Chapter 24

"You truly do look fine, Janna. We should not be late for the Caucus."

Janna turned her head towards Tarras as he approached her. His voice had been gentle, but his eyes betrayed urgency. Janna had to suppress the urge to sigh.

It was the fourth day of the Caucus. Tarras had arrived as he did every morning. It was becoming a routine. That was the problem. Everything was becoming routine, as if her presence here was meaningless. At the same time, she was terrified of reaching her turn to speak.

It was then she remembered who's turn it was to speak that morning.

"I'm terribly sorry, Tarras," Janna said, her cheeks flushing as she turned away from the mirror. "That was thoughtless of me. You're right, let's go. Enough dawdling."

She surged past him. He rounded on one heel and caught her arm.

Janna was so surprised by the move that she nearly yanked her arm from his grasp in indignation. It passed quickly when her eyes met his and she saw the concern in them.

"Are you all right, Janna?"

Somehow, Janna had expected him to say more than this. His response suddenly seemed lackluster and almost cruel. Now she did yank her arm from his fingers, though not with very much force. Her lips tightened as she gazed at him. "No, I am not all right, if it means anything to you."

Janna regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Fortunately, Tarras looked on her no less kindly or concerned. "I would think I've shown that it does," he said softly.

Janna sighed. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Then what is it?"

Janna's eyes flicked over to the door for a moment, as if she wanted to escape and avoid having to answer the question. She had to force herself to meet his eyes again. "Duric," she said simply.

Tarras paused a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "You are worried about him?"

"Not him directly, but what he will say to me when he finally contacts me."

"Ah. You are afraid to hear that the 'preparations' are not going well."

Yes, that was a worry, but that was not what had Janna disturbed so. "You could say that, yes," she replied anyway.

"Lord Duric strikes me as someone who knows what he is doing," said Tarras. "And is willing to admit when he does not and listens to those that do. Does he still have Farro as his adviser?"

Janna nodded.

"A very good man. If Duric is listening to even half of what that man says, he will do well in his endeavor."

Janna felt doubly frustrated. At Tarras' insistence, they had to dance around what Duric was actually doing, in case someone was listening to them. Janna thought it would have been a supreme breach of protocol for the Emperor to use magic to eavesdrop on private conversations. She had to keep reminding herself that Z'haas had already shown a willingness to do the unorthodox.

It made any meaningful discussion next to impossible. And she was not even sure she could trust him enough to confide in him.

Tarras could tell that his words did not mollify Janna in the least, despite her attempt to smile slightly and nod in acknowledgment. His instincts told him that something was up with Janna, and it was more than just nervousness over Duric's activities. It was something closer to home.

Tarras wanted to help. At first he had thought his interest in her was purely emotional, but he quickly discovered that he wanted her as an ally.

But in addition to having her as a lover, not instead of. She excited him in a way that none of his most lovely and skilled slaves did. His wife was not even a factor. It was a marriage arranged for political convenience, and to sire an heir. Both responsibilities had been carried out years ago, and both now looked further afield.

Tarras wanted her, but not like this. Not vulnerable and needful. He wanted the one filled with fire and spirit, the one he had heard so much about, the one he could see in her eyes.

It was the one he started to see again when Janna drew herself up straight and looked at him with a sharp gaze. "We are wasting time here. It will be your turn to speak. I for one want to hear something substantial in your words, and not the prattle the others pass off as speech. Don't disappoint me."

Tarras sensed the deeper meaning in her words from the way her tone softened at the last sentence. He smiled at her and took her hand. "I hope to live up to your expectations, dear Janna."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

Janna's lips parted slightly, then curled into a small smirk. "So are you trying to gain advantage with me again?"

"That depends. Is it working?"

Janna laughed. "Typical. You find one weakness and try to exploit it for all its worth."

"My, my, Lady Janna, are you saying that something as simple as taking your hand can fluster you?"

Before she could reply, he squeezed her hand and held it against his chest.

Janna felt his chest rise and fall under her hand. She curled the fingers slightly and felt them press into hard muscle. She lifted her head again at the same time she drew in a single, noisy breath. "And you think you can excite me by forcing me to touch your person?"

There was a sultry edge to her voice, and her dark eyes smoldered a touch as they looked at him.

Tarras returned it with a similar look of his own, and Janna felt her sex tingle again.

"Interesting that you could have pulled away at any time," Tarras said with a trace of amusement in his voice.

Janna let her hand linger on him, even sliding down a bit before slowly withdrawing it. "I do things when I want to rather than when another tells me."

"I have no doubt of that. And I admire that."

"Do you?"

"Yes. So I hope you will indeed want to."

Janna raised an eyebrow. "Want to... what?"

He drew close to her and ran a few fingers through her luxurious hair. Janna's eyes widened but never left his. The desirous look in them deepened.

"It's more than what you think," Tarras said, letting more of a somber tone creep into his voice.

Janna looked at him in confusion, but he had already turned away.

"Let us go. The Caucus will be starting soon," he said as he headed to the door.

Tarras and Janna were among the last to arrive. As they approached the wide doorway at the entrance to the chamber, they saw a curious sight. An ancient, white-bearded man stood, his spotted hands folded over one end of a walking stick, glowering silently at the Lords as they passed.

Janna looked at him. The man looked back, and his eyes narrowed to sharp points. It was only then that Janna realized that the walking stick was a Mage staff.

Tarras suddenly took her hand and squeezed it. "Do not give him the time of day, Lady Janna," he said softly but urgently.

Janna had felt a chill pass through her from the penetrating gaze of the man, so she had little incentive anyway to keep looking at him. She made a point of tightening her jaw and turning her head in as lofty a manner as she could, feeling it was the right thing to do. Nevertheless, she felt the man's eyes on her as she passed, as if they were cold, hard weights pressing into her.

Once they had passed into the chamber, Janna turned to Tarras. "Who exactly was that?"

"Mage Q'yros, the Emperor's right hand lackey," said Tarras.

Janna glanced behind her, as if fearing the Mage had followed them into the room. He was nowhere in sight. "That was Q'yros?"

"Has Duric talked about him?"

"Some, yes. He gave Roquan D'ronstaq some difficulties, I understand."

"Perhaps you can enlighten me later about that. I have heard much rumor as to what transpired." After they sat down, he turned his head towards her and added, "If you feel you can confide that in me."

Janna so much wanted to do so. She needed someone to whom she felt she could talk in person rather than over Farview. "We'll see."

Tarras nodded. It was less than he wanted, more than he had expected.

Janna felt guilty for rebuffing him like that, since, for all she knew, it had also spoiled her chances at a tryst with him. But she had to maintain discretion. Duric had emphasized that. She had to be sure Tarras could be trusted.

What was ironic was the fact that the way Janna often discovered when someone could be trusted was how he conducted himself during sex. It was not something she could explain in words, as it was more emotional than logical. But she had to trust him enough to get to that point in the first place. Normally she would not think twice about a casual liaison, but it seemed wrong here somehow.

She settled back in her seat and hoped she would remain awake long enough to hear Tarras' speech.

Q'yros came away from the meeting chamber even more irritated than when he first arose that morning.

The magic he was channeling into the spell to track the movements of the Lords was taking a toll on him. One of the reasons that aging Mages as himself rarely showed overt signs of the typical afflictions that affect the elderly was that the magic charge they had accumulated over the years helped shore up the body. But now that he was using up much of that for this spell, he was losing that protection.

Janna was not too far off the mark in thinking Q'yros' staff a walking stick. The Mage used it in that fashion now as gout had flared up in one foot. His fingers felt stiff as arthritis had stolen its way into them. Thus he had been in an increasingly sour mood over the past few days waiting for something to happen.

And to add to his misery, he still had the Emperor to deal with.

Q'yros grumbled when he did not find Z'haas in any of his usual haunts. Which meant he was in one of two places. He had either taken to bed with illness, or he was in that tiny shrine to his brother. Since he would have heard immediately had any illness befallen the sovereign, it had to be the latter.

The Mage did not dare intrude on Z'haas' privacy. And with the aches and pains that had afflicted him in the long trek to the narrow corridor that led to the room, he was not in the best frame of mind to speak with the Emperor. Thus he waited.

Q'yros managed to keep his patience and put on an outward look of calm when Z'haas emerged from the room. He paused as his gaze fell upon Q'yros, a look of wariness coming across his face.

"What is it, Q'yros?" he demanded.

"I have come to beg you to reconsider your stand on the matter we discussed the other day, my Emperor," said Q'yros in a slightly strained voice.

Z'haas' lips thinned. "I thought I had said there was nothing more to discuss on this matter."

"I hope to change you mind, my Emperor. It is vital that we learn more of our adversary's technology."

"It is bad enough that you allowed him to dredge up those artifacts in the first place!"

"The damage is already done, my Emperor," Q'yros said with forced patience. "Thus what difference would it make now?"

"And alert our enemy that we know of their Portals? The more people that know we have the artifacts increases the chance that the information will escape."

"The Mage Guild has a history of being discreet in these matters, my Emperor."

"Yes, as you had when you told the Guild Master in the first place," said Z'haas acidly.

Q'yros' hands gripped the staff more tightly, sending an ache through his fingers. "I did as I thought you would have done, my Emperor."

Z'haas frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"I did it for the good of Oceanus. It is what has guided your hand, is it not?"

The Emperor folded his arms. "That goes without saying."

"It is motivating me as well. And sometimes you need to take risks."

"There is a difference between risk and recklessness, Q'yros."

Q'yros wanted to laugh out loud. It was ironic that he thought the Emperor was the one that did not seem to understand the difference himself. From the plans he had seen for the "Colosian Incursion" as it was being called -- neatly avoiding the politically hot word "invasion" -- Z'haas was still planning on leaving only a single legion behind to protect the Imperial Palace. Z'haas was still convinced that any attack on the Imperium would be fronted by the Lords themselves in the form of a palace coup, and it was Q'yros' responsibility to keep an eye on them. He still did not put any faith in Gronnus' words.

Q'yros could count one victory on that front, however. He had managed to convince the head of the Imperial Guard to let the Mage vary the patrol routes fairly often. Every few days Q'yros changed the path the patrols took and their timing. There would be no discernible pattern to it, thus eliminating the chance of a surprise attack.

"And you have told me that you have already discovered a great deal about the enemy's methods," Z'haas continued.

"We are missing the most crucial piece of the puzzle, which is how they are directing the Portals."

"But will that information stop them, Q'yros? It was my understanding that even with their advancement, they cannot breach an anti-Portal ward, or they would have done so already. Is that not still true?"

Q'yros sighed. "As far as I know, it is still true."

"Then I fail to see the benefit of any further investigation into the matter, and I forbid any further mention of it. Now, have you anything for me on the Lords?"

Q'yros stiffened. He cannot see beyond the end of his own nose, the Mage thought ruefully. It is one thing to be practical, but this is taking it to an extreme.

Unfortunately, he had no choice but to accept it. Once the Emperor dictated that a subject was not to be broached any further, it was a dead issue. This was the first time Z'haas had done this to Q'yros, and it made him rather angry. He suppressed it as best he could, but his voice was tense when he spoke again. "I have nothing for you, my Emperor. I have seen nothing that suggests anything is amiss. I see no unusually large gatherings. I see no attempt at collusion with any local citizens save for servants and merchants. I see no attempts to penetrate to areas of the palace they have no business being."

The irritation in the Mage's voice above and beyond the simple anger he felt towards the Emperor was evident. His words did nothing to please Z'haas either.

"Are you sure you are tracking all their movements, Q'yros?"

"As I have told you before..." and again and AGAIN "... I am positive I am catching all their movements. I have had no reports of Lords going about naked."

Z'haas frowned. "Is that a joke, Q'yros?"

"It is the only way that they could go about undetected, and that assumes that they would even know that their clothes have a magical charge that I am tracking. And even if they do, they have nothing with which to remove that charge."

"Surely they are planning something! Perhaps that is what they are spending their time doing in the meeting chamber."

"Perhaps. But if they are, they have put nothing into action."

"We should have put eavesdroppers in the chamber as I had suggested..."

"No, my Emperor. It does not matter if they are plotting the most grandiose schemes of revolution. It does not matter if their talk is filled with calls to usurp the throne. Without action, they are nothing but words. And such a thing cannot take place without support from someone. They have no weapons. They have no influence over the staff. They have no means to coax, exhort, or bribe their way to a position where they would have opportunity to take the throne. They have no power here."

Z'haas was silent for a long moment. His gaze then hardened as he looked back to Q'yros.

"When their silly political games are over and they are ready to call me to the Caucus, I will be there with my guard, and to the hells with protocol!"

"My Emperor, I don't advise..."

"And to the hells with what you advise!"

Q'yros was too shocked by this rebuke to respond.

"I will not allow myself to be put into a vulnerable position, Q'yros! Not this close to launching the incursion! If I can pacify Colos, I will have bought Oceanus valuable time. I will have pushed the enemy back from the gates."

Q'yros frowned. "With what we have discovered about the Portals, do you really think they even need Colos as a staging area?" he exclaimed. "Have you ever stopped to think of that, my Emperor?"

"Portals cannot launch an invasion!" Z'haas thundered. "It is a means to undermine Oceanus from within! Or to provide reconnaissance for the enemy. Or, perhaps, Q'yros, it is simply to distract us, and make us run around in circles trying to figure out their technology, when all the while they are using bordering nations as staging areas to hem us in and attack us from all sides."

Q'yros looked confused. "Hem us in? The only other nation that 'borders' us in any way that is of any consequence is the Urisi Nation across the eastern ocean. Beyond that, you have only the smattering of kingdoms in the south continent or the wild lands to the north. Surely you do not expect to launch any more 'incursions' into them?"

"I will do whatever I have to do to protect Oceanus. Whatever the cost."

Q'yros knew what he wanted to ask next. He wanted to ask about the Urisi Nation, if Z'haas intended to go head-to-head with them. Ultimately, he did not ask. He was afraid of what the answer might be.

Oceanus and Urisi were the Narlassi equivalent of superpowers. Thus any military clash between them would be akin to a World War. It would likely trigger an economic collapse in both nations that would spread to the rest of the globe.

Q'yros would leave his question unasked and simply hope that the Emperor would not be foolish enough to attempt such a thing. However, his talk with the Emperor did clarify one thing. Z'haas was not concerned with the Portals as a threat in and of themselves so much as he was worried about what was behind them. He did not see them as something that could be used as a military transport mechanism.

Indeed, Q'yros knew of the limitations on how long a Portal could be held open safely or how large it could be made. The conventional wisdom was that the energy expenditure went up exponentially. He assumed that the enemy had not solved this, or they would not need to bother with subterfuge. They could simply open a dozen Portals at once and spew legion after legion into Oceanus. Or as Z'haas had pointed out, they could simply break past the wards and open Portals into the Imperial Palace if they had solved that problem instead.

"The incursion will go as planned," said Z'haas. "Regardless of what the Lords prattle on about at the Caucus!"

The Emperor left the Mage, his footfalls making crisp reports against the floor as he went.

Q'yros sighed. He wondered now if they should have even bothered to host the Caucus after all. Perhaps it would have forced Z'haas to take the possibility of a direct assault on the Imperial Palace more seriously.

"Lord Tarras K'riis of the Carolas Province!"

At Uras' pronouncement, Tarras rose to a modest round of applause and table-slapping, mostly from his closer allies. He paused a moment, his eyes shifting about the chamber. His allies were about the only ones whose complete attention was on him. Most of the others were distracted in side-conversations, reading, or even sleeping. One was turned away and conducting a Farview audience with an adviser back home.

Tarras came around the curving stone table and entered the center of the chamber. By this time, enough silence had fallen among the attentive that the murmur of conversation from the others had become an annoying din.

Each Lord that had come before him had simply ignored it and launched into his speech, practically bellowing his words to the rafters. Tarras simply folded his hands behind his back and waited.

It was not long before the others noticed the silence and began looking up in confusion. In each case, they found Tarras staring impassively at them. They sheepishly subsided and turned their attention to him. Soon all that was left was the one Farviewing his adviser. Tarras turned and fixed his gaze upon him.

Uras' voice boomed into the silence. "Lord Handon!"

The Noble stopped, blinked, and looked towards Uras in surprise.

"There is a time and a place for everything, Lord Handon. And this is neither one for taking a Farview!"

Handon swallowed and quickly waved away his adviser with a few nervous swipes of his hand. He turned around in his seat even before the image had faded completely.

Uras glowered at the man for another moment before turning his gaze to Tarras. "The floor is yours, Lord Tarras."

Janna was suitably impressed. Tarras had not simply commanded the attention of everyone, he had taken it by the horns and wrestled it into submission. She had not wanted to be disappointed, and so far she was getting her wish.

Now she had to hope that his words were just as impressive.

"Was it truly that difficult, my Lords?" said Tarras, his voice crisp and clear. "Was it truly an arduous task to devote even the smallest modicum of attention to the words that were about to be spoken in your midst? Or have you all had your senses so saturated by the raging flood of patriotic fervor that has risen from the mouths of the other Lords like a tsunami? Or perhaps you simply wish to ride the wave and let it carry you forth, confident that you will have the skill and the finesse needed to dismount the wave safely even after it has cut a swathe of nationalistic destruction in the midst of our perceived enemy?"