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Subject: {ASSM} Conclave of Conspiracy 09/33 (MF Mf mf Ff ff Mdom Fdom toys bd rom magic oral 1st spank)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter09.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: Conclave of Conspiracy
Universe: Narlass Chronicles
Summary: Roquan hosts a Conclave to rally support against the Emperor;
Amanda's training is not what she expected, even less so when the
Conclave commences. And there is the mysterious foreign merchant ...

Part: 9 of 33
Keywords: MF, Mf, mf, Ff, ff, Mdom, Fdom, toys, bd, rom, magic, oral,
1st, spank

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2006

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

/~A_Strange_Geek/novels/Conclave/Chapter09.html



---------------

"I fear I may need to tender my resignation, your Lordship."

Roquan looked up from the accounting parchment he was perusing and
stared in confusion at his Healer. "Is this a joke, Vanlo?"

Vanlo straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. "I wish it
were. However, I feel that events of late have convinced me that I am
aging past the point of usefulness to this Manor. If you wish, I can
suggest a few colleagues from the Healer Guild that would serve as a
suitable ..."

"Stop."

Vanlo fell silent, giving his Overlord an even look.

Roquan threw down his quill and leaned back in his chair. "Vanlo ...
/what/ are you talking about? You look as fit as you did a moon ago. Or
a year ago, for that matter."

"Good of you to say, your Lordship. However, it is not my body that
matters in my profession, but my mind, and I fear it is no longer
sound."

"That's ridiculous."

Vanlo allowed himself a small smile. "As always, your Lordship, your
faith in me in certain matters exceeds that of my own. But the truth
remains, my mind is not what it was, and it can get only worse from
here."

Roquan folded his arms. "And how did you come to this conclusion?"

"Simply this: you have had the Portal serviced, have you not?"

"Yes. And?"

Vanlo sensed the impatience in the Overlord's voice. "I should not,
therefore, be having any further incidents of sensing Portal energies."

"And I seem to recall that you did not."

"Yes, your Lordship, until yesterday."

Roquan rose to his feet. "You sensed it again?" he asked in an urgent
voice.

"Yes, I have, and stronger than I had before, which can only mean that
I am ..."

"How close to the Manor do you think it was?"

Vanlo paused and looked at the Overlord with a small, humorless grin.

"Well? How close?"

"We do not appear to be on the same parchment of the scroll, your
Lordship," Vanlo said patiently. "Allow me to be more direct: these
sensations are clearly phantoms of my mind."

Roquan frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"It stands to reason, your Lordship. The idea that Portals are opening
randomly about the countryside near the Manor makes no sense. Your
Portal is clearly functioning properly. This can only mean that my
mental faculties are failing. For magic-sensitives such as me, phantom
sensations are an early sign of senility."

Roquan drew in a deep breath. "I don't accept that."

Vanlo gave another tiny smile. "Overlords can command many things. But
ordering an aging and increasingly decrepit body to restore itself to
the vigor of youth is beyond your capabilities, I am afraid. But the
sentiment is appreciated."

"Vanlo, stop talking nonsense!" Roquan declared, stepping away from
him. "I do not have time for this! The Merchant Clan will be here in
days, and the Conclave on the heels of that. Do not burden me with
this."

"It is hardly a choice for either you or me to make ..."

"Like hellfire it isn't. Resignation rejected. Get back to work."

Vanlo did not move.

Roquan turned around. "Well?"

For the first time since Roquan had known him, his Healer appeared at a
loss for words, and his expression was anything other than calm. When
he spoke, Roquan was taken aback by the emotion in his voice. "Your
Lordship, I am ... quite honored and flattered ... that you believe my
services of such value."

"You're the best Healer that this Manor ever had, Vanlo."

Vanlo took a deep breath. It was the first time the Overlord had ever
so openly voiced his praise for him. Vanlo always knew tacitly that his
work was appreciated, but it was out of character for the Overlord to
pronounce it so clearly. Roquan had indeed undergone many changes since
the first of many ills had descended upon him. It made Vanlo's decision
all that harder.

"Vanlo, did you consider the possibility that you are sensing Portal
energies because a Portal is indeed in use?"

Vanlo hesitated before answering. "Naturally, this crossed my mind, as
it would be foolish of me not to consider all possibilities."

"I would prefer that one to the idea that you are losing your
abilities."

"As would I, your Lordship."

Roquan stepped up to his Healer. "Then humor me, Vanlo. Entertain the
notion again. How close would the Portal have been?"

Vanlo paused, taking another deep breath to clear his mind. "It is very
hard to judge, even if my faculties ..."

"A rough estimate will suffice," Roquan cut in.

"Not very far. Most likely on this island."

Roquan's eyes became ice as they shifted away from his Healer. "And now
what is the Emperor up to?"

"Your Lordship?"

"It stands to reason, Vanlo. He is attempting to disrupt this
Conclave."

Vanlo stroked his beard. "Forgive me, but is that not a rather large
conclusion to jump to on scant evidence?"

"Z'haas is not a stupid man. He knows of the Conclave. We are fools if
we believe that the Emperor will sit idly by as plans are drawn up
against him."

"That may be true, your Lordship, but ..."

"Nothing else makes sense! He is the only one with the resources to
open Portals of that nature on demand. He has already shown a
willingness to bastardize the slave trade. I would not put it past him
to bastardize this as well."

"That would imply that we have another Imperial agent on the island
focusing the Portal energies with an appropriately enchanted pearl,"
Vanlo pointed out. "And yet, what would this accomplish?"

Roquan raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Consider: A Portal could not be used to bring an agent to the island,
for it requires a pearl as a focus, lest he risk being dropped in open
ocean, in a tree, or some other dangerous place. Thus the agent would
need to be here already. In which case, what is the point of opening
the Portal?"

"To send something back," the Overlord said darkly.

"Then the Manor is safe. The wards in place will alert you if someone
brings a pearl onto the premises imbued with such magic. Thus, again,
we are left with the original question of why open such a Portal in the
first place? There is no logical reason for it. You see, your Lordship,
I have already thought of these ideas. You see why I rejected them, and
came to the conclusion that I did about my mind."

Roquan sighed deeply. He still refused to accept it. He felt Vanlo was
too important a part of this Manor to give up without a fight. Even if
that fight was with Vanlo himself.

"Vanlo, I was quite serious when I stated that my time is limited. I
cannot afford to take time to review suitable candidates for your
replacement. Surely, even if your mind is deteriorating, it cannot be
doing so at such a pace that you cannot execute your duties until the
Conclave is over."

Vanlo considered this thoughtfully before he spoke again. "And,
naturally, you will not use that time to convince me to change my mind
about resigning."

Roquan allowed himself a small smile. "Of course not, Vanlo."

Vanlo grinned. "You are a horrible liar, your Lordship."



A small smile came to Sirinna's lips as she watched her Trainee from a
short distance away. She held the girl's cuffs and chain in her hands,
having left Amanda unfettered for this session. She also left her with
no specific commands or tasks, and simply sent her into a bevy of other
slaves that Sirinna had gathered. It was up to Amanda to find ways to
please them.

To Sirinna's satisfaction, Amanda was doing quite well. To her
surprise, the girl appeared to be enjoying it as well.

Amanda was on all fours. Her body rocked back and forth as one of the
male slaves took her from behind. He gripped her hips fast in his
strong hands, moving her at his own desired pace and rhythm. Amanda
simply gave into it, panting through her nose as her mouth slid up and
down a second slave's cock. Under her, a female slave let her fingers
gently stroke Amanda's womanhood as her sex moved back and forth over
the slave's hand.

As Sirinna watched, another female slave poured cool water over
Amanda's back and head. Other slaves similarly attended to the males.
Amanda moaned in relief. It would have been unbearably hot that
afternoon without this bit of occasional refreshment. The coolness of
the water made her nipples harden and rise. The female slave under her
took advantage of it, tugging at them with her fingers.

"Mmmrrgh..." Amanda moaned in earnest, her breath growing shorter as
she slowly rose.

Behind her, the slave let his breath go as a deep sigh. His body tensed
as he stepped up the pace, until he was pounding into her. Amanda's
head bobbed up and down on the other slave's cock in a frenzy at her
rising excitement.

"Easy, Amanda," Sirinna said. "Not too fast. Don't let it run away with
you."

Amanda closed her eyes and struggled to rein herself in. She still
could not believe she had reached this point. While she still did not
crave sex as the other slaves did, once she was able to get herself
motivated and get into it, she was better able to just lose herself to
it. It was the easiest way to cope and to perform as a slave was
expected to perform,

The slave behind her groaned in earnest and tilted his head back as he
came. He slammed himself forward, and let himself pulse hard inside
her. The slave under her stroked her clitoris faster and faster, and it
was everything she could do to keep herself focused.

"Mmmrr ... /mrrruuuhh!/"

Amanda's closed her eyes tightly and nearly fell forward as her pussy
throbbed. She remembered herself when the cock in her mouth suddenly
shoved far into her, almost making her gag. She pulled back quickly,
her body shaking as she orgasmed. She was still cumming even after the
slave behind her withdrew, some of his seed trickling down the inside
of one of her thighs.

Sirinna smiled despite the bit of clumsiness on the part of her
Trainee. Now the girl's sensuality was really shining through.

Amanda sensed the change in the slave in front of her even before he
started to groan loudly. She reached up and grabbed the base of his
cock with her hand and pumped her mouth furiously on his shaft. He
uttered several loud moans in a row before his cock erupted in her
mouth. Amanda moaned as she was finally let down from her orgasm, and
she could concentrate again on the finale. She drew herself closer to
him and slowed her movements as he softened in her mouth. She milked a
last few drops from him with her tongue, even bringing a small gasp
from him and one more weak pulse from his cock.

Amanda let him fall from his lips and swallowed. Her eyes dropped as
she panted, her body momentarily weak.

"That was very good, Amanda," Sirinna said as she rushed to her
Trainee's side, placing a hand over one of the girl's shoulders.
"You've really learned a lot in a short amount of time."

Amanda was still catching her breath. "Oh my ... th-thank you,
mistress."

Sirinna smiled. "Are you all right?"

Amanda swallowed and nodded. "Yes ... it was just ... a little
intense." She paused, and then slowly rose to her feet. A slave handed
her a goblet of water, half of which she drank down greedily, the other
half she upended over her head. "And it's hot. The water helped,
though."

"Master Roquan always makes sure his slaves don't overheat in the
summer."

"Good. It must get really hot here in July ... um, I mean, in
midsummer." Amanda looked down at her arm, and then glanced over at the
rest of her body. "Mistress, can I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"I only just realized this. I've been out in the tropical sun for some
time. How come I'm not tan? Or you or any of the other slaves for that
matter?"

"Clients tend to prefer fair-skinned slaves. So there's something added
to the food here that keeps us that way."

Amanda nodded. She was almost disappointed. She had wondered what she
might look like with an even, all-body tan.

Her musings were interrupted when Sirinna reattached her chain to the
collar. "Turn around," her mistress ordered.

Amanda blinked in surprise as she complied. "We're done already,
mistress?"

"Yes, we're heading back to my quarters now."

"Oh." She felt Sirinna draw the cuffs tight around her wrists. "Are we
going to do something else back there?"

Sirinna hesitated just a moment. "Yes, we are, actually."

"What, mistress?"

"You'll have to wait until we get back." She closed the tiny padlocks
on Amanda's restraints and picked up the chain. She gave it a firm
snap, a little harder than she usually did.

The difference was not lost on Amanda, and she felt a twinge of anxiety
that caused her to hesitate a moment before she fell into step ahead of
her mistress for the walk back to their quarters.

"Um, mistress?" Amanda asked tentatively.

"Yes, Amanda?"

"I, um, I /did/ do well today, didn't I?"

"Of course you did."

There was a subdued inflection to her mistress' voice.

"Are you sure of that?" Amanda persisted.

"There were a few things that could be improved, yes. We'll go over
that during dinner."

Amanda nodded slowly. Her heart beat a little faster. Something was
wrong, she could sense it. Sirinna never passed up a chance to critique
her performance once they were away from the Circle, usually
interspersed with copious praise for her efforts.

She preferred it that way. She did not want to think about it on her
own for too long or too hard. Two months of her life spent in Narlass
was still inadequate to throwing off Earthly cultural influence. Here,
throwing herself into casual sex with people ten years her senior was
training to be a slave; back on Earth, it was no better than being a
slut.

It was hard for her, sometimes, to see the difference.

She tried to tell herself that it was a different culture here, that
what one world considered a detriment, the other considered an asset.
She wondered if this was another advantage to being a slave without a
past. That was a lot of mental baggage that would no longer get in the
way. Yet she still shuddered at the thought of having her memories
erased in that manner.

They entered Sirinna's quarters. Halfway across the room, Sirinna
snapped her chain to bring her to a stop.

Amanda's heart pounded. She felt that if something was going to happen,
it was now. She felt Sirinna remove her chain, and then waited for her
restraints to be removed. Instead, she heard Sirinna move away from
her.

"Mistress?"

When Sirinna did not answer after a few moments, Amanda turned around.
She caught Sirinna just as she was straightening up after having
fetched something from under her bed.

Amanda's breath caught in her throat when she saw Sirinna holding the
paddle.

"I need you leave you restrained for a little while longer, Amanda,"
Sirinna said in a somber voice. "We have to take care of something
first."

Amanda's mouth dropped open as she gave Sirinna a frightened look. "But
... but you said I did well today!"

"You did, love. Very well. This ..."

"Whatever I did, I won't do it again!" Amanda wailed. "Please,
mistress!"

"/Amanda./"

The girl fell silent, her lower lip trembling.

"You've done nothing wrong. You're not being punished. This is
something different."

"I don't understand, mistress."

"There's something we call the Traditional Twenty that ..."

Amanda gasped. "Oh God, not that!"

Sirinna paused. "You know about it?"

"Tanyee told me. I thought when you went this long without saying
anything about it that you weren't going to do it at all ..."

"I have to, Amanda. I held off because I didn't think you could handle
it earlier. I think you can now."

Amanda swallowed, her eyes flicking nervously to the paddle. "I don't
get a say in this, do I?"

Sirinna shook her head slowly.

Amanda sighed despondently. "God, this is going to hurt," she
whimpered.

"If the pain lingers too much afterward, Amanda, I will take you
straight to Master Vanlo."

"What's the purpose behind this, anyway?

"It's just to show you what true punishment would be like. That's all."

From the look in Sirinna's eyes, Amanda could tell there was a little
more to it than that. She had no idea what, so she held her tongue.

"Turn around," Sirinna ordered softly. "And bend over slightly."

Amanda wanted to be defiant. She wanted to give her mistress trouble
over this. But ultimately, she didn't. She did not want to ruin
everything she had gained up to this point. If she rebelled now, it
would make everything she had been trying to do meaningless.

In other words, she had to show that she was a good slave.

Amanda swallowed, turned, and bent over.

"Now, just remain still, eyes forward and open."

Amanda had squeezed her eyes shut. She sighed and opened them again.
There was a pause, and then a loud smack as the first stroke came down
on her backside.

Amanda yelped and lurched forward. Sirinna grabbed her shoulder and
held her still in time to deliver the next stroke. She smoothly
continued into the next ones, never varying the rhythm. Each one was
delivered skillfully and perfectly, each one a solid strike with the
flat of the paddle on one of her ass cheeks, always the one opposite
the one that was struck the stroke before.

With each came the same red flare of pain, a stinging that lasted just
long enough until Sirinna returned to that cheek, until it became a
steady, rising torment. As they approached the tenth stroke, Amanda
began to tremble. She squeezed her legs together as her ass blushed
brightly.

Past the tenth stroke, to first her surprise and then her
embarrassment, heat flashed in her sex. The pain rose higher, and the
ache in her pussy grew even as tears trickled from her eyes. At the
fifteenth stroke, her tears flowed freely, and her pussy throbbed dully
between her thighs.

Sirinna delivered the twentieth stroke and let go of Amanda's shoulder.
Amanda sobbed softly but did not cry out. She refused to cry out. This
would /not/ break her. She would not let it.

And she categorically denied any connection between her paddling and
the wetness in her pussy.

"Turn around, Amanda."

Amanda drew herself up, wincing as her tightening backside muscles
intensified the lingering pain in her pink cheeks. She sniffed back
tears, taking a few quick, deep breaths. As composed as she could
possibly be, she turned around.

At once, Sirinna's gaze flicked down to Amanda's crotch, and then met
the girl's gaze.

Amanda swallowed, quivering. "It's not that, right? It's ... it's not
from the paddling."

"It's all right, Amanda," Sirinna said in a gentle voice.

"But it's not. It's /not./"

"It's perfectly normal to get a little excited over it."

"/Not for me!/"

Sirinna stepped up to her. Amanda tried to back away, but Sirinna
caught her arm and forced her to stand still. Amanda looked away.

"Love, look at me."

Amanda reluctantly turned her eyes to her lover. A tender gaze met it
in return. Sirinna let go of Amanda's arm and caressed her cheek
lightly. Amanda stared at Sirinna, confused. The next moment, Amanda's
body jerked, and she uttered a short, desperate gasp. She held her
breath, her eyes closing, and then let it go as a long, excited sigh.

Soft, wet sounds drifted to her from her pussy as Sirinna's fingers
stroked her deeply. Despite the glowing pain in her backside, Amanda
trembled with renewed desire. She spread her shaking legs apart,
letting her lover slip two fingers into her tunnel.

"Oh God ..." Amanda breathed. "Ohhh ... Siri ... m-mistress ... "

Sirinna smiled and continued to work Amanda's pussy with her skilled
fingers.

"I d-don't ... p-please tell me I don't ... g-get off on ... on ..."

"Punishment? No, not really, love. But just enjoy it for now. I'll
explain it later."

Amanda moaned and leaned into Sirinna, panting hotly onto one of her
breasts. She was rising, enough to make her forget the throbbing pain
in her ass cheeks. Her need for release became too great for her worry
over the cause. It did not matter to her anymore for the moment.

Sirinna sensed her lover's needs, and she did not dawdle. She pumped
her fingers into Amanda's cunt with quick, hard strokes. Amanda's moans
rose, her eyes closing as her muscles tensed.

"Ohhh ... ohhh! ... /uhhhnn! Uhhh!/"

Amanda came hard, hips bucking against Sirinna's hand, pain flaring
anew in her buttocks, mixing with the pleasurable throbs of her orgasm.
The juxtaposition was almost too much for her, and she whimpered in a
strained voice. Sirinna steadied her with a hand to her arm, and eased
off slowly, bringing her down smoothly.

"Oh God ... "Amanda moaned, and nearly collapsed into Sirinna. A few
tears filled her eyes again, but stopped short of flowing down her
cheeks.

Sirinna hugged her. "It's okay."

Amanda's voice was strained and desperate. "Why did I get excited? Why
did that make me wet? That's not right, is it?!"

"Here, let's get these off you first." Sirinna quickly turned her
around and removed the cuffs, careful to avoid touching Amanda's sore
backside. "Now, Amanda, please, don't worry about this. Some slaves
just react that way to punishment."

"But that means I like it, right?!"

"No, no, no. It doesn't mean that. Do you want to be paddled again
right now?"

"No! I n-never want to see that paddle again!"

"Well, see? You don't crave punishment. But when you do get it, you get
aroused."

Amanda sighed. She was having trouble seeing the difference, and the
lingering pain was distracting her.

"Do you want the Healer to give you something for that, love?" Sirinna
asked.

Amanda paused, and then shook her head. "No, not if it means having to
go in restraints again."

Sirinna placed a hand on Amanda's shoulder and squeezed. "You don't
have to worry about this, Amanda, until you're first contracted to a
client."

"Huh?"

"Well, this sort of thing is sometimes valued by a client. Some like to
administer light punishment like that just to make the slave aroused,
so he can 'make it all better' by making her cum afterward."

"Like you just did with me?" Amanda demanded with an indignant edge to
her voice.

"Careful, love."

Amanda forced herself to take a deep breath. No, she was not going to
backslide. "Sorry, mistress," she said in a more contrite voice. "But
now this means any client I go to will want to paddle me all the time!"

"No, just sometimes. And not as hard as I did, or as long. Just enough
to trigger your response."

"But how will Master Roquan ever find out, if ... wait ... you're going
to tell him, aren't you?"

Sirinna nodded. "I have to, love."

Amanda said nothing. Instead she delicately rubbed one of her ass
cheeks, moaning at the pain that speared her. She felt no renewed surge
of arousal, to her relief. So it wasn't the pain alone that did it.
That was some small comfort to her.

"Just ... just don't you do it to me anymore, please, mistress," Amanda
said in a low voice.

Sirinna smiled and stroked Amanda's hair. "If you keep doing as well as
you have, love, I'll never have reason to punish you like that."

Amanda managed a faint smile in return.



The air was still hot and sodden even as the sun disappeared beneath
the ocean to the west and was unlikely to give up its moisture anytime
soon. Herdon wiped sweat from his brow as he shouldered his crossbow,
having just passed guard duty to the evening shift. As he turned, his
eyes gazed down the main road as it wound to the south. He could just
make out the peasants' fields stretching out towards the Manor that lay
at the southwest tip of the island.

Herdon would be glad when they made it to the D'ronstaq Manor two days
hence. He could use a decent bath and good food, and once clean and
well-fed, a nice, soft female body to see to his other needs. He would
make sure to satisfy himself in the latter regard, for he knew it might
be the last time he would enjoy Roquan's fine slaves.

As he reentered camp, his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Jollis
entering Uridon's tent. His lips drew into a thin line, and his brows
knitted together. His hand tightened reflexively on the hilt of the
crossbow.

Herdon was sure the fellow would have been left behind at the last
town. Uridon himself had begun to grow impatient waiting for the
supposed merchant to come through on his promise of exotic goods. Not
once in any of the towns through which they had passed had Herdon seen
the man attempt to make contact with anyone.

And Herdon had kept very close tabs on the foreigner. He did not trust
the man at all. Something about Jollis bothered him. All the man did
was wander about the Clan, making small talk with the others. Yet no
one else appeared to share Herdon's distrust. Jollis, with his pleasant
voice and easy smile, exuded a charisma that made others speak easily
in his presence.

Not that there were secrets to tell. Merchants were, by nature, a
gossipy lot. Many towns relied on them for information. /Real/
information, not what the Imperium or the local baron wanted people to
know. Merchants were always swapping stories and speculation.

Yet Jollis acted like he did with his goods. Eager to take from others,
but loathe to give back.

Herdon marched over to his father's tent. Perhaps Uridon had called the
man out, and was about to put him out on the road back north. Yet when
he pulled the flap aside and stepped inside, the smile on Jollis' face
told him his hopes were largely dashed.

"This is quite astonishing, my dear fellow. Quite astonishing!"

Herdon jerked his head towards the deep voice with the rumbling
cadence.

Uridon Ne'land, leader of the Land Clan of Merchants, turned from the
smokeless torch by which he was examining several bright blue pearls in
his hand. Herdon raised a single eyebrow at the intensity of his
father's gaze as the older man picked up one of the pearls in his
slender fingers.

"I hope you are pleased, Clan Leader," Jollis said respectfully, though
the pride in his voice was apparent.

Herdon's hand clenched around the crossbow again.

Uridon lifted his eyes. "Pleased? It will be Roquan that will be
pleased!" His head turned. "Herdon! Have a look at these."

Herdon inwardly sighed and stepped over to his father. He glanced
briefly at the Wanderer with a sour look on his face before casting his
eyes towards Uridon's palm. He did not have the magic sensitivity that
his father had, so to him, he would not be able to make any sort of
assessment on them. His father was no Mage, certainly, but it behooved
at least some of the more senior members of the Clan to be able to
sense magic, for it allowed them to do as Uridon apparently had done,
which was validate that what he held in his hand was what they had been
purported to be.

"I take it he has come through on his promise of the wards the Overlord
wanted?" Herdon said tonelessly.

"Indeed he has! With these, I daresay Roquan will be able to weather
all but the worst storm aimed directly at him."

"And just how did he come about these?"

Jollis smiled evenly. "As I said, I have foreign contacts."

"Really? Which town did you meet them in?"

"Herdon!" Uridon snapped.

Herdon made a face. "Apologies, father. It had been a long and very hot
day."

Yes, there were not many secrets with merchants. But there were a few,
and one of those was how a merchant procured his goods. It was a
competitive advantage. Even independent merchants were allowed the
privilege, so long as their means did not call down ill fortune upon
the his host Clan.

It was also likely that Uridon was only seeing the money he would make
from the transaction. Trivial details as to where the merchandise came
from mattered not in light of that.

"No, it is quite all right, Clan Leader Uridon, I am not at all
insulted by the question," said the Wanderer. He turned to Herdon,
wearing that serene smile that Herdon had grown to hate. "I did not,
indeed, meet them in town. I arranged a rendezvous outside camp one
day. This is not unusual from where I come. I hope I did not break with
custom."

"Not at all," Uridon said. He gave his son an icy look before turning
back to Jollis and chuckling. "Better, perhaps, to keep your sources
from other merchants' eyes, eh?"

"I am glad you understand."

"You would be most welcome to continue on with our Clan after our stay
at the Manor."

Herdon frowned at this, but held his tongue.

"I am quite flattered, Clan Leader, but, alas, I must go my own way
after the Manor. Which is why I wish to make one last deal with you
over these pearls before that time."

Herdon's eyebrows rose. Even Uridon now looked a bit askance. "You did
agree to give us a third of your profits, Jollis," he said, a warning
tone in his voice. "I do not believe that is open to renegotiation."

Jollis flashed the Clan Leader a smile. "Ah, perhaps it would not be,
if I wished to keep more of the money."

"I don't understand you."

"Quite simple. I wish you to keep all of the profits I make from
these."

Herdon blinked.

"All?" Uridon said, his eyes wide in amazement. "Did I hear you right,
Jollis? You wish to give me every bit of platinum you make on these?"

"Indeed, good Clan Leader, yes."

Herdon was growing very suspicious of this. Fortunately, Uridon was not
the Clan Leader for being played the fool, either. "And just how much
were you planning to ask of the Overlord?"

"No less than two thousand, Clan Leader."

Uridon gaped. "/Two thousand?/ Hellfire, Jollis, the Ne'land Clan would
be more than happy with a third of that! And you wish to give it all to
me?"

"Not give," said the Wanderer. "Trade."

Uridon's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"For your choice among Roquan's slaves."

Herdon rounded on Jollis. "And just how did you find out that Roquan
had given him ..."

"Herdon!" Uridon hissed. He turned back to Jollis and laughed. "Are you
quite serious?"

"Indeed, Clan Leader, I am quite serious."

"Are you that enamored of his slaves that you wish to give such a sum
just for the privilege of having your choice of them?"

"As I have said, I am not native to these lands," Jollis said, his
voice smooth and his manner one of ease and confidence. "I have heard
many good things about his slaves. I wish to partake of this
opportunity while I have it."

Uridon scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

Herdon fumed. Now he knew why so many of this man's questions of the
other merchants focused around slaves and Overlords in general, and the
D'ronstaq Manor in particular. That was likely also how he found out
about the arrangement Roquan had made with Uridon. "Father, you cannot
make such a trade!"

"And why not?" said the Clan Leader indignantly. "Mind your place,
Herdon! You may be my son, but you are not master-level yet!"

"Mark my words, father. He will take the very choice you were to make."

"Ah, would that be the one named Sirinna?" asked Jollis.

Herdon fell silent, glaring at the man.

"I have heard many good things about her. Yes, this would likely be my
choice."

Uridon laughed again. "In that case, Jollis, two thousand would indeed
be a fair sum for her. She is Roquan's best." He closed his fingers
around the pearls. "Deal."

Jollis gave a single, respectful bow of his head. "I am honored, Clan
Leader. Thank you for making a very fair and profitable deal for the
both of us."

Uridon grinned and tucked the pearls away on his person. "Where Sirinna
is involved, I daresay there is some question as to who got the better
end of the deal."

Jollis smiled kindly in return. "I bid you good night." He bowed his
head once more and exited the tent.

Herdon frowned again as the tent flap fell back into place behind the
merchant. "I cannot believe you made that deal with him, father."

"And why should this matter to you?"

"I think you should have questioned him more closely about his
contacts."

Uridon sighed. "You still have not let go of your former life, have
you?"

"And is that still such a sore spot with you?"

"It is funny you should be so suspicious of the foreigner, Herdon,"
Uridon said as he opened a canteen and poured out a liquor with a dark
amber color into a small glass. He swirled the brandy around the glass
for a few moments before taking a small sip. "I seem to recall much of
the Clan clamoring for me to send you away when you came back."

"They stopped the first time I held off the brigands that threatened to
raid our camp not a season later."

Uridon sank into a chair and stretched his legs. "Yes. Your training
was good for something, I suppose."

Herdon took a deep breath and managed not to utter a hasty retort. He
would not let his father bait him. Instead, he shouldered his crossbow
higher, making it more prominent against his person. "I am aware that
you believe I made the wrong decision. Will you dredge up your old
arguments again?"

Uridon paused and took a long sip of his brandy that blazed a trail
down to his stomach. "No, I suppose not. It simply grates on me that a
merchant would choose to become so political."

Herdon laughed. "I was hardly a merchant at the time. And being a
soldier hardly qualifies as political."

"No, you weren't a merchant. Just a foolish boy with odd ideas in his
head."

Herdon did not respond. He did not want to spar with his father
tonight, and especially not over this. He had told his father
everything he would ever tell the man about his time in the military.
It was all he dared tell anyone.

Uridon leaned back in his seat. "Quite a marksman they made of you."

"Yeah, I suppose. Glad you finally noticed."

Uridon smirked. "If I had not noticed, I would not have made you a
guardsman for the Clan, now would I?"

"I suppose not."

Uridon considered his son for another moment. "Herdon, it's obvious you
don't like this Jollis fellow. He states he will part ways at the
Manor. Leave it be until then."

Herdon took a deep breath through his nose and let it go. "Yes,
father."

"Feel free to avoid him during our stay at the Manor. I daresay it will
be hectic enough catering to the Overlords during the Conclave."

Herdon nodded, and started out of the tent. He paused at the entrance
and turned back. "May I ask you something?"

Uridon nodded.

"What do you make of this Conclave?"

Uridon's eyebrows rose. "Make? Why should I make anything of it?"

"Well, the stuff I've been hearing. That Roquan has something rather
damning against the Emperor to lay before the others. That he wishes to
stir up revolt. That ..."

Uridon sighed and shook his head. "And you say you are not political."

"I am merely curious! And I might remind you, father, merchants used to
be /highly/ political. A century ago, merchants could make or break a
war. Or a peace. Or bring a mighty empire to its knees, or create an
empire from a nameless duchy, all by how we choose to trade with them."

"And the Merchants' Guild stopped that for a reason! Do you truly wish
to return to those days? You'd have more to worry about on guard duty
than animals or brigands."

"I only wish to rekindle your interest in current affairs beyond what
money or trade the information may bring."

"As a merchant, they can have little more meaning to me than that."

Herdon's eyes hardened. "Yes, I suppose they can't."

"What's more, Herdon, I have my own concerns, ones far more important
than the Overlords' Conclave. Now, I bid you to leave me. This
bickering is giving me a headache."

"Just one last thing, father."

Uridon rubbed his temples and nodded reluctantly.

"What if you heard of a plot against an Overlord? What then? What price
that information?"

Uridon looked up. "Have you heard such a thing?"

Herdon remained silent for a long moment, studying his father, and
seeing nothing more than the desire for what profit such information
might bring. "No. I have heard nothing. As I said, I was merely
curious. Good night, father."

Herdon quickly left.



The Wanderer stood in the shadows at the edge of the camp, and watched
as Herdon marched from the Clan Leader's tent.

This man was going to be a problem; he could sense at least that much.
For his plan to succeed, Jollis needed to remain close to the Overlord.
He feared that this man might make that difficult, as suspicious as the
man was.

Did Herdon sense the Wanderer's true intentions? Unlikely. Jollis found
it worrisome that the man was even interested. A merchant, yet so
unlike a merchant. Just like himself. The difference was, Jollis strove
to fit in. Herdon did not.

At least his plans for the evenings were secure. The deal with Uridon
had assured that. In some ways, this was even more critical than his
task concerning the Overlord. Yet he could not help but wonder if the
two were linked. He had a feeling they were.

Surely this was true, if the outworlder girl were truly as remarkable
as he had been led to believe.
<1st attachment end>


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