Marris wiped his face with his hand and uttered a long sigh, then shook his head as if trying to dislodge the lingering grogginess. He had managed a bit more sleep in anticipation that his role in this sordid deal with Mandas would soon be over.

He forced himself to straighten up as he stared into the mirror in the sanitary, running his hand over his freshly-shaven face. He rubbed the corners of his eyes to rid himself of the grainy vestiges of fitful slumber. At least he could manage to look at himself; his task had become more tolerable when he convinced himself he was doing it for Amanda.

He had been told little of Mandas' plans, other than he had one more task to perform later that morning for the Lord Ambassador. Mandas had promised it would be the last. Marris knew only that it involved Amanda somehow, as it had been suggested she be ready to leave Norlan's household on a moment's notice. Thus Marris kept track of any temporary slave exchanges between Norlan and his peers; so far Amanda had been spared.

Marris stepped into the corridor, then paused and glanced behind him. Earlier, he had ventured to the kitchens for just enough sustenance to ease his grumbling stomach before preparations began for Norlan's morning meal. As then, he had the sense of being shadowed.

He shook his head and sighed, rubbing his eyes again before proceeding down the corridor. He heard what he thought was an out-of-sync echo of his own footfalls. As he turned to head down the corridor which led to the back gate of the palace, a flurry of footsteps rushed off to the side behind him.

Marris whirled around, but caught only a glimpse of a shadow retreat down a side passage. He tugged his collar and tried to ignore his pounding heart as he started down the corridor again. As he approached the washing chambers, he was grateful for the early candlemark. The chambers were quiescent; no work for them until the morning meal was over.

Yet as he passed a narrow doorway, an arm flicked out, a hand grasped his upper arm, and he was spun around before he could even try to escape.

"There yew are!" Bessa snapped.

Marris stumbled back and nearly collided with the opposite wall. Bessa stood with her hands on her hips, a cleaning rag dangling from her fingers. He glanced at it and shuddered. "Bessa, whatever this is, I don't have time for--"

Bessa shook the rag in his face, and Marris cringed. "Yew 'ave time fer this! 'ow dare yew track yer muddy feet into the kitchens jus' after I got 'em all clean!"

Marris drew himself up when he realized the rag was bone dry. "What are you talking about? I didn't--"

"Yew deny yew were skulking' 'bout the kitchens this morning?"

"Yes, I ... no, I don't. But I wasn't skulking! And--"

"Wotever yew were up to, yew left a bloody mess!"

"I did nothing of the sort."

"Foine! Yew want t' see it fer yerself?"

"No, I don't ... ow, Bessa, let go! I really don't have time for this!"

Bessa dragged him out of the corridor and past a doorway. Marris coughed as a cloud of steam blew over him, carrying the aroma of meat broth and cooked vegetables. A cacophony of clinking dishes and pots, rattling silverware, and pounding feet on hardwood almost masked the slam of the door behind them.

Marris wrenched his arm away as Bessa shut the door. "Bessa, stop it! I was not even in this part of the kitchens! And could we please go somewhere else, the noise here is--"

"Is jus' wot's needed so we're not over'eard while I tell yew wot kind o' fool yew are," Bessa declared.

Marris sighed and hung his head, covering his eyes with a hand. "Great gods, not this again."

"Yeah, this again! Yew are goin' out t' meet with 'im again, ain't yew?"

Marris' head snapped up, his eyes hard. "That is none of your business."

Bessa smirked and nodded. "When someone answers like that, it means 'yes.'"

"Stop analyzing me. Whatever I'm doing does not concern you."

"Like bloody 'ellfire it doesn't."

"I've had enough of this." Marris pushed past Bessa and headed for the door. "I have a schedule to keep."

Bessa blurted out just as the door started to open, "Norlan knows."

Marris froze. Slowly, he turned his head, his hand still gripping the knob. "What?"

Bessa shoved the door closed. "I said 'e knows, yew bloody pillock," Bessa growled. "I over'eard 'im last night. 'e knows yew and that other Ambassador are up t' something."

Marris paled and staggered back, staring at Bessa with shimmering eyes. "But he ... how can he ...?"

"I can't tell yew 'ow 'e knows, jus' that 'e knows. An' 'alno knows. An' ..." Bessa hesitated.

"What? What is it?"

Bessa sighed. "'alno knows 'bout yew and ... that yew don't like girls."

Marris' eyes widened. He uttered a sigh and slumped against the wall. "No, that can't be right. He would have terminated me."

"Norlan don't want yew sacked 'cause 'e wants t' know wot this other Ambassador's up to. Yer bein' watched, Marris."

"You mean just now in the corridor, when I thought--"

"That was me. I ain't as good at it. But 'alno's got people who can do it roight. Yew leave 'ere, an' yer gonna be followed."

"I have to do this!" Marris wailed. "I already told him I would!"

"Shhh!" Bessa hissed, and stepped closer to him.

Marris recoiled. "What difference does it make if everyone knows anyway?"

"'cuz jus' maybe yew 'ave a chance t' fix this. Look, maybe I'm wrong, but I'm thinkin' if yew play along and give Lord Norlan as much information as yew can, 'e'll go easy on yew."

"What? You mean inform him what I know about Mandas' plans?"

"'xactly."

"But I don't know anything! He hasn't shared the details with me."

"Then find out! Yer goin' off t' see 'im again, ain't yew? Get 'im t' cough up what 'e's doin' and report it t' Lord Norlan."

Marris swallowed and ran a trembling hand through his hair. "Bessa, I'm horrible at that sort of acting. I don't know if I could do it without tipping him off."

"Yew gotta try," Bessa said. "Yew can get in real trouble for this, Marris, an' I don't mean yer job."

"My job is pretty much gone."

Bessa sighed and nodded. "I know. But yew don't want it t' get worse, do yew?"

Marris shivered. He had not considered the implications if he were caught or the potential reach of Mandas' plans. Now he imagined himself turned over to a tribunal and charged with treason or espionage. Marris wrapped his arms around himself and bowed his head. "Gods, what in hellfire was I thinking when I did this?" he muttered in a quavering voice.

"Stop it," Bessa snapped. "Don't do this, not now. Yew gotta try t' make this better."

Marris looked up, his eyes glistening. "I don't want to take anyone else down with me."

Bessa swallowed and let out a rattling sigh. "Foine," she said in an uncertain voice. "If yew gotta mention me, so be it."

"I don't mean you. I mean Amanda, one of the slaves."

Bessa's eyes widened. "Wot 'bout 'er?"

"I think Lord Mandas' plans involve her. If I tell Lord Norlan everything I know, I could get her into trouble."

Bessa bit her lip.

"I know, it sounds foolish to be so concerned about a slave, but she's different from the others. She--"

Bessa folded her arms and turned away. "Bloody 'ellfire," she muttered and sniffled once.

Marris tilted his head. "Are you all right?"

Bessa took a deep but quavering breath. She cleared her throat and turned around. She set her face hard, though her eyes were wet. "No one's gonna be all roight 'til yew straighten out this mess. Figures yew would drag someone else in wi' yew."

Marris frowned. "I had no part in that. Lord Mandas decided to use Amanda, not me."

"Yew 'elped 'im, damn yew!"

Marris drew back, nonplussed. He stared as Bessa wiped a tear which had trickled down her cheek. He wanted to defend himself, the words "I had no choice" rising to his lips but stopping just short of being voiced. "All right," Marris said in a miserable voice. "I'll do it. I'll try to get Lord Mandas to give me details of his plans, but I doubt he will tell me anything."

"Yew gotta try," Bessa said, wiping her eyes, her voice steadier. "At least so yew can look at yerself in the mirror in the mornings."

Marris doubted he would be able to do that for some time to come.

This time, Mandas felt uncomfortable even before he stepped into the grubby little tavern at the edge of town, as he had dressed himself in something less than his usual finery. While he doubted any of the louts who frequented such places would know what an Ambassador looked like, he did not want to take the chance anyone could later report seeing someone obviously of the upper echelons.

Nevertheless, he still looked out of place when he stepped inside, as he walked with a sneer engraved upon his face. The barkeep looked up and smirked as Mandas stepped past, shaking his head and muttering something about royals and their need for illicit pleasures (though using far cruder language).

Mandas found Marris sitting at a table in the far corner, somewhat removed from the noise and bustle. Marris flinched at the scrape of wood when Mandas pulled out a chair, the Lord Ambassador's lips curling into a smarmy smile. "I have good news for you, Marris. I daresay it is good for both of us, since it means no more meetings in this cesspit of unwashed peasantry. This is the last time we will meet."

Marris nodded and looked no less anxious.

Mandas tilted his head. "No reaction at all? No sense of relief for keeping your precious job?"

Marris forced a smile, his lips twitching. "Of course, my Lord. I-I'm grateful this is almost over," he said in a flat voice.

"I have one more task for you. You will need to charter the carriage Norlan uses for slave transport for two nights hence to deliver Amanda to the Oceanus fleet."

Marris' eyes widened. "My Lord?"

"Charter Norlan's slave transport carriage," Mandas snapped. "Surely you can hear me above the rabble."

"I heard you, my Lord. I am confused as to why you wish me to do something your own staff could do."

"Because I wish the orders to be in your name."

Marris looked alarmed. "My name? Why? I mean, I'll do this for you, my Lord, but I need to know why."

"You never demanded such explanations before, and I do not see the need for you to start."

Marris sighed and ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "Please, my Lord, you've been asking me to do things which go against my loyalty to--"

Mandas uttered a short bark of laughter. "Loyalty? Why should that matter to you? Do you think Norlan would show any towards you if he learned of your proclivities?"

Marris frowned and tensed. His mouth opened, then closed without a sound. He finally let out a windy sigh. "You will need to tell me something, my Lord, if I am to give the proper instructions to the carriage driver," Marris finally said in a defeated voice.

Mandas smirked and reached into a pocket of his cloak. "The beauty of this task, Marris, is even you cannot screw it up." He produced a scroll with a wax seal and thrust it across the table.

Marris hesitated, then took the scroll into his hand, holding it as if handling a soap bubble.

"Those are instructions to the carriage operator. His name is imprinted upon the seal. You need only to hand it to him, and he will know exactly what to do. You will also give him this." Mandas pulled out a cloth sack closed with a drawstring and tossed it before Marris. It struck the table with a distinct jingling sound. "Payment for his services."

Marris stared at the scroll. His hands trembled.

Mandas raised an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

Marris shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"You will perform this task immediately." Mandas leaned forward. "And just in case you get any more of these foolish 'loyalty' thoughts in your head ..."

Mandas thumped the wax seal with his finger. Marris gasped and nearly dropped the scroll when he felt a tingly and slightly painful electric shock pass through his hands. Energy sparkled around the scroll for a moment.

"The seal is magic," Mandas explained. "To be broken only by the one whose name is upon it. I trust I need not tell you what can happen when you break magical seals."

Marris swallowed and shook his head again. One hand tightened around the scroll as the other snatched the sack and tucked it into his tunic.

"I expect you to complete this task before the midday meal." Mandas stood up. "This is the last time we will see each other. I cannot say it has been a pleasant association, so I will not. Good bye, Marris."

"My Lord, wait!" Marris blurted as Mandas started to walk away.

Mandas whirled around and stepped back to the table. "Why do you not go the rest of the way and shout my full name across the tavern, you man-dipping idiot," Mandas growled.

"I'm sorry, my ... I ..."

"Well, what is it? Stop sniveling and come out with it."

"I just ... I just want to know ... what you intend to do with Amanda."

"What?"

"The dark-haired slave girl, the one--"

"I know, imbecile. Why do you care?"

"I don't want to see her hurt," he said in a voice barely audible above the din.

Mandas smirked. "Really, now? Such sentiment for a slave girl you won't bed?"

Marris said nothing. Anything he said would earn only more mocking reprove.

"Her part in this is of no concern to you. Now do as I have instructed, or worse things may befall you than simply losing your position."

Marris looked up with wide and glistening eyes as Mandas swept through the tavern and out the door.

Norlan held the two items in his hands as if weighing them. He finally lifted his eyes to the servant and kept his cool, stony gaze on the man for a moment before turning away.

"So now we finally have a solid lead on Mandas' plans," Lord Ardon declared as he stepped forward.

Norlan held up the scroll, turning it so the High Lord could see the seal. "Yes, and in a form neither of us can access unless we wish serious injury upon either our minds or bodies. I fear we must let the scroll be delivered as instructed."

"Are you mad?!"

"What else would you have me do, my Lord?" said Norlan, exasperation creeping into his voice. "I am as frustrated as you are, but Mandas has left little to chance. I suspect even if we somehow protect ourselves from the dire effects of breaking the seal, the scroll will likely be destroyed and eliminate it as evidence."

"But we cannot abet his plans!"

"We know to whom the scroll is to be delivered," said Norlan with forced patience. "We can contact him after he receives it."

Ardon snatched the sack from Norlan's hand and yanked the bow loose on the drawstring. He peered inside, then shook out some of the coins into his other hand. "There is at least a thousand platinum in here. This payment will all but ensure the man's silence."

"He will have the scroll."

"Which he will likely be instructed to destroy, or the parchment itself will crumble after he has read it, if Mandas is as crafty as he appears."

"Normally I would not attribute such intelligence to the man," said Norlan with a tired sigh. "But it appears I have spent far too long underestimating his resourcefulness."

"And I assume we can expect no loyalty to you from this carriage operator."

"Carriage operators are like any other independent trade guild; they perform their services for whomever is willing to pay. Likely he is not being told the true purpose of these machinations. And by having my servant deliver the orders, he makes it appear as if the orders are coming from me anyway."

"He's covering his tracks too well. There are still other High Lords who--" Ardon stopped as he glanced at Marris and frowned. "Is this really for his ears, Norlan?"

Norlan turned his head, looking at Marris as if forgetting he was still present. Norlan retrieved the sack from Ardon and marched back to the servant. He slapped the scroll into one hand and the sack into the other. "You will deliver these as you were instructed."

"Yes, my Lord," Marris said in a quavering voice. "And ... and then?"

"And then you will leave. Your position is terminated."

Marris let out a rattling sigh, his shoulders slumping. He gave Norlan a look which was as much relief as it was despair. "I understand, my Lord. I'm sorry."

Norlan had already turned away. Marris bowed his head in respect anyway and trudged out the door.

"That is all you intend to do with him?" Ardon demanded.

"That is all I feel inclined to do, yes."

"Surely he has earned charges of espionage. I daresay he may be guilty of treason!"

"Frankly, my Lord, we have bigger things to worry about than the disposition of a single servant," Norlan said in a clipped tone. "Now, you were about to say something concerning the other High Lords. Perhaps I can guess: they still see me as the archiect of some grand scheme instead of Mandas."

"Yes, and when Mandas manages to forge the release for the Oceanus Fleet Captain, they will suspect you even more."

"Then it is critical we understand Mandas' plans."

"How?" Ardon exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "You just gave away our only piece of evidence!"

"Yet we do know he intends to use a carriage," Norlan said. "And we have Amanda's account. We put these two together, and there are only a limited number of places this carriage could go."

"If Mandas truly means to orchestrate an escape for--"

"No," Norlan said firmly. "As I said before, I underestimated Mandas' intelligence. I will not do so again. Intelligent people do not generate ill feeling between two powerful nations. His intent is to strike at me, therefore he has no plans to allow anyone to escape."

"You are making little sense, Norlan," Ardon exclaimed. "What better way to strike at you than to let this man escape and leave relations with Oceanus in shambles with you to blame?"

"Because of what he said to me at the start. He intends to win. He cannot win by simply making me look bad. And if this man did escape, the King would not have just my hide, but that of Mandas as well."

Ardon's frown slowly became a thoughtful look. Finally, his eyes widened. "Good gods. He cannot possibly be that insidious."

"You have figured it out," Norlan said in a satisfied voice.

"He intends to stop the supposed escape attempt, the very one he orchestrated!"

"Exactly. Then with all the evidence pointing at me, I am blamed as the conspirator, and he is hailed as the hero to the Urisi Nation. I lose. He wins."

Ardon's hands curled into fists. "The bloody bastard."

"What we need is a detailed map of the area surrounding the port," said Norlan. "I will set Halno upon this task at once. Wherever Mandas intends to take Fleet Captain V'riis, it will be within a single night's travel so he can more easily intercept the carriage."

"I will do my own research in that area as well," said Ardon. "And I wish to offer my apologies."

"For what, my Lord?"

"For continuing to hold to the same opinion as some of my peers."

Norlan actually chuckled. "You truly thought I would resort to such subterfuge?"

"I have already admitted my failing," Ardon said testily. "Do not exacerbate it by forcing me to recount it in detail."

Norlan bowed is head. "Of course, my Lord."

Amanda stood in her little alcove once more, her chain attached to the wall, her wrists secured behind her back. Already her pussy ached and oozed from the inevitable arousal generated by her servicing two man-servants thus far. She tried not to sigh as she waited for the next.

She had hoped she would be spared this duty for awhile, but she imagined Norlan was determined to return her to her "proper" role. Yet nothing could distract her from her guilt for condemning Gedric to play the part of another political pawn. It mattered little that the outcome would likely have been the same without her assistance; all the logic in the world would not take away the ache in her heart.

She saw movement outside the curtain from the changing pattern of shadows on the floor and lifted her head. She held out hope this one would want to linger, or even let her set the pace. Yet whoever it was seemed to hesitate. Perhaps he was trying to decide; slaves occupied the alcoves on either side as well.

Finally, magical energy crackled as the privacy seal was broken by the sweep of a hand, and then again as it reestablished itself when it fell back into place. Amanda flinched when she saw it was Marris.

The look on his face had surprised her more than his presence had. He had often appeared sad these past few days, but she had never seen such a depth of despair. Amanda wanted to say the obligatory "what is your pleasure, Master?" but the words remained stuck in her throat. Marris' mouth worked as if he, too, were having a similar problem. Finally, he let out a forlorn sigh. "I had to see you one more time."

"One more time, Master?" Amanda asked, trying not to betray fear in her voice. Her mind raced to the worst possible scenario, that Norlan had sold her to Mandas.

"I no longer work for Lord Norlan," he said in a flat voice.

Amanda's relief was only momentary. Before she could contemplate asking him why, the next words tumbled out of his mouth.

"And I want to apologize if ... if anything I've done will cause you harm."

Amanda was about to reply that he had not caused her any harm which had not been dictated by Mandas, until she realized the tense he had used. Will cause. "This slave doesn't understand, Master."

Marris sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Please, for me, just ... talk about yourself the normal way. Like a person."

Amanda was too thunderstruck to respond.

Marris plunged ahead, as if anxious to fill the silence. "I had to tell him ... Lord Norlan ... of what Lord Mandas has been doing and ..." His eyes clouded with guilt. "Who he was doing it with."

"I had to do the same thing, it's okay." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, did Master Norlan fire you?"

Marris cocked his head. "I'm sorry? Fire?"

"Um ... released you. Said you didn't have a job. Terminated you."

Marris forced a tiny smile. "It wasn't because of you. He had figured out for himself that I was working with Lord Mandas. Please, you have no blame to accept."

Amanda was not sure of that, but she nodded just the same. "I'm sorry, Master," she said in a low voice.

"Don't be. I did this to myself. But I have a horrible feeling I've brought you down with me when Lord Norlan usurps Lord Mandas' plans."

"Usurp? Master Norlan is going to try to stop him?"

"That's what I assume, anyway, after what I had heard from Halno before I informed him of my termination."

"What did you hear from Halno?"

"Lord Norlan wanted him to procure a map of the area around the port where the Oceanus fleet is docked. He was delivering it when I spoke to him."

Amanda nodded slowly. "Why did Master Norlan want the map?"

Marris shook his head.

"Please, Master, tell me!"

"No, you misinterpret me. I don't know. I did not hear that part of the conversation."

Amanda uttered a frustrated sigh. She wished she would stop torturing herself with glimpses of hope which existed only in her mind.

Marris tilted his head. "Why do you wish to know all this?"

"It doesn't matter," Amanda said in a quavering voice.

Marris' eyes glistened. He hated seeing Amanda upset. "I can only guess he wants to stop the carriage that Lord Mandas had me order for him."

"Master Mandas told me of a carriage. So Master Norlan stopped you."

"No, he had me go through with it."

Amanda stared in confusion.

"I don't understand all of it, either, Amanda," Marris said, his voice growing desperate. He stepped back. "I've spent too long in here. Halno will be wondering why I haven't left yet."

"No, wait, please, don't go yet!" Amanda cried.

Marris blinked and tentatively stepped towards her again.

"Please ... do you know why he let you do it anyway?"

"Part of it had to do with the seal on the orders to the carriage operator which they could not break," Marris said. "But where Lord Norlan wanted the map, I suppose he intends to intercept the carriage and wants to determine where it will be going."

Amanda nodded more earnestly.

"I assume you couldn't give him that information?" Marris said.

"Master Mandas did not tell me where it was going, just that there would be a carriage for myself and Captain Gedric."

"Now you know as much as I do," Marris said. "Again, I am so sorry. I wish things could have been different. G-goodbye, Amanda. I wish you well."

Amanda wanted to say something in return, but Marris had already fled, and her thoughts were speeding too fast for her to form the right words before the privacy curtain dropped back.

Norlan was interested in only the surrounding area. Either he suspected the carriage would not travel far or wanted to intercept it close to the port. Mandas had given no clue as to how far the carriage would go other than to state she and Gedric would be "taken to freedom."

Amanda shook her head. No, that was not quite what he had said. He had said something more like "taken on a passage to freedom."

Amanda's eyes widened. No. He had said "taken to your passage to freedom." She believed that implied the carriage ride itself was not the means of escape, but intended only to take them to another transport. She had not remembered that detail when Norlan interrogated her. Now it seemed very significant.

If she had remembered Mandas' words properly. If she had not just conjured up some false memory to comfort her and give her vain hope. If if if.

But it made perfect sense to her. The Urisi Nation was huge. The nearest land border was at least a half moon away by carriage. Thus there had to be another means of transport, and Norlan had reasoned this way as well. Now he had a map which might tell him where Mandas was going to go, a map he just might annotate as he determined Mandas' plans.

Amanda's heart pounded. She had to see that map.

Norlan smoothed out the parchment upon the table, and Lord Ardon peered down at it. A compass rose indicated north towards the top edge of the parchment. The coastline meandered from upper left to lower right. A circle designated "Port Heldon" appeared a third of the way down the coast. The main road snaked eastward from the port. Two other roads branched from it, one forking northeast, and another curving south and then southwest back towards the coast. The former then branched several more times, each one heading through a major town.

Ardon's finger swept across the main road and its branches to the north and northeast. "He could be taking any one of these roads," he said in a tired voice.

"How so?" Norlan asked.

"It stands to reason, does it not? A carriage could not take the Fleet Captain all the way across Urisi territory by itself."

"Yes, exactly my thinking as well."

"It would make more sense to travel as far as a major town, then obtain more clandestine and long-distance transport."

"Possibly. But that would force us to intercept the carriage here." He planted his finger at the first branch point. "Far too close to the port."

Ardon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He will likely have spotters informing him when the road is clear of traffic. They may notice us in wait."

"Then we will set up blocks at all these roads!"

Norlan shook his head. "Preparations for such a large scale operation might be noticed. We have to keep this as small as possible with only minimal participation by the Royal Guard. Just a few off-duty soldiers whom we richify enough to do this with no questions asked and nothing getting back to Erodon or the King."

"You ask for impossibilities as always, Norlan."

Norlan studied the map. "And I believe watching all the roads will be unnecessary. Look."

His finger slid to a point just down the coast from the port. Here the curving south road turned southwest and terminated at a slim, cross-hatched area.

Ardon frowned. "And just what am I looking at?"

"A strip of beach south of Port Heldon. Look at this road." His finger traced the semicircle from the beach back to the port. "Why a road here to an empty beach? I suspect the port was once located further south."

Ardon slowly nodded. "Yes, I believe I recall that now. The original location could not be expanded because of a ridge, so they rebuilt it where Port Heldon is today. But that was a long time ago. Whatever dock facilities were at the old location have been long since abandoned."

"But this would be the easiest path for a supposed escape: a quick trip to an abandoned dock where a small ship can pick them up. The monies from the forged expense report were likely intended to pay for the ship. Perhaps a merchant or black marketeer."

"But that is a fantastic stretch of logic, is it not?" Ardon contended. "Only a small ship could use an abandoned port, and it would never stand up against the Urisi Navy."

"You forget one thing: Mandas is not planning a real escape. A true escape would likely involve the smaller ship meeting a larger one later. But Mandas needed only to arrange the initial pick-up -- which he intends to stop -- to frame me sufficiently, thus there is no subsequent rendezvous planned."

Ardon looked up. "Then he may not have arranged for even the initial pickup. Why spend the platinum when it is not needed?"

"I suspect he did arrange it, and in my name. Thus if the merchants are found and interrogated later, my name will conveniently spill from their lips."

"So what do you propose?"

Norlan slid his finger back slightly from the beach along the semicircle. "He will likely intercept the carriage close to the coast for maximum dramatic effect, as he tends to be a showman when he believes he has the upper hand. Instead, we will intercept the carriage ..." He slid his finger further up and around the semicircle. "Here. The curve of the road will hide us from Mandas and his spotters."

"And we can turn the tables on that traitor," Ardon declared. "If everything you have theorized is true."

"I am basing my analysis on what I know of Mandas' personality and the evidence found thus far."

Ardon tilted his head as he stared at the map. "One moment, Norlan. What is this?" The High Lord thrust his finger at the map. A broken line meandered from Port Heldon towards the beach, following close to the coastline save for several serpentine curves. It ended short of the beach.

"An older road I suspect," Norlan said. "The broken line indicates it is no longer maintained. Note also there is this gap. It does not go all the way to the beach."

"Should we place men there as well to be safe?"

Norlan shook his head. "No carriage driver would be foolish enough to attempt that trip. The land regularly floods during the early spring, so it is likely muddy and rutted. Please remember, we will have scarce resources to spare if we wish to keep this quiet."

"Very well." Ardon drew back. "Mark your plans on the map so we have a reference."

"I will do so," Norlan said. "We must prepare at once. I expect the request for Amanda's services to come tonight, which will force me to send her to the port tomorrow morning so she will be there by evening."

Ardon frowned. "As much as I hate to say this about such a heinous plot, I hope you are right, Norlan. The High Lords are barely holding off Minister Erodon. He is demanding to know why certain reports are being withheld, and it will not be long before he invokes Royal Privilege and overrides us."

"By tomorrow night it will no longer matter," said Norlan. "We will have thwarted Mandas' plans and will have evidence of his conspiracy." He smiled. "He loses. I win."

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