Chapter 32

Vanlo uttered a long sigh. He cast his tired eyes down at his patient.

The bolt was out. The wound was closed and starting to knit. He applied more of the salve to it now that she could stand it, now that there was no longer raw muscle and tendon exposed, and it would start to knit a little faster.

But the girl's skin was still deathly pale. The bolt had gone deep and nicked the major artery. Before they got her to Vanlo, she had bled profusely. Her breathing had been very shallow. She was better now, but she still had far less blood in her body than she ought.

She needed a restorative draught, one that would accelerate her blood replacement.

Vanlo stood back. He was alone in the treatment room with Amanda. He had forcibly cleared everyone out, including the Overlord. He could not work on such a critical case with a great many people about.

Making restoratives was the supreme test of a Healer's ability. It required a great deal of attention to detail, timing, and -- most of all -- confidence in one's abilities.

He had everything but the last.

He contemplated asking the Overlord to power the Portal to bring a proper Healer from the Guild Hall faster, but it would take half a day at least for even just a local trip across Narlass. He was not sure Amanda had that long. He spent a good deal of time wracking his brains coming up with an alternative. He came up with nothing.

Nothing except himself.

He looked back down at Amanda. If he did nothing, she might die. She might also recover on her own. If he made the restorative, and it was wrong, she might die. Or she might not.

Vanlo sighed. He was not even given the luxury of an assurance that she would die if he did nothing.

Finally he turned away from Amanda's still body. He went over to the shelves and began to gather the ingredients he needed.

News of the incident spread quickly. It was Rennis that had first noticed something wrong. First the shade had suddenly come down, then there was the commotion and finally loud shouts. It was when Roquan had bellowed Amanda's name that finally had alerted him that something was wrong.

At first, the other Overlords looked on only curiously, thinking that it had been a case of a debate that had turned to fisticuffs. It was only when Amanda had been carried out, the crossbow bolt spearing her calf and leaving a bright red trail of blood as they carried her from the bluff, had a sudden, shocked silence fallen on the others.

Doran had been the first to venture into Gronnus' quarters after the Overlord had staggered out, pale and ill. Then Doran had looked inside and had become ill as well when his gaze had fallen on the body of the merchant, a pool of blood under him, a dagger lodged in his neck.

Rennis had taken Doran to Roquan's quarters at this point, expecting that Roquan would meet them there once he got Amanda to the Healer. Gronnus had tagged along, not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to be alone at this point to face the rest of the Conclave.

All three of them were trying to calm their nerves with some of Roquan's wine when the Overlord returned to his quarters. Rennis surged forward immediately. "Roquan! How is she? Will she be... ?"

Roquan ignored him. His eyes were fixed on Gronnus. Rennis stopped when he saw the blazing, raw fury in them. Roquan pushed past Rennis, grabbed the surprised Gronnus by his shirt and slammed his back into one of the wooden support poles, causing his goblet to fly from his hand and spill red wine over the floor.

"Roquan! Roquan, what are you... !" Doran shouted in warning, stepping forward. Rennis grabbed his arm and held him back, giving Doran a meaningful look and shaking his head.

"Make no mistake about this, Gronnus," Roquan snarled. "If Amanda dies, I place the blame at your feet. If she dies, you are through as an Overlord. If the Conclave won't depose you, I will kill you myself."

Gronnus was too scared to speak for a moment. His mouth worked with no sound coming out. Finally he managed to croak, "R-Roquan, p-please... I didn't... I d-didn't mean for her to..."

"Just like you did not mean to collude with the Emperor in the first place?!" Roquan thundered.

Doran's eyes became saucers. "What?!"

"Roquan! I-I didn't understand! I d-didn't know your position! Please, be reasonable!... I-I thought I was doing what was best for the Overlords! For Oceanus! Please!"

Roquan paused for a moment, then let go of the Overlord's shirt, taking a step back.

Gronnus let go a sigh of relief. It was short-lived. The next moment his head whipped to one side as Roquan's fist struck home, sending him crashing to the floor. A trickle of blood oozed from one corner of his mouth.

Neither Rennis nor Doran made any effort to help the fallen Overlord.

Roquan took a single, long, deep breath and let it go. He turned crisply to face the others.

"Amanda is in grave condition at the moment, but Vanlo is tending to her," he said calmly. He glanced at Gronnus as the Overlord struggled to sit up. "The assassin is dead, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Rennis asked dubiously.

"He could have told us more about what the Emperor is planning." Roquan turned his head back towards Gronnus. "Perhaps that was the true reason you were so adamant about taking the dagger while I was struggling with the merchant."

Doran slowly sank into a chair. "Great gods..."

"I hate to be the practical one at this point, Roquan," Rennis said somberly. "But there's no question about where the Conclave vote will go now. Not once they learn about this."

"Yes, and it had to take a trail of blood in the sands and a dead body for them to realize it. Pathetic."

Gronnus staggered to his feet.

Doran looked coldly at him. "And this one?" he said, gesturing as if the man were just one of his slaves. "What of him?"

The others turned and looked at Gronnus.

The man swallowed and swiped at the blood at the corner of his mouth with the back of one hand. His cheek and eye were already purpling. "I didn't know he would go this far," he rasped, his eyes wild. "I never wanted him to go this far! I told him, trying to assassinate an Overlord would bring civil war!"

Roquan fixed an icy stare on him. "That does not excuse you from your collusion with him in the first place. Give me a reason why I should not have the Conclave hold a tribunal for your actions."

Gronnus looked on fearfully for a few moments, then slowly relaxed. "Because, Roquan, they'll have to hold two of them. One for me, and then one for you, and how you trained a Draughtless Captive!"

"You foul-mouthed, lying bastard!" Doran shouted, jumping out of his seat. "How dare you try to impugn another Overlord by even suggesting... !"

"Doran! Enough!" Roquan declared.

"Roquan, are you going to let him stand there and tell these lies about you? Are you... ?"

Roquan gave him a meaningful look.

Doran subsided. His look of indignation turned to one of astonishment. He looked over to Rennis, who gazed back fixedly. "You are not serious," Doran said in a small voice.

Rennis simply looked at Roquan.

"It is true," said Roquan.

Doran looked aghast. "Not... Amanda?"

"Yes. She has not had the Draught."

Doran looked beside himself. He was at a complete loss for words.

"I have already had this out with him, Doran," said Rennis. "Nothing you can add to this would help. Or change things."

"Let me guess," Doran said flatly. "Freya knows as well. That's why Roquan gave Amanda to her. To avoid exposure. Oh, this gets better all the time!"

"Now is not the time to discuss this," Roquan said. "My only concern now is Amanda's condition."

"I do not want to see her die, either!" Doran thundered. "But the Conclave! You cannot let this get out!"

"It will not. Not unless Gronnus wishes the others to learn of his duplicity."

"And Freya?"

Gronnus gave a bark of humorless laughter. "Like she cares. Her only concern is for herself, and what she could gain. She doesn't care about Roquan's little indiscretion past that."

"You sound almost disappointed," Rennis said coldly.

Gronnus glared at him. "Do not start with me on that. Do you want me to formally declare my vote for Roquan? Fine! This is what I do! You have it! I will not deal with an Emperor that resorts to assassination!"

"No, you do it just when it's in your best interests."

"I'll remind you, I did not hesitate to kill the assassin while Roquan had him distracted!"

"Yes, but perhaps Roquan is right, and you killed him to prevent him from revealing more of your dealings with the Emperor!"

"Enough," said Roquan. "This is useless. We all know each other's transgressions. That is not what is important now. As Doran has said on numerous occasions, the Conclave is what is important. And now they know how treacherous Z'haas has become."

"The sooner he is off the throne, the better," Doran declared. "He is a madman. First he tries to train his own slaves, now he sends agents among the other Guilds." He threw up his arms dramatically. "Do we all need to watch our backs now amongst our own slaves? Do we need to avoid letting them leave our Manors? Do we need to watch them every moment? Hmph. If half of what you accuse Freya of is true, Roquan, she's damn lucky she didn't have the Imperial agent in her Manor instead of yours!"

Roquan was about to reply when he paused. One corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly.

Rennis noticed this and looked to him questioningly. Roquan shook his head. "It is nothing. A stray thought about something else."

Rennis nodded. "By the way, has anyone told Uridon about this yet?"

"I suspect he knows by now." Roquan paused. "I will speak with him later. I want to make sure he understands that the honor of his Clan is intact. I do not hold them responsible for this."

Vanlo sat in patient concentration as he peered through the lens of a contraption that looked like a large magnifying glass attached to a metal arm bolted to a rolling table. It was, of course, more than it appeared. The mechanism was enchanted, and when he looked into the lens, depending on how he set the controls, he could see through skin, muscle, and bone.

He once used this on Amanda to help heal a broken bone when she had first arrived on Narlass, the result of a large hailstone from a storm from which she had been rescued on Earth. Now he peered at her injured leg. He was pleased with what he saw.

The artery that had been torn appeared as if nothing had ever happened to it. Muscle and tendon had reformed. Some of the former was a little weak. She would limp a bit for about a half moon before it healed completely. The bone had been missed by the bolt, which was fortunate. That much damage might have been too catastrophic for his talents.

The only difficulty he was having was the skin.

Skin was harder to manage than muscle or even bone. Getting it to come together and work correctly was one thing; getting it to do so and retain its proper appearance was another. When the appearance of a slave is as important as her sexual skills, it was crucial he get this right.

He appeared to be having success. Where the skin had knitted completely, it was smooth and blemish free. It was only slightly discolored from swelling, but this would pass. It would get trickier as the healing approached the center of the wound.

He reached forward with a small probe and teased away some more scar tissue as it crumbled in the wake of the restoration. So far, so good.

He sighed and leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was starting to feel fatigued again. Yet he could not afford to be fatigued, not now.

Vanlo turned the machine off and headed into his inner chamber. In the corner, the apparatus steamed and gurgled as the ingredients of the restorative trickled through it. Fortunately, he had all the ingredients he needed. He felt a little better that he had done it right, as everything appeared in the apparatus as it should. Everything was the right color, consistency, and moved along at the proper speed. The flask at the end was already at half the amount he needed.

He returned to his patient and placed a hand tenderly on her forehead. Her eyelids twitched slightly. She was still very much among the land of the living and still stable. If she could hold on a little longer, he would have the draught ready.

He withdrew his hand and smiled slightly. He hoped to have Amanda better by the following morning. He was most anxious to go back to his inventory. It was quite interesting. Now he was finding other ingredients that he had less of than he ought.

In his tent, Clan Leader Uridon's hand shook so badly that he had to hold the glass with two hands to bring it to his lips. He took a long draw of his brandy, sending a fiery trail down his throat. He leaned back in his chair, feeling lightheaded. He closed his eyes.

After a few long, uneasy moments, and without opening his eyes, Uridon finally spoke.

"All the platinum that has been spent by you and the Conclave will be returned."

Roquan was too nonplussed to speak.

Uridon tried to take another drink and gave up, putting his glass down, splashing brandy over the small table. He covered his face with his hands.

"You do not have to do this, Clan Leader," Roquan said respectfully. "You have earned that platinum. This has..."

"I cannot accept your money! Not after this! Not after this... disgrace!"

"Your Clan is not at fault. I cannot emphasize this any more than I have. No one holds you or anyone else responsible."

Uridon shot out of his seat, his face livid. "Herdon was my responsibility!" he bellowed. "Mine alone! And I let him do this!"

"You did not let him do anything. He did not do this for you or the Clan. He did it for the Emperor."

"But I should have seen this!"

Roquan remained silent. The look in Uridon's eyes was something he had never seen before in the Clan Leader.

"Roquan, I knew that he had been a soldier for the Imperium. I knew that he had done things that he would not tell me about. I knew he had become... political. I should never have trusted him with any duties whatsoever. He even suggested he knew of plots against Overlords!"

"There was no way you could have known. No Emperor before this has ever stooped to such treachery as this. This is unprecedented. When is it normal for someone who was a mere soldier to become an assassin for the Emperor?"

Uridon paled at the word "assassin" and had to sit down again.

"Unless there is something else about him that you know?"

The Clan Leader paused and shook his head. "He rarely gave me details about those years in the Imperial Guard. When he did, it was only to tell me of the prowess he had with multiple weapons." He frowned. "And his political views. I could have done without that."

Roquan considered for a long moment. "Uridon, I do not want to see you give up the platinum you have earned. You will be doing your Clan a disservice. No, let me finish, Clan Leader," the Overlord said sharply when Uridon looked about to protest. "If you wish to do something to... to 'atone' for this... then I ask you to become an ally."

Uridon stared at Roquan. "An ally? I don't understand."

"I fear that dangerous times are upon us, Clan Leader. While Conclaves have in the past deposed Emperors, this will be the first time that an Emperor may be arming against us."

Uridon looked alarmed. "Arming?! Are you quite sure?"

"Not entirely. But the signs are there."

"He would be mad to do so!"

"And what of late has happened to convince you that he is not mad?"

Uridon paused and nodded. "Point made, Overlord." He sighed. "What would you wish of me and the Clan?"

"Information. We will need to know if Z'haas is moving to strike. Or if he is attempting to rally the Nobility. It will not be long before he knows of the failed attempt on my life. He will not wait for the Overlords to act. I need information. I need it quickly." He paused. "And I need it free of charge."

Uridon set his face hard and stood. He clasped the Overlord's hand and shook it once. "Deal. You will have whatever information we can find."

"I will give you a Farviewing pearl before you leave the Manor. You can use it to contact me directly. We cannot risk sending couriers."

Uridon nodded. "Yes, understandable. Wait, there may be something else I can offer you."

"Yes?"

"If things break down... if the worst occurs and there is war... you will need supplies. Possibly weapons to arm the workers of your Manor's lands. You will need a tradesman."