The room which served as the parlor for High Lord Bortho seemed confining despite its owner's great wealth and love of large, expansive chambers. Indeed, in this case, its own opulence was its undoing.

Rich tapestries and beautiful paintings marched high along the walls, their edges almost touching one another. Before them stood statues and carvings composed of every material from wood to stone to metal. Arranged before them were vases, gourds, goblets, and other small treasures, sitting upon small pedestals of marble. Every last one was arranged with expert aplomb such that nothing would completely occlude another while their admirer stood in the center of the chamber. Polished surfaces gleamed so bright as if to resist dust by their mere existence.

The only anomaly lay at the back of the room, where a broad, square marble dais stood low to the floor with nothing before, behind, or atop it. Embedded in the edge facing the center of the chamber was a blue pearl.

All the warmth in the chamber seemed to concentrate into the confined space of its center. The roaring heat in the fireplace rushed over Amanda's already flushed skin. She had no means of retreat; two shackles melded to one another without an intervening chain held her ankles together, forcing her legs closed and straight. Her wrists were chained behind her and to the back of her collar, held high up her back.

Amanda glanced at the mantle as if she expected to see the Farviewing pearl magically appear. Her faint hope that Lord Bortho would purchase it along with her had been dashed the moment she understood for whom she had been purchased. Her new Mistress would have scoffed had Lord Bortho presented her with such a worthless trinket.

Amanda was still stunned at how quickly the transition had come. Auctions were calm, staid affairs among the Urisi highborns, consisting of buyers strolling about examining the merchandise and issuing discrete inquiries to one of several auction coordinators. Lord Bortho, a quiet and unassuming man, had seemed embarrassed to be there.

Amanda worried she might start to sweat. That morning, her Mistress' servants had bathed her most thoroughly, scouring even the smallest spot of dirt from under her nails, which themselves were trimmed and sculpted to perfection. They brushed her hair until it shone and treated it so that not a single split end or tiniest flake of dandruff remained.

Finally, she had been fed a concoction which tasted faintly like the arousal drug, but she soon discovered this formula was far more refined. Now her pussy was no more than pleasantly warm and just wet enough to glisten in the light. Her nipples rose to erect, sensitive nubs which throbbed faintly with her heartbeat.

She flinched when she heard the door to the parlor open, and her Mistress stood in the doorway, gazing at Amanda with eyes both appreciative and scrutinizing. Her ice-white hair was coiffed into an elegant tower, the remainder flowing from the top like a ponytail, the ends brushing the back of her neck. Framed by her light hair, her deep blue eyes were like sapphires set against white velvet.

She swept into the room, the rich silks of her violet gown swishing about long, lithe legs clad in black stockings. The bodice was laced tight about her slim frame, pushing up her breasts until they swelled against the hem. Matching gloves covered her hands and arms to her elbows. The ends of translucent veils were sewn to the gloves just below the wrists, the remainder wrapped loosely about her waist. They billowed like dragon wings when she spread her arms as she approached Amanda, her red-pink lips curling into the smile of a child who had just unwrapped a desired present.

"Ah, so you are my husband's latest gift to me," High Lady Erisa said, her voice soft and breathy. "So thoughtful of the man, remembering what I do for him and how he has gained so much because of me."

Amanda kept her face to the expression of bemused innocence she had practiced before the auction. "This slave does not understand, Mistress," Amanda said in a soft voice.

"Of course you don't. No matter. Now, for a name."

"This slave's name is--"

Lady Erisa raised an admonishing finger, though her lips curled into a small smile. "Now, now. Quiet. Let me think. Hmm." She produced a blue pearl in one of her gloved hands. "This will be easier without the restraints."

She waved her hand over the pearl. The shackles about Amanda's ankles sprang open. The shackles behind her back released her wrists and fell with a loud clank. The chain unraveled and fell atop it in a cascade of iron. Only her collar remained.

Lady Erisa giggled and caressed the pearl as if stroking a beloved pet. "Another little gift from my husband. I do hate having to call on servants all the time for such simple things. Now, step forward."

Amanda did as she was bid. Keeping her thoughts separate from her actions was proving easy, but only because she still did not know what to make of her new Mistress. Despite Lady Erisa's pleasant voice and gentle touch, something made Amanda anxious.

Lady Erisa tilted her head, letting out a slow sigh of what Amanda could interpret only as wonder. The highborn woman let strands of Amanda's luxurious black hair flow through her fingers like water. She brushed more hair away from Amanda's eyes and gazed intently into them.

Amanda tried not to react. Was this where Lady Erisa would discover that Amanda was not Draughted? Norlan often had noted he could see such things in her eyes.

"Oh yes," Lady Erisa whispered, her own eyes widening until they appeared as crystal pools of indigo. "Yes, that would be perfect. So perfect. Dark hair and eyes, wonderfully fair skin. Neither overwhelms the other. You suggest neither day nor night. Twilight. Yes, that's it."

Amanda blinked. Twilight? Was that what Lady Erisa wanted to call her?

Lady Erisa stepped back and giggled. "Yes, Twilight! Perfect name. Perfect time. The velvet sky would look so wonderful against your dark hair, and your skin would suggest the white sparkle of the stars as they come out."

Amanda simply stared at Lady Erisa. Both the confusion and curiosity on her face were genuine, but her heart was also pounding.

Lady Erisa paced back and forth before her newly christened slave. "Yes, I simply must move some of my servants out of the west wing for my remaining time here! There is a hall with a window in the perfect place. The sky is quite expansive there, and would set you off perfectly."

Amanda thought of the dais behind her and understood. She was to become another trophy like the rest of this woman's collection. She wondered if she would eventually see Lady Erisa's other slaves scattered about the palace, each tasked with maintaining a pose atop a marble dais like a living statue.

Lady Erisa stopped before Amanda and heaved a sigh, turning out her lower lip in a pout. "But, alas, there are those who will clamor to see you before the right time, and I simply cannot refuse them, dear Twilight." She picked up her dress and sauntered past Amanda, stopping by the stone dais. She smiled and gestured. "Come and stand here."

Amanda obeyed, though her heart thundered. She was not sure why she was so anxious; being a trophy was not much worse than being a sex toy.

The stone felt chilly against her feet, and she shivered slightly as she turned to face the chamber. Lady Erisa smiled and stepped back. "Now, tilt your hips a bit to one side."

Amanda hesitated, stuck on which direction to go. She finally thrust her hips to the left. She guessed at what Lady Erisa wanted and glided her torso the other way, tilting herself forward slightly so her breasts appeared more prominent.

"Oh, quite good, quite good, Twilight!" Lady Erisa bubbled. "Yes, you understand! But we need a bit more ... a bit more action. Spread your legs, and masturbate lightly."

Amanda was surprised enough at the order that she was slow to comply. Never had Norlan or Halno allowed her to touch herself. She knew she had arrived unsealed but had assumed this would change before long.

She slid her feet apart and lay her fingers against her folds. She felt another shiver, this one of delight. She had forgotten how pleasant this simple act could be. Her pussy responded to her touch, growing more liquid and slick. She had to resist the urge to plunge her fingers deeper.

"Light, very light, just teasing," Lady Erisa said. Her eyes were wide, and her voice quavered with excitement.

Amanda's fingertips drew light swirls about her womanhood. Pleasure trickled through her sex until she let out a breath as a low, husky sigh. Her nipples throbbed, sending more warm tingles through her body.

"Yes, that's it," Lady Erisa murmured in a lustful voice. She slowly raised the hand holding the blue pearl. "Fondle one of your breasts with your free hand."

Amanda cupped the soft flesh and shivered hard as the touch of her nipple against the palm of her hand flooded her pussy with liquid heat, her fingers squishing against the wetness of her folds. She grasped the nipple and moaned, bending her legs slightly at the knees, her fingers sinking a bit further into her slit.

Lady Erisa's eyes glittered. "Perfect."

Her other hand waved over the pearl, and Amanda froze in place.

Amanda thought time itself had somehow come to a dead stop, until she saw Lady Erisa lower her hand and could not shift her gaze to follow it. Her pussy ached from the teasing pleasure, but she could not stroke her fingers against it. Her hand remained clutched at her breast, the fingers closed on the nipple, as still and unyielding as stone.

Amanda wanted to cry out, but her throat was as frozen as the rest of her. Then she wanted to scream when she feared her lungs had been frozen as well, turning her from living stone to dead stone when she suffocated. But she was not stone; her chest still rose and fell, her eyes blinked, and her skin was as soft and fair as it had been moments before.

She heard Lady Erisa step back. "You look absolutely wonderful, Twilight. I am sure the others will just adore my latest little gift from my husband. And you will be nothing less than stunning when I show you off in a proper setting. Now, Twilight, if my guests are sufficiently enamored with you tonight, you will be allowed to finish pleasuring yourself before you head off to sleep." She gave her slave a sly smile. "And just maybe I will allow you to pleasure me in return, if I'm not too worn out."

Lady Erisa sauntered out of the chamber.

Nothing Amanda did allowed her to move. The pearl embedded in the dais glowed, bathing her feet in pale blue-white light. Her fingers remained pressed at the same exact pressure against her sensitized folds and nipple, leaving her on a maddening knife's-edge of pleasuring and non-pleasuring. A drop of her still hot, liquid arousal trickled down the inside of her thigh.

Despite the intense feeling of vulnerability and helplessness, she felt a small measure of relief. She understood what was desired of her right at the start. She was to be the trophy, the object d'art to be put on display as a symbol of wealth, prestige, and power. The sex was almost an afterthought. With Norlan, she realized now she had been caught in a limbo between "real" Urisi slave and "special" Oceanus slave, and he could not decide which he had really wanted.

Perhaps Twilight was a very apt name for her indeed.

Riddon gazed seaward over the prow for the fourth time that morning, wiping his stubbled face with a beefy hand. He uttered a sigh and scratched his unkempt hair as he stared at the horizon, where a distant haze hovered over a becalmed sea. The sun blazed from an azure sky, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

The footsteps behind him were heavy and purposeful. He ignored them and folded his arms, staring into the distance until phantom dots swirled in his view. He narrowed his eyes as the footsteps stopped, feet shuffled, and whispers exchanged.

"You tell him."

"No, you. Wuz yer ideer."

"Fine!" The crewman cleared his throat and spoke in a louder voice. "Uh, Capt'n? We wanna talk to ya 'bout sumthing."

Riddon scanned the horizon once more before turning around. He scowled at the three crewman and growled, "Yeah? Whaddaya want?"

The crewman in the lead hesitated and glanced at one of his compatriots, who jabbed him in the ribs with a whispered "go on!" He turned back to Riddon and cleared his throat again. "Uh, we jus' wanna know, uh, when we're gonna get outta here."

Riddon frowned. "What the blazing hellfire for?"

"Well ... we've been here fer six days and nuthin'! We think ... we think that Gedric fella wuz right all along."

"Oh, do ya, huh?"

The crewman blanched at the tone of contempt in Riddon's voice. Another crewman jumped into the silence. "C'mon, Riddie, when have we ever had ta wait this long?"

"We hadda wait nearly a half moon once fer that shipment of smuggled Honrus artifacts, 'member?"

"Yeah, but that was on land!" piped the third crewman. "We never had ta wait this long in the middle o' the bloody sea!"

"An' how d'ya expect me ta go anywhere when we're becalmed, huh?!"

"We still got some Mage wind left," said the second crewman. "C'mon, Riddie, we gotta get goin' b'fore the navy blokes show up!"

"That's it, I'm tired of this bilge!" Riddon pushed through the crewmen. "Where the bloody hell is pretty-boy?"

"He's down below, doin' inventory on--"

Riddon leaned over the opening in the deck and bellowed, "Get yer fancy-pants arse up here, pretty-boy!"

Footsteps scrambled up the ladder from below-decks, and Gedric's face appeared. "Aye, Captain, what is it?"

"I said get up here!"

Gedric climbed onto the deck. As soon as he had stepped off the ladder, Riddon shoved him hard and nearly sent him falling back into the cargo hold. "You put 'em up ta this, didn't ya?" Riddon demanded.

Gedric frowned. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"All this bilge-water 'bout leavin'!"

"I spoke not a word to anyone."

"He's tellin' the truth, Riddie!" cried the second crewman. "He didn't say nuthin' about this!"

"Shaddup! I wasn't talkin' ta you!" Riddon snapped.

"With all due respect," Gedric began, his tone cool. "I suspect they would have come to you anyway regardless of anything I had said. Surely you realize by now that--"

An arm suddenly speared the air towards the port side from the crow's nest. "SHIP OFF THE PORT BOW!"

The crewmen exchanged shocked and worried looks, then scrambled across the deck to the port-side railing. Gedric turned to join them, but Riddon shoved him out of the way and marched in front. He elbowed several crewmen aside, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the horizon. "I don't see nuthin'."

Gedric craned his neck to see around the others until two crewman parted to allow him room. He thrust his arm over the side. "There! I see it!"

Finally, the others could as well. A speck shimmered against the distant haze and rising thermals. As they watched, it grew in size and steadied, taking on a more definite shape.

"Get the distance viewer," Riddon grunted.

Moments later, the telescoping metal tube was slapped into Riddon's outstretched hand. He brought it to his eye and squinted hard through the lens.

"What is it, Capt'n?" a crewman asked.

"Is is a navy ship?" another asked in a fearful voice.

"Should I fetch the jars of Mage wind?"

"Mebbe we should ask Gedric what he thinks it is."

"All of ya, shut yer bloody pie holes!" Riddon growled. He stared into the viewer for another few moments of tense silence. "Two masts. Wide. Full sail. Can't see no guns. Wait ... she's comin' around a bit, musta got a bit of wind ... yeah, broad and not too long. Gotta be a merchant ship."

"Capt'n!" bellowed the man in the crow's nest. "Message comin' in!"

Reflected sunlight flickered from the prow of the approaching ship.

"Requesting ... permission ... to ... come alongside ... and exchange ... arranged ... cargo."

Gedric breathed a sigh of relief.

Riddon lowered the distance-viewer and glared at his men. "An' all of you arse-brained pillocks woulda had me leave!" he thundered. He crossed over to Gedric and gave him another shove. "You an' yer stupid talk 'bout the navy! Givin' my men all sorts of nutter ideas! I'll be glad ta be rid o' the likes of you! As fer the rest of ya lazy gits, get the blazing hellfire back ta work! Get a message back ta that ship sayin' we got their cargo an' they're bloody well welcome to it!"

"Aye, Captain!" came the chorus from the crewmen as they rushed to their stations. Riddon gave Gedric one final glare before stomping away.

No one was happier than Gedric to be wrong, but he had no idea how this could have come to pass. He would like to think Amanda had somehow been responsible, but that would be implausible. He still thought it odd he could care so much for a slave girl, yet now that his own freedom was close at hand, he felt that much more guilty for leaving her behind. He turned away from the railing, glanced up at the sun to get his bearings, then turned roughly towards the east, looking back towards the Urisi Nation.

"I wish you well, Amanda," he said in a soft voice. "And hope you will one day take another step towards freedom."

As the guard pulled open the door, Erodon's lips twitched into a sneer when his nose was assaulted by the dank and sour odor which roiled up the stone steps. He picked his way down the curving staircase as if tip-toeing among heaps of dung, his footsteps echoing from the high ceiling. He made a disgusted noise as his last footfall landed in a small puddle of brackish water.

"I am not paid nearly enough platinum for this," he muttered as he started forward.

The corridor widened, and his steps echoed louder. The flickering torches on the walls barely held back either the dark or the damp. He fought the urge to look behind him to see if anyone were following him besides the ever-present guards. This was the only place in the entire Royal Palace that the High Minister could say made him nervous.

He passed by one, then two empty cells, and glanced through their tiny barred windows with a sense of trepidation, as if he expected their former occupants to somehow conjure themselves into being. He stumbled a bit as he walked by the second one when he thought he had seen the horribly bearded face of Norlan staring back at him. He had to pause to convince himself he saw nothing but a shadow falling across stone.

He let go a breath he had been holding and finally stopped by the third. Erodon marched between the two guards who flanked the door and peered through the bars of its tiny window.

The tired but still dignified form of Lord Admiral Vortas raised his head and cast a level and undaunted look back. The High Minister's nostrils flared, and he stepped back from the door with a noisy sigh. "Open it."

The guards exchanged a look, then one produced a large key and fit it into the ancient lock. He turned it with a loud click, and the thick wooden door's hinges screeched as it was hauled back.

Erodon stepped to the threshold, and Vortas' eyebrows rose. "So is it time to be taken for my execution now?" Vortas said in a cool if slightly quavering voice.

"Hardly," Erodon sniffed. He reached into his cloak and yanked out a scroll, which he slapped against the chest of one of the guards. "His release papers."

Vortas' eyes widened, and he pulled himself to his feet.

The guard accepted the scroll, unrolled it, read it, and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Now leave us, both of you. And take the rest of the guards with you."

The guard looked at him in confusion. "Your Excellency?"

"I am not in the habit of repeating myself. Go!"

"Yes, Your Excellency!" He gestured to his comrade, then shouted up the steps. "Ho! You heard the High Minister! Clear out, the lot o' ya!"

Erodon sighed and folded his hands, rocking on his heels until the retreating footsteps of the guards had faded.

"To what do I owe this turn of events?" Vortas said in a neutral voice.

"The fact that your incarceration was improper in the extreme, for one," said Erodon, his words sounding forced. "High Lord Ardon assumed far more power in that regard than that to which he was remotely entitled."

Vortas' let his breath go as a gusty sigh and gave the Minister a curt nod, dispensing with the tart rejoinder he had originally conceived. "I am in your debt for correcting the, ah, oversight, as it were."

Erodon scowled. "You are far, far more in the debt of the Urisi Nation than anyone would care to admit, which is why I am here to offer you exactly one choice. And make no mistake about this. I resent being asked to be the one to present it."

"Should I be touched by that sentiment?"

"Do not flatter yourself or assume I have a modicum of compassion for you or your crew. In my mind, you are treasonous rebels, and the only reason you have not been handed over to Oceanus is that they are not interested in collecting you."

"Is that indeed true?" Vortas said, nonplussed.

"So this surprises you, does it? Interesting, but immaterial. No, Lord Admiral, the reason I resent this is because I believe it is reprehensible for an official of His Majesty's Court to openly admit to the failings of his government to foreigners."

Vortas said nothing, but looked quite intrigued. This infuriated the High Minister further, and the first few of his next words were spoken through clenched teeth.

"You had expressed concern to former Ambassador Norlan about the power of the Oceanus navy. It appears your concerns have reached the right ears. Thus comes your one choice: you and your crew will assist the Urisi Navy in training up their combat skills until they are on par with those of the Oceanus Navy."

Vortas stared, his mouth dropping open.

Erodon's eyes narrowed. "If that is indicative of your response, kindly note I presented this as your only choice and--"

"We would be delighted to do as you ask!" Vortas boomed.

Erodon paused and gave the Lord Admiral an icy look. "Very well," he said in a stiff voice. "You will be returned to your fleet at once. Your fleet will be escorted to a larger port up the coast. There, your men will be granted liberty for a quarter moon. If they do not somehow completely destroy the town in drunken rowdiness, your fleet will be integrated into the Urisi Naval Command. You and your crew will swear allegiance to the Crown. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, Your Excellency. And thank you!"

Erodon recoiled when Vortas stepped forward. "Do not thank me, I had little to do with this. You will always be a traitor in my eyes."

From the distance came a sudden, muffled thunk, like metal falling against wood. Vortas flinched, his hand fluttering at his neck as Erodon closed his eyes. When the sound repeated, Erodon let out his breath in a slow, relieved sigh and opened his eyes. He stepped back and gazed at the two empty cells in satisfaction. "And I have had more than my share of traitors to last me for some time."

He spun on his heel and marched back towards the steps.

The calm sea allowed the other merchant ship to come right alongside Riddon's ship. Ropes were tossed to one another and secured, and planks pulled along the ropes to bridge the gap. A broad man with a full beard scurried across the makeshift gangway and thumped to the deck of Riddon's ship. "Is the Captain of this ship about?" he asked in an obvious Oceanus accent.

Riddon swaggered forward. "Yeah, that be me. Ollo independent merchant clan."

"Ruis Ne'trusea," said the Oceanus sea merchant. "Sister clan to Ne'land. We got word from Ne'land Clan Leader Uridon that you had a passenger to transfer to us."

Gedric stepped forward. "That would be me. Gedric V'riis."

Ruis looked momentarily nonplussed. "Yeah, that's the name. Huh."

"Is there a problem?" Gedric asked.

The merchant shook his head. "Not really. It's just that Uridon was sure this was some kind of mistake." His eyes darted across the deck. "Or some kind of set up."

Riddon frowned. "Ain't no 'set up,' whatever the bloody hellfire ya mean by that. Jus' bizness. An' ya got bizness with me b'fore ya can take pretty-boy here."

"Oh? Do I now?"

"Yeah. I got cheated outta part of a deal fer takin' this git. I was s'posed ta get a slave girl. So I'm owed what I lost."

Ruis looked amused. "Oceanus merchants don't carry slave girls."

"Don't take me fer a fool, 'kay? I want platinum. She was worth three thousand ta me. So that's what pretty-boy here is worth to ya if ya want 'im."

Ruis frowned. "No one said a blazing thing about payment, just a pickup."

"I am willing to pay my way by working as part of your crew," Gedric said.

"It would take years of labor to pay back three thousand. I better check this with my clan leader." He withdrew a blue pearl and gave Riddon a pointed look when he stepped closer. "In private."

Riddon grunted and nodded, waving towards the bow of the ship. Ruis stepped away, and a shimmering Farview image stood before him when he was far enough to avoid being overheard.

Riddon scowled at Gedric. "Ya better hope he comes through. I'm not toleratin' ya a single moment on this ship. Ya go with them or ya go it alone."

"You would cast me into the sea?" Gedric said, more stunned than fearful.

"I'll give ya one of the rafts an' some supplies. With luck, ya can get back to land b'fore the next storm comes up. But I won't be havin' ya on this ship causin' more trouble!"

A short while later, the Farview image disappeared, and Ruis returned. "You'll have your platinum soon as we can transfer it from our ship," he said in a curt voice. "Apparently Uridon has promised to repay our clan, plus a fee for our services, of course."

Riddon smirked. "Nat'rally."

He turned to Gedric. "You better not be hauling much. We don't have a lot of extra space."

"All I have is what you see and a shirt."

"Good. And you definitely will be paying your way. It will be at least four moons before we get back to Oceanus with all the stops we're making. We have no use for freeloaders."

"I will be happy to do whatever you wish of me."

Ruis paused as if evaluating Gedric, then nodded once and turned to Riddon. "Three thousand platinum from us, then we'll take Gedric on board." He extended an arm. "Deal?"

Riddon clasped Ruis' arm and pumped it once. "Deal."

Ruis turned towards the gangplank. Gedric stepped forward. "Excuse me, Merchant Ruis?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know if Clan Leader Uridon is in touch with Lord ... former Lord Tarras K'riis?"

"Yeah, that's what I had heard. Why?"

"Would it be possible to get a message to Uridon to relay to Tarras?"

Ruis sighed. "I can ask my clan leader, if the message is short. We can talk about it after you're on board."

Gedric nodded and smiled. "Thank you."

Ruis paused and stared at Gedric for another long moment.

"Something the matter?" Gedric asked.

Ruis shook his head. "Just wondering what makes you so special that Uridon would cough up three thousand for you. Stupid, if you ask me."

Gedric remained silent.

Ruis smirked. "Don't be surprised if someone wheedles it out of you. Merchants love dealing in information more than anything else."

"I do not doubt that for a moment," Gedric said, and wondered if, perhaps, through the merchants he might yet learn of Amanda's fate.

"Wanderer."

Jollis' hearing was better. The word came to him far more clearly than when he had first awakened in the care of the Healer. Yet he need not have heard Yonlas' somber tone, for he had already detected a faint acrid odor. He rose from his meditative state and cast a forlorn look upon the broken and blackened pieces cradled in Yonlas' hands. He bid the Cohort to come forward.

Yonlas stopped by the side of Jollis' bed and bowed his head. "Ambassador Norlan's pearl, Wanderer."

The statement was hardly necessary, but expected. Jollis uttered a slow sigh and shook his head. "Most distasteful. They punish others for their own failures."

"But is that not what is happening with us?"

Jollis looked at Yonlas, whose eyes were both inquiring and pleading. "Yet who is doing the punishing, and who is suffering for it?"

Yonlas recoiled, as if the question had flown in his face like a physical object.

"Ah, that is the dilemma, you see," said Jollis. He lifted the blanket from his legs and swung them over the side of the bed. "And only time will tell where the answer lies."

Yonlas placed the remnants of the pearl upon the small table beside Jollis' bed and folded his hands. "Everything you have done, I have tried to find a reason in it, a direction."

Jollis pushed himself off the bed and slowly stood. He bent his legs at the knees a few times to test his weight upon them. "And have you found it?"

"Yes, but it leads away from the path which was laid before us."

"Events have opened a new path, and we must follow it."

"Must we?"

Jollis considered Yonlas. Even as tightly laced as the Cohort's fingers were, his hands still twitched, and his eyes shimmered with longing and fear.

Yonlas felt prompted to defend his question. "I ask only because of your statement earlier. You act without guidance."

"And yet you did as I asked despite this statement."

"I ... I had hoped ..."

"That in the action you would find wisdom." Jollis shook his head. "It does not work that way. Sometimes the only way to find out where the path will lead is to follow it. And that is what I am about to do."

Yonlas stepped back as Jollis walked past him to where his belongings were gathered. "Wanderer, you are ... you are not leaving?"

"I must. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to conceal me."

"But your injuries! You have been recovering for only a quarter moon."

"I have spoken to the Healer. She is not pleased I am leaving so soon, but my injuries will continue to heal so long as I do not overtax myself. My back will fare adequately if I continue to apply the salve she has given me. I have accepted the fact that I will scar more heavily now."

Yonlas lowered his head and sighed. "I will pray for you and your journey. May it be blessed by the gods."

Jollis gave Yonlas an uneasy smile, and found he had no words for him. He tried to fall back on an adage of the fool and the wise man, but none seemed appropriate. Instead, he remained silent as Yonlas trudged out of the room.

Jollis dressed himself quickly and gathered his belongings. He needed to leave while he still had the cover of darkness. He could be away from the Imperial Palace before anyone knew he was gone, and before Master Kyllos could try to stop him.

He opened the door into the empty corridor and paused. He gazed down its dim length, shadows shifting under the flickering light of the oil lamps which burned low in their niches near the ceiling. The way appeared as dark and as vague as this new path appeared in his mind. All he knew was that he no longer had the Holy Mountain waiting for him at the other end. That path, he realized with a mixture of relief and chagrin, was closed to him forever.

Jollis uttered a small, sad sigh and slipped out the door. He slid into the darkness and was gone.

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