Amanda awoke just before dawn while the other slaves were still asleep. Or at least pretended to be, which she discovered when she dared to open her eyes.

She had been fortunate to sleep facing the inside of the chamber. If she had to turn over, she was sure she would have been beset once more. She caught Larra just before she was about to lift her head and stare at Amanda. Amanda shut her eyes and forced her breath to remain steady. She heard Larra stir once more, then subside. Amanda remained absolutely still and resolved not to rise until she heard the other slaves waking. She did not want to repeat the nightmare of the evening before.

When no one had come to fetch any of the slaves for Norlan's pleasure, Larra had become incensed and had stirred up the other slaves against Amanda. At first, they had confined it to verbal taunts and grabbing her hands to prevent her from pleasuring herself. Sex had been the furthest thing from Amanda's mind, but any attempt to seek seclusion in her niche was seen as a clandestine attempt to touch herself. Larra eventually lost what little control she had and had engaged the other slaves in active sexual torture against Amanda.

For candlemarks into the evening, Amanda had been pinned to the floor by the other slaves while Larra teased Amanda's body until she was wet and oozing. After they had let her go, they followed her around and poked her with their fingers whenever she let her hands stray below the waist.

They had let her sleep only when they became bored. For once, their Draughted state had worked to Amanda's advantage; Larra simply could not hold their attention into the night. Larra had taken up the vigil herself, swapping niches with another slave so she could look directly at Amanda whenever she happened to awaken during the night.

Amanda had no desire to pleasure herself that she could not suppress. Her pussy was warm and damp, but it always was anymore. Amanda feigned sleep until the morning meal arrived. Only Larra continued to cast dark looks at her; the other slaves seemed to have forgotten their resentment, and a few even smiled at her. At least this time she finished her meal without Larra dumping it to the floor.

For once, Amanda hoped to fall back into the routine she had endured for the past season. Her lack of sex seal had to be a simple oversight, one she was sure Halno would correct. He would take her for his own pleasure as he did every morning, ensure she would receive none herself, and restore the complete seal over her sex when he was done. Then perhaps Larra would leave her alone.

Yet Halno did not come. Nor did anyone for some time, even to take the slaves to their alcoves where they could service the staff. The candlemarks crept by, and the milky halo of the sun rose higher in the windows and still no one came. The other slaves were mystified. Larra rounded on Amanda, backing her up against the wall.

"What did you do?" Larra demanded. "Something's very wrong. It's like we've been forgotten! It's like Master Norlan no longer wants us!"

"I didn't do anything that would affect any of you!" Amanda cried, though she doubted the veracity of her own words. If Amanda had adversely affected Norlan's fortunes, it very well could affect the others. She had not intended as such, but she doubted Larra would be swayed by such logic.

"You're lying. You have to be lying."

"I don't know what's going on either," Amanda declared. She tried to scratch an itch above her delta, but Larra smacked her hand away. "Will you quit that?"

"You think this is some sort of game, don't you?"

Amanda stared. "What?"

"That was it all along, wasn't it? You think you're just playing. You think this isn't real."

Now Amanda was convinced that no Draught clouded Larra's mind. She wondered if Norlan had known, or was Larra that much more of an accomplished actress? Amanda glanced at the other slaves; many wore confused looks.

"It's very real for me," Larra said in a lower voice. "I understand something you don't: there is no choice. I had to make it work for me, and I did. And because of that, I'm considered a good slave. I have not been punished in years."

Amanda was too stunned to reply.

Larra's face twisted into a sneer. "And then you come along, and you act like you're just standing on the outside looking in. And you think you can get away with it. And now you've messed something up! You've messed it up for me!"

Amanda slid to one side, but Larra thrust her hand at the wall. Amanda took a deep breath, and her eyes blazed white-hot as they leveled with Larra's gaze. "Messed it up for you? You have no idea how messed up things can be."

"What are you talking about?"

Amanda's voice rose with her fury. "You don't know what things were like for me before I was brought over here. You don't have a clue what 'messed up' really means! You can't even make the comparison. You have no idea what I lost when I came here!"

"Don't you think you can tell me what--!"

Several slaves gasped when the latch on the chamber door was suddenly yanked back, and the door itself burst open. Larra leapt back from Amanda and folded her hands before her, replacing the anger on her face with the same doe-eyed curiosity as the others. Amanda stepped away from the wall as five man-servants piled in the doorway, many eying the slaves with a lascivious gaze.

"See, here, I tol' ya no one had taken 'em away yet!" one of the servants said.

Amanda's eyes widened. Yet? She glanced at Larra, whose mouth had dropped opened in shock.

A second servant scratched his head, looking uneasy. "I dunno. This ain't right, they still belong to--"

"To who?" demanded the first. "To no one! Not yet. An' come on, ya think we're gonna get paid for the last day or two? We got a right t' some, ah, compensation, y'know?"

Amanda's heart pounded. Larra gave her a furious look.

"But if Halno ever caught us--"

"Halno's bloody well gone already! He was outta here soon as he knew he wasn't gonna get no more platinum outta this job."

Amanda swallowed. So many times she had hoped Halno would leave or be fired, and now he was the one she wanted to see.

The second servant looked over the slaves with greater interest. "So ... so y'think they'd actually, well, obey us?"

The first servant swaggered forward. Amanda backed away when it appeared he was approaching her, but he instead stopped in front of Larra. "Grab yer pretty li'l tits fer me, girl."

"Yes, Master," Larra said in a flat voice, and cupped her breasts in her hands.

"Now play with 'em, like yer really enjoyin' it."

Larra slowly fondled them, uttering a soft, husky sigh. Her hips squirmed, her sex oozing through its seal. The nipples rose, and she moaned and shivered whenever her fingers brushed against them.

The servant grinned, a bulge rising in the crotch of his pants. "Now spank yerself across the ass. Nice an' hard."

Amanda swallowed hard. Without hesitation, Larra drew her hand back and landed a steady stream of sharp, stinging blows. The rhythm remained steady through five strokes, then ten. Only when she reached fifteen did Amanda hear even the smallest grunt of pain.

"Okay, that's enough," the servant said after the twentieth blow.

Larra's hand fell away. Her rear glowed pinkish-red.

The other servants surged forward. One grabbed a slave and ordered her to her knees. She had barely complied when his thick manhood was shoved hard into her mouth.

The first servant grinned. "Yeah, that looks nice. On yer knees."

Larra dropped to the floor. She gasped and winced as the servant seized her hair. He yanked his pants down enough to free his engorged manhood and pressed the head to her lips with a wicked grin. As soon as she opened her mouth, he rammed her head forward. She uttered a single choking noise as her face was buried in his thick thatch of pubic hair.

Amanda's heart pounded as she saw the blond slave wince when another servant grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him. He threw her to the floor and pulled her struggling legs open as the slave shook her head, her eyes wide. Amanda gasped when the servant slapped her across the face.

"Stop fightin', stupid bitch," the servant growled, then cursed when he tried to spear her with his manhood. "Aw, bloody hellfire, her cunt's sealed."

Amanda's role as a spectator was abruptly changed when her arm was grabbed and pulled downward until she was forced to fall to her knees. The bone-rattling thump still reverberated through her body when an engorged cock was thrust into her face and forced past her lips.

For once Larra had done her a favor. As soon as Amanda realized what was going to happen, she remembered to angle her head so she could accept all of him without choking as Larra had. At least he was a little more gentle, holding her hair only loosely and letting her do some of the work.

"Of course she's sealed, you stupid git," the first servant called out. "He keeps all of 'em like that."

Amanda heard a struggle. She managed to turn her head just enough on a backstroke to see Larra fighting against the hand behind her head. She finally raised her hands and pushed against his hips until his cock finally fell from her mouth.

"What are you doing, you bitch?" the servant cried and raised his hand.

Larra pointed at Amanda and cried, "That one is unsealed! She's got no sex seal at all!"

Amanda felt her insides go cold as the manhood in her mouth was abruptly pulled away. Before she could react, the servant crouched in front of her and thrust his meaty fingers into her slit. Amanda gasped, tensing her jaw to stop her from moaning as he rubbed her damp folds.

"Bloody hellfire, she's right!" the servant cried. "She's even wet, too!"

He rubbed her harder and thrust his fingers into her tight tunnel. Amanda could no longer repress it; she shivered and uttered a husky sigh as her pussy ran hot and liquid.

"Oh, yeah, ya like that, huh?"

Amanda did not reply. She did not know the answer. Her body had finally become so conditioned to respond to sex that it could operate on its own without any thought or emotion from her.

The servant pushed her. She expected this and lowered herself onto her back. Despite how her heart hammered and how her body trembled, she did not try to stop him. She even opened her legs for him, letting her body operate purely on automatic.

He sank into her in one brutal thrust. She gasped at the sudden and momentarily uncomfortable penetration, the muscles in her pussy clenching in response. The servant made a noise of what she hoped was approval at her tightness. He drew back and started slamming into her.

Amanda grunted with each thrust, their sheer force rocking her body on her rear, which soon became achy and sore from the hard stone floor. The servant's thrusts faltered when another tried to pull him away. "Wait yer bloody turn!" the servant growled back.

Amanda closed her eyes when they threatened to spill tears. She was not really being hurt other than her sore behind. Her pussy was wet, slick, and accommodating. But as much as her body responded, her mind was not there with it. In a way, she felt they had finally broken her.

She did not bother manipulating her sex muscles; the servant's inexpert and brute force approach made it moot. Nothing she could have done would have enhanced her own pleasure, and what there was did not make it into her head, as if her mind had become completely separated from her body.

He spilled his seed into her. She barely felt his cock throbbing inside her. It withdrew and another speared her in its place. She felt it penetrate her and slide back and forth but little else; her womanhood may have well have been sealed as Halno would have done.

Her mind drew into itself; it wanted to be anywhere but here. She kept her eyes closed as if reinforcing the illusion. Everything started to fade from her consciousness: the jerky movements of her body, the slam of another against hers, the jarring thumps of her tender backside against the unyielding floor, the growing unpleasant ache in her pussy. She was not aware of the tears trickling from the corners of her eyes.

"Wot in bloody 'ellfire do yew think yer doin'?!"

Amanda's mind slammed back into her body, and sound erupted around her. She opened her eyes but had to wipe them before she could see properly.

Her gaze focused on the servant who had been fucking her. He was standing but turned away. He gave someone a hard shove, and a livid-faced Bessa stumbled back. She landed a kick squarely between the servant's legs and sent him crashing to the floor. He curled up into a fetal position, clutching his privates and moaning.

Another servant grabbed Bessa's arm. She rounded on him and boxed his ear. He staggered away with a look of horror on his face.

"Oh stop it, yew big baby," Bessa sneered. "An' pull yer bloody pants up. Like I wanna see yer bizness down there. Wot's the matter wi' the lot o' yew?! Yew so addled in the 'ead wi' girl flesh that yew gotta go nutters when no one's around?!"

"Why, you want them for yourself?" the voice of the first servant rang out.

Amanda's eyes widened as she shot to her feet. The first servant turned away from Larra and pulled up his pants. He towered a full head above Bessa's diminutive frame, but Amanda noticed he kept himself well out of reach of Bessa's foot.

Bessa glared at him. "An' wot's that s'pposed t' mean?"

"Just what I meant, you freak," the servant snarled. "It's been obvious for awhile now. You like girls."

Bessa hesitated only a moment before she narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "So wot if I do? Yew see me goin' after 'em like I was some sex-crazed git?"

"You can't talk to me like that!" the servant sputtered. He looked around as if hoping for support, but none of his peers dared approach. The servant wrinkled his nose. "You're just a stupid washing maid."

"A washin' maid that know not t' mess wi' the King's property."

Amanda's jaw dropped.

The servant's eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh-ho! So yer 'igh an' mighty lordship didn't know that prop'ty from a deposed 'ighborn passes t' the Crown when there's no 'eirs. But don't listen t' me, I'm jus' a stupid washin' maid."

Amanda's head was spinning. She looked at the other servants and saw faces filled with everything from anxiety to abject panic. Two servants dashed for the door. The slaves were confused except for Larra, who looked devastated.

"You're lying," the first servant said, though his voice was weak.

"Foine. Keep screwin' the King's prop'ty then. See 'ow forgivin' 'e'll be."

The servant glanced at Larra and Amanda, made a disgusted noise, and stormed out of the chamber. Reluctantly, the other servants followed, the one Bessa had struck still doubled-over in pain. When the last one hesitated and glanced longingly back at the slaves, Bessa gave him a dark look and tapped her foot. The servant cringed and fled.

Bessa paused another moment, then let out a long sigh. "Addled-'eadded pillocks," she muttered.

Amanda stepped forward. "Bessa, thank ..." Her voice choked, and she wiped a tear which had trickled down her cheek. "Thank you."

Bessa turned to her, her eyes sad. "Don't thank me, luv. I was only tellin' the truth."

Amanda said nothing, but her eyes glistened.

"It's true. I was tol' that Lord Norlan's been 'auled off fer treason."

Amanda uttered a gasp. "Oh gods ..."

"So yew really are prop'ty o' the King, but 'e's likely jus' gonna auction yew all off, since 'e don't want no slaves." Bessa sighed. "I'm sorry, luv."

Amanda shook her head. "No, I should be the one who's sorry. I never meant for that to happen. It wasn't even him who--"

Something slammed into her shoulder. Before she could recover from her stumble, she was shoved until her back struck the wall. "You little bitch!" Larra screamed in her face. "You did do something! You ruined everything you stupid cunt! You--"

Bessa grabbed her arm and tore her away from Amanda. When Larra tried to wrench her arm away and opened her mouth to protest, Bessa slapped her hard across the face. Larra staggered back, wide-eyed in shock.

"That's jus' a little of wot Lord Norlan should've done t' yew a long time ago, yew faker."

"F-faker?" Larra cried. "I ... this ... th-this slave doesn't know what--"

"Stop it. Like yew can fool me. I know yew ain't Draughted."

Larra's face reddened.

"But yew act like yew are. At least Amanda 'ere's 'onest about it. She don't go pretendin' she's something she ain't."

Larra narrowed her eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't I? I've been watchin' yew fer a long time."

"Yes, I heard how you like girls," Larra said in a cold voice.

Bessa snorted. "I wouldn't soil meself wi' the likes of yew. Yew really pulled one on Lord Norlan, yew did. But guess wot? 'e knew Amanda never slapped yew. 'e figured out yew were a faker. Wonder how long til he sold yew. Or send yew back to have the Draught."

Amanda's eyes widened. Back in Oceanus, the original formula for the Draught could be given only while the captive was in Portal-shock. Freya had tinkered with it until she had produced one which could be given after the fact, but it had taken a lot of effort. Had the Urisi achieved the same breakthrough or was Bessa just bluffing?

The look of fear on Larra's face suggested the former.

"An' I'll make plenty sure they know wot they're gettin' when they auction yew off. I'll make sure they know yew ain't Draughted."

But Larra was not the only one who was fearful. If they could give the Draught to her, they could give it to Amanda as well. Larra realized this, for she cast a look of cold contempt at Amanda and said, "Then I'll make sure they know about her as well!"

Bessa laughed. "Yeah, like they're gonna listen t' a slave."

Larra's eyes narrowed, and she hissed at Amanda, "You ruined everything. Everything." Her eyes grew wet as she turned away.

Bessa turned to Amanda. "Luv, come wi' me." She marched towards the door.

Amanda needed a moment to force her legs to work and jog after Bessa, as events seemed too surreal to be true. Bessa stopped and turned towards Amanda after stepping just far enough into the passage so the others could not see them. Amanda could not contain herself and blurted out the question, "Bessa, can they really give the Draught to someone at any time?"

Bessa uttered a forlorn sigh, her eyes shimmering. "From wot I know, yes, luv, they can."

Amanda came to the unfortunate conclusion that Bessa was likely correct. The Overlords of Oceanus had never changed the Draught because they all but required their slaves to be Draughted from the start. Urisi culture was more lenient in allowing unDraughted slaves, even if considered nontraditional. After all, they could always "correct" the problem later. "B-Bessa, I can't ... I-I can't let them do that to me ... I just ..."

"Shh, luv, that's why I wanted t' talk t' yew," Bessa said in a low voice. "Listen, I jus' ..." She paused and wrung her hands. "I did something I wasn't s'pposed t' do again. I peeked at Lord Norlan's slave records. 'e never wrote down that yew were unDraughted."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be, luv. So yew gotta pretend yew are."

Amanda nodded. She had done that before at the Overlord Conclave, and no one had discovered the ruse. If she could fool Overlords, she certainly could fool Urisi highborns.

Bessa's eyes teared. "I don't wanna see yew b'come like the others, all empty-'eaded an' ..." She wiped her eyes. "S-sorry ..."

"No, it's okay," Amanda said, her own eyes glistening. She managed a tiny smile. "Bessa, you've been a great friend. I'm going to miss you."

Bessa sniffled once and tears trickled down her cheeks. She pulled Amanda into a tight hug. "Please take care o' yerself, luv. Don't let 'em break yew."

Amanda's smile widened. "I won't, I promise." When they separated from their embrace, Amanda asked, "But what are you doing to do? You're not going to have a job here much longer, are you?"

Bessa shrugged. "I'm a washin' maid, luv. As long as there are dirty palaces and mansions, I'll find something. Don't yew worry about me. Now, yew ... yew better get back inside. 'opefully I knocked enough sense into Larra so she don't bother yew no more."

Amanda nodded and smiled again before she slipped back into the chamber.

Riddon leaned against the main mast as the deck rose and fell upon the swells. His crew stood with their feet spread wide as they performed their tasks to steady themselves against the rolling waves. Water crashed and foamed against the prow, salting the air thick with brine.

"Well, whaddaya got?" Riddon called out over the din, looking up the length of the mast.

Gedric glanced at him. Gedric again stood stripped to the waist, helping another crewman shift some of their cargo to the hidden compartments just below strategically placed deck boards. Riddon had ordered as such the morning after Gedric mentioned possible naval involvement. He did not sweat as profusely, as the sunlight was diffused by a high cloud haze. Unfortunately, it was also a sign of worsening weather.

A head popped up over the edge of the crow's nest. He shouted down to his captain, but his words were drowned out when the ship plowed into the next wave.

Riddon waved his hand. "Hellfire, I can't hear nuthin'. Come down here and talk to me, ya bilge-brained idiot!"

The man clambered down the mast, swaying several times on the rope ladder as the ship tipped and bobbed on the roiling sea. He jumped from the ladder and landed with a thump next to his captain. "Figger we need to turn to the south to avoid the roughest part, Riddie."

"Okay, yeah, I figgered that out," Riddon said, his tone impatient. "Ya see anything else?"

"Nuthin, capt'n. Like we got the sea to ourselves."

Gedric glanced at Riddon again and thought the captain looked relieved. "Fine. I want ya back up there once a candlemark fer now on."

"Aw, c'mon, Riddie, with the waves like this, it's pract'lly throwin' me off the--"

"Shaddup. This weather can change in an eye-blink, an' I wanna know if we're gonna hafta jus' trim the sails and ride it out."

From the crewman's sneer, Gedric surmised he was not fooled, either. "Yeah, sure, capt'n," the crewman muttered, bumping his shoulder hard against Riddon's as he passed by.

Riddon scowled at the crewman before his gaze fell on Gedric. "What the blazin' hellfire are you starin' at, pretty-boy?"

"Sorry, Captain," said Gedric as he looked away.

"Should be payin' attention ta what I tol' ya to do!"

"I am." Gedric grunted as he lifted another crate, suppressing a wince when splinters bit into his arm. He dropped the crate into an opening, and another crewman dropped the deck boards over it. Gedric stepped back as the crewman began nailing it into place. "And we're almost done."

"Good, cuz if any of that gets wet cuz ya were too lazy ta get it done in time b'fore a storm hits, it's comin' outta whatever platinum yer pickup has."

Gedric said nothing, but his eyes expressed his opinion on the matter.

"An' ya better hope ya get yer pickup, cuz I ain't gonna be saddled with the likes of ya."

Gedric inclined his head. "Pardon?"

"Ya heard me. This ain't no passenger ship."

"In the event there is no pickup, I believe I've proven I can be a valuable addition to the crew."

Gedric saw his fellow crewman start to nod, but it was cut short when Riddon let out a snort of laughter. "Not if ya were the last man on Narlass, pretty-boy."

"And why is that?"

"Cuz I don't like crew who mouth off ta me 'bout runnin' the ship."

"Yes, I disagreed with you the other day," Gedric said. "But when you indicated discussion was at an end, I accepted it."

"Yeah, mebbe ya did. This time. But I know yer type, a fancy-pants navy officer."

"Oceanus navy."

"Urisi, Oceanus, it don't matter!" Riddon snapped. "Yer all the same. Sooner or later yer gonna wanna run things yer way. Sorry, only room fer one capt'n here."

Gedric noticed the other members of the crew had stopped to watch the tableau unfold. His eyes darted from face to face. He thought he saw sympathy in some of their eyes, but it may have been wishful thinking. Yet he perceived that not everyone in the crew was happy with Riddon's decision to continue to the pickup, and they were silently hoping Gedric would stand up to Riddon for them.

But Gedric did not wish to spar with Riddon. He wished only to keep out of the hands of the Inonni. He was willing to be a "lowly sailor" for as long as it took to find safe haven. "You will do whatever you feel you have to. I will continue to follow your orders until then."

Riddon paused, as if he were expecting -- or perhaps even desired -- a fight. Finally he let out a sigh and barked, "See that ya do, or I'll be demandin' more platinum at the pickup."

Riddon walked away. Gedric was careful to avoid the gazes of the other men as he set about his next task.

The chamber had grown dark, save for the feeble flickering of a single lamp which provided just enough illumination for the slaves to find the sanitary. The air was still and quiet, save for the soft breathing and occasional low snores of the slumbering slaves. Even Larra had fallen into a deep sleep, her sides slowly rising and falling.

Amanda, however, had yet to achieve anything more than a light nap. She had hoped sleep would come to her easily that night. By late afternoon, a sense of order had been restored when a contingent of the Royal Guard arrived to guard the palace against looters. They had retained a minimal staff, which was anyone willing to settle for the pittance the Crown would pay for them to stay on a little longer.

She did not worry over having to fake being Draughted, nor did the prospect of a new and more cruel Master disturb her. Instead, all her thoughts were focused on a particular pearl which sat inside a sphere of Mage Glass atop the mantel in the parlor.

Amanda had considered asking Bessa to retrieve it, but Bessa had already done more for Amanda than she had any right to expect. Even if Bessa had retrieved it, what then? What would she do with it? Slaves were not allowed possessions of any kind. Bessa would have to hold on to it, which would be as good as never seeing it again.

Amanda sighed and wondered if she had invested too much significance in it. It would tell her only that Sirinna was still alive. Amanda had thought this enough, but it did not work both ways; Sirinna had no idea if Amanda were alive and well.

Yet the thought of abandoning it made her chest feel tight and her stomach turn sour. It grew worse when she realized how little she had been thinking of Sirinna lately.

She wanted to channel her grief into hatred and anger for Jollis, but it seemed an empty gesture. She felt she had exhausted her ability to feel those emotions towards him. Either that, or she was simply growing numb towards him, towards Sirinna, towards everything.

For the first time in a long while, she wished she had never come to Narlass. At least the pain of losing Sirinna through the Portal, and of returning to the foster home, and of watching an adopted father-to-be destroy himself with alcohol would at least have allowed her to feel something.

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