Chapter 20

The sun rose bright and clear, its rays topping the hills that surrounded the road to Talrad Pass. Men roused from their slumber before twilight barely touched the skies now marched with uniform precision, a giant snake winding among the shadows of the hills.

The land rose, and the shouts from lookouts echoed down the line.

Swords were drawn. Crossbows were drawn back. Catapults and siege weapons were loaded for bear. The sounds of sliding metal and straining wood was returned in kind by the defenders who now advanced from their positions with a roar of men short on experience but long on spirit.

And in this crucial pass, the armies clashed in chaos and blood.

"This is madness," said the first Cohort. "Why Talrad Pass? It is too easily defensible."

"It matters not to the Imperial legions," said the second Cohort. "They have strength in numbers. They will overcome whatever defense Appalanchian soldiers have organized."

"But at such losses! It makes little sense for what they would wish to gain from this incursion."

"It should be clear to you by now that their goals have changed. Or have you forgotten about the escaped Master Agent?"

"But his only escape was through the mines. No one could make it through there."

"You underestimate the skills of the enemy at our peril, my friend."

"But listen to your own words! If Talrad Pass falls, there is nothing to prevent the legions from advancing..."

"Stop," said the Wanderer.

The Cohort fell silent. Both turned to their Master. "My apologies, Master," said the first.

"And I as well, for encouraging him," said the second.

Jollis nodded and sighed. Suddenly the walls of his quarters in the D'yoran Manor that had served him so well felt too confining. "Does the Overlord know of this development?"

"We have not informed him, Wanderer, and have instructed the others not to," said the first Cohort.

"But he is bound to learn sooner or later through other channels, Master," said the second. "Surely the other Overlords already know."

Jollis was at a complete loss. It was obvious that the Emperor considered him such a grave threat that he would stop at nothing to eliminate it. Jollis did not understand why. The Emperor would have no direct proof that Jollis was any more than he appeared, a skilled infiltrator, but ultimately only one man.

He felt a sense of familiarity. He had encountered a situation like this before. Somewhere lay a missing piece of the puzzle that would unmask the motivation behind the Emperor's thoughts.

"Wanderer, is it not possible that we are misinterpreting what we are seeing?" asked the second Cohort. "Perhaps the Emperor has another goal in mind and will bypass the Manor?"

"We cannot take that chance," said Jollis. "We must assume the worst, that the Emperor is coming for the Manor. And for me."

"The Cohorts will protect you, Master," said the first.

Jollis shook his head. "No, I have another task for you."

The two exchanged a look. "Wanderer, should not our place be here in case... ?"

"The threat to me lies south. I will be safe until it comes closer."

"And what then?"

The Wanderer considered very carefully. "And then ... I will leave."

"But the task... !"

"It will be completed another way. But I need time to think and to plan. Buy me that time. Join with the other Cohorts and disrupt the Imperial line of battle in some way. Leave me the ones at Freya's Manor, but take the others with you. Use a Portal to get there quickly. Delay the inevitable fall of the Appalanchian defenders."

The Cohorts bowed reverently as one. "We will do your will, Master," said the first.

"And give our lives if necessary," said the second.

Jollis waved a hand and dismissed them. The Cohorts left.

He remained quiet and still. He was finally out of time and bereft of any new solutions. He was facing complete failure for the first time. It was a struggle to retain his composure. It was all too easy to simply accept defeat, head back through the Portal to home, and submit himself for punishment and humiliation.

Jollis called upon all his remaining discipline to push away these thoughts. It was difficult, but slowly his mind cleared and focused. Now he needed something upon which to focus it.

A new approach is required, Jollis thought.

It was a start. It was an acknowledgment that none of his old thinking would prevail. It freed himself to examine any possibility, no matter how remote, no matter how radical.

And only fate would decide if he had enough time.

The Farview visage of the Noble Lord shimmered, partially from the weakness of the image itself and partially from the shaking of the one whose image it conveyed. By contrast, Lord Uras was a bastion of calm and resolve as he cast a stern look at the younger Lord.

"Can you spare any more men at all, Lord Werris?" boomed Uras in the old chamber in the Carolas Palace.

Lord Werris K'ollon of North Appalanchia wrung his hands. "I have provided all I can, Lord Uras! My advisers fear that we would leave ourselves defenseless if we send any more..."

"Blast your advisers, Werris! You rule Appalanchia, not them!"

"North Appalanchia, Lord Uras, please."

Uras waved a hand in annoyed dismissal. "Two of the other Appalanchian Lords have chosen to command their legions personally. The other is too weak for me to even dignify him with the title of 'Lord.'"

From the table, both Duric and Tarras looked up from the maps they were poring over and exchanged a look. That had been a rare insult from Uras, reserved only for those for which he truly held nothing but contempt.

"That leaves you, Werris. And I am sure you do not wish history to record that you failed to have a backbone at a critical time. But then again, the history scrolls will make no mention of it because we will have lost and the victor is the one who dictates how those scrolls are written!"

Uras' voice rose to a bellow. Duric winced and looked at the older Lord. "With all due respect, Lord Uras, they will hardly get there in time to stop a breach at Talrad Pass."

Tarras leaned back. "I do not hold out much hope that the meager forces there now will hold more than a few days."

"Lord Uras, we were promised more soldiers," Werris said. "To be delivered by Overlord Portal. Where are they? If ever they were needed, it is now!"

Uras glowered. "The Overlords have balked on that arrangement, that traitorous lot of..."

"Lord Uras, please," said Tarras. "Let us not go there again."

"And why not? They are reneging on the agreement at the final candlemark!"

"I have explained why, Uras. Several times."

Uras threw up his hands. "Yes, yes, yes, some nonsense about Overlord politics and other rot."

"Uras, I think you're getting too worked up over this," said Duric. "The Emperor is a fool for advancing through that pass. Sure, he'll get a clean run up north once he gets past it, but there's hardly anything there but Overlord Manors and peasant farms."

"But what of beyond that?" Uras demanded. "If he has clear run, he will be able to strike at the northern approaches!"

"Exactly why my advisers wish to keep our soldiers here, Lord Uras," said Werris in a pleading tone. "We cannot raise many more. We have nearly every able-bodied man under arms, and I had to do that through conscription!"

Tarras frowned. "I am not sure that was wise."

"Why not?" demanded Uras.

"What have I been saying all along? Men's heart and spirit decide a war. You wish soldiers to have some belief in their cause rather than simply earning some platinum each moon."

"At this point, I will take what I can get! With all your talk about hearts and minds, you seem to forget that sometimes all an army needs is a bunch of men with sharp weapons and a chance to swing them at something."

Tarras sighed and exchanged a look with Duric. The younger Lord simply shrugged in resignation.

Uras turned to Werris. "Fine. Keep your soldiers where they are. I will attempt to wrangle the Overlords into coming through for us. Now go away."

Without waiting for a response, Uras waved his hand and terminated the Farview. He snatched the pearl from the floor, wrinkling his noise as if he had touched something disgusting.

"Lord Uras, you should instead see this as an opportunity," said Tarras.

"Eh? How's that?" Uras asked in irritation as he came to the table and looked over the maps.

"The Emperor is making a mistake. He is expending supplies that he cannot replenish quickly enough, even with a signed trade agreement with the Urisi. It will take time for the first goods to arrive in Imperial lands."

"Bottom line, Tarras! Is he weak? Can we strike now?"

"Not yet," Duric spoke up. "They have committed fewer legions to this thrust than we thought they would use in their original plan. So we wait."

Uras frowned. "We are not going to abandon Appalanchia like you originally wanted to do!"

Duric was already shaking his head. "I'm not. Hear me out. Eventually they will need to send reinforcements. The defenders at Talrad Pass will wear them down a bit."

"So you assume!"

"Yes, so he assumes," said Tarras. "But that is the only option we have now. Lord Uras, we will have exactly one opportunity to get this right and prevent a bloody war of attrition."

"If one more legion leaves the Imperial territories, that will give us a chance," said Duric. "That will make our army on par with theirs at least from a position of men and arms."

"And how is that not a battle of attrition already?" Uras cried. He waved his hands just as Tarras was about to speak. "I know! I know! Hearts of men!"

"Yes," Tarras said. "And a better supply line."

"If we don't wait too long, you mean. Otherwise the Urisi will be supplying him."

"Timing will be critical, yes, I agree. Duric and I are monitoring things very closely."

Uras glowered. "Those insufferable Urisi! Why do they choose sides now? They showed every indication of wishing to stay out of this war."

"I have to admit, that confused me as well," Duric said.

Uras stepped forward and banged his fist on the table. "The Urisi will not have any influence in a post-Z'haas government! I will not stand for it!"

"They hardly need it," said Tarras. "We've given them no reason to wish to exert any sort of control over Oceanus. We trade freely and fairly with them. We protect their ships and shores from pirates. Neither has border claims that are in dispute. Our spheres of influence do not overlap. There could not be a better arrangement anywhere on Narlass."

"Then explain to me why now, if not to tip that balance in their favor?"

Tarras was silent for a moment. He shook his head. "I do not know. I admit, this disturbs me somewhat."

Uras shook his head and waved an arm. "No, we will not tarry. There is no need for discussion. The next Emperor will simply put things back the way they were, and that will be it."

Duric raised an eyebrow. He exchanged a look with Tarras. A tiny smile tugged at Tarras' lips. Duric frowned and looked to Lord Uras, stating in a clear, loud voice, "Surely that will be your priority then, Lord Uras, when you assume the throne."

Uras spun around, looking quite taken aback. "Me? Take the throne? You must be mad."

Duric's jaw tightened. "Surely you are the most natural choice. You are the elder statesman of the Noble Lords. You are the most experienced. No one would dispute your claim."

"Except for the simple fact you overlook: I do not want it."

Duric stood in stony silence.

"I am too old, Duric. The Emperor needs to be a younger man this time, someone that will restore and maintain stability for a long time." He paused, and glanced at Tarras. Duric noticed this and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Now, enough of this nonsense. I have other matters to attend to. Good day."

"Good day," both Tarras and Duric said in turn.

After Uras had left, Duric turned to Tarras. "You talked to him about it, didn't you?"

"Oh, I may have mentioned something in passing about the idea of you as Emperor, yes."

"And?"

"He thought I was a loon."

Duric smirked.

"Until I explained it to him, that is. Now he sees the merits of it."

Duric's smile faded.

"Lord Uras is affected by the same thing that affects all older men, a resistance to a younger mindset. But even he can listen to reason."

"And what of the other Lords? Do any of them want the position?"

"Oh, I am sure every one down to the last man wishes to sit upon that throne. Which is precisely why it should be denied them." He turned towards Duric. "I will make my last and final plea. Take the throne, Duric. Be a reluctant Emperor. Avoid sitting upon the throne if you must. Refuse the trappings of Imperial majesty if you wish. But lead us. Lead Oceanus. Make it whole again."

Duric remained silent.

"You wish further encouragement?" asked Tarras. "Speak with Roquan on the matter."

Duric laughed humorlessly. "A Noble Lord requesting of an Overlord who the next Emperor should be? That is indeed amusing."

"Nothing amusing about it, Duric. He is a friend of yours, and you value his opinion. That is what a good leader does, he seeks the counsel of others before making an important decision." Tarras slowly smiled. "And it seems I have succeeded in making you consider that decision. Thus my work is done, and you will hear no more about it. Good day to you, Lord Duric."

"Good day, Lord Tarras," said Duric.

He watched the other Noble Lord go. When he was gone, Duric cracked a small smile.

"You're a real bastard sometimes, Lord Tarras," he said softly.

Q'yros was wheezing by the time he reached the workshop chamber where he was to meet Uroddus. The younger Mage had only just arrived himself, and turned in surprise when Q'yros staggered in. The elder Mage leaned on his staff heavily, and then nearly tumbled to the floor when the tip of his staff slid.

Uroddus rushed to him. "Master Q'yros, are you quite all right? Shall I summon... ?"

"Slaves," Q'yros croaked.

Uroddus paused. "I beg your pardon?"

Q'yros took a moment to catch his breath. He lowered himself shakily into a seat. It seemed that every day he had less energy, as if his advanced age were catching up to him again despite having husbanded his magical power.

Ancient wizards such as he could compensate for advanced age by keeping a store of magical energy in their bodies. But it meant refraining from any large feats of magic to allow a "charge" to build. Q'yros had not done any serious magic for the past half-moon, but his endurance continued to ebb regardless.

"Are you sure you are... ?" Uroddus began again.

Q'yros waved him off. "Slaves, Q'garra. That is what we did not think of!"

The Journeyman adjusted his spectacles. "I do not understand."

"Think for a minute! You know of the slave trade, do you not?"

"Well, yes. Not that I necessarily approve of it, but..."

"I was not asking for your political stance on it, blast it! You know how it works?"

"Approximately. High-born men called Overlords own large plots of land where they maintain and train young women as slaves. They are then sold to Noble Lords for their pleasure."

"Almost right," said Q'yros. "First off, they are not all men. One Overlord is female, much to my chagrin. Second, they do not sell the slaves, only contract them. It's a service industry in Oceanus, not a commodity market. Third, there are male slaves, though not as much call for them."

"Be that as it may, Master Q'yros, what relevance does it have to anything? Or are we back to your theory about Portals being used as the main instrument of invasion?"

"We never left it," Q'yros declared, rising from his chair. He staggered a bit before drawing upright. He batted his staff against Uroddus' hand when the younger Mage tried to reach out to him. "Now, think. Where would slaves spend most of their time outside an Overlord Manor?"

Uroddus rubbed his hand and looked thoughtful. "I suppose they would be inside the Noble Lord's palace much of the time."

"Yes, exactly. The slaves of the Overlords would, taken collectively, have intimate knowledge of every single Palace they have ever resided."

"But are we not back to the original problem? They would still need to be captured in order to provide the coordinates for the Portal from their memories. Whether they be at a Palace or a Manor, it would be difficult to do such a thing and not generate a great deal of attention."

"Unless something has happened, and we simply do not know about it," said Q'yros. "The Overlords are maddeningly insular. More so, sometimes, than our present Guildmaster. They rarely discuss Overlord matters with others, even the Noble Lords. It is not seen as proper."

Uroddus slipped off his spectacles and tapped them against his chin. "Then it would behoove us to contact the Overlords at once."

Q'yros smiled. "Oh, so do you finally concede the point? It took you long enough."

"I concede a possibility," corrected Uroddus. "Any Empiricist will tell you that it is foolish to disregard new information when it is available. We should pursue it."

Q'yros' hands tightened about his staff. "Fine. We must speak with Guildmaster Q'ixanna, then," he said in a stiff voice.

Uroddus frowned. "Do we really need to go through him, Master Q'yros?"

"Anything related to these Portals must be cleared by him, unfortunately."

"Very well. Considering how important it is to eliminate this possibility from consideration if possible, surely he will be reasonable and allow us to make contact."

Q'yros clenched his teeth to hold back a tart retort.

The dapper elder Overlord stood sedately by the entrance to the opulent training chamber, his hands folded sedately before him. He observed the sexual abandon before him with perfect equanimity befitting one of his experience. His eye roamed over the girls not with lust but with critical assessment, as he would do when reviewing his own slaves.

There were five. Too many in one group with only one Trainer was his immediate criticism. Two were upon their backs, receiving the manhoods of two male slaves. One serviced another male slave with her mouth. The remaining two were entwined in mutual oral pleasure.

Too much variety at once was his second thought. They would learn hardly any sort of finesse like this. There was too much lust and not enough education. It was very clear to him that all five were recent acquisitions. Their youth and clumsiness was quite evident. This would eventually overtax the Trainer.

Behind him came the beat of feet on wood, and the huffing of quickened breath. He turned.

"Overlord Trennan," said a winded Freya. "This is unexpected ... an unexpected pleasure."

Trennan smiled tightly and bowed his head respectfully. "I do hope I did not catch you at a bad time."

"Ah, not at all, Trennan," said Freya. She smiled and tugged her dress down around her thighs, smoothing it out with a few quick swipes. "But I did not know you were here until you sent one of my slaves to fetch me. My guards did not inform me that you arrived at the gate."

"I came by Portal, Freya," said Trennan as he stepped away from the door and into the sunlight. "You still had yours partially energized. I simply used it as a focus. Please forgive the breach of protocol, but I felt it best that I speak with you in person."

Freya controlled her annoyance. "Oh? Has there been some development I ought to be aware of?"

Trennan's jaw clenched. "Several, though I doubt I need to tell you of one of them."

Freya caught the hint of disdain in his voice. She gave him a sly smile. "Yes, I know of the successful conclusion of the treaty. I am sorry if I offend your sensibilities because I continue to eavesdrop on Roquan."

Trennan waved a hand in dismissal. "I will not belabor the point. You know my feelings and we will leave it at that."

"Yes, of course. We have something more important to consider, such as Roquan's crimes."

Trennan paused. He clasped his hands behind him and glanced towards the Training Chamber for a moment. "That is the other thing I need to discuss."

Some of Freya's smile faded. "I do hope it is to begin arranging for a Conclave, Trennan."

There was a long pause. "Not exactly."

Freya's lips drew almost into a pout before she caught herself. "I thought the agreement was to wait until after the treaty was signed, then arrange..."

"No agreement was ever entered into, Freya, by any stretch of the imagination," Trennan said in irritation. "What I agreed to was the concept that it would be prudent to wait, not that we would jump into action the moment the ink was dry."

"And why not? Roquan's transgressions demand speedy retribution. Unless you have been swayed by his empty arguments like so many were at the Conclave."

"I will not have you implying that I am either duplicitous or stupid, Freya. Stop that right now."

Freya paused, then forced a small smile and bowed her head. "Apologies."

Trennan sighed. "These are difficult times, Freya. I assume you can see the danger that lies virtually at your doorstep?"

Freya rolled her eyes. "Surely you do not mean the incursion near Talrad Pass?"

Trennan narrowed his eyes. "How you can treat it with such flippancy is beyond me. There is little between you and that Pass."

"On the contrary, there is a whole forest between the Pass and my Manor. Anyone wishing to strike at my Manor would first need to move north, through the D'yoran Manor, and then take the long, winding west road to me. The old road through the forest is too overgrown for entire legions to traverse." Freya grinned. "And I doubt I am the target of the Emperor's wrath. I suspect it is Gronnus, for some badly considered dealings with Z'haas."

"If those rumors are true."

Freya chuckled throatily. "Let's just say I have some insider information."

She relished the thought of Gronnus' Manor being overrun by Imperial troops. The sheer travesty of such a move mattered not. It meant Jollis would have to come to her alone for more slaves, which meant twice as much platinum coming in, if not more.

"Please, do not elaborate on your methods further," said Trennan. "The point is, Freya, that calling a Conclave now may be counterproductive until we see the result of the Imperial campaign. It might be seen as a threat to the Emperor, and if the Overlords are to seek rapprochement with Z'haas..."

"Yes, all right, I understand," she said in annoyance. "But we cannot wait forever. We cannot let Roquan get away with what he has done."

"I can assure you that we will not. But I refuse to rush into something so monumental. We have not deposed an Overlord for nearly a century. We should not be so quick to celebrate breaking that streak."

But Freya wished to do exactly that. She wished to shout and dance with glee that she had finally backed Roquan into a corner, that she had finally destroyed his aura of infallibility. "Yes, I see your point. Is there anything else?"

"On such ... weighty matters, no." He paused. "I see you have begun acquiring new slaves."

Freya smiled. "Yes, I have, in anticipation of the new trade treaty with the Urisi. It seemed prudent. If I had known you were coming, Trennan, I would have arranged for a proper Presenting."

"You appear to be hedging your bets, as it were."

Freya tilted her head. "Come again?"

"Five. Quite the number to acquire at once. That would tax the resources of even the best of us."

Freya applied all her willpower not to sneer. She assumed he was secretly comparing her to Roquan. Even now, there were those still in awe at his supposed prowess with Training slaves.

Freya smiled tightly. "It is a bit of a short term risk, yes, but I am hoping for far greater long term gains."

"The sheer amount of power that you drew for your Portal to open to so many worlds must have been prodigious. Yet your Portal device shows no sign of stress. I am most impressed with whoever keeps it in tune."

"Nothing but the best for my Manor, Trennan. Is that not what all Overlords wish?"

Trennan simply nodded once. "I will take my leave of you then, Freya, and allow you to go about your business."

"Are you sure you would not wish to stay, and allow me the honor of powering my Portal fully for your trip home?"

"Thank you, but no," he said politely.

"Surely you have not waited long enough for a full power-cycle of your Portal."

"No, but I wish to spend some time in the village before I leave."

Freya looked surprised and a bit wary. "May I ask why?"

"I wish to catch some merchants from the clan that will be visiting my Manor in a quarter-moon. I neglected to mention a few things I needed to their runner a few days ago."

"Ah, of course. If you check with the guards at the gate, they can provide you a carriage."

"Thank you. Now I must head out so that I can make it back before dark. Good day to you, Freya."

"Good day, Trennan."

"Master Q'yros, I have the figures from the latest foreign Portals that were detected within the last quarter moon," said Uroddus as he walked into the elder Mage's study. "We have been fortunate to witness this rise in Portal activity. It has allowed me to refine my formulae and allow me to detect the presence of human thought in the..."

Q'yros suddenly jabbed his staff towards the younger Mage. "Did you read the scrolls I referred you to, Q'garra?"

Uroddus paused. "Yes, I did. Very enlightening, to say the least."

"So you now have a better understanding on how the Nobility hierarchy and governing operates?"

"Yes, though I fail to see the relevance to our more critical research."

Q'yros turned away and swept his staff before him. "I need you looking at the bigger picture. I need you to incorporate the way the world really works into your relentless calculations. Assign numbers to that knowledge, Q'garra, and include them in your reckoning."

"For what purpose, Master Q'yros? Do you continue to hold to the theory that these Portals will be used to conquer Oceanus?"

"I have every right to be worried about it! You speak of Portals that can be sent past wards, that require no one already on the inside. One of the first things that many guards at the gates of Noble Palaces do to visitors is require them to declare all the pearls they have with them."

"But did I not state the effort that would be involved?" asked Uroddus patiently. He adjusted his spectacles. "Unless you have new information to which I am not privy."

Q'yros waved a hand in dismissal. "I have contacted a few Noble Lords that I am still on decent terms with, at least the ones that have not been tainted by Roquan's invective against me. They report nothing unusual of late at their Palaces."

"No kidnappings or people otherwise gone missing?"

"No. Nothing."

"That would tend to support my argument," said Uroddus as delicately as he could.

"And you have no further insights yourself?"

"I had not framed my reading of the scrolls in that light."

"Do so now! Is there anything that you read that would even hint of the possibility I suggest?"

Uroddus was growing weary of these attempts to shore up a hypothesis that had no shred of proof, but knew that Q'yros would not let go. "The typical Noble Court consists of the Noble Lord, his immediate advisers, their immediate support staff, and the guards that protect the lot," intoned Uroddus. "That would be the inner circle and the most likely targets, as they would have intimate knowledge of places very close to the Noble Lord, including the throne room and his private chambers.

"From there, the viability of a kidnapping producing something useful falls off dramatically. Once you get outside of the guards loyal to the Noble Lord, you have the serving staff, various clerical positions, perhaps an outer perimeter defense or patrolling guards. Then you have the peasants just outside the Palace. From there your chances are practically nil."

"And what about outsiders?" Q'yros asked.

"Outsiders would consist largely of merchants, couriers, ambassadors, and other visiting Nobility. Now, I suppose it is possible that some of the merchants kidnapped had knowledge of the inside of some Palaces, but it would hardly be enough to cover a significant portion of Oceanus. Also consider that merchants do not spend much time in any given area. All indications are that for the thought imprint to work properly, it has to be a strong one, built up over time by a continuous presence at the desired location."

"And is that it? Nothing else?"

"Nothing else, Master Q'yros. I believe we have exhausted this line of thinking."