Doran stared for a long moment, then finally lowered the goblet. "Preposterous!"

Roquan calmly folded his hands before him. "My Healer is more qualified to correct this flaw. My knowledge of the Draught extends only as far as ..."

Doran waved his arm in the air. "I don't mean that! I mean the premise itself!"

Roquan raised an eyebrow. "That the Draught is flawed?"

"And what did you base this ludicrous idea on if your knowledge of the Draught is so limited?"

Roquan frowned. "I did not state ... never mind. Vanlo brought this to my attention originally."

"Yes, as I thought."

"And why is this a problem?"

"Because you are treating that man as if he were an avatar of the gods themselves!"

Roquan's gaze grew cool. "I will remind you it was he that saved Amanda's life."

"Yes, I am well aware of that. That makes him an excellent Healer, but it does not make him an expert in matters of the Draught, which is knowledge that he should not have had in the first place."

"Oh, really, Doran, I have had quite enough of this nonsense from you. Yes, nonsense. It was you of all people that said that things were changing in Oceanus, that many of the old rules did not apply ..."

"But that is not sanction to gut them entirely!"

Roquan fell silent, more curious than upset at the sudden vehemence of his cohort's position.

Doran let out a gusty sigh and shook his head, turning away from Roquan and taking a step away from him. "The very idea that the Draught could damage the mind ..."

"Why is it such a foolish notion? You are of a similar mindset to me, Doran. You prefer intelligence in a slave. Have you not been disappointed in the past that a slave turned out to be less intelligent than you had thought?"

"Well, yes, of course. But that is circumstantial! The original assessment is based on the one that brought the Captive. No Overlord has seen one before the Draught is given because the act of Portal transfer renders the Captive unconscious. How can Vanlo possibly know ..."

"One of Vanlo's specialties is chemistry. He is perhaps best of all Healers in Oceanus in that regard."

"Oh, now, hang on, that is a bold claim!"

"It is merited by the evidence. It was he who concluded that Yarra was a native Narlassi instead of an outworlder slave based upon analysis of her blood. It was he who determined Jollis was the one responsible for the loss of his Portal sense. It was he who created a restorative for Amanda when she had lost so much blood, and did it in a fraction of the time a lesser Healer would have done."

Doran looked flustered, as if Roquan had suddenly stolen the initiative from him. "Assuming that I were to accept that, that still gives you no right to just hand over the formula."

Roquan frowned. "You have not heard a word I have said. He could have derived the formula himself. What I gave him was merely a formality."

"That is not the point!" Doran shouted.

"Then what is the point? There is nothing that says an Overlord cannot improve upon the Draught. How do you think we came up with the additive that increases sexual receptiveness?"

"Without a Healer's help, I wager!"

"Fine. So we do it your way. We wait another three or four generations of Overlords before we finally get one that has some knowledge of chemistry and actually wishes to improve rather than simply parrot a formula handed down on yellowed parchments that are as worn and tired as our own traditions. Until then, we can refuse to innovate and continue to stagnate. We can wallow in our elitist attitudes that we simply have and are the best, and that nothing else can ever hope to surpass either. Yes, let us just sit on our hands and do nothing. Perhaps we should have adopted that attitude at the Conclave, and let the Emperor decide how we should conduct our affairs."

Doran held up a hand, intending to wave it dismissively. Instead, he paused, then raised the other and turned it into a gesture of submission. "Enough."

Roquan's eyes blazed. "No, it not enough. What will be enough is for you to tell me what is it that has you this upset. You have been angry at me before for violations of protocol. You have claimed each of those to be so terrible, but you moved on once I make my case. You have never impugned the skills of my Healer before. What is it this time?"

Doran had to pause to collect his thoughts. Roquan's speech had made more of an impact on him than he had cared to admit. He heard a little of his own oratory prowess in Roquan's words and was impressed.

He turned his gaze to Roquan. The anger was gone, but his expression was no less grave. "I am upset because your little jaunt is threatening to unravel things with the other Overlords."

Roquan's brow wrinkled. "How is that possible? They know nothing of this."

"Oh, but they do now."

Roquan looked surprised. "I beg your pardon?"

Doran glowered. "I received a Farview this morning. From the Healer Guild Elders. Apparently they are quite nervous about what your Healer may be doing. They have been asking the other Overlords if they knew anything about some effort among us to improve the Draught!"

Roquan's eyes darkened. "I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't! You rarely consider the repercussions of your ..."

"Reprimand me later. What of this? What is the Healer Guild saying to the other Overlords?"

"Consider yourself lucky for the time being!" boomed Doran with a wag of his finger. "There are two things working in your favor. First, they have not mentioned that you have let your Healer in on this venture, and second, they are just as concerned -- if not more so -- about what Freya is doing."

Roquan's eyebrows rose. "They are concerned about Freya still?"

Doran nodded. "Yes, quite a bit. I managed to wheedle a statement out of the Healer Elder that suggested they may cut Freya off from the herbs her Healer has been requesting."

"Doran, you should be much more gravely concerned about Freya's machinations than my own," said Roquan. "I have only the slaves' best interests at heart. I cannot imagine that Freya could claim the same."

Doran trudged to the cabinet and fetched a gourd of wine. "It's not like she needs to alter the damned thing any further," he muttered as he splashed red wine into his goblet. "Not with how her slaves are already practically mindless as it is."

"It is about time you admitted you feel the same way."

"Yes, and probably because I have been influenced too much by you," Doran declared, brandishing his goblet and spilling a drop or two onto the floor.

Roquan allowed himself a very small smile. "I trust you claimed ignorance of my activities."

"Oh, yes. We'll see how much they believe it. But you can expect the other Overlords to be chatting this up quite soon. You better have a good story ready."

Roquan considered. "Perhaps the truth is in order."

Doran scowled. "Not until you have that treaty signed. Then you can use it to cushion the blow. Speaking of which, is that Norlan back yet?"

"He arrived late yesterday. I was to meet with him today."

Doran took a long drink of his wine, then nodded. "Good, good."

"First I must meet with Uridon, as his clan arrived soon after Norlan. I need to arrange for his clan's pleasures this evening." Roquan turned away and headed towards the door.

"Well, don't take too long with that. The sooner you meet with Norlan, the better. With luck, we'll get this done. Then you could claim you intend not to Draught any Captive ever again and they will just think of you as the eccentric maverick that no one wants to talk about."

Roquan stopped at the door and turned to face his friend. "And they do not already?"

Doran actually laughed. "Perhaps. But I would appreciate you not giving them more reason to think as such!"

Roquan smiled. "I will attempt such in the future."

Doran drained the rest of his wine and regarded Roquan with wry amusement. "Somehow, I doubt you will succeed."

The woman that lay upon the treatment table was one of Roquan's older and most experienced slaves. Yet even with all her experience, this once a moon ritual overwhelmed her senses until she floated in an endless ocean of pure sexual bliss.

Her curly brown hair lay in disarray about her head as she panted heavily from between slightly parted lips. Her knees lay to either side, thighs spread wide and quivering with the soaring pleasure that radiated from her pussy in relentless and overpowering waves.

"That's it, Amanda," said Lanno, his lips curled into a wide smile. "You've got the outside done. Now work your fingers inward."

Amanda gave just a tiny nod of her head, her eyes never leaving her work. Her fingers lay pressed against the slave's folds. Both her hand and the slave's pussy glistened brightly with Kaylaxxa salve. Amanda's eyes flicked towards the slave's face as she curled her fingers and eased two of them into the slave's tunnel.

The slave gasped and arched her back. Her pussy clenched around Amanda's fingers, then let go as another orgasm swept over her. Her breathing became a staccato pant.

"Did she tighten up on you?" Lanno asked, stepping closer.

"For a moment, yes," Amanda said without looking up.

"That generally happens with older slaves, since they're just so used to doing that during sex. It becomes almost reflex. Here, give me your other hand."

Amanda lifted her free hand and let Lanno grasp it. He guided it to a spot above the slave's delta.

"Press your fingers here ... a little more to the left ... right there ... okay, now go."

Amanda nodded and eased her fingers forward. They slipped in easily. There was another gasp and another soft cry as the slave's pussy again strained and crested.

"Don't be shy about it, Amanda," Lanno said. "Really go in deep and hard. You won't hurt her, not as excited as she is and as slippery as the Kaylaxxa is."

Amanda hesitated before finally shoving her fingers in as far as they would go. The slave's head lolled to one side as the sensations cascaded into a single, rolling climax. She let go of any remaining coherent thought and let herself be carried away on a wave of sexual bliss, her lips slowly curling into a smile.

Amanda's eyes widened. "Is she ...?"

"Keep going. And keep the pressure up on that point so she doesn't clench on you again."

Amanda never thought she would be on the giving end of this treatment. Kaylaxxa was a hygienic salve that killed pathogens in the genital tract. It was a required regular treatment for all slaves. To make it pleasant for the slave -- and to encourage him or her to seek the treatment -- the Kaylaxxa was infused with other herbs that made the genitals hypersensitive.

First impressions are lasting ones, and the one Amanda had for Kaylaxxa had been a bad one. The Imperial spy pretending to be a slave had administered it to her and had purposely used a concentrated dose to render her incoherent. Until the effect had faded, even breathing too deeply would trigger another orgasm.

Since then her treatments were normal and never overwhelmed her as much. But she was wary each time she submitted to it. Though now she wondered how she would react to her next one, which would likely be dispensed by Lanno, given that she had established such a rapport with him.

"Very good, Amanda," Lanno said. "Almost done. Angle your fingers down a bit ... now to the sides ... a little more firm there ..."

Amanda was not used to seeing a slave simply accept the treatment and give into the pleasure so completely. It was almost as if the slave welcomed being mindless for a short while. The idea sent a chill down her spine.

"And ... done!" Lanno declared.

Amanda gratefully withdrew her fingers with a squelching sound. The slave gasped, strained, and shuddered as she went over once more.

Lanno handed Amanda a towel. Amanda nodded gratefully, letting out a sigh of relief as she stepped back. She looked at the slave as she wiped her hands. The slave's smile had widened, and her eyes were closed. She let out a low "mmmm ..." sound.

"She'll be fine," Lanno said with a grin, placing a hand on Amanda's shoulder. "You did that very well."

"That's going to take some getting used to, Master," said Amanda. She used Lanno's title whenever other slaves were around. Vanlo had requested that of her, since it would be bad form otherwise.

"Is it? You didn't seem too unhappy with doing it."

Amanda tilted her head. "And how would you know that, Master?" she asked, half in curiosity and half in challenge.

Lanno grinned. Amanda uttered a soft gasp, and her hips jerked. There was a faint wet sound, and a low, sultry sigh from Amanda's lips. She swallowed and barely resisted the urge to swing her hips forward.

Lanno withdrew and lifted his hand. Two of his fingers glistened with Amanda's moisture.

Amanda's eyes grew defiant, though more teasing than hostile. "Maybe I was thinking of something else at the time," she said loftily.

Lanno's grin widened. "Oh? And what would that be?"

One corner of her mouth curled. "Maybe I was thinking of you."

"Really? I excite you that much, hmm?"

Amanda's eyes gleamed. "Maybe."

"And maybe you're just looking forward to when I get to give you your treatment next."

Amanda was surprised to find that she greeted this with no trepidation whatsoever. There was even a hint of anticipation. She gave him a mischievous smile and said softly, "And maybe you don't need that to make me cum that much."

Now it was Lanno's turn to be surprised, and he felt his manhood stir in response to her flirtations. Amanda's eyes flicked downward. She giggled softly.

"Oh, now, that's hardly fair," Lanno said with a smirk. "You ..."

"AHEM."

Both Amanda and Lanno looked towards the entrance to the back room. Vanlo stood in the doorway, tapping his fingers against the frame.

"Yes, well ..." said Lanno awkwardly. He turned back to Amanda and took a step back, hiding his damp fingers behind him. "Well done, Amanda. That was very good for your first go at this."

"Thank you, Master," said Amanda.

"Amanda, I need to see you for a moment, if you would," said Vanlo.

Amanda glanced at him, looking for a moment like the child having been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She nodded once and handed the towel to Lanno before trotting over to the older Healer.

Vanlo shepherded Amanda to the counter that held his apparatus. Next to it, three bottles were lined up. Each one had a liquid in it in different shades of reddish-gold.

"Now, then ..." Vanlo began.

"I'm sorry, Master Vanlo," said Amanda in a low voice.

Vanlo paused. "Sorry for what, Amanda?"

"For ... " Amanda paused. "Aren't you going to be upset with me for what I was doing with Lanno?"

"Ah, that. Hmm. Yes, well, where I am well past the age to experience such pleasures, I don't believe I can count myself knowledgeable enough to dictate what you can or cannot do." He stroked his beard. "But I suppose I should ask for a little more discretion."

Amanda nodded, relieved that she had not angered him. "Yes, Master Vanlo. Sorry about that."

Vanlo smiled. "I must admit, it does become hard to consider you a slave sometimes. Perhaps after the current crisis is over, his Lordship would see his way clear to relaxing some of the protocol in your case."

Encouraged, Amanda smiled and nodded quickly. She held her tongue as to her further thoughts. She wanted to see it relaxed for other slaves as well.

"Now, the reason I called you in here, Amanda, is this." He gestured towards the flasks. "From this point on, when you clean out the flasks from my failed attempts, you need to use protective gloves. Some of these contain herbs that can be absorbed through the skin."

Amanda looked alarmed. "Failed attempts? But I thought ..."

Vanlo held up a hand and smiled. "Do not fear, Amanda. Yes, these are failed attempts, but a totally different type of failure. This type actually gets me closer to the goal. Each one you see is a little better than the last."

Amanda nodded. "How much longer do you think it will take you, Master?"

"Hmm. That I cannot say. But at least now I do feel I will eventually reach the goal."

"And do you think you can make something that will fix slaves that have already had the Draught?"

Vanlo looked thoughtful. "Now that I know that the effects of the Draught are not permanent changes, it is quite possible. But ... I am in a quandary as to how to select one on which to test it. There is more inherent risk with using this on the already Draughted."

"I'm not sure I understand, Master."

"It is a matter of volition, Amanda. If we were speaking of one that has not had the Draught, I could simply ask that person if he or she wishes to incur the risk. I would be assured of receiving an answer that was based on the person's own choice. I cannot be assured of this with a slave. Do you see why?"

Amanda sighed. "Yes, I do. You're not sure whether or not she's agreeing because she really thought about it and accepted the risk, or she's doing it because she's a slave and she's expected to do as she's told."

"Precisely."

"But ... but if you could find a slave that was more intelligent? That maybe could really think about it?"

Vanlo scratched his chin. "Did you have someone in mind, Amanda?"

"Well ... Master Roquan always said that he thought Sirinna was one of his most intelligent slaves."

Vanlo nodded. He knew that Amanda would suggest her. He doubted that Amanda's thinking was purely logical, but she was correct. Sirinna was the smartest after Amanda, but Vanlo was not sure it would be good enough for him.

But if not Sirinna, then who? "I will consider it, Amanda," Vanlo said.

Amanda smiled.

Now Vanlo feared he had done it again, that he had given Amanda false hope. He would have to discuss this with the Overlord at length.

As he allowed his temporary slave to dress him, Ambassador Norlan pondered his next move.

He had not gleaned quite as much information from the merchant as he had hoped. It was good that he had all but confirmed that Jollis was a foreign merchant, and possibly a foreign agent as well. It was clear that Jollis had his own agenda. What was not yet clear was whether he would be open to any sort of deal.

Norlan lifted his arms to allow the slave to slip on his tunic. He shrugged his shoulders into it and watched as the slave straightened and secured it with aplomb.

He let a sigh escape his lips. It was also very clear that Roquan would continue to be unyielding on this one point. The issue over the sex seals was a deal-breaker. It was one concession he could not make.

The slave picked up his boots, presenting them to Norlan for his approval. The Ambassador examined them with a critical eye. The leather shined. He nodded once in approval and sat down. The slave dropped to her knees to apply the boots to his feet.

What he really needed was a way to contact Jollis. Perhaps simply the idea that the Urisi could track him down would make him think twice about moving against them, and thus he would be more open to a deal.

After the slave put on his first boot, there was a sharp knock at the door. "Enter."

The door opened and a lithe man slipped inside. He was brought up short when he saw the nubile maiden at the Ambassador's feet. "Oh! Beggin' yer pardon, my Lord ..."

Norlan's head snapped around. He had expected the Overlord to be standing there. Instead, it was a young man wearing the colors of the Ne'land merchant clan. "Yes, what is it?"

The young man's gaze was distracted for a moment by the slave. The slave noticed his attention and smiled pleasantly. The man offered a weak smile in return.

"Ahem. You came here for something?"

The merchant blinked and look at Norlan as if only now realizing he was there. "Oh, um, yes, my Lord. I have something for you."

"For me? I did not order anything from the merchants."

"I am a courier, my Lord. I have already been paid to give you this."

He pulled a hand from his pocket and opened it. Perched upon his palm was a blue pearl.

Norlan raised an eyebrow. "One moment."

He waited until the slave had put on his other boot. He stood and turned. The slave draped his cloak around his shoulders. Norlan yanked the ties into place, waving away the slave's attempt to do them. The slave folded her hands demurely before her and stood off to the side.

The merchant stepped forward. "It is a Farviewing pearl, my Lord."

Norlan was about to take it when he paused. "Oh? And to whom is it linked?"

"Overlord Freya D'yros, my Lord."

"The name means nothing to me."

"She wishes you to contact her, my Lord."

Norlan nodded and took the proffered pearl. "Very well, I will summon her at my earliest convenience."

"Um ... my Lord, I was told to ask you to Farview her now and then retrieve the pearl from you. It is to go to Overlord Roquan D'ronstaq."

Norlan thought this curious, to say the least. "Wait outside." He turned to the slave. "You as well."

The slave looked a bit nonplussed at the order, but she bowed her head respectfully and exited with the merchant.

That was another rather significant difference between Oceanus and the Urisi Nation. Oceanus Overlords trusted their slaves to remain in the room when sensitive matters were discussed. This was not so for the Urisi. Slave loyalty was not as implicit.

Norlan placed the pearl by the hearth and waved a hand over it. It began to glow brightly. Not long after he stepped back, Freya's image shimmered into view.

"Lord Ambassador Norlan of the Urisi, I presume?" said Freya's image.

Norlan did not make any obvious note of either the Overlord's brazen manner of dress, or the very casual and almost sultry tone to her voice. "I am. You are Overlord Freya D'yros?"

She nodded once and smiled. "Ambassador, I have some information for you that may make your negotiations with Roquan go a little more smoothly."

Norlan recognized the situation at once. One member of a social caste was attempting to elevate herself above another of the same caste. It was unlikely she had any interest in the treaty itself but what it could do for her personally. And that was generally the type of person who was worth the time of day in any negotiation.

"Go on," said Norlan. "I'm listening."

"Roquan! It is good to see you again!" boomed Uridon Ne'land as he grasped the Overlord's hand and pumped it vigorously. His eyes and mouth crinkled at the edges as he smiled, though there was a tired look to his face despite his exuberance.

Roquan clasped Uridon's shoulder with his free hand. "The sentiment is mutual, Uridon."

"I regret that our clan has not made it to your Manor before now," the heavyset merchant clan leader said as he stepped to the other side of his tent. He picked up two ornate glasses filled with deep amber liquid and handed one to Roquan. "But things have been rather dicey lately in Oceanus, to say the least."

"Have the clans been harassed by Imperials?"

Uridon paused to take a sip of his brandy. "Not yet. Not extensively, anyway. Just the usual stops at the borders between Imperial and Noble lands looking for contraband." He snorted. "An insult! The Guild pledged from the start not to trade war supplies to either side."

"Yet from what I hear, the merchants have been playing favorites." There was no admonishment in the Overlord's voice.

Uridon glowered. "Yes, well, there is that ..."

"Is there a problem?"

"The Guild Hall is not happy with that situation. All the clans have taken it upon themselves to restrict their dealings with the Emperor."

"It seems that the clans have the fortitude that the Guild Hall lacks."

"To say the least! But mark my words, the Guild Hall will look the other way. Thanks to me, they've seen the light about the missing merchants. They believe as we do, that Z'haas was behind that."

"I suspect it is working, Uridon," said Roquan. "I have heard word that the Emperor's attempt to secure a trade agreement with the Urisi has fallen through because of unreasonable demands on his part."

"Hah!" Uridon barked. "And I can guess what the Emperor asked the Urisi to do. He probably wanted their merchants to handle all trade. Not damn likely!"

Roquan clasped Uridon's shoulder again. "Your efforts have done much. You should be proud to be on the right side in this struggle."

Uridon took a deep drink of his brandy. His eyes were clouded with both sadness and the additional alcohol he had consumed before the Overlord's arrival. "Most of my reasons are personal, Roquan. There is little that is noble in that."

"I am still sorry for your loss, despite what he had tried to do."

Uridon waved a hand dismissively. "It is the past. There is no point in dwelling upon it," he said in a strained voice. He took a deep breath and let it go to steady himself. "Now, I have something for you." Uridon pulled out his closed fist from his pocket. "Hold out your hand if you would, Roquan."

Roquan warily extended his hand. Uridon slapped his fist into it and opened it. A blue pearl dropped into Roquan's hand.

By the time Uridon had pulled his hand away, Roquan had felt the tingling of the binding magic in the pearl. Roquan recognized it at once and looked up. "A Farviewing pearl?"

"Ordered by Overlord Doran D'jorus, now bound to you. So give that to him if you would, since I understand he is a guest at your Manor."

Roquan nodded and put the pearl into his pocket. "Thank you."

"One of the merchants has one from another Overlord, but one already bound. It is to replace one of yours."

"I do not recall having any trouble with my own pearls."

"The magic on them does fade even without use. It may be an old one you have not used for some time. Anyway, if you would let me know what supplies your Manor needs, we are fully stocked at the moment. We should have anything you require."

"Thank you, Uridon. And all my slaves are available for your pleasure this evening."

Uridon smiled. "Even Sirinna?"

Roquan returned it with a faint smile of his own. "Yes, even Sirinna. You and your clan have more than earned it."

Norlan considered his fortunes.

A Draughtless slave! It was an intriguing concept. And a scandalous one. In Urisi, all captives were supposed to have their equivalent of the Draught, and it was considered bad form to intentionally avoid it.

Despite this policy, however, Draughtless slaves were often sought by "serious" slaveowners, and they always fetched a very high price at auction. Indeed, the only reason more slavemasters did not skip the Draught in new captives was to keep the supply of this commodity artificially low and prices high.

Trade in Draughtless slaves was officially condemned but secretly encouraged. The former was well known outside of Urisi's borders. The latter was not. Yet this Overlord compounded his sin by using that same slave as a spy. That was far more damning given what he knew of Oceanus slave traditions.

He sensed Freya was more interested in what it could do for her rather than what it could do for him. It was unlikely she knew of the value of a Draughtless slave in Urisi. That made his act of using this information of utmost importance to her.

"This is all well and good, Overlord," said Norlan diplomatically. "But perhaps I am not as interested in using internal Overlord politics merely to obtain a better deal."

Freya smirked. "Come now, Ambassador. You cannot tell me that the Urisi are not looking for you to open this market any way you can. I am offering you something that will virtually guarantee you a way to close this deal on your terms."

"And what is to say that Roquan will not simply deny it all?"

"Oh, I am sure he will. But you can rest assured that it is the truth."

"So you say."

Freya's eyes flashed anger. "Fine. Then I suggest you see for yourself. Ask for Amanda and put her through her paces. It will be obvious to you that she is Draughtless."

"I will take this under advisement, Overlord. Now, if you will excuse me ..."

He moved to end the Farview. "Ambassador! Wait one moment, please." Freya cried out.

Norlan drew back and smiled.

Freya gave him her own wry grin. "Oh, very good, Ambassador. All right. What do you want? Platinum? Slaves? Or ... " She tilted her hips. "Sex?"

Norlan chuckled. "You would offer your body to me?"

"Do not laugh. Ambassador. There are many men that would take such a thing from me in a moment for some small favor or reward."

"Oh, I am sure there are, but to arrange such a thing would be inconvenient at best. And as for slaves, you have already stated you may have a lucrative offer to make later. No, I wish information from you."

"Information? And what is it you wish to know?"

"I wish to know a means to contact a merchant named Jollis."

Freya's eyes narrowed. "And why would you wish such a thing?"

Freya's response told Norlan that he had struck platinum. "Now, now, there are some secrets I simply must keep. Again, if this is important to you, you will tell me how to reach him."

Freya frowned. "Only if I have your word you will do no deal with him that would put Roquan in a good light."

Norlan shook his head. "My business with him does not concern Roquan or any other Overlord."

"Very well. Here is what I know ..."

After several abortive attempts to strike up a conversation with the slave -- the last of which ended in an amused giggle from the girl -- the merchant simply thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Finally, the Ambassador appeared at the door and called the slave inside. He handed the pearl to the merchant. "I trust you know not to inform the Overlord of my use of this pearl?"

The merchant considered asking the Ambassador how much that was worth to him, but he had already been well paid by Mage Q'yros to keep that information quiet. As tempting as it was to squeeze a little more platinum out of the deal, merchants were supposed to be honest, so he refrained. "Of course, my Lord. No problem."

"Good. Inform Roquan I will be with him shortly."

"Right you are, my Lord."

The merchant continued on his way. It did not take long before he spotted the object of his search on the path, coming directly towards him. "Excuse me, my Lord!"

"Yes, what is it?" said Roquan. "I am rather busy this morning, so this needs to be short."

"Ah, but it is, your Lordship." He extracted the pearl. "This is for you."

Roquan nodded and extended his hand. "Yes, I was told by Uridon there was another Farviewing pearl for me. Who is this from?"

"Overlord Freya D'yros, my Lord," said the merchant as he dropped the pearl into Roquan's hand.

Roquan very nearly yanked his hand away. He frowned and tried to use his rudimentary magic senses on the pearl. He sensed nothing amiss. "And why would she send me a new pearl?"

"She thinks the old one's worn out, my Lord. Least that's what I was told."

"Where I hardly have any intention of contacting that woman, I fail to see why a replacement is necessary."

The merchant shrugged. "I only know I was paid to deliver that to you."

Roquan sighed and closed his hand around the pearl. "Very well. Is that all you require of me?"

"That's all. Oh, and Ambassador Norlan said he'd get with you in a bit."

Roquan frowned. "Very well." He turned on his heel and headed back to his quarters.

The merchant relaxed. His magic senses were more sharply tuned than the Overlord's. Where merchants needed the ability to detect when goods may be more dangerous to transport than their owners had let on, this was a valuable skill to develop. He had sensed the odd bit of extra magic on the pearl that the Overlord had not. He had feared that Roquan would refuse the pearl, and the merchant would be out a commission.

But all was well with his own little world. He was admittedly curious about the extra magic on the pearl, but it was none of his business, really. He didn't even think it important enough to report to Uridon.

Amanda was in good spirits again, so much so that she was able to focus her complete attention once more during that afternoon's training. Which was fortunate, as this particular task took all her concentration just to hold her own.

That was all she could do. Her partner was simply too good at this, even more so than Sirinna. Where she was hovering at the aching edge of orgasm, little whimpers of increasing distress escaping through her nose, she barely seemed to get a rise from her partner no matter how furiously she licked or how hard she sucked.

She felt another spike in the pleasure from her sex. Amanda nearly stopped ministering to the slave under her. She clenched her muscles as much as she could without hurting herself. It did not feel like it was going to be enough this time. Her thighs quivered around the head of her partner.

As if sensing her moment of weakness, her partner clamped her lips against her pussy and licked wildly. Amanda couldn't hold out any longer. She let go with a loud cry as her pussy throbbed.

"Very good, Amanda!" she heard Sirinna call out. "Much longer that time!"

Panting, Amanda crawled from her partner. Her partner abruptly arched her back and let out a shrill moan. Her knees fell to the sides, and her head tilted back as she came.

Amanda looked on in surprise. "I got you that close?" she asked when her partner calmed down.

Still panting, her partner nodded quickly. "Yes ... very close ... a-almost lost it ..."

Amanda slowly smiled. Sirinna extended a hand and helped Amanda to her feet. "She's very good at not letting on how close she is. You just have to keep going as far as you can."

Amanda nodded distractedly. "Mistress, what's the purpose of this? Is a client going to ask me to do this with her?"

"Probably not. It's more to teach discipline and self control." Sirinna smiled. "And it gives something for the other slaves to bet on."

Amanda blinked. "Bet on?"

"Oh yes, that sort of thing goes on all the time."

"But slaves don't have platinum."

"They wager on sexual favors, of course."

Amanda glanced around. Many of the slaves were clustered in groups of two or three, talking amongst themselves. Occasionally, one would put her arm around the other and lead her away from the Circle.

"Um ... I hope no one lost big on me," Amanda said.

Sirinna draped an arm around Amanda's shoulders. "If they did, I'm sure they'll have a better chance of wining next time."

"Mistress, how much more training is left for me? How much longer will I need to keep coming here in the afternoons?"

"Is there something wrong?" Sirinna asked tentatively.

"Well, no, Mistress, it's fine," she said quickly. "It's just ... well ... I've really been enjoying what I'm doing for Master Vanlo. I'd love to just do that all day."

Sirinna stroked Amanda's hair, warm to the the touch in the afternoon sun. "I understand."

Amanda looked surprised. "You do?"

"Yes. A bit. I mean ... I know you want more than normal slave duties. And ... and I think I can see why you like it."

"Are you sure you really understand? You're not just saying this because it would make me happy?"

Sirinna shifted her hand to Amanda's shoulder and squeezed affectionately. "You're doing something for Master Vanlo. It's not really slave duty, but it makes him happy. And it makes you happy as well. Slaves should make others happy and should feel happy in their service. So ... this is good thing you're doing. For both of you."

Amanda nodded slowly. Sirinna did understand, but she didn't. She was still trying to place it into her own context. It was like she was stuck in between somewhere.

But it was something. It was enough of a radical departure from Sirinna's normal thinking that Amanda now understood what has been happening. Her lover was breaking out of the Draught-imposed intelligent degradation. It was happening on its own. That was proof that Vanlo was on the right track.

Amanda smiled and hugged Sirinna fiercely. "Thank you," she whispered.

Sirinna hugged Amanda back, nonplussed. "For what, love?"

"Just for being you. For being what you are now. For the way you keep trying."

Sirinna did not understand what Amanda meant. But rather than insist on an explanation, she simply accepted it. She had a sense that it was something good, that it was something about which she should feel joy, but it was still too vague for her to grasp.

"There's some more I want to do with you this afternoon, Amanda," Sirinna finally said, gently breaking off the embrace. "We should get to it."

Amanda beamed and nodded. "Of course, Mistress."

Roquan stood in stunned silence at the Ambassador's accusation. Or at least it was an accusation to his ears, no matter how diplomatically it had been delivered.

Doran rushed into the silence, both physically and verbally. He stepped quickly between the two men and faced Norlan with a polite smile. "So it seems you have been keeping your ear to the ground, have you? Very wise indeed, yes! But, if I may, I would like to help you separate rumor from fact."

"Oh, and is this just a rumor?" said Norlan with a small smile. He took a sip of his wine, eyes never breaking contact with Doran's.

Doran did not flinch at the scrutiny. He seemed to welcome it, giving Norlan a level gaze right back. "Yes, rumor, Lord Ambassador. Surely you have encountered such things at court back home. A means of stirring up trouble against someone popular in the aristocracy."

"Ah, yes, there is that, but I have heard some compelling arguments spoken on this particular point."

"Yes, I am sure you have. But those that seek to oppose those in power will use whatever words they ..."

Roquan suddenly shoved Doran to one side. Doran was so astonished that he stumbled and nearly fell. "Enough of this nonsense!" Roquan thundered. "This is just another distraction, another attempt to delay negotiations, another attempt to gain favor in this treaty by underhanded means."

"Roquan!" Doran hissed through clenched teeth.

Roquan's eyes blazed. "Shut up." Roquan glared at the Ambassador, who looked placidly back. "It is very clear, Ambassador, that you are doing this simply to avoid having to actually commit to anything. I have been pressing you for the past half moon to concede on the matter of the sex seals. Instead of giving me a decision, you keep finding new ways to disrupt these negotiations. Your accusation, regardless of its veracity, has no business being discussed!"

"Roquan, that is quite enough!" Doran declared.

"Do not attempt to silence me any further, I will not have it. These negotiations have been entrusted to me and no one else. I will decide how to conduct them."

Doran's lips twisted into a scowl. His eyes burned as they stared into Roquan's icy gaze. Finally, he turned his back to his friend and stalked to the other side of the room.

Roquan turned his attention back to the Ambassador, who still regarded them both with relative equanimity.

"I demand a decision from you now, Ambassador," said Roquan. "On the matter of the sex seals, will you concede on this point, or will you continue to advance more petty reasons to avoid doing so?"

Ambassador Norlan took one last sip of his wine and set the goblet down. When he looked back at Roquan, there was an edge of cool steel to his eyes despite the diplomacy in his voice. "I am quite sorry to see you do not see the merits of these issues in our negotiations. But I feel they are quite important."

"And how is this possible?"

Norlan smiled. "Negotiating a treaty is not just about arguing point-for-point, my dear Overlord. It goes much deeper than that. It is a sort of sizing-up of your potential trade partner. See what drives him. What matters to him. How far he will go to get what he wants."

Roquan's chest swelled as if in need to display for a rival. "And somehow you feel this tells you something about me?"

"Do you deny this rumor then?"

"Of course he does!" Doran shouted. "Why would he not? It is a preposterous ..."

"What I deny, Lord Ambassador, is its relevance in these discussions," said Roquan over Doran's words.

"As you would deny that sending a slave to spy on others is also irrelevant?" asked Norlan placidly.

"That's enough," Doran said. "No more. It is obvious you have been speaking to the wrong people!"

"Ambassador, get to the point," said Roquan. "State your intentions with this information and what bearing it has on these negotiations, or drop it and let us move on."

Norlan paused, more to let the tension build for a bit longer.

He was very good at reading others' reactions. As he had come to know Roquan, he had pegged the Overlord as someone firm in his convictions that he was right, and that believed he had a clear vision for the way things should be, even if it flew in the face of convention. Such a quality could be considered commendable in another context.

But when it came to negotiating a treaty and putting the best face possible to the world, it was a severe detriment. It came off as overconfidence and self-righteousness, and destroyed his ability to negotiate properly. Norlan now had a good reason to believe that Freya's accusations had merit. He could see this Overlord having done such things, convinced that he would be proven right in the end.

"It is very important that this treaty be forged," said Norlan carefully. "It is very important to the Urisi. And it is even more important to you. If this endeavor fails, it might cause this 'rumor' to get out of control, especially if the other Overlords believed it to be the cause of the failure."

Roquan bristled, his eyes like ice. "That sounds distinctly like a threat, Ambassador."

"No, not a threat, Overlord. Political reality. It would not be I that would tell them such. Your political enemies would see to that."

"Yes, and you would conveniently happen to agree with that assessment if asked!" roared Doran.

"I would have to tell them the truth, yes. And to my own government. I have no choice. The penalties for lying to His Majesty are quite harsh."

"This is disgusting," Roquan sneered. "That you would stoop to this simply to avoid conceding on one point of the treaty. Perhaps I do not care. Perhaps I believe that the other Overlords have sufficient faith in me to reject this attempt to besmirch me."

Doran's eyes widened as he stared at Roquan. Even as upset as he was at Norlan's tactics, he knew it was too great a risk. If this treaty did fail, the other Overlords would be calling for blood, regardless of these revelations.

Norlan clasped his hands behind his back. "Do you really wish to put that to a test, Overlord?"

Doran continued his imploring look. Roquan acknowledged it only with a flick of his eyes but nothing more.

Norlan sensed that the Overlords were very close to conceding. But he needed to extend his stay just a little bit longer to give him time to track down Jollis. "I wish to offer a proposal, Overlord."

Doran's head turned towards the Ambassador. Roquan's eyes hardened.

"I confess I am rather intrigued now about the whole matter. I wish to see for myself. Give me this Amanda as my slave for the remainder of my stay here."

"No," said Roquan.

Doran spoke over him. "For what purpose, Ambassador?"

"If she truly is Draughtless, I would be most interested to see how she differs from your other slaves. How it affects her demeanor, her reactions."

"And what if she is not?" demanded Doran. "Perhaps you would only see just another slave! Perhaps there is nothing at all different about her!"

"Amanda is not available," Roquan said tersely. "It is out of the question."

"Why, Overlord? You offered me the use of any of your slaves whatsoever. I wish this one. I will satisfy my curiosity and no longer trouble you with this matter."

Doran's eyes shifted from Roquan to Norlan and back again. "And your stand on the sex seals?" asked Roquan.

"That will depend on what I glean from your Draughtless slave. Ah, excuse me ..." he added when Doran glowered at him. "Allegedly Draughtless slave."

Doran frowned. "This is a fishing expedition! You're just looking for more to use against Roquan."

"And you expect I would find such things were I to engage this slave?"

Doran clenched his teeth. "That is not what I meant."

"I must agree with Doran, Ambassador," said Roquan. "What is it you expect to find?"

Norlan slowly smiled. "Perhaps that a Draughtless slave is not such a bad thing. I may even be willing to purchase her from you as part of the ..."

"Absolutely not," Roquan replied as soon as the word "purchase" had escaped Norlan's lips.

"Even if I were to concede completely on the sex seals in return?"

Doran's eyebrows rose. Roquan's nostrils flared. "She is not for sale."

Doran opened his mouth. Roquan cast a steel-eyed gaze upon him. "She is not for sale," Roquan repeated in a deadly voice.

Doran reluctantly nodded and heaved a sigh as he said, "Yes, Roquan is correct. She is not for sale."

Norlan glanced at the two of them, then headed towards the door. "I must take my leave of you for now, Overlords, as this has been a tiring morning for me. I will contact you later as to your decision. Good day to you."

Neither Overlord said a word until the Ambassador had departed. Then Doran scowled and turned to Roquan. "Forget what I said before! You cannot give in to him on this point!"

"And what choice do I have?" snapped Roquan. "Face it, Doran, he is right. The other Overlords will indeed turn against me if they believe this to be the cause of the failure of the treaty."

"Blazing hellfire, Roquan! Letting him have Amanda will only prove the point. You know she cannot act as a normal slave!"

"I know that, and I am not going to ask her to do so. I cannot hide that from him, Doran."

"You can refuse him. Don't let Amanda near him."

"And then word gets back to Freya, and she will make the other Overlords doubt my word even further. If she can get enough Overlords to wonder why I refused him access to Amanda, then they will begin to suspect."

"And how does giving Amanda to him help?"

"I am hoping that the Ambassador will keep his word. He will no longer bring up this point, and we will not need to worry about it getting back to the other Overlords."

Doran glowered. "He is manipulating us. Using our own politics against us."

"This is a rather pleasant change, Doran, to hear you use some of my own arguments. So it is I now that is the practical one of the two of us?"

Doran looked at Roquan in surprise, then made a face. "Well, at least it means some of my common sense rubbed off on you at last!"

"Perhaps not all. You would have advocated the political expediency of selling Amanda to the Urisi to remove the evidence."

Doran looked uneasy. "Yes, well ... old habits die hard." He still believed it would have been the right thing to do, but he knew he would have felt guilty about it. Of all the things from Roquan, what he had not wanted was his cohort's inappropriate affection and protectiveness of one particular slave.

"The truth about Amanda will come out eventually, Doran. And if that is to be the case, I want to reveal it in my own way, and not at the dictates of circumstance, a political enemy, or a foreign power."

Doran frowned. "And you would intend to tell them about using Amanda as a spy?"

"Perhaps. In due time. After the crisis is over. Well over."

Doran nodded. "I would much prefer you wait until I am cozily retired. Or better: dead!"

Roquan clasped Doran's shoulder. "We will get through this, one way or another. It is just another step towards the end of Z'haas' reign."

"I fear that will not happen until I am dead as well."

"No, Doran, we will see him deposed from the throne. I am sure of it."

Doran cast a tired gaze at his fellow Overlord. "It cannot come soon enough for me, Roquan. Not soon enough at all."

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