"You truly do look fine, Janna. We should not be late for the Caucus."

Janna turned her head towards Tarras as he approached her. His voice had been gentle, but his eyes betrayed urgency. Janna had to suppress the urge to sigh.

It was the fourth day of the Caucus. Tarras had arrived as he did every morning. It was becoming a routine. That was the problem. Everything was becoming routine, as if her presence here was meaningless. At the same time, she was terrified of reaching her turn to speak.

It was then she remembered who's turn it was to speak that morning.

"I'm terribly sorry, Tarras," Janna said, her cheeks flushing as she turned away from the mirror. "That was thoughtless of me. You're right, let's go. Enough dawdling."

She surged past him. He rounded on one heel and caught her arm.

Janna was so surprised by the move that she nearly yanked her arm from his grasp in indignation. It passed quickly when her eyes met his and she saw the concern in them.

"Are you all right, Janna?"

Somehow, Janna had expected him to say more than this. His response suddenly seemed lackluster and almost cruel. Now she did yank her arm from his fingers, though not with very much force. Her lips tightened as she gazed at him. "No, I am not all right, if it means anything to you."

Janna regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Fortunately, Tarras looked on her no less kindly or concerned. "I would think I've shown that it does," he said softly.

Janna sighed. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Then what is it?"

Janna's eyes flicked over to the door for a moment, as if she wanted to escape and avoid having to answer the question. She had to force herself to meet his eyes again. "Duric," she said simply.

Tarras paused a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "You are worried about him?"

"Not him directly, but what he will say to me when he finally contacts me."

"Ah. You are afraid to hear that the 'preparations' are not going well."

Yes, that was a worry, but that was not what had Janna disturbed so. "You could say that, yes," she replied anyway.

"Lord Duric strikes me as someone who knows what he is doing," said Tarras. "And is willing to admit when he does not and listens to those that do. Does he still have Farro as his adviser?"

Janna nodded.

"A very good man. If Duric is listening to even half of what that man says, he will do well in his endeavor."

Janna felt doubly frustrated. At Tarras' insistence, they had to dance around what Duric was actually doing, in case someone was listening to them. Janna thought it would have been a supreme breach of protocol for the Emperor to use magic to eavesdrop on private conversations. She had to keep reminding herself that Z'haas had already shown a willingness to do the unorthodox.

It made any meaningful discussion next to impossible. And she was not even sure she could trust him enough to confide in him.

Tarras could tell that his words did not mollify Janna in the least, despite her attempt to smile slightly and nod in acknowledgment. His instincts told him that something was up with Janna, and it was more than just nervousness over Duric's activities. It was something closer to home.

Tarras wanted to help. At first he had thought his interest in her was purely emotional, but he quickly discovered that he wanted her as an ally.

But in addition to having her as a lover, not instead of. She excited him in a way that none of his most lovely and skilled slaves did. His wife was not even a factor. It was a marriage arranged for political convenience, and to sire an heir. Both responsibilities had been carried out years ago, and both now looked further afield.

Tarras wanted her, but not like this. Not vulnerable and needful. He wanted the one filled with fire and spirit, the one he had heard so much about, the one he could see in her eyes.

It was the one he started to see again when Janna drew herself up straight and looked at him with a sharp gaze. "We are wasting time here. It will be your turn to speak. I for one want to hear something substantial in your words, and not the prattle the others pass off as speech. Don't disappoint me."

Tarras sensed the deeper meaning in her words from the way her tone softened at the last sentence. He smiled at her and took her hand. "I hope to live up to your expectations, dear Janna."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

Janna's lips parted slightly, then curled into a small smirk. "So are you trying to gain advantage with me again?"

"That depends. Is it working?"

Janna laughed. "Typical. You find one weakness and try to exploit it for all its worth."

"My, my, Lady Janna, are you saying that something as simple as taking your hand can fluster you?"

Before she could reply, he squeezed her hand and held it against his chest.

Janna felt his chest rise and fall under her hand. She curled the fingers slightly and felt them press into hard muscle. She lifted her head again at the same time she drew in a single, noisy breath. "And you think you can excite me by forcing me to touch your person?"

There was a sultry edge to her voice, and her dark eyes smoldered a touch as they looked at him.

Tarras returned it with a similar look of his own, and Janna felt her sex tingle again.

"Interesting that you could have pulled away at any time," Tarras said with a trace of amusement in his voice.

Janna let her hand linger on him, even sliding down a bit before slowly withdrawing it. "I do things when I want to rather than when another tells me."

"I have no doubt of that. And I admire that."

"Do you?"

"Yes. So I hope you will indeed want to."

Janna raised an eyebrow. "Want to ... what?"

He drew close to her and ran a few fingers through her luxurious hair. Janna's eyes widened but never left his. The desirous look in them deepened.

"It's more than what you think," Tarras said, letting more of a somber tone creep into his voice.

Janna looked at him in confusion, but he had already turned away.

"Let us go. The Caucus will be starting soon," he said as he headed to the door.

Tarras and Janna were among the last to arrive. As they approached the wide doorway at the entrance to the chamber, they saw a curious sight. An ancient, white-bearded man stood, his spotted hands folded over one end of a walking stick, glowering silently at the Lords as they passed.

Janna looked at him. The man looked back, and his eyes narrowed to sharp points. It was only then that Janna realized that the walking stick was a Mage staff.

Tarras suddenly took her hand and squeezed it. "Do not give him the time of day, Lady Janna," he said softly but urgently.

Janna had felt a chill pass through her from the penetrating gaze of the man, so she had little incentive anyway to keep looking at him. She made a point of tightening her jaw and turning her head in as lofty a manner as she could, feeling it was the right thing to do. Nevertheless, she felt the man's eyes on her as she passed, as if they were cold, hard weights pressing into her.

Once they had passed into the chamber, Janna turned to Tarras. "Who exactly was that?"

"Mage Q'yros, the Emperor's right hand lackey," said Tarras.

Janna glanced behind her, as if fearing the Mage had followed them into the room. He was nowhere in sight. "That was Q'yros?"

"Has Duric talked about him?"

"Some, yes. He gave Roquan D'ronstaq some difficulties, I understand."

"Perhaps you can enlighten me later about that. I have heard much rumor as to what transpired." After they sat down, he turned his head towards her and added, "If you feel you can confide that in me."

Janna so much wanted to do so. She needed someone to whom she felt she could talk in person rather than over Farview. "We'll see."

Tarras nodded. It was less than he wanted, more than he had expected.

Janna felt guilty for rebuffing him like that, since, for all she knew, it had also spoiled her chances at a tryst with him. But she had to maintain discretion. Duric had emphasized that. She had to be sure Tarras could be trusted.

What was ironic was the fact that the way Janna often discovered when someone could be trusted was how he conducted himself during sex. It was not something she could explain in words, as it was more emotional than logical. But she had to trust him enough to get to that point in the first place. Normally she would not think twice about a casual liaison, but it seemed wrong here somehow.

She settled back in her seat and hoped she would remain awake long enough to hear Tarras' speech.

Q'yros came away from the meeting chamber even more irritated than when he first arose that morning.

The magic he was channeling into the spell to track the movements of the Lords was taking a toll on him. One of the reasons that aging Mages as himself rarely showed overt signs of the typical afflictions that affect the elderly was that the magic charge they had accumulated over the years helped shore up the body. But now that he was using up much of that for this spell, he was losing that protection.

Janna was not too far off the mark in thinking Q'yros' staff a walking stick. The Mage used it in that fashion now as gout had flared up in one foot. His fingers felt stiff as arthritis had stolen its way into them. Thus he had been in an increasingly sour mood over the past few days waiting for something to happen.

And to add to his misery, he still had the Emperor to deal with.

Q'yros grumbled when he did not find Z'haas in any of his usual haunts. Which meant he was in one of two places. He had either taken to bed with illness, or he was in that tiny shrine to his brother. Since he would have heard immediately had any illness befallen the sovereign, it had to be the latter.

The Mage did not dare intrude on Z'haas' privacy. And with the aches and pains that had afflicted him in the long trek to the narrow corridor that led to the room, he was not in the best frame of mind to speak with the Emperor. Thus he waited.

Q'yros managed to keep his patience and put on an outward look of calm when Z'haas emerged from the room. He paused as his gaze fell upon Q'yros, a look of wariness coming across his face.

"What is it, Q'yros?" he demanded.

"I have come to beg you to reconsider your stand on the matter we discussed the other day, my Emperor," said Q'yros in a slightly strained voice.

Z'haas' lips thinned. "I thought I had said there was nothing more to discuss on this matter."

"I hope to change you mind, my Emperor. It is vital that we learn more of our adversary's technology."

"It is bad enough that you allowed him to dredge up those artifacts in the first place!"

"The damage is already done, my Emperor," Q'yros said with forced patience. "Thus what difference would it make now?"

"And alert our enemy that we know of their Portals? The more people that know we have the artifacts increases the chance that the information will escape."

"The Mage Guild has a history of being discreet in these matters, my Emperor."

"Yes, as you had when you told the Guild Master in the first place," said Z'haas acidly.

Q'yros' hands gripped the staff more tightly, sending an ache through his fingers. "I did as I thought you would have done, my Emperor."

Z'haas frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"I did it for the good of Oceanus. It is what has guided your hand, is it not?"

The Emperor folded his arms. "That goes without saying."

"It is motivating me as well. And sometimes you need to take risks."

"There is a difference between risk and recklessness, Q'yros."

Q'yros wanted to laugh out loud. It was ironic that he thought the Emperor was the one that did not seem to understand the difference himself. From the plans he had seen for the "Colosian Incursion" as it was being called -- neatly avoiding the politically hot word "invasion" -- Z'haas was still planning on leaving only a single legion behind to protect the Imperial Palace. Z'haas was still convinced that any attack on the Imperium would be fronted by the Lords themselves in the form of a palace coup, and it was Q'yros' responsibility to keep an eye on them. He still did not put any faith in Gronnus' words.

Q'yros could count one victory on that front, however. He had managed to convince the head of the Imperial Guard to let the Mage vary the patrol routes fairly often. Every few days Q'yros changed the path the patrols took and their timing. There would be no discernible pattern to it, thus eliminating the chance of a surprise attack.

"And you have told me that you have already discovered a great deal about the enemy's methods," Z'haas continued.

"We are missing the most crucial piece of the puzzle, which is how they are directing the Portals."

"But will that information stop them, Q'yros? It was my understanding that even with their advancement, they cannot breach an anti-Portal ward, or they would have done so already. Is that not still true?"

Q'yros sighed. "As far as I know, it is still true."

"Then I fail to see the benefit of any further investigation into the matter, and I forbid any further mention of it. Now, have you anything for me on the Lords?"

Q'yros stiffened. He cannot see beyond the end of his own nose, the Mage thought ruefully. It is one thing to be practical, but this is taking it to an extreme.

Unfortunately, he had no choice but to accept it. Once the Emperor dictated that a subject was not to be broached any further, it was a dead issue. This was the first time Z'haas had done this to Q'yros, and it made him rather angry. He suppressed it as best he could, but his voice was tense when he spoke again. "I have nothing for you, my Emperor. I have seen nothing that suggests anything is amiss. I see no unusually large gatherings. I see no attempt at collusion with any local citizens save for servants and merchants. I see no attempts to penetrate to areas of the palace they have no business being."

The irritation in the Mage's voice above and beyond the simple anger he felt towards the Emperor was evident. His words did nothing to please Z'haas either.

"Are you sure you are tracking all their movements, Q'yros?"

"As I have told you before ..." and again and AGAIN " ... I am positive I am catching all their movements. I have had no reports of Lords going about naked."

Z'haas frowned. "Is that a joke, Q'yros?"

"It is the only way that they could go about undetected, and that assumes that they would even know that their clothes have a magical charge that I am tracking. And even if they do, they have nothing with which to remove that charge."

"Surely they are planning something! Perhaps that is what they are spending their time doing in the meeting chamber."

"Perhaps. But if they are, they have put nothing into action."

"We should have put eavesdroppers in the chamber as I had suggested ..."

"No, my Emperor. It does not matter if they are plotting the most grandiose schemes of revolution. It does not matter if their talk is filled with calls to usurp the throne. Without action, they are nothing but words. And such a thing cannot take place without support from someone. They have no weapons. They have no influence over the staff. They have no means to coax, exhort, or bribe their way to a position where they would have opportunity to take the throne. They have no power here."

Z'haas was silent for a long moment. His gaze then hardened as he looked back to Q'yros.

"When their silly political games are over and they are ready to call me to the Caucus, I will be there with my guard, and to the hells with protocol!"

"My Emperor, I don't advise ..."

"And to the hells with what you advise!"

Q'yros was too shocked by this rebuke to respond.

"I will not allow myself to be put into a vulnerable position, Q'yros! Not this close to launching the incursion! If I can pacify Colos, I will have bought Oceanus valuable time. I will have pushed the enemy back from the gates."

Q'yros frowned. "With what we have discovered about the Portals, do you really think they even need Colos as a staging area?" he exclaimed. "Have you ever stopped to think of that, my Emperor?"

"Portals cannot launch an invasion!" Z'haas thundered. "It is a means to undermine Oceanus from within! Or to provide reconnaissance for the enemy. Or, perhaps, Q'yros, it is simply to distract us, and make us run around in circles trying to figure out their technology, when all the while they are using bordering nations as staging areas to hem us in and attack us from all sides."

Q'yros looked confused. "Hem us in? The only other nation that 'borders' us in any way that is of any consequence is the Urisi Nation across the eastern ocean. Beyond that, you have only the smattering of kingdoms in the south continent or the wild lands to the north. Surely you do not expect to launch any more 'incursions' into them?"

"I will do whatever I have to do to protect Oceanus. Whatever the cost."

Q'yros knew what he wanted to ask next. He wanted to ask about the Urisi Nation, if Z'haas intended to go head-to-head with them. Ultimately, he did not ask. He was afraid of what the answer might be.

Oceanus and Urisi were the Narlassi equivalent of superpowers. Thus any military clash between them would be akin to a World War. It would likely trigger an economic collapse in both nations that would spread to the rest of the globe.

Q'yros would leave his question unasked and simply hope that the Emperor would not be foolish enough to attempt such a thing. However, his talk with the Emperor did clarify one thing. Z'haas was not concerned with the Portals as a threat in and of themselves so much as he was worried about what was behind them. He did not see them as something that could be used as a military transport mechanism.

Indeed, Q'yros knew of the limitations on how long a Portal could be held open safely or how large it could be made. The conventional wisdom was that the energy expenditure went up exponentially. He assumed that the enemy had not solved this, or they would not need to bother with subterfuge. They could simply open a dozen Portals at once and spew legion after legion into Oceanus. Or as Z'haas had pointed out, they could simply break past the wards and open Portals into the Imperial Palace if they had solved that problem instead.

"The incursion will go as planned," said Z'haas. "Regardless of what the Lords prattle on about at the Caucus!"

The Emperor left the Mage, his footfalls making crisp reports against the floor as he went.

Q'yros sighed. He wondered now if they should have even bothered to host the Caucus after all. Perhaps it would have forced Z'haas to take the possibility of a direct assault on the Imperial Palace more seriously.

"Lord Tarras K'riis of the Carolas Province!"

At Uras' pronouncement, Tarras rose to a modest round of applause and table-slapping, mostly from his closer allies. He paused a moment, his eyes shifting about the chamber. His allies were about the only ones whose complete attention was on him. Most of the others were distracted in side-conversations, reading, or even sleeping. One was turned away and conducting a Farview audience with an adviser back home.

Tarras came around the curving stone table and entered the center of the chamber. By this time, enough silence had fallen among the attentive that the murmur of conversation from the others had become an annoying din.

Each Lord that had come before him had simply ignored it and launched into his speech, practically bellowing his words to the rafters. Tarras simply folded his hands behind his back and waited.

It was not long before the others noticed the silence and began looking up in confusion. In each case, they found Tarras staring impassively at them. They sheepishly subsided and turned their attention to him. Soon all that was left was the one Farviewing his adviser. Tarras turned and fixed his gaze upon him.

Uras' voice boomed into the silence. "Lord Handon!"

The Noble stopped, blinked, and looked towards Uras in surprise.

"There is a time and a place for everything, Lord Handon. And this is neither one for taking a Farview!"

Handon swallowed and quickly waved away his adviser with a few nervous swipes of his hand. He turned around in his seat even before the image had faded completely.

Uras glowered at the man for another moment before turning his gaze to Tarras. "The floor is yours, Lord Tarras."

Janna was suitably impressed. Tarras had not simply commanded the attention of everyone, he had taken it by the horns and wrestled it into submission. She had not wanted to be disappointed, and so far she was getting her wish.

Now she had to hope that his words were just as impressive.

"Was it truly that difficult, my Lords?" said Tarras, his voice crisp and clear. "Was it truly an arduous task to devote even the smallest modicum of attention to the words that were about to be spoken in your midst? Or have you all had your senses so saturated by the raging flood of patriotic fervor that has risen from the mouths of the other Lords like a tsunami? Or perhaps you simply wish to ride the wave and let it carry you forth, confident that you will have the skill and the finesse needed to dismount the wave safely even after it has cut a swathe of nationalistic destruction in the midst of our perceived enemy?"

Tarras paused at this point, turning and strolling to another part of the chamber. His footfalls echoed in absolute silence. He had the eyes of every Lord upon him.

And one Lady.

Janna was a bit taken aback by his opening words. He sounded like he was condemning the other Lords and the content of their speeches so far. Yet the words were compelling, as was the way they were delivered, with a solid confidence that betrayed no hesitation or regrets. Yet he managed to avoid the unmistakable tone of arrogance that had run through the speeches of every Lord before him.

"Two centuries," Tarras' voice rang out. "That is how long we have ridden the wave, my Lords. That wave was started from the ripples caused by the last remnants of the Republican fleet when they were sunk to the bottom of the ocean by the Monarchists. Such a glorious sight! Ships that not a moon before had been broken and battered in their prolonged final battle with the Republicans now sailing in full regal splendor, flaunting to the world their victory, pushing that wave forward onto the shore of their new nation, driving it higher and higher until there was simply no doubt of its supreme power."

Several Lords began to slap the table or cry "here, here!", but Tarras raised a hand and gave a single stern look. The noises died away almost instantly.

"What happens when you see large wave roll in from the ocean?" Tarras continued, turning away from the Lords he had silenced. "Does it continue up the beach and flow inland? Or does it stop? Does it break? Does it eventually fold in upon itself and collapse, then to withdraw back to the sea and take whatever is has consumed with it?"

He paused. This time the silence was absolute.

"The wave breaks, my Lords. And sometimes ..." He paused, his voice growing softer, his eyes clouded. " ... Sometimes ... what it takes back into the sea with it ... is blood."

Janna felt a catch in her throat. Her eyes misted a bit. She kicked herself for constantly forgetting that he had lost a son to the attempted coup.

"It happened two centuries ago, my Lords. And it has happened again. It is not something that might happen. It is not something that could happen. It has happened. Blood has been spilled. Now ... is that worth your attention, my Lords?"

If he did not have it before, he certainly had it now. Every Lord was listening to him. Every eye was upon him. His words were no longer simply sliding over half-conscious minds that had been dulled by political rhetoric.

"Look out into the ocean!" Tarras declared, the first time he raised his voice during his entire speech. "The waters are deadly calm! That is the greatest anathema to any sailor. When the sea is becalmed, you go nowhere. And that is where we are, my Lords. Nowhere!

"The sea awaits the next wave. It awaits the next sacrifice to it to start a new wave rolling, to begin again. That is what we are here for. We are not here to debate. We are not here to deal. We are not here to conduct petty politics. We are here to reforge the nation of Oceanus. In blood, if necessary!"

Janna felt her heart thumping almost painfully in her chest. She swallowed hard as her thoughts turned to what she might need to do for Duric. He had wanted information on the Emperor's machinations, but she had none to give him yet. And he had not yet given her a specific task.

She glanced at the other Lords. Some of them were looking uncomfortable. Good. It was about time they realized the gravity of the situation. She was becoming convinced that they were so wrapped up in the pomp and circumstance of the moment that they were forgetting what had brought them there in the first place.

Tarras turned to one of the Lords and stared straight at him with a penetrating gaze. "Are you ready to spill that blood, Lord Klasso?"

The Lord blinked in surprise and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked nervously to his comrades.

Tarras turned from him. "What about you, Lord Joquanna? Or you, Lord Hennis? Or you ... Lord Uras?"

Unlike the other Lords, Uras gave Tarras an unwavering, hard gaze in return. He rose to his feet and brought a meaty fist down on the table. "By all the gods, I am!"

Janna's mouth fell open. Several other Lords were equally shocked.

When Janna took another look at Uras, she discovered there was more to the story. He was trembling. There was a hint of a nervous look to his eyes, even as intently as he held them on Tarras. The idea of war terrified him. But he had made the statement anyway. Suddenly Janna had a new-found respect for him.

But Tarras would not simply accept it at face value. "Are you, Lord Uras?" Tarras said, approaching him and lowering his voice. "Are you truly willing to do so?"

Uras paused a moment and took a deep breath. "Why not?"

"Because it could be your blood that is spilled."

"You would know that feeling well, would you not, Lord Tarras? Your son. The attempted coup."

"Great gods, not Bennis?!" one of the other Lords blurted out in shock.

Others were making similar notes of surprise and horror.

Hellfire, Janna thought in amazement and disgust. They didn't know. They didn't stop to find out who had died in the coup. Insensitive bastards.

Tarras stiffened. His gaze became cool, but he gave a nod to Uras to show that there was no animosity to be found before he turned to the others and raised his voice again. "We appear to be behind in current events, my Lords! Perhaps that is why the breaking of the great wave of Oceanus unity and power escaped your notice. Perhaps it washed the blood away from the beach too soon for you to see it for yourself. Or perhaps the lives of those that attempted to wrest power from the fool that occupies the throne were not important enough to pay attention to!"

The silence that followed was a guilty one.

"In truth, my Lords? It should matter not that it was my son that died with them. What should matter to you is that Oceanus citizens died by the Emperor's hand without a fair trial guaranteed by Charter. The wave began to collapse the day it washed up around the throne of Fenric Z'haas, and we see it now only after the waters have been stained red with blood.

"Old Oceanus has died. It died that day the revolt was struck down. We have no nation. And if we have no nation, Z'haas is ruling nothing. We will forge a new nation, my Lords. And Z'haas will support that action ... or he must step aside.

"Good day to you all."

Tarras left silence in his wake as he left the center of the chamber. Then, as he passed through the gap between two tables, a Lord stood and began to applaud. A second, and then a third joined.

By the time Tarras returned to his seat, the entire chamber had joined in, and it had become a thunderous roar.

Tarras did not react to it. He simply sat stoically in his chair until Lord Uras called for order. The praise subsided, but slowly.

"That was amazing," Janna said softly to him.

Tarras gave her a small smile. "The sentiment is appreciated."

"They seemed impressed, certainly."

"For the moment. It will not last long. They will not seriously call for Z'haas to step down. My words will not have that effect on them at all."

Janna was a bit confused. "Then what ...?"

"Janna, when you bargain with a merchant, will he immediately quote the price that it is worth?"

"Huh? Um ... no, he always asks for more."

"Precisely. I ask the Lords for the world: Z'haas swept from power and a renewed nation of Oceanus. I will not get it. But I hope to get far more than I would had I simply repeated the same twaddle as the rest."

Janna was both disappointed and relieved. She honestly did not want to see the Lords attempt to usurp the throne. She wanted them to leave the dirty work to Duric. He had already planned for it and they had not.

Another thought came to her, and she looked at Tarras with widening eyes.

Tarras smiled back. "Yes, you realize the side benefit too, no?"

She did. Duric's path had been smoothed with the Lords. When he arrived with his army, it would not be so much a shock to the others. They would not be as quick to think it was one of their number attempting their own grab for power. They would assume it had been tacitly sanctioned by the other Lords.

"Thank you," Janna sighed with some relief.

"Duric still has a long road ahead of him, but this will perhaps remove one obstacle."

Janna nodded. She found it difficult now to pay attention to the rest of the Caucus that day. Even the Lord that now began to speak was more subdued and not as sure of himself. He realized what Janna did, that nothing would top Lord Tarras' speech for the rest of that day.

It made Janna very glad she had been consigned to the last day to speak.

The flickering oil lamps remained low, leaving Duric's chamber swathed in shadow as night deepened outside. The only sound in the quiet was Amanda's ragged breathing and tired moans. She was bone-weary and her pussy ached. The muscles of her thighs strained as she pumped her hips up and down. Her body trembled as she surrendered the last bit of her endurance to her service to Duric.

Her Master smiled up at her, enjoying the light touch of her hair as it brushed his chest. He reached up and cupped her breasts, massaging them and tugging at the nipples. Amanda whimpered as the touch sent pleasure mixed with just a tiny twinge of pain.

Amanda wanted nothing more than to sleep. Even Tanyee had been sent to bed. Duric had some of his military officers called in for consultation, and he had offered Amanda to entertain them. They had taken great liberty with this privilege, and she had been traded back and forth between three burly men. They had worked her hard and fast, and at least twice with each of them.

She didn't even have the energy to read a scroll that evening or to do a Farview.

Duric's hands slid along her sides to her hips. He grasped them and forced her into a faster rhythm. Amanda groaned as she increased the pace, her body slapping against his in an increasing frenzy. Any finesse or enthusiasm was gone. She wanted to satisfy him and be allowed to retire for the evening.

She uttered a keening moan and shuddered as she orgasmed, but she did not break her stride. She continued pounding herself against him even as she throbbed. The strokes against her womanhood while she was still in the throes of climax drove her mad, but she refused to slow down.

Finally, Duric was panting as well and thrusting his hips against hers, sending his cock into her hard and fast. His hands gripped her hips more tightly, but her rhythm was already a match for his. Duric uttered a loud, strained groan as he started to throb, burying his manhood deeply in her tunnel.

Amanda whimpered as it triggered a second, albeit weaker, orgasm in herself. Her pussy and its muscles were already too sore for her to exercise any sort of control any further.

Duric's groans subsided into hard breathing. After a moment's pause, he slowly rolled them onto their sides, still joined with her. He gave one last thrust into her from his still partially-hard cock before withdrawing from her.

Amanda closed her eyes and rolled heavily onto her back as he let go of her. She didn't care if it was proper or not to do so, she was simply too tired.

"I take it you got a bit of a workout today," Duric said, still panting as he caught his breath.

Amanda did not trust her voice and simply nodded.

"And now I fear I have worn you out so utterly that you cannot spend more time with me."

Amanda wanted to let out a groan of despair. Surely he did not have enough energy himself for another go around! She was sure she was not up to it. "Master, I don't think I can," she said wearily. Her eyes slid closed. "I'm sorry."

"Even if I just want to talk?"

Now her eyes opened again fully and she turned her head towards him. "Master?"

Duric smiled at her again and lay on his side with one head propped up. "Yes, talk. Something very important I need to discuss with you."

Amanda looked at him anxiously. Had she done something wrong again? Had one of the men she had serviced earlier complained about her? She thought she had satisfied all of them.

"I wish to speak with you about the scrolls."

Amanda's eyes widened a touch. "I-I'm making sure they're not interfering with anything, Master." Her mind was racing. Had she done something so wrong that he was going to take them away from her? Did he think that she should have more endurance?

Amanda had not wanted to admit it, but she felt she was only just barely holding her own. She thought she had been saturated enough with sex back at the Manor to make her accustomed to it. But where there were far more males involved now than she ever had to contend with at once, it was truly taxing her.

She was starting to feel less like a slave and more like a fifteen year old girl doing things that were far beyond her years.

"So, tell me, Amanda ... what have you learned from them?"

Amanda was too surprised at the question to speak at first.

"You must be learning something, are you not? Unless you truly are just memorizing them so you can repeat them back to me as some slaves do for their Masters."

"No, Master, I'm really reading them. I'm ... I'm learning something."

"Ah, splendid. Then what have you learned?"

Amanda was stuck for a reply. There were so many things that she had learned from those scrolls. She didn't know where to begin. As her mind raced, she remembered Jollis had asked her the other night what she had been reading in the scrolls as well ...

"Military history," Amanda finally blurted out. "I read about Oceanus' military history, or at least some of it. How it's structured today."

Duric looked mildly surprised at this. "Have you, now? Not because of current events, though."

"Well ... sort of because of them, Master," Amanda admitted.

"Sort of?"

Amanda was not sure what to tell Duric. She was not sure how much of what she knew about the current crisis might point to her tendency to remember things she had heard rather than forgetting them as a proper slave ought. She was worried that would somehow lead them back to what she had done for Roquan during the Conclave. How she had been his spy.

But there was no way around it. There was no way to lie and get away with it.

"I go by some of the things you and Master Farro talk about. And ... some things I heard from Master Roquan before I left the Manor."

"Ah, I see. He confided these things in you, no doubt."

"Yes, Master."

Duric seemed to regard her for a long moment. Amanda felt frustrated. It was not her fault that she remembered things so well. Or that she was curious about them in the first place. Surely she could not have been the first. Other slaves must be interested in things like this on occasion and are simply never asked about it, so no one ever knows.

Would Tanyee be interested in it? Amanda doubted it. Tanyee seemed too fixated on her duty as a slave to care about anything else.

The thought again came to her about the Draught. The fear gnawed at her that lower intelligence was a lingering effect. But Roquan would not be so cruel as to damage a person's intelligence just to make her a good slave. If anything, he seemed to value intelligence.

Except he was sometimes annoyed with the level that Amanda possessed.

Before she could continue her thoughts along these lines, Duric spoke again. "You seem to be very well informed, Amanda."

Was that a compliment or a rebuke? Amanda hoped for the former. "Thank you, Master."

"Much more so than most slaves, I would say."

Amanda remained silent and simply kept her dark eyes on him. They shimmered a bit in the flickering light of a nearby oil lamp.

"Would you care to offer me any advice, in that case?"

Amanda sensed the amusement in his voice. It made indignation flare inside her again. She quelled it quickly and said dutifully, "That would not be my place, Master."

Duric slowly broke into a smile. "What a nice, safe, correct answer, Amanda."

Yes, it was, and Amanda knew this. She didn't understand why he insisted on pointing it out all the time.

"Now, Amanda, I know you have more imagination than that. Pretend for a moment that it was your place. Would you have anything you want to tell me?"

Amanda got the sense he was finding this something of a joke. Or he was testing her. She was torn between playing the part of the good slave and keep deferring to him as was "proper," or actually answering him honestly.

"Not at the moment, Master, no," Amanda said.

"At the moment?"

"I do not know enough to even begin to advise you. I have learned only general information and not about specific battles."

"Hmm. Do you know enough about Oceanus history to see the flaw in this?"

Amanda gave him a genuinely confused look and shook her head. "No, Master."

"Oceanus has been at relative peace for two centuries. And few have attempted anything but minor incursions. Nothing on the scale of what is being planned. So there is little in the way of 'military history.' That is why I was rather surprised to hear you speak of it."

Amanda felt at once embarrassed and angry. Was he trying to make her look like a fool?

Duric smiled. "In fact, my dear Amanda, there has been no serious warfare at all in our history."

"The Battle of Selemas Keep," Amanda said suddenly, raising her voice slightly.

Duric raised an eyebrow.

"The last great Oceanus war. So the scholars say."

"Even when Oceanus had not been forged as yet until after the battle?"

Amanda opened her mouth and closed it again. Her mind was working furiously to remember the rest. It was from the very first scroll she had read.

"A bit of a disappointment there, Amanda," said Duric. "Perhaps you are not reading as carefully as you need to. Then again, it is generally not in a slave's purview to ..."

"The nation had been declared by fiat by the Monarchists," Amanda's voice rang out. "In a treaty imposed by them. And the battle was to see if the treaty would work. So technically Oceanus did exist, because the Monarchists declared it and they won the battle."

There was a long and heavy silence.

"Amanda, what did I tell you about interrupting me?" Duric said.

"I'm sorry, Master," Amanda said softly.

"Tomorrow, you will not cum all day until I give you leave to do so in the evening. Twenty strokes with the paddle for each time you slip."

"Yes, Master."

Amanda almost didn't care. She felt she had showed him up, and that was all she cared about. She had proven she was intelligent, that she was more than just a slave.

Duric gave her a tight smile. "So you are interested in the great battle that forged the nation, are you?"

Amanda paused a moment before tentatively responding, "Yes, Master."

"Then I want you to find out everything you can about it. Search those useful scrolls of yours and find something."

"Anything you're looking for in particular, Master?"

"Everything and anything. Down to the last detail. I want you to be able to tell me how many men clashed in that battle. How many ships were engaged. The time of day it happened. The weather that day. Everything."

Amanda looked a bit stricken. What had she gotten herself into? "Um ... I'm not sure all that information is in these scrolls, Master. Master Roquan told me they were more general than specific."

"Then you will need to find other means."

"Other means? I don't understand."

Duric chuckled. "Is your mind so riddled with historical trivial that you forgot about Rallas, the court librarian?"

"Oh ..."

"Tomorrow morning, Amanda, after you and Tanyee have seen to my bath and other needs, I give you leave to approach Rallas and request what you need."

Amanda bit her lip.

"Is something the matter, Amanda?"

"No, Master. I-I will go to Master Rallas tomorrow."

"Very good. And make sure you show your appreciation for his help. Offer yourself to him for whatever he wishes."

Amanda barely suppressed a shiver. She did not want to think of what Rallas might say to her. Or what he might want from her in return for those scrolls. Or if he would entertain her request at all. Or if she would be allowed into the library in the first place.

Amanda did not simply dislike Rallas, she found him to be repugnant. She doubted she could get herself sufficiently damp for him if he wanted intercourse with her in exchange for the information.

"Now, you may go. I will see you in the morning."

"Thank you, Master."

Amanda climbed out of bed and headed into her chamber. She found Tanyee sleeping peacefully. Amanda carefully slipped into bed so as not to wake her up.

She was so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that not even her anxiety over the next morning was enough to keep her awake. She was asleep in seconds.

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