Amanda awoke with a start, her eyes flying open and seeing nothing but smooth stone a hand's breadth from her face. She did not know where she was until she turned over on the soft furs.

She blinked and squinted at the bright, late morning light. She did not remember returning to the slave quarters, let alone her own niche. She had been so tired she had fallen asleep in the carriage despite her injuries. She looked down at her feet and felt her cheek and lips, but found nothing but smooth skin. She was clean as well and still smelled faintly flowery from the soap. She barely remembered that as well.

So now what? Surely he was already planning to sell her, auction her off, or turn her over to the Slavemasters for retraining. But would he even do that?

"There is no point," Amanda said just to hear her own voice and reassure her that he had not somehow secretly used the potion after all. "No point at all."

Some of the other slaves gave her a curious glance. Amanda's eyes flitted to them, and her gaze soon found Larra's. Larra was staring at her with eyes hard and cool. Amanda returned the same look. Perhaps if Norlan did realize that punishment would have no affect on Amanda, she could stand up to Larra more often. She had little left to lose.

Amanda stood up, and something silvery caught the light. She saw a single tray of food upon the table in the center of the chamber. Apparently she had not been awoken for the morning meal, but they had left her portion behind. Some of the pieces of fruit had darkened from exposure to the air, but she didn't care. Her stomach was rumbling at the sight.

Amanda yawned and crossed the chamber. She had only just bit into a piece of bread when a shadow passed over her. She looked up and flinched; Larra was standing over her.

"What did you do last night?" Larra demanded. Her voice never rose above its usual soft cadence, but there was no mistaking the air of assumed authority. She expected an answer.

"This slave does not have to answer you," Amanda said in an even voice muffled slightly by the bread in her mouth.

Amanda finished chewing the bread and reached for a piece of fruit. Larra snatched it from her hand.

"Stop it," Amanda snapped.

"What did you do last night?"

Amanda ignored the piece Larra had taken and took a different one. She took a bite before replying, "Why do you want to know?"

"You did something wrong last night, didn't you? Something that's going to affect the rest of us."

Amanda swallowed her bite and looked around. The other slaves were curious now, though most wore faces of bewilderment. She uttered a small sigh. Perhaps this was one time it was better they remained ignorant. Amanda herself had no idea what would happen next. Norlan had implied he would be in trouble but how far would it go? Would he lose his title? Would he no longer be able to afford keeping his slaves?

"If this slave did anything wrong, this slave will be the one punished," Amanda said, not bothering to look up at Larra.

"Liar."

One of the other slaves gasped.

"Why is this slave a liar?" Amanda asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

"Because a slave that is to be punished isn't left unsealed."

The other slaves craned their necks or ducked their heads so they could see under the table. Amanda reached between her legs and pressed a tentative finger into her slightly damp folds. Her eyes widened. She gave her womanhood a small stroke. She could feel that as well.

"This slave does not know why she is unsealed," Amanda said with genuine wonder. This has to be some sort of oversight, she added in her head.

When Amanda tried to pick up another piece of fruit, Larra shoved the platter across the table, and it clattered to the floor. "You did something, you untrained little bitch," Larra hissed in Amanda's ear. "You did something to become Master Norlan's favorite."

Amanda's eyes widened. "His what?"

The other slaves exchanged looks. Some became sullen, leveling envious and hateful looks at Amanda.

"You became his favorite, and somehow did something to make the rest of us look bad."

"This slave did nothing of the sort."

"Then why are you unsealed?"

Amanda stared. Larra had never raised her voice before. Her eyes blazed. Amanda refused to cringe, but her voice quavered when she spoke. "I-I ... this slave doesn't know!"

Larra's hands balled into fists, and she trembled in rage before she finally whirled around and stalked away. Amanda risked a glance at the other slaves and received openly resentful looks in return.

"Do not even think of requesting anything from me," Larra said in a low, deadly voice. "I do not care how much punishment I will have to endure. I will not touch your pussy."

Amanda stared at Larra's back in total confusion. At least her use of the forbidden pronouns had temporarily shifted the scrutiny of the other slaves.

Amanda had no way of knowing (though she was starting to guess now) that being selected as a favorite slave had enormous implications among her peers. She remained unsealed and could engage in sexual pleasure whenever she wished while she was in the slave quarters. She could administer it herself or request the other slaves attend to her, and they could not refuse.

It was not often done, and was usually frowned upon. It came close to bestowing person-hood on the favorited slave. All slaves were supposed to be things to be owned and used.

Amanda let out a small, despairing sigh as she looked at the remains of the morning meal now splattered on the stones. Perhaps leaving her unsealed had not been an oversight after all. Perhaps Norlan was going to lose everything and wanted to extract some small measure of revenge before the end.

Amanda would be counting the days until that end.

Lord Ambassador Mandas -- a title which he reminded himself he still held until told otherwise -- straightened his formal cloak for the third time and tried not to pace the length of his office again. He looked at the clock as it ticked off the moments towards the late morning candlemark. Soon, he and Norlan would be summoned before High Minister Erodon to explain the incident of the night before, and on the basis of their testimony their fate would be determined.

Mandas drew in a deep breath to try and calm his churning stomach. He was sure he could salvage his position. All the evidence still pointed at Norlan. Erodon may not have any great love for Mandas, but he loathed Norlan and his treaties Erodon was forced to approve under pressure from the High Lords.

Mandas smirked. That influence was gone now. Norlan would not be able to worm his way out of this one. Mandas just might score that win after all. Surely Norlan would no longer hold his title after this. And yet his smile faded as he remembered Gedric had been allowed to escape. The enormity of the diplomatic blunder had yet to settle in Mandas' mind. Did it really matter when they would believe Norlan was at fault?

Except now he could no longer claim he had known about Norlan's plot and had arrived to stop it. A failed attempt was the same as no attempt in Erodon's eyes. No matter. He would get through this. He would ...

"My Lord, you cannot go in there!"

Mandas frowned and spun around.

"My Lord, no, you must--!"

Mandas flinched at the loud crash which cut off his clerk's voice. "What is going on out there?!" he demanded, and started forward.

The door was flung open before he could reach it. Mandas' eyes widened as he stared at Norlan. Just past him, Mandas' clerk lay sprawled on the floor, motionless. One of Norlan's hands was still curled into a fist.

Mandas bolted to the far corner of the office. Just as his fingers clamped around his cane, Norlan grabbed the collar of Mandas' cloak and yanked him back. Mandas gagged as the cloak tie snapped taut against his throat. He tried to lift the cane, but Norlan suddenly shoved Mandas forward. Mandas stumbled and his head hit the wall with a sickening thud.

Mandas grayed out, his legs buckling at the knees, and the cane was whipped out of his hands. Norlan spun him around and pinned him to the wall. He opened his mouth to speak, but all his breath rushed out at once when Norlan rammed the blunt end of the cane into his belly. Mandas tried to double-over, but Norlan jammed the side of the cane against his throat. Mandas coughed and wheezed until Norlan relented slightly.

"S-so this is what you're g-going to do to me now, Norlan?" Mandas croaked. "K-kill me? Add murder to your charges?"

"If murdering you would bring Gedric back, then rest assured, I would do it," Norlan said in a voice like cold steel.

Mandas' eyes shimmered, and he trembled.

"But then you would not be able to give me the one thing which might salvage this diplomatic mission."

Mandas gave Norlan an incredulous stare. "Salvage? It cannot be salvaged! You have already seen to that, and that is what I intend to tell the--"

The pressure on his throat eased, but only because Norlan had let go of one end of the cane to backhand Mandas across the face. Mandas winced from the blow, his cheek red and stinging.

"I do not care what you tell him!" Norlan thundered. "You do not seem to understand something, Mandas. This means the end for both of us. It does not matter what you or I tell the High Minister. He intends to arrest the both of us for treason!"

Mandas' mouth dropped open, his jaw quivering. He started to shake his head.

"He is going to make an example of us before the Oceanus government. He has to."

"I-I am not responsible for this!" Mandas screeched.

"Fine. You keep saying that. Maybe you even believe it. Hellfire, maybe you'll get lucky and make Erodon believe it. I do not care. I want only one thing from you, Mandas, and that is the coordinates of where you sent that merchant ship."

Mandas stared. "I-I have no idea what--"

His head snapped to one side as Norlan backhanded him once more. "Stop it. I know what you did and what you planned. You want that to stay in this room? Fine. Let it stay here. But give me those coordinates."

"Are you mad?!" Mandas screamed, spraying spittle and drops of blood in Norlan's face. "Are you utterly mad?! I g-give you that, and you can just claim it was me all along!"

"You are not listening. It doesn't matter anymore. We are both finished. But there is a difference between losing our titles and being arrested and executed. Or did you forget the penalty for treason? But if I have those coordinates, I can get the Urisi Navy to intercept the ship and bring Gedric back."

Mandas uttered a short, derisive laugh. "Oh, of course, Norlan. I give you those coordinates and you will not claim at all that you got them from me."

Norlan paused, then backed away from the wall. He tossed the cane into the far corner of the room. "No, I will not."

Mandas looked nonplussed. "What?"

"You still don't get it. You still don't understand."

Mandas gave him a bewildered look.

"As much as I was loath to admit it, Mandas, we hold a great deal in common. But there is one crucial difference: I care about the Urisi Nation."

Mandas looked as if he wanted to protest, but instead gave Norlan a cold look and rubbed his sore cheek.

"That's all I care about now. Give me the coordinates, and I will claim the plot you fabricated is true. Yes, that's right. I'm willing to accept the blame. Maybe you can take that small victory, for all the good it will do you. Because the alternative is making an enemy out of the most powerful nation on Narlass."

"S-surely you cannot claim Oceanus would ... would go to war over something as--"

"Get this through your head, Mandas: The Distant East controls Oceanus. If they make a similar advance towards our eastward holdings, they will surround us. Until we can find a way to defend ourselves, we have to placate them. And that is what you have wrecked with your stupid schemes for personal glory."

Mandas tried to maintain a hard gaze, but the hand which now sought to straighten his hair shook too much to do the job properly. "This ... none of this would ... that ... that slave girl ..."

"For once, stop blaming everyone else," Norlan said in a tired voice. "This is not about a slave girl. Had you never approached her, none of this would have happened. Do you want me to beg, Mandas? You want that satisfaction? Fine. I'm begging. I beg of you to give me those coordinates."

Mandas swallowed, and his dry throat clicked. He let out a slow, rattling sigh and nodded. "I'll give them to you."

Norlan stepped into the outer chamber to fetch a quill and parchment. Mandas eyed his cane but felt neither the energy nor the motivation to reach for it. When Norlan returned, Mandas hesitated, then recited the coordinates.

Norlan let out a relieved sigh as he rolled up the scroll. "Thank you."

"But make no mistake, Norlan," Mandas said, his voice still quaking, the admonishing finger he raised still trembling. "Do not try to pin it on me! It will be your handwriting on that parchment, not mine!"

Norlan gave Mandas a level look. "I cannot say exactly what will happen when we appear before Erodon. Most likely I will never be an Ambassador again. Perhaps you will emerge on top as you wanted. But know this, Mandas: no matter what, this ..." He held up the scroll. "... proves I was a far better Ambassador than you will ever be."

He left the office, leaving a shocked look on Mandas' face in his wake.

Gedric had guessed right that Riddon and his crew would be put out enough by the loss of their slave girl that he would not be allowed to spend the voyage in the relative comfort of his room. They put him to work at the crack of dawn, and by the time the sun rose high in the eastern skies, Gedric had stripped down to his waist, perspiration glistening on his torso and running down his face.

He took much taunting at the fairness of his skin, but he voiced not a word of complaint. He ached from toil he had not done since he was a simple sailor himself, but he refused no task and requested no breaks. Finally, Riddon slapped him on the shoulder and gestured. "Knock off and come over here."

Gedric put down the rigging he was helping to replace and sat on a box among the other men. A goblet of water was thrust into his hands. He nodded his thanks and drank it down.

"Gotta 'dmit," Riddon drawled as he raised his tankard. "Ya took ta some honest work real good."

"This is not much different from what I did when I first joined the Imperial Navy," said Gedric. "I'm glad to be of help."

Some of the men of Riddon's crew, also bare-chested and sweating, exchanged looks. "Huh," said Riddon. "Imperial Navy of Oceanus?"

"Yes."

"Betcha went after people like us sumtimes, huh?"

Gedric was aware of the wary gazes now trained upon him. "I did pirate duty. You are no pirates."

Riddon nodded, and this seemed to satisfy the others. "'sright, we're not. Jus' tryin' ta make a livin', ya know?"

"It was a fair transaction. I have no quarrels with it."

"Well, ta be honest, I still got some, ah, quarrels as ya put it. Fact, I hope ta make up a little fer what we lost when we meet up with the other ship."

"And how long do you expect it will be until we reach the point where you supposedly are meeting this other ship?"

"Three days, if the winds hold, since we're down ta the last of our Mage Wind jars." Riddon brought the tankard to his lips, paused, then set it down. He frowned at Gedric. "What in hellfire didja mean 'suppos'dly?'"

Gedric silently chided himself for his slip of the tongue. He knew he needed to address this point, and he had hoped it would wait until he had a chance to prove he could be a good addition to their crew. "It would take a long time to explain, but the gist of it is that your services were requested as part of a political plot. There may be no actual pickup at this rendezvous."

"What does that bloody well mean?"

"The man who hired you either wanted to be rid of me, or never intended for you to pick me up in the first place."

"That don't make no sense."

"Still, it is what I believe has happened. Recall that soldiers were on their way to the beach when you picked me up. You saw them while you were making haste to set sail."

"Okay, yeah, so?"

"So it might be dangerous to approach the coordinates you were given. You may be met by the Urisi Navy instead."

Riddon frowned. "Yeah, sure, we don't show up, an' then everyone goes on 'bout how the Ollo Clan don't live up ta their end of the deal."

"And if the navy indeed confronts you, they may very well take me and the money paid to you."

Riddon bolted to his feet. "That ain't fair! That's not how it works!"

Gedric slowly stood. "You do not need to tell me. An Oceanus captain would do no such thing. But I am not familiar enough with the practices of the Urisi Navy. Have you had enough brushes with them to know for sure?"

Riddon scrubbed his stubbled face with his hand. "Yeah, we got inta some scrapes with 'em. Not nice 'bout it, either. They're innit wi' the Merchant Guild, y'see. Don't like us Guildless Clans runnin' around. But they never took our platinum!"

"But you've never dealt with something like this before. You've never dealt with a Lord Ambassador."

One of the crew suddenly spoke up. "Riddon, I tol' ya that ya shoulda never tried ta do sumthing with a--!"

"Shuddup," Riddon barked. He narrowed his eyes on Gedric. "Okay, pretty-boy. What 'bout this Ambassador? Why does it make any diff'rence, huh?"

"The platinum paid to you was likely from the Royal coffers," Gedric continued. He had no idea if this were true, just as he did not know if the Urisi Navy would indeed take back the platinum. It sounded plausible to him, and he hoped it did to Riddon as well. "And if they do intercept you to get me back, they just may want to get that money back as well."

Riddon scratched the back of his neck. "Bloody hellfire. I can't take the chance this is jus' so much bilge an' some way of ruinin' this clan's reputation."

"Why would I want to do such a thing?" Gedric countered.

Riddon poked a finger into his chest. "Not you, pretty-boy. What did I jus' say 'bout them Navy blokes innit with the Guild, huh? Nah, we gotta show up."

"Then at least let me help!"

Riddon eyed him. "Ya are helpin'. Think we're gonna letcha sit 'round on yer lazy arse?"

"I don't mean that. I was a Fleet Captain. I know something of naval tactics. If a Urisi warship does meet us, I may be able to help you get away from it."

"Mebbe ya should let 'im, Riddie!" one of the crew said.

"Yeah, we don't need no trouble with the bloody navy!" said another.

"I said shuddup!" Riddon barked. "No one's captainin' this here ship 'cept me, got it?!"

A muttered, reluctant approval rippled through the rest of the crew.

Riddon turned to Gedric. "Get back ta work. Don't go tellin' me how to run my ship or my bizness deals. Got it?"

"Got it," Gedric said in a flat voice as he turned away.

High Minister of State Erodon thumped his fist upon his desk and shot to his feet. "This is unprecedented. Unprecedented!"

His bellow rang off the walls of the chamber for another breath. Neither Mandas nor Norlan had had a chance to speak yet. Mandas tried to maintain a proper stance before the Minister, but his eyes kept darting to Norlan. He had been foolish to relinquish those coordinates! Now Norlan would find a way to triumph. Look at him, standing so perfectly calm. A man who was about to implicate himself in a conspiracy did not stand like that.

"And what is remarkable is that I am not quite sure what it is I find unprecedented," Erodon hissed. "The gross conspiracy which led to this incident ..." He looked at Norlan, much to Mandas' relief, until his icy gaze froze on Mandas. "... or the gross incompetence which failed to stop it!"

Neither man spoke. Norlan remained still and composed. Mandas continued to fidget and cast accusing glares at Norlan.

Erodon turned his gaze towards Norlan. "This goes beyond mere liberties taken with the drafting of treaties to include such terms as to make them so unpalatable that they invite debate and disorder between the Crown and the High Lords!" he thundered. His gaze whipped to Mandas. "This goes beyond mere buffoonery and questionable intelligence and loyalty!"

Mandas quickly quelled his shock and held his tongue.

"I demand an explanation for this ... this unpardonable folly!" Erodon shouted. His gaze blazed white-hot upon Norlan. "I will hear from you first, Norlan. And I warn you: certain evidence has come to light which will judge the truth of your words."

Despite hearing this, Mandas did not relax. He knew Norlan too well. Every time, he came up with something at the last candlemark to exonerate him. Every damn time he slipped out of the trap which had been set for him.

"Then, your Excellency, you should consider this a confession rather than an explanation," said Norlan.

Mandas stared, stunned. Erodon himself was taken aback, but he nodded and sat down, steepling his fingers. "Go on."

"I concocted a plot intended to make my peer, Lord Ambassador Mandas, appear the part of the fool before you and the King."

Erodon shifted his eyes briefly to Mandas. "I daresay you need not have bothered, but, continue."

Mandas barely heard the insult. All his attention was on Norlan.

Norlan's words flowed as if they had been truth carved upon stone. "I arranged for a supposed escape by the man whom the Oceanus government wished extradited. I engaged the assistance of a slave."

"A slave," Erodon said in a toneless voice.

"A rather intelligent one I had purchased from Oceanus during the liquidation of its Overlord Manors. I had been planning this for some time, and I saw in her the perfect vehicle by which to relay my supposed plans to the Oceanus Fleet."

Mandas was aghast. He was hearing his own plan played out before the Minister as if it had been Norlan's own. For one wild moment, he resented Norlan taking credit for it.

"You keep saying 'supposed,'" said Erodon. "Explain why or cease using that annoying word and speak directly."

"I do indeed speak directly, your Excellency," said Norlan. "I had never intended for the Fleet Captain to escape. I had intended to implicate Mandas in this plot, then intercept the Fleet Captain at the appropriate moment and claim to be the hero who foiled a conspiracy instigated by Mandas. But, in fact, it was all orchestrated by me."

"Then if this was all your doing, Norlan, why was Mandas there as well?" Erodon demanded.

Norlan had no ready answer, but Mandas blurted into the silence, "I was there to stop him, your Excellency!"

Erodon raised a dubious eyebrow.

"I-I had discovered the conspiracy," Mandas said, his voice quaking but growing more sure the longer Norlan did not rise to his defense. "Your Excellency, surely you have seen for yourself? Surely the evidence you noted is the same I had discovered. One was a request for funds. Ten ... n-no, seven thousand platinum, was it not?"

"And why did you not stop it?!" Erodon roared. "Are you so stupid you cannot find a means to stop a single carriage? Why were you located further down the road from Norlan instead of the other way around? Or will I find that you walk about with your undergarments inside-out because you cannot think straight?!"

"If I may, your Excellency," Norlan said. "Mandas obviously discovered I had intended to travel with the Fleet Captain as a means of protecting him. No doubt Mandas wanted to catch the both of us together, as it would have been the ultimate proof of my treachery."

Mandas wanted to support Norlan's invented detail but had no idea what to say.

"However, both our plans were foiled by an unforeseen complication. The Fleet Captain forced the driver to take another route. Obviously he suspected something was amiss. Perhaps I said something to his Lord Admiral which tipped my hand without realizing it."

Erodon looked from one to the other, his eyes wide and incredulous.

Mandas recognized that look all too well. "Y-your Excellency, if you examine the evidence, you will--"

"Stop your blather about the bloody evidence!" Erodon bellowed.

Mandas closed his mouth so fast his teeth caught the tip of his tongue. He clamped his lips shut and tried to ignore the coppery taste in his mouth.

Erodon stared first at Mandas and then Norlan before shaking his head. "No. Something does not make sense. I just might believe that you, Norlan, would concoct such a scheme. You think yourself above protocol, above decorum, above the rules. You think you can craft any treaty you wish because you have some High Lords in your pocket. So you tried to go for it all. You tried to do something you thought would extend your influence over the Crown as well!"

His voice had risen to a roar, the last syllables echoing for another breath.

Erodon rose to his feet. "But what I am having trouble understanding is how someone like you can be so incompetent as to leave evidence pointing to you."

Mandas remained absolutely still and quiet. He dared not look towards his peer or even directly at the Minister. He simply stared at a point somewhere over the Minister's right shoulder.

"I was sloppy," said Norlan. "I put too much faith in the High Lords to cover for me. Perhaps they understood my true aim too well -- to influence the King -- and grew concerned I would play one against the other."

"And yet High Lord Ardon is still convinced it is Mandas I should be taking to task." He grabbed a sheaf of parchments from his desk and shook them in his fist. "As stated in these incessant and annoying treatises he keeps dispatching!"

"Perhaps he is still playing his part, believing he can exonerate me."

Erodon let the pages fall to the desk, where some scattered and fell to the floor. He made no move to pick them up, and trod on one as he stepped out from behind the desk. He narrowed his eyes to points. "Why tell me this, Norlan? Why confess? The evidence against you is flimsy at best."

Mandas blanched, but the Minister did not see it.

"Because, your Excellency, despite what I have done, I still have the Urisi Nation's best interests at heart. Which is why I wish to present you with this."

Norlan extracted the scroll from his pocket and presented it to the Minister. Erodon recoiled as if something filthy and smelly had been thrust towards him.

Mandas swallowed, his gaze finally drawn to Norlan. His eyes darted between the scroll and Erodon. The Minister frowned and snatched the scroll from Norlan. He tore the ribbon, opened it, and frowned. "Numbers? What is this nonsense?"

"Naval coordinates, your Excellency," said Norlan. "Part of the ruse was to hire the merchants to take the Fleet Captain to a point out to sea where they would meet with another ship. Naturally, there is no other ship, as I had never intended for him to escape. But with those coordinates, your Excellency, the King can send the navy to intercept the merchant vessel and recover the Fleet Captain."

Erodon let the scroll snap closed and shook it before Norlan's face. "And if you were so noble in your dedication to the nation, why did you not provide this information last night? Or this morning? Why did you wait when our nearest ship might be a quarter moon away?!"

"Please, your Excellency! The details are not important. I--"

"Oh, but the details are important, Norlan, they always are with you. You scribble some numbers on a parchment and expect me to believe they are the salvation of our diplomacy with Oceanus?"

"Your Excellency, I beg of you!" Norlan cried. "I do not care what happens to me. Please give those coordinates to the navy. We can still recover the Fleet Captain and salvage our relations with Oceanus!"

Erodon stared at Norlan for a long moment.

Mandas stared as well. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Did Norlan really believe Oceanus to be that great a threat? Mandas had only half-believed the Distant East was in control of Oceanus. But that slave girl. The infernal slave girl. She knew of the Inonni. She believed it. She had been there. Had it really happened as he had heard?

Mandas swallowed and looked forward again before his thoughts could take him somewhere he did not want to go.

Erodon let out a slow breath and clasped his hands behind his back, one of which still held the scroll. "Well, if there is one good thing which can be said for this day, it is that I will never have to deal with you again. I will never have to edit another of your treaties into something far more reasonable only to have the original slapped in my face. Best interests indeed! Your confession has sealed your fate regardless of whatever evidence does or does not exist. Guards!"

The door behind the two Ambassadors burst open. Mandas uttered a gasp and nearly bolted when four guards arranged themselves behind he and Norlan.

"Arrest this one," said Erodon, pointing to Norlan. "Charge: treason."

Two guards seized Norlan's arms and twisted them behind his back. He resisted for only a moment, his eyes still on Erodon. "I will accept the charge! I will say nothing in my--"

"There is no longer anything for you to accept or not accept!" Erodon thundered.

"I meant that I do not care about my fate, but I care about the fate of the Urisi Nation! The coordinates, your Excellency!"

Erodon gave Norlan a level look. "I will take the appropriate action with that information," he said in a cool voice. He gestured, and Norlan was hauled away.

Mandas' heart thundered as he watched the door close in Norlan's wake. He turned his head and flinched when Erodon stood right before him.

"You still claim you attempted to foil this supposed conspiracy from Norlan?" asked Erodon.

For a few moments, Mandas' throat worked as if he were attempting speech, but nothing came forth. Finally, he nodded.

"Really."

"Y-You heard Norlan, Your Excellency, he--"

"I am no longer interested in anything he has said or will ever say again. I am talking to you, not him."

"Yes, I discovered his plans and tried to put a stop to it in a way that would let me catch him in the act. I tried, your Excellency! How could I have known Gedric would--"

"You know what is strange about this whole sordid incident, Mandas?"

Mandas shook his head, his throat closing up, his eyes shimmering.

"How much it sounds like something you would devise rather than Norlan."

Mandas' eyes widened, and he trembled.

"Because not only is the duplicity of this conspiracy more in keeping with your style, but its astounding and epic failure from incompetence is as well." He turned to one of the remaining guards. "Arrest this one. Charge: conspiracy to commit treason."

"What?! No! Your Excellency, please!" Mandas cried as his arms were bent behind his back. "Please, don't do this! It was Norlan! The whole thing was Norlan!"

Erodon said nothing, waiting until Mandas' screams were cut off by the closing of the doors to his office.

"Yes, the whole thing was Norlan," Erodon said in a low voice as he unrolled the scroll once more. "I do believe that."

He tore the parchment into two pieces, then four, then eight, and dumped them in a receptacle by the side of his desk. In the space of a few breaths, a spell was activated, and the detritus spirited off to the incineration pile, where it would be burned with the other confidential documents he discarded over the course of a day.

And now Norlan is no more, Erodon added in the quiet of his mind, a smile gracing his lips for the first time in years.

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