"I accept the summons from my most esteemed and wise Master."

Master Kyllos shimmered into view.

Jollis hesitated perhaps a half-breath when he saw his mentor's grave face. Yet he bowed perfectly as protocol demanded. "Your humble apprentice is here to serve."

Kyllos hesitated. This was something he never did. Jollis was alert at once that something was seriously wrong.

"Wanderer," said the elder in a firm voice. "I must assume that you know nothing of what has happened. I hope this is the case, for I would prefer to take you to task for that."

Jollis hid his growing anxiety and presented only a calm demeanor. "What is it, Master? Does it concern the slaves I last sent to you?"

Jollis could see the anger in his eyes, even over the Farview. What had he done? Had he let mission stray too far despite the multiple assurances that his Master trusted him to make the right decisions? Had it been a test after all, and had he just failed?

"Yes, it concerns them. Surely you see why many of them are ... unsuitable for our purposes."

"That was at Overlord Freya's insistence, Master. I explained this to the Cohorts that facilitated the transport. I knew they would not be tenable because of their lack of experience."

"And is that all you thought? Is that the only reason for their unsuitability?"

Jollis paused. He searched his mind. "Yes, Master, that is the only reason."

Kyllos' expression softened. "Then you truly do not know what makes them different from the others besides their lack of experience?"

Jollis looked perplexed. "Is there something else?"

Kyllos let out a relieved breath. "Yes, my Wanderer, there is, and as concerned as I am that you did not know, it is nowhere near as powerful as my anger would be had you known and delivered them to me regardless."

Jollis bowed. "I humbly apologize once more for failing to remain in command of the situation. I make no excuses. Please enlighten me, so that I may make immediate reparations."

"The inexperienced slaves that were sent to us are Narlassi."

It was as if a thunderbolt had struck Jollis mute.

Kyllos nodded. "It does indeed appear that you were unaware of this."

"With ... with all due respect, my most esteemed Master," began Jollis in a halting voice. "These slaves obviously had the Draught of Forgetfulness applied to them. They cannot be Narlassi. Perhaps an error has been made ... by someone with very good intentions."

Jollis realized halfway through his words that his Master may have made this assessment. He hoped he had not insulted Kyllos too badly if that were the case.

"They are Draughted. And they are Narlassi," said Kyllos in a definitive tone.

Jollis uttered a quick sigh of frustration. "Yes, Master, of course. But I am thus confounded. The Draught can be given only during Portal-shock."

"I would suggest, then, that someone has determined a means of changing the Draught such that this is no longer a requirement."

"But, Master, that is impossible. It would require an advance that ..."

Jollis trailed off. Kyllos looked at his apprentice inquisitively, but his eyes betrayed that he knew Jollis understood where he had erred.

Jollis had made the mistake of falling back on the same assumption that had already been proven wrong. He had assumed that Oceanus would make no significant technological progress while his plans were in motion. He had already miscalculated once with regard to the Mages.

But from the Overlords? They were too mired in their own political squabbles to even contemplate innovation, let alone one of which the Inonni had not conceived.

And yet, had he been thinking clearly, he would have realized the incongruity of Freya acquiring so many new slaves in so short a time. She would have had to have as many Trainers as she had new Captives, all dispatched at once and returning their charges as one. Even so, it would take a day to power the Portal, bring someone back with a Captive, and then reset it for the next world.

Jollis bowed deeply. "I am most ashamed of this failure. I beg forgiveness and a suitable punishment."

"Punishments will need to wait, my Wanderer, as I want nothing to distract you further from your task," said Kyllos. "It will be considered later, but I am sure it will still pale in comparison to all that you have accomplished to this point."

Jollis straightened. "I cannot waver or falter now, Master. I cannot afford to make mistakes."

"Enough. We will cease to discuss it. Let us return to the matter at hand and its mitigation."

Jollis nodded once. "It is obvious, Master. Overlord Freya must be stopped."

"Agreed. Do you wish an assassin?"

Jollis considered carefully. He had already made one mistake, he was not about to make another. "I fear this may not solve the entire problem. While Overlords traditionally handle their own Draughts, I do not believe Freya has the skill needed to make this sort of change."

"Who would?"

"Most likely it would be a Healer, Master."

"Is not chemistry a dying craft in Oceanus?"

"Yes. But consider that the Healer Vanlo was an accomplished chemist. Other than very basic instruction from the Guild, he must be self-taught. Thus it is possible that another has done the same and is working for Overlord Freya."

His Master nodded. "Yes, that would make sense. Do you wish to eliminate both of them?"

Jollis looked uneasy. "Master ... I do not wish to kill again. Not in this manner."

"Your reluctance does you well, Wanderer, and it is a joy to see that this task has not hardened your heart or shaken your convictions. And you dislike asking the Cohorts to do the same. That is why I offered to send you one."

"I fail to make myself clear, Master, forgive me. I wish to avoid killing. This war will make enough death. We do not need to contribute to it."

Kyllos folded his hands before him and sighed. "No one more than I wishes to avoid spilling more blood. Far more has been shed than we wished. But what to do?"

"Allow me to make contact with Freya's healer," said Jollis. "I can interrogate her and discover if she has revealed the formula to anyone else. If she has, then it will be obvious that eliminating either of them would be moot. The knowledge is already out."

"And if she has not?"

"Then I will remove her capacity and the Overlord's to inform anyone else. I will use the Healer's own formula upon them and remove their memories."

"That is risky. If another Healer were to discover that these memories are merely suppressed ..."

"By then, our plans will be complete and it will not matter. We will control the dissemination of any such information."

"This assumes that our plans will be fruitful soon."

Jollis hesitated. "Were the experienced slaves as yet inadequate, Master?"

"With what we have accumulated so far, we can reach a little more than one third of of the Noble Lord houses, and much of that is in the northern lands."

"And there are signs that the Emperor is about to march in that direction."

"It will be chaos and more blood, Jollis. We cannot launch our invasion into that."

The plan had seemed deceptively simple from the start. Enough slaves to allow capture of the Noble Lord palaces, the merchants to keep war with the Imperial legions short, and a quick end to prevent interference from the navy before a new Inonni-controlled Emperor was on the throne.

To drag this out further would be to risk direct engagement with the navy. Transporting entire warships by Portal was a daunting task even for the Inonni. It was largely academic, as it had never been done. Thus time would be short once it had begun. Any lengthy campaign would quickly jeopardize their chance of success.

"I can force Freya to give up the rest of her slaves to me," suggested Jollis.

"If you can be sure to sway her with whatever arguments or threats you would utilize," said Kyllos. "If you could be assured that all her slaves would provide enough coverage. If we could then launch our invasion before the other Overlords found out what has happened to Freya."

"More variables in the equation," Jollis muttered softly. "I have no answers for you, Master. I am sorry. Perhaps another may."

Kyllos shook his head. "As I have said before, there is no other. There is only you and me. I will think on this hard, my Wanderer, but I expect you to do so as well."

"But, Master, I do not believe that any amount of thought on this will ..."

"When faced with odds against, it is the fool that admits defeat at the start, while the wise man at least makes the attempt," intoned Kyllos. "Do not be the fool, Jollis. You have never been in the past. Do not start now."

Jollis' pride swelled at what he considered high praise. "I will do my best, Master."

Kyllos smiled. "You always do. Good fortune to you, Jollis." He lifted a hand. His image faded from sight.

And then, in that moment, the words that had so perplexed Jollis from their last conversation made more sense to him: the best plans come from the mind of the wise man, but it is the fool that accepts them without question.

It did refer to the Inonni plans after all, but not the goal. That was his error. He had equated the two. The goal was inviolate. But how he attained it was subject to change.

Yet what sort of change could he do this late and still succeed? That was the difficult part. And, as yet, he had no ideas.

Commander Rol stared at the large map draped over the table as the Lord General looked on. Neither men said a word. The side of the tent flapped in the cold wind. Occasionally the tent shuddered and the lamplight danced against a stronger gust.

Rol finally looked up. "There is no way the Emperor will approve of this."

Rithas nodded. "Which is why I am not going to ask his approval."

"I am not sure you can do that."

Rithas sighed, looking bored. "Once more, Commander: are you going to report me to the Emperor?"

"With all due respect, my Lord, I wish you would stop throwing that in my face each time."

"Then please cease that constant refrain about what the Emperor would or would not like. That is my responsibility, not yours."

"But, Lord General, please be reasonable ..."

"Do you wish this campaign to succeed? I mean the original one, and not this debacle that the Emperor insists we do?"

Rol's face hardened. "I do, Lord General. You know that."

"Then this is the way we will do it." He swept an arm over the map. "We have three legions ready to launch an incursion according to the original plans. We commit two of those to the new plan, a thrust northward through Talrad Pass. The other legion will be held where it is, then joined by a second, and we launch the original incursion."

"My Lord, that will stretch our supplies. We planned for three legions to be engaged, not four."

"The Emperor tells me we are very close to securing a trade agreement with the Urisi for more war supplies. I plan to hold back the second thrust until I know for sure that the treaty has been signed."

"But still, my Lord, will it not take time for those supplies to ..."

"I am not expecting enough resistance to seriously exhaust our supplies, Commander," said Rithas, voice edging into impatience. "Talrad Pass will bog us down a bit, but not seriously. The intent is to get that part of the campaign over with as quickly as possible to meet the Emperor's goal, and then we can concentrate all our efforts on the remaining plan."

Rol sighed and shook his head. "Very well. But you will need an extremely competent Commander for the Talrad Pass thrust. That is tricky terrain. Perhaps you should field-promote one of my underlings that served in the valley. I can recommend ..."

Rithas shook his head. "I already know who I wish to command those legions."

Rol looked inquisitively at his Lord General until he realized what the answer to his unspoken question was. "My Lord, I ... but ... Lord General, I protest!"

"Are you saying you're not qualified to take on Talrad Pass?"

"Yes, I ... no!"

"Then I fail to see your objection to this assignment."

When Rol spoke again, it was in measured words in a tone of forced civility. "My Lord, with all due respect, this is not fair towards me. I have been involved in the planning for the original incursion for some time, and I wish to follow it through. I beg of you to reconsider."

Rithas knew the real reason. Rol did not see the Talrad Pass thrust as glamorous as the original invasion plan. But Rithas knew that the pass could give them trouble, and where Rol had proven himself well in a similar bottleneck, he was the obvious choice.

"I am sorry, Commander, but my decision is final," said Rithas, turning away. He began to roll up the map. "Consider this an incentive to get the battle won as quickly as possible. Once you get past Talrad, you will have a clear run to the D'yoran Manor."

"This is insane, my Lord."

Rithas paused and looked at him. "Yes, isn't it?"

"My Lord, there is one more thing that concerns me. Your inclusion of the fourth legion will weaken our defenses against Duric's army. I am assuming you will not be informing the Emperor of that decision, either."

"No, and it took a great deal of platinum in order to secure that legion commander's silence."

"That was my other worry," said Rol in earnest. "The Emperor considers those legions sacrosanct, and they are utterly loyal to him. All it would take would be one word from them and ..."

"I am aware of this, hence the gift of the platinum."

Rol fell silent, but it was clear he was not mollified in the slightest.

Rithas finished tying the rolled-up map with a ribbon and set it aside. He placed a hand on the Commander's shoulder. "Stop worrying about things better left to me. I am well aware of all the consequences of my actions."

"I simply do not wish to lose you as a Lord General. I doubt that the Emperor could find someone better."

Rithas smiled faintly. "I appreciate the show of support. But it is better expressed as devotion to your new assignment."

Rol gave Rithas a sour look, but clasped his hand around Rithas' arm. "Very well. Assuming that this wind does not bring rain with it, I can have the men marching by dawn the day after tomorrow."

Rithas withdrew his hand. "Good. The Emperor is continually harping on me to begin this campaign. This will placate him for the time being."

The Commander turned away and headed towards the tent entrance.

"I'm going to be counting on you, Commander," said Rithas. "Make this campaign quick and decisive."

"I intend to, Lord General," said Rol without looking back. "So I can join the real war and actually make a difference."

Rithas watched him leave, the wind briefly swirling into the tent and blowing strands of hair before his eyes.

It was not just Rol that needed to make the campaign swift. Rithas needed to the do the same, and with two-thirds the forces he had before. He hoped that Rol will be past Talrad Pass and mopping up by the time he set out.

If not, things could get interesting if Duric's forces arrived at the Imperium during the incursion. Then the Lord General would have a monumental decision to make.

Evella shivered as she stepped into the cold and misty air. The breeze wrapped her meager robe about her legs as rain spit from a leaden sky. One hand clutched a scroll to her breast.

She ducked her head and trotted towards the Overlord's quarters. When the rain fell more in earnest, she tucked the scroll under her robe, shuddering as cold air briefly touched bare skin. By the time she reached Freya's door, she was panting both from exertion and anxiety. She knocked urgently upon the door.

"Enter."

Evella stepped inside, then came to an immediate halt as the door swatted her rear as it tried to close behind her.

Two very young slaves lay in the center of the chamber upon plush cushions, entwined in mutual sexual pleasure. Their soft moans and pants had merged into a single rolling wave of lust. The wanton eagerness with which they licked at each other's moist sex was almost as shocking to Evella as their appearance. Standing nearby was an older woman that Evella recognized as one of the Overlord's Trainers.

Evella realized she should be accustomed to such displays, but these helpless, sex-addicted girls were her own handiwork. When she thought of the demure and upright young ladies they had been, she shuddered in revulsion at what she had helped them become.

"Do you like them?" came a husky voice.

Evella flinched, as if forgetting the Overlord were in the room. Freya lay upon her bed, her dress above her waist, a finger slowly teasing her womanhood. She gave Evella a sultry smile that elicited another shudder. "I decided to keep these two."

"What?" Evella said vaguely, her eyes wide.

Freya smiled. "Keep them. As in make them my personal slaves. Besides providing me with entertainment, I can use them to quell Mianna's fears if she insists on seeing some of the girls she provided me."

Evella swallowed hard. Her heart ached for the Maiden Elder. Mianna must already suspect something but was powerless to bring any direct accusation against the Overlord.

"Was there something you wished of me, or did you want to watch as well?"

"No! I mean, n-no I don't want to watch ... I-I'll come back later when you're not busy ..."

Evella started to turn away.

"Stop," Freya called out firmly.

Evella's hand was on the door. She hesitated before turning around. Freya withdrew her hand from her sex but made no effort to cover herself. "You wished something of me, Evella. What is it?"

Evella gathered her courage. She finally stepped away from the door and carefully edged around the two slaves. She reached into her robe and pulled out the scroll, which she presented to Freya. As Freya hesitantly received it, Evella said, "This is the new Draught formula, Mistress. I thought you would want it, since Overlords traditionally mix such a thing."

Freya chuckled as she set the scroll aside. "Such formality and attention to protocol. I suppose I should compliment you on that. Was there anything else?"

"Yes ... Um ... Now that I've done this for you, I ... I think I would like to move on."

Freya's lips curled into an amused grin. "Hmm? Move on?"

Evella's heart thumped. "Yes. You took me on to change the Draught for you. I've done that. I-I think I would like to request another assignment from the Guild Hall. I'm just ... I'm just not suited for Manor duties."

Freya looked thoughtful, though still amused. She pulled her feet towards herself and gestured to the foot of her bed. "Evella, have a seat."

Evella's eyes widened. She wanted to refuse, but knew she could not jeopardize what little chance she had. She sat demurely on the edge of the bed.

Freya's smile widened. She gestured to her Trainer without taking her eyes from the Healer. The Trainer dutifully stepped over to her Mistress and folded her hands before her.

"You only believe yourself not suited for Manor duties, my dear Evella," Freya said. "And that is, regrettably, my fault."

Evella stared. "Your fault?"

"Yes. I have not properly rewarded you for your service to me. I have been very remiss."

"I-I don't really need any reward, Mistress, I ..."

"Oh, but I think you do." Freya looked up at her Trainer. "Do the honors for our esteemed Healer."

"Yes, Mistress, I would be happy to," said the Trainer with a smile.

Evella had no idea what the Overlord intended, even as the Trainer knelt before her. It was only when the Trainer's hands attempted to gently coax her legs apart that she understood.

Evella clamped her legs shut. She tried to bolt to her feet, but Freya had already slid next to her and placed her hands heavily on the Healer's shoulders. Evella fell back into her seat, panting in fear.

"You will sit still, Evella," Freya whispered hotly into the young woman's ear. "You will not struggle or fight. You'll be a good little girl for me."

Evella whimpered and trembled.

Freya nodded to her Trainer. The woman smiled again and parted Evella's knees, meeting only token resistance. Evella let out another pitiful whimper as her robe was lifted and her sex helplessly exposed.

Evella closed her eyes. Her body jerked when she felt the first touch of the woman's tongue upon her intimate region.

Her stomach lurched. Her folds were dry and unresponsive. But the Trainer was extremely skilled. Very slowly, her body responded. Heat gathered in her loins, and each stroke of the Trainer's tongue met increasingly slick and sensitized flesh.

Evella shuddered and panted lightly, moaning in despair. Suddenly she flinched again as Freya's hand alighted on her waist. The sash on her robe was undone, and her breasts bared. The Overlord's hand cupped one of the soft orbs.

"Uhhn, n-no, please ..." Evella begged in a badly quavering voice.

Freya played with Evella's breast until the nipple grew taut. She stroked the nipple and made Evella shiver.

"The slaves need someone to practice on, my dear," Freya whispered into Evella's ear. "My Healer always eagerly fills that role. Perhaps once you see the merits of it, you'll change your mind about staying."

"P-please, no, stop," Evella begged, her eyes glistening. "Please, I-I can't ... I ..."

Freya drew back and called out to her slaves still lounging on the furs. Having sated one another, they nevertheless eagerly rose and approached. Freya stood. "Attend to her breasts."

A slave sat down on either side of Evella. The Healer continued to utter her desperate protests. They fell on deaf ears, and soon each had one of Evella's nipples in her mouth.

"Uhhn! ... gods ... s-stop ... oh gods ..." Evella cried, half in anguish and half in overwhelming pleasure.

Freya smiled. "A bit sexually repressed, are you?"

Evella could not answer. Her body was fully aroused. Her nipples tingled madly. Her pussy was hot and slick. The wave of pleasure crashing over her was drowning out all coherent thought until she ached for release.

"I thought this might help you," said the Overlord. A mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes. "Well, that and a little of the sexual enhancement herb from the Draught that I have been slipping to you the past few days. Just a tiny amount, not enough for you to notice until someone actually attempted to arouse you."

Evella opened her mouth, but instead of a cry of despair or protest, she let out a shrill cry as her pussy throbbed.

"Make her cum about four more times," Freya told her slaves. "Then let her go back to her quarters and see how long it takes before she'll want more, now that the drug has been fully activated."

"N-no ... p-please, no ..." Evella gasped, even as her body shivered in anticipation.

"Oh, stop it, Evella. Be glad that I did not use the entire Draught on you. I still need you as my Healer. I am going to be far too busy making deals and destroying Roquan to have time to make Draughts. So get used to this, and get used to staying right here at my Manor." She grinned, cruel and amused. "Have fun."

She waved and headed out.

Evella moaned as the slaves gently pulled her from the bed and onto the floor. One of the younger slaves slipped between Evella's legs and began licking in earnest.

Evella let out a lusty moan. A single tear trickled out of the corner of her eye.

"An invasion?" Q'yros cried, aghast.

Uroddus adjusted his spectacles. "That is what my fellow Empiricists believe is the most likely use of these Portals, from the information we have. It was the choice with the greatest probability."

The elder Mage frowned. "Probability? What are you talking about?"

"We first brainstormed a list of possible uses by a foreign power for this enhanced Portal, then compared this to what we know or suspect has occurred that can be traced to the foreign power. We then calculated the chance that each choice is the possible solution." He consulted the parchment he held in his hands. "And for invasion, the calculated chance was seventy-two point three percent."

Q'yros frowned. "Only seventy-two?"

"Consider that the choice right after that one came in at only eight-point-two percent and, yes, that is considered statistically significant."

"Blast the numbers! What is your reasoning?"

"Simple. Opening a Portal in this manner is the perfect means by which to transport soldiers directly into sensitive areas that would need to be secured for an invasion to be successful. Or for sending scouts to more accurately map an area and obtain intelligence. You will note that there have been reported disappearances of merchants scattered over Oceanus ever since the first foreign Portals were detected."

The older Mage nodded. "Yes, all right, I see. Merchants would know the roads and the sea lanes. They could help them send agents into Oceanus without our knowledge."

"Exactly. Or small contingents of soldiers to secure a key road junction, or place magical traps or explosives along common routes used by legions rushing to meet an invasion."

"Do you realize what you are suggesting?" Q'yros exclaimed. "With Oceanus already embroiled in civil war, they could cause even more havoc! They could conquer the Empire!"

Uroddus slipped off his spectacles. "It is likely not quite that dire yet. There is no indication that this foreign power has the ability to open larger Portals and keep them stable for a long time."

"The Overlords managed it," said Q'yros sourly. "Or do I need to remind you how Duric transported his forces practically to the Emperor's doorstep?"

"Yes, but it required a tremendous effort and ignoring margins of safety. It is something you might do once or twice, but not a sustained effort. The point is that the enemy is limited to transporting small numbers of soldiers and arms at a time. Which means they would not be the invasion force itself, but would only herald it by perpetrating a mass wave of sabotage and other disruption."

"That would be quite enough!" Q'yros declared.

"But it would be a warning. And the enemy needs to actually encroach on our territory by traditional approaches of land or sea. This would require them to march or sail through the territory of another power. It is likely we would see them coming even before their agents acted within Oceanus, giving us time to warn others."

The elder Mage looked intensely thoughtful. Q'yros was sure there was something that Uroddus was missing. Empiricists tended to focus on their facts and figures and ignored common sense and intuition.

"Tell me something, Q'garra," said Q'yros, folding his hands placidly over the end of his staff. "Say you did wish to use these Portals alone to conduct your conquest. How would you do it?"

"Master Q'yros, I already stated that the Portals cannot be held open adequately enough to ..."

Q'yros waved a hand in dismissal. "I am aware of that. Work within that limitation. Assume you have all the other resources you would need."

The Journeyman considered for a long moment. He shook his head, looking perplexed.

Q'yros smiled in satisfaction. "Do you know how the power structure in Oceanus works?"

Uroddus fiddled with his spectacles. "I fear I must confess to a lack of information in this area, Master Q'yros."

"There are thee main sources of power in Oceanus, my dear Q'garra. The Emperor, the Noble Lords, and the Overlords."

"Well, I understand that much," said Uroddus. "But we can exclude the Overlords. They do not command men in battle."

"Correct. Who does? Or rather, who is supposed to?"

"I am unsure. The Emperor?"

Q'yros shook his head. "Not traditionally. Unless the threat is imminent and there is little time, the Emperor is supposed to turn to the Nobility when war is to be made. Then the Noble Lords raise men-at-arms and command then in battle under the Emperor's banner. In fact, it was a dispute over this that led to the predicament Oceanus is in now."

"Yes, I understand that much. But I still do not see how this would ..."

"Men are not loyal to ideals or causes, Q'garra," said Q'yros firmly. "Get that romantic notion out of your head now. They are loyal to whoever is paying them for their services. This is why palace coups are almost always successful. Save for a loyal cadre of guards, the Noble Lord cannot call on his armies to protect him in time before there is a new Lord on the throne. And the armies will follow the new Lord so long as he keeps paying them for their services."

Uroddus nodded, looking thoughtful and troubled.

"Now address the original problem I put to you. How would you go about conquering Oceanus using only Portals?"

Uroddus already had an answer. "By kidnapping enough people that knew the inside of each Noble Lord Palace. Then it would be a simple matter of transporting a small contingent of troops to each Palace and initiating a coup."

Q'yros nodded gravely. "Yes, exactly."

Uroddus frowned. "But Master Q'yros, if you are suggesting that this enemy is planning such a thing, it would require a great many people from across the face of Oceanus. The enemy would need to take people that are very active in each Lord's court. Such disappearances would be of note if they occurred at such a prodigious rate. There have been no such reports. Merchants rarely reach that far into a Palace to allow them to be used for such a purpose."

"I realize that, Q'garra, but this possibility nags at me. It fits too well with the Emperor's most dire predictions."

"With all due respect, perhaps that alone is reason to discredit it."

Q'yros narrowed his eyes. "The Emperor is a barbarian pretending to lead a nation. But his suspicions of a foreign influence have proven correct."

"Nevertheless, it seems implausible to me, and would require as much effort, if not more, than a traditional invasion would."

Q'yros nodded slowly. "I can only hope that you are right about that."

And yet, he still thought that there was something he had missed.

The Farview image of the High Minister glowered menacingly in the confines of Mandas' quarters.

"The Oceanus Emperor will have what he wants," said Erodon, forcing each word from his mouth. His nose wrinkled as if his very statement had somehow left a bad odor in its wake.

"Your Excellency, I am ... most stunned to hear this."

"Do not be!" the High Minister thundered. "Anything can be purchased with enough platinum, I am sorry to say!"

"If I may ask, Your Excellency, how much did it take?"

"His Majesty did not disclose that information, and from his mood after the meeting with the merchant Clan Leaders was concluded, I did not dare ask."

The Ambassador's eyes widened. If it had upset the King so, with as full as the Urisi coffers were, the amount truly must have been insane.

"Suffice it to say, Mandas, that this must be the worst trade treaty that will disgrace my desk. I would never approve such an atrocious insult to our intelligence, but His Majesty forces my hand!"

"We all do what we need to, Your Excellency."

Erodon frowned. "Do not patronize me, Mandas."

The Ambassador's head bobbled. "My apologies, Your Excellency."

The High Minister sighed. "I understand why we need to do this, but I cannot help but think that there must have been a better way. So, Mandas, have you acquired any more information? Perhaps something that will save us from having to implement this travesty laughingly referred to as a trade treaty?"

"Nothing as yet, Your Excellency, but I do have a contact I will be, ah, meeting with this evening."

Mandas tried not to smile too broadly. He had been looking forward to this ever since the midday meal when Nehmat had dropped the hint that he had more information for the Ambassador.

Mandas ardently hoped it would be delivered in the same manner. Naturally, with the guards listening in on all conversations in the Palace, Nehmat could only hint at it. He simply made a casual suggestion that Mandas might wish to visit the baths that night one last time.

Erodon narrowed his eyes. "Why are you smirking, Mandas?"

Mandas blinked and cleared his throat, attempting to wear a more serious expression. "Ah, no reason, Your Excellency."

"Hrm. I sincerely doubt that. Simply be careful and make sure your wife does not learn of your indiscretions."

Mandas' cheeks flamed. "We, um, have an arrangement, Your Excellency," he said stiffly.

"Yes, I've heard that before, at least until one or the other actually attempts to invoke the 'arrangement.'"

"I assure you, Your Excellency, this is all in the best interest of the Urisi Nation."

"I have heard that before as well. No matter. We need leverage, Mandas, something to throw in the face of the Oceanus Emperor when it comes time to dissolve this treaty, or something that will allow us to counter this threat for them and obviate the need for the treaty."

Mandas' eyes widened. "Your Excellency, is His Majesty considering direct interference to deal with this supposed threat?"

"Do you require me to draw you a picture, Mandas? It should be obvious even to someone of limited faculties such as yourself that the King will do whatever it takes rather than let this treaty stand for any longer than it has to. If word reaches other nations that we were so 'generous' in our dealings with Oceanus, they will demand the same treatment."

"Yes, Your Excellency, of course."

"Enough of this. I have work to do. And I need to let you get back to your illicit pleasure that you insist on calling work."

Erodon terminated the Farview just as Mandas opened his mouth to reply.

The glow faded from the pearl. The Viewer closed his hand about it and made it disappear swiftly upon his person.

"You are dismissed for the evening," said Mandas.

"Yes, my Lord," said the Viewer. He bowed his head and left.

With the return of privacy came the return of Mandas' temper, such that it was. He let himself fume over his treatment by the High Minister.

As if the High Minister is one to criticize my "illicit" affairs, Mandas thought, from the number of skirts I heard he has lowered in his day!

Mandas took a deep breath. He allowed himself a smile. He could put aside his troubles for the moment. Regardless of whether anyone would consider what he was about to do truly part of his work, he quite intended to enjoy himself.

Mandas changed into his robe and left his quarters. This time he was barely aware of the eyes of the guards following his every step. The only guard he paid any mind whatsoever was the one at the entrance to the baths. To the Ambassador's delight, the first words from his mouth upon recognizing Mandas were: "Your private bath is prepared, my Lord. Room nine."

Mandas smiled in appreciation before passing the guard.

Upon entering the chamber, he immediately shifted his gaze towards the nearest of the sitting benches. But instead of seeing the lovely form of the young Naima, there was only a neatly folded robe.

"A pleasant evening to you, my Lord."

Mandas turned his head. Naima was already in the pool, her lithe, naked body submerged to nearly her shoulders from where she lounged against the side. The water lightly churned and rippled around her.

"It just got a lot more pleasant," said Mandas with a smile.

Naima returned the smile and leaned forward, rising enough to bare her breasts above the water.

"And even more so," the Ambassador added in a softer voice.

"Please, come into the water," Naima said in a husky voice. "Lest you wish my bosom to grow cold, as wet and exposed as it is."

Mandas felt his manhood surge. It had been awhile since he had engaged in such erotic wordplay. It was as if this woman knew exactly what he needed.

His robe fell from his body, his manhood rising proudly before him. "If I do come to you, Naima, shall I find other parts of you that are 'wet' as well?"

Naima gave him a sultry look. "Yes ... but not the least bit cold."

Mandas slipped into the water and quickly approached his quarry, sending a small wave ahead. It broke and splashed about her, water lapping at her nipples. They rose to glistening, hard points moments before the Ambassador's fingers closed gently around her soft breasts.

Naima leaned back against the side of the pool, letting out a slow sigh of mounting desire as his fingers kneaded her flesh. He played with her nipples, first with light, furtive touches, then harder flicks of his fingertips until she was panting lightly. Under the water, her legs parted in anticipation. Her fingers slipped around his swollen manhood, lightly caressing it.

His hands dropped from her breasts. She prepared herself, expecting him to grab her and impale himself inside her at once. Instead, she felt his hand slide along the inside of one of her thighs. Naima blinked in surprise and shivered in mounting lust at the gentle but provocative touch.

But she was even more shocked when Mandas lowered his head and leaned into her, and the next moment her nipple was being slowly and sensuously licked.

Naima tossed her head back, her body quivering. She was barely aware of the sound of the guard's footsteps retreating in the hall. He suckled at her nipple, drawing it into her mouth and squeezing it between lips and teeth. She did not want to interrupt the moment.

Naima gasped and let out a long moan as the fingers sliding along her thigh found their mark and invaded her folds. He teased her with light strokes and tentative probing of her tunnel until she was panting hard.

"Good gods ..." she breathed.

Mandas tugged at her nipple with his teeth and let it pop from his mouth, bringing another gasp. He lifted his head and smiled, fingers still inside her sex. "Surprised that I know how to please a lady, my dear?"

Naima fixed her dark eyes on his. "To be honest, my Lord, yes."

"It comes with the territory."

Naima tilted her head inquisitively.

"A means of climbing the ladder in Urisi," said Mandas. He withdrew his hand from her sex and gripped her around the waist. "A necessary skill."

"A necessary ... I don't understand what ... oh! ... oh my ..."

Naima grabbed his shoulders, fingers curling hard into his skin as his manhood filled her tunnel.

"Women in high places," Mandas explained in a strained voice as he began to thrust. "Unattended by their husbands ... in need of more than they are getting ... tired of simple pleasure on demand from slaves ..."

"Y-yes, I think I understand," Naima said, letting her body move to his rhythm. She smiled faintly. "It worked most admirably on me."

"Even though you are one that gets her fair share."

Naima blushed. "More than that ... more than is proper ..."

"Nonsense." Mandas' own breath was quickened. "No need ... to play the part of the prude ... with me ..."

"That is not what I ... n-never mind ... the guard is gone ... we can talk ..."

"Maybe ..."

Naima moaned. As much as she wanted to let this go on, she had to talk to him now. She could not risk waiting until post-coitus or a curious guard might return. She gripped his shoulders hard and flexed her arms, forcing him to slow down.

"I'm sorry," Naima panted. "We have to talk now, while we have the chance."

"I will not stop," Mandas said, as if in defiance of her, still sliding in and out of her.

"You don't need to ... and I don't want you to ... but we still must talk ..."

"All right, what is it?"

"The Emperor was poised to strike north ... now his forces hesitate and reorganize ... they will march soon, but something has changed radically ..."

All Mandas really wanted was concentrate on the pleasure of the moment. Nevertheless, he managed to nod and comment in return, "Do you know what has changed?"

"Only that the Emperor's ... Master Agent returned from a failed mission right before ..."

Mandas closed his eyes and moaned. He was rising despite the sedate pace. "Gods ... wh-what mission?"

"Something to do ... with a foreign agent ... that's all I know ..."

"From the same foreign power behind the Portals?"

Naima was panting harder. She simply nodded quickly in response.

With nothing more to be said, Mandas leaned into her, his hips moving with more alacrity. Naima slid her hands around him and pulled herself to him. She closed her eyes and moaned. Her body moved in concert with his.

Mandas reached his peak first. His body shuddered, and he let out a strained groan. Naima gasped as she felt him pulse hard inside her. With rising desperation, she slammed herself against his remaining hardness. She strained at the edge for what seemed an excruciatingly long time before she finally crested.

Naima let out a short but shrill cry. She pressed her pubis tightly against his body, letting her womanhood throb against his softening but still thick manhood.

"S-sorry," Mandas breathed. "I usually time it better than that."

"No, no, it was fine," Naima whispered, giving him a gentle kiss as her orgasm faded. She smiled. "It was quite nice. You were so much more attentive than the usual men I give myself to."

Mandas longed to be home again. He missed that sense of simple gratitude and appreciation. It was why he so rarely engaged in using slaves himself. He never got the same sense from them at all.

"The guard will return shortly, now that there are no more sounds of sex from the chamber, so we must end this," said Naima. There was a tone of regret in her voice. "Also ... this is likely the last time I will see you."

Mandas' face fell, but he nodded solemnly in understanding.

Naima separated from him and climbed out of the pool. "It will raise too many suspicions if I see the same man too many times, since all the guards know me and what I do."

"It was a pleasure, Naima," said Mandas. "A true pleasure. I wish it could have been under other circumstances."

Naima paused, then smiled in appreciation.

"Please give Nehmat my warmest regards and inform him that he has done well."

Naima quickly dried herself off and picked up her robe. "I will. And he sends his regards to you as well, and wishes you a safe trip home."

Without another word, Naima slipped on her robe and headed out of the chamber.

Mandas uttered a long sigh. He was not sure what upset him more, the information that Naima had conveyed to him, or the fact that he would never see her again.

He frowned. He had to concentrate on the former. His personal feelings could not get in the way. Once he did that and cleared his head, he understood the implications of what he had been told.

The Emperor had discovered the possible source of the foreign presence on his soil and was about to make war against it. But it also meant that this foreign power was already entrenched in Oceanus. Yet the supplies that had been agreed upon would not arrive for at least a full moon. The Emperor would have to conduct his campaign with what he had now. But if the Nobility chose that moment to strike, it would be utter chaos. It would play right into the hands of the foreign power.

Mandas rose from the pool. Now he had the unenviable task of contacting the High Minister again with this news.

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