastenings on her frock, and then the complex ties of her undergarments. She looked at each piece curiously, as if seeing it for the first time. She seemed glad to be rid of them as she dropped each piece to the floor.

Freya smiled in satisfaction at the girl's nude form. She was indeed as pretty as the Overlord had hoped. The thick tuft of hair around her sex would have to go, and Evella would need to remove the large birthmark on her thigh, but little more alteration was needed.

"Now what, Mistress?" said Frialla eagerly.

Freya opened another cabinet and withdrew its contents: a single slave collar, a long, thin chain, and a set of leather cuffs. She presented them to the girl. Frialla looked at the items without really understanding what they meant.

"Frialla, this is very important," Freya said. "I am about to make you my slave. Do you know what that is?"

Frialla looked thoughtful. The memories that had been excised from her mind were personal experiences and beliefs. Empirical memory, such as language and the meanings of words, were unaffected. They were simply shorn of any cultural or personal connotations.

"Yes, I think so, Mistress. It means someone that has to do as she's told all the time."

"Very good. Yes, that's correct. It's what you're about to become. My slave."

Frialla's eyes widened. "But ..."

"But what, my dear?"

"But ... is that right? Is that why I can't remember anything?"

"You are clever indeed. Exactly. A slave doesn't need memories. A slave only needs to do as she is told. She only needs to remember how to be a good slave. Should be easy now, hmm?"

Frialla nodded. "Yes. Yes, Mistress, I understand. What do I do?"

"Stand still with your hands behind you."

Frialla complied. Freya closed the collar around her neck and secured it with a tiny lock. She wrapped the restraints about the girl's wrists and attached the chain to the collar. She took the free end in her hand and gave it a snap.

"You are now my slave," Freya said. "You will do as you are told. I will take you now to your Trainer, who will teach you how to be a good slave."

"Yes, Mistress, of course."

"This ..." Freya snapped the chain again. " ... means I want you to do something. In this case ..." She snapped it again. " ... walk ahead of me and I will tell you where to go."

"Yes, Mistress."

The new slave fell into step before her Overlord. Freya smiled broadly, and her mind now raced with the possibilities that had just been opened to her.

In the best of times, Jollis disliked meeting with the Overlord. Now he truly loathed the experience.

He found the trappings with which Gronnus surrounded himself to be tawdry and fake. The Overlord made himself out to be a king among men, when in reality Jollis considered him no better than a court jester.

It had become worse in his absence. A small merchant clan had stopped at the Manor while Jollis was concluding the deal with Freya, and Gronnus had availed himself of some of his new-found wealth to acquire many expensive, tacky, and utterly useless adornments for his office and reception area.

Jollis suffered one of them just by the door to the office, a tapestry depicting several pretty maidens cavorting in a field. The colors were horribly off-balance, either glaring like the sun or dark as the night, a collection of hues better suited for a young child's finger-panting than anything a self-respecting artist would accomplish.

It was no better inside. The simple but practical lanterns had been replaced with shiny, ostentatious things that glittered with gemstones, placed upon it for no other reason than to give the viewer a false sense of the good financial fortune of its owner.

Even Gronnus himself was an assault to the senses, sporting a tunic of bright red-purple that made him look like an oversized doll.

"Ah, Jollis. So good of you to return," said Gronnus with a sardonic smile. "Finally."

"I was unavoidably detained," said Jollis curtly. He offered no further explanation, and he set his eyes such to suggest it would be foolish to pursue the issue further.

Gronnus appeared for a moment as if he intended to bluster his way into doing so, but he caught himself and frowned instead. "I trust you fared well with Freya?"

"Is that truly of your concern, Overlord?"

"Why would I not be? That infernal woman has more machinations going than the Emperor ever did!"

"It was you who wished to have little to do with her."

"That was before she got it in her head to get ideas above her station."

Despite his disdain, Jollis was curious. "Oh? And what would you consider to be above her station?"

Gronnus grinned humorlessly. "And I have to tell you that?"

Jollis remained silent and gave the Overlord an inquisitive look.

"Don't play that game with me, merchant. If that's what you really are."

Jollis smiled. "Ah, I see. This is simply a lead-up to attempt to wrangle some sort of deal from me by the use of threats."

Gronnus narrowed his eyes. "That is not what I ...!"

"Yes, it is, Overlord. I would hesitate to do such a thing if I were you."

"And why not? You need me as much as I need you."

"That can change if needed. And you have no basis for your threats. I have paid you well. I will continue to pay you well as you provide more slaves."

"But that is the problem!" Gronnus thundered. "You have already taken more than half of what I had. I will soon have no more to give at this rate."

"That is not my concern. An economy works by supply and demand, Overlord. I am demand in this case, and you are supply. Supply is your responsibility."

"Even if I activate my Portal again, I cannot claim enough Captives to keep up with demand. And you insist on well-traveled slaves anyway. You would force me to deal with other Overlords for continued supply!"

"Then do so."

"But that will drain my funds as fast as they come in!"

"Overlord, my apologies for my bluntness, but do you have a point? What does this have to do with Overlord Freya, who seemed to be the original topic of conversation?"

"Freya is up to something, Jollis. She wants to gain influence over the other Overlords. I want to know what kind of deals she has going on. I want to know what she's planning. And I am betting that you can help me in that regard."

Jollis tilted his head. "And how do you come to this conclusion?"

Gronnus drew himself up. "It is what I just said. You cannot play games with me. You cannot expect me to believe you are no more than just a merchant."

Jollis smiled. "Ah, but you assume that I was attempting to hide such a thing from you in the first place."

Gronnus was nonplussed enough by the merchant's response that he did not immediately reply.

"Oh, yes, Overlord, there is far more to me than what I appear. In fact, I will go so far as to inform you that I indeed have my own agenda. I am working to my own aims."

Gronnus struggled for words. Jollis' candor had surprised him. He needed a means to retake the initiative. "So ... so you admit it ... and you need to stay in my good graces, don't you? So you can continue to have a base of operations."

"Yours is convenient for the moment. Do not inflate your own importance in that regard."

"Y-you need me!" Gronnus sputtered.

"Needs can and will change, Overlord. You are a need of the moment. You have profited from that. When that need changes, we will part ways. It is as simple as that."

Gronnus swallowed. "Now ... now see here, Jollis ... we can work together. I am telling you, whatever Freya is doing is the key. If we can get in on that, we ..."

Jollis smiled again and shook his head. "First threats, now bait. I am uninterested in Freya's agenda. I am uninterested in the entire power structure of the Overlords. It is merely a convenience for me to play Overlords off one another."

Gronnus shook a finger at the merchant. "You cannot use the Overlords as pawns!"

"Ah, but is that not what you do? What Freya does? What all men in power do? This is no different. You are a hypocrite to believe otherwise."

Gronnus was speechless, and could only stare.

Jollis realized he was letting his temper get to him. But the stress of these last few moons was enormous. Gronnus was a constant thorn in his side. It was best he knew his place for the remainder of the Wanderer's stay at the Manor.

"This conversation is concluded, Overlord," said the merchant as he turned away. "I have business to conduct. You will continue to profit from it. Do not ask me again to do anything for you beyond that."

Gronnus' eyes shimmered. One hand clenched and unclenched. When Jollis reached the door, he called out in a shaky voice, "So tell me, so-called merchant! Are you ... are you part of that mysterious threat from the west the Emperor so often raved about? Was he right all along?"

Jollis turned towards the Overlord and considered before he responded. "If I were, Overlord, would it matter to you? Or is their platinum just as shiny and just as ..." He glanced at one of the lanterns and wrinkled his nose. " ... spendable as any you would find here?"

Gronnus had no reply, though it was obvious that his bluster had been tinged by fear.

Jollis bowed respectfully. "Good day to you, Overlord." He let himself out.

Rithas clasped his hands behind his back. His booted footfalls echoed through a chamber that was largely empty save for him and his sovereign. "All is in order, my Emperor. The Legions are fully supplied and refreshed. The southern border is secure. The commanders know the battle plan. All we await is your order."

Z'haas remained still, his hands planted on the edge of the great stone table as his predatory eyes narrowed and flickered over the detailed lines and markers upon the map. It was as if he had not even heard his Lord General speak.

Rithas let out a very tiny impatient sigh through his nose. "I have taken as much into account as possible, my Emperor. Intelligence from the south indicates that Duric's armies are indeed moving up into Carolas, but they will take time to organize themselves."

The Emperor's head jerked towards Rithas, and his eyes blazed. He turned to face his Lord General. "And will they not strike at us when we are on this jaunt to the north?"

Rithas had to answer carefully. He knew that it was likely that Duric would wait until what he thought was an opportune moment to strike at a weakened Imperial defense. He knew there was a risk. In fact, his plan was to give up a small measure of southern territory in order to secure a much stronger defensive line along several natural choke-points.

But it was likely that Z'haas would not understand the intricacies of such planning, and see only that that they would lose territory.

"My plan sees to this as well. I can assure you that we will give the enemy no chance to exploit weakness on our part simply because we will not show any weakness."

Rithas skirted the line with that statement. It was true as far as it went. He intended to have the southern Legions put on a good show of strength, even though their real orders were to retreat to defensive lines that were being built at his order, but without the Emperor's knowledge. Rithas may have been initially reluctant to take on this role, but his loyalty to the Empire was unwavering. He would do whatever it took to preserve it.

Z'haas looked dubious. He turned back to the map. "All I see is the bulk of our most stalwart forces moving away from the Imperium at a most critical time," he declared, folding his arms.

Rithas forced himself to remain patient. He doubted the Emperor knew anything about what forces were more "stalwart" than any other. "It is absolutely vital we secure either the north or the south, my Emperor. That will give you the edge in resources and men."

"If Duric's forces do not reach us first!"

"The only alternative is to turn south. Then we clash directly with Duric's forces. We will eventually prevail, but meanwhile the north increases in strength and hits us when we are exhausted and undersupplied. It is better to strike at the weaker north, secure it, and then prepare to meet Duric with maximum power."

Z'haas glared at Rithas, then returned to staring at the map.

Rithas was actually glad the Emperor was not a military strategist. He would not see the one troubling issue in his plans. Rithas was aware that attempting to advance further inland after securing the coastal areas would be problematic. The same choke-point strategy he intended to use against Duric to the south could be used effectively against the Imperial troops at the mountain passes.

Rithas was gambling that this would be the point in time that Duric would make his move. Rithas would secretly withdraw the equivalent of a full Legion of men from the north and use it to shore up the south, leading to a rout of Duric's attack. But again, he doubted he could get the Emperor to understand.

Z'haas finally let out a sigh. "I am still wary of this plan, Lord General, but I can think of no other means to advance the war."

"So you approve?"

"I approve of your plans, but I wish to have say as to when you commence your attack."

"I am not sure I understand, my Emperor. Everything is ready. We can move now. The men are inspired and morale is high."

"Yes, yes, I know," said the Emperor in annoyance. "But there has been another development. My Master Agent failed in his attempt to take out the foreign agent."

Rithas nodded slowly. He was only peripherally aware of this matter.

"You will wait until I have received word from him."

"I thought he had been killed."

"He is missing. But he is the best Master Agent I have had, and I wish to give him time to contact us. He may have valuable intelligence that I can pass on to you."

"Ah, I see. Yes, I would find any additional information to be helpful." Rithas was only placating the Emperor. He doubted there was any more useful intelligence to be had.

The Emperor started for the door. "I will inform you when I have heard from him."

"If you don't mind me asking, my Emperor, do you know how long that might be?"

"As long as it takes, Lord General."

"But, my Emperor, if he does not turn up after a given amount of time, should we not assume that ..."

"I will assume nothing. His information is potentially too valuable. He must be given every chance to reach us. I will accept nothing less."

The Emperor headed out, the heavy door thudding closed in his wake.

Mandas once more hurried down the wide corridor to the High Minister's office. The night that darkened the tall windows to near black was held back by the glowing torches and dazzling chandeliers. Yet it seemed to do little to brighten the Ambassador's disposition.

Mandas was dressed in his best finery, elegant flowing cloak of sapphire blue billowing behind him, his bright reddish-purple tunic spotless, the undershirt gleaming white. He had been pulled from an important social engagement he had been anticipating for nearly half a moon.

By the time he reached the door, he was out of breath. "Lord ... Ambassador Mandas ... to see ..."

"He is expecting you," said the guard abruptly.

Mandas blinked in surprise as the door was opened for him. The Ambassador swallowed and hurried inside.

The High Minister looked up. "It is about time."

"I got here as quickly as I could, Your Excellency!" said Mandas, his voice as much peevish as it was conciliatory. "I was in the middle of ..."

Erodon scowled. Mandas quieted at once. The High Minister regarded him, stood, and curled his lips into a deep frown. "I have been in audience with His Majesty nearly all day. He is not happy."

Mandas' eyes widened in panic. "Dear gods, Your Excellency, it is upset with me? Is that it?"

Erodon snorted. "You have far too great a belief in your own importance, Mandas. And, in my personal opinion, so does His Majesty."

Mandas stared. "I don't understand."

"You are to head back to the court of the Oceanus Emperor at once."

The Ambassador's face fell. "But why, Your Excellency? I am assuming you read my report on ..."

The High Minister waved a hand in annoyance. "It does not matter! What matters is you are to secure a treaty with Emperor Z'haas no matter what it takes."

"But, Your Excellency, Emperor Z'haas' demands are ludicrous. We cannot possibly meet them."

"No matter what it takes, Mandas! Those are orders directly from His Majesty."

"With all due respect to Your Excellency and His Majesty, I cannot make promises on behalf of the Urisi merchant clans."

"You will leave those details to the Council of Lords. They will handle the clans."

The last sense of all reason seemed to be sailing off the edge of the world, and it was carrying Mandas with it. "This is madness. That is, I mean ..."

"No, Mandas, you are right," said the High Minister in an unusually contrite voice, though his gaze was no less harsh. "It is indeed madness. As is the fact that His Majesty may authorize you to deal in war supplies to the Oceanus Emperor."

"Good gods, is the Urisi Nation to take sides in this internal dispute? Is he that worried about this foreign Portal technology?"

Erodon looked annoyed. He brushed away several parchment scrolls from the top of his desk, letting them drop and scatter on the floor in a rather uncharacteristic disregard for order. Underneath was a wide map of the world. He turned it around and slapped his hand against it.

"Brush up on your geography, Mandas! Oceanus' Far West is our Distant East!"

Mandas lowered his eyes to the map. Amanda would have recognized it as looking very much like a map of Earth in the continental arrangement. Only the political borders and names were different.

Oceanus straddled the east coast of North America westward to the Mississippi, the northern coast of South America, and most of the islands in the North Atlantic. Colos covered the rest of North America and the Hawaiian Islands. The Urisi Nation covered much of Europe, the British Isles, and the northern coast of Africa. Much of the kingdoms that the Urisi found themselves at odds with lay south of the Sahara Desert. The troublesome barbarians lay along the Ukraine east to the Ural Mountains.

But there was a swathe of territory with little detail recorded on the map. Very few locations were labeled in its interior, and many had question marks next to them. It covered what would be Japan, much of mainland China and Indonesia, and bits of coastal Australia. This was the Oceanus' Far West, and the Urisi Distant East.

"We have never had trouble with them before, have we?" Mandas asked.

"Nothing that we can prove. But if they are the force behind this foreign influence in Oceanus, to have them with any sort of control over Oceanus would be potentially disastrous to us."

Mandas nodded quickly. The problem of geography was obvious. If the Distant East decided to become belligerent, the Urisi would be forced to confront them on two fronts.

"Oceanus must remain independent," said the High Minister. "This is now of utmost importance to His Majesty."

Mandas straightened. He held his head aloft and adopted his more familiar, confident tone. "Then I feel compelled to state, Your Excellency, that it might be prudent to withdraw Ambassador Norlan at once."

Erodon raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"The Emperor believes the Overlords to be dealing with the Distant East. That would mean Norlan is indirectly supporting the enemy, would it not?"

"His Majesty has considered this and has decided to leave him in place for now."

Mandas looked crestfallen. "I don't see the logic in that, Your Excellency."

"It is not your place to question it. Suffice it to say that His Majesty has his reasons." The High Minister gave Mandas a pointed look. "And need I remind you that any treaty he devises in Oceanus needs to meet with my approval? And His Majesty's?"

Mandas slowly nodded. His lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah, yes, I see."

"Oh, very good. I was indeed hoping I did not have to paint a picture for you."

The Ambassador smiled. His spirits were too high to be affected by Erodon's barb.

The King was setting up Norlan for a fall. If he could be seen to be collaborating with the enemy, it would destroy his influence with the Council. Knowing how wily Norlan could be, he likely could talk himself out of being tried as a traitor, but his influence and likely his career would be finished.

It would not matter how lucrative a trade treaty he had managed to secure with the Overlords. Nothing short of purchasing every last slave in Oceanus for relatively little platinum and no restrictions on their use would sway the Council to overlook his "treason."

"I will prepare to leave at once," said the Ambassador in a bright voice.

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