A shrill whistle sounded on the deck of the Dreadnought Blaze. "Capt'n on deck!"

Captain Boddas rose to the top of the stairs, smiling at his crew as they stood at rigid attention. He nodded once. "As you were."

The men turned away and returned to their duties, save for one. A somewhat stocky, scruffy-looking young man remained at partial attention, facing the Captain. Boddas turned towards him long enough to ask, "You have a report for me?"

The First Mate nodded and followed as his Captain strolled towards the railing. "Aye, my Lord. The Fleet Adm'ral is safe and away. He's picked up a good tailwind since he left the day b'fore. Should make good time."

Boddas nodded absently as he looked towards shore, his eyes sweeping it from south to north. "Anything of more pertinent interest?"

"Aye, got a report from yer contact in port. They got the Farviewin' pearls ya asked for d'livered to the town mayors an' got 'em bound." He smiled, showing off several broken teeth. "Ya pegged it right, Capt'n, ya did. That Duric is goin' right fer the Palace. Not botherin' with the port towns."

Boddas smirked as he turned to face the First Mate. "And why should he? He has no need of ports. He knows the Emperor has no landing craft or any other means of delivering significant numbers of soldiers to his embattled lands. He gets all his supply inland. It is a very shrewd tactic."

The First Mate grinned. "Aye, leavin' them ta yer advantage, right, Capt'n?"

"Who better than those port towns to inform me of the position of Duric's army?" Boddas said with a smug smile. "How long until those pearls arrive?"

"Gettin' back ta port this mornin'. Should have 'em by midday, mebbe sooner."

"Very good." Boddas stepped away from the railing. "Bring the dreadnoughts towards shore, spread them out in a standard bombardment line. We can make adjustments as we go once I find out where Duric is. We should be able to shake them up just as they're winding down after the day's campaign."

"That late? Ya won't try an' slow 'em down during the day?"

"Better to get them when they're tired and their reaction time is down. And it just might demoralize them a bit."

The First Mate chortled. "Sneaky, Capt'n, sneaky!"

"Nothing sneaky about it. Just sound military tactics. Now, get to work on my orders. We'll need the Mage-guns charged and ready."

"Aye, Capt'n!"

Evella paused before the mirror in Lanno's quarters and smoothed out her dress, then ran her fingers through her hair to rid it of any remaining tangles. She dropped her arms to her side and let out a long sigh.

Now what?

That was the question she asked herself every morning. It was a struggle to find things to occupy her time. Lanno had to work at the Healer Office and take lessons from Vanlo on chemistry. She could not work there because that was Amanda's shift.

Evella resented Amanda, not just for taking up the morning shift, but for her apparent carefree attitude towards her lot in life. She had not had the Draught at all, not even a modified version of it, yet she had no trouble playing the part. Evella wished she could have as easy a time of it.

Evella turned away from the mirror. She glanced at the door as she crossed the room to Lanno's locker. She knelt beside it and opened it. After some rummaging around, she extracted a small pouch. Something rattled inside as she drew it close.

She tugged the drawstring open and peeked inside. There sat her remaining supply of the drug that she had created. She had promised Lanno she would not use it if she could avoid it. She would have to let the previous dose last as long as it could. Yet she was sure it was already wearing off. She was thinking about sex but she felt only a mild tingling in her nether regions.

Evella lifted a vial, let out a frustrated sigh, and dropped it back into the pouch. She put it back in the recesses of Lanno's locker -- the last place she thought he would look for it -- and cast a lingering, forlorn look at it before slowly closing the lid.

Evella stood and shook her head. She could not stay there another moment. It felt too much like being cooped up in her office at Freya's Manor. She tried to steel herself as much as possible against her own uneasiness over seeing so much nudity, then briskly walked out of Lanno's quarters. At the main path, she first turned towards the Healer office, reconsidered, then walked the other way.

Lord General Rithas sighed and tugged at the reins. The beast snorted and turned abruptly from the edge of the road, then galloped into the trees until the din of boots against packed earth faded. He pulled the horse to a stop and turned the beast towards the forest. "I accept the summons."

Emperor Z'haas began raging even while his image was still shimmering into being. "What in blazing hellfire is taking you so long?"

"We are marching as fast as we can, every waking moment of the day, my Emperor," said Rithas patiently.

"Lord Duric has advanced. He is pushing back my legions to the south. Cowards! They do not know how to stand and fight!"

"The Lord General of those legions is more than competent, my Emperor. I am sure he is engaging in a fighting withdrawal."

"I do not want withdrawals!" Z'haas bellowed. "I want Duric out of my lands!"

"My Emperor, I will be there in time. I will protect the Palace."

Z'haas had a wild look to his eyes that would have worried Rithas if he had not already settled on his current course of action. Now it was an advantage. The more the Emperor was addled, the less likely he would see the danger. "Protection is not enough, Lord General. I want him destroyed. I want him routed. I do not want to go through this again!"

Rithas maintained a steady, steel-eyed gaze. "I pledge to you that I will help your southern legions smash Duric's army. They will be destroyed or scattered, and this war will end. The Emperor will reign supreme once more across Oceanus."

Z'haas let out a windy sigh. As he did, he lifted his head high and regained some of his regal bearing. "Yes, Lord General, it will be so. But you must make haste. You must get here and set your legion against Duric. You must be here to make history!"

Rithas smiled. "I will, my Emperor. And I agree. History will indeed be made."

Z'haas nodded once and terminate the Farview.

Rithas was quite pleased with himself. He had managed that without telling a single lie. Yes, an Emperor would reign once more, but it would not be Z'haas. And, yes, history would be made, but not in the way that Z'haas had envisioned.

"Let him have his illusions," Rithas muttered as he steered his horse back to the road.

Just as he emerged, his adjunct Dollas rode up. "Another missive from the Emperor?" he asked with a tiny smile.

Rithas cast a cool look at him. "Simply to complain about the campaign. Everything is well in hand."

He turned his horse around and galloped a short distance before pulling back to a more sedate pace. Dollas drew even with him. "You cannot fool him forever, my Lord."

"And who says I am attempting to do so?"

"There are some in my clan that tell me that Lord Duric advances quickly. Surely we cannot be there in time now."

Rithas frowned and continued to stare straight ahead, only occasionally glancing at the ranks of men marching in a wide column down the road. "Perhaps your clan hears incorrectly. Perhaps Duric is bogged down trying to gain a foothold on Imperial lands. Perhaps our legions have more resolve than you give them credit for."

"And perhaps whatever your plans are will not come to fruition after all."

Rithas abruptly yanked on the reins. The horse came to a protesting stop. "Care to explain that comment?"

"My Lord, with all due respect, it is obvious to anyone with an ounce of intelligence that you are up to something."

"Really? And you suddenly know all there is to know about being a Lord General?"

"Please, my Lord, do not insult my intelligence. You have husbanded a great deal of supplies, yet you gave Commander Foron a pittance. You doled it out very carefully and very frugally, and now you return with nearly all of it, instead of transferring some of it to the Commander for his continued campaign."

Rithas sighed and tried to look bored. "Do you have anything else?"

"Your reluctance to advance with Commander Foron. Your transfer of some of your more vocal opponents of your strategies to Commander Foron's legion. Your lies to the Emperor. Shall I go on?"

"And what is it you are looking for from me? A confession? Something to give to the Emperor for the hope of favor from him?"

Dollas coaxed his horse closer and lowered his voice. "My Lord, the current Emperor is not long for the throne if he continues to fight with the forces that he has. It is obvious to me that you are not anxious to stop it despite your words."

The Lord General frowned. "Go on."

"I will not state out loud what I believe your plans are," said the young adjunct. "I will preserve your illusion of secrecy. All I wish is some favor from you."

Rithas was silent for a moment. "I see."

"Nothing big. Nothing extravagant. Just a position somewhere that allows me to accumulate some ... modest wealth. Enough to eventually retire comfortably and free from want. Is that so much to ask?"

The Lord General gave him a sardonic smile. "If I were truly considering such a scheme, and if I were truly able to pull off such a wild idea, I just might be inclined to show a little favor towards those that assisted me in any way."

"Then we understand each other?"

"I believe we do."

Dollas nodded. "Very good. Yes, my Lord, I agree. We will quite handily defend the Imperium, rout Lord Duric, and bring glory to our Emperor." He paused, smiled, and added in a very low voice, "Whoever he may be."

Dollas jerked his horse around and galloped back towards the front of the column.

Evella didn't really know where she was going. She knew nothing of the Manor save for Lanno's quarters, the Healer office, and the path in between. She simply picked a direction and a path and kept walking.

The paths wound and curved so much that she was no longer sure what direction she was going. She discovered she did not have to avert her eyes every time a naked slave passed. She was rather surprised, however, when they bowed their heads respectfully towards her as she passed.

She almost envied them. Despite how frightened she had been of receiving the Draught, and how traumatic it had been to remember her time under its influence, there was a certain simplicity about their lives that she craved.

Evella followed another curving path through a thicket of trees. As she came around the bend, she saw a stone archway ahead, and the trees appeared to part around a small clearing. Curious, she stepped towards it.

Evella came up short just before the archway and uttered a small gasp as her eyes fell on the Circle. Two adult female slaves lay upon the grass, each with her face buried between the other's thighs. The one on the bottom writhed and squirmed, her feet sliding, her heel occasionally digging into the ground as her muscles clenched. Her body trembled, her breath heavy. She licked at her partner with a reckless abandon.

Her partner was far more sedate, her tongue strokes slow and methodical. She was panting in her rising excitement, but she did not appear in as such dire need at the one under her. Finally the one on top showed signs that her excitement was reaching a fever pitch. She whimpered into the other's pussy, and her own ministrations faltered. Finally, it was too much. She tossed back her head and cried out in climax.

Evella gasped softly and felt a renewed heat in her nether regions.

The slave on top parted from the other, still panting. The one still on the ground clenched her hands into fists and let out a keening moan.

"Oh my, that was four!" exclaimed a platinum haired woman with delight as other slaves applauded. "You've never gone that far without cumming! Does anyone want to be number five?"

Evella's lips parted in shock as another slave approached and entwined herself with the one on the grass. She wondered if she had actually heard correctly, that this slave was actually holding herself back from orgasm.

She looked at the platinum haired slave and finally recognized her. It was Sirinna, the one that Vanlo had treated for night terrors.

Evella stared, more fascinated now than embarrassed. She watched the girl go through the same torturous ritual. This time it ended differently. Just as the latest contender was showing signs of reaching her peak, she threw her head back and uttered a loud cry as she finally came.

Sirinna beamed and began applauding. The others joined in as well. "Wonderful! Oh, so wonderful! Even better than when I trained you!"

Evella looked back at Sirinna. This was Roquan's Trainer? She let out a husky sigh and wrapped her arms around herself. Her sex felt wet and hot again.

The group began to break up. Evella's gaze lingered on Sirinna, who was talking to the other slave. When they finally parted, Sirinna started in her direction. Evella stumbled back from the archway and onto the path. Sirinna appeared and paused as her eyes fell upon the Healer. "Oh! Good day, Mistress Evella."

Evella blinked in surprise. "Mistress? Oh, I ... I'm not a Mistress, I just ..."

"It is a proper title of respect, Mistress," said Sirinna. "Is there anything you need?"

"Oh, um ... no ... well ... yes, but ..."

Sirinna tilted her head, giving Evella a confused look.

Evella sighed. "Sirinna, can we talk someplace a little more private?"

Sirinna smiled. "Certainly, Mistress. Please, come with me."

Evella let Sirinna walk past her, then followed. The roar of the ocean greeted her as the trees fell away. She glanced over the indigo waters just before she entered a low building.

"These are my quarters, Mistress," said Sirinna. "This should do."

Evella hesitated. "Sirinna, you're the Overlord's Trainer?"

"Yes, that's correct, Mistress."

"So you can teach women about, um, sexual techniques?"

"Of course, Mistress."

"Like for pleasing a man?"

"Or a woman. Yes, indeed."

Evella blushed again. "Sirinna, I'm not ... I-I'm not a slave ... not really ... but can you ... could you teach me some things?"

"I would be most happy to, Mistress."

"You would? I mean, you don't need to tell Roquan? You don't need his permission?"

"Slave trainers are occasionally called to teach a client about the finer points of sex, Mistress," Sirinna explained. "And they are generally done in confidence as you are requesting. So I do not need to inform Master Roquan."

Evella let out a heartfelt, relieved sigh. "Thank you! I feel embarrassed enough asking this. I mean, I know how to have sex. Meaning intercourse. But that doesn't take a lot, it ..."

"Oh, but there are many techniques I could teach you for just that, Mistress. Very many."

Evella bit her lower lip to suppress a whimper. Her thighs slipped past one another with a faint squishing noise in the crotch of her now damp undergarment. "Okay, I-I'll come back in a little bit," she said in a husky voice. "I have to ... um ... n-never mind ..."

"Is it something I can help with, Mistress?" Sirinna asked. "Are you in need of sexual relief?"

Evella's cheeks glowed. "I-I couldn't ..."

Sirinna stepped up to her. "Master Roquan's slaves are available for any staff or guests of his, Mistress. Please, I would be most happy if you took advantage of that."

Evella had not wanted to do it with a woman again. But her need was too great, the drug making it harder to experience her previous aversion. She managed a weak smile and let Sirinna take her hand.

A somewhat harried Lanno emerged from the back room of the Healer office. Vanlo followed moments later.

"Please be sure to review your notes this time about what you learned," the elder Healer said pointedly. "I do not wish to spend half of the next session merely going over again what you were supposed to have learned the previous day."

Lanno fumed silently. He surely did review his notes, but his mind was so much on Evella these days that it was harder to concentrate.

"Now, I am going for my constitutional. I will see you after the midday meal."

"Of course, Vanlo," Lanno said tersely.

Vanlo headed towards the back entrance and was gone.

Lanno tried to calm himself. He knew his anger towards Vanlo was misplaced. He had to learn more self-discipline if he were to keep all these facts and figures in his head. But Vanlo was driving him hard, and he was sure that he would still have trouble keeping up even if his concentration skills were up to par.

"Difficult material?"

Lanno blinked and turned his head. "Huh?"

Amanda turned towards him. "I asked if the material Vanlo's teaching you is difficult."

"Oh. Not really, just a lot of it."

"Is it at least interesting?"

Lanno nodded. "Yes, I'd say that." He paused. "So does this mean you're speaking to me again?"

Amanda hesitated. "I'm sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you," she said in a low voice. "I just didn't know what to say to you."

Lanno walked up to her. "I just want to know if you think I did something wrong. If I slighted you somehow."

Amanda was a bit nonplussed by the question. "Um, no, you didn't."

"So why did you give me the cold shoulder for so long?"

Amanda sighed. "I don't know. But you didn't help matters, you know. You barely seemed to notice me at all for those first few days since ... well, never mind."

"Go on, say it. Since Evella arrived, right?"

"Yes, since Evella arrived," said Amanda peevishly. "But it's my hangup and not yours. I know you hadn't seen her for awhile and you were worried about her."

The two stared at each other in silence for a few moments, as if each were daring the other to speak next. "You know I'm having sex with her, right?" Lanno asked.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Who doesn't?"

"That bothers you?"

"What difference does it make if it did?"

"It makes a big difference to me."

"Why should it?" Amanda demanded, annoyed. "I'm not your wife. I'm not even really your lover. I'm a slave. I shouldn't feel any more jealous over you having sex with Evella than I should some client having sex with another slave. Or some other woman."

Lanno stared hard at Amanda. Amanda glanced anxiously between him and the vials she had been filling. She seemed to shrink at his gaze and tried to return to her task.

"So ... we didn't have anything else between us?" Lanno asked in a low voice.

Amanda was so thunderstruck by the question that she spilled some fluid down the side of the vial she was trying to fill. "What?"

"It was just about the sex, that's all?"

Amanda opened her mouth and closed it again without saying a word. Suddenly she was at a loss for an answer. All she could do was toss the question back at him. "Wasn't that what it was all about with you?"

Lanno's eyes darkened. "I guess I don't know anymore. Maybe it was. You're not making it any easier for me to figure this out."

Amanda slammed a stoppered vial into its holder and faced him. "What is it you want from me? You want me to approve what you're doing with Evella, is that it?"

Lanno looked surprised. "Well, no, that's not what I meant."

Amanda was going to let it go there, but her eyes soon blazed with renewed anger. "Good, because I would tell you that I certainly do not approve. She's taking a stupid drug to keep herself sex-starved, and you're taking advantage of it."

Lanno frowned. "Look, I don't like the fact that she's taking this drug! Vanlo doesn't either, and even he's not stopping her. You going to yell at him about it, too?"

"He's not the one having sex with her, you are."

"And what am I supposed to do? Tell her to go do it with the slaves, with total strangers? Or go let some random man have her? Or wouldn't it be a little better that she do it with someone that she trusts and that at least won't treat her like a slave?"

Amanda realized that Lanno had a very good point. No one could make decisions for Evella, and he was simply trying to make the best of it. She was a bit shocked at her own reaction, but no words came to her that she could say to make it better.

Lanno sighed and threw up his hands. "Maybe we should go back to just not saying anything to each other anymore, at least then you won't be forced into pointing out all my faults."

Amanda finally got her voice to work, but he was already on his way out. "Lanno, wait, please, I'm sorry, I didn't ..."

Lanno continued as if he had not heard her. Amanda trailed off and could only watch him go. When he disappeared out the front entrance of the office, Amanda clenched her teeth so hard that her jaw ached. Her hand closed into a trembling fist.

I am NOT jealous! Gods damn it, I am not jealous! I am ...

There was a muffled crack. Amanda yelped and opened her hand. The vial she had forgotten she had been holding leaked green fluid on the counter and her palm, save for the dots of crimson where the shards of broken glass had cut her skin.

Amanda shielded her eyes with her free hand. She sniffled once, a few tears trickling otherwise silently from her eyes. She wiped them hastily and went to treat her hand.

Crews swarmed over the decks of the three Sunfire-class Dreadnoughts in Boddas' fleet. Along the side of each facing the shore, massive guns of cast-forged iron were revealed from under the tarps and pushed into place. So heavy were they that four men were required to move a single one. As each was moved into place, a shout went down belowdecks, were an equal number of men pushed an equally heavy counterweight towards the opposite side in order to keep the ship level in the water.

In turn, the men yanked open an access panel and revealed the inside of a spherical chamber at the base of the gun. Within, strange metals and crystals were arranged in a lattice. A single blue pearl was dropped inside. It slowed and hung suspended in the lattice.

Moments later, the pearl glowed scarlet. A bright aura expanded about it and touched the lattice. Soon the entire chamber churned with magical energy. Satisfied that the gun was charging properly, the sailor closed the panel.

From his vantage point in the center of the line of three ships, Boddas swept his gaze first towards the one fore, the Flare, and then towards the one aft, the Inferno. Dots of red peppered the sides as guns were charged in turn.

He turned towards the deck of his own ship. The men were already nearly done. He smiled and nodded in satisfaction.

"Capt'n!"

"Here," Boddas called out, lifting his hand. His First Mate ran up, carrying several parchments in his hands. "What is it?"

"Jus' finished with the mayors, my Lord. I got the 'prox'mate position of Duric's army!"

Boddas took the parchments from his First Mate and looked over the annotated maps inked upon them. He slowly nodded. "He is further north than I thought he would be by now."

"Will that be a problem, Capt'n?"

"Not really." He glanced fore and then aft again. "The others are almost done. Once they have their guns out, we will sail further up the coast and set anchor about ... here." He placed his finger on the map. "But keep formation, I don't want to have to waste time spacing out the ships again."

"Aye, Capt'n!"

Boddas returned to the railing as his First Mate left and smiled. "It is too bad you won't be here to see it, Lord Admiral. It will be most glorious."

"Guildmaster, a moment, please ..."

"Uro ... I mean, Guildmaster ... I have to talk to you about ..."

"Guildmaster Q'garra? When you have a moment, we have ..."

Uroddus held up his hands in a stopping gesture as he stood in the wide hall that led away from the Guildmaster's office. "Please, one at a time," he said with a small, tired sigh. Tallia, Katla, and Q'kollan all fell silent at once. He turned to Tallia. "Yes, what may I do for you, Healer?"

"Two things, both brief," said Tallia crisply. "First, Mage Q'land has made a full recovery. I am releasing him today."

"Excellent news," said Q'kollan. Katla nodded as well and smiled.

"Yes, indeed," Uroddus agreed. "And the other item?"

"I have finished a complete post-mortem on Mage Q'yros. It was definitely an Oath that caused his death, I am sure of that now."

"I never doubted it," Katla said sourly.

"But for something of this magnitude, we must be sure," said Q'kollan. "So that history is properly recorded. It is sad that Q'ixanna will be remembered like this. His initial years as Guildmaster were bright ones indeed."

Katla carefully said nothing in reply.

"Thank you, Healer, your work is appreciated," Uroddus said. "I will authorize a proper ceremony for his departure from this world."

Tallia nodded once and headed away.

"Now, Katla, what is it?"

"We finally found some old texts on mind magicks," Katla said excitedly.

"Really?" said Q'kollan. "It was my impression that those were destroyed some time ago."

"We managed to decipher some clues from an old journal of one of the early pioneers of mind magic research. He apparently wanted to preserve some of the work no matter what. We found the hidden place he had put them and broke the magical seal on it."

"Well done," Uroddus said. "This will be an enormous help. I already know of a few things on which I wish to consult these texts."

Katla frowned. "Well, better be prepared to wait, since what we got are scattered across several volumes. We need to index this stuff. I'd really like to work with some of the Mage Elders, especially ones that have done archiving."

"That can be arranged," Q'kollan said. He had fallen into the unofficial role of liason to the Traditionalists in addition to the official capacity as Elder Adviser to the Guildmaster. Uroddus saw him as a bridge between the two disciplines.

"Is that all, Katla?" Uroddus asked.

"Yes, that's all. I need to head to the library. We think there may be some more scrolls that reference mind magic there, hidden among the more traditional works."

Q'kollan watched Katla go, then smiled at the Guildmaster. "Information is very hard to destroy, is it not?"

"Fortunately for us, it seems that way. As I told Katla the other day, we only have the crudest picture of these Portals and how they operate. Much of what we have achieved so far is luck more than anything else. Now, what may I do for you, Mage Q'kollan?"

"Do you wish the good news or the bad news first?"

"Good, if you will."

"All the Mages assigned to the Noble Lord Palaces are making progress. It is slow progress, but progress nevertheless. Each Palace requires a unique solution to both provide for the Noble Lord's safety and for sealing of all entrances to allow time to surround the Palace and put down any incursion."

"That's the best we can hope for at this point."

Q'kollan nodded. "Agreed. Now, the bad news. The Mage Elders are balking at dealing with the Empiricists directly."

"I would have hoped that the Mage Elders would be over their misgivings by now."

"Ah, but do not be quick to blame only them. The problem is that the Empiricists keep spewing too many numbers and formulae at them. The Mage Elders simply do not understand this approach, and their egos drive them to bombast rather than admit their ignorance. But to be fair, I am getting the impression that the Empiricists are attempting to 'show up' the Mage Elders. So there is blame to be had all around."

"I suppose I was being a bit too idealistic in hoping that it would all come together quickly," said Uroddus. "Very well, I will speak with them."

Q'kollan considered. "Speak to both groups at the same time. And highlight the failings of both. It will force the egos from both sides to cancel out, and will show very plainly that you are not playing favorites."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. Thank you for your continued insights. I am sure I would have been lost in this position without you."

"I believe you would have learned eventually, but this spares you some extra pain. And it saves time, which appears to be in constant short supply."

"Yes, indeed. I have heard that The Nobility's army has clashed with Imperial forces already."

Q'kollan nodded. "You heard correctly." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Do we not have a Mage assigned to the Imperial court?"

"Yes, we do. He has been requesting cancellation of his contract and a return to the Guild Hall. He claims that the Emperor is not mentally stable."

Q'kollan's eyes widened. "Really. Well, that would bode well for the Nobility in their endeavor. Are you going to grant his request?"

"I have not decided yet. The Emperor may very well demand a replacement, and I have no one to spare. I do not care to have the Emperor angry with me, as it will be another distraction if he is truly as unstable as Q'holan appears to believe he is."

Q'kollan nodded and sighed. "I hate to see any Mage in an untenable position."

"As do I, but there is little I can do. I need to focus on this crisis."

"Agreed. I would suggest offering some generous compensation if he can stick it out for a bit longer. Oh, and it would help to assure him that the Guild will see to his safety as much as it can were things to go bad for the Emperor in the war."

"I will do that," said the Guildmaster.

Boddas leaned against the railing and watched as the sun sank below the western horizon, the sky afire in bright orange and crimson. A smile touched his lips. "Man the guns!"

The two signalmen, one fore and one aft, each raised his lantern and used its metal shutter to relay the order to the other two Dreadnoughts. Men surged towards the guns and spun a large wheel on each to elevate the barrel to the assigned height. Others brought forth padded crates containing clear orbs of Mage-glass, situating one crate for each gun.

"Ready one!" Boddas called out.

At the fore-most gun, the panel was opened. Light from the seething magical fire speared the deep blue sky like a blood-soaked sword. The churning energies thrummed. A second man grabbed an orb and held over the opening. Flickers of crimson appeared on the other two ships as the order was relayed and theirs crews followed suit.

Boddas watched the very last sliver of sun vanish in a final flicker. "Fire one! Ready Two!"

The orb dropped and the cover was slammed shut. Men ducked to the side.

Inside the gun, the orb absorbed and concentrated an amount of the fiery energy. Before the orb could shatter from the enormous surge of power, the gun roared and launched its payload, a streak of brilliant scarlet slashing into the blue and arcing high over the shoreline.

Two more streaks of crimson scorched the air from the other Dreadnoughts. At the same time, the second gun was opened, and another orb poised above it.

"Fire two! Ready three!"

Lord Duric dropped his eyes to the map scroll that had been spread over the table in his tent. His eyes glanced over the annotations that his adjuncts had made. He nodded and looked up, meeting the calm and clear gazes of his regimental commanders. "We are making excellent progress. We have advanced further than expected."

"Do we need to worry about stretching our supply line, my Lord?" one of the commanders asked.

"I don't believe so. The villages in our immediate path have been very cooperative. We should not have to go far afield for supplies."

Another commander chuckled. "They seemed to be glad to see us. So much for Z'haas inspiring the masses!"

Laughter rose among the others. Duric raised his hands for quiet, though he allowed himself a small smile as well. "As much as the peasants may complain about fat Noble Lords and their riches, take away the familiar from them and they will clamor to have it back. Besides, the Lord who used to rule this province was fair-handed. They remember that. So make sure the men do not take too much advantage of their hospitality."

"Another lesson from Lord Tarras, my Lord?" asked another commander.

Duric smiled. "Yes, and one we should well remember." He suddenly paused and glanced to the side. His smile faded.

"My Lord, about tomorrow's advance," said the first commander. "I would like to suggest a flanking maneuver around the ..."

"Do you hear that?" Duric said suddenly.

The commander fell silent. A few exchanged looks until it came again. A rushing sound, high-pitched, just short of a whistle. It swelled, passed overhead, then waned.

"That was very odd, my Lord," said the commander. "What do you suppose ...?"

Thunder rolled over them like a wave, a faint vibration felt through their boots. From outside came the rising din of sudden, anxious conversation. The tent flap was pulled back as a soldier peeked his head into the tent. "Lord Duric, my apologies, but something odd has happened."

Lord Duric frowned and rushed outside, the commanders following in his wake. Men were gathering towards the west side of the camp, looking towards the trees. Some were pointing in that direction, or towards the sky. "What's going on here, soldier?" Duric asked.

The soldier looked anxiously at Lord Duric. "I'm not sure, my Lord. Something came across the sky ..." He thrust his spear into the air and traced an arcing path. " ... like that. Bright red and glowing. It seemed to come down over there." He pointed.

Lord Duric took a few steps in that direction.

"My Lord!"

Several men called out as well. Duric whirled around in time to see a slash of red come out of the sky and plummet to earth just east of the camp. There was a flash, a pause, and a peel of thunder.

"What is this, my Lord?" one of the commanders asked. "What manner of phenomenon is this?"

Before Duric could answer, there was a sudden, high whistle and a burst of scarlet light at the north end of the camp. Sound exploded in their ears, the ground shaking beneath their feet. In the wake of the thunder came the screams of men as splintered wood, twisted metal, and burnt flesh rained down.

"Mage fire!" Lord Duric shouted. "Take cover! Mage Fire!"

"Mage fire?" cried one of the commanders. "This far inland? Who in the name of the gods is firing at us? Even Z'haas is not insane enough to ..."

Another burst of Mage-fire crashed to earth, exploding just at the far northeast corner of the camp. Several horses panicked and reared in the air, breaking loose from their posts. Commanders surged forward and roared orders at the men, slowly turning the chaos into some semblance of order. A contingent of soldiers formed around Lord Duric and rushed him towards makeshift shelter formed by an overturned supply cart.

A half dozen streaks of crimson light descended, their payloads landing well outside the camp. Yet occasionally one exploded with much more alacrity, and in the still air, the faint screams and laments of peasants rose horribly above the quiet. Soon flames licked the sky from the hills as their homes and farms caught fire.

One of Lord Duric's adjuncts raced across the camp and dived behind Lord Duric's shelter just as another landed nearly in the center of the camp with a deafening thunderclap and an explosion of dirt and rock. Fortunately, no one was at that spot, having all scattered to whatever shelter they could find, or relegating themselves to patrolling the perimeter, as if believing that moving about would somehow spare them from death.

"My Lord, what is this?" the adjunct cried. "This cannot be from Imperial ships, can it?"

"Only Imperial Dreadnoughts would have Mage-guns with this kind of range," said Duric. Another explosion sounded distantly outside the confines of the camp. Two more streaks of light disappeared well away from camp, their landing distant and silent.

The adjunct turned away from the display. "But apparently not much accuracy, my Lord."

"It is accurate enough, unfortunately. But this ..."

Red light flared, blinding bright. The explosion slammed into their makeshift shelter, splintering the wood and throwing them back. There were several screams as half a dozen soldiers were caught at the edge of the blast.

A soldier helped Duric sit up. "My Lord! Are you all right?"

Duric brushed debris from his arms. "Quite fine."

"Shall we find you a new shelter?"

"I do not think it will matter. A direct hit would take us out regardless." He turned to his adjunct and helped him up. "As I was saying, this could be luck. An ambitious Captain deciding to point his guns at what he believes to be the rearward guard of our army and hoping for the best."

"Such a plan is madness, my Lord! He could hit his own troops!"

"Yes, indeed. But Z'haas is mad, and he apparently attracts more of his ilk to him."

Another explosion shook the ground. Mercifully, no screams came forth.

"What do we do, my Lord?"

"We wait it out," said Duric. "Then I will contact Lord Tarras, as my knowledge of the navy is limited."

Lord Tarras considered, his hands folded behind his back. As he walked, his robe swirled about his feet. "From the sound of it, about three Dreadnoughts were used against you," he finally said to the Farview image of Duric. "Either Firestorm or Sunfire class. Most likely the latter, as they have longer ranged guns. The observed frequency of the strikes and the length of the bombardment would suggest this. You are fortunate. There are fleets that contain as many as six Dreadnoughts."

"Fortunate or not, Tarras, I lost men and material," Duric said.

"But not a whole lot, from what I gathered."

"Perhaps, but it rattled them, which I feel is worse."

Tarras paused and nodded. "The Emperor was mad to order such an attack. You saw for yourself how ungodly inaccurate Mage guns are at that range."

"Tell that to the men, Tarras. It was accurate enough."

"Whatever you do, Duric, do not show any indecisiveness or fear to the men. They will pick up on that."

Duric managed a small smile. "I remembered that as well from the scrolls you gave me. No, I calmed them down, but they have lost several candlemarks of sleep. We cannot delay our advance in the morning."

"Motivated men are more resilient than you think. Continue to look confident before them and they will rally. You should have no trouble tomorrow."

"But do you think this will happen again, Tarras?"

"I am not sure. I am hoping your theory is correct. But you may be advised to alter your invasion route. Swing to the west and come at the Palace from the southwest," said Tarras. "I believe you are already at the far range of their guns. A little further inland will give you breathing space."

Duric turned towards the table. He peered at the map. "We're blocked by highlands to the west until we pass the village of Rannsburg. At our current rate of advance, that is three days from now."

"Hmm. And you are likely to run into another legion joining up from the west when you do make that diversion."

"Which means I will have to fight on the north and west at the same time. Not to mention it risks exposing my east flank as I advance."

Tarras considered. "Let's keep that plan in reserve, then. If you continue and no further bombardments come, you are likely in the clear."

Duric nodded. "Thank you, Lord Tarras. I never thought I would have to contend with the Imperial navy."

"It was shortsighted on my part," Tarras said. "The presence of the navy is so ubiquitous that we hardly notice it. And the Emperor had not been inclined to turn its guns on his own lands. Had the merchants not already partially severed ties with the Imperium, the threat of loss of trade might have stayed his hand."

"Is there any word on that other legion, the one that we believe Rithas is commanding?"

"We don't have an exact fix on his position," Tarras said. "We know that he is moving south. Likely it will be a race to see who gets to the Palace first."

"In that case, I will have to hope that luck abandons this Fleet Captain and finds me instead."

Tarras smiled. "You are still doing better than expected, Lord Duric. There is still a great deal of hope."

Duric smiled as well. "Never doubted it for a moment. Good day to you, Lord Tarras."

"Good day, Lord Duric."

The Farview image faded. Tarras turned around. "My apologies for the interruption."

An elderly man in Mage robes stepped forward. "Quite all right, my Lord. I simply wished to inform you that you have made my work ridiculously easy here."

"Found the old hidden passageways, have you?"

"Indeed! This Palace must have quite a history, my Lord. It is child's play to shore up the ceilings and clear the debris. It is simply a matter of extending the tunnels into key areas. Such as ..." The Mage glanced around the bedroom.

Tarras smile wanly. "I had hoped to preserve this room as-is. It has been as you see it for well over a century."

The Mage sighed. "Alas, such places are a dying breed. I will do my best to minimize the damage as much as possible."

"Thank you. History is important, my dear Mage. It is best to preserve it as much as possible."

"And learn from it?"

Tarras slowly nodded. "Indeed."

A heavy sigh rose from the darkness as Amanda rolled onto her back. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, tracing the patterns of the slim logs that held up the thatched roof.

She glanced out the window, wishing as she did so many times that she had a way of telling what time it was. She was close to asking Roquan to procure some scrolls on astronomy for her, just so she could read the passage of time by the position of the stars.

Amanda finally sat up and got out of bed. There was no point in trying to sleep now.

She carefully drew aside the curtain in her doorway and paused, her gaze falling on Sirinna. She let out a small sigh of relief to find her lover sleeping peacefully for once. Amanda carefully padded past Sirinna and slipped out into the night.

She shivered in the crisp air. It was well into autumn now, and even though this semi-tropical island would never truly get cold, it was cool enough at night to give her a chill. She wandered down the path, having no particular destination in mind. She simply wanted to walk and sort out her feelings.

She felt guilty about Lanno. She had been so unkind to him. If it were not for the fact that Evella was there, she would have gone to his quarters and apologized. She shook her head in frustration. Even now, after admitting her own error, she still felt a twinge of jealousy.

I'm not mature enough, Amanda thought. That's it right there, isn't it?

Amanda turned down another path, paused, then staggered back and leaned heavily against a tree despite the roughness of the bark against her back. Or perhaps because of it, as the discomfort helped sharpen her mind against encroaching exhaustion. She raised her eyes, looking straight down the shadowy path before her. Slave quarters lay scattered among the tall, slim palm trees on either side.

She wondered if she were really fifteen yet. Her birthday was supposed to be in early autumn. It didn't seem possible that only one birthday had passed. She felt several years older. Perhaps that was why she felt she should be several years wiser as well.

Amanda straightened. As she turned away, a faint flicker of light appeared at the edge of her vision.

Amanda whipped her head back, thinking she had seen one of the torches along the sides of the road lighting at someone's approach. Yet the path was as dark as it was before.

The flicker came again. Amanda craned her neck curiously. This time it was definitely not the path lights. This had come from too far to the side. She took a tentative step forward and waited. She saw it again, a faint flash of blue, briefly outlining a window.

Curious, Amanda took a few tentative steps towards the slave quarters from which it had come. She came to a dead stop when she realized that it was Freya's quarters. As she stared, it flashed again, sputtered and flickered, then slowly rose to a steady brilliance, its light dancing as a candle flame might.

Amanda thought perhaps she was seeing Freya trying to light a recalcitrant oil lamp. But while many such lamps did burn blue, there was something that was off about it somehow. Amanda took a few more steps forward, moving slowly and cautiously. She came to the last tree between her and the building and pulled herself behind it.

The light suddenly went out. A pause, then a flicker. Another pause, another flicker. A final pause, and then a flare into steady light again. Amanda slowly came out from behind the tree.

Her foot came down on a twig, which snapped before she could pull back. The light abruptly went out. Amanda ducked behind the tree and made herself as small as possible, her heart pounding.

There was the sound of a blind being drawn back haphazardly, a pause, and then the blind dropping back into place. Amanda remained where she was for a few moments, then carefully peeked around the side of the tree. The window was dark once more, and as she stared at it, it remained dark.

Amanda quickly headed away, glancing over her shoulder nervously. Now she wanted nothing more than to be in the security of her own bed chamber.

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.