No telltale bolt from the black announced the Wanderer's arrival this time. He had been transported to this spot early that morning, well to the east of his quarry where the rising sun would cover his arrival. He had holed up under a rocky outcropping, subsisting on a few meager rations and intense meditation. Now, under the cover of moonless night, he scurried through the underbrush as lithe as a cat and as silent as the breeze.

Such stealth was second nature to him. It afforded him time for thoughts which would have otherwise disturbed his meditation. He allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Amanda for the first time in over a moon. He had learned from the merchant clans that Lord Ambassador Norlan had held a High Feast only three days before. As the merchants often had to deliver goods for such an event, it tended to become public knowledge even across the ocean if one asked the right people and paid the right amount of platinum.

Jollis was not versed in all Urisi customs and was loathe to learn. Their slave system disgusted him far more than the Oceanus system ever had. Yet he could guess a High Feast would be an excuse to showcase one's slaves. If he had allowed himself an emotional response, his heart would have wrenched at the thought of what Amanda had to endure.

He had not rejected the teachings of the Priestess he had visited during his earlier tribulations. He accepted his love of Amanda, but there was a proper time for expressing such feelings, and now was not one of them.

As the last of the evening descended into inky night, Jollis already felt the weight of failure upon his shoulders. The breeze rose from the west, and it should bring with it the smell of woodsmoke, of roasted meats and soup, and of human exhaustion. Unlike the last camp he had visited, this location had been provided by a more recent recruit from among the Rogue Mages.

As Jollis approached, failure became more a certainty. The night remained impenetrable and featureless. No spark of low fires, no glow of dying embers. The quiet was absolute. No rhythmic breathing of sleeping men and women, no gentle moans of couples sharing a moment of intimacy.

Jollis hid behind the stump of a fallen tree just outside the supposed camp and considered his options.

He withdrew a blue pearl and held it before him, cupped in his hand to hide its faint glow. The Mages may have set up illusion spells around the camp. Jollis' senses were not immune to such trickery, but he held the antidote in his fingers. Yet using it would give his presence away.

The alternative was to plunge past the illusion wards and into the midst of a group of seasoned, powerful magic users on a hair-trigger after so many years pursued by the forces of a mad Emperor at the request of an equally mad Guildmaster.

Jollis rose above the stump and hurtled the pearl into the black. His keen hearing perceived both the whistle through the air and the faint "piff" as it struck the ground. A slow sigh escaped through his nose. From the cadence of the sound, it had landed inside a pile of ashes.

He stood. The camp remained silent and empty.

Jollis crept into the midst of the camp and retrieved his pearl. His hand hovered over it as he intoned the short incantation as the Inonni Mages had instructed him. The pearl exploded with light, illuminating the small clearing in pale brilliance as the pearl gave up its stored magical energies. It would last only until all the remaining magic in the pearl was discharged, but it would be long enough.

As before, he could confirm the clearing was indeed a camp. However, the remains of the campfires were far more fresh. This camp had been occupied as little as a half-moon ago.

Jollis examined the periphery. A well-trodden path ran northeast. A less traveled path ran north. This was at least some good news. Combined with the information he had gleaned of the exodus from the older camp, he could narrow down the location of the remaining Rogue Mages. Instead of looking all over Oceanus, their search could be narrowed to two provinces.

The light from the pearl began to fade. He was about to close his fingers around it when he caught sight of a snapped branch near a tree flanking the northeast path. He would have missed it were it not for the glistening drop of sap oozing from the break near the trunk of the tree. Yet when he stepped closer to examine it, his makeshift torch died.

He paused to let his eyes readjust, then touched his finger to the sap and rubbed it between two fingertips. A fresh break. This had happened no more than two days ago. Someone had returned to the camp.

He returned the spent pearl to his pocket and withdrew his Farviewing pearl. He waved his hand over it, then in the same breath clamped his hand shut to abort the summons.

There, again, a feeling of being watched just as he began the summons, and yet no one was in attendance. So quiet and still was the night that no one could sneak up on him. Even a Mage using a stealth spell would give off some telltale sign Jollis could sense to alert him to the presence of an observer.

Jollis frowned, opened his hand, and completed the summons.

"Master?" said the concerned image of Yonlas. "Is your Farviewing pearl working properly? This is the second time in which--"

"We will not speak now," Jollis snapped. "Open the Portal and retrieve me at once."

"As you wish, Master."

For some of the expatriates huddled around the squat stone pillar next to the crackling fire, the images from the orb was the first opportunity to witness an Inonni Portal open and close. Several soft sighs of amazement rippled through them, and several hushed conversations started at once.

"How did they ever solve the problem of the lingering energies from the tunnel's collapse when ..."

"I can't even begin to fathom how they kept the Portal energies coherent from a distance without a focus ..."

"Great gods, if we could figure out how to do this before those stuffed robes in the Guild, we could ..."

Jothan tossed a blue pearl into the air. At the top of its arc, it emitted a flash of light and cracked the air with a sound like that of a whip. Silence had fallen by the time the pearl returned to his hand. "Stop missing the point!"

Marlon waved his hand over the orb, and the lingering image of a dark, empty camp faded from its depths. "And just what is the point, Jothan? That you decided to spy on fellow expatriates?"

"Now you're the one missing the point."

"I am not even sure what I've seen."

"That was an Inonni, probably that Jollis fellow. You think he was there because he just happened to be wandering by?"

Marlon lifted the orb from the pedestal. "Likely not."

"I'll tell you why he was there. He's there because some bastard whom we trusted told him about the camp."

"Planting your spying pearls without other Mages' knowledge is not conducive to any sort of trust!"

"They forfeited that trust when then started treating with our enemy. That makes them the enemy as well. So I am doing nothing more than spying on an enemy."

Several expatriates nodded their heads as they watched the tableau unfold.

"Marlon, I witnessed something similar a few days ago. This very same person was at the big camp outside Veriston."

"We abandoned that soon after we learned of the Inonni takeover," said Marlon.

"Yes, we did, but I had enough sense to leave behind a spy pearl."

Marlon gave him a dark look. "You were doing things like that as far back as--?"

Jothan waved his hands. "Again, please, stop missing the point! Fine, I'm a filthy, lying bastard for doing it. Happy?"

Several made it clear with their facial expressions that they were not and looked to Jothan with anticipation.

"The point is, he is obviously trying to track us down," said Jothan.

"And as I told you before, none of our brethren who are not right here at this moment know of Virgia Point."

"Yes, and now I'm glad you were smart enough to dispense the location of this place only to the most trusted."

Marlon frowned. "I never did like the idea of being so secretive with our own people, but I was nowhere near any sort of leader as I supposedly am now, so I can't take any credit for what was no more than blind luck." He gazed at the others. "And we had no idea all this would happen."

"No, we didn't. But you have far too idealistic a view of us," said Jothan. "When we left the Mage Guild, you saw us as crusaders for a common cause. And, yeah, maybe that was true to some extent. But really, the only thing we had in common was an anger as hot as blazing hellfire at Q'ixanna." He glanced at the three dozen or so fellow Mages gathered in a loose circle around the campfire. "Even now I doubt everyone has the same goal, except kicking the Inonni back to where they came from."

A nodding of heads again.

"But back then?" Jothan shook his head. "Forget it. Beyond surviving a genocidal campaign by two insane men, we had no cause. I suspect a good number left the Guild because they thought it some sort of grand lark, a way to get out from under the daily grind of classes and testing. We saw what happened to them when they tried to go back."

Marlon nodded. When some looked on in confusion or inquiry, Marlon said in a somber voice, "They were Quelled. None of them survived it."

Several shocked gasps rose above the quiet. Quelling was a rarely-imposed sentence for Mage crimes. It effectively "burned out" the Mage's ability to use magic for the rest of his life via a massive feedback of the Mage's own energies, and only a fully trained Mage could survive it. The three young apprentices who had been Quelled were nowhere near that level of expertise.

"And before you bring it up, Marlon, that time I worked for the Overlord to stabilize his Portal for the Noble Lord's armies had nothing to do with loyalty -- or lack thereof -- to any cause. I needed platinum for food and magery supplies, it was as simple as that."

"Fine, you've made your point," said Marlon in a curt voice. "So are you still proposing to enter their midst at the former D'ronstaq Manor?"

"I most certainly am. It's more imperative now than ever if we're to learn what they're up to."

Marlon was silent.

"You still don't trust me," said Jothan. Several expatriates looked at Marlon as if daring him to confirm it.

Marlon shook his head. "No, that's not it. I question your methods, Jothan, but not your loyalty. Not anymore."

A faint smile ghosted Jothan's lips, more for the tacit admission that Marlon had harbored such thoughts in the first place rather than the subsequent exoneration.

"But I still think your idea is too dangerous. What if they somehow use you to learn of Virgia Point? And no, I don't mean by bribing you. They may have other techniques for extracting information. For all we know, they've developed mind reading. I'd sooner believe that than believe so many of our fellow Mages would betray us so readily!"

Reactions from the gathered expatriates varied. Some expressed shock, others incredulity. More than one whispered debate broke out.

"Come now, that's a huge leap!" Jothan said.

"Yes, it's far-fetched, but so were some of the things they do with their Portals! If they can pinpoint the opening of a Portal near a person based on the memories of that person from the minds of others, true mind-reading may be the next step."

One of the expatriates spoke up. "But what of their ability to target Portals on individuals, Jothan? Couldn't they use you to target Marlon? Then where will we be if he's captured?"

Marlon frowned. "Oh, all of a sudden I'm the big important leader? I told you all from the start, I'm here only to coordinate and not make decisions for everyone." Marlon sighed when several gave him pleading or forlorn looks. "Fine. Point taken."

"No one who's gone over to the Inonni had any real contact with Marlon," Jothan said. "They were never in it for anything but themselves. The Guildmaster's notes say it takes strong memories from several people to allow this sort of thing."

"But it's still a huge risk," the expatriate shot back.

"Blast the risk to me!" shouted Marlon. "The real risk is to you, Jothan. No matter what our differences are, I still consider you brethren and a powerful and innovative Mage. We can't afford to lose you. There's simply no way you can convince them of your loyalty fast enough to do any good."

"Yes, there is, but you're not going to like it."

"I already don't like it! What's one more thing?"

"I can convince them by telling them about Virgia Point."

Several expatriates shot to their feet.

"Jothan, have you taken leave of your senses?!" cried one.

"I know your brand of humor is crude, but if this is a joke, this is in the extreme of bad taste!" shouted another.

"I was ready to support you, Jothan, but after this?" declared a third.

"You're only forwarding your own agenda at the expense of all of us!" accused a fourth.

Jothan raised his arms. "Wait! Wait! Hear me out!"

"Quiet!" Marlon flicked his wrist, and his next words were boomed out at several times normal human volume. "QUIET! LET HIM SPEAK!" When the others had settled, he flicked his wrist again and spoke at a normal volume once more, but no less irritated. "You will have time enough to argue, but at least learn what in hellfire you're arguing about!" He turned to Jothan and lowered his voice. "And Jothan, this had better be damned good."

Jothan turned back to the crowd. "Okay, yeah, I am furthering my agenda as someone just pointed out. No, shut up, Genna, and let me talk. It's no secret I think we've been here far too long. It takes more effort to keep this place secret than it would to move. This is a perfect opportunity to cover our tracks. We can make them waste time by leading them here while we're busy setting up at a new location."

"And when they find out you've duped them?" Marlon said. "How long would that take? Not very, considering how fast this Jollis moves with Inonni Portal technology behind him!"

"They're not going to trust me right away. They will indeed be suspicious that I'm so willing to give away the location of our most critical encampment. And even if they trust my information, this Jollis fellow is not about to come charging into a camp full of Mages. I need to maintain the ruse only long enough to get some readings on the old Overlord Portal and gather some intelligence as to what they're up to."

"And what's to say he won't bring a whole contingent of the Inonni army with him? Or Inonni Mages for that matter!"

"Marlon, look at what the Inonni have done. They're a very meticulous people. They don't strike until they're assured of victory. They spend minimal energy to achieve their aims. According to the Guildmaster, the Inonni are after a former Noble Lord. Why not just search for the man town by town, county by county? Because it uses too much energy, that's why."

Marlon frowned. "Everything you've said is just educated guesses at best. That's a very flimsy thing to risk all of our brethren on."

Jothan shook his head halfway through Marlon's statement. "No. It's not as big a risk as you think. You all will already be on your way to the new location."

"You're talking about an effort which could take over a moon when you give us no more than a few days. I doubt the Guildmaster could wait longer than that for--"

"And since when are we on the Guild Hall's schedule?" Jothan declared.

"You were certainly willing to take the Guildmaster at his word when it suited your plans!" Marlon fired back.

"Why does he need this information that fast? What deadline does he have?"

"I can only assume it has something to do with the current diplomatic crisis between Oceanus and the Urisi over this former Lord Tarras."

"All right, fine, whatever. Say we need to move fast. We can use an interim camp. We hide some focusing pearls there, then transport ourselves away from here before the Inonni are about to strike."

"And leave the Portal device behind for them to scan to learn where ..." Marlon trailed off, his eyes widening. Several expatriates understood as well and called out their objections. Marlon waved them silent and narrowed his eyes on Jothan. "You want to sacrifice our only working Portal device."

"Setting the matrix to self-destruct once the Portal closes after the last person is through can be done with a trivial adjustment to--"

"That's not what I meant!" Marlon thundered. "It took us the better part of two seasons to construct it."

"And that's another thing that takes more energy than we have to spare: maintaining the dampening wards on that infernal thing. And who are we trying to hide it from? From people who have taken Portal technology far beyond what we've conceived! Better to use it one last time when it won't matter if they detect it than to live in the false security that we can keep its existence and location a secret from them indefinitely."

Some of the expatriates muttered amongst themselves in the tense silence; some gave Marlon furtive but expectant looks.

Marlon turned towards Jothan. "I will not have this decision foisted upon me."

"It's not such a hard one when you stop to think about it."

"Now it's you who misses the point! I cannot and will not dictate--"

Jothan stepped towards Marlon, and with a wave of his hand, utter silence descended upon them. Marlon eyed the glow of the privacy shield and the disconcerted looks of the other expatriates.

"Are you mad?" Marlon demanded. "Do you see how restless they are? You risk their wrath by even hinting we're keeping secrets from them. This is not the Mage Guild!"

"Maybe not, but they still need a leader," Jothan said. "Start acting like one."

Marlon flinched as if struck in the face.

"We have a huge opportunity here! This is the first time in a long while this many of us have worked together. Look how many have been converging here the last half moon! Usually less than a third this number pass through here at any given moment."

"You're asking me to become the equivalent of a Guildmaster!" Marlon hissed. "That's what many of us wanted to get away from. No one wants rigid centralized control of the magic users."

"Good leadership is not control."

"Tell that to them!"

"Then just give them guidance! They'll need someone to coordinate the migration."

Marlon stared. "You're going to do this no matter what. No matter how many disagree with you."

"If I wait for consensus, then we'll never get anything done. Yes, I'm going to do this. I know it's the right thing to do. So you can either be a leader and help the others prepare to leave, or leave them to fend for themselves."

"Some leader! Being dictated to by you."

"You're being unreasonable, Marlon."

"I'm not the one throwing all caution to the wind." He turned away from Jothan and waved his hand. The murmuring of their fellow expatriates exploded in their ears as the privacy field fell. "And enough of this secrecy!" Marlon thundered, silencing the others at once. "They have every right to know what we're thinking. Your plan is insane. I can't in good conscience support it, but you'll do as you please anyway, as you've stated as such."

Several gasps rose from the expatriates, but otherwise they remained still, watching the now two tacit leaders of their group. Several shot glares at each other, or muttered final disparaging comments to finish the vociferous debate that had ensued while Marlon and Jothan were silent.

Marlon cast his gaze towards the others. "And now our brethren have already taken sides." He looked towards Jothan. "You talk of opportunity, of a union of expatriate Mages under a common banner that hasn't happened in a long while. Now you've just rent that banner asunder. And I'm not the man who can mend it."

Marlon stepped away. When only absolute silence was left in his wake save for the cracking embers of the fire, he turned around, his tired face shrouded in the encroaching shadows as the fire faded. He peered at the faces of his brethren, some sad, some confused, some angry, some pleading.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you," said Marlon in a low voice. He trudged away from the gathering until he was swallowed by the night.

Tarras leaned closer to the fading flames of the tiny campfire. The night was cool, but physical warmth was not what he sought. He lifted his eyes and narrowed his gaze, but the thick trunks of the trees remained only indistinct shadows, as if he sat within a tiny pocket of reality in the center of a large, dark void. Overhead, the thickness of the leafy canopy hid most of the stars.

Footsteps trod over the underbrush just beyond his meager circle of light. Tarras was surprised when the round, thick face of his protector appeared in the flickering fire light. He did not think someone as large as Frenon could tread so softly; stealth was not a requirement for the muscle behind a sheriff's authority.

"I have disposed of the scraps from our meal a safe distance from our camp, my Lord," said Frenon. Even his soft, personable voice seemed out of place. His tall form squatted on the other side of the fire and remained a head taller than his charge. "That should keep the smaller predators away."

"And the larger ones?" Tarras asked with a small grin.

Without altering his neutral expression, he reached into the dark beside him and pulled a crossbow into his lap. He patted the well-worn but polished wood with a beefy, calloused hand. "For the larger ones, we have this, my Lord. And I sleep light."

"And the Cohorts?"

Frenon did not move or speak, other than to pat his weapon once more.

"Ah."

Frenon put the crossbow aside. "I was told they cannot be allowed to know who you are. I won't take any chances when I have only a moment to react."

"I would hope it will not come to that."

"I am only doing my duty, my Lord." He glanced around him. "We should douse the fire and get some sleep. Best we remain undiscovered."

"In another half-candlemark, if you would."

Frenon did not appear to react, save to let a very faint sigh escape his nose.

Tarras chose to act oblivious to the silent objection. He felt he had little right to complain. The man Rennis had assigned was not what he had expected. Frenon could engage in an intelligent conversation, for one. That he was deferential to Tarras should not have been a surprise, but it had sparked a question in his mind.

"Frenon, tell me something, if you would."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Why do you use that term with me?"

Frenon furrowed his brow and responded with a single shake of his head.

"You address me with a title the Inonni have rendered obsolete. You are under no obligation to use it anymore."

"I use it as a show of respect, my Lord," said Frenon. "It is proper to respect one's betters."

"The Inonni would have us believe I am not your better."

Frenon did not answer, though his eyes betrayed intense thought.

"What is it you believe, Frenon?" Tarras asked. "And please, speak freely."

"I'm not sure I really have an answer for you, my Lord. Except to say I have trouble showing respect to people who don't show their faces or act like a proper Lord or Lady would."

Tarras considered. "You used to work for a sheriff, did you not?"

"Yes, my Lord. Yorun M'ronstaq."

Tarras' eyebrows rose. "Did you say M'ronstaq? Same clan as Roquan D'ronstaq?"

"The Overlord? Yes, sheriff M'ronstaq was his cousin, I believe."

"And how to you feel about what's happened to the Overlords, Frenon?"

Frenon tilted his head. "My Lord?"

"Do you think about it at all? About the slave system?"

Frenon glanced to the side, then lowered his eyes towards the now feeble flames of the campfire. He picked up the small branch which Tarras had used to stir the fire and poked its charred end into the embers. "I understand it's gone now, my Lord."

"And what do you think about that?"

Frenon's eyes rose, his hand frozen with the tip of the branch pressed into the one lingering flame, his face shrouded in shadow. His jaw tightened. "Perhaps it is best we do not speak about it, my Lord."

"You did not approve of it, then."

Frenon's face faded along with the last of the fire. He lifted the end of the branch, a tiny flame licking at its tip. He rubbed it in the dirt and extinguished it. Muscles corded on his arms as he tapped the end of the branch against the ground.

"Forgive me, Frenon," said Tarras in a soft voice. "I am perhaps not as worldly as some might think. I do not know the extent of your religious beliefs."

"The slave system existed," said Frenon, his voice tight. "It was something well above me, and generally out of sight. If I had felt anything towards it at all, my Lord, it was practiced indifference."

"But men like me, like the one you are protecting, used the system. We kept it going."

"That is your decision to make, my Lord. Or should be. Not mine." He tossed down the branch. "And not the Inonni."

Yet Tarras still heard the strain in his voice, the unspoken hostility, as if the former Noble Lord were close to treading past a line he should know not to cross. He had hoped Frenon would divulge some information about his faith, but now he feared he had destroyed any chance of that.

"Forgive me for intruding upon your personal matters," said Tarras.

He heard another faint sigh. "You discuss matters which are simply never spoken about at my station, my Lord."

"Yet that does not prevent you from holding an opinion."

"But it is an opinion that should not matter, not with as much separation as there was between people like me and the Noble Lords."

"Unlike now."

The leaves rustled overhead as a breeze blew into the empty silence.

"It is late, my Lord," said Frenon, turning away. "The remaining embers should provide enough light in which to prepare to retire for the night. I will see you when you awaken."

"Yes," Tarras said in a hollow voice, still staring at the fading embers of the fire. "Good night to you."

A bare flicker of neglected flame burned in the lamp perched at the corner of the simple wood table which served as Kyllos' desk. He appeared as a statue in the dim light, eyes closed in meditation, his spectacles lying near his folded hands. He betrayed no outward sign of the internal struggle to raise his consciousness above his station, beyond his earned title of Elder Apparent, and past his unearned and unwanted title of Acting Oceanus Emperor.

So difficult was his attempt at meditation that the mere presence of Yonlas standing outside his closed door was enough to distract him. He opened his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. He placed his hands flat on the table, palms down, until the feeling of frustration had passed.

"Enter and be welcome."

The door opened after a moment's hesitation. Yonlas stepped inside and hesitated a second time. "Master, have I come at a bad time?"

Kyllos resisted the urge to reply "there is never a good time anymore." As terribly barbaric as the statement was, it nevertheless appealed to him to say it. "Not at all," said Kyllos with a small, forced smile. He turned a knob at the base of the lamp, and the flames rose. "What news have you?"

"Jollis has returned. He brings no more information on the whereabouts of the remaining Rogue Mages."

Kyllos folded his hands. "This is unfortunate, but no longer unexpected. They are being warned somehow."

"But how, Master?"

Kyllos offered a more genuine smile, though one corner of his mouth twitched. "If I knew that, we would not be having this conversation."

"Of course. Forgive me, Master."

Kyllos waved a hand in dismissal, and realized he was not fond of that gesture either. "Has Jollis any more leads to follow?"

"Several more Rogue Mages in our employ are offering whatever scant information they have on their camps. Not all are so willing to divulge such information, however, is what I am told."

Kyllos raised his hands and steepled his fingers. "And do we still believe there is a large, central camp?"

"Yes, Master. Jollis believes so as well, though it is clear not all of them knew about it or its location."

Kyllos nodded once. "Is there anything else?"

Yonlas paused. "Yes, Master, but not from the official reports."

"You have a question or concern?"

Yonlas was silent for a long moment. "It is not my place to question such a thing. I withdraw my request."

"No, you will not. I insist on hearing it."

Yonlas clasped his hands before him, lacing his fingers together and squeezing until the knuckles turned white. "I am disturbed by the presence of the Holy Order in Oceanus, and I do not know why."

Kyllos leaned back in his seat. "How long have you worked with Jollis?"

"For the better part of a year, Master. I ran many errands for him during the initial phase of his task in Oceanus. I think well of him."

"And have you tried to emulate him?"

"Yes, Master. When he ascends to Mastership himself, I will request he mentor me as you have him."

"That is a great honor you bestow upon him," said Kyllos. "He will be most pleased. And it explains your feelings."

Yonlas looked up, his lips parting in surprise.

"Jollis has a keen insight few share, and you have picked up on it."

"But, Master ... you are .... are you stating there is a reason to be disturbed by the Holy Order?"

"And now we get to the true problem," said Kyllos. "Your words betray your real feelings. You did not say 'the presence of' this time."

Yonlas bowed his head. "Forgive me, Master, such thoughts are unconscionable."

Kyllos paused and glanced towards the hallway behind Yonlas. "Please close the door behind you," he said in a low voice.

Yonlas gave Kyllos a puzzled look but slowly obeyed.

"I have a task for you, one which is critically important. You will dedicate yourself to this task until it is done."

"Yes, Master, of course," said Yonlas in a contrite voice. "I will do your penance."

"It is not penance."

Yonlas did not move. His fingers tightened once more.

"This is your task: You will see to it Jollis visits the site of the old D'ronstaq Manor and attempts an audience with an Elder of the Holy Order."

"But, Master, did you not already tell him to--"

"Please do not question me. Carry out this task, but under no circumstances reveal this is a task for him or from where it came. You will find a way to convince him to carry out my wishes."

"Yes, Master, I will do as you say."

"And as for your feelings towards the Holy Order," said Kyllos. "I ask that you be patient and bury your trouble over this. Do not bury your feelings, just your guilt."

Yonlas looked up. "I am quite confused, Master."

"I know. I need you only to do as I say for now. Understanding may come later. Trust that the gods will guide your hand to their will."

"I ... I will try, Master."

"You may go."

Yonlas bowed and hurried out of the office.

In the subdued light of Uroddus' bedchamber, Katla struggled to keep her pace steady and measured. She trembled as her hips dipped and rose, his hardness pressed against her womanhood with each stroke. Her soft pants were interspersed with tiny moans as Uroddus played with her nipples, squeezing them in the exact manner that would elicit the greatest pleasure.

She almost begged him to ease off. He spiked her pleasure so hard she had to back off from the exquisite touch of his manhood against her sensitized and slick folds. Yet she did not want to deny him the initiative. She hated being the aggressor, but Uroddus had left her little choice. Katla had thrown herself at him until he responded, and she had thanked the gods when he did.

Katla gasped as Uroddus' fingers suddenly closed around her breasts, squeezing them hard. She held her breath, and her hips shuddered as her pleasure soared and her pussy strained. She fell against him, burying him inside her. An attempt to ask him to let go came out only as a low whimper. Instead, she drew herself to him, squeezing his hands between her bosom and his chest, her lips seeking his.

Uroddus' arms wrapped around Katla, his lips pressed hard to hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down and grasped her rear. He pushed her down, sending his cock even deeper into her, and rocked her body back and forth.

Katla broke off the kiss with a loud gasp as her pleasure spiked hard once more. "Oh gods ... U-Uroddus ... n-not yet. Please ..." she moaned, her thighs quaking with the need for sexual release.

His grip eased, and his hands slid from her. She drew herself up, and when he began to open his mouth, she clamped her hand over it. "No, don't talk. Just follow my lead."

Katla did not want to risk breaking the moment. His voice could never quite follow his passion. No matter how ardent his lovemaking, whenever he spoke during the act he sounded as if he were about to recite the optimal formula for their sex.

She slowly removed her hand. He looked to her, expectant, and a little worried. Katla enjoyed seeing that; she wanted him more concerned. She lifted her hips in a single, quick movement that let him slip out of her. She wrapped her arms around him, braced herself with one leg, and rolled them on to their sides. She gave him a pleading look.

Please understand. Please get it. Please don't make me explain it to you.

In the pause that followed, her heart hammered. Her eyes glistened, and her cheeks glowed in vague embarrassment. What was he thinking now? That he never knew her to be so needy? That this was not what he had thought he would get when he took Katla as a lover?

She blinked back a tear and motioned to return them to their previous position. She met resistance, then his hands gripped her arms like a vise, so sudden that she tried to pull away. In a sudden whirl of motion, she was on her back with her arms pinned to the bed, Uroddus hovering over her with a gaze so intense that she trembled.

Katla uttered a short cry as he plunged into her, his manhood sinking to its full length, his body grinding against hers. Katla panted hard, her fingers curling into the sheets. Uroddus drew his hips back, his cock sliding against her tight and aching folds, until only the swollen head remained at her entrance. She felt the beat of his heart as a rhythmic twitch of his manhood, as quickened as her breath.

He plunged into her again and again, until his body slapped against hers and the bed rocked under them. She wrapped her legs around him as if afraid he would change his mind and stop. At first the angle was too shallow, but each passing moment brought his thrusts harder against her nub, until she was squirming and moaning in rocketing pleasure.

His hands released her and pressed into the furs to either side of her. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers curling into him until the nails dug into the skin. He was trembling, every muscle tense, his breathing shallow as if he were rationing his air.

Uroddus faltered, and a single mighty shudder passed through him. He uttered a single, explosive grunt as he throbbed inside her. Katla slammed her hips to his, straining at the edge. She tossed her head back, and her hands dropped to her sides and clenched into fists. She let out a shrill cry as her pussy exploded into climax, her hips jerking hard.

Uroddus fell atop her, and she panted into his ear. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. Even as his erection flagged, the delightful pressure against her womanhood drew out her climax until she had to ease off herself before it overwhelmed her.

Katla became limp, her head lolling to one side as she panted for breath. Uroddus withdrew from her slowly, as if reluctant to do so. With a quavering groan, he thumped onto his back, his breathing heavy.

Katla reached for his hand and found it shaking. She forced herself to roll to her side despite wishing another few moments to recover. She draped her arm across his chest and clung to him.

"I almost didn't understand, Katla," Uroddus said in a shaky voice.

"Shh."

"I almost didn't get it."

"I said, shh. Hold me, Uroddus, please."

His arms slid around her, tentative, as if he had just burned up all the passion he had possessed. Finally, his arms tightened, until it seemed he was holding on to her for dear life. Katla kissed him, gentle but lingering, her hand trailing down his arm until she grasped his hand. His trembling eased.

"You're already too hard on yourself out there," Katla said. "Please don't do it here."

"You mean too much to me for me not to."

Katla's lips parted, and her eyes flooded. She let out a quavering sigh and lay her head against his chest. "Thank you," she breathed.

His embrace became more tender and less desperate, as his voice became less anxious. "I have paid so little attention to you. I just ... I've never been in this position before."

Katla resisted the urge to point out that had it not been for the crisis which ultimately made Uroddus Guildmaster, they may never have been drawn together. Or if he had not heeded Q'yros advice, he may never have found his passion.

"The most frustrating part is I am doing the best I can. I cannot get any better than this."

Katla uttered a small, forlorn sigh and spread the fingers of her hand over his chest. "I know."

"I have disappointed you."

Katla raised her head and cradled his cheek. "No, I didn't mean it that way. If I could step outside my own feelings, I would know the Guild needs you more than I do."

"It should not be that way."

"But that's the way it is. At least until this crisis is over."

Uroddus squeezed her. "I sometimes doubt it will ever be over. I sometimes wonder what it is we're really fighting against."

His arm suddenly loosened. His eyes took on a faraway look.

"What is it?" Katla demanded, knowing that look all too well.

"Something I had not realized until now. I was not seeing the forest for the trees. We have spent so much time defining what it is we are fighting against. We have yet to determine what we are fighting for."

Katla stared. "I don't understand. We're fighting to restore Oceanus' freedom."

"Freedom to do what, Katla?" said Uroddus. "To bring the Noble Lords back into power? To reinstate the Overlord Manors?"

Katla felt as if her head were spinning. First they were talking about their relationship, and now it had shifted to politics. "Well ... I never thought of it in exactly those terms, but, yes, I suppose that would be part of it."

"But is that even possible?"

Katla remained silent. She wanted to deny this intrigued her.

"It has been a full season now. All the old trappings of Noble and Overlord power have been swept away. It is unlikely they could be restored."

Katla frowned and drew herself up. "Uroddus, I hate it when you don't make any sense."

"You mean you hate it when you don't understand what I am trying to convey."

"I am not going to argue semantics with you! Just what--"

Uroddus bolted to a seated position. "Katla, think about it. I have been Guildmaster for a full season now. There are many among the Mage Elders who pine for the days before my reign. Many are quite adamant about it."

Katla rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

"The point is, why have they not attempted to restore Traditionalist ways to the Guild? Because too much time has passed. A point has been reached beyond which there is no turning back."

Katla sighed and sat cross-legged on the bed. "Fine. Let's say you're right. What then? What do you propose should replace what once was?"

"An excellent question, and not one I can answer. But there are others who must answer it if resistance against the Inonni is to have any meaning. This is at the root of what has been bothering me. This is the missing variable of a vast equation that heretofore has been unsolvable."

Katla's eyes widened. She had not seen him this fired up since Q'ixanna's trial. She was doubly surprised when he grasped her shoulders and kissed her.

"This is why I love you, Katla," said Uroddus in a low voice. "Because you stimulate my mind as well as my body."

And suddenly, he smiled.

And now Katla realized what it was she had missed.

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