The men and women that considered themselves among the ranks of the so-called Rogue Mages milled in loose groups within the Chamber of Equals at the Oceanus Mage Guild. They betrayed no notice or concern for the scowls of reproof from the Traditionalist Mage Elders or the bemused looks of the Empiricists. They engaged in idle chatter, the occasional smattering of laughter rising above the din of conversation, earning only more reproachful looks.

Few looked the part of a Mage. Absent were the traditional trappings of deep blue robes with braided sashes, nor did they sport clean-shaven faces for the men and long, straight hair for the women. Most of the men wore full beards or lush goatees, and the women cropped their hair short or tied it into buns upon their heads or tight braids down their backs.

One of the Mage Elders snorted and turned away, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as his face creased into a frown. He marched up to one of his colleagues and thumped his staff. "Pagh! Why are we treating with these ... these vermin?" Mage Elder Q'toll hissed.

Mage Elder Q'kollan turned, his hands folded before him, his gaze even and calm. Several other Mage Elders bent their ears towards the Guildmaster's adviser. "Because the Guildmaster insists that we do," he said in a neutral voice.

"Surely you did not agree to this? Granting them amnesty just to--"

"Temporary amnesty," corrected Q'kollan. "He added that at the other Mage Elders' insistence."

"Oh, don't you beset me with semantics! You know perfectly well that Guildmaster Q'garra intends to make it permanent."

"Under certain conditions, yes."

Q'toll sneered. "This is insanity. These Rogues have turned their backs on everything that the Guild stands for, and we are expected to welcome them with open arms?"

"One could argue that the Guild turned its back on them. Or have you already forgotten what the Empiricists have gone through?"

Several heads turned from among the Empiricists. Q'toll glanced at them, still scowling, but some of the conviction left his voice as he muttered, "That is altogether a different situation."

"Only because an Empiricist became Guildmaster," piped a female voice from among the Empiricists.

"He does not consider himself an Empiricist any longer, Master Q'yoona," said Q'kollan in a louder voice. He cast a hard gaze at the other Mage Elders. "We would all be better off if we remembered that. He represents the entire Guild and not just himself or one faction within it."

Katla Q'yoona glanced at the others and sighed when she saw they were not mollified by Q'kollan's words. The Mage Elders had been content to work with Uroddus as Guildmaster, but this had apparently been a step too far. Now some were wondering if they could have survived another few more years under the old Guildmaster's rule.

"He could have at least chosen a better place to hold this gathering," Q'toll declared. "Where they could be given the redress that they so richly deserve."

"That is precisely why he chose the Chamber of Equals," said Q'kollan. "To avoid such foolishness."

"Pagh! For everything that they put us through, we--"

"Hush, please," Q'kollan said, turning his head towards the entrance.

The expatriates were the last to quiet down as they, too, turned to look. More than one eyebrow rose, and at least one snickered.

Guildmaster Uroddus Q'garra stood in the entrance for another moment before advancing into the chamber. He adjusted his spectacles as he surveyed the Mages in attendance. He had hoped for a higher turnout among the Mage Elders. Uroddus had no authority to order the Mage Elders to come to the Chamber of Equals. Such was the nature of this place; participation was always voluntary.

Uroddus chose a position roughly between all three groups, and Q'kollan stepped forward to join him. Katla frowned. She wanted to stand by her lover, but Uroddus was adamant about showing no appearance of favoritism just because a fellow Mage shared his bed.

"Fellow Mages and expatriates," began Uroddus.

Already, some of the Rogue Mages were impressed. "Expatriate" was their own preferred term for themselves.

"I am not one for large speeches, thus I will get to the point. Oceanus has been conquered by a foreign power using Portal technology that is currently beyond our ability to replicate or block."

"Tell us something we don't know," an expatriate in the back called out. Several Mage Elders grumbled. Q'kollan caught the word "insolent" and frowned in the direction from which it had come until his fellow Mage Elders fell silent.

"You perhaps do not know the true danger that this Portal technology poses. They can extract memories of a particular person from those that know the person well and use them to open a Portal in the vicinity of said person."

The reactions of the expatriates were mixed. Some expressed shock. Some sighed in despair as if they had already guessed as much but hoped they had been wrong. One frowned and gave the Guildmaster an accusing glare with hard, dark green eyes set in a chiseled face.

Uroddus slipped off his spectacles and tapped them against his hand. Katla rolled her eyes. "We must come to an accommodation," said Uroddus. "We must find a way to bridge the chasm that has wrongfully been allowed to open between us."

"See? See, I told you!" Q'toll's disgusted voice floated above the muttering of the expatriates.

"This separation endangers both yourselves and the Guild, as many of you worked in close quarters with Guild Mages before you left, and in some cases, maintained those close relationships even after the separation."

"That's a diplomatic way to put it," Katla muttered.

"And, of course, the more expertise we can draw upon to--"

"Yeah, so that's what this is really all about," said the frowning green-eyed expatriate near the front of the group. "That's why you suddenly want to be nice to us. You want to save your own necks."

The other expatriates muttered amongst themselves. A few nodded their heads. The Mage Elders scowled deeper in response.

Uroddus put on his glasses. "To whom am I speaking?"

"Marlon will do."

"No honorific or clan name?"

"They don't deserve any!" shouted Q'toll, shaking his fist in the air.

"Master Q'toll, please!" Q'kollan snapped.

Q'toll pushed his way through the other Mages. "I will not be silent! If you wanted quiet, the Guildmaster should not have chosen the Chamber of Equals. I will speak my mind on the basis of that."

"I feel you would speak your mind in any case," said Q'kollan in a sour voice.

"Master Q'toll is correct," said Uroddus, drawing a look of mild surprise from Marlon. He turned to the Mage Elder. "Please speak what is on your mind, Master Q'toll."

Q'toll swept his trembling arm towards the expatriates. "They have abandoned their oaths of fealty to the Guild. They have turned their backs upon us. Why should you seek to honor them in the least? And why would they even bother to help us? Where were they during the invasion? Where were they when we were trying to protect the Noble Lords?"

Marlon stepped forward. "Are you quite serious, Mage Elder? Would you have really let us help, assuming we even knew what in blazing hellfire you were doing? Or did you conveniently forget that Guild Mages are told to report so-called Rogue Mages to the Emperor, who then has leave to execute us with no proper trial or appeal?"

"There is a reason for that! You are a menace. You sell your services to the highest bidder and to the hells with the consequences!"

Marlon laughed. "And the Mage Guild doesn't? Take a look at your own politics, old man. The Guild had long since sold itself out before we left. Why in hellfire do you think we chose to leave in the first place? You want to place the blame for why Oceanus fell? Just go look in the mirror."

Q'kollan leaned closer to Uroddus. He gestured and conjured a privacy shield around them. "You had best intervene before this gets ugly."

"You have no right to criticize the very Guild that you rejected!" Q'toll shouted. "If you were so concerned about its direction, then why didn't you stay and help correct it?!"

"Q'toll is quite excitable," said Q'kollan. "And he is one of the more powerful Mage Elders."

"Not yet," Uroddus replied.

Marlon sneered. "You spin fairy tales, old man. Q'ixanna would never have listened to us." He glanced at Uroddus. "The only reason any of us agreed to come was because of the change in regime, and even then most thought it was a trick. That's how much we don't trust the Guild."

"And if you had stayed, you could have been part of the driving force that ousted him from office!" Q'toll cried.

"And if more of you had joined us, his power over the Mages would have collapsed right then and there. Instead, you were all cowards more concerned about your tenure and your petty plays at political power."

Q'toll clenched his teeth and gripped his staff until his arms shook. "You treasonous little bastard."

"Ahem," Q'kollan said. "Guildmaster, if you would?"

"Not yet," Uroddus said.

"Cowardly sycophant," Marlon shot back.

"Undisciplined radical!"

"Obsolete fossil!"

"Rebel!"

"Tyrant!"

BLAM!

An explosion of green transport energy burst in a miniature nova between the two would-be combatants, hurtling them back. Marlon was caught by his comrades before he could fall. Q'toll was not as lucky and thumped to the floor, his staff clattering across the stones. His fellow Mage Elders appear faintly embarrassed, and it was a few moments before any of them moved to help his groaning form to his feet.

Q'kollan looked in astonishment at Uroddus. "You didn't do that, did you?"

Uroddus stepped forward into the midst of many similar stunned looks. Only the Mages associated with the historical archives observed with equanimity (or in some cases, mild amusement). "It is interesting the things that go forgotten when they fall into disuse. The chamber is spelled to detect when a debate has degraded to the point of potential physical or magical blows."

"Ah," Q'kollan said, smiling.

"Which means both of you have had your say," said Uroddus. "Now I will have mine."

Marlon glared as he straighted up, but there was a grudging admiration in his eyes as he watched the Guildmaster.

"I can use all the words at my disposal to tell you how the politics of yesterday are no longer the politics of today. I can explain how I intend to run the Guild in a manner fundamentally different from Q'ixanna. But they would be only words. You have no obligation to believe them or me.

"Nor can I ask -- or expect to receive -- forgiveness for the past actions of the Guild. Nor can I hope to determine who was right and who was wrong in the original dispute. The simple fact of the matter is: I do not care."

Several Mage Elders exchanged glances. Q'toll fumed, his face livid. Muttering started amongst the Empiricists. Katla just stared at Uroddus with intense curiosity.

Uroddus stepped up to Marlon. "To answer an accusation you made earlier: yes, I am indeed interested in protecting the Guild, and that is my primary motivation for contacting you."

Katla's eyes widened. Marlon tilted his head, eyebrows knitted. The other expatriates were riveted to Uroddus' words, even if a few still wore dubious faces.

"I will not claim that I had intended to seek rapprochement with the expatriates, as I do not know if that would have been a priority," Uroddus said. "I will not lie to you or utter meaningless promises. But I am truthful when I say that I do not want to see any Mages harmed, regardless of their formal association with the Guild."

Marlon narrowed his eyes and glanced at the Mage Elders. "And what about them? Can you tell me they're behind your words? That they care about what happens to us?"

Uroddus turned his head. Glares of anger had become more subdued looks of disapproval. Only Q'toll's eyes still blazed, but he said nothing.

"There's not one among them that doesn't think you should let the Inonni take care of their little problem," Marlon said. "Let the Inonni spirit us all away. Maybe the new-and-improved Guildmaster is wrong, and they won't get anything from our heads. Or maybe we wouldn't mind them using us to take you out! Small price to pay for allowing us to be murdered by the Imperial Guard!"

"There is no longer any such edict in force from the Imperium," said Uroddus.

"Of course not. Not when the Inonni want--"

"It was canceled by Emperor Z'garon at my request before the Inonni took over."

"What?!" cried a Mage Elder. He was hushed into silence by his peers.

Marlon paused and glanced at the Mage Elders, finding more surprised looks. He let out a sigh. "Fine. Let's say I believe you. What of it? You still expect us to come back to the Guild?"

"I don't expect anything. But I am asking you to consider it."

Marlon recoiled, but whether it was for what Uroddus had asked or simply that he had asked it was impossible to tell. He glanced at his fellow expatriates, as if looking for guidance. Some shook their heads. Some shrugged their shoulders. A few implored with their eyes for him to make the decision.

He looked at the Mage Elders again. "We don't want any part of your politics." He turned towards Uroddus. "And we don't want to be looked down upon as if we were something that one scrapes off his shoes."

"I can grant all of you permanent amnesty," said Uroddus.

One expatriate gasped, followed by an urgent murmur of conversation. Several Mage Elders scowled. Others simply looked on with equanimity. Some simply flicked their gaze back and forth, as if more focused on the confrontation itself than its outcome.

"But you cannot grant us respect," said Marlon. "No matter how progressive you may be."

"And he stops short of granting us proper Guild titles!" an expatriate cried in the back.

"We do not want them," Marlon shot back. "More politics!"

"I do not offer titles for several reasons," said Uroddus. "I hold no illusions that you would want to become fully integrated into the Guild again. In fact, from this point on, you are all free of any further harassment from the Guild."

"See here, you can't do that!" a Mage Elder cried.

"If any of the Mage Elders object, then by all means, speak your mind!" Uroddus announced. "But be prepared to offer logical arguments and facts. I will not accept emotionalism, vague accusations, or hearsay. If anyone has concrete evidence that any of these Mages have done anything to threaten life, property, or Imperial security, then present it now."

Several Mage Elders glanced about their ranks, as if imploring or daring their fellows to be the first to present an objection. Every last one of them had been subject to the Guildmaster's razor-sharp intellect in slicing a faulty hypothesis or false claim to shreds.

"We are not criminals," Marlon declared in a lower voice.

"I know," Uroddus said. "And you will no longer be treated as such."

Marlon sighed. "I do not speak for all of us. Some see me as a sort of leader, but I don't force them to follow me, and I don't make decisions for them. I can only take your words back to them, and they will have to decide for themselves. They will not be easy to convince that there has been any real change at the Guild."

"Are you convinced?"

Marlon looked Uroddus in the eye. "I don't know yet."

"Perhaps I can help. I have two things for you."

Marlon frowned as the Guildmaster reached into his robe and pulled out a bundle of scrolls tied with a ribbon. He flinched when the scrolls were presented to him.

"They contain words only and no hidden magic," said Uroddus.

Nevertheless, Marlon held his palm above the scrolls and murmured a short incantation. After a pause heavy with the anticipation of his brethren, he accepted the scrolls.

"These contain a summary of the work we have done in investigating the Inonni Portals," said Uroddus. "It also contains all the information we have on the Inonni themselves that we gathered during their initial conquest."

"No, stop! Do not give it to him!" croaked Q'toll in a raspy voice. He tried to push forward towards the Guildmaster, but other Mage Elders held him back. "They will sell it to the Inonni and let them know everything we know!"

While a few of the expatriates made disgusted noises, Marlon reacted only with a flick of his eyes to the other Mage Elders, as if looking for someone to echo Q'toll's accusation. He turned back to Uroddus and said in a softer voice, "You said you had something else for me, Guildmaster?"

Uroddus reached into his robe again and pulled out a blue pearl. He held it out to Marlon as low muttering broke out among the Mage Elders. "Take this, please."

Marlon eyed the runes upon the pearl, eyebrows shooting up. "A Farviewing pearl?

"Yes, so you can contact me at any time if you wish to discuss anything further. Or if you need help."

Several expatriates stared, wide-eyed, as Marlon plucked the pearl from Uroddus' hand. Marlon looked over the pearl, balanced it on his fingers, and carefully read all the runes etched into its surface. He nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said in a subdued voice. "Is that all you wish of us?"

"That is all. You may leave at your convenience."

Marlon stared at the pearl for another moment, then strode towards the chamber exit. The others followed, casting furtive glances at Uroddus as they trooped out.

Q'kollan came to his side. "You're taking a huge risk, Guildmaster, I hope you realize that."

"What risk?" said Katla as she stepped up to them. "We need them. You heard the Guildmaster. There's no real logical reason to hound them any further or keep them locked out!"

"As much as our esteemed Guildmaster wishes to change the political structure of the Guild, that will do nothing for the attitudes of the Mage Elders," said Q'kollan. "Some of which will never change no matter what we do or say."

"I did what I had to do," Uroddus said. "If I had waited for consensus, we would still be locked in pointless debate."

"Oh, I don't necessarily disagree with your actions. I simply wish there had been a more diplomatic way to do it. The Mage Elders may have initially heralded the reopening of the Chamber of Equals as a symbol of the end of Q'ixanna's reign, but now they grow irritated with it."

"I forced none of them to attend."

"You don't need to. Despite the grumbling, they still respect you." Q'kollan glanced at the Mage Elders, who spoke in secretive tones to one another. "We'll see how long that state of affairs continues."

"I will have to hope for the best," said Uroddus. "Katla, I sensed before the meeting that you had something about which you wanted to speak to me."

"It's not critical, at least it doesn't seem to be," Katla said. "But you wanted to be informed of anything unusual concerning the Inonni. Well, we may have seen something in the Portal scanning data."

"You are still tracking the Inonni portals?" Q'kollan asked. "I imagine we already have volumes of data in that regard."

"Nevertheless, I had asked that we continue scanning," Uroddus said. "I am hoping they will again open one of their more massive portals as they had once done for their navy. I am interested in learning more about their stabilization techniques. What did you find, Katla?"

"I should point out that it was faint and may be a noise anomaly." Katla handed Uroddus a parchment. "But we thought we detected a brief signature of an Oceanus-style portal, like the kind the Overlords used. We would have ignored it were it not for the fact that it actually emanated from the location of an Overlord Manor. Well, former Manor, anyway."

"Portals can exhibit power discharges when they are shut down for final dismantlement," Q'kollan said. "I imagine the Inonni are doing just that."

"Then we would see less of them over time, not more. And this was not so much faint as muffled, as if someone were trying to hide it, and we caught what leaked past their wards. And it was more like a power-up rather than a power-down."

"You could tell all that from this scant data?" said Uroddus as he looked up from the parchment.

"Only after some extensive mathematical derivations." She paused and glanced at Q'kollan. "And some rather sharp insight from a Traditionalist who saw something the Empiricists didn't."

"I am happy to see both sides working together more," said Q'kollan with a small smile.

"Master Q'kollan, please see to it that we get some of the Mage Elders looking at this as well," Uroddus said. "Perhaps including them more will mitigate some of their upset, and we could benefit from their experience."

"I doubt anything could truly placate them, but they are certainly motivated to investigate the Portals." He took the parchment from Uroddus and approached the Mage Elders.

Katla watched Q'kollan. "Do you really think this means anything, Uroddus?"

"On the surface, it would seem not," Uroddus replied. "But the Inonni do nothing without a reason, so we will keep an eye on this."

The wind whipped across the deck and tinged the air with moisture, whistling around the edges of the sails and blowing Gedric's hair into a disheveled mess. From the water's edge, he looked back at the crew that had so recently become his to command. They kept strained but sure hands upon the rigging to properly trim the sails in the rising wind. Timbers creaking, the ship dipped and swayed as it cut through the choppy waters towards the Urisi port that loomed ahead.

Gedric turned his gaze seaward as the wind lessened. In that moment's respite, boots scraped the deck behind him. His eyes narrowed on one of the escorting Urisi warships, which bobbed and listed as it followed a far less straight path in the rough water. Her sailors swarmed over the deck like ants with their leader killed, occasionally tangling their rigging lines with one another.

"It is well and good that we are soon to be in port, my Lord," said Gedric without turning around. "The weather does not bode well."

"I can only hope this is not an omen," rumbled Vortas.

"I suppose we should be glad that they did not sink us on sight." He stared at the Urisi ship again and sighed, nodding his head towards it. "Though now I doubt that they could. I am less than impressed with their prowess, I am forced to admit."

"The Urisi are not as experienced at seamanship. They do not need to be, having relied on Oceanus' protection for so long."

"But handling a ship in choppy waters is a very basic skill. They should never have been allowed--" Gedric stopped himself, then forced his voice softer. "Let me say simply that I am quite glad I did not inherit a crew that is anything like that."

Vortas clasped Gedric's shoulder. "Boddas ran a tight ship. You have a very fine crew at your command. And with regard to the Urisi, you must understand that we are now diplomats and must keep any disparaging opinions to ourselves. While I will be the spokesman for this fleet, we must take care to show a united front."

Gedric's eyes seemed to betray both relief and indignation at the mild reprimand in the space of but a single breath. "Of course, my Lord, my apologies."

"The fact that they are escorting us into port means they wish to treat with us. Most likely they will want to know why we went rogue. Individual ships have done it in the past, but an entire fleet is unprecedented."

"If I may ask, what will you tell them?"

Vortas took a step forward, folding his hands behind him and looking towards the Urisi ships. "The truth. I cannot imagine that they do not already have some idea what has happened. Perhaps they know more than we do."

"If that's the case, then, what use will we be to them?"

Vortas turned his head. "Pardon?"

Gedric paused, and conflict swept over his face. When he spoke again, Vortas had the sense that the man was measuring his words. "I do not look forward to life in some Urisi prison, and I am sure the crew feels the same way. I had hoped we would have something to offer them in exchange for allowing us to live in the Urisi Nation, but you imply that our information would be of little use to them."

Vortas let out a slow sigh and looked towards the Urisi ships again. "Perhaps we could offer our expertise."

"Will they accept that?" Gedric's question was voiced almost as a demand.

"Yes, if they now fear what Oceanus has become."

"Should they?"

Vortas gave him a humorless smile. "A foreign power conquers one of the largest nations in Narlass over the course of a single day and now commands the most powerful navy in the world. Yes, I believe they should be worried. This I will attempt to impress upon them."

Before Gedric could comment, his first mate ran up to them. He saluted and stood at rigid attention. "Beggin' yer pardons, my Lords!"

"At ease," said Gedric. "What is it?"

The first mate whipped out a parchment, which flapped in a gust of wind, the edges slightly tattered. "Signalman handed me this. Message fer the Lord Admiral from shore!"

Vortas nodded and took the parchment. The first mate saluted again and marched away. Vortas frowned and held it at the top and bottom to keep it straight in the wind. "Hrm."

"May I ask what it says, my Lord?" Gedric said.

The Lord Admiral thrust the parchment at him. "They wish a manifest."

"That does not sound too unusual."

"Of both our cargo and our men."

Gedric's eyes darted across the parchment. "Names, ages, description, points of origin..." He looked up. "Why?"

"I don't know, and that's what concerns me, for I had received another message a short while ago. I was told that the crew is to remain on our ships until notified otherwise."

"Could that not be part of the normal procedure?" asked Gedric. His voice rose. "We can rightfully refuse, can we not? Maritime law states that no crew need be forced to--"

"Maritime law no longer applies, Fleet Captain," said Vortas. "Remember that. As soon as we declared ourselves rogue and sailed into Urisi waters, we no longer can call upon the protection of that law."

"We have good men here, Lord Admiral. I don't want to see their skills go to waste."

Vortas considered, appearing as if he had not heard Gedric's last comment. "You said your proper name was V'riis. Your clan name is familiar."

Gedric said nothing, and regarded the Lord Admiral with a level gaze.

Vortas' eyebrows rose. "Was there not a clan by that name that was the Nobility of the Carolas Province?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Gedric in a low voice.

"And are you related to them in some manner?"

Gedric hesitated a heartbeat before he replied in a stronger voice, though his words sounded as if they rode upon a resigned sigh. "I was once mentored by the Carolas governor, Lord Tarras K'riis, before I decided to join the navy."

"Indeed? You were once Nobility?"

"I no longer have any direct ties to Nobility, Lord Admiral," Gedric declared. After a pause, he spoke in a softer voice. "And I share only the occasional letter with Lord Tarras. I have followed the Charter in this regard."

"I have no doubts of that, Fleet Captain, and that is not what had concerned me."

"What does concern you, my Lord?"

It sounded more like a demand than a question to Vortas' ears. He remained pensive, and looked towards the bow of the ship. "Perhaps nothing. In any case, we will be in port within a candlemark. Perhaps we will get some answers then. Carry on, Fleet Captain."

"Aye, my Lord," Gedric said in a strained voice as the Lord Admiral walked away.

Tarras trudged from the freshly-tilled field, sweat glistening on his brow in the crimson embers of sunset. The breeze was heavy with the odor of soil and fertilizer, but he cared only for its cooling touch on his overheated and overworked body. Muscles he had not exercised in some time groaned, which he was sure would become a strident scream by morning. Yet his pockets now jingled with fresh platinum, and he was set for another quarter moon.

He had expected to leave this patch of scraggly farmland behind and enjoy a secluded walk, and possibly stop by the shore of the nearby small lake to refresh himself before his rendezvous that evening. Instead, he saw the other peasant farmers, some residents of the village, and other itinerant workers like him form a line along one side of the field.

Tarras stretched his gaze towards the far end of the field, where a path ran along its border towards the main road. There, two Cohorts stood in silent assessment, their faces hidden by their hoods, hands folded before them.

Tarras joined the others, standing beside a man half his age. Soon a young woman stood by his other side. A Cohort appeared to look directly at him, and betrayed no reaction. Tarras wondered if no physical description had been circulated of him.

A man moved before the line, an elderly gentleman with flowing robes tattered by age and bearing the telltale stitches of past repair. Some of the patches did not quite match, giving him an odd, quilt-like look. He picked his way between two planted rows of seed. When the man stopped and turned towards the others, Tarras recognized him as the Village Elder. Soon he was joined by a middle-aged woman, the Maiden Elder. She bowed her head in silent reverence to him before turning to face the others.

A hush fell over the line. Tarras' curiosity was piqued, and he wanted to smile despite sensing he was about to witness something solemn and serious.

The Village Elder raised his arms. The Maiden Elder fell to one knee and lowered her head.

"The God of the Land blesses us with another fine spring," the Village Elder spoke. His voice was soft but carried easily in the respectful quiet. "We return His gift to us, to do as He sees fit. We give homage to Him, and only Him, in the hope that He may choose to make our offering take root."

The Village Elder paused. Tarras heard uneasy movements among the peasants. The Elder turned his head and glanced at the Cohorts for a moment. His voice rose. "We have no defilers here! We have no blasphemers!"

Tarras heard a quavering sigh to his left, and he turned his head before he could think better of it. The young woman that stood next to him had bowed her head and closed her eyes. She now drew in another breath and let it go, as if steeling herself.

The Village Elder lowered his hands and his gaze to the earth. "We are all one with the land and its God, the Giver of Life, the source of all our food and nourishment."

The Maiden Elder spoke, her voice high and thin. "God of the Land, as you bless the earth and make it fertile, so, too, make the maidens under my tutelage be fertile with their future husbands. I pledge to protect them, to keep them pure, to rescue them should they be lured by the call of the sea."

Tarras raised an eyebrow slightly but otherwise did not react.

The Maiden Elder stood and bowed her head to the Village Elder. Tarras heard feet scrape the ground beside him and a loud rustle of leaves. The troubled girl had vanished, a few waving branches of a nearby bush the only evidence of her passing.

The two Elders left the field, and the peasants walked towards the road leading to town. The Cohorts were already gone. Tarras headed in the opposite direction, finding a narrow path that wound through the heavy foliage that edged that side of the field, trying to retrace the girl's steps.

The respite had cooled him some, his sweat having dried. The last of the sun was falling behind the hills to the west, shadows stretching and fading into the distance. He was already late. No matter, as he had gained further insight into the life of the peasants.

They were a far more religious lot than the Nobility or the Overlords. All that had survived the descent into secular life was the random expletive. He had used them himself on occasion without knowing their origins.

"By the gods of land and sea" was an old naval phrase expressing shock or dismay. Tarras had always assumed it had been no more than a flowery way of saying "gods" or "by the gods." Now he wondered as to its deeper meaning.

And why the Cohorts made even the Village Elders nervous.

The foliage thinned. He was nearing the lake he had passed that morning while he had scouted out his rendezvous. He slowed as he heard a scrape of rocks and wood. As he advanced, he spied movement along the shore of the lake through the trees. He picked his steps so that his shoes touched only softer earth to muffle his steps. Finally, the trees fell away, and he found the young woman that had left in such haste.

She was crouched beside a collection of twigs, bark, and dried leaves, her back towards him. She struck two rocks together, faint sparks showering the kindling. As Tarras watched, a wisp of smoke curled from the center of the pile. She set the stones aside and with careful breaths nursed it into a small, crackling fire. Smoke wound and twisted into the velvet sky.

As the woman rose, Tarras ducked down. She looked around with furtive, nervous glances, then reached into her dress. Her closed fist emerged a moment later.

Tarras leaned around a bush for a better view as she turned away from him. She opened her palm, and revealed a small handful of seeds from the ones they had just planted.

The young woman sprinkled some of the seeds into the fire. They crackled and popped with tiny flickers of light. She dropped to one knee and bowed her head, murmuring words that Tarras could not hear. She raised her eyes to the sky and concluded what he could only guess was a prayer.

She stepped past the fire and towards the shore of the lake. She threw the remainder of her seeds into the water, again dropping to one knee and uttering another prayer.

Tarras burned with many questions. Yet he assumed whatever she was doing was illicit, and he did not want to scare her more than perhaps the Cohorts already had. He waited with forced patience and cramping muscles until she had put out her fire and left.

Tarras emerged into the small clearing. Evening was about to give way to night. Already, the brighter stars were in attendance in the heavens. He searched the site of the woman's secret ceremony for clues as to its meaning but found nothing. With a small sigh, he advanced past the clearing and down a path that descended into a narrow ravine. Fire light flickered from an opening in the ridge that rose to his right. He entered it, and found himself in a small cave.

Rennis rose from the furs he had spread before his fire. "About damn time you got here."

Tarras looked up as he entered. In the center of the ceiling of the small cave was an opening to the sky. The breeze blew across it and drew the smoke from the fire into the darkening skies. "What is this place?"

"How in the blazing hells should I know?" Rennis snapped. "A shelter of some sort, I guess."

"Apologies for my tardiness," said Tarras. "Where is Trennan?"

"He couldn't make it, but he passed on some information to me."

"About the rogue fleet?"

Rennis nodded. "Yes. And unless you can tell me otherwise, it may mean a lot of trouble for us. Do you know of someone named Gedric V'riis?"

Tarras' eyebrows rose. "Gedric? Why, yes, I do."

"I suppose there is little hope that you know him only by name."

"Indeed not. I had been asked to groom him for future Lordship, perhaps even to succeed me one day. I was his mentor for, oh, about eight years before he decided he did not want a life of Nobility. Which was a shame, actually."

"Hellfire," Rennis muttered.

"Is there a problem?"

"I'll say there is. Your former protege is assigned to the rogue fleet."

Tarras looked surprised. "But that is not what I had last heard."

"You kept tabs on him? That may be even worse!"

Tarras frowned. "I do not let such relationships fall by the wayside, Rennis. While he chose to pursue a naval career, he is a fine man regardless, and I was happy to offer any advice he may wish to receive, much like Duric did before he became Emperor. But he had been assigned to pirate duty with the Eleventh Fleet."

"Well, according to Trennan's sources, he had himself reassigned to the Sixth just as the civil war broke out."

"But that ... ah ... yes, that is what I had forgotten," said Tarras with a small sigh. "In his last missive, he had lamented that they were about to make him Fleet Captain, and he did not desire that post. I should have realized that the lure of action in a protracted civil war would be more to his liking."

"Missive? You don't Farview each other?"

Tarras shook his head. "The Charter decrees that naval officers are to have no such contact with the Nobility, in order to keep them free from Noble influence and thus answerable only to the Emperor."

"You realize what this means, Tarras? This is why the Emperor was forced to try to intercept the fleet."

Tarras smiled faintly. "From the operative word you used, may I assume that the attempt was unsuccessful?"

"We don't have any definitive word, but, yes, some sea merchants reported seeing ships of the Sixth well east of distant plumes of black smoke. And this means trouble for you."

"And why is that?"

"Can't you see it for yourself? The Inonni want Gedric! They want to use him to get to you! If he knows you well enough, and they can get at those memories--"

"And this is precisely why I have said that no man among us should be so important that--"

"Blast that, already!" Rennis thundered. "You're a symbol of this resistance whether you like it or not."

Tarras sighed and winced. His day's toil was catching up with him. His whole body ached, and he wanted to collapse by the fire. "Then what are we to do?"

"I'm not sure there is anything we can do. By now, the Inonni have likely told the Urisi to arrest this man on sight and send him back by fastest Portal."

Tarras hesitated as he struggled to concentrate against the growing pain and exhaustion. He finally shook his head. "No, I do not believe it will be that simple."

"Why?"

"Because the Emperor would have warned me if the Inonni were that close to apprehending me."

"But you said yourself that he no longer Farviews you because the Inonni listen in!"

"Yes, but Duric is a man of honor, and he values our long friendship. I feel if he knew I was in imminent danger, he would let me know somehow. No, something is stalling the process, and it is likely the Urisi."

Rennis was about to retort when he finally noticed his companion's state. "Good gods, Tarras, are you all right? You look like you will fall over at any moment."

Tarras trudged towards the fire and sat before it, wincing again as he fell to the ground harder than he had intended. Rennis lay a steadying hand on his shoulder, but Tarras shook his head. "I am all right. Just too much work for a man made soft by Noble Lord duties and intellectual pursuits."

Rennis crouched beside him. "All right, I think I understand you. This is about Urisi sovereignty, right?"

"Something like that. They would want to know why the Inonni want this man incarcerated."

"So wouldn't the Inonni simply invent some story about him being a criminal?"

Tarras shook his head. "Brigands tend not to make their way into the navy let alone rise to the rank of Captain. The Urisi would never believe such a blatant lie, and the Inonni likely know this. And it would spur his crew to defend his honor. Gedric is not just a brilliant tactician, but he treats his men with respect and honor, just as I taught him to do when he was still under my tutelage." Tarras paused. "Which means that the Inonni may not have told the Urisi that they want any one specific man."

Rennis frowned. "That's a huge leap of logic, Tarras."

"Perhaps. And I do admit to applying a large dose of wishful thinking. And it gives us something to do."

"Such as?"

"Getting word to the Urisi of exactly who the Inonni want."

Rennis stared. "Are you mad?! Then they would find a way to spirit him off his ship and turn him over to the Inonni!"

Tarras considered. "Why?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? To avoid stirring up trouble."

"You're assuming that the Urisi are frightened of Inonni power."

"They should be!"

"But they have not seen what we have seen," said Tarras. "They likely do not know quite how the Inonni took over, other than rumors and wild speculations. And if their Mages are as insular as the Oceanus Mages were, then they will likely disregard any lurid stories of extraordinary Portal magic. No, the Urisi will be playing this like the true politicians they are. They will want to find a way to profit from this, or, failing that, to hurt Inonni interests."

Rennis frowned. "How about this scenario: They decide to profit from it instead by turning Gedric over to the Inonni in exchange for platinum."

Tarras was silent for a moment. "Yes, there is that possibility."

"Fine thing to gamble your life against. Or Gedric's."

Tarras shot to his feet despite his aching body, his eyes blazing through the exhaustion. Rennis stumbled back a step. "Do not tell me about gambling on a life! Gedric was like a son to me, and I have already lost one to the previous Emperor! And then I had compounded that loss when Janna was taken from me! I do not need a cowardly former Overlord to tell me about risks to those close to me!"

Tarras' voice rose until his final words were bellowed, a momentary eerie echo following in its wake when he fell silent.

Rennis stared, still as a statue, eyes wide in shock. Tarras' shoulders slumped as he turned away. He heaved a single long sigh that was almost a sob. "I withdraw that last idiotic statement."

Rennis shook his head. "No, you're right."

Tarras turned, looking older than when he had first arrived in the cave. Rennis did not fare much better in the fading light as the flames dwindled.

Rennis trudged towards a small pile of dried, dead wood and crouched beside it. "You want the truth? I'm scared out of my wits." He tossed a piece on the fire and poked the embers with a long stick until air fed the flames once more. Rennis stared at the fire, uttering a small sigh, unable to bring his gaze to his companion's. "I don't know why. It's not like I think the Inonni are going to kill me. Hellfire, for all I know, Roquan is quite comfortable and content right now."

Tarras strode forward. "Comfortable, perhaps, but likely far from content. Like you."

Rennis looked up. "I'm scared about the stupidest thing. That I won't ever have a Manor to run and slaves to own."

Tarras nodded and eased himself down before the fire.

"Dammit, Tarras, I know the Overlord system wasn't perfect. Maybe ... maybe Amanda had a point about how ... well ... how unfair it was to pluck slaves from other worlds. But we cared about them. We worried about their health and well-being. We wanted good Masters and Mistresses for them. Just what in blazing hellfire are the Inonni trying to prove?!"

"To be honest, Rennis, I no longer know."

Rennis stared. "You don't know something? Now I really am scared."

Tarras offered a weak smile.

"I don't know what to do with myself," said Rennis. "That's really the worst part of it."

"You're doing a fine job of being a courier for our group."

"That's not what I mean. Even if we somehow perform a miracle and send the Inonni back where they came from, I doubt we could ever restore things to the way they were. That's over. For good."

"Try telling that to Trennan. Ah, excuse me, Overlord Trennan."

"But maybe he's right, in a way," said Rennis. "You said if anyone is going to get rid of the Inonni, it would be the peasants. Even if we cannot bring back the past, we can be the authority figures the peasants have come to expect. If they're going to move against the Inonni, they have to be guided. Maybe that's more the purview of Noble Lords such as yourself, but Overlords commanded respect from the peasants that worked the lands around the Manors."

Tarras was silent. He stared into the fire, pensive.

"We need to start acting like Lords and Overlords again, Tarras, even if from the shadows. Wasn't it you that said something about 'hearts of men' to Emperor Z'garon?"

"Indeed," Tarras said without turning his head.

"So that's what we need here. Hearts of men. The peasants, under the guidance of proper leadership. I mean, doesn't that make sense to you?"

Tarras considered for a long moment. He recalled the ceremony earlier that day, and the unwavering attention of the peasants on the Village Elder.

"Yes," said Tarras. "I believe it does."

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