The sun rose bright and clear, its rays topping the hills that surrounded the road to Talrad Pass. Men roused from their slumber before twilight barely touched the skies now marched with uniform precision, a giant snake winding among the shadows of the hills.

The land rose, and the shouts from lookouts echoed down the line.

Swords were drawn. Crossbows were drawn back. Catapults and siege weapons were loaded for bear. The sounds of sliding metal and straining wood was returned in kind by the defenders who now advanced from their positions with a roar of men short on experience but long on spirit.

And in this crucial pass, the armies clashed in chaos and blood.

"This is madness," said the first Cohort. "Why Talrad Pass? It is too easily defensible."

"It matters not to the Imperial legions," said the second Cohort. "They have strength in numbers. They will overcome whatever defense Appalanchian soldiers have organized."

"But at such losses! It makes little sense for what they would wish to gain from this incursion."

"It should be clear to you by now that their goals have changed. Or have you forgotten about the escaped Master Agent?"

"But his only escape was through the mines. No one could make it through there."

"You underestimate the skills of the enemy at our peril, my friend."

"But listen to your own words! If Talrad Pass falls, there is nothing to prevent the legions from advancing ..."

"Stop," said the Wanderer.

The Cohort fell silent. Both turned to their Master. "My apologies, Master," said the first.

"And I as well, for encouraging him," said the second.

Jollis nodded and sighed. Suddenly the walls of his quarters in the D'yoran Manor that had served him so well felt too confining. "Does the Overlord know of this development?"

"We have not informed him, Wanderer, and have instructed the others not to," said the first Cohort.

"But he is bound to learn sooner or later through other channels, Master," said the second. "Surely the other Overlords already know."

Jollis was at a complete loss. It was obvious that the Emperor considered him such a grave threat that he would stop at nothing to eliminate it. Jollis did not understand why. The Emperor would have no direct proof that Jollis was any more than he appeared, a skilled infiltrator, but ultimately only one man.

He felt a sense of familiarity. He had encountered a situation like this before. Somewhere lay a missing piece of the puzzle that would unmask the motivation behind the Emperor's thoughts.

"Wanderer, is it not possible that we are misinterpreting what we are seeing?" asked the second Cohort. "Perhaps the Emperor has another goal in mind and will bypass the Manor?"

"We cannot take that chance," said Jollis. "We must assume the worst, that the Emperor is coming for the Manor. And for me."

"The Cohorts will protect you, Master," said the first.

Jollis shook his head. "No, I have another task for you."

The two exchanged a look. "Wanderer, should not our place be here in case ...?"

"The threat to me lies south. I will be safe until it comes closer."

"And what then?"

The Wanderer considered very carefully. "And then ... I will leave."

"But the task ...!"

"It will be completed another way. But I need time to think and to plan. Buy me that time. Join with the other Cohorts and disrupt the Imperial line of battle in some way. Leave me the ones at Freya's Manor, but take the others with you. Use a Portal to get there quickly. Delay the inevitable fall of the Appalanchian defenders."

The Cohorts bowed reverently as one. "We will do your will, Master," said the first.

"And give our lives if necessary," said the second.

Jollis waved a hand and dismissed them. The Cohorts left.

He remained quiet and still. He was finally out of time and bereft of any new solutions. He was facing complete failure for the first time. It was a struggle to retain his composure. It was all too easy to simply accept defeat, head back through the Portal to home, and submit himself for punishment and humiliation.

Jollis called upon all his remaining discipline to push away these thoughts. It was difficult, but slowly his mind cleared and focused. Now he needed something upon which to focus it.

A new approach is required, Jollis thought.

It was a start. It was an acknowledgment that none of his old thinking would prevail. It freed himself to examine any possibility, no matter how remote, no matter how radical.

And only fate would decide if he had enough time.

The Farview visage of the Noble Lord shimmered, partially from the weakness of the image itself and partially from the shaking of the one whose image it conveyed. By contrast, Lord Uras was a bastion of calm and resolve as he cast a stern look at the younger Lord.

"Can you spare any more men at all, Lord Werris?" boomed Uras in the old chamber in the Carolas Palace.

Lord Werris K'ollon of North Appalanchia wrung his hands. "I have provided all I can, Lord Uras! My advisers fear that we would leave ourselves defenseless if we send any more ..."

"Blast your advisers, Werris! You rule Appalanchia, not them!"

"North Appalanchia, Lord Uras, please."

Uras waved a hand in annoyed dismissal. "Two of the other Appalanchian Lords have chosen to command their legions personally. The other is too weak for me to even dignify him with the title of 'Lord.'"

From the table, both Duric and Tarras looked up from the maps they were poring over and exchanged a look. That had been a rare insult from Uras, reserved only for those for which he truly held nothing but contempt.

"That leaves you, Werris. And I am sure you do not wish history to record that you failed to have a backbone at a critical time. But then again, the history scrolls will make no mention of it because we will have lost and the victor is the one who dictates how those scrolls are written!"

Uras' voice rose to a bellow. Duric winced and looked at the older Lord. "With all due respect, Lord Uras, they will hardly get there in time to stop a breach at Talrad Pass."

Tarras leaned back. "I do not hold out much hope that the meager forces there now will hold more than a few days."

"Lord Uras, we were promised more soldiers," Werris said. "To be delivered by Overlord Portal. Where are they? If ever they were needed, it is now!"

Uras glowered. "The Overlords have balked on that arrangement, that traitorous lot of ..."

"Lord Uras, please," said Tarras. "Let us not go there again."

"And why not? They are reneging on the agreement at the final candlemark!"

"I have explained why, Uras. Several times."

Uras threw up his hands. "Yes, yes, yes, some nonsense about Overlord politics and other rot."

"Uras, I think you're getting too worked up over this," said Duric. "The Emperor is a fool for advancing through that pass. Sure, he'll get a clean run up north once he gets past it, but there's hardly anything there but Overlord Manors and peasant farms."

"But what of beyond that?" Uras demanded. "If he has clear run, he will be able to strike at the northern approaches!"

"Exactly why my advisers wish to keep our soldiers here, Lord Uras," said Werris in a pleading tone. "We cannot raise many more. We have nearly every able-bodied man under arms, and I had to do that through conscription!"

Tarras frowned. "I am not sure that was wise."

"Why not?" demanded Uras.

"What have I been saying all along? Men's heart and spirit decide a war. You wish soldiers to have some belief in their cause rather than simply earning some platinum each moon."

"At this point, I will take what I can get! With all your talk about hearts and minds, you seem to forget that sometimes all an army needs is a bunch of men with sharp weapons and a chance to swing them at something."

Tarras sighed and exchanged a look with Duric. The younger Lord simply shrugged in resignation.

Uras turned to Werris. "Fine. Keep your soldiers where they are. I will attempt to wrangle the Overlords into coming through for us. Now go away."

Without waiting for a response, Uras waved his hand and terminated the Farview. He snatched the pearl from the floor, wrinkling his noise as if he had touched something disgusting.

"Lord Uras, you should instead see this as an opportunity," said Tarras.

"Eh? How's that?" Uras asked in irritation as he came to the table and looked over the maps.

"The Emperor is making a mistake. He is expending supplies that he cannot replenish quickly enough, even with a signed trade agreement with the Urisi. It will take time for the first goods to arrive in Imperial lands."

"Bottom line, Tarras! Is he weak? Can we strike now?"

"Not yet," Duric spoke up. "They have committed fewer legions to this thrust than we thought they would use in their original plan. So we wait."

Uras frowned. "We are not going to abandon Appalanchia like you originally wanted to do!"

Duric was already shaking his head. "I'm not. Hear me out. Eventually they will need to send reinforcements. The defenders at Talrad Pass will wear them down a bit."

"So you assume!"

"Yes, so he assumes," said Tarras. "But that is the only option we have now. Lord Uras, we will have exactly one opportunity to get this right and prevent a bloody war of attrition."

"If one more legion leaves the Imperial territories, that will give us a chance," said Duric. "That will make our army on par with theirs at least from a position of men and arms."

"And how is that not a battle of attrition already?" Uras cried. He waved his hands just as Tarras was about to speak. "I know! I know! Hearts of men!"

"Yes," Tarras said. "And a better supply line."

"If we don't wait too long, you mean. Otherwise the Urisi will be supplying him."

"Timing will be critical, yes, I agree. Duric and I are monitoring things very closely."

Uras glowered. "Those insufferable Urisi! Why do they choose sides now? They showed every indication of wishing to stay out of this war."

"I have to admit, that confused me as well," Duric said.

Uras stepped forward and banged his fist on the table. "The Urisi will not have any influence in a post-Z'haas government! I will not stand for it!"

"They hardly need it," said Tarras. "We've given them no reason to wish to exert any sort of control over Oceanus. We trade freely and fairly with them. We protect their ships and shores from pirates. Neither has border claims that are in dispute. Our spheres of influence do not overlap. There could not be a better arrangement anywhere on Narlass."

"Then explain to me why now, if not to tip that balance in their favor?"

Tarras was silent for a moment. He shook his head. "I do not know. I admit, this disturbs me somewhat."

Uras shook his head and waved an arm. "No, we will not tarry. There is no need for discussion. The next Emperor will simply put things back the way they were, and that will be it."

Duric raised an eyebrow. He exchanged a look with Tarras. A tiny smile tugged at Tarras' lips. Duric frowned and looked to Lord Uras, stating in a clear, loud voice, "Surely that will be your priority then, Lord Uras, when you assume the throne."

Uras spun around, looking quite taken aback. "Me? Take the throne? You must be mad."

Duric's jaw tightened. "Surely you are the most natural choice. You are the elder statesman of the Noble Lords. You are the most experienced. No one would dispute your claim."

"Except for the simple fact you overlook: I do not want it."

Duric stood in stony silence.

"I am too old, Duric. The Emperor needs to be a younger man this time, someone that will restore and maintain stability for a long time." He paused, and glanced at Tarras. Duric noticed this and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Now, enough of this nonsense. I have other matters to attend to. Good day."

"Good day," both Tarras and Duric said in turn.

After Uras had left, Duric turned to Tarras. "You talked to him about it, didn't you?"

"Oh, I may have mentioned something in passing about the idea of you as Emperor, yes."

"And?"

"He thought I was a loon."

Duric smirked.

"Until I explained it to him, that is. Now he sees the merits of it."

Duric's smile faded.

"Lord Uras is affected by the same thing that affects all older men, a resistance to a younger mindset. But even he can listen to reason."

"And what of the other Lords? Do any of them want the position?"

"Oh, I am sure every one down to the last man wishes to sit upon that throne. Which is precisely why it should be denied them." He turned towards Duric. "I will make my last and final plea. Take the throne, Duric. Be a reluctant Emperor. Avoid sitting upon the throne if you must. Refuse the trappings of Imperial majesty if you wish. But lead us. Lead Oceanus. Make it whole again."

Duric remained silent.

"You wish further encouragement?" asked Tarras. "Speak with Roquan on the matter."

Duric laughed humorlessly. "A Noble Lord requesting of an Overlord who the next Emperor should be? That is indeed amusing."

"Nothing amusing about it, Duric. He is a friend of yours, and you value his opinion. That is what a good leader does, he seeks the counsel of others before making an important decision." Tarras slowly smiled. "And it seems I have succeeded in making you consider that decision. Thus my work is done, and you will hear no more about it. Good day to you, Lord Duric."

"Good day, Lord Tarras," said Duric.

He watched the other Noble Lord go. When he was gone, Duric cracked a small smile.

"You're a real bastard sometimes, Lord Tarras," he said softly.

Q'yros was wheezing by the time he reached the workshop chamber where he was to meet Uroddus. The younger Mage had only just arrived himself, and turned in surprise when Q'yros staggered in. The elder Mage leaned on his staff heavily, and then nearly tumbled to the floor when the tip of his staff slid.

Uroddus rushed to him. "Master Q'yros, are you quite all right? Shall I summon ...?"

"Slaves," Q'yros croaked.

Uroddus paused. "I beg your pardon?"

Q'yros took a moment to catch his breath. He lowered himself shakily into a seat. It seemed that every day he had less energy, as if his advanced age were catching up to him again despite having husbanded his magical power.

Ancient wizards such as he could compensate for advanced age by keeping a store of magical energy in their bodies. But it meant refraining from any large feats of magic to allow a "charge" to build. Q'yros had not done any serious magic for the past half-moon, but his endurance continued to ebb regardless.

"Are you sure you are ...?" Uroddus began again.

Q'yros waved him off. "Slaves, Q'garra. That is what we did not think of!"

The Journeyman adjusted his spectacles. "I do not understand."

"Think for a minute! You know of the slave trade, do you not?"

"Well, yes. Not that I necessarily approve of it, but ..."

"I was not asking for your political stance on it, blast it! You know how it works?"

"Approximately. High-born men called Overlords own large plots of land where they maintain and train young women as slaves. They are then sold to Noble Lords for their pleasure."

"Almost right," said Q'yros. "First off, they are not all men. One Overlord is female, much to my chagrin. Second, they do not sell the slaves, only contract them. It's a service industry in Oceanus, not a commodity market. Third, there are male slaves, though not as much call for them."

"Be that as it may, Master Q'yros, what relevance does it have to anything? Or are we back to your theory about Portals being used as the main instrument of invasion?"

"We never left it," Q'yros declared, rising from his chair. He staggered a bit before drawing upright. He batted his staff against Uroddus' hand when the younger Mage tried to reach out to him. "Now, think. Where would slaves spend most of their time outside an Overlord Manor?"

Uroddus rubbed his hand and looked thoughtful. "I suppose they would be inside the Noble Lord's palace much of the time."

"Yes, exactly. The slaves of the Overlords would, taken collectively, have intimate knowledge of every single Palace they have ever resided."

"But are we not back to the original problem? They would still need to be captured in order to provide the coordinates for the Portal from their memories. Whether they be at a Palace or a Manor, it would be difficult to do such a thing and not generate a great deal of attention."

"Unless something has happened, and we simply do not know about it," said Q'yros. "The Overlords are maddeningly insular. More so, sometimes, than our present Guildmaster. They rarely discuss Overlord matters with others, even the Noble Lords. It is not seen as proper."

Uroddus slipped off his spectacles and tapped them against his chin. "Then it would behoove us to contact the Overlords at once."

Q'yros smiled. "Oh, so do you finally concede the point? It took you long enough."

"I concede a possibility," corrected Uroddus. "Any Empiricist will tell you that it is foolish to disregard new information when it is available. We should pursue it."

Q'yros' hands tightened about his staff. "Fine. We must speak with Guildmaster Q'ixanna, then," he said in a stiff voice.

Uroddus frowned. "Do we really need to go through him, Master Q'yros?"

"Anything related to these Portals must be cleared by him, unfortunately."

"Very well. Considering how important it is to eliminate this possibility from consideration if possible, surely he will be reasonable and allow us to make contact."

Q'yros clenched his teeth to hold back a tart retort.

The dapper elder Overlord stood sedately by the entrance to the opulent training chamber, his hands folded sedately before him. He observed the sexual abandon before him with perfect equanimity befitting one of his experience. His eye roamed over the girls not with lust but with critical assessment, as he would do when reviewing his own slaves.

There were five. Too many in one group with only one Trainer was his immediate criticism. Two were upon their backs, receiving the manhoods of two male slaves. One serviced another male slave with her mouth. The remaining two were entwined in mutual oral pleasure.

Too much variety at once was his second thought. They would learn hardly any sort of finesse like this. There was too much lust and not enough education. It was very clear to him that all five were recent acquisitions. Their youth and clumsiness was quite evident. This would eventually overtax the Trainer.

Behind him came the beat of feet on wood, and the huffing of quickened breath. He turned.

"Overlord Trennan," said a winded Freya. "This is unexpected ... an unexpected pleasure."

Trennan smiled tightly and bowed his head respectfully. "I do hope I did not catch you at a bad time."

"Ah, not at all, Trennan," said Freya. She smiled and tugged her dress down around her thighs, smoothing it out with a few quick swipes. "But I did not know you were here until you sent one of my slaves to fetch me. My guards did not inform me that you arrived at the gate."

"I came by Portal, Freya," said Trennan as he stepped away from the door and into the sunlight. "You still had yours partially energized. I simply used it as a focus. Please forgive the breach of protocol, but I felt it best that I speak with you in person."

Freya controlled her annoyance. "Oh? Has there been some development I ought to be aware of?"

Trennan's jaw clenched. "Several, though I doubt I need to tell you of one of them."

Freya caught the hint of disdain in his voice. She gave him a sly smile. "Yes, I know of the successful conclusion of the treaty. I am sorry if I offend your sensibilities because I continue to eavesdrop on Roquan."

Trennan waved a hand in dismissal. "I will not belabor the point. You know my feelings and we will leave it at that."

"Yes, of course. We have something more important to consider, such as Roquan's crimes."

Trennan paused. He clasped his hands behind him and glanced towards the Training Chamber for a moment. "That is the other thing I need to discuss."

Some of Freya's smile faded. "I do hope it is to begin arranging for a Conclave, Trennan."

There was a long pause. "Not exactly."

Freya's lips drew almost into a pout before she caught herself. "I thought the agreement was to wait until after the treaty was signed, then arrange ..."

"No agreement was ever entered into, Freya, by any stretch of the imagination," Trennan said in irritation. "What I agreed to was the concept that it would be prudent to wait, not that we would jump into action the moment the ink was dry."

"And why not? Roquan's transgressions demand speedy retribution. Unless you have been swayed by his empty arguments like so many were at the Conclave."

"I will not have you implying that I am either duplicitous or stupid, Freya. Stop that right now."

Freya paused, then forced a small smile and bowed her head. "Apologies."

Trennan sighed. "These are difficult times, Freya. I assume you can see the danger that lies virtually at your doorstep?"

Freya rolled her eyes. "Surely you do not mean the incursion near Talrad Pass?"

Trennan narrowed his eyes. "How you can treat it with such flippancy is beyond me. There is little between you and that Pass."

"On the contrary, there is a whole forest between the Pass and my Manor. Anyone wishing to strike at my Manor would first need to move north, through the D'yoran Manor, and then take the long, winding west road to me. The old road through the forest is too overgrown for entire legions to traverse." Freya grinned. "And I doubt I am the target of the Emperor's wrath. I suspect it is Gronnus, for some badly considered dealings with Z'haas."

"If those rumors are true."

Freya chuckled throatily. "Let's just say I have some insider information."

She relished the thought of Gronnus' Manor being overrun by Imperial troops. The sheer travesty of such a move mattered not. It meant Jollis would have to come to her alone for more slaves, which meant twice as much platinum coming in, if not more.

"Please, do not elaborate on your methods further," said Trennan. "The point is, Freya, that calling a Conclave now may be counterproductive until we see the result of the Imperial campaign. It might be seen as a threat to the Emperor, and if the Overlords are to seek rapprochement with Z'haas ..."

"Yes, all right, I understand," she said in annoyance. "But we cannot wait forever. We cannot let Roquan get away with what he has done."

"I can assure you that we will not. But I refuse to rush into something so monumental. We have not deposed an Overlord for nearly a century. We should not be so quick to celebrate breaking that streak."

But Freya wished to do exactly that. She wished to shout and dance with glee that she had finally backed Roquan into a corner, that she had finally destroyed his aura of infallibility. "Yes, I see your point. Is there anything else?"

"On such ... weighty matters, no." He paused. "I see you have begun acquiring new slaves."

Freya smiled. "Yes, I have, in anticipation of the new trade treaty with the Urisi. It seemed prudent. If I had known you were coming, Trennan, I would have arranged for a proper Presenting."

"You appear to be hedging your bets, as it were."

Freya tilted her head. "Come again?"

"Five. Quite the number to acquire at once. That would tax the resources of even the best of us."

Freya applied all her willpower not to sneer. She assumed he was secretly comparing her to Roquan. Even now, there were those still in awe at his supposed prowess with Training slaves.

Freya smiled tightly. "It is a bit of a short term risk, yes, but I am hoping for far greater long term gains."

"The sheer amount of power that you drew for your Portal to open to so many worlds must have been prodigious. Yet your Portal device shows no sign of stress. I am most impressed with whoever keeps it in tune."

"Nothing but the best for my Manor, Trennan. Is that not what all Overlords wish?"

Trennan simply nodded once. "I will take my leave of you then, Freya, and allow you to go about your business."

"Are you sure you would not wish to stay, and allow me the honor of powering my Portal fully for your trip home?"

"Thank you, but no," he said politely.

"Surely you have not waited long enough for a full power-cycle of your Portal."

"No, but I wish to spend some time in the village before I leave."

Freya looked surprised and a bit wary. "May I ask why?"

"I wish to catch some merchants from the clan that will be visiting my Manor in a quarter-moon. I neglected to mention a few things I needed to their runner a few days ago."

"Ah, of course. If you check with the guards at the gate, they can provide you a carriage."

"Thank you. Now I must head out so that I can make it back before dark. Good day to you, Freya."

"Good day, Trennan."

"Master Q'yros, I have the figures from the latest foreign Portals that were detected within the last quarter moon," said Uroddus as he walked into the elder Mage's study. "We have been fortunate to witness this rise in Portal activity. It has allowed me to refine my formulae and allow me to detect the presence of human thought in the ..."

Q'yros suddenly jabbed his staff towards the younger Mage. "Did you read the scrolls I referred you to, Q'garra?"

Uroddus paused. "Yes, I did. Very enlightening, to say the least."

"So you now have a better understanding on how the Nobility hierarchy and governing operates?"

"Yes, though I fail to see the relevance to our more critical research."

Q'yros turned away and swept his staff before him. "I need you looking at the bigger picture. I need you to incorporate the way the world really works into your relentless calculations. Assign numbers to that knowledge, Q'garra, and include them in your reckoning."

"For what purpose, Master Q'yros? Do you continue to hold to the theory that these Portals will be used to conquer Oceanus?"

"I have every right to be worried about it! You speak of Portals that can be sent past wards, that require no one already on the inside. One of the first things that many guards at the gates of Noble Palaces do to visitors is require them to declare all the pearls they have with them."

"But did I not state the effort that would be involved?" asked Uroddus patiently. He adjusted his spectacles. "Unless you have new information to which I am not privy."

Q'yros waved a hand in dismissal. "I have contacted a few Noble Lords that I am still on decent terms with, at least the ones that have not been tainted by Roquan's invective against me. They report nothing unusual of late at their Palaces."

"No kidnappings or people otherwise gone missing?"

"No. Nothing."

"That would tend to support my argument," said Uroddus as delicately as he could.

"And you have no further insights yourself?"

"I had not framed my reading of the scrolls in that light."

"Do so now! Is there anything that you read that would even hint of the possibility I suggest?"

Uroddus was growing weary of these attempts to shore up a hypothesis that had no shred of proof, but knew that Q'yros would not let go. "The typical Noble Court consists of the Noble Lord, his immediate advisers, their immediate support staff, and the guards that protect the lot," intoned Uroddus. "That would be the inner circle and the most likely targets, as they would have intimate knowledge of places very close to the Noble Lord, including the throne room and his private chambers.

"From there, the viability of a kidnapping producing something useful falls off dramatically. Once you get outside of the guards loyal to the Noble Lord, you have the serving staff, various clerical positions, perhaps an outer perimeter defense or patrolling guards. Then you have the peasants just outside the Palace. From there your chances are practically nil."

"And what about outsiders?" Q'yros asked.

"Outsiders would consist largely of merchants, couriers, ambassadors, and other visiting Nobility. Now, I suppose it is possible that some of the merchants kidnapped had knowledge of the inside of some Palaces, but it would hardly be enough to cover a significant portion of Oceanus. Also consider that merchants do not spend much time in any given area. All indications are that for the thought imprint to work properly, it has to be a strong one, built up over time by a continuous presence at the desired location."

"And is that it? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else, Master Q'yros. I believe we have exhausted this line of thinking."

Q'yros glowered and said nothing.

"Is there something else?"

The older Mage started to shake his head, then stopped and frowned. "It was something I had heard from one of the Noble Lords. It has nothing to do with this. The Emperor is striking northward."

"Ah. I wondered if there would be another move made in the war."

Q'yros was irritated by the casual attitude of the Journeyman, though he could hardly blame the young man. Even many older Mages paid little attention to political matters outside the Guild, even those of such import as a civil war.

"Are you disturbed by this development, Master Q'yros?"

"Not me. But the Nobility are. Seems Z'haas is not moving as expected. He is heading towards an area that has no strategic value. Only forest, peasant farms and villages, and Overlord Manors."

"Obviously the Emperor thinks this will gain him something," said Uroddus.

Q'yros remained silent. While he had said that it had little to do with the topic at hand, in reality he was not so sure. He felt as if there were some sort of connection, even if a tenuous one. It was like when he had first conceived of the breakthrough that allowed him to consider Portals without focusing pearls. It had taken him awhile to make that final intuitive leap. He felt as if he were close to one now.

Or it was in his mind, and he was simply becoming as paranoid as the Emperor in his old age. He acknowledged this possibility as well.

Q'yros waved his staff. "I have rambled on enough. Show me what you have, Q'garra ..."

The sun drew low in the sky, the plains to the west tinged with crimson sunset flame, and cast a ruddy glow across the forward chamber of Evella's quarters. The touch of the sun upon the horizon would signal the start of the evening meal, but Evella had little appetite. All she could do was sit by her small desk and shiver, her legs squeezed together as if that gesture would somehow lock out the unwanted compulsions creeping over her body.

Evella sighed in despair as she glanced towards the curtained doorway, beyond which her bedchamber lay. The curtain was opaque, but did little to stop sound. From around its edges drifted soft, sensual moans and a lusty pant.

Evella swallowed as she struggled not to envision what the nubile young slave was doing to herself and failed. She shivered again, heat tickling mercilessly at her sex. When her thighs shifted, they were greeted with warm moisture oozing from her folds. Two hard bumps pressed outward on her robe from her breasts. She wrapped her arms around herself, only to pull the fabric more taut against them. The slide of the cloth against her nipples sent a shudder through her.

After that terrible thing that Freya had done to her the other day, and she had cried herself out that night, she thought she could cope. The amount of the herb that had been fed to her was not enough to imbue constant sexual cravings like the Overlord's slaves. She could set her mind on other tasks and ignore the desire when it came.

Then Freya assigned one of her slaves to Evella. Freya said to "make use of her" as needed. Evella refused to have anything to do with the girl, but the slave followed the Healer wherever she went. And when Evella did not make use of her, the slave had to take care of her own cravings alone.

The moans rose to a gentle cry as the slave's self-pleasuring reached a peak. Evella let out a husky sigh, her thighs quaking as they parted. A hand slid down to her waist before she caught herself. She whimpered.

The slave slowly subsided, but Evella knew it would not last long. One orgasm would not satisfy. It would start up again soon.

Evella's eyes glistened. She worried now that Freya was upping the dosage. As it was, her only solace was that it would not be permanent. Without the other ingredients that comprised the Draught, the effect of the sexual enhancement herbs would be temporary. But that was only if it remained at a low to moderate dosage. Higher dosages might have detrimental effects. She was not sure the Overlord understood this, or would even care if she did.

Before the heat in Evella's loins could dissipate, soft moans and pants again rose from behind the curtain.

She bit her lip as she looked towards the bedchamber. She hated the Overlord. Freya was taking advantage of her own sense of fair play. It would not be enough for Evella to simply ask the slave to pleasure her. The sense of guilt would negate any pleasure that Evella might derive from the act.

Evella rose shakily to her feet. She swallowed hard and headed towards the chamber. She paused for a long moment at the curtain before finally sweeping it aside and stepping past.

The slave was sprawled on the furs of the bed, legs spread, fingers and pussy glistening where they met. Her other hand squeezed and fondled a breast. She looked up and smiled. "Yes, Mistress?"

Evella let out a quavering sigh. Her eyes flicked to the slave's intimate regions. A sense of revulsion rose inside her, but it fought a losing battle against her lust.

"I-I ... I need ..." Evella stammered, as if having to force each word out.

"Do you need me to give you pleasure now, Mistress?"

"Yes ... but ... I-I should ... I should do something for you in return ..."

The slave's smile widened. "I would be honored, Mistress. Would you wish to do so at the same time?"

Evella shuddered. She remembered the slaves she had seen entwined with one another, faces buried in each other's musky, swollen folds. Her stomach twitched, then subsided.

"I ... I've never done it ..." Evella said in a small voice.

"Mistress Freya told me you may wish instruction."

For a moment, Evella wanted to run screaming. She was actually contemplating placing her mouth at another woman's sex. Such type of sexual contact was considered "dirty" in her clan. Yet she had already "allowed" another to do it to her. It was only fair that she do it in return. Perhaps it was a fitting punishment for being foolish enough to enter into the arrangement with the Overlord that had brought her to this point.

Evella finally nodded. "Yes ... please, teach me ..."

The slave sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Evella's breath became labored as the slave stood and approached, and then a heavy pant as the sash on the robe was undone. Evella trembled when the robe fell from her shoulders and into a heap about her feet.

The slave lay a hand against Evella's waist. Evella felt another flash of heat in her sex. "This will be easier with you on your back, Mistress."

Evella nodded, unable to speak. Shaking, she climbed onto the bed and lay on her back.

Evella let out a small whimper as the girl's body touched hers. She resisted the urge to push her away when the slave's hips rose over her face. She stared up at the girl's bare, wet pussy, eyes glazed in both fear and desire.

Hands parted Evella's thighs. "I will start, so the pleasure will encourage you. Then I will lower myself. Just lick gently at my womanhood to begin. I will guide you further after that."

Evella said nothing. Her throat felt tight. She continued to stare at the aroused flesh above her. Her heavy breath drew in the moist smell of the slave's arousal.

She flinched and gasped as the slave's tongue touched her needy folds. She let out a ragged moan and spread her legs further. She was not aware of the slave's pussy descending towards her until the aroma overpowered her.

Evella's stomach twisted again. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head away slightly. She closed her eyes, paused, then opened them again and once more stared at the wet, open flesh.

The slave's tongue thrust against Evella's tunnel, lips brushing her swollen nub. She let out another lustful moan. Evella's trembling hands rose and alighted on the girl's hips. The slave lowered herself to the Healer's face.

Evella tentatively sampled the slave's womanhood, just a few very furtive licks. She shuddered and ventured further. She pressed her tongue a little more firmly against it, trying to mimic the slave. The slave shivered and moaned. Encouraged, Evella continued. The slave "rewarded" her with deeper ministrations.

Evella let out a husky sigh into the slave's steamy sex and drew the slave's hips further down.

She already knew in the back of her mind that she would pay for this later. Once the flames of desire had been doused, realization would come cruelly to her, and she would cry herself to sleep. But for the moment it didn't matter. She had a craving that needed to be satisfied.

Just like a slave.

Q'ixanna's frown deepened. "And you know what I have said to you in the past about releasing information before I deem it is necessary!" the Guildmaster thundered.

Q'yros took a slow, deep breath in an attempt to retain his calm. "There is no need to release such information, Guildmaster. I am sure we can come up with a sufficiently convincing cover story to explain our questions."

The Guildmaster's eyes narrowed at the mention of the word "we." His gaze shifted to Uroddus, as if he had forgotten that the young Journeyman was still in the room. Uroddus stood to the side, his calm real while his Master's was forced. He maintained a level but respectful gaze towards the Guildmaster.

"And is this where your insane idea came from in the first place?" Q'ixanna demanded contemptuously. "I never would have suspected you, Q'yros, of cavorting with an Empiricist. You have indeed fallen from your lofty perch, now, haven't you?"

Uroddus did not react to the implied insult, except to reach up and adjust his spectacles.

"That was uncalled for, Guildmaster," said Q'yros.

The Guildmaster shook a finger at Q'yros. "You had better be careful what you say about me, Q'yros, especially in front of others! And you know why."

Uroddus raised an eyebrow. Q'yros drew in a breath and let it go noisily through his nose. "I withdraw the comment," he said through clenched teeth.

"That is better. Treat me with respect if you wish to avoid consequences."

"Of course, Guildmaster. Now, if I may return to the subject at hand ..."

"I am quite sure I have heard enough of this madness. Your request is denied."

Q'yros' fingers curled tightly around the end of his staff until the knuckles turned white. "May I ask why?"

"You may ask. See if I have to answer it."

"Pardon, Guildmaster, but you do," said Uroddus.

Q'ixanna looked aghast, as if he had again forgotten the young man were there. Q'yros turned and frowned at him. "Q'garra, do not ..."

"Section four, paragraph seven of the Charter of Rules and Bylaws for the Oceanus Mage Guild clearly states that in a matter where the Guildmaster denies a request for information, travel, communication, or sabbatical, the one denied has the right to one follow-up question, and the Guildmaster is duty-bound to answer it to the best of his ability."

Q'yros stared. He was not sure whether to be angry or admiring.

Q'ixanna's eyes burned. A tic throbbed on his forehead.

"Please, Guildmaster, if you would," said Uroddus. "Master Q'yros has asked a valid question in compliance with that rule. Please provide an answer."

"Very well," said the Guildmaster. "I do not trust that more information will be revealed than I wish to convey. That should have been obvious from the start."

Q'yros appeared to consider for a moment. "You mean you do not trust me."

"If that is what you wish to read into it, so be it!"

"Then perhaps it would be a simple matter of giving another the task, since it is obvious that I cannot be the one to do it."

Uroddus glanced at Q'yros curiously for a moment.

"You assume that I ascribe any usefulness to your task at all, Q'yros, that I would think to give it to anyone else."

"Assuming you did, Guildmaster, it would be a simple matter of selecting this individual, binding a Farviewing pearl to him, and ..."

"When I denied your task ..."

" ... special courier ..."

"... that you could plead ..."

"... suggest Roquan D'ronstaq as the one to ..."

"Enough!"

"I am not attempting to undermine your authority, Guildmaster!" said Q'yros, his voice quavering. "My only interest is in the safety of Oceanus! Nothing more!"

The Guildmaster bolted to his feet. "Silence!"

Q'yros quieted. Uroddus frowned very slightly as he looked between the two men.

"I will remind you that I had been entrusted with the safety of Oceanus by the Emperor long before you ever treated with him!" Q'ixanna thundered. "It is I he held as the gatekeeper for the artifacts that you have studied. I will be the final arbiter in anything even remotely associated with it. So do not presume that you have as great a responsibility as I do. Information will be released only when I have received a direct order from the Emperor that sits upon the throne of Oceanus. And until someone tells me that the war has gone some other way than I understand it has, that person is Fenric Z'haas, and no one else!"

Uroddus' face was stone, but his eyes betrayed incredulity. He knew the Mages were traditionally insular, but this man pursued it with a doggedness that bordered on fanaticism.

The Guildmaster slowly sat down. "I have heard the request. I have denied it." He sneered at Uroddus. "I have allowed the follow-up question. Now get out."

Q'yros picked up his staff and swept out of the room, his gait unsteady. Uroddus followed. "Master Q'yros, are you all right?" the Journeyman asked.

"Quite all right," said Q'yros stiffly.

"In light of the Guildmaster's recalcitrance, how would you suggest circumventing ..."

"There is nothing to circumvent."

"But did you not say that we would work quietly around ..."

"We cannot go against the Guildmaster." Q'yros turned his head towards Uroddus and narrowed his eyes. "I already gave the Guildmaster an alternative plan."

"But he did not go for that either."

Q'yros stared at Uroddus for a long moment, then turned away without saying a word.

"Master Q'yros? Wait ..."

"I am quite tired, Q'garra, and I need rest. Good night."

Uroddus let out a sigh as he watched the elder Mage retreat.

Mianna's eyes shimmered with the same anxiety that made her heart race and thud in her ears. She wrung her hands as she stood at the threshold of the small tavern on the outskirts of the village. Her gaze darted about the room, trying not to meet the eyes of any of the hard-drinking men at the tables scattered haphazardly through the establishment.

"Hey, you gonna jus' stand there all day lettin' the flies in?"

A hand fluttered to her bosom. The barman, a heavyset fellow with a permanent scowl, glared at her. Several patrons nearby snickered.

She summoned up her courage and stepped inside and towards the bar. "Um ... I-I'm looking for someone ..."

"Huh. That so."

"Heh, mebbe yer lookin' for me, cutie?" an old merchant said in a gravelly voice. He gave her a lascivious wink that made Mianna shiver in revulsion.

The barman backhanded him against the shoulder. "Aw, shut it, Channod, I recko'nize the lady now. Maiden Elder back in the village. Show some manners!"

The old merchant blinked. "Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't know ..." he said in an obviously embarrassed voice.

Mianna relaxed somewhat. She sometimes forgot that her title granted her a measure of respect even on the fringes of the village. She forced a smile and nodded to the merchant.

"Sorry about that," said the barman in a more polite voice. "Who're ya lookin' for?"

"I received a message that someone wanted to meet me here." She paused, then said in a lower voice, "An Overlord."

"Oh, yeah, him." He swept a beefy arm towards the back corner. "Way over there. Can't miss 'im."

"Thank you."

Mianna fled from the bar and threaded through the crowd as quickly as she could. The throng seemed to break up abruptly as she neared the table. It was as if the man had some sort of aura or shield around him, an area that none of the others would dare approach. It gave him his own measure of quiet and privacy in a place that normally had neither.

The man looked up. "Yes?"

Mianna swallowed. "Um ... You were looking to speak with me, my Lord?"

"You are the Maiden Elder Mianna?"

Mianna nodded quickly.

"Yes, I did." He gestured to the other seat at the table.

Mianna took the proffered seat, sitting with her hands folded demurely in her lap, trying not to look intimidated.

"I am Overlord Trennan D'vard. I wish you to keep our conversation in confidence. Do not tell anyone else. Not your family. Not your friends. And ... not Overlord Freya D'yros."

Mianna's eyes widened, dazed. "Yes, my Lord, of course."

"Has anything unusual happened of late in the village?" Trennan asked.

"Unusual?"

"Yes. Has anyone gone missing?"

Mianna looked uncomfortable. "Missing?"

"Yes, missing. Going into the countryside, for example, but failing to return. Or perhaps left the village some time during the night without telling anyone where he ... or she ... was going."

"Nothing like that, my Lord," said Mianna quickly. "Definitely nothing like that."

Trennan paused. He gave the Maiden Elder a critical eye, as if evaluating a misbehaving slave. He did not think of her as such, but it helped him perceive subtle nuances in body language that gave him some insights. And those told him that she was nervous about something beyond simply sitting with an Overlord in a tavern.

"And no one has been sent away from the village at all in recent times?" the Overlord asked. "No one at all?"

Mianna fidgeted. "Um, well ... sometimes we send folk to ... to the Overlord Manor. Overlord Freya, that is."

Trennan nodded slowly and gestured for her to continue.

"To do chores around the Manor. If ... if there's too much work to do for the slaves to handle it."

"And have you done so recently?"

"Yes. Overlord Freya has a lot of gardens that need tending. So I sent her some maidens."

"I see."

Mianna fell silent, the two words as heavy as lead.

Trennan closed his eyes and conjured the memory of the Training session he had watched. He focused on the girl that had been servicing a male slave with her mouth. "Was one of them a girl with a roundish face, and straight hair that was rusty brown, with dark blue eyes?"

Mianna's eyes widened. "Yes! That's would be Gissa. Have you seen her? Did you visit Overlord Freya recently?"

Trennan opened his eyes. "Yes, I did, just today."

"Was she okay? Did she look well? Overlord Freya has been too busy to let me come to the Manor."

"She is well," he said in a hollow voice.

Mianna relaxed, her lips curling into a small smile. "I am most glad to hear that, my Lord. I have to admit, I was little concerned for my girls. Gissa is such a sweet one, too. So meek and modest. I was afraid she would have trouble adjusting."

Trennan simply nodded. Too much anger seethed inside him reply in anything less than a hostile tone.

"Is there anything else you wished to ask me, my Lord?"

Trennan need time to calm himself before he could speak, so much so that the Maiden Elder tilted her head inquisitively. "That is all," Trennan finally said. "Thank you for your time. You may go."

Mianna smiled and stood. She headed out of the tavern, in a much better mood than when she entered.

Trennan waited a few more moments, then rose and headed out of the tavern, ignoring the barman's attempt to offer a polite and respectful departure. He paused just outside the tavern, looking off to the crimson sunset sky. He crossed the road and stepped into the shadow of the trees. He withdrew a pearl from his pocket, waved a hand over it once, and placed it on the ground.

The pearl glowed brightly. Moments later, Doran's image shimmered into view.

"Overlord," said Trennan crisply. "I will repeat: I will not let what Roquan has done pass without consequences. But that said, I wish to inform you that whatever action Roquan and his allies wish to take against Freya ... "

He paused, his eyes blazing.

" ... I will not stand in the way."

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