Chapter 26

Gronnus tried to reach Overlord Weton early in the morning just at dawn, but he overslept. In his worries over the very deal he was trying to save, he tossed and turned for a good part of the night. When he finally did fall into slumber, he was exhausted, and thus it was not until the sun had just risen above the horizon that he roused himself out of bed.

By the time he reached Weton's quarters, the Overlord was already up and about, and no sooner had Gronnus left the area when he saw the man walking side by side with Roquan. Weton was talking in quite the animated fashion, obviously excited about something.

Gronnus moved off to the side as they approached, trying to appear as if he were more interested in the nearby gardens. He stole a glance at Roquan's face. There was a very small smile on his lips despite the fact that his eyes held a subdued look.

Weton's voice came to him as Gronnus started down the side path towards the gardens.

"... should make fine work of those materials, Roquan, if the rest is as exquisite as what you showed me this morning!"

"Rest assured, Weton, that is only a small sample," said Roquan, confidence in his voice despite the slightly somber tone to it. "My contacts assure me that they can deliver the rest in due time."

"Absolutely amazing. I never knew you had such connections! Surely, I cannot turn down such a..."

They drifted far enough away for further words to become unintelligible.

Gronnus sighed. Another deal lost. He was too tired and worried to be angry.

He glanced towards the path when movement caught his eye. He watched as Amanda was led by Sirinna towards Roquan's quarters. He frowned. Was the infernal Overlord going to Present her yet again? Even when he was going to have to give her up to Freya? It's not like he needed to soften up the other Overlords, not with the goods that he was able to offer them!

Gronnus ran a hand through his hair. He could not lose any more. He was at his limit. At this rate, assuming that any Overlord he did not deal with personally could be won for Roquan's side, this made Freya the swing vote. If Gronnus lost any more support, not even Freya could help him.

And that would lose him the Conclave. But what he feared most was what it would lose him with the Emperor.

There was another at the Manor who also rose late.

When Vanlo finally awoke, it took him a few moments to orient himself. His head felt full of fuzz, like the last time he had indulged in some of Roquan's wine to his detriment (and hence was the last time he did such a thing).

The first time he tried to move, pain lanced through his temples and made him weak and lightheaded. He raised a shaking hand to his forehead and tried to steady his breathing until it passed. The next time he tried, the pain returned, but not as sharp, and he was able to sit up.

Everything swam in and out of focus for a few moments. Normally when he awoke, all he had to deal with was his stiffened joints. Now he barely felt it with the miasma that seemed to surround his mind.

Slowly, everything returned to normal, save for a lingering dull ache encapsulating his skull. There was also a slight tremble to his normally rock-steady hands.

Vanlo swung his legs over the side and felt a brief onset of vertigo as he stood. He held onto the bed until it passed. He took a few more deep breaths, and it seemed to help. Now he felt only the normal stiffness and creaking of his aging body.

It was then that he looked outside and saw the bright sunlight.

"Oh, good heavens," he said softly.

Vanlo quickly dressed himself, or at least as quickly as his age would allow. The lingering headache threatened to balloon if he tilted his head just right.

The Healer was most disturbed at this. He had never overslept in all his time at the Manor. No matter how tired he might be from the night before, he rose with the dawn every day. The fact that he had not was very troubling to him.

For a moment during his morning ablutions, he paused, lifting his head, and sniffing the air. Very briefly, he thought he had smelled something familiar...

He shook his head. He looked back at himself in the mirror over the basin. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, and there were bags under them. Had he been a patient of his, he would have told the man to stay in his quarters and rest.

Yet the Manor needed him, and he could not afford to take a day off. Not while the Conclave was still in progress. He simply had to hope to have some time later to ponder what might have happened to him.

His first guess was an allergen. Perhaps an Overlord or the merchants had tracked in something to which he was sensitive. Surely that was the most logical explanation.

He slipped on his Healer robes and briskly walked out into the morning sunlight.

"We cannot lose these two, today, Berin!" Gronnus declared.

Berin sighed, his hand lifted before his face. "I do realize this, my dear Gronnus, but..."

"No excuses! I don't want to hear of it! Promise him more goods than you have procured if you have to!"

"More than I have?? Now, see here, Gronnus, I..."

"Berin, you're the one with the contacts! If anyone can squeeze more out of them, it's you!"

Berin sighed. His eyes had squinted to narrow slits despite trying to shade them. "They have already brought me more than they dare! And my contacts at the Imperium say things are not boding well..."

"To blazing hells with the Imperium! We need to take chances here, Berin! We can't afford to just rest on our laurels!"

"I'm not suggesting that, I... oh for the love of the gods, Gronnus, lower that shade!"

"What? Oh, sorry." Gronnus quickly crossed over and dropped the shade over the window.

Berin lowered his hand and blinked. He sighed as he could still barely see from the afterimages. "Really, Gronnus, you forget to do that every time. Sometimes I think you do that on purpose to intimidate me."

Gronnus just snorted. He did not think it took much to intimidate Berin. That was one of the reasons why Gronnus had partnered with him in the first place. If having a little sun in his eyes also worked, well, so be it.

"Roquan has already taken Amanda to another Overlord," said Gronnus. "It was a little while before Roquan emerged. You can bet he just made an offer. Top it."

"I will top it. With what we prearranged. That's all I can do, Gronnus!" Berin cried when Gronnus appeared to swell in anger again. "Be reasonable! Even if they could bring me more, I cannot contact them now, not from Roquan's Manor!"

Gronnus wanted to protest, but it died on his lips. He knew that Berin was correct. They could not risk exposure. If Roquan got a hold of this, he would bring it before the Conclave. While punishments tended not to be harsh for this sort of thing -- Overlords were a reluctant lot when it came to punishing one of their own for anything other than the most grievous violations -- it would swing sympathy in favor of Roquan.

"All right. But this time we cannot fail. It's simply not an option."

"I will do my best. That's all I offer. Now, if you'll excuse me... ?"

Gronnus paused and nodded once. "Good day to you."

"Good day," Berin said curtly as he turned and fled.

The short walk in the warm sunlight helped clear Vanlo's head more, such that the pain and remaining fuzziness were gone by the time he reached his office. At the same time, however, he still felt off somehow. It was like what he would feel just before a cold came on. At first this tended to reinforce the notion that he was suffering from an allergy, but there was still something that just did not seem right.

He was forced to put his concerns aside for the time being, as he had some patients. Only one was a slave, the others were merchants. This was expected. Merchant Clans did tend to have a resident Healer that traveled with them, but even the best of them was limited by what equipment was portable and could be packed and unpacked quickly. This limited the Healer's means in cases of more serious injury or chronic conditions. It was largely the latter that brought people to him that morning.

Vanlo became much more aware that something was amiss as the morning wore on. It grew increasingly harder to concentrate, as if his mind were suffering from some sort of fatigue. It was much like what his joints sometimes felt towards the middle of the day, necessitating his midday constitutional in lieu of a meal.

After the third patient, he had to pause. He went into the back room and sat down, massaging his temples. He let out a forlorn sigh. As he breathed in again, he wrinkled his brow.

There it was again, that same odor. And as quick as he sensed it, it was gone.

He glanced about the counter for any sign that he had spilled something and had neglected to clean up. Such a thing was unusual for him, but then again so was that entire morning.

The fuzziness in his head cleared. He straightened up and looked around. He could not shake the persistent feeling that something was still amiss.

His eyes gazed slowly at the various containers and devices that littered the shelves around him. They dropped to the objects that lay on the counter. He swung his body around in the seat and look at the apparatus.

He remembered when Yanna had tried to sabotage one of his experiments by altering some of the valves minutely. He had detected it at once. Too late to prevent the results of the experiment from being delayed, but it had helped him determine the culprit behind all the Overlord's woes at the time.

He was getting that same sensation now.

Vanlo walked back out into the treatment room. It was still empty, no more patients having arrived after handling those first few. He strolled to the center of the room and looked around. He got the same sense here as well. Like something subtly amiss.

The Healer rubbed at his temples again, and a somber look came over his eyes. No, not this time. There was nothing amiss with his office at all. There was something amiss with himself. The Overlord tried to deny it, but this was the truth. He was at the end. It had been a good career, a very enjoyable one, but all good things come to an end. It was a saying on many worlds, he understood.

He would have to resign his position once the Conclave was over. Until then, he had to keep his duties light. Only critical cases. He had to save his energy and his strength of will for those. This time Roquan would not sway him. The false Portal detection had been only the first warning signs, and he let himself ignore them at the Overlord's behest. But this could not be ignored, and could seriously impair his abilities.

He would not trust the well being of a Manor of slaves to someone like himself. Why should Roquan?

Vanlo returned to the back room. He sought and obtained a parchment and a quill.

The Healer would send a letter to the Healer Guild Master. He would arrange for his departure and a replacement before informing the Overlord. This way, he could not be persuaded against his better judgment to stay.

Vanlo dropped heavily into a seat. He put the parchment before him, and began to write.

"Ah, Overlord Farlor, it is indeed good to see you again," said the ebullient voice from near the door.

"Quite so, Berin, quite so," said the somewhat more officious voice in return. "Far too long since we have visited once another."

"I will endeavor to change this at the earliest opportunity after this Conclave!"

A chuckle. "And I do hope you have brought sufficient, ah, encouragement to seek your company more often."

Berin's voice moved further inside and grew closer to the bed. "Oh, indeed, Farlor! And I must say, I do enjoy dealing with an Overlord with such a direct approach."

"I will not stand for pussyfooting around. In my view, the primary purpose of a Conclave is to make deals. The issue on the table is almost secondary. Why should I hide this?"

"Oh, I most agree with you. Very wise words, indeed." A pause. "And you have been graced with the lovely Amanda as well it would seem."

"I had not expected it, but I am making good use of her."

A chortle. "I can see... and hear for that matter."

Amanda knew she was going to have trouble concentrating on this discussion, but she was doing her best.

Farlor had not been very interested in having sex with Amanda, but this was not to say that he did not want her. Even though Roquan had had the presence of mind to warn her about this Overlord's propensities, it had still been something of a shock to her.

In fact, some of the next words of their talk were drowned out as she moaned, her pussy reverberating in another soft but deep and drawn-out orgasm.

She felt a hand on her leg, making her shiver as it ran up her thigh, fingers briefly stroking the glossy, back surface of the triangle of enchanted cloth that lay over her mound. When it had been placed on her, after her legs had been spread apart, her ankles secured with thin chains to the posts at the foot of the bed, it had molded itself to her. It had flowed like liquid warmth over her folds, arousing her almost instantly.

Once it was in place, it began a slow, tantalizing sensual assault. It felt alternately like stroking, licking, and sucking. It made her rise slowly, driving her mad with desire and need for release. She had feared that it would be like Freya or Marisa again, that she would be denied relief, but this was not the case. The object was more than happy to make her cum, only to start it all over again.

She had already had about two orgasms since it was put on her, and now she felt herself climbing to another. Her hands occasionally clenched into fists where they were secured with more chains to the posts at the head of the bed.

"Now that is a rather advanced one," Berin said as he withdrew his hand. "My compliments to you."

"I use nothing but the best at my Manor, you know this," said Farlor. "Perhaps I may interest you in some."

"We shall see. But first, allow me to attend to the matter at hand."

"I daresay you will be able to offer me better than Roquan did. I almost felt sorry for him, to tell you the truth."

Berin laughed. "Perhaps he will get your sympathy vote then."

"Oh, hardly. I cannot abide by giving a vote to an Overlord without basic negotiation skills."

"May I relay that to Gronnus, then?"

"Certainly. Now, let us get down to business..."

Amanda, as best as she could, listened.

Jollis appeared to busy himself that morning with slow walks through the gardens and conversing occasionally with some of Roquan's slaves. This, naturally, belay his true purpose, that of keeping a close eye on the Healer's quarters while the Portal was opened behind the vacant slave quarters.

Normally he did not care for leaving the Portal unattended in such a manner, nor doing it in broad daylight. But he had to make sure that the Healer did not react to it, that the potion the merchant had prepared had indeed worked. It had also reassured him that the Healer did not appear to be damaged by the concoction.

Naturally, he knew that he could not get into the Healer's head, which is where it really mattered. But at least he could confirm there was no extensive brain damage. Again, while Jollis was no Healer, he knew how nasty Jonalla could be when not used properly. When first learning of the events leading up to his assignment, Jollis had been taken aback by the audacity of the Emperor to use such a substance in its raw form. It had practically begged for a response of this magnitude from Roquan.