Mage Q'holan folded his hands demurely before him and bowed his head. "Thus I now accept any punishment you see fit to give me, Guildmaster."

Uroddus considered for a long moment. He had no need to consult the Guild Charter, as he had made a point to memorize it over the past quarter moon. He felt that it was his responsibility to have the law at his fingertips at all times.

Indeed, Q'holan did violate the rules. He interfered in a matter of war. At the same time, Uroddus thought it a bit hypocritical that the mere illumination of the battlefield would be considered a matter of war, yet trading in Mage-fire cannons was considered a matter of commerce simply because no Mage would be the one actually firing the weapon.

"To be perfectly honest, Mage Q'holan, I doubt you will find many that will outright condemn you for assisting in the removal of Z'haas from power, not after what I have heard about the waning days of his reign."

Q'holan nodded. "Yes, Guildmaster, and I doubt I would have done any differently had I had it to do over again. Z'haas was insane. Had he submitted to a Healer specializing in mind medicine, the Healer would have reached that conclusion as well."

"I tend to agree."

"But I still violated the Guild Charter, Guildmaster. You're required to punish me."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes. But there are no stipulations as to the manner of punishment."

Q'holan's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing more.

Uroddus picked up a parchment from his desk and adjusted his spectacles. "It seems that for some time you were adamant about leaving your post and returning to the Guild."

"Well, yes, Guildmaster, but that was only because ..."

Uroddus held up a hand to silence him. "Please, allow me to finish. As I was saying, it is clear you do not like this assignment as Prime Advisor. It is clearly an anathema to you. Therefore, an appropriate punishment would be to assign you to this position for a period no less than one year."

Q'holan stared. "What?"

"Good, I see that you understand the gravity of this discipline."

"Uh ... but, Guildmaster, you don't understand, I don't ..."

"Please, Mage Q'holan, no further pleas. You stated at the beginning you would accept whatever I imposed without question. My decision stands."

Q'holan looked exasperated. "But, Guildmaster, I am trying to tell you, a position like this is something that I would now ..."

"Mage Q'holan. Please remember that anything you say in this matter I must take into account. If you wish no further action to be taken by me, you shall consider carefully what you are about to say."

The Mage fell silent. It finally dawned on him what the Guildmaster had done. He slowly smiled. "Of course, Guildmaster. I withdraw my plea and accept the punishment as it stands."

"Very good. I will have a Portal powered for your return to the Imperial Palace by this evening. That is all."

Mage Q'holan bowed his head and quickly left the office.

Uroddus sighed and shook his head. Things like that were not among those he really wanted to handle as Guildmaster. He hoped that his creative interpretation of the rules would not be seriously questioned.

He stood and came out from behind the desk. He was halfway to the door when Katla and Q'kollan both burst into the room. Both were carrying several parchments.

"Is something the matter?" Uroddus asked after seeing both their distressed faces.

"Plenty," Katla muttered.

"We appear to be at an impasse concerning the task you last put to us," said Q'kollan. "And to put it mildly, it has gotten ugly. We just left a meeting ..."

"Shouting match is more like it," Katla said sourly.

"Be that as it may, the point is that both sides cannot come to an agreement on a particularly critical point." Q'kollan turned to Katla. "And to be perfectly honest, Mage Q'yoona, the Empiricists are being particularly obstinate on this point."

Katla frowned. "And the Traditionalists have not been in the past? I seem to recall some reluctance about accepting that the new Portal technology could even exist."

"And I believe that the Empiricists have not learned from this, as they are falling into the same trap as we did in refusing to accept something with such vast implications ..."

"Please, stop," Uroddus said, holding up his hands. "Do not carry the dispute in here. What is the issue?"

The two glanced at each other. Q'kollan nodded. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." Katla turned to Uroddus and presented him the parchments. "We've been trying to puzzle out the formulae that would lead to the theory that was proposed in those notes, that somehow combining similar memories from multiple people had some extraordinary effect."

Uroddus nodded as he skimmed over the pages of complex formulae and mathematical proofs. "But it is not yielding results."

"No, it's not. The equations either diverge or contradict each other."

"And this is where the Traditionalists come in, Guildmaster," Q'kollan began. "Once the gist of what the equations were trying to define was understood, we applied some more 'old-fashioned' methodology to it and came up with this."

Uroddus accepted the second parchments and skimmed them. These read more like an essay, filled with metaphor and analogy to explain how the various aspects of the magic possibly worked with one another. He looked up, a mild expression of shock on his face. "Are you sure of this?"

"Of course not," said Q'kollan. "We are not sure that is the ultimate answer."

"It can't be," Katla said. "It will not fit the calculations. Nothing we do can make the numbers work."

"But it fits with how magic works from a point of view that has sustained us for many centuries. I realize the merits of Empiricism, but it is not the whole answer. Even our Guildmaster realizes this."

Both of them looked towards Uroddus.

The Guildmaster let out a deep breath. "The implications are staggering. It means that if you have enough people with similar memories of a particular person, then you could potentially target certain spells at that person no matter where he is."

Q'kollan nodded gravely. "Now take it one step further. Apply it to the new Portal mechanics."

Uroddus frowned. "It means you could target a Portal in the vicinity of a particular person regardless of where he is. Regardless of whether you have memories specific to that location."

"Which makes no sense!" Katla called out. "Portals do not work that way. They need specific coordinates in physical space!"

"I would contend that we are not the ones to state how Portals should or should not work," said Q'kollan. "Considering the vast amount of new information we have discovered this past season."

"But this is something more fundamental."

"Yet you have been unable to complete the relevant equations. Could this be for the same reason, that it requires extending your thinking beyond the numbers?"

"Katla," Uroddus said softly when she was about to protest again. "He has a point."

Katla frowned. "All right. But you see what this means? It means that the preparations we did to protect the Noble Lords will not work."

"Not necessarily," said Q'kollan. He turned to Uroddus. "Guildmaster, it is my understanding that the Overlords were able to retrieve the records from the two abandoned Manors."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes. It appears that they serviced only a quarter of the Noble Lords combined. Naturally I was not told any specific counts of how many slaves each one used, but the amounts will vary, surely, so the actual number that could be reached with this technique, if it is true, would be smaller than that."

"As I had surmised."

Uroddus looked thoughtful.

Katla recognized that look at once. "What is it?"

"I am not sure. I feel that I am missing something."

"Wait, you don't think this is actually correct, do you?"

"We have to consider the possibility. Do we even know what the thresholds are?"

Katla sighed. "We need a formula for that, and we can't derive one. That's the point!"

"We might be able to estimate, Mage Q'yoona," said Q'kollan. "That is what Traditionalist magic is about. We do not deal in absolutes."

"Get me that estimation," said Uroddus. He turned to Katla. "Please, I know you and the others are frustrated, but you have to work with the Traditionalists. You have to be willing to give their side merit."

Katla glanced between the two men and sighed. "I'll try, but it's hard."

"But do try. I will contact Overlord Roquan and share our insights with him. Then I will oversee further collaboration myself. Debate is one thing, but inaction will not be tolerated."

Lanno was quite surprised to find that Evella wanted to do something other than straight intercourse that morning. He was astonished when she did it well. Or at least as good as any woman might with some prior practice. By no means was Evella up to the caliber of the slaves of the Manor, but she knew exactly how to apply lips and tongue to make the experience very pleasurable for him. He did not have to coach her at all.

He did not think to warn her until he was nearly over the top. By the time he could form the words, he had already crested. Her lips tightened around his manhood, her tongue massaging it. Only a few drops of his seed trickled down his shaft as she slowly drew back. She closed her lips as the head slipped from her mouth. She tipped her head back and swallowed, then let out her breath as a husky sigh.

"Wow," Lanno breathed.

Evella smiled faintly as she drew alongside him. She was trembling, her sex aching and strained as if someone had already been stroking it. She panted lightly.

Lanno smiled as he drew his arm around her. "At least this excited you as well."

"Oh, yes, of course," she said immediately, trying not to squirm.

"But how did you learn how to do that?"

"Oh, um ... it was just something I picked up."

Lanno looked at her dubiously. "That was not something you just 'pick up,' not when it was that well done."

Evella blushed faintly. "I-I've been having someone ... well, teach me."

Lanno looked surprised. "You have?"

She nodded. "Sirinna."

"Why?"

Evella managed a smile. "So I could please you better, of course."

Lanno sighed. "Now, come on. You're talking like you're going to be doing this for ..."

"Lanno, please, not now. I need you." She writhed as the pressure in her pussy increased.

Lanno nodded. "All right." He smiled again. "And since you were so gracious in what you did for me this morning, I'll return the favor in kind."

"The number of different slaves that a Noble Lord might use over his tenure varies by quite a bit, Guildmaster," said Roquan to Uroddus' Farview image. "It depends on the personality of the Noble Lord. Some crave a constant variety and are forever changing slaves. Some prefer to find a few they like and keep them over a long term contract."

"So there is no 'typical case' then?" asked Uroddus.

"Not really, no."

"What about on average, Overlord? Would you say that it is a fair assumption that a typical Noble Lord might go through half a dozen slaves or more over the course of about ten years?"

Roquan looked thoughtful. "I would have to consult my records, but I would say that is a fair assumption. Those are Lords that tend to prefer young slaves. I use this to my advantage so they will gain experience, then contract them to clients who prefer to keep slaves for longer periods of time, or who prefer the older and experienced slaves."

"What of the slaves of the D'yoran and D'yros Manors? Is there any pattern to them?"

"I have not looked for any. If I may ask, what is this about, Guildmaster?"

"I am not quite sure yet," Uroddus said.

"Is there a further danger to the Noble Lords?" Roquan asked. "Shall I contact Emperor Z'garon?"

"Not as yet. I have only a vague feeling that I am missing something."

"I was assured that all preparations were nearing completion for protecting the Noble Lords."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes, that is all but completed. I am simply wondering if it is enough."

"And you feel these two sets of Manor records will tell you something?"

"I do not wish to impose on you, Overlord, but would you please look again at those records and see if there are any patterns concerning the slaves they owned at the time their Manors were dissolved?"

"I will do what I can to help, but it will be a daunting task. What are you looking for?"

"I wish I could give you more details. Anything that seems noteworthy. I would suggest you seek assistance, Overlord. Preferably someone with a highly associative mind."

Roquan nodded. "Yes, I have someone who would be well-suited for this challenge."

Evella barely managed to contain herself when she began throbbing almost as soon as Lanno's tongue touched her. She let out only a few sharp gasps, her hands clutching the furs of the bed. When it finally relented, she let out a long moan.

She was slow to build to a second one, but Lanno was patient. He seemed to enjoy doing this and did not want to rush it. By the time she was soaring once more, her body quivered for release, her moans escalating into soft cries.

When he finally sent her over, it was not as sharp a climax as the first. This one was more gentle and far more pleasurable. She let out a final moan and went limp as he eased off.

"I hope that did justice to what you did for me," said Lanno with a grin as he came alongside her.

Evella smiled and cupped her hand to his cheek. "Yes, that was very nice, Lanno, thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't stay and snuggle with you, but if I don't get going, I'll be late."

"No, I understand. I'll see you at midday?"

"Of course."

Lanno took her hand and squeezed it before heading away. Evella sat up in bed soon after Lanno had left. She let out a small sigh. That first orgasm must simply have been her own excitement. She had become aroused from his obvious pleasure, and from the excitement that she was doing it right.

Evella stood. She uttered a small gasp as it felt as if her pussy was going to rise again. A breath later, the feeling had already passed. She tentatively took a step forward and nothing happened.

It must have been left over from her second orgasm and nothing more. That had to be it.

"I apologize for taking you away from your Healer duties," said Roquan after he and Amanda had entered his quarters. "But there is an important task I have for you."

"Yes, Master, of course. What is it?"

Roquan picked up a large sheaf of parchments and handed it to Amanda. She looked at the top of the pile. It was like an accountant's sheet, something people once used on her world before the advent of personal computers and spreadsheet programs. Data was arranged in neat columns. She saw names, dates, and numbers.

"This is a Manor Ledger," Roquan explained. "Every Overlord keeps one and uses the exact same format. The first sheets are an inventory of slaves, indicating each one by name and description, her specialties, from where she was acquired and when, when she graduated, and her current disposition." He gestured for Amanda to advance through the stack. "And these sheets record all slave transactions ever done at the Manor. That sheaf is for Gronnus. And this one ..." He placed a hand on another on the desk. " ... is for Freya."

Amanda nodded in understanding. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to look over these records and see if you notice anything unusual."

Amanda tilted her head. She looked from the sheaf in her hands to the one on the desk. "Master, that's a lot of data. What am I looking for?"

"I am not sure. I would suggest looking for any patterns."

"But patterns in what? And what is this for, Master?"

"I will answer the second question first," said Roquan. "I have been asked to do this by the Guildmaster of the Mages. It has to do with the protection that was arranged for the Noble Lords."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Master, is there something about that I should know? You told me the threat was more or less over."

"The Noble Lords will likely be safe should anything happen. But this new Guildmaster, I suspect, is a perfectionist. He wishes to make sure he has covered everything."

"So, I should concentrate on what Lords they were assigned to?"

"Yes, but do not limit yourself to that. See if anything else appears to you."

Amanda looked at the sheaf in her hands. "I'll try, Master, but this is going to take me all day."

"Yes, I know. Take as much time as you need."

Amanda looked up. "Master, are you sure there isn't anything to worry about?"

Roquan's expression softened. "I highly doubt that I can ever say that there is nothing to worry about, Amanda. But I would not become alarmed. Things are turning for the better in Oceanus. Emperor Z'garon has the full loyalty of both the legions and the fleets. Most of the major nations have recognized the Z'garon Imperium as the valid governing body of Oceanus."

Amanda nodded, then paused. "Most?"

"The last I had heard, only the Urisi had not yet sent word, but it is likely a formality."

Amanda nodded again, though more slowly. "All right, Master, I'll get started at once."

"You may use my desk. I have provided fresh parchments and quills if you need to take notes."

Amanda reached for one of the quill pens with some bemusement. She had never used one before. In fact, it was only now that she realized she had not actually written so much as a single word since she had arrived on Narlass.

"I will be making rounds about the Manor today, a duty I have neglected for far too long. Please come find me if you need me."

"Yes, Master."

Amanda picked up the first parchment as Roquan left. If there was ever a time I wished Narlass had the magical equivalent of computers, this is it, she thought as she started to pore over the data.

Jollis lingered for a moment in the deepening dusk, watching as the men walked off the vast grassy field under the watchful eye of their gray-haired and wise War Master. Every movement of these elite warriors was observed and assessed. Even their gait as they left the Field of War was watched with a critical eye. None were allowed to lower their preparedness for even a moment. They were expected not simply to look alert, but to be alert.

Which the War Master decided to put to a test.

As the last of the warriors passed, their backs to him, he turned towards the far end of the field and gestured. Suddenly, men in armor and swords raced onto the field, converging fast on the retreating warriors. Without breaking stride, at least one dozen of the warriors in the rearmost ranks turned to meet the threat.

It would seem to be no match. Swords against simple wooden staffs. Yet in the first few breaths, half the attackers had been disarmed. Where parts of the body were visible, blunt blows were delivered with the side of the staff. Where there was not, lightning jabs with the end of the staff pierced armor. And now a second contingent of warriors were rushing to their aid to finish the battle.

But the War Master had more in store for them. From above a low hill, archers rose and fired at the approaching reinforcements. Staffs were spun, a light charge of magic flowing through them, transforming them into temporary shields. Arrows broke and shattered as they struck.

Several warriors launched their staffs like javelins. Each one found a mark, penetrating armor and sending an attacking archer falling back behind the hill and out of the battle. In a few more heartbeats, the battle was over. The Inonni warriors had not a single casualty. Moreover, while the "enemy" lay defeated, not a single one had been killed.

The War Master nodded in approval. "Well done. Well done indeed."

The warriors bowed as one and left the field. Healers trotted across the grass to treat the wounded "attackers." The archers that had been hit now staggered to their feet wincing in pain. The warriors had used the perfect amount of force on their staves. It had penetrated armor, but not quite the flesh. The impact, however, would leave them with severe bruises and cracked ribs.

Jollis smiled and turned from the field. He walked through an opening flanked by tall columns and entered the shrine.

He found Master Kyllos kneeling before the stature of a god at the other end of the elegant hall. Torches burned bright red, the color of war, all along the walls of the shrine. Kyllos finished his prayer and rose to greet him.

"I am most impressed, Master Kyllos," said Jollis softly. "They use moves that I do not even comprehend."

"It is a very ancient discipline, my Wanderer," said Kyllos. "We felt it was best for our plans."

"Yes, it makes perfect sense. Subdue without killing. Minimal violence for maximum effect."

"Which is something that you practice all the time, Jollis. You are not so different from them after all."

Jollis bowed his head deeply. "You honor me, Master. Perhaps more than I deserve."

Kyllos placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's have none of that. You have done very well. You have brought us down a long road. In less than a day we will see the results of your labors."

"I am excited, Master. But worried as well."

Kyllos paused. "About Amanda?"

"Not for our warriors. After what I have just witnessed, I would trust them with my life. It is the fleet that still sits outside the Manor that has me concerned."

Kyllos nodded. "We will be taking care of that."

"But I suspect you will not be able to use such compassionate techniques."

The Elder sighed. "It is most distasteful, yes. We hope to craft the initial assault to convince them of the futility of opposing us. And we will be catching them unawares."

"And what of the Noble Lords, Master? Will they be convinced as well? Or will they attempt a counterattack?"

Kyllos looked thoughtful. "That will depend on the wisdom of their new Emperor. He was quite daring and bold to move against the Imperium as he did. But there is a fine line between boldness and foolishness. It is hoped that he understands where that is."

"Will he be allowed to stay in power?"

"That is our hope. He has the ability to calm and rally the people. He will have to see that it is in their best interest, if peace and civility is to be maintained." Kyllos smiled. "Remember, we are seeking to bring enlightenment, not conquest."

"They will see the two as indistinguishable, Master."

"At first, yes. But it is hoped in time that this will fade."

"It seems that no matter how long a road we have already traveled, the road ahead seems even longer."

"But what is important, Jollis, is that we continue to move in the same direction along that road: forward."

Jollis smiled. "If you will excuse me, Master? I need to perform one more task now that we are set. I must inform my contact in the Urisi Nation."

Kyllos nodded once. "Come attend devotions with me after twilight, if you would."

"I will, Master. We will pray for our success." He bowed to his Master reverently and left.

"Lord Tarras, I need to make a formal request of you in accordance with the Charter."

Tarras regarded the Farview image of the Emperor curiously and nodded once.

"I have need to temporarily integrate the men you provided for my army into the Imperial legions," said Duric.

Tarras paused in his reply. He noted how very much like an Emperor Duric now looked. It was not simply that he had finally donned the flowing cloak that was the symbol of his office, but the commanding way in which he carried himself. This was more how had pictured a strong, effective Emperor. Z'haas never had such a look. "I will grant the request, of course, but I am curious as to why."

"To be honest, I am not completely sure myself. I feel as if there is something wrong, but I cannot put my finger on it."

"Have you stood down any of the existing Imperial legions, my Emperor?"

"Not yet."

Tarras nodded gravely. "I imagine that is a bit of a strain on the men."

"Many were disappointed, yes, though they are grateful for not having a war to fight. At least at the moment."

Tarras' eyebrows rose. "At the moment?"

"The truth is, Tarras, the delay in recognition of my claim to the throne from the Urisi is disturbing. Perhaps I am jumping at shadows, but ..."

"No, I would say that the fact that they have yet to respond is a cause for some concern."

"This is all a mystery to me. I had even offered to repudiate the trade treaty that they made with Z'haas. The terms were so unfair to the Urisi that it was appalling."

Tarras nodded. "I cannot imagine why the Urisi would agree to enter into such a thing."

Duric's face darkened. "Unless they supported Z'haas and consider me to be an enemy."

Tarras shook his head. "I sincerely doubt that. It would not be in the Urisi's best interest to be enemies with Oceanus. Not when our navy can pulverize their ships and their coastlines."

Duric frowned. "I would never do such a thing unless they actively engaged in open warfare with us."

Tarras smiled. "I know that perfectly well, my Emperor, but the Urisi do not. It is best to leave them in ignorance. That is how a powerful nation maintains the peace." Tarras looked thoughtful. "I am thinking that this is likely some sort of oversight. Or simply some political posturing. They may feel a need to 'put you in your place' after their awful dealings with Z'haas, a way of flexing their political muscle in a reasonably safe fashion."

Duric smirked. "In other words, don't make any waves, and wait until they deign to acknowledge my presence."

"Exactly. But keeping the Imperial legions intact for the moment is a wise move. Though do not carry it too far."

Duric was already nodding. "I know, I know. Eventually the shine will wear off and the Noble Lords will start treating me as a rival for influence. I intend to put a stop to that thinking eventually, so you know."

"Oh, I agree, my Emperor, but it will be an uphill battle."

Duric grinned. "It seems my whole life has been that for the past two seasons. Anyway, thank you for your advice. I can only hope that Lord Uras' advice is as sound, or at least as non-bombastic."

Tarras smiled. "I would not count on that."

Duric laughed. "Good day to you, Lord Tarras."

"Good day to you, Emperor Z'garon."

Norlan tugged at his clothing in one last and ultimately vain attempt to smooth out the remaining wrinkles in his formal wear. Ultimately, it did not matter, for it would be his words and not his appearance that would capture their attention. Or not, as the case may be.

He passed under the soaring archway that led into the Grand Wing of the High Lords of the Urisi Royal Palace, marching with deliberate purpose through the wide hall, past the tall columns as the images of noteworthy High Lords inscribed upon them looked down in haughty disdain. At the other end of the hall were the grand, gilded doors that led to the High Lord Council Chamber. Two guards stood at attention on either side, carrying long, largely ceremonial lances, intended more for show than defense.

About halfway down the hallway, Norlan was aware of running footsteps behind him. He ignored it, keeping his stride steady, holding his head up confidently. Finally, in a mad scramble, the feet caught up to him and brought their owner before him. A hand pressed into Norlan's chest and forced him to stop.

"You are quite in the way," said Norlan in a bored voice.

"And just what are you doing here of all places, Norlan?" demanded Mandas.

"I was not aware that I needed to report my presence to you or my reasons therein. Now if you will excuse me ..."

He tried to edge past Mandas, but was stopped again. "What business do you have with the High Lords?"

"And how is that even remotely your concern?"

"I could call the Royal Guard. I could have you thrown out!"

Norlan sighed. "I have not been banned from court, Mandas. My absence was largely self-imposed. You would have no basis to have me thrown out."

"I could make a case!" Mandas insisted. "I have influence here, you do not! That is why those silly rumors that I am sure you tried to start will ultimately gain no traction."

Norlan raised an eyebrow and attempted to look uninterested. "Rumors, you say?"

Mandas frowned. "Yes, very ugly little rumors that I am somehow partially to blame for that travesty of a treaty you did with the Oceanus Overlords. That I am trying to interfere with the business of the High Lords!"

Norlan smiled. "In that case, Mandas, it would very much behoove you to step out of my way. I could very well be on vital business for the High Lords. Wouldn't want to be seen as interfering with that, now would you?"

Mandas glowered. "I loathe you, Norlan. You are an uncultured peasant."

"Really? When was the last time you spoke before the High Lords?"

Mandas laughed. "Like they are about to let you do that! You are truly a fool."

Norlan thrust a hand out and forcibly swept Mandas aside. He continued his march towards the doors. Just as he got there, the guards followed tradition and protocol and crossed lances before him. Mandas smirked.

"Please inform High Lord Ardon that former Ambassador Norlan wishes to speak with him," said Norlan evenly.

The lances were uncrossed. One guard stepped forward. "Yes, my Lord, we were informed that you may ask for him. Please follow me to the audience chamber."

Mandas' smirk faded as Norlan was led inside. He turned away and stalked off.

"Amanda."

Amanda gasped and nearly bolted out of her chair.

"My apologies," said Roquan as he stepped fully inside.

Amanda let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair, glancing towards the window. "It's okay, Master." She blinked and glanced at the window. "Is it midday already?"

"Yes. Have you been at this all morning?"

Amanda nodded. She picked up a parchment on which she had been writing notes. "I haven't come up with anything yet, Master. It's so much data to look through. This may be too big a task."

"Again, take whatever time you need. I am admittedly at a loss myself as to what the Guildmaster expects to find. You have noticed nothing unusual?"

"Not really. Well, I do have a question. Are most of your slaves from off-world, Master?"

"Yes. I do sometimes buy from other Overlords. Sirinna is a perfect example. But this is the exception rather than the rule."

"What about other Overlords?"

"It is about the same for all of them. Procuring fresh Captives keeps their stock of slaves varied and increases client interest."

Amanda glanced down at her notes. "Then that's kind of funny, because Gronnus seemed to get nearly all his slaves from other Overlords."

Roquan raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

Amanda nodded. She picked up another parchment. "Freya's looks more like what you described. In fact, she rarely buys from other Overlords at all. She even noted the Narlassi slaves as coming from off-world. Though she wasn't very subtle about it. She claimed some were from 'Sarlanis' and some from 'Ras Snali.' They're both anagrams of 'Narlassi.'"

Roquan frowned. "Forging a Manor Ledger is a high offense, though it pales in comparison to everything else she has done. I am not at all surprised. And what you have discovered about Gronnus should be no surprise, either. It is little wonder now that he was in financial straits. His pool of slaves was stale."

Amanda held back a retort at the idea of people being considered "stale."

"It is midday, Amanda. Please take a break and return when you are fresh."

Amanda nodded and stood. She glanced at the page once more. "Master, how many Overlords are there? Or were, I should say?"

"Fifteen. Why?"

Amanda counted under her breath as she looked at her notes. "... twelve ... thirteen ... fourteen. I think you're right about Gronnus, Master. It seems like he has slaves purchased from every single Overlord." She looked up at Roquan. "I'll be back after the midday meal and keep looking through all this."

"Of course. You may go."

Amanda smiled faintly and left.

Roquan gazed at the parchment and picked it up. He did his own silent count of the names. He sighed and shook his head, letting the parchment flutter back to the desk.

Evella gripped the edge of the counter behind her, fingers trembling and knuckles turning white. Her thighs quivered as moisture seeped into her undergarment. I'm just getting excited at what I'm watching, she thought desperately. That's all it is.

On one of the treatment tables, a slave lay squirming and moaning in earnest. Her pussy throbbed in a near continuous orgasm, her folds glistening brightly. There was a faint squishing sound while Lanno's fingers worked the girl's sex with firm, penetrating strokes as he applied the Kaylaxxa salve.

"Just a little more and I'll be done," Lanno said with a smile.

The slave panted heavily, then gasped and arched her back as she went over again.

Evella bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Stop it. No more.

But even without seeing what was transpiring, the unwanted pleasure rose in her own sex, her womanhood tingling madly. She slid her feet apart, trying to relieve the pressure to no avail. Her undergarment felt plastered to her folds, which only added to the stimulation.

Lanno finally withdrew his fingers from the slave's sex and stood up. "There we go, all done."

"Th-thank you, Master La ..." The slave's words were lost in another paroxysm of pleasure.

Lanno grinned as he wiped off his hand with a towel. "Just lie there quietly for a bit."

The slave nodded and suddenly tensed. She let out a loud moan as another orgasm swept over her.

Lanno picked up the vial of salve and glanced behind him. "Evella?"

Her eyes flew open and she gasped. Her own muscles tensed as she seemed to strain at the edge as well. "Huh?"

"Can you put this away for me? I need to do a health check on her hair and skin."

Evella swallowed and nodded. She started across the room, her gait shaky as the movement of her thighs made the sensations in her sex flare again.

"Are you all right?" Lanno asked as she approached.

Evella forced a smile as she took the salve. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Lanno did not say a word, but his gaze lingered on her as she turned and started away.

Please, don't. Please, no, not again, not now ... not ...

"Urrrgh!" Evella's hand trembled. The vial fell and shattered on the floor. She let out a cry and fell to her knees, trembling as her pussy throbbed so hard that her hips jerked.

Lanno was at her side a breath later, dropping to one knee and wrapping an arm around her. "Evella! Evella, what's wrong? Are you ill?"

Evella panted hard as her climax overwhelmed her for a few more moments. "N-no, I ... I-I'm fine ... I just ... "

A shadow fell over her. "She is most decidedly not fine," said Vanlo.

Lanno jerked his head up. "What are you talking about?"

Vanlo reached down and took Evella's hand. "Slowly now, or it may repeat itself."

Lanno gave the elder Healer a perplexed look, but rose with Evella without saying a word. Evella was still panting, though not as heavily as before. Her orgasm had already faded, leaving behind an unpleasant ache in her sex. She blinked a few times, her cheeks burning and damp with silent tears.

"What's going on?" Lanno demanded.

"Do you wish to tell him?" Vanlo asked Evella.

Evella sniffled and shook her head. She cast her eyes downward, tears dripping to the floor. Lanno drew his arm around her shoulders. "Evella, what is it?"

"She had a spontaneous orgasm, Lanno," Vanlo said.

Lanno looked up. "Huh?"

"A spontaneous orgasm. One that comes from abusing an improperly formulated sexual enhancement drug."

Lanno gaped. "What? But she ..."

Evella buried her face in Lanno's chest and sobbed.

Lanno looked stricken, then let out a long sigh as he hugged Evella. "Gods, Evella, why did you do that? Why couldn't you wait?"

Evella shook and cried harder.

"Lanno, please take her to your quarters and put her to bed for now," Vanlo said.

"Can't you do anything for her?"

"I may be able to do something, but I do not need her here to treat her. When you get her to your quarters, find her supply of the drug and confiscate it at once. I will not tolerate this self-abuse anywhere that I am a Healer."

Lanno let out a forlorn sigh. "Yes, of course, Vanlo."

For the first time since becoming Guildmaster, Uroddus felt he had accomplished something positive.

It didn't take much effort on his part, to his surprise. Whenever debate devolved into shouting, he intervened immediately and offered a sharp critique on the point about which one side or the other was being obstinate. When the same points came up again and again, he called attention to the futility of continuing to argue them. He spared no one, even calling Katla to task on more than one occasion.

Soon it got to the point where there was only debate and collaboration, even if occasionally heated. But work got done.

Q'kollan took Uroddus aside as a break was called in the later afternoon. "Very well done. You presence was what was needed all along."

"I had hoped it would not be. I am rather surprised it was this effective."

"That is because you are now seen as a strong, decisive, and most of all, even-handed Guildmaster."

"They did not appear very happy with me, however."

Q'kollan smiled mildly. "Of course not. But they respect you. That is far more important. They will be far more willing to follow your lead now. You simply cannot be a Guildmaster if you want everyone to like you."

Uroddus smiled faintly. "Has anyone managed to make progress on my request earlier?"

"Some. Realize that everything we are doing now is based on wild guesses in some cases. Educated wild guesses, mind you, but still guesses. Based on what we know or can intuit, we believe it would take about five to eleven people with similar memories to trigger this additional effect."

Uroddus considered. "That is a rather wide range."

"Granted, but it is the best we can do at the moment. So, do these numbers mean anything to you?"

"According to Overlord Roquan, the average number of different slaves that a typical Noble Lord would have over the course of a decade would fall into that range, albeit the very low end."

Q'kollan nodded, looking thoughtful. "So you do fear an additional danger to the Noble Lords."

"Yes, but the exact nature of it eludes me. It is my understanding now that a typical Noble Lord will contract from multiple Overlords. No one Overlord would necessarily have provided that many slaves, and we know that the slaves from at least one and at most two were taken by this foreign agent."

"So we may have nothing to worry about."

"Perhaps. Just the same, I will contact Roquan and see if he has discovered anything from the records of those two Manors."

Evella was still teary-eyed when she finally fished her remaining vials of the drug from the locker and handed them to a surprised Lanno.

"Hellfire, that was clever of you," Lanno said with a smirk. "I would never have thought to look in there."

Evella smiled faintly, but then broke down into soft sobbing again.

Lanno hugged her. "Evella, I'm sorry about all this ..."

She shook her head against his chest. "I'm the one that made all the mistakes, Lanno. I'm the one that destroyed my own life."

"You didn't destroy anything, you just ..."

She drew back from him, anger flashing in her eyes. "Yes I did! You took that drug from me, and I don't think Vanlo will make even the balanced one for me now. It will wear off and I'll be ashamed over all this sex I had, and then I'll have nothing!"

"How can you say that? You're still a Healer!"

"A Healer who abuses drugs! A Healer that helps enslave Narlassi! No, just stop it, Lanno. I don't want to hear it anymore. I can't be a Healer again. Not after all this. All I'm good for now is to be someone's property, a plaything."

Lanno frowned. "All right, fine! Don't be a Healer. But that doesn't mean you have to be a slave. You can still find something else to do. Stop selling yourself short."

"Lanno, I told you, stop it, you don't ..."

"No, you stop it!" Lanno shouted. "I'm tired of this. You worry about the Guild Hall coming down on you. You worry about Vanlo not trusting you. Hellfire, you worry about pleasing me. You're the one putting yourself down, not anyone else."

Evella looked stricken and could only stare, her eyes shimmering.

"You want to hear something strange? You want to hear something really bizarre? I'll tell you. I thought maybe once I was in love with you."

Evella's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"That's right. The same guy that would chase anything with nicely-shaped breasts and long legs thought he was in love with you. Hellfire, I might have even hoped that you coming here would rekindle that. But you know what? That's not what I was in love with. I was in love with what you represented."

"What?" Evella blurted.

"You represented everything that I wished I was, Evella, when I was at the Guild Hall. You were studious, a hard worker, incredibly intelligent, and most of all, dedicated. I was none of those things. Vanlo was right all along. I came out of that Guild Hall with a Mastership not knowing half of what I thought I knew. He was right to bust me down to Journeyman, because that is really where I am!"

"Wh-why are you telling me all this?" Evella cried, her eyes tearing again.

"Because I don't want you to be stupid like I was!" Lanno bellowed. "I don't want you to take all that and throw it away! I don't want you falling off the pedestal I put you on!"

Evella was struck speechless. Then, slowly, the anger returned to her eyes and escalated into raw fury. "Well, I am so sorry for not living up to your expectations. I'm so sorry I turned out not to be the person you supposedly idolized. I didn't ask to be on your pedestal! I didn't even ask you to contact me again! Maybe it would've been better if you didn't, then I'd just be Freya's good little slave and wouldn't have to deal with any of this!"

Her voice had risen to a scream. Lanno paused and let out a deep sigh. "No, Evella, my mistake was not in contacting you again," he said in a somewhat calmer voice. "It was ever agreeing to pander to this idea of you being my slave. No more, Evella. I won't have any part of it anymore."

Evella's lower lip trembled. Soon the anger rose again, and she clenched her hands into fists. "Fine! I'll go somewhere else. I'll ... I'll go to Sirinna."

"I didn't say you had to leave, just that ..."

"No, forget it, Lanno. If you're not willing to help me, I won't have anything to do with you. I was right to spurn your advances at the Guild Hall. You don't care about anyone but yourself!"

Lanno clenched his teeth hard to hold back a retort until his jaw hurt.

For a moment, Evella looked almost disappointed that Lanno had said nothing in reply. Finally, she let out a breath. "Goodbye, Lanno." She turned away and stormed out of the room.

Lanno stood there for a few moments longer, as if unable to decide what to do. Finally he reached into his pocket and pulled out the remaining vials of drug. With a snarl, he pitched the vials across the room. They struck a table in the far corner of the room and shattered, splattering oily potion over table, wall, and floor. He collapsed into a chair with a long, frustrated sigh.

Amanda was exhausted. She had not only worked through the afternoon, but came back after the evening meal as well. But she was finally done. She set down the quill and rubbed the ache in her wrist.

She almost wished she were not done. She was not happy with Evella staying with her and Sirinna. She preferred her moments with Sirinna to be private. She made a point to talk to Lanno about it in the morning.

"You have finished?"

Amanda turned her head. "Yes, Master, finally."

Roquan stepped forward and picked up the parchments that Amanda had been writing. "I see you tallied numbers of clients that used the same slaves, numbers of different slaves to clients, numbers of ... hmm ... number of slaves bought from each Overlord?"

"Well, it was the only really unusual pattern in there, Master, from what you told me, so I included that."

Roquan nodded. "Very well done, Amanda. It is most appreciated."

Amanda's eyes flitted up and down Roquan's frame, noticing now that he was dressed in only his robe. "Master, would it be okay if I went back to my quarters? I'm really tired."

"Of course, Amanda. I need to speak with the Guildmaster anyway."

Amanda nodded. She trotted to the door, then paused and turned. "Master, do you think there is anything in there that ... well, that means anything?"

"I am not sure I follow you."

"Do I have anything to worry about, Master?"

Roquan glanced at the parchment. "I do not see why you would."

Amanda slowly nodded. While she did not think that Roquan was holding something back, she still felt as if she were not getting the whole story.

No, this is silly, she thought. Stop being paranoid. It's over. Even if Jollis ...

She stopped that line of thought at once. Precautions had been taken. Everything would be fine. She had to believe that. "Thank you, Master," Amanda said, and slipped out the door.

Uroddus frowned. "Every Overlord?"

"Yes, every one," said Roquan's Farview image. "Gronnus was not one to exert himself very much to accomplish his business aims."

"And do we know how many he sold to Jollis?"

"Unfortunately, he chose not to record those transactions." Roquan raised an eyebrow. "Is this a problem?"

"Would it be possible for you to speak with the other Overlords?"

"When? And about what?"

"As soon as possible. And about ... a possible threat."

Behind him, Katla and Q'kollan exchanged a glance.

Roquan hesitated, then spoke in a grave voice. "Guildmaster, you are not suggesting that the Manors are in some sort of danger now?"

"I am simply trying to cover all angles in this situation."

"The Manors offer no political or military advantage. I would hardly see how any sort of action against them would make sense."

Uroddus was silent for a long, pregnant moment. Finally, he nodded. "Conventional wisdom says as such, yes. But nothing in the past moon has been anything close to conventional. If my ascendancy to the Guildmastership has not proven that, nothing will. Overlord, would you consent to a visit from me at your Manor tomorrow morning?"

Roquan looked surprised. "That would be an unprecedented honor, Guildmaster. You have permission to use my Portal as your focus."

"Thank you. I will see you then."

Roquan nodded, then paused. "Should I be taking any other precautions in the meantime?"

"I will leave that up to you. Good day, Overlord."

"Good day, Guildmaster." Roquan's image faded out.

Katla stepped forward. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it," she said darkly.

"But disturbingly within the range of possibilities," said Q'kollan.

"You don't know that! Hellfire, if only we could nail down more of the equations, we'd know if we're just blowing smoke or ..."

"No arguing about this, please," Uroddus said.

"But, Uroddus, an attack on the Manors?" Katla said incredulously.

"To secure them and their supply of slaves, with which they can, in turn, use their combined memories to target the Noble Lords, aided by the detailed Manor Ledgers that would indicate exactly which slave was contracted to which client and for how long."

Katla was speechless. Q'kollan let out a distressed sigh.

"Have our best Portal powered for my trip in the morning," said Uroddus. "I will discuss the matter in more detail then with Roquan and his immediate allies."

"You better be wrong on this," Katla said. "You better be dead wrong."

"You cannot imagine how much I hope for the exact same thing," said Uroddus in a tired voice.

The Manor slept in silent darkness. Soon the first light of pre-dawn would steal across the sky, turning the skies from black to deep velvet. Then another day would begin.

Halfway around the world, a day had already long since begun. Now, huge devices of Portal mastery sat arrayed at regular intervals across the Field of War. Golden power throbbed from these great engines, and streams of blue-white energy sparked in faint spheres around them. Thick contingents of warriors gathered in rigidly organized regiments about each Portal. Each remained at attention, standing ramrod straight and absolutely still, as if the field were filled with statues.

No slaves were in attendance. Judging the crowds and the great Portals to be too intimidating, The Inonni had seen to it that they contributed what was needed for the Portals earlier that day. All that was required was the final word.

Standing between the columns of the shrine stood Jollis and the War Master. Finally, a third figure emerged from behind them. The War Master turned. He nodded to Master Kyllos and raised his hand.

There was a low sound, like deep thunder, that swept across the fields as the Portals were powered into their final sequence. Deep blue energy swelled and surged, forming more solid spheres about the golden power cores.

Both the War Master and Jollis turned towards Kyllos as he stopped between them.

"Your word, Master?" asked Jollis, his voice one of barely contained excitement.

Kyllos paused and let his gaze sweep across the field. He nodded. "Let it begin."

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