Thus in a relatively short span of time, the Monarchists had managed to recover from the shock of the initial attack of the Republicans and battle the enemy back to a relative parity in strength and territory. However, they were stymied in their attempts to bring the war to an end.

The problem was that the parity was present only overall. In terms of dispositions of individual branches of the armed forces, there was disparity, but opposite for each. The Monarchists had achieved an edge on the ground, but the Republicans still commanded the seas.

The Monarchists were wary of attempting to strike a knockout blow on land for fear of their fleets being decimated at sea as they had at the dark days of the start of the war. Likewise, the Republicans could not overwhelm the Monarchist navy without having secured enough ports to support their efforts.

It was the Republicans that finally decided to break the stalemate.

Knowing that control of the major ports was crucial to victory, both on sea and as a new foothold on the continent to reinforce their beleaguered soldiers there, the Republicans chose to commit everything they had in a single massive assault on the port at Selemas. But to secure this, they first had to neutralize its defenses, namely the fortress just to the south named Selemas Keep.

In retrospect, this strategy looked better on parchment than in reality. The Keep had several natural defenses. It was located deep inside a wide cove with shallow waters. Ships coming in for an initial barrage to soften up the Keep would have limited mobility were they seriously contested at sea, and they had to launch their troop barges from quite a distance, leaving them vulnerable to long-range fire from the Keep.

But the strategic importance of Selemas was unquestioned. If it could be successfully taken, the Republicans had a chance for victory.

The Republicans can be admired for the way in which they managed to keep their plans secret. No Monarchist spy managed to get hold of any information even hinting at an operation against Selemas. But one late spring morning, when ships belonging to the fleet commanded by Lord Admiral Monas V'oklon sighted the Republican fleet less than four days out from the Selemas coast, it was immediately clear that a major attack was about to commence.

The Lord Admiral had managed to catch the Republicans by surprise, before the enemy knew of his total strength. He had enough heavy capital ships with him that an assault against the Monarchist force would have inflicted appreciable damage, though likely at the cost of many casualties on his side. It would be enough to disrupt whatever operation they were planning.

Moreover, the Lord Admiral had more personal reasons to engage the Republicans. The Republican fleet was flying the colors of Admiral Kyros Urronus, the Republican admiral that had routed the Monarchists at the Battle of Keyas Inlet. During that battle, the Lord Admiral's son had been captured and murdered by Urronus. The Lord Admiral was understandably interested in revenge.

But the Lord Admiral knew he had a greater duty to perform. He put aside his vendetta and sent an urgent Farview to Selemas Keep. He was ordered to not reveal his strength and withdraw immediately from contact with the enemy. The Lord Admiral performed his duty despite his personal feelings in the matter.

The result was that when the Republicans engaged the Monarchists at Selemas, the Keep's defenses were even more powerful than before thanks to the warning they received. Soon after the Republicans launched their invasion barges, the Lord Admiral had returned with reinforcements.

This is what the plan had been all along for defending Selemas Keep: entice the enemy into an indefensible position at sea, and hope that the ground forces were strong enough to repulse a landing. Lord Admiral V'oklon had not been informed of these plans until the attack began, as they had been held in complete secrecy to avoid discovery by Republican spies.

As had been hoped, the numerically superior Republican fleet was boxed in and their firepower split between protecting the barges and holding off the Monarchist navy. As a result, the Monarchists inflicted severe damage on the Republican fleet. By the time the Republicans managed to break out of the cove, their numbers had been cut down so badly that they no longer enjoyed a numeric advantage.

The result was victory for the Monarchists. The Republican fleet was all but utterly destroyed. The invasion force was defeated in bloody hand-to-hand fighting on the beach, having to fight their battle alone with the navies of both sides already engaged.

Thus in one climactic battle, the Republicans were eliminated as a further obstacle to Oceanus union. It was the last time that Monarchist power had been contested in Oceanus.

Amanda looked up from the parchment, letting go a heavy sigh as she finally reached the end of her research. It was only then that she realized she was shivering.

The day had dawned gray and overcast, and soon after Amanda had arrived at the library that morning, it had started to rain. It was not a heavy rain, but the wind was blowing, and no one had yet closed the shutters. Each time the breeze blew, she was swathed in cold mist that caused goosebumps to rise on her naked body.

"Oh my!"

Amanda jerked her head around at the exclamation in time to see Warlos dash in as fast as his aging frame would allow him.

"I am terribly sorry, Amanda, that was so thoughtless of me!" he cried as he reached the window.

"Oh, no, it's okay, Master, I was just about finished," Amanda said.

But Warlos had already leaned out of the high window to grab for the shutter. Only it was a little too high for him, and his feet left the floor. Amanda gasped and bolted out of her seat. She made it over to him just as he started to flail his arms. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back in.

Warlos fell back to his feet with a thump, his legs nearly giving out from under him. One hand held his chest as he panted. "Oh my ... I nearly had a nasty spill there, didn't I?"

"Are you all right, Master?" Amanda asked with genuine concern.

Warlos smiled at her. "I am quite all right, my dear. Thank you, I am quite indebted to you."

Amanda smiled.

Warlos looked from her to the parchments on the table and back again. "Did you say you were finished?" he asked in amazement.

"Yes, Master. I just finished reading the scroll that described the Battle of Selemas Keep itself and the conclusion of the Founding War."

"Really? You know, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that you're one up on me now."

"Pardon?"

"I have never read about the battle myself. Oh, I know when it happened and what the significance was. Every good Oceanus citizen does. But I never learned about the disposition of the battle itself."

Amanda's smile widened. "Later this evening, I would be happy to repeat to you what I learned."

Warlos gave her an odd look. "This evening?"

"Yes, Master. I am done with my research, and Master Duric granted your wish to make use of me for an evening. For tonight, I will be your slave."

Warlos' eyes widened, as did his smile. "Did he? I ... I'm honored! Oh, and, yes, I suppose telling me what you learned would be a better use of time than, um, anything else ..."

"I will do whatever you wish of me, Master. If you wish to have sex with me, I will be happy to oblige."

For once in a long while, Amanda was serious. She really found Warlos to be a nice man, something that seemed such a rarity on Narlass, save for Jollis. She had no idea what his sexual capabilities were at his age, but if he were capable, she was willing. It would not be just a duty to her.

"I just don't want to disappoint you, my dear ..."

"You won't, Master. Shall I see you after dusk?"

"Oh, yes, that would be fine. Oh, but wait, won't Rallas wish you this evening?"

"He will. But Master Duric allowed me to prefer you over him."

"Oh! Um ..." Warlos looked a bit nervous. In a lower voice he said, leaning in as he did so, "I would not want to get him angry. He is ... rather difficult to be around when he is angry."

Amanda was well aware of this. For a second time the other night, Rallas had nearly discovered her in Farview with Jollis. The impression that Amanda got was that Rallas was intending to seriously punish her on the last night for all her perceived slights. She was going to take maximum advantage of her liberal interpretation of Duric's words to avoid it.

"It will be okay, Master Warlos," Amanda said firmly. "Please trust me in this."

"You are quite the remarkable young woman, Amanda. Nothing at all like I thought a slave would be. Well, nothing like other slaves I have seen, that is."

Amanda wanted to ask what Warlos meant by that but was afraid of the answer. She was growing increasingly wary that her theory about slaves having a slightly lower intelligence level was a correct one. She did not want any more confirmation of this. More importantly, she did not want to have to start thinking of Sirinna along those same lines.

Her heart ached. She still missed Sirinna terribly. And Jollis as well.

"I simply want to please you, Master, that's all," said Amanda. "I'll come by this evening. I will need to inform Master Rallas that I will not be with him tonight."

Warlos nodded and smiled. "Thank you. And thank your Master for me as well. I will be looking forward to it."

"I should get back to Master Duric. I told him I would return to him as soon as I was done here."

"Of course. I will see you later, Amanda."

"Yes, Master."

Warlos waved and watched her leave. He picked up the scrolls she had left behind and clutched them to his chest, his eyes turning back just in time to see Amanda disappear out of the wing. He sighed, feeling both elated and a little foolish. He was not sure what had possessed him to ask for her services. He hoped she would not be too terribly disappointed.

"My Lord, I must protest this in the extreme!" cried Farro as he raced down the corridor to keep up with his sovereign.

Lord Duric sighed and finally stopped. "I didn't leave it open to debate," he said flatly.

"The army is not ready!"

"You have been saying that for the last few days. If I gave you another few days, or a quarter moon, or more than that, you will still claim they are not ready."

Farro was exasperated. "Yes, but there are different levels of unreadiness, my Lord."

Duric leaned against the wall of the corridor, swiping his face with his hand. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but he was already exhausted. "Farro, either be more specific, or withdraw your objection. I don't have time for this."

"We are still short on weapons and material," Farro said. "We have yet to completely secure an adequate supply line to the base camp we are planning outside of Weton's Manor."

"What about men? Are we ready there?"

"That is fortunately the one area I do not have issue with. Many able-bodied men responded to the call and morale is high."

"Then that will have to sustain us. Now, excuse me ..."

Duric turned and continued down the corridor.

"Wait! My Lord!" Farro ran and stepped in front of Duric, stopping him again. "You can't expect me to start sending them through this early! Not by dawn!"

"I have little choice in the matter, Farro! You heard the report yourself from Janna! The Emperor has quite possibly already launched his attack against Colos. We do not have time."

"Yes, but Janna has not even given us the information about the Imperial patrol routes ..."

"I have faith in her, Farro. She told me she has a plan to acquire them, and I trust her."

Farro sighed and shook his head, but did not utter a word of further protest.

"Now, Farro, please tell me something more useful," Duric said in a pleading tone. "Is the Mage ready at Weton's end?"

"He says he is. He believes he can hold the Portal open from dawn until midday before he will need to let it 'rest' as he puts it. Then he can reopen it before dusk and hold it until midnight."

"How long to get the whole army through, Farro?"

"If everything goes well, if proper discipline is maintained, and the Mage can continue holding the Portal open, just about one day."

Duric considered for a moment. "See if the Mage can hold the Portal open longer than that. If so, we can send more supplies through until they are ready to march. It might help the supply situation some."

"Marginally," Farro said with a bit of a sour tone to his voice.

"Better than nothing."

"It would help to know how many forces the Emperor has left behind in defense of the Imperial Palace," Farro said.

"I will ask Janna when she contacts me again." Duric looked past Farro as he spoke. His lips curled into a small smile.

Farro noticed his Lord's distraction and turned around as Amanda trotted up to them.

"Finished with your research, Amanda?" Duric asked.

"Yes, Master, I'm done with it now," Amanda replied.

"Ready to show everyone what you know?"

Amanda hesitated a moment. "Right now, Master?"

"I was headed to a meeting with my immediate staff about the war preparations. I think it would do them well to have a reminder of what it was like the last time Oceanus was embroiled in war."

Amanda slowly nodded, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "Yes, Master, of course."

Farro furrowed his brow and looked back to Duric. "My Lord, are you serious?" he asked in a low voice.

Duric lifted his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

"Are you truly going to have her recite what she memorized at the library?"

Amanda balked a bit at this assessment, but it was Duric that answered for her. "Not memorized, Farro, learned. And I wish you to come along as well."

"Me? Why me, my Lord?"

"I want you to carefully observe everyone's reaction to Amanda as she talks to them."

Farro looked confused. "I don't understand."

"It's quite simple, Farro. Get a parchment and take notes during the meeting. I want to know how each member of my staff is reacting. Is he interested? Bored? Riveted? Inattentive?"

"Why do you want me to ...?"

"I will enlighten you later. Just do as I ask of you."

Farro rolled his eyes and sighed. "Very well, my Lord. I suppose my other duties will just have to get themselves done."

Duric smirked as Farro headed down the corridor ahead of them, shaking his head. Amanda watched him go.

"Amanda."

Her gaze snapped back to Duric. "Master?"

"Don't disappoint me now," he said solemnly. "I am counting on you."

"I'll do my best, Master." Even though I don't quite know exactly what it is you're looking for, she added in her head.

"Unacceptable! He must be made to answer to the Nobility!"

"We are not his lackeys that he can order about or disregard when the mood strikes him!"

"He has as good as torn up the Charter! He is unfit for the throne!"

"This is madness! He is acting no better than the barbarous kingdoms in the southern continent!"

"ORDER!!" Uras shouted. He thumped his hand on the table until it was aching and red. "We will have have ORDER at this Caucus!"

Gradually, the indignant shouts from the other Noble Lords quieted, but there was much side-conversation and heated debate between the members.

"Everyone, quiet down, now!" Uras bellowed. "All of you, sit down! This is a meeting of the High Lords of Oceanus, not a group of peasant rabble at a bazaar! You will show some decorum!"

"Someone tell that to the Emperor!" cried another of the Lords from the back, which started the others going again.

"That's quite enough, Lord Weeren," Uras said, pointing a meaty finger at him. "Don't stir up any more trouble than we already have."

Finally the Lords began to subside and take their seats. Uras let go a long sigh. In his other hand, he still held the parchment bearing the Imperial seal that contained the Emperor's rather succinct statement. It said: After due consideration of the arguments raised by the Lords of Oceanus, I have decided to remain on my present course and continue to pursue military action against Colos. I will entertain no further debate on the matter, and I expect the Noble Lords to dissolve their Caucus immediately. They are to vacate the palace no later than the third dawn, or their loyalties will be questioned.

He had not reached the last part of it, that of ordering the Lords to vacate the Palace three days hence. The room had erupted into protest before he had managed to read that far.

As explosive as the place was now, he felt reading it right at the moment would be akin to letting loose cannon fire in a tinder-dry, drought-ravaged forest.

"The rules of order will be followed," Uras declared. "You will seek to be recognized before you speak again. Yes, Lord Forrus?"

The silver-haired, somewhat gaunt-looking fellow rose from his seat. "What of this, Lord Uras? What is our next step?"

"That is what we are here to discuss," replied Uras, though there was not a lot of conviction in his voice. The truth was, he did not see anything else that could be done. It would be up to Duric now. He wanted to get the Lords safely away from the Imperial Palace before Duric's army arrived.

"Frankly, I do not see what more we can do. If the Emperor chooses to ignore us, we have little power to make him see reason."

"If he is capable of it!" piped another Lord, which started another round of shouts of indignation.

"QUIET!" Uras yelled. He took a deep breath once the others had subsided and turned to Forrus. "Your point is well taken, Lord Forrus. We may need time to reflect on this."

This started a wave of dark muttering among the others. It was clear that they did not want to wait any longer, that they wanted some sort of action or resolution now.

Or at least most of them.

Janna had been letting her attention wander. She had nothing to say because she already knew what her duty was. She had attended to show her support for Uras and the Caucus. She thought this would be the same for the others. But not only were there those that remained quiet or indifferent, but there were empty seats as well. Some Lords had chosen not to attend.

Janna turned to Tarras and brought this to his attention as another Lord was recognized and began to vent his frustrations to the Caucus.

Tarras glanced at the empty seats and the apparently complacent Lords. Some of them had begun quiet side-conversations with each other, having tuned out the proceedings entirely. "Yes, I thought as much," he said in a grave voice.

"Thought as much about what?"

"As much as we like to believe we are of one voice, it is impossible to get this many Lords on the same parchment."

Janna frowned. "I don't understand."

"The Colosian Ambassador was not very confident of his chances after the audience with Z'haas. He did a little talking with the other Lords. So they already had an idea that the Emperor would decide as he did."

"Yes, but that's all the more reason for them to be here, isn't it?"

"If they are still on our side."

Janna just stared at him. "What? You don't mean ..."

"Janna, you must understand, for two centuries now, the Nobility have been used to dealing their way through life as a means of acquiring power and prestige. Some of them are still mired in this way of thinking and see this as nothing more than another opportunity."

Janna looked aghast. "You don't mean they would side with Z'haas!"

Tarras gestured unobtrusively for Janna to lower her voice. "More likely they see the Emperor as being the one with the upper hand and wish to be on the winning side. Face it, Janna, if this fails, the Emperor will likely extract a violent and bloody revenge."

Janna had specifically tried not to think about it. Her clan would likely bear the brunt of such revenge.

Tarras settled back in his seat. "With luck, it will be for naught. Duric will succeed, and those Lords will see more opportunity in remaining solidly behind the others. It will be over and forgotten."

Janna nodded slowly, but looked over to the empty seats with apprehension. She would be glad to return to her position at Duric's court. She would have no more desire to be among the High Lords. She would not want to have to live with the idea that some of them could possibly betray the others were a better opportunity to come along.

When Amanda had arrived in the meeting room with Duric, hardly anyone there gave her more than a glance. A few with whom she had trysted added a smile and a nod, but otherwise did not give her any further attention. The only one present that was at all distracted was a man sitting on a chair in the corner. His pants were down and Tanyee was kneeling between his legs, his manhood in her mouth.

To Amanda's surprise, Duric actually interrupted him. "I know how much you are enjoying my Tanyee, Roolan, but I will need everyone's attention right now."

Roolan looked a bit taken aback, but Tanyee took Duric's words as a command. She dropped him from her mouth and rose to her feet. She gave him an apologetic smile before turning away from him.

Farro shook his head and plopped himself heavily into a seat. He situated a piece of blank parchment before him on a rectangular platter. He produced a quill pen and dipped it into a nearby ink pot on the table.

Duric gestured to some of the others that were still standing. "Please, everyone, take a seat. I need your undivided attention. Or rather, Amanda here does."

At least one person that was in the process of sitting down froze and exchanged an odd look with a cohort. A few simply furrowed their brows in confusion. At least one actually rolled his eyes.

Amanda was not looking forward to this.

Duric gestured for Amanda to join him where he stood at the head of the table. As she did so, he turned to those assembled. "We're about to embark on a major military campaign," he began in a grim voice. "This is the first serious battle that anyone in Oceanus has faced in two centuries. The last time anyone did so was the famous Battle of Selemas Keep. I once heard someone say 'we ignore the lessons of history at our own peril' ..."

Amanda looked at Duric with mild surprise. It was very similar to a saying back on Earth.

" ... thus I have had Amanda here read everything she could about the battle so that she may tell you about it. I urge you all to pay attention."

Duric stepped back and gestured towards the spot right at the head of the table. Her heart thumping, she took her position and looked out over the others. Many of the eyes staring back had a noticeable degree of incredulity to them.

"Go ahead, Amanda," Duric said softly, taking a step back and folding his arms as he listened.

For a moment Amanda was too scared to say a word. Her eyes kept searching for some sign of someone sympathetic to her plight. She suddenly felt embarrassed by her nudity, as if the very thing she had grown so used to over the past season was now terribly out of place.

"Um ... w-well ... if you want to understand the battle itself ... you have to go back and learn the causes that led up to it," she began. "Since nothing in history exists just by itself ..."

Much to her surprise, it got easier the longer she continued. She stopped focusing on everyone looking at her and let the words flow. It was as if she were back in school. She had been one of the few students in the class that had actually preferred to do oral reports up in front of the class instead of written ones. Most of the other students avoided it at all costs. For her, it things came to her better when spoken than in writing.

When Amanda finished, it seemed like hardly any time at all had passed. She finally allowed herself to get a good look at the others at the table. To her surprise, a few looked as if they had been listening intently the whole time. A few wore only polite faces of attention. A few appeared to have gone about some other business entirely.

But no one openly mocked her, either by eyes or by words.

In the silence, she was aware of the scratching of Farro's pen across the parchment. Amanda was curious as to what he was doing, but before she could try to catch a glimpse of what he was writing, Duric called out to her.

"Amanda, that was quite well done," he said.

Amanda could tell he was sincere. She smiled. "Thank you, Master."

Duric gestured to Tanyee. She immediately stood and came to his side.

Duric turned to the others. "I hope all of you were listening. That battle is a tribute to clear strategic thinking. The Monarchists were as careful and thoughtful as they were bold. We need to be the same way. Every one of us. Now ... Farro and I have a bit of private business. We will return shortly. Tanyee and Amanda are available for more traditional pleasures if you wish it of them."

Farro stopped and looked up in mid-scratch. He hurriedly finished his thought and followed Duric into the hallway.

"Yes, my Lord?" Farro asked, his tone of voice a bit wary.

Duric closed the door. "You took notes as I asked?"

"Yes, indeed. Here ..."

Duric accepted the parchment from his adviser. He glanced over it and handed it back. "Now, rate them on a scale of one to ten."

Farro furrowed his brow doubtfully but retrieved the parchment and took the pen to it. A few scratches later he finished and handed it back to Duric.

Duric looked it over for a long moment. Then he slowly nodded. "As of dawn tomorrow morning, anyone on this list with a score lower than seven is to be removed from his position immediately."

Farro's jaw dropped. "What?!"

Duric folded his arms. "Farro, the reality of the situation is that there is every chance that this campaign will fail. If so, we have dark days ahead of us. I need people that can accept radical ideas, and that will accept my leadership without question. If I tell them that a slave has something important to say to them, I expect them to accept it and listen. I have no time or patience for people that feel they can pick and choose what is important to them."

Farro was absolutely stunned. His initial reaction had been that this was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. But when he stopped for a moment to think about it, considering who it was coming from, he realized that it was brilliant. Duric often lamented in private about having no means to "test" those members of his staff with whom he had difficulty working to see if they were worth keeping around. Amanda had provided him a means to do it.

When Farro looked at the list again, and at the people who would be terminated from their positions by sunrise, he had to admit that he would not be sorry to see any of them go.

Farro finally nodded firmly. "I will get right on this, my Lord."

Duric clapped him on the shoulder. "We need to move fast and sure, Farro. It's time to get rid of the dead weight."

Q'yros paused at the threshold, his hand still on the large, brass knob of the door. He had used up so much of his formerly powerful reserves that he no longer used magic for trivial matters such as opening doors. He could not afford such a luxury anymore.

He uttered a tired sigh as he looked out over the room where he had originally cast the complex mapping spell. If the magic were not so delicate, he would have called on the Palace Mage to assist him with the actual spell casting. Though he was already taxing the man to the point where the young Mage would have to take a leave of absence from his post to regain his spent energies.

Q'yros threw the door shut behind him with a slam that shook dust from the rafters.

He stepped up to the large table that dominated the room and thumped his staff three times on the floor. He then pulled it up more fully into his hand and swept it across the table. The magic flowing from him induced a mild draining sensation, something that he found not simply unpleasant but rather sickening. It felt as if his own life force were being sucked dry, even though he knew this was not the case.

The image of the lower sections of the Palace re-formed before him, though it was weak and indistinct at first. He waved a hand over it in frustration and solidified the image a bit more.

"Show me Janna at dawn." Q'yros called out.

A flickering light dutifully appeared in the cafe in the courtyard.

"Show me Janna last night."

The light shifted to her room.

"Last evening!"

It moved to the edge of the gardens.

"Yesterday afternoon!"

"Midday yesterday!"

"Yesterday morning!"

"Yesterday at dawn!"

"Night before last, blast it!!"

And still, the spell showed Janna nowhere but where she was supposed to be, ensconced in the sector of the Palace reserved for the Noble Lords, no pattern to indicate she was planning anything whatsoever.

With a great, guttural cry of frustration, Q'yros grabbed the staff at the end with both hands and brought it down with all his might atop the solid stone table. There was a great crack, and then a thunderous boom as the stone table fell apart into two pieces. The image of the Palace seemed to hang in midair above the wreckage for a few moments until it flickered out.

Panting, Q'yros picked up his staff as he surveyed the damage. He placed a shaking hand against a column to steady himself and paused to catch his breath.

Like most Mages, he liked control. Mages had an innate need to be in control of a situation. This is why most monarchs do not take a Mage as an adviser, because they know that given the chance, the Mage would want to run the show. Not that a Mage would usurp the throne, but the clash of personalities would be such that nothing would get done.

Q'yros had been slowly losing control of the situation ever since he had become Z'haas' so-called adviser. It was no better even after having been removed from the position, for he doubted that the situation was ever in control to begin with.

The Mage suddenly threw his head back and laughed as he straightened up. He looked back towards the table. A thought had struck such a chord of absurdity that he simply had to let go. If he had indeed found Janna someplace where she should not be, or had detected some pattern to her movements, he was not sure what he would have done with the information.

He sighed as he folded his hands over the end of his staff. There was a danger to the south, from Duric. Q'yros had taken personal charge of the Imperial patrols because of his conviction. If they were to strike, it would be soon.

Yet again he wondered: what would he have done had he found any evidence that Janna was helping pave the way for Duric's army? Was his frustration over her, or the Emperor? The Emperor was playing a dangerous game. If Q'yros had not been on the inside, had not been able to detect Portals, had not known about the greater threat to Oceanus, he and the Guild would have silently sided with the Lords.

Q'yros turned and headed quietly out of the room, never having felt more tired in his life.

Rallas fixed Amanda with a cold, hard stare. Amanda managed to remain still before him, holding her ground. She had even held the urge to cringe in his presence at bay.

"You cannot choose not to service me tonight," Rallas said in an icy voice.

"I am sorry, Master, but I have another commitment this evening."

"There is no such thing! Not for a slave. Not for a thing."

Amanda inwardly bristled. She had to resist clenching her hand into a fist. She had to stop herself from making any move or comment whatsoever that could be construed as disobedience.

"I am sorry, Master, but Master Duric's orders to me were very clear."

Rallas glowered at her over his desk. "Oh, were they now?" Rallas said in a mocking tone of voice. "Did he indeed tell you specifically that you were not to service me? Because he should know that would renege on this little arrangement."

Amanda's heart thumped, but she continued to keep her voice steady. "No, Master, he did not tell me specifically not to service you."

"Then what did he say? What did he say that your addled brain is obviously misinterpreting?"

She hesitated a moment, not so much for herself as the worry that Rallas would take this out on Warlos later. "I mentioned to Master Duric that Master Warlos was very helpful in my task. I asked if I should make myself available to Master Warlos. Master Duric's exact words were 'feel free to attend to that duty whenever you wish it.'"

Rallas' eyebrows shot up. "You are lying."

Amanda had not taken into account that Rallas would not believe her. Nevertheless, she had to forge ahead. If Rallas did not accept her word, she would at least have the satisfaction afterward of knowing that Rallas would be in trouble with Lord Duric. "I am sorry if this has spoiled your plans for me, Master," Amanda said in as courteous a voice as she could. "But Master Duric was very clear on the matter."

"Very clear? It is clear that he is a fool!"

Amanda very nearly said "Would you like me to tell him that" but very wisely held her tongue and remained silent. Act as a slave would, she told herself. That was never so important as it is now. Slaves follow orders. I am following an order.

"You are telling me that he gave you control of your own feelings in the matter! That your thoughts counted!"

Would a true slave react to that? Amanda did not think so. She remained silent.

Rallas smacked his hand on the desk and stood. "And you choose to make this tonight?!"

He said the word as if it were an epithet. The way he spoke it made a mockery of it.

Amanda had to force her voice to remain steady as she spoke. "I am following Master Duric's command, Master Rallas. He stated I was to select the time and follow through on it. I choose tonight."

"Only because you do not wish to service me! Because you know you will be punished tonight for the poor excuse for a slave that you have been all these nights with me!"

For once, Amanda was not upset to hear her slave skills disparaged. She was quite sure that she wanted nothing from Rallas, not his punishments and not his accolades either. She did not want to feel any more tainted by him than she already did.

Even though Rallas had not hurt her, the sheer indignity of what he did to her was going to be with her for awhile. She was not completely cognizant of it herself quite yet, but it had hurt her emotionally. Being treated like an inanimate object was almost like being raped. It was disturbing her sleep. Each night she awoke at least once to nightmarish images of Rallas and far more brutal physical torture than he had actually done to her.

This imagery was simply a manifestation of the emotional torture she felt she had endured.

But Amanda could still play the part of the good slave. And a good slave did not respond unless she were asked a question or given a direct command. She remained silent, much to Rallas' continued frustration.

Rallas leaned over his desk, his face a contorted and ugly mask of rage. "You conveniently choose the last night! The last time I can command you! The last time you have any obligation to me! You are not a slave, you are a deceitful, scheming little bitch."

Amanda's jaw tightened. There were so many things she wanted to say in response. So many ways she wanted to make her anger and indignation towards him known. Yet she did nothing. She remained quiet and still. Frankly, she loved the irony that the very thing that was getting him more and more upset was her acting like a good slave.

Amanda would never know if she had let any of her true feelings show. A flicker in the eyes, perhaps, or a twitch of her face. All she knew was that Rallas suddenly lunged across the desk at her, and before she could think to retreat, there was a vicious slap. The next moment, Amanda's head snapped to one side and she stumbled back a step.

When she had recovered, her cheek was burning from where Rallas' hand had impacted with it, the shape of his fingers imprinted in angry red on Amanda's skin.

This time, there was no way she could disguise her emotions. Her eyes reflected burning hatred when they turned back to Rallas.

Rallas thrust his arm towards the exit. "Fine. You are released from your obligation to me by Lord Duric's orders. Now, get out."

Amanda did not even bother to acknowledge it with a proper "Yes, Master." She simply turned and dashed out of the chamber before he could change his mind.

For the first time in a long while, Amanda felt homesick.

Entering Warlos' modest but comfortable quarters was like stepping into the house of a kind, elderly relative back on Earth. Except for the lack of appliances, the very warm and homey feel of his cottage was hauntingly familiar. It was very much like the way she had sometimes fantasized the house of a grandparent would look like, if she had ever been fortunate to acquire one by adoption.

At one point, her eyes had misted over and she had to avert her gaze from him. She feared he took it the wrong way at first, for he was very awkward with her after that. It was only after she got to know him better that she discovered he was simply nervous of this encounter.

As they stepped across the threshold of his bed chamber, he hesitated and drew his robe around his body more tightly. "Amanda ... maybe we ... I-I don't feel right about this. I'm so old compared to you."

Amanda paused a moment. Her eyes drifted down, where she spied a bulge below his waist. His gesture had drawn the material of the robe tightly across it, as if trying to minimize it.

"Master, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," Amanda said softly. "But ... can we just lie together in bed? I think I would like that."

Warlos managed a small smile but sighed. "Well, I suppose we could, as long as you don't expect ... expect ..."

He furrowed his brow as he stared at her.

"What is it, Master?"

"Here, come over to the light," Warlos said, gesturing as he headed over to one of the lamps hanging from an iron hook on the wall beside the bed.

Amanda complied. She realized at once what it was all about as soon as he lifted a hand gently to her chin and nudged her into turning her head. She heard him gasp. "Amanda! Who hit you?!"

"It's all right, Master, please."

"Amanda, who did it? Was it Rallas?"

Amanda hesitated. "Yes."

Warlos dropped his hand and clenched it into a fist. "That ... that ... that monster ..." he muttered as he turned away.

Amanda's lips parted in surprise.

"I mean, it's one thing to order around a slave! But you're still a girl, a-a person, you deserve to be treated with some respect! I mean, you can't just raise your hand to ... what ...?"

Amanda had suddenly rushed forward and hugged him tightly from behind.

Warlos paused and swallowed. He was breathing a little hard. He could feel her warmth through the thin material of his robe. He found it delightful, something he had not experienced for a very long time.

"Um ... Amanda?" he spoke tentatively.

"Thank you," Amanda gushed softly, a few tears wetting his robe.

"Oh my ... I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean ..."

"You are such a sweet man, Master Warlos."

Warlos' eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink. "I don't think anyone has ever said that to me before."

"Let me please you. Let me make you happy like you just did me."

Warlos swallowed. Now he was starting to get thoughts that he had not had in some time. "Amanda ... I-I'm not sure I could ... could ... o-oh my ..."

One of Amanda's hands had found the bulge under his waist and was caressing it lightly. His manhood had been only partially hard, but now it slowly began to expand under her touch. When it was fully erect, she found the fold in his robe and slipped her hand underneath it.

"Oh good gods, Amanda ..." Warlos breathed as her fingers curled around hard flesh.

Amanda smiled. "You're not so old as you make yourself out to be, Master Warlos."

Warlos took a deep breath. In an emotionally laden voice, he said, "You don't know how much that means to me ..."

"About as much as your words meant to me."

Warlos remained silent. He stopped objecting. For the first time in years, he felt like he needed this type of intimacy now. His only remaining fear was that he believed he had forgotten exactly what to do first.

Amanda rescued him most admirably. She initiated it and simply coaxed him into following her lead. This suited her fine, as she wanted to direct things herself. She wanted to make this something that she was giving him.

Warlos tried valiantly once to assume a more traditional role, but Amanda stopped him. She had him roll onto his back instead. If there was any disappointment on her part, it was that he would not completely remove his robe. He was too self-conscious about his aged body. Amanda nudged his robe open little by little until she could let her body settle against the naked flesh of his.

Amanda had been right. He didn't look as old as he made himself out to be. He still had a handsome, distinguished air to him. And his manhood had not suffered from his advancing years. It had flagged a bit as they transitioned to the bed, but a few gentle strokes with her fingers and it was hard and pulsing in her hand.

Warlos could not hide his surprise at his own body's response. Amanda found this to be more endearing than amusing. There was no mistaking his feelings, however, when his manhood began sliding into her depths. He was so taken by the experience that it was almost as if it had been his first time.

Amanda was in no hurry. She rode him slowly, letting him enjoy the sensation of her body pressed against his with each down stroke. He finally grew a little bold, his hands sliding over her rear and gently squeezing the soft flesh. She drew herself up and coaxed him into taking her breasts.

Gods, look at me, Amanda thought, with some wry amusement. Teaching the joys of sex to someone four times my age. How sick would this be considered back on Earth?

Amanda didn't care. This was by her choice. She had consented to this completely. It was a relief just to know that she could be of her own mind again, that all her slave training had not driven any of her individuality from her.

Warlos was so taken by the experience he eventually dropped his arms to either side and let Amanda continue. Amanda was not at all upset by this. She wanted this to be a gift to him anyway.

Amanda felt herself growing close. She tightened her muscles and slowed her rise. Warlos sensed the tightening around his cock and gasped in surprise and delight. Amanda smiled at his reaction.

Slowly and smoothly, she drove him up and over. When he started to throb inside her, she let go and climaxed along with him, her own cries of pleasure joining his. She fell atop him and embraced him in mid-orgasm. His arms slid around her and hugged her tightly. This drove him into her deeper, the two of them panting into each others ear as their shared orgasm slowly played out.

"Oh great gods ..." Warlos moaned. "Oh Amanda ... that ... I ... I'm beyond words ..."

Amanda giggled and looked at him. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Master."

"That is an understatement, my dear! I cannot begin to thank you for this."

Amanda just smiled. She was so happy to have done it for him that it didn't matter how or if he could do anything in return. "Just tell me if there is anything else I can do for you, Master."

Warlos was silent for a long moment, his brow furrowing. "Oh ... but I couldn't ask that ..."

Amanda cocked her head.

"No. You've done so much already. It ... it would be a foolish request ..."

"No, please, what is it, Master?"

Warlos was silent for another long moment. "I ... I just thought ... now that the sex is over with ... I'd love to hear what you learned about Selemas Keep."

Amanda smiled, and then burst out into a fit of giggling.

"I knew you'd think it was foolish ..."

Amanda then surprised him by leaning down again and kissing him softly on the lips. "I would be happy to do that for you, Master ..."

Jollis ended the Farview on an upbeat note, something that had been very much lacking the past quarter moon.

How utterly clever of Amanda! Using Duric's words in such an inventive way to avoid Rallas' wrath. He was sure that Duric had not meant his words to be taken in that way. She might even face a bit of discipline from Duric for it. But that was very much preferred to anything that Rallas might dish out.

Jollis had fully expected to find Amanda in the most dire of straits, assuming that she could have even answered the Farview. It was a joy to find her on the patio of the Archivist's assistant Warlos. Amanda herself was upbeat as well. If she had lamented over anything, it was that she would have to delay talking to Sirinna yet one more night because she was to stay with Warlos until morning.

Jollis had need of good news. He was feeling increasingly tense as matters at the Imperium came down to the wire. He knew that as it got closer to the culmination of his plans, he would have less and less control over what happened. There was a point where he could no longer affect it, and he had to simply sit back and watch it unfold.

And he might not have the chance to do it from the relative safety of the Overlord's Manor.

Jollis had his cohorts do some research into Vanlo's background. The aging Healer was far more skilled with genetics that he had thought. Jollis had been a fool to let it go. He should have made the time to curb Vanlo's activities. But then again, even if he had found and damaged Vanlo's experiment, he might have very well left some bit of genetic evidence behind. Obviously he had done so when he had concocted the potion in Vanlo's office in the first place.

It came down to the fact that Vanlo would eventually tie Jollis to the "crime." Jollis' only recourse would be to murder Vanlo, but he could not see himself murdering someone over his own inadequacy.

Jollis picked up the Farviewing pearl. He had work to do. He needed to provide for his safe passage from the Manor. And he needed to do it quickly.

Time was no longer a luxury. For anyone.

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