She didn't understand.

A man came to her again. He was to use her once more, just like a slave. But there was nothing pleasant about it. There was no eagerness as he approached, only fear. There was no sense of anticipation, only dread.

She didn't understand.

There was no struggle. But why would there be? Why would she want to fight it? Yet it was not a submission out of duty or a willingness to please. It was a stark acceptance of fate. It was a hope that it would be over with as soon as possible.

She didn't understand.

There was no wonderful tingle of excitement and arousal as he approached. No shiver of desire, no flood of warmth and wetness in her intimate regions. There was an ache, but it was not of unfulfilled lust.

She didn't understand.

And then the pain. Her sensibilities reeled, and her body twitched in agitation. It shouldn't hurt! Why did it hurt? Why did she want to cry?

She didn't understand, but she wanted it to stop. No more. It shouldn't hurt. It should never hurt. Something's wrong.

Even when it did stop, there was more pain. Why? What did he do? Slapping? Hitting? Why? What did she do wrong? Why was she being punished so severely?

The pain won't stop. Even after he finally relents, it won't stop. Why was there no Healer? Why does it hurt so much down there? Why ... Why did ...

Why ...

Sirinna's body jerked once as she was jolted awake.

She whimpered, her body curling as if a wave of real pain had flooded over her. The phantom sensation vanished a moment later. Her body relaxed, and she let out a quavering sigh.

Sirinna sat up in bed and raised a shaky hand to her forehead. Her heart still hammered, and her body still trembled with fear. Her eyes darted in the dim light of pre-dawn, as if she expected the man from her dream to be in the room with her.

It made no sense to her. Why would she be frightened of any man that might be in the Manor? No one would treat her as cruel as ...

As ...

Sirinna shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh. She felt like she almost knew what was going on in these dreams. As she became more alert, the dream slowly made less sense.

That was not her. It couldn't be. She was always ready and eager to provide for another's pleasure. No one had to force it from her. She would never be unreceptive. And no man would have reason to punish her so brutally. Even Master Roquan would never be that forceful in his punishments.

She finally made a connection. She recalled the time she had overheard Rennis speaking about Sirinna, how she might have been abused. If such a thing had happened, it existed only on the memories that were mercifully removed by the Draught.

Sirinna shook her head. No, it couldn't be that. She must have been mistaken. She was not supposed to have remembered what was said anyway. A good slave never did. A good slave let those around her have their secrets. She did not recall a single thing that others have said around her, so why was this memory so persistent?

Sirinna let out a long sigh, her hands pressed to her temples. She closed her eyes, then quickly opened them again, afraid that the imagery from the dream might replay once more.

Sirinna looked towards Amanda's chamber, where the girl continued to sleep soundly. Perhaps she should bring this up with Amanda. She might understand what was going on. Amanda could reassure her that these were not really Sirinna's own memories, but something else entirely. Amanda was so much smarter than Sirinna. She would know the answer.

Sirinna was suddenly cognizant of her own intellectual limitation. Now she wished that Vanlo had given her that potion. Then she would not have to bother Amanda at all.

Roquan emerged from his quarters just as the first faint rays of sunrise stretched across the Manor. He strolled to the edge of the gardens, where a man waited for him. "You wished to see me, Lanno?" asked the Overlord.

Lanno shifted his feet. "Um, yes, my Lord. I, uh, have something I need to talk to you about."

"Yes?"

"This ruse that you're doing to get Freya to leave her Manor. Do you have any idea what will happen with Evella, her Healer?"

"Ah, yes, her," Roquan said. There was a hint of disdain in his voice that Lanno tried to ignore. "I have no idea. Why should I be concerned?"

"My Lord, I knew Evella back at the Guild Hall. What she did for Freya is not something she would normally do. I think Freya forced her into it."

After a moment's pause, Roquan nodded. "Very well. I will take you at your word. I still believe she exercised poor judgment, but I will no longer think of her as being a direct accomplice. Is that all you wish of me?"

"No. Um, I was hoping there was some way we could ... well, that we could get her away from Freya."

"I do not see how we could. The only way to do so would be to Farview her and tell her of the plot, which would only expose the ruse for what it is."

Lanno nodded. "I understand that. But surely there's something we can do?"

"If there is, I do not see it. I am sorry, Lanno, but her fate is in Freya's hands. It is unlikely she will let the girl out of her sight considering what she knows of Freya's illicit actions."

Lanno looked crestfallen. "And there's no way we can get Freya to come here?"

Roquan tilted his head. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, Freya has to leave her Manor since she thinks she's going to be overrun by the Emperor's legions. She has to go somewhere. Could you offer her ...?"

"I will do nothing of the kind, and it is unlikely she would accept in any case."

"But then you could keep her here. You could keep an eye on her."

Roquan raised an eyebrow. "You mean imprison her here?"

"Well, why not? I mean, come on, look what she's doing. It's criminal! We can't let her loose on ..."

"Master Lanno, I am sorry," said Roquan. "As much as I would like to hold her to her crimes, it is not for me to judge. She must be held accountable to the Overlords as a whole. It must be done before a formal Conclave. It is truly a moot point, however, as Freya would never accept sanctuary here. She would suspect duplicity from the start."

Lanno wanted to rail against the Overlord for his shortsightedness, but realized that he would likely sound unreasonable to Roquan's ears.

"I am sorry," Roquan repeated in a more contrite voice.

Lanno nodded solemnly. "I understand."

"It is my hope that Freya will face the Overlords soon. That would be the most auspicious time to break Freya's hold over Evella."

"Yes, thank you. Sorry to have wasted your time, Overlord. Good day."

"Good day," Roquan said to the already retreating back and slumped shoulders of the young Healer.

Amanda put down the half-eaten fruit and stared at Sirinna. "I thought you told me you weren't having those dreams anymore."

Sirinna looked embarrassed. She shifted her leg under her. "Well, I don't have them that often, love, I just ..."

"You shouldn't be having them at all!"

"Amanda, it's all right. I just wondered if you could tell me what it means. I ... I don't understand these things as well as you do."

There was a definite hint of regret in Sirinna's voice, but Amanda was panicked enough that she did not notice. She was not sure how to respond. She did not want to confirm that these were actual memories from Sirinna's past. She did not want them to be. The implications sickened her.

"These aren't real, are they?" Sirinna asked nervously into Amanda's silence.

"No, of course not," Amanda replied quickly. "Why would they be? Sex is always enjoyable for you, right?"

Sirinna nodded and slowly smiled. "Yes, of course it is. You should know that, of all people."

A hint of a smile played across Amanda's lips as well, but it was largely forced. "I think you're just having bad dreams, like people sometimes do."

"But I've never had them before now. Before recently, I mean."

"Well ... you're ... you're under a lot of stress."

Sirinna tilted her head. "I am?"

Amanda hated herself for lying. She was taking advantage of her lover's more limited intelligence, and it twisted her stomach with guilt. "Yes. We all are. Just with everything that's going on now."

"You know far more about that than I do, Amanda. I know only what you tell me, and you haven't really spoken much about it lately."

"There's not a lot to tell," Amanda lied again. "Not really. I didn't want to bore you with just the same old stuff."

"You're never a bore, love. And ... I like to try to understand things. I know you want me to understand more, so I've been trying." She paused. "This civil war, it's still going on, right? Wasn't Lord Duric going to do something to the Emperor? Replace him? That's it, isn't it? He wants to have someone else to be Emperor."

Amanda was stunned. "You remember that? You understand that?"

"Well, I understand it's important. The Emperor is not doing his job. He's doing things that are wrong. Like when he tried to take me, or how he ignores the ... the, um ... something that tells him the rules. He did something against those rules. So that got people upset with him. So they want someone different."

Amanda was speechless.

Sometimes Amanda would forget that Sirinna had a limited understanding of the world and gave her more information than she could handle, as anxious as Amanda sometimes was to have someone to talk to about current events. Apparently, however, some of what she had said had stuck. This went a step further. Sirinna had actually pulled together the bits of information into something coherent.

But what was more astonishing than Sirinna's power of association was the fact that she had not couched her statements as things that Roquan wanted. Until now, Sirinna could only voice things in terms of how it fit into her own little world view, thus her only yardstick was how it pleased or did not please Roquan.

"Did I get that wrong?" Sirinna asked in the wake of Amanda's silence.

"Uh ... no ... no, Sirinna, that's right. That's pretty much what's going on," said Amanda in a hollow voice.

"Is there something wrong, love?"

"Sirinna, I need you to tell me honestly. Have you been trying to remember? I mean, trying to remember your past, before you had the Draught?"

Sirinna hesitated. "Well ... yes, I a little."

"Well, stop it!"

Sirinna looked surprised. "I'm sorry?"

"Stop it. Don't do it. Don't try to remember, it's not really important."

"But you seemed to think that it was. I just ..."

Amanda shook her head. "No, I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't be trying to change you."

"Change me?"

"Yes, change you into something you're not. Just like you don't do that to me. I mean, you trained me and all that, but you never tried to stop me from thinking on my own, or to stop wanting something more than being a slave."

Sirinna reached across the serving platter and took Amanda's hand. "Of course I don't. You have to be who you are, Amanda. Being a slave is important, and it's what you are. But nothing says you can't do anything else. I just never had a Trainee that wanted such things."

Amanda slowly smiled and her eyes blurred with tears. She pulled Sirinna into an embrace, upsetting the platter and spilling some of the contents on the furs. "I'm sorry, Sirinna," Amanda said softly.

"Sorry for what, love?"

"Just ... just for trying to force my thinking on you. For making decisions for you. That wasn't right."

Sirinna hugged Amanda tightly for a few more moments, then eased out of it. She smiled at her lover. "It's okay. But do you really want me to stop trying to remember?"

Amanda wiped her eyes. "Yes, please. You were right. You really don't need those memories. They're not important." She glanced down as Sirinna began to retrieve items that had fallen from the platter. "Oops. Sorry. Now the fruit is going to have hairs on it."

Sirinna smiled. "It's all right, I can get us some more. All right, love, I won't try to remember then. But you're sure those dreams are not my memories?"

Amanda shook her head. "They're not your memories. Not in the least. I think your mind just played a sort of trick on you. You remembered the bit you thought you overheard about being abused, and combined it with wanting to remember, so your mind invented this."

Sirinna nodded slowly. She did not fully understand it, but it made some sense to her. It was certainly preferable to believing that such things could have happened to her.

Amanda actually thought her explanation sounded plausible. She just had to hope that Sirinna would not make a connection that would cause the logic to collapse.

Sirinna finished collecting the remains of breakfast. "Do you wish me to get us some more, love?"

Amanda shook her head. She did not have an appetite anymore. "I've had enough. I have to get over to Master Doran and attend to him this morning."

Sirinna smiled. "Have you been doing well by him?"

"Yes, he seems to like me, and he's doing much better."

"Very good. Having other Overlords look on you favorably is always good."

Amanda smiled faintly and nodded. She rose from the bed. "I'll see you at midday, Mistress."

Sirinna smiled and nodded. Amanda returned the smile and headed out.

Roquan picked up his goblet and swirled the wine around within it, a gesture that was a bit uncharacteristic. He peered into it as if he could see something in the eddies.

"Having second thoughts?"

Roquan looked up and across the small table. Rennis gave him a lopsided smile, his goblet held high. "Second thoughts about what, Rennis? About Amanda? About the Conclave? About this war? Which dead horse shall we continue to abuse?"

Rennis raised an eyebrow. "I was referring only to sharing a drink with me this early in the morning."

Roquan looked taken aback, then silently took a sip of his wine before setting the goblet down. "My apologies," he muttered.

"You're too much on edge, Roquan. You always did have a problem with that."

"I believe I have good reason to be 'on edge,' as you put it."

Rennis shrugged and took another drink. "I'm not saying that you shouldn't be concerned about what's going on. I just mean you can't let it get to you. Like I almost did with Sirinna."

Roquan appeared to relax somewhat. "So you have come to terms with that?"

"Yes. Really, I can't imagine her being in a better place. She has you and Amanda looking out for her, and you have Vanlo. I would likely be too overprotective if I tried to take her back."

"You assume I would even sell her back to you."

Rennis fixed a level gaze at his friend. "You would if we both thought it was best for her."

Roquan paused, then slowly nodded. "I would. But you would have to take Amanda as well."

Rennis smirked. "Sure, why not? I need some excitement in my life."

"I could do with a little less. Will you be returning to your Manor soon?"

Rennis leaned back in his seat. "Yes. I don't think there is anything more to be done here that can't be done over Farview."

"I will keep you appraised of the situation with Freya. I am hoping she will not delay in making her exit from her Manor."

"If she does. If she doesn't see through the ruse. If she doesn't try to contact the Emperor herself."

Roquan frowned. "I had not considered that possibility."

"Neither did I, until now. Long shot, but nothing is predictable anymore."

"Nevertheless, I should have considered it. I ... oh, hellfire, what now?"

Rennis peered over the top of his goblet questioningly.

Roquan stood. "I am being summoned to Farview. The merchant clan leader Uridon." He stepped away from the table and drew himself properly upright. "I accept the summons."

Uridon's haggard visage sparkled into view.

"Good day, Clan Leader," said Roquan. "What news have you?"

"Good day, Overlord," growled Uridon. "I have a message for you. A courier is on his way to your Manor with a parcel from the Mage Guild."

Rennis raised an eyebrow and set his goblet down. "I am expecting nothing from the Guild Hall, let alone anything that would require so quick a delivery time as to make use of a courier," said Roquan curtly.

"Be that as it may, Roquan, one is on his way to you."

"And just what is it he is delivering to me?"

"A Farviewing pearl bound to someone at the Guild."

"Oh for the love of the gods," Roquan muttered in irritation. "Uridon, I have already been duped once in recent times with a pearl that contained illicit magic upon it. I will not accept yet another attempt to ..."

"Roquan, as far as I have been told, this pearl is clean," said Uridon. "It is nothing more than a Farviewing pearl."

"There is no one at the Guild Hall with whom I would wish to speak. I know of only one Mage personally, and he is the same one that assisted in the earlier subterfuge."

"The pearl is from a Mage named Uroddus Q'garra."

Roquan hesitated. He glanced back at Rennis, who shook his head. "Overlord Rennis is with me. He has never heard of a Mage by this name."

"I wish I had more information for you, Roquan," said Uridon. "I was suspicious as well, but once I saw that it was clean and that it was not from Q'yros, I have tried to expedite its arrival."

"It is a wasted effort."

Uridon sighed. "I was going to ask if you wished to power your Portal for the final leg of his journey, but I can see what the answer will be to that."

"Then I have no need to answer it," said Roquan tightly. "I will accept this courier and his parcel on your word, Clan Leader. But whatever the Mage Guild has to say, it can wait until I have dealt with all the other crises in which I am embroiled. But I thank you for the warning."

Uridon nodded. "Very well. I can't say that I'm not a bit suspicious of the Mages myself, but then again, all merchants have a bit of uneasiness with Magery. Good day to you, Roquan."

"Good day, Uridon."

Rennis waited until the clan leader's image had faded away. "So, no idea what this is about?"

Roquan shook his head. "None." He sat and swept up the goblet. "I have had little use for the Mage Guild since they refused to take sides in this war."

"They're supposed to be neutral. Just like the merchants are supposed to be."

"But the merchants under Uridon understood that sides must be taken. The Mages have failed to realize this. And if they are not part of the solution, they are part of the problem."

Rennis considered, then shrugged and finished off the rest of his wine. "In either case, perhaps I will stay a bit longer to see what the Guild has to say. They've been very quiet of late, and I'm curious to know what they've been up to."

"Likely nothing," said Roquan with disdain. "They appear to be more interested in platinum than ideals."

Lanno stood by one of the counters in the treatment room, sorting through some of the inventory of herbs and tinctures. He was not aware of another presence in the room until an herb bag was dropped before him. Lanno flinched and jerked his head.

"Feel free to inventory that," said Vanlo. "As it is not what I need."

"Uh, sure," Lanno said absently. He peeked inside the bag, then re-tied it and plopped it among the other herbs.

Vanlo reached across his vision, took the bag that Lanno had put away, and once more dropped it before him. Lanno gave the elder Healer a blank look.

"Try again, if you would."

Lanno blinked in confusion, then looked into the bag again. He was about to put it back in the same place when he stopped and took a closer look. "Oh."

"Ah, you realize the error, hmm?"

"Um, yes. This is Rallasan. I thought it was ..." He paused and frowned. "Since when did you need Rallasan for your elixir?"

"I do not. But it is what you brought me earlier."

"No, I brought you Torrasan, like you ... oh."

Vanlo smiled gently. "Ah, you see the error now. Splendid."

Lanno sighed heavily. He put the herb where it was supposed to go and fetched another, which he handed to Vanlo. "Here, this is Torrasan," he said in irritation.

Vanlo accepted the bag. "Are you quite all right this morning, Lanno?"

Lanno was about to retort, but the genuine concern in Vanlo's voice made him pause. Finally he slapped his hand against the counter and turned more fully towards the elder Healer. "No, I'm not. Evella is stuck at Freya's Manor and the Overlord won't lift a finger to help her!"

"I had counseled against you going to his Lordship with this, I seem to recall."

"Yes, but since when do I listen to you?"

"Hmm, there is that. Hope springs eternal, however."

"Look, I know, I'm being stupid. Everyone thinks Evella is evil because of what she did for Freya, or that she should have stood up against her or something. She's just not that kind of girl in either case."

"I do not believe I ever expressed a negative opinion of her one way or the other, Lanno," said Vanlo. "I do wish she had exercised better judgment, but that is not a condemnation of her. I do hope she has an opportunity to get away from Overlord Freya. Certainly the Healers could use another that has studied the old art of chemistry."

Lanno decided it was best not to pursue the topic. "So how are things going with your potion? Have any luck?"

"If you refer to separating the memory and intelligence aspects, no, I have not. I fear it may be beyond my knowledge and capabilities."

Lanno's eyes widened. "So it's unlikely that you can come up with anything to use on Sirinna?"

"Not anytime soon, I am afraid."

"But what does this mean for the Draught itself? Does this mean you can't counter the intelligence degradation there?"

"This, too, is difficult, but less so. It appears to be easier to separate the effects when first applied. It will take some time. Now, I need to return to my experiments," said Vanlo as he turned away.

"Fine. I guess I'll have to think of something myself."

Vanlo turned back to face Lanno. "I would advise you against doing anything foolish, Lanno. I would remind you how it nearly got you into serious trouble the last time concerning the foreign merchant Jollis."

Lanno said nothing.

"I am quite serious in this. Consider carefully whatever actions you take. It is important that his Lordship maintain this ruse with Freya. This means that Evella must believe it as well."

"I know, I know!" Lanno threw up his hands in defeat and turned away.

Vanlo sighed. "I am sorry you are frustrated. If it helps any, it is likely that Freya will take Evella wherever she decides to go, and that she will go to a fellow Overlord. I promise at that time I will speak with his Lordship myself and see about getting Evella away from Freya."

Lanno considered for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Thank you."

Vanlo nodded as well and headed into the back room.

Lanno had indeed been planning to Farview Evella again. Vanlo was right. Anything he might say could disrupt Roquan's plans. But he felt he had to make sure that Evella was all right.

Doran was feeling stronger that morning, and far more amorous.

The Overlord wasted little time in pulling Amanda into bed with him. She complied quite willingly. She had started to grow fond of Doran. He was not quite the intimidating man she had thought.

Doran knew how to treat a slave properly. Now that some of his strength had returned, he took the time to draw out the foreplay. His touches were surprisingly light and sensual for someone of his apparent temperament. By the time he opened his robe and gently pulled her atop him, she was panting softly in excitement.

She impaled herself upon him and rode him smoothly. His hands gripped her waist, but again he did not attempt to force her to any rhythm. He let her set the pace and was not disappointed.

Amanda had managed to drive herself to an early climax. She shivered and moaned as her pussy throbbed around his manhood. She drove herself onward, her breath growing short as she rose a second time. His hands played with her breasts, tweaking the sensitive nipples until her pussy tried to throb in response.

She let out a long, low moan as she came a second time, her hips grinding against his. Doran shuddered and groaned loudly as his manhood pulsed deep inside her.

Both sated, Amanda slowly drew back until he fell from her sex. She took care to lick him clean before lying next to him.

"Draughtless or no, you are quite skilled, Amanda," Doran said, still a bit breathless.

"I was trained by Sirinna, Master," said Amanda. "She is very good."

"It is still simply extraordinary that you are this dedicated. Especially since you ... well ... the whole Draught thing, you know."

"Are you referring to the extra ingredient in it, Master?"

Doran paused. "What ingredient?" he asked warily.

"The one that increases sexual need, Master."

"Ah. So Roquan told you about that."

Amanda sensed the upset in Doran's voice. "Not really, Master. I mostly figured it out myself. He just confirmed it for me. But I've kept the secret for him."

Doran snorted. "Hrmph. We like to claim it's a big secret, all right, but I sincerely doubt that is the case anymore. But the point is that you were never given that ingredient."

"No, Master. I'm not addicted to sex like the other slaves are."

Amanda tried to keep her voice as neutral as she could, but it was difficult. If Doran had noticed the very slight tinge of hostility, he did not make note of it. "You do not seem to be forcing yourself to perform your duties, however."

"No, Master. I actually enjoy sex. I just like being able to think of something else when I want to."

"Remarkable."

Amanda lifted her head. "That I enjoy the sex or that I like to think of things other than sex?"

Doran stared at Amanda, and for a moment Amanda wondered if she had finally pushed things a little too far. Finally, Doran laughed. "You have a way of asking questions that are difficult to answer."

Amanda offered him a faint smile. She already felt like she had scored a victory of sorts. Doran was not treating her like any other slave. He hardly paid any mind to the other slaves that had been attending to him before Amanda had been assigned to him. They became little more than fixtures in the room when Doran did not actively require their services.

"I suppose a little of both. And now, before you go off on that other effect of the Draught, the one about intelligence, I can tell you that I honestly had no idea it was doing that!"

Amanda nodded. "I know. Master Vanlo already told me that Master Roquan was surprised when he learned about it." She paused and looked thoughtful.

Doran rolled his eyes. "Oh, now what? I am starting to recognize that look in your face. You have another startlingly difficult question. Out with it!"

"Would you keep using the Draught knowing this, Master?"

"Master Vanlo is working on correcting that."

"But he may not be able to separate the intelligence from the memory. So he may not be able to actually fix it. If that's the case, would you ...?"

"Stop right there, Amanda."

Amanda fell silent at once.

Doran let out a heavy sigh. "I am not at all sure we should discuss matters like this again. I seem to get painted into a corner each time."

Yet he would not lash out at her. Amanda felt she had given him ample opportunity. No threats of punishment. No telling her what her place was. No chastisement for speaking out of turn.

Amanda was excited. Even other Overlords were treating her less like a slave and more like a person. She doubted that he ever had conversations like this with a "normal" slave.

"I'm sorry, Master," said Amanda, thought there was a bright undertone to her voice.

Doran gave Amanda a suspicious look, as if he knew she had not been all that sincere in her apology. "Let me give you some advice. Change does not come easily to Oceanus. Witness the trouble we are having now, assuming Roquan is keeping you abreast of such things still."

"Yes, Master, he is."

"Roquan likes to think that this war will bring change. Well, it will bring change to who is seated upon the throne, but it will stop there! Once things have calmed down, everyone will be clamoring to return to business as usual."

"I guess I don't see how things could go back to that, Master."

"You would be surprised! Be careful, Amanda. Do not get your hopes up that there will be any significant change to the slave trade. Or your own status. Assuming that Roquan does not have, ah, too much trouble with the other Overlords over you, I predict you will be in high demand. Roquan will be hard-pressed not to contract you out again."

Amanda was not sure how to respond. She realized that Doran was glossing over the problem that Roquan faced concerning the other Overlords. Yet she could not imagine herself going back to being just another slave.

"Do you understand this, Amanda?" Doran asked, some exasperation evident in his voice.

"Yes, Master, I understand," said Amanda neutrally.

She simply did not want to spar with Doran further. She was afraid of hearing something that might dash her hopes. She had to trust that Doran was wrong in his assessment of the future, or of Roquan.

"Hrmph. I have my doubts, but I suppose it will suffice."

"May I draw a bath for you, Master?" Amanda asked.

"I would imagine I need one now, yes."

Amanda nodded and slid off the bed.

She had to believe that Doran was wrong. How could the other Overlords continue as they had once they know of the deleterious effects of the Draught? Or was she too idealistic? Should she give up these ideas and relegate herself to being a slave all her days and nothing more?

She let out a small sigh as she set about preparing Doran's bath.

The Full Moon Ball was an excessively formal affair that was run personally by the Urisi King. Norlan tended to avoid it. Even attired in his best finery, he looked out-of-place at such gatherings, and others tended to look on him with disdain, as if a peasant had somehow sneaked into the palace and stolen some decent clothing for himself.

But the King was intending to make Norlan suffer for as long as it took to make his final decision concerning the former Ambassador's fate, and thus made his attendance mandatory. The only ones privileged enough to avoid attending (or more precisely, the ones that could get away with ignoring it) were the Lords of the High Council.

Norlan stood by himself, nursing his goblet of wine. He was usually very good at networking, but not in venues like this. He felt quite uncomfortably stiff in his formal wear. No matter how many times the tailor had tried to adjust it earlier, it never quite fit him.

Norlan looked towards the far end of the room, where the King sat upon a small throne atop a low dais. Several advisers and High Ministers were tightly knit in a circle around him. He could guess that they were still debating about what to do with Oceanus.

A spate of high-pitched feminine laughter caught his attention.

He slid his gaze to the left. There was Mandas, looking quite dapper and confident. No fewer than three elegantly dressed ladies were in attendance, none of whom was his wife.

Mandas glanced up and saw Norlan. A wicked smile came to his lips. He leaned in and spoke to the three ladies. They leaned in as well, as if he were speaking in conspiratorial tones. Occasionally Mandas pointed towards Norlan.

Finally, the three ladies all looked at Norlan in unison, and burst out giggling hysterically a heartbeat later. Norlan simply smiled and raised his goblet, giving Mandas a polite nod of his head. The ladies giggled all the more.

A moment later, the musicians returned to the small stage near the throne. Norlan witnessed a verbal scuffle among the three ladies. Mandas strolled into the center, beaming, and took one of the ladies' hands. The other two cast dirty looks at the chosen one as Mandas led her to the dance.

If you want to associate with silly cunts like that, Mandas, that is your business, Norlan thought as he took a drink. But don't expect me to react to it.

"I take it that peasants are not taught much about dancing," said a droll voice near Norlan's ear.

The former Ambassador turned. A gaunt older gentleman cast a small, sardonic smile, his lean body arrayed in silks and a cloak of deep purple.

"We are," drawled Norlan. "But our dancing style tends to be more lively than this. It would give the court far too much of a shock." He smiled and bowed. "Good evening to you, High Lord Ardon."

Ardon bowed his head in return. His eyes flicked over the dancers in the center of the room. "This is not exactly your sort of venue, is it?"

"Neither is it yours, my Lord," said Norlan. "I thought the Council tended to avoid such things, lest they be contaminated by His Majesty's politics."

Ardon smiled tightly. "Ah, still as silver-tongued as always, my dear Ambassador. One of these days, I swear you will open your mouth and we will see that it is forked as well."

"Former Ambassador, I am afraid."

Ardon smiled theatrically, and folded his hands before him. "The King is working fast, is he not?"

"He believes he knows the mind of the Council already."

Ardon sensed the inquisitive tone in Norlan's voice. "It is unfortunate that he may be right in this matter. The, ah, treaty you forged was read into the record earlier today at the Council meeting."

High Lord Ardon was Norlan's most staunch supporter on the Council. His appearance at this ball could not be good news. "I see," said Norlan neutrally.

"From the way the King spoke of you while you were gone, one would think you could move mountains, part mighty rivers with a wave of your hand, and summon a bevy of Faeries singing your praises in sweet, enchanting chorus."

"One would hope the High Lords saw through such claptrap."

"One would hope, yes. One would be a fool to take platinum on it, however."

Norlan was contemplating his response when he heard a woman's yelp. He turned in time to see Mandas and his dance partner stumble. From the angry glare and the way she limped a bit as they resumed dancing, it was clear that Mandas had just stepped on her foot.

As they danced away, Norlan understood why. Mandas kept glancing suspiciously in his direction. Norlan flashed Mandas a wide, beaming smile. Mandas prompted stepped on the lady's other foot.

Norlan turned back to High Lord Ardon. "All I can say, my Lord, is that it is a fair treaty, as good a one as I could have achieved given who I was dealing with."

"Oh, we know all with whom you dealt. In the initial deliberations, it was not quite decided who the Council purportedly hates more, you or Overlord Roquan D'ronstaq."

Norlan smiled. "Well, I am even with Roquan. That alone is good news."

Ardon sighed. "Really, Norlan, there is nothing amusing about this. You know I have been your advocate from the start, but I cannot tread too heavily here."

He glanced past Norlan towards the King. The sovereign had looked up from his conversation and was eying the High Lord with disdain and suspicion. Ardon lowered his voice when he next spoke to Norlan and leaned close.

"Power has always been balanced between the Council and the King. Now the King is in the ascendant. The Lords may wish to take a side against you if they see it being against the King as well."

"And what do you believe, my Lord?"

Adron frowned. "Do not ask me such things."

"Because you are afraid you will need to answer it?"

"That was uncalled for."

Norlan finished the rest of his wine in one go. He gestured towards a server and placed the empty goblet upon his tray. He shook his head when offered a second. "My Lord, nothing of what has happened of late has been called for by any means. What's a little more? And if I am on my way out, High Lord, I might as well ..."

Norlan suddenly paused. It couldn't be. Not now. Not after all this time.

High Lord Ardon folded his arms. "Yes? Might as well what?"

Norlan smiled. "Never mind, my Lord. You are right. I was out of line. Too much wine, too much stress, and too little rest. In fact, I believe I have stayed long enough to fulfill my obligation to the King and will retire. Good evening to you."

Norlan bowed and quickly headed out, leaving a surprised High Lord in his wake, and a fellow Ambassador who once more stumbled on his partner's feet.

Norlan departed the ballroom and tore through the wide hall beyond. The guards barely had time to bow their heads in respect before he was already gone. He was huffing by the time he entered an unoccupied parlor. He closed the doors and latched them. "I accept the summons."

An image of a lean, dark-haired young man hovered before him.

Norlan slowly smiled. "Do I have the pleasure of speaking to the merchant named Jollis himself?"

The young man smiled. "I am many things, Lord Ambassador. Merchant. Dealer. Agent. Revolutionary. But I am best known as the Wanderer."

Norlan raised an eyebrow. "Revolutionary, you say? There are some to whom such an admission would be considered treason."

"Ah, but you do have a talent for focusing quite tightly on the element that suits you, do you not?"

"It was you who said it, not me. Well met, Jollis the Wanderer."

Jollis bowed his head.

"But what I did not hear you mention in your many roles was emissary," said Norlan.

"That is because that is not precisely my role. Or at least, it was not intended as such. I have been thrust into the role by circumstance. Thus I will fulfill it to the best of my ability. Such is the lot of a Wanderer."

"So your title is one that wanders in your place in the scheme of things rather than one that wanders the countryside. Quite intriguing. I don't recall such a thing from any of the cultures I have encountered."

"Your reputation for your ability to verbally spar with your opponent is quite well known," said Jollis. "So I will dispense with it in the interests of time. I am an agent of the Inonni, the lands to Oceanus' Far West. Or your Distant East. My purpose here is to prepare Oceanus for Enlightenment."

The former Ambassador considered. "That can mean many things," he said neutrally.

"We seek a change to the Oceanus culture. It is stagnant, and is in need of revitalization. We, the Inonni, intend to provide that."

Norlan smiled. "I have heard plans of conquest worded in many different ways over the years, Jollis, but that is a new one. Well done. It is quite creative."

"It is not mere words, Ambassador. It is truth. This is my grand purpose, to prepare for this transformation."

"And it just happens to involve destabilizing the present government?"

"We regret the means by which we bring about this change."

Norlan was rather stunned. He had not expected such an open admission of Jollis' plans. "You do realize, Wanderer, that the Urisi may have some objections to seeing Oceanus conquered in this manner."

"Yes, this was foreseen. Thus I am contacting you. I have the means to assuage your government and forestall any interference."

Norlan was not sure what to think. On the one hand, just having this information might save him from the worst of the political fallout. At the same time, however, it would cause abject panic. The Urisi would be forced into siding with Oceanus in what might become a nasty war that the Urisi were ill-equipped to fight. Until now, there was no need for anything more than a small standing army. The Oceanus navy to the west was their bulwark against threats from abroad.

"I will admit, Jollis, whatever your offer is, it will need to be rather generous," said Norlan. "His Majesty already does not care for the instability in Oceanus at the moment."

"Here is my offer, Ambassador," began Jollis. "First: The Inonni will maintain the same peaceful relations with the Urisi. Second: The Inonni will maintain the Oceanus navy for protection of commerce and general security. Third: we will maintain fair and equitable trade, save for one item. And that item is covered in my fourth point, which is this ..."

Norlan listened. By the time Jollis was finished, he was almost too stunned to speak.

"Do you believe that will be enough to placate your High Lord Council?" asked Jollis with a small smile.

Norlan's mind was still reeling. It was incredible. He was not even sure the Inonni could do it. He did note something interesting. Jollis had specifically pointed to the Council and not the King. It was as if he were already aware of the political struggles in Urisi and where Norlan fit into it.

"I cannot make a decision of this magnitude myself, Jollis," Norlan finally spoke.

"What you have heard is the complete scope of my offer. It will not change. The reality, Ambassador, is that nothing the Urisi can do can change what will be. Is it not better that the Urisi profit from it?"

If the fourth offer had been presented to the Council shorn of everything else, the effect would have been electric. It would be a boon to them and their relationships with the lesser Lords and Nobility. The King would virtually become a figurehead once the political drama had waned. Norlan would be on top once more, in far more favor than he had ever enjoyed.

And he had a chance to gain what Roquan had denied him.

"I must contact someone from the High Council," said Norlan.

"I would strongly suggest it be someone you can trust. It is better that this offer not spread too far and wide."

"Yes, of course."

"May I contact you again, say, in three days? Do you believe you would have an answer by then?"

"That is not much time, but I will try."

Jollis smiled. "Excellent. Until then, Lord Ambassador."

The Wanderer bowed. His image flickered out.

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