When Larra had been returned to her quarters, it was with no small amount of satisfaction Bessa observed the slave's usual air of superiority was gone. However, Bessa doubted the bitchy little slave got what she really deserved for what she had pulled with Amanda.

Bessa waited until she was past the slave quarters before she uttered a tiny forlorn sigh. She had not realized how much she missed Amanda until the girl was absent a second night. She never thought she would give the slaves any more than a cursory glance despite their obvious beauty, as she hated talking to anyone who had little to call their own between their ears.

But thinking about Amanda was better than thinking about Marris, which would just upset her again. She knew she shouldn't get involved. Be like the rest of the staff and keep your head down, that's what the others would tell her. Despite all her bluster, she was just a washing maid and had no delusions of attaining any higher station in life.

Bessa entered Lord Norlan's parlor, which stood quiet and empty. Usually she enjoyed the silence which accompanied her work, but for some reason it unnerved her that night. Now she wished Marris were there if for no other reason than to argue with him. She needed a good argument to use up restless energy stored in hopes of something which could never be.

Like so many other times, she became fascinated with one particular piece upon the mantel, the blue pearl embedded in glass. The pearl looked like those she saw her betters use to Farview one another. She could not understand why it was buried inside glass.

She wished she were one of the chamber maids instead, where she would have the excuse to linger over it as she carefully dusted and polished it. But her only purpose was to gather the things which needed to be laundered and wash anything in the room which could be washed on the spot.

As she took one last glance at the orb, she had the odd notion it had something to do with Amanda, if for no other reason than it shared the same quality as Amanda: it looked rather out of place as well.

Bessa had gathered the coverings from the chairs and sofas when she heard a noise at the threshold. Bessa turned her head and jumped back with a gasp, the coverings tumbling from her arms.

"Is there a problem?" said Lord Norlan.

Bessa stared wide-eyed at the man for another few breaths, still in shock over seeing him in anything less than formal attire. He stood in little more than a robe, loosely sashed and slightly parted near an intimate region beneath his waist. Not that Bessa was much interested; it simply looked undignified.

"Ah, no, m'Lord, everything's roight as rain! Wot problem would there be? I jus' be Bessa, the simple washin' maid." Bessa started to edge around Norlan and towards the door. "Ah ... I'll jus' come back later when yew ... ah ..."

Norlan held up a hand until Bessa quieted. He let out a slow sigh and trudged past her, yanking his robe closed to Bessa's sigh of relief. "No need." He headed for a cabinet and withdrew a goblet and a gourd of wine. "You need not change your schedule based on my insomnia."

"Ah, of course, yer Lordship," said Bessa. She scrambled to collect the coverings as quickly as possible, but slowed and glanced at Norlan's back as wine splashed hard into his goblet. This was the first time she could remember Norlan being awake at this hour, let alone admit he was actually having a problem sleeping.

Norlan took a long drink of his wine, and his shoulders slumped. Bessa became still, her shimmering eyes still on his back. Norlan turned around, and Bessa went back to work before his eyes were upon her, though she had trouble finding the enthusiasm to leave which she had just moments ago.

"And you are sure there is no problem?" Norlan said.

Bessa blinked, and realized only then she was still staring at him. "Ah, no, m'lord," she said, forcing her attention back to her work.

"Because it would be most appropriate if I were handed yet another one from even the lowest echelons of the palace."

For a startling moment, Bessa felt a surge of righteous anger towards Norlan. Lowest esh'lons, aye? Bessa thought. Not like this place would stay clean fer more'n three candlemarks if we were gone! She would have loved to have said that out loud, which surprised her as well. "I 'ave nothin' that would concern the likes of yew, m'lord."

Norlan took another deep drink of his wine and stepped forward. "Perhaps I should be the judge of that. I insist you tell me. Whatever it is, it cannot make my life any worse."

Bessa wondered just what was upsetting him. She could remember him being tense when involved in some delicate negotiations, sometimes right in that very parlor, but he always relaxed once it was done.

Now she was stuck for what to say, and her mind went into a blind panic. She wished she could tell him about Marris and how foolish he was acting, but that would only earn him a dismissal. She would have to deal with him herself.

And why in 'ellfire am I gettin' so involved? she thought.

But she knew the answer to that, and it let her finally form a response. "I'm worried 'bout one o' yer slaves, m'lord."

Norlan raised an eyebrow. "Do I even need to guess who it is?"

Bessa had no idea how to interpret his sarcasm and simply came out with it. "The pretty dark-haired one yew got from Oceanus. Ah ... I think 'er name's Amanda."

Norlan sighed. "Yes, of course. What of her?"

Bessa considered her answer carefully. "Ah ... I saw a little of wot 'appened 'tween 'er and Larra."

Norlan had raised the goblet to his lips. He froze for a moment, then slowly lowered it. "What?"

Bessa's heart pounded. Stupid girl! 'e's pr'bly already got a punishment lined up fer poor Amanda, and now yew got to make it worse!

"What did you see?" Norlan's voice boomed in the confines of the chamber.

"Ah ... I saw ... I saw Larra fall t' the floor."

"And?" Norlan prompted when Bessa hesitated.

"An' ... an' Amanda lookin' all confuddled. Jus' like someone that's saw somethin' weird."

"And did you see Amanda strike Larra?"

Bessa shook her head, her ponytail whipping back and forth. "No, m'lord, I didn't." Another pause. "I ... I don't think Amanda touched 'er at all."

Norlan regarded Bessa, who looked back at him with glistening, anxious eyes. He turned away. "Thank you," he said in a cool, flat voice. "Now do what you came here to do and get out."

Bessa did not even bother to verbally acknowledge his order. Her heart racing and her legs shaking, she pulled all the coverings into a misshapen lump and careened out the door.

Gedric stared at his slave, his lips parted, his face a mask of confusion. He slowly closed his mouth, and the muscles along his neck twitched. His eyes narrowed, as if he meant to be angry with her, yet worry shimmered there as well. His mind rolled through a large gamut of emotions, his face merely the release valve, betraying only isolated moments in time.

Amanda did not back down from his gaze, nor did she soften the earnest look on her own face. Her eyes remained intense and unwavering, and Gedric gazed into them as if trying to ascertain how serious she could possibly be.

Gedric finally let out a long, slow sigh. "If those words had come from a Urisi slave, I would have ..." He trailed off and shook his head. "No, even from an Oceanus slave, I cannot--"

"You do not believe me, Master?" Amanda asked.

Gedric frowned. "Realize what you have just said!" he roared, his eyes ablaze. Yet Amanda still did not back down, as if knowing -- or at least guessing very well -- that his ire was not directed at her. "Even from one of my own trusted men I would ask if he were hitting the wine too hard!"

"I am sorry, Master, but I knew of no other way to say it. If I had used any other words, we would be dancing around them all evening."

"And do you seriously believe your own words? Can you claim some sort of insight my own Lord Admiral does not have?"

"Yes, Master, I do."

Gedric flinched as if a fist had flown at his face, his eyes wide.

"I was there when the Inonni invaded the D'ronstaq Manor, Master. I saw what they could do. And now I think I know how they did it."

"How they--? How do you know about--? What in blazes are you talking about?!"

"I know how they accomplished their invasion so quickly and completely."

Gedric opened his mouth as if to protest again, but closed it and ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you realize how unreal this is, to be told this by a slave, even an Oceanus-bred one?"

Amanda clamped her jaw for a moment to suppress a frustrated sigh. "Master, I am a former Oceanus slave who is considered undisciplined and almost untrainable by the Urisi. Just a few words from you would earn me more punishment than I've had since I arrived. Would I invent such a story if that is what awaited me?"

"And yet I may still not believe you and report your behavior anyway!"

Amanda nodded. "Yes, Master, I know," she said in a low voice. "But at least I tried."

Gedric's eyes widened. "By the gods ... I almost want to believe you, if for no other reason than to spare you that punishment, especially after the pleasure you have given me."

"Master, I don't care if I get punished anymore."

Gedric let out a tired sigh. "And that I almost believe as well," he said in a somber voice. "That is the great tragedy of this moment."

"Please, Master, let me tell you what I know."

"And if this is even a more fantastic story than what I have already heard?"

Amanda paused. She could sense an undertone of fear in his voice. She had to hope it was not simply wishful thinking, that he was worried enough to give credence to her story.

"Regardless, you will tell me," Gedric declared. "Now."

"The Inonni have developed a Portal technology which doesn't require the use of a focus at the location where it's to be opened."

Amanda hesitated, but the expected protests did not come. Instead, Gedric simply stared, and now there was no mistaking his fear.

She plowed on. "But the Portals still need to be directed. They use the memories from people who are familiar with the area they want to visit. I think they can also use the memories of a person and open a Portal very close to that person. Then they only have to--"

Gedric suddenly bolted out of the bed and to his feet. "Great gods!" he gasped, burying his face in his hands.

Amanda sat on the edge of the bed. "Master, what is it? What's wrong?"

Gedric turned towards her and raised his head, and Amanda nearly flinched at the haunted look in his eyes. "I had only half-believed the stories of what happened in the waters outside the D'ronstaq mansion."

Amanda's eyes widened. She knew of a great sea battle, but she had seen only the aftermath of barely scathed Inonni ships circling wrecked Oceanus vessels. "What happened, Master? I did not see it myself."

"A fantastic story of ships appearing from nowhere through great circles of blue light. I had heard it third hand through Admiral Vortas, and he second hand through the few who had escaped the onslaught."

Amanda leapt off the bed. "Those must have been Portals, Master! Master Roquan told me several merchants had gone missing several moons before the invasion. They could have helped the Inonni open those Portals directly onto the water in front of the Oceanus fleet."

"That is preposterous!" Gedric shouted, his eyes blazing. "A fairy tale! It has to be!"

"But if it's true, wouldn't it explain how quickly the invasion went?"

Gedric remained silent.

Amanda stepped forward. "Master, please, I know it sounds incredible, but--"

"But if your words have the slightest bit of truth," said Gedric in a grave voice. "Then there is indeed a greater danger to myself, and my former mentor."

Amanda nodded. "Yes, if they can really open a Portal to a specific person, then they could capture you and use your memories to locate Lord Tarras."

"Which implies he escaped the initial occupation, and they feel he is important somehow." Gedric's lips twisted into a smirk. "And he likely either does not realize or refuses to accept his own importance. That would be very much like him."

And then Gedric suddenly laughed.

When Amanda looked askance at him, he quieted but continued to wear an amused if wry look. "I laugh because only recently I have lamented my uselessness as Captain of a fleet which goes nowhere and has no future. Now you have given me a new mission. You have returned the excitement to my life. Perhaps that is why I am all too eager to accept your words as truth despite the danger."

Amanda had no idea how to respond, so she gave him a tiny smile and hoped it would be interpreted as support.

Gedric chuckled. "As stunning as your insight can be into my feelings, slave Amanda, I do not expect you to understand. Suffice it to say you have convinced me your claims have some merit."

Amanda let out a gushing sigh. "That's all I wanted to do, Master."

"I suppose it would be too much to ask you have a solution to this problem as well?"

Amanda hesitated. All along she had assumed Mandas' implied promises of freedom meant she would leave with the Oceanus fleet. Now she wondered exactly what Mandas had in mind. Did he somehow glean the danger Gedric faced and sought escape for him as well? For all she knew, the Urisi have already learned of Inonni Portal technology through other means, perhaps through their own Mages.

Or was he also blind to the real danger and wanted only to further his own interests?

And yet Mandas was her only resource. She could not go to Norlan, for he surely would apply her information to his own agenda, or do what he claimed was right for the Urisi Nation and let the Inonni take Gedric. Or he would ignore it on the premise that she was a Urisi slave, and Urisi slaves had nothing useful to say beyond "Yes, Master."

"I'm not sure yet, Master," Amanda said.

Gedric's eyebrows rose. "That was certainly more than I had expected."

"I cannot explain any further, as much as it pains me to disobey you."

Gedric slowly nodded. "And I believe you once more. If there is one thing Oceanus slaves have, it is loyalty. You have shown nothing but loyalty to me tonight."

Amanda's smile was uneasy. She, too, was working towards her own aims. She wanted to escape, and Gedric was her means to do so.

Gedric gathered his clothes. "Come, slave Amanda, and we will tell the Lord Admiral. He must hear this immediately."

Marris' accommodations were no less spartan than those of the slaves, the slaves' fetters the only real difference. Even then, he envied them. When they returned to the carriage, they had no trouble falling into a deep slumber. Unlike Marris, who tossed and turned on his cot for several candlemarks before he finally heaved a great sigh and sat up.

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, slightly damp from perspiration despite the chill. His thoughts had remained in a tumult since Mandas departed; not even the shot of strong brandy before retiring had managed to chase it away. The liquor had made him drowsy but brought sleep no closer.

He was grateful the slaves tended not to return until late into the night. Many arrived groaning and whimpering in lingering discomfort from affections a little too ardent. Each distressed noise felt like an accusation.

The only bright spot had been Amanda, who had returned from her tryst the night before in good spirits and no sign of distress. He hoped all was just as well with her that night. No words could describe the guilt he had felt at arranging her in such a tight and dangerous pose for Mandas' pleasure earlier.

Marris stood and wandered to the window. He pulled back the flap of canvas buttoned across it and peered into the featureless black night.

Get Bessa out of the way; that was his directive. If it had been any of the other washing maids, he would have dismissed the idea. They were at the lowest end of the internal class hierarchy at Norlan's palace. They rarely socialized with one another and thus could never be counted on to band together for any cause.

Bessa was different. She managed to get others to listen to her, and the other maids respected her even if they didn't like her. Yet the only trouble Bessa could stir up would get him terminated, and she claimed she didn't want to see that happen.

Marris let the flap drop over the window and covered his face with his hands. Two rules he had been taught early in his career: never get chummy with the rest of the staff, and never feel sentiment or sympathy towards the slaves. He felt he had violated both. Curiously, loyalty to one's employer had never been mentioned as a rule.

Marris lowered his hands and shook his head. Why was he letting this get to him? Staff did this all the time. Nary a single servant had no price high enough to allow him to spy on his own employer without a single twinge of conscience. This should be no different.

He fell upon his cot and stared up at the ceiling. He sometimes wished the Oceanus fleet would set sail and make a run for it with Amanda on board. Then at least she had a chance to escape her fate.

Marris closed his eyes and saw himself on board one of the ships, watching the shore recede into the distance. He had heard his sexual preferences would have been tolerated in Oceanus. Among the Nobility, it would have been little more than a triviality.

He encouraged his little break from reality to play out in his head, and eventually he fell into an exhausted if fitful slumber. His last thought before falling asleep had been of himself as an Oceanus slave, basking in the kindness of a grateful Overlord and a pleased Noble.

The Royal Mage Hemdalla panted with the exertion on his corpulent frame as he rushed through his quarters. He struggled to pull on his robe as his unknown visitor pounded on the door yet again. "Yes, yes, I am coming!" the Mage cried. "Not all Mages know spells of added speed you know!"

He reached the door and paused to straighten his robe and brush back his thinning hair before he grasped the handle and undid the bolt. "Now what is so important you awaken a man when ... oh, Lord Ambassador Mandas!"

Mandas cast a small smile at him. "My apologies for troubling you at this late hour."

Hemdalla furrowed his brow. "But what could you wish of me which could not wait until ... oh, great heavens, whatever happened to your hand, my Lord?!"

Mandas' right hand was wrapped in a bandage which clenched the four fingers like an undersized mitten. Irregular splotches of rusty red were well-soaked into the cloth, and the edges were slightly frayed. "An unfortunate accident, I am afraid. Which is why I have come to see you."

Hemdalla's eyes widened. "Me? I would wager you need to see the Healer!"

"I have already seen him, and he has treated me all he can tonight, as he is out of some key ingredients to mix the proper salve to heal my hand," said Mandas. "So I am stuck with it until tomorrow. Unfortunately, I am not to be excused from my duties, which includes the paperwork."

"But surely the High Minister of State--"

"--is not prone to kindness or understanding in these matters. Hence the reason I am here."

Hemdalla blinked. "But what could I possibly do?"

"Much of my work entails little more than affixing my signature to important documents." Mandas lifted his injured hand. "Something I can obviously no longer do at the moment. It is my understanding you have a writing duplicator."

Hemdalla's eyes turned wary. "That is not common knowledge, my Lord."

Mandas gave him a tight smile. "I am not exactly common, now am I? But I do know you have this device, and I would like to borrow it. I have several documents I had signed earlier before my injury, and I need only to copy it onto the other documents."

Hemdalla bit his lower lip. "I usually have to get permission, either from the High Minister of State or His Majesty himself."

"Surely you can make an exception? I need it for but a short span of time and will return it well before morning. And realize the paperwork I do is for the very same men you mentioned. I am sure they would approve."

Hemdalla sighed and glanced at the injured hand, wincing as if in sympathy. "Well, all right, but only if you promise not to let word of this get out."

"Oh, most assuredly, I intend to tell no one about this meeting," said Mandas smoothly.

"All right, then, wait here."

Hemdalla disappeared inside for a few moments. He returned with a small object which looked much like an ordinary ink blotter.

Mandas took the object in his uninjured hand, then transferred it to the other and motioned as if using it on an imaginary surface before him.

"Tap it once on the handle, then blot the writing you want to copy," the Mage explained. "Then tap the handle twice and blot it against the parchment where you want the copied signature to go."

Mandas beamed. "Ah, thank you, Mage Hemdalla. You are quite the gentleman to someone in need."

"Now, please, take care! Return it before morning, and don't use it too much on the same source writing. The original script will fade the more you duplicate it."

"Thank you for that advice." Mandas grinned and bowed his head. "Good night to you, Mage."

Lord Admiral Vortas stood absolutely still in the wake of Amanda's explanation, as Gedric had let her words describe what his own mind was still struggling to comprehend. Finally, he bolted out of his seat, the gesture so sudden Amanda drew back a step, and even Gedric flinched.

Vortas turned away and uttered a windy sigh as he wiped his face with his hand. "All this time, I had held out some faint hope that what I had heard had indeed been some deranged vision or a trick of the eye from rising heat on the water," he murmured.

"I would not have believed Amanda's words had any grain of truth if it were not for that very story you had told me, my Lord," said Gedric.

Vortas whirled around, his eyes blazing. "I am well aware of that!" he thundered. His gaze fell upon Amanda and softened. "My apologies," he said in a lower but still edgy voice. "My supposed wrath does not fall upon you."

Amanda nodded. "Yes, I understand, Master."

One corner of Vortas' mouth twitched upwards. "Yes, you do, don't you?"

Amanda tilted her head. "I'm sorry, Master?"

"You were trained to understand people's reaction. You can read their emotions like a book."

"Yes, Master, that's mostly true." She paused before adding, "I may be more accomplished at it than most."

"You are undraughted, are you not?"

"What?" Gedric said, his eyes widening.

"Yes, Master," Amanda said firmly. "I've never had the Draught."

Vortas fully smiled. "That makes you all the more beautiful."

Amanda returned the smile and enjoyed the praise.

"Undraughted?" Gedric cried, aghast. "Is that ... was that even allowed?"

"Probably not," said Vortas. "But then again, Roquan was not known for being conventional."

"Yes, I know, but even so--!"

"Have you any complaints about her so far? Has she pleased you properly?"

"Well, yes, she has."

"Then it should no longer matter to you. To be perfectly blunt, Fleet Captain, I always had a problem with ripping away one's memories in such a manner. Perhaps Amanda is better for remembering her past life. Perhaps they would have all been better off that way."

Amanda averted her gaze and sought to quell the renewed guilt which threatened to cloud her eyes when she recalled Sirinna and how she almost had been forced to remember the awful abuse which she had suffered back in her homeworld.

She felt a twinge in her gut. Even then, Sirinna had experienced nightmares as she began to remember on her own, after the startling revelation that the Draught did not erase memories but merely blocked them. She doubted Sirinna's new owners would care about such things. For all she knew, they would consider Sirinna a bad slave and sell her to someone else.

Amanda blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening, and yanked herself back to the present. She caught Gedric's eye and was grateful when simple affection had returned to his gaze. "Certainly she is extremely intelligent and well-spoken, even for an Oceanus slave," Gedric said in a softer voice. He turned his eyes back to the Lord Admiral. "It prompted me to consider she was telling the truth."

"We must assume it is the truth, for it is the first reliable information we have had since we arrived!" boomed Vortas.

"But what do we do with it, my Lord?"

"I am not sure quite yet, but above all else, we must not let you be sent back to Oceanus."

"All well and good, my Lord, and I appreciate your stand if only for selfish reasons, but--"

"This is not just about protecting you, as much as I wish to do so. I am looking at a bigger picture. I have sometimes wondered exactly what is the end goal. I fear I have acted without thinking through the long-term implications."

"You made a stand," Gedric said. "Someone had to."

"That is fine and dandy as a symbol, Fleet Captain, but symbols do not restore a nation's proper ruling order."

"But is that even possible now?"

"If there is anyone from the old guard still active in Oceanus, then there is some hope, yes!"

"With all due respect, Lord Admiral, we cannot know the size of this ... this resistance ... based on what we have heard. We only know there is one man, my former mentor."

"And yet they want you in order to get to him! If it is indeed only one man, why are they so worried? Why rattle their saber at the Urisi? He can be no less than their leader, or a means to get at other leaders via this new Portal technology."

Gedric sighed and slowly nodded. "Yes, Lord Tarras is a natural leader even when he does not realize he is leading. One of his last letters to me spoke of giving advice to Duric Z'garon before he was Emperor."

Vortas uttered a short laugh. "The man behind the man, eh? Yes, that would be the sort of person who could lead a resistance group."

"Then what do we do, my Lord?" said Gedric. "As much as I wish to preserve my own life and freedom, and as little faith as I have in the competence of the Urisi Navy, I doubt we could fight our way out of here with any chance of survival."

Vortas started to sigh and nod his head halfway through Gedric's statement. "Yes, yes, I know. Especially with as close as the Oceanus representatives are to arriving. We would be easily tracked even if we escaped the navy."

Amanda had to restrain herself from joining the verbal volley. It felt too much like the discussions Roquan had with his fellow Overlords. Roquan often gave her blanket permission to speak in those later times and listened when no one else would. Worse, Gedric reminded her a little of Roquan, and Vortas was similar in many ways to Doran.

She realized how much she had relied on Roquan to have the answers and to protect her. Now she felt like the roles were reversed; it was somehow up to her to protect them.

Vortas gave Gedric a level look. "We may have to consider another option for you: escape."

"But, my Lord, did we not just say ..." He trailed off. "You don't mean the fleet, do you? You mean me."

"Yes, indeed, Fleet Captain."

Amanda's heart leapt.

"I cannot abandon the men!" Gedric cried. "That would be against everything I know."

"Blast all that!" Vortas roared. "None of the old rules apply anymore! I admire your loyalty to your men and to me, but there is a greater loyalty to consider. If there is any chance the Inonni can be defeated, we must take it no matter what other sacrifices must be made."

Gedric heaved a heavy sigh. "That is assuming I have a means for escape. I cannot do it without some help from the Urisi."

Their gazes turned to Amanda.

Amanda paused to find the right words. She had to decide how much she could reveal, as she believed she was going well beyond what Mandas had ever intended for her to do. "Master, all I can say is some form of escape was hinted at. It was mostly in the context of my freedom, though."

Amanda realized the implications of her statement when half the words were already spoken, and by then she could not take them back. Immediately, Gedric stepped forward and demanded, "Amanda, tell me now: was the selection of you as my slave part of some grander scheme?"

"Yes, Master," she said in a low voice. "Lord Ambassador Mandas wanted me to learn more about you. He wanted to know if you had any ties to Oceanus Nobility."

"Gods damn him," Vortas grumbled. "And here I thought he was the more reasonable of the two!"

"I have stated this before, Lord Admiral," Gedric said. "You cannot trust the Urisi. They have their own motivations and their own agenda."

"But anything we do to protect you has to be done through them! We have no choice at this point!"

"I am sorry for the deception, Master," Amanda said to Gedric. "I didn't like it, but I had no choice."

To her relief, Gedric nodded. "We are all being used as damned pawns, slave Amanda. And I felt no duplicity in your desire to please me." He turned to Vortas. "So now my life is in the hands of this Mandas person. I am not filled with confidence, my Lord."

"Nor am I," said Vortas. "But it is the only tool we have right now, and we will use it." He turned to Amanda. "Do you think you can discover what Mandas really wants?"

"I don't know, Master," said Amanda, trying not to let despair creep into her voice.

"Can we work through Norlan instead?" Gedric asked. "Was he not looking for something as well?"

"Yes, but likely something he could leverage himself," said Vortas. "I don't trust him any more than I do Mandas."

Which led Amanda to ask the question in her own mind: which one would she trust more, Mandas or Norlan?

Gedric's hands alighted on her shoulders. She turned to face him and gazed into his eyes.

"Slave Amanda, you must not reveal to Mandas any of this conversation," Gedric said.

"Yes, Master, of course."

"I am taking a huge risk. As much as I appreciate your intelligence and your candidness, I still see you tethered to a Urisi slaveowner and subject to his will. If the situation were different, I would not extend this much trust in someone I have known for only two nights."

Amanda nodded. "I understand, Master. I do have to tell him something, as he is expecting me to find out more about you."

"You may tell him about my ties to Lord Tarras."

"Tell him they are very close ties, that Gedric has influence," said Vortas.

Gedric sighed. "My Lord, that is not the case."

"It doesn't matter! If this infernal Mandas is our only means to protect you, he must be made to believe protecting you is worth his time."

"That's the sense I got from him, Master," said Amanda. "He wants someone with connections to the Oceanus Nobility."

"Then give it to him. Give him exactly what he's looking for and then maybe we can deal with him directly."

"What of the revelations about the Inonni Portals?" Gedric asked.

"That depends on whether the Urisi know about it as well."

"I don't think they do, Master," said Amanda. "I can't be completely sure, but I think they would be talking about it a lot more if they did."

"Then we keep it our secret for now in case we need it later," said Vortas. "We were looking for a means to convince the Urisi of the Inonni threat. This would work quite well in our favor in that regard."

Mandas scurried back to his quarters and slammed the door shut. His lips curled into a sly smile as he unwrapped his "injured" hand. Beneath lay pristine and pink skin, if tingly from the tightness of the bandage. He flexed his fingers until the sensation eased.

He tossed the bandage in the refuse container with a smirk. As he had hoped, the Mage had not noticed the age of the bloodstains. Mages always tended to be very narrow in their education. Some were functionally illiterate, save for the reading of magical runes.

He stepped into his private office and closed the door. He produced a key from his tunic and sat behind his desk, where he unlocked the top drawer and withdrew two parchments.

One was an older document, the page slightly yellowed, the corners ruffled, the edges notched by tears. What he wanted, however, was completely intact: the place which bore Norlan's overly-flourished signature.

Mandas placed the newer document next to it and read it over once more. It was an appropriation form for monies from the Royal Treasury for Ambassadorial expenses to the sum of seven thousand platinum.

Mandas smirked. No one would actually see any of that money. Such things were never handed out in real platinum but were deposited in a trust which could be drawn upon as needed. It would get far enough in the bureaucracy to be noticed, but would be caught by Erodon during his once every moon review of all expense reports, due only a few days hence. By that time, Mandas would have executed his other plans, and nothing Norlan could say in his defense would matter.

Mandas tapped the handle once and carefully pressed the copier to the first parchment, touching the left side to the left end of the signature, then rolling it across the rest. He picked it up just as the right edge touched the parchment.

He glanced at the old signature, tilting his head. The original had faded a bit, though he doubted enough to be noticed. One would assume it was just another sign the parchment was old.

Mandas shifted the device to the expense form, tapped the handle two times, and "blotted" a space near the lower right corner. When he pulled it away, there sat a perfect rendition of Norlan's signature, duplicating every nuance in precise detail.

Mandas grinned. He returned the original parchment to the drawer and locked it. Now all he had to do was get the expense report filed and everything would be set. Then he needed only to play up Amanda's desperation and vain hopes of escape to complete the final part of his plan.

Mandas let out a contented sigh and rushed to file the expense report so he could get to bed. He was sure he would sleep like an angel that night.

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