Chapter 27

Lord Tarras was an exceptionally observant man.

He had noticed the subtle nuances of the other Lords' voices and body language as they had carried out the debate over the last two days since Janna's speech. He saw that they were eager to come to agreement on all the points and direct their considerable vitriol towards the Emperor rather than each other. They had already had two votes, and it was close to unanimous each time. Only a few minor points were truly being debated.

And now, on the third day, after a new vote that was almost sure to be unanimous, it appeared that they would be ready to accept the Emperor into their midst, and present their formal list of grievances.

But this is not what Tarras concerned himself with as he walked the halls of the Palace just as the first rays of morning sunlight cast shafts of hazy light through the east-facing windows. He was instead concerned with the guards.

They appeared unconcerned with him, however. There were not many of them here, along the outskirts of the Palace, far from the central chambers and the Lords' residences. These halls were largely empty, and his footsteps echoed hollowly against the stone floor. His footfalls occasionally raised some dust, which swirled and eddied in the shafts of sunlight.

Tarras left the shafts of sunlight behind and came to the northwest corner of the palace, where a narrow door at the end of the corridor opened to the outside.

He stepped through the door and onto a balcony. Off to the right, the canopy of a large and ancient tree spread out at nearly eye-level. Birds twittered within its shadowy branches, the only sound that could be heard in the calm and chilly air. His skin prickled a bit when a light breeze blew against him.

Off to the left, a large open field of grass stretched from the west side of the palace towards the north, where it met a thicket of trees. In the far half of the field near the forest's edge was a large collection of men.

They were arranged in rows, rows grouped into regiments, regiments arranged in formation. The men marched as one, swung their weapons as one, parried an imaginary attacker as one, all under the watchful eye of one man who stood upon a low wooden tower.

This was not the first time he had seen one of the Emperor's legions training here. He had been visiting this spot for a few days now, even before Janna had learned of Duric's plans for her. And as before, he had stared at the marching lines of men for less than a single candlemark before he furrowed his brow in thought.

Besides being observant, Tarras was a student of history, especially military history. It was unusual, certainly, at least among the Lords. Most were unconcerned about a military past that, to them, occurred long before some of their clans formally existed, even before Oceanus became a nation. Tarras felt they ignored it at their peril.

And the research he had done told him something was not quite right here.

It was very hard to put into words. He simply had a feeling that something was off. If pressed, he might say something about subtle hints in the timing of the movements of some of the men, as if they were marching to a slightly different beat than the others. Or that there was a slight difference in the way some of the men swung their weapons, as if they had adopted a variation in style.

But that morning, Tarras was not there to continue his observations of the Emperor's legions. Instead, he was there to carry out an experiment.

He glanced below him, peering over the edge of the balcony. Under him and off to the right, closer to the trunk of the tree, was a wide portico extending from the north side of the palace.

With his eyes, he throughly searched the grounds around the portico and out over the field. The edge of the forest curved towards the palace here, and he followed it with his gaze to where it drew closer to the portico. The area appeared deserted. Naturally there would be no need for guards here, not with a legion nearby. And there was little that was valuable here that needed to be protected.

Tarras withdrew into the palace. He found his way down a winding stone staircase to the floor below. Here, a wide hallway stretched past large, empty ballrooms and reception areas. All were closed off with rope draped across their entrances. He soon spotted the wide, arched doorway that led onto the portico.

Tarras paused, his hands clasped casually behind his back. He looked one way up the corridor, and then the other. He knew there was a guard just around the corner at the end of the hall from where he had come, as he had spotted the man as he came off the stairs. But no guard whatsoever had this doorway in his direct line of sight.

He stepped out onto the portico. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze overhead, and dappled sunlight jittered in swaying patterns along the tile. Spanning the tall columns that marked the outer edge of the portico were carved stone railings, entwined with bright green vines.

Tarras stepped up to the railing. The edge of the trees stretched north and curved west, until it formed the northern edge of the field. He could see the men still marching in their formations from nearly ground level.

He saw a path into the trees. It seemed to follow the curve. If it continued all the way around, it would offer him a much closer vantage point from which to see the legion training.

Tarras looked to the side. There was no exit from the portico to the grass. It was obvious that no one was expected to exit onto the palace grounds from right here.

He peered over the edge and saw that the portico hung no more than half his height from the ground. He swung his gaze from side to side, then glanced back towards the doorway. There were still no guards to be seen anywhere.

Tarras stepped over to a part of the portico that was hidden from the legion. He carefully swung a leg over the railing and eased himself over the side. He landed with a soft thud in the grasses and wildflowers below the portico.

He folded his hands behind him and walked at a leisurely pace towards the path. He did not hurry, nor did he dawdle. He kept his stride casual, as if simply wishing to enjoy the countryside.

The trees closed around him as he started down the path. The ground was firm and packed and relatively free of debris or undergrowth. It had definitely been maintained. It was obviously considered perfectly natural for someone to be seen walking here. Of course it was. That was why there were no guards in attendance.

Yet Tarras had covered less than a third of the distance to the training grounds when he heard the heavy, booted footfalls behind him, accompanied by the metallic clinking of mail. He chose not to react to it and continued his walk. After all, he was doing nothing obviously wrong.

An Imperial guard passed on either side of him, and in what seemed like one smooth, lightning move, unsheathed their swords. By the time there was the sound of metal sliding on metal as they crossed their swords before his path, Tarras had already come to a stop.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Lord Tarras said with an amiable smile. "Is there something I may do for you?"

Tarras heard footsteps behind him and turned. A third guard had stepped up to them, his weapon still sheathed, though his hand lay on the hilt at his hip. "My humble apologies, my Lord," his voice rang out, respectful but firm. "But I must insist you go no further and return to the palace proper."

Without losing one iota of his smile, Tarras said, "Oh, really? Under whose authority, might I ask?"

"The Emperor's adviser and head of security, Mage Q'yros."

"Head of security? My, my. An unusual role for a wizard, do you not think so?"

"It matters not. It matters only that we have been told to accept his word as good as coming from the mouth of the Emperor himself. If you would please follow me?"

The question was spoken politely, but with a tone that indicated there was only one right answer. Tarras heard the sound of metal again and glanced behind him. The other two guards no longer held their weapons crossed, but neither had they sheathed them.

"May I ask one more question?" Tarras said, and without waiting for leave, continued, "Why am I being restricted to the palace in this manner?"

"It is only for you own safety, my Lord. The Emperor is training his legions rather intensely. He does not want to see any of the Lords hurt."

"Ah. Quite thoughtful of him. I must remember to tell the other Lords this."

"If you wish to continue to observe them, my Lord, there are several balconies that may afford..."

Lord Tarras shook his head slowly. "No need. I have seen all I care to. Lead on, please."

As he allowed himself to be led back to the palace, he was being watched from the very same balcony that he himself had occupied not long before. Someone with narrow eyes of diamond hardness, hands gripped tightly around the top of a staff.

Mage Q'yros watched Lord Tarras until he and the guards around him disappeared from sight beyond the portico. He let out a sigh that was something between relief and anger.

He had realized that there was no way his waning energies could keep up the monitoring spell as he had designed it. He had redone it a few days before. Now it would instead focus on key areas and sound a mental alarm to him when it detected someone wandering "out of bounds." Then he would decide how to deal with it on a case-by-case basis.

He did not dare tell Z'haas about this change. The Emperor had badgered Q'yros into showing him how the tracking spell had worked, and he had fallen in love with it. It was unlikely that he would agree to let it be changed, so Q'yros did not ask.

This new design meant dozens of distractions a day whenever the Caucus was not in session, but it helped preserve his energies. It would at least tell him if a Lord was traversing out of bounds. And the legion training field was a definitely an out of bounds area.

He turned his eyes towards the legion in the distance. He believed he had stopped Lord Tarras before the man could get too close to them. With his untrained eyes, Q'yros could see nothing amiss. He could tell no difference between the soldiers that were Oceanus nationals and the ones that were not.

Still, Lord Tarras was close to Lady Janna. Before the Mage had changed over the spell, he had spied them spending the entire night together in her room.

No matter. If they strayed into any areas that he did not like, he would know about it. He would no longer have a permanent record of their travels, as that was the costliest part of the spell, but that should not matter. It was enough to know that the transgression had occurred.

Q'yros turned away and stepped back inside.

Jollis parted ways with his cohort, each heading away from the gate of the D'ronstaq Manor. The guard on duty, having witnessed nothing more than an exchange of goods, nodded to the both of them and bid them good day.

Jollis carried the large bottle of rare wine back into the Manor. Behind him, he heard his merchant friend remount his horse and gallop away. It was largely for show. Soon as he was out of sight of anyone, he would summon a Portal to take him away.

It would be foolish not to be suspicious of the transaction he was about to conclude. It appeared odd to him that the aging Healer would only now wish the services of the Overlord's Tradesman. Especially considering how his younger cohort had been shadowing Jollis up until a few days ago when it abruptly ceased.

If there was one thing Jollis had learned in previous missions, it was cause for concern when your enemy began to dog your footsteps, but it was even more alarming when he stopped for no apparent reason. Thus when he had received the request from Vanlo very soon after that, it had made him wary. Yet there was no obvious danger, and to beg off this request was to raise suspicion.

And it could very well be a perfectly innocent transaction.

Jollis turned down the path to the Healer office and was soon at the doorway. He swept aside the curtain and stepped into the reception area. Three slaves were seated in the room, chatting idly amongst themselves until they took notice of Jollis. They smiled to him and offered a polite greeting.

Jollis smiled at them in return and nodded his head once before raising his eyes towards the voices in the back.

This was his first time in the Healer office, at least entering from the front during the daylight. When he strode through the reception room and stood in the doorway of the treatment room, things became more familiar to him.

Jollis found both Vanlo and Lanno flanking a young female slave sitting on one of the treatment tables. Lanno had the girl's arm in his hands and was listening to Vanlo, until his eyes shifted over to Jollis.

Vanlo stopped and turned. "Ah, Jollis, good day to you," Vanlo said with a pleasant smile.

"Good day to you as well, Healer," Jollis said with a respectful bow of his head. "If you are busy, I can come back at a later time."

"Unfortunately, I will become no less busy," Vanlo said, gesturing towards the reception area. "If you will give me one moment, I shall have a bit of time to spare for you. You have obtained what I requested, yes?"

Jollis lifted the bottle he carried. "I have indeed."

"Oh, splendid! I was not sure you'd be able to track down that particular vintage. Wait right there, please."

Jollis nodded and cradled the bottle in his arm as Vanlo turned back to his younger cohort.

"Now, Lanno, please pay attention," Vanlo said in a stern voice. He ran a finger along the slave's arm. "Make sure to check all the tendons, not just the major one. Pinpoint the source of the strain before you take action."

"Yes, I understand, Master Vanlo," said Lanno, a bit of tension in his voice, his jaw tight.

"See that you do, Lanno. And only then apply the salve." He picked up a vial of milky fluid from the side and handed it to him. "And be careful. The stopper is on a bit tight."

"Yes, Master Vanlo."

Vanlo nodded once and turned away from them. He smiled and gestured to Jollis.

Jollis stepped inside. His eyes flicked over to Lanno for a moment before resting on Vanlo again. He raised the bottle and turned it around so that the label could be seen. "Fifty years old as you have requested, Healer," Jollis said, a touch of pride in his voice.

"Oh my, you did find it after all," Vanlo said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He reached out and took the bottle from Jollis, holding it almost lovingly. His gaze dropped to it, his eyes reading the label before he turned the bottle in his hands.

As he did so, he took two slow steps laterally across Jollis' vision. Jollis' gaze followed him, his body turning as well. Now his back was partially turned towards Lanno, such that he and his patient were no longer in his direct line of vision.

This was not to say that Jollis was not paying attention to them. He had his hearing keenly tuned to them. He could tell approximately what body movements they were making from the sound alone. Moreover, he would know in an instant if Lanno -- or the slave for that manner -- were about to strike him from behind. He was not particularly worried about being caught unawares.

"I believe you will be quite satisfied with the flavor and aroma," Jollis said. "This bottle was stored in carefully controlled conditions for at least the last two decades."

"Astonishing! Jollis, I do see now why the Overlord is so enamored of you. You do indeed work wonders."

Jollis smiled at the praise and bowed his head. "You honor me with your words, Healer."

"The agreed-upon price then?" asked Vanlo. He took another two steps across Jollis' field of view, on the pretext of setting the bottle down on a small table. Jollis followed and turned again, his back now completely towards Lanno.

Lanno's head turned, even as he continued speaking to the slave about her condition. "It looks like this is not bad at all, Kirra. Some of the salve should do the trick."

"Thank you, Master Lanno," said the young slave.

Jollis tensed a bit as Vanlo reached into his pocket. He remained so even when Vanlo extracted nothing more than a small leather pouch. He did not allow himself to relax until the drawstring was opened and he could see that platinum pieces were indeed the only contents. "Fifteen, I believe?" Vanlo asked.

He handed the pouch to Jollis.

At almost the same time, Jollis heard a faint "pop" behind him.

Jollis reacted immediately. He spun around, going into a defensive stance designed to disarm an opponent before any weapon could reach his flesh. His hands and legs would move in perfect concert. Not even a single breath would be taken by his assailant before he was on the floor writhing in pain from a broken arm or jaw.

Thus he was momentarily at a loss for a proper reaction when instead he felt an oily substance splash against his cheek and forehead.

"Merchant, I'm terribly sorry!" Lanno exclaimed as he put the now nearly empty vial on the treatment table next to the slave. The slave looked on in bemusement, but said nothing. Instead, she simply cradled her "hurt" arm as she had been instructed to do at this point.

"Lanno, you oaf!" Vanlo snapped. "I told you that stopper was on tight, did I not?"

"It is all good," Jollis said as he backed up a step. He brought a hand to his cheek and touched his fingertips to the salve. They came away glistening with the milky substance. He rubbed it between his fingers. It was oily at first, but began to gel into something more sticky. "I am apparently unharmed by the 'assault, '" he added with an amused smile.

"Here, Jollis," Vanlo said, handing the merchant a towel. "I am so sorry for this. If I had known my assistant was going to be such an utter clod, I would have conducted our transaction in the reception area."

Jollis wiped the substance from his cheek and forehead. It was growing more viscous the more it was exposed to the air. "It is quite all right, Healer. No harm was done, and accidents do happen to the best of us."

"Thank you for understanding. Oh, you have a bit in your hair..."

Jollis furrowed his brow. "If you would direct me to a mirror..."

"Please, allow me." Vanlo took the towel from him and wiped at the smear of salve in Jollis' dark hair. Or tried to, for the moment the towel touched it, the towel was stuck fast. The Healer gave it a tug. Jollis blinked once as he felt some hairs pulled out. Vanlo frowned and examined the towel intently after getting it detached from Jollis' head. He whirled around in anger. "Lanno!"

"What have I done now?" Lanno retorted in irritation.

"Did you mix this salve?"

"Yes, I did. What of it?"

"You did it wrong, that is what of it. It is too thick and too sticky." He thrust an arm towards the back room. "Go get another from the batch that I made myself. The batch that was made right."

Lanno fumed and stomped out of the room.

Vanlo sighed again and turned back to Jollis. "Again, I am most sorry for this. Rest assured that a little soap and water will take out the rest of that paste."

"It is not a concern, Healer," Jollis said. He opened the pouch he still held and counted the pieces. He smiled. "I believe our transaction is concluded. Please do not hesitate to call on me again if you need to."

"Of course. Thank you for your patience, Master Jollis, and a good day to you."

Jollis bowed his head. "Good day to you as well, Master Vanlo."

The merchant turned and headed out of the Healer office.

Vanlo stepped forward and peered into the reception area. He waited until Jollis was gone before turning back towards the room. He smiled to Kirra. "Thank you, my dear, for helping us."

"Did I do well, Master Vanlo?" she asked, letting her arms relax.

"Indeed you did. Wait here about a candlemark, and then you may leave."

"Yes, Master."

Vanlo headed into the back room, carrying the towel. There, Lanno stood, arms folded. He glowered at the older Healer.

"Yes?" Vanlo said.

"Can we not do a ruse like that again?" Lanno said in irritation. "I'm getting a little tired of being on the receiving end of your invective, no matter how fake it was supposed to be."

"I am quite sorry, Lanno. But it helped play on what Jollis had witnessed earlier. I hope to have no need to repeat it."

Vanlo had sounded sincere enough in his regret that Lanno was mollified. "So did it work? Did we get what we needed?"

Vanlo smiled and showed Lanno the towel. Stuck to the cloth were five strands of dark hair. "Quite more than enough for our purposes. I believe we succeeded in our ruse."

"I certainly hope we did. Vanlo, did you see how fast he turned around? I didn't think anyone could move that fast!"

Vanlo nodded gravely as he set the towel down on the table. "Indeed. It would suggest he is more than just the merchant that he claims to be. While merchants pride themselves on self defense to protect them on the roads, I have never seen one take it to that level. I shudder to think what would have happened had we actually intended to attack him at that point."

Lanno picked up the towel and looked at the hairs himself. "Either case, I'm glad we got this done."

"I could not have done it without you."

Lanno gave Vanlo a surprised look, which grew even more so when he saw the older Healer extend a hand towards him.

The handshake held a much greater significance on Narlass than it did on Earth. It was generally reserved as a sign of renewed or regained trust, especially in the context of reconciliation. Lanno never expected this to come from Vanlo.

Lanno did not hesitate once he recognized it for what it was. He thrust his hand forward and clasped Vanlo's firmly. He felt Vanlo's fingers tighten around his, and they held it for a few moments as their eyes met.

Once their hands parted, Vanlo took the towel. "Now, let us take care of our remaining patients quickly," he said. "As we have some important work to do."

There was a soft knock on Janna's door.

"Enter!" Janna snapped, turning from the mirror where she was adjusting her dress.

The door opened and Tarras leaned his head in.

"Mind telling me where you've been this morning?" said Janna, annoyed.

Tarras gave Janna a tiny smile and stepped into the room. "From your tone, one would think you were my wife instead of my lover."

Janna snorted and folded her arms, though a hint of a smile did curl her lips. "Very funny. Seriously, Tarras, I woke up to an empty bed. I immediately checked your room, but you were not even there."

One corner of Tarras' mouth tugged upwards.

"What?" Janna demanded.

"You said you checked on me immediately. I am sorry my dear, but the image of you walking about the halls with little or nothing on was an amusing one."

"I sent a slave to check on you." Janna paused and then smirked. "Amusing? Is that all you would find it?"

Tarras closed the door behind him and stepped over to her. "As much as I would love to respond to that with all manner of bawdy yet gentlemanly comebacks, there is an urgent matter I need to discuss with you."

"Now? But the Caucus is convening in less than a candlemark. Can we discuss it on the way?"

Janna moved towards the door without waiting for a reply. Tarras gently caught her arm. She whirled around and looked at him oddly.

"Our movements are being tracked."

Janna blinked. "Tracked? What are you talking about, Tarras?"

He described to her what he had done that morning. "You see, I believe when Q'yros detects that someone is moving towards a critical location, he Farviews the guards and sends them to intercept the straying Lord."

"But why would the training grounds be a critical location? It's not like we don't already know he's forming an army."

"That is another matter I need to address, but it will keep. The fact that I was tracked at all is the more critical issue."

"Wait a minute. How can he be tracking us? He would need to use magic for that."

"Hmm. That would be my assumption. Are you magic sensitive, Janna?"

"A little. Just enough to be able to detect it if there were a residual charge on my person. And I detect nothing."

Tarras nodded. He had sensed nothing either. Most Lords learned how to sense such a thing for their own protection. But it was very limited. Magic on the person could be detected, and obvious magic on objects held in the hand could be detected, but more subtle manifestations could not.

"He has hidden it or otherwise masked it, then," said Tarras.

"Him? Q'yros, you mean? I know he's powerful, Tarras, but I would know if he had placed a tracking spell on me. Magic is terribly hard to disguise from one's own body, you know that as well as I do."

Tarras nodded again. This was a true statement. There were many stories in legend of Mages that would weave bewitchments on the unwary and influence them with magic without their knowledge. Such things were myths. A victim was always aware of when magic was used on his or her person, regardless of whether the spell was successful or not.

"Then we have a dilemma, it would seem," said Tarras. "It is obvious that we are being monitored in some way, and until we know how and how to get around it, attempting to procure the information for Duric will have to wait."

Janna sighed. One of the reasons she had been growing tense of late was that Duric had been Farviewing her daily asking about her progress. "Do we even know where to get it? I have not a clue where such information would be kept."

"I am more familiar with the layout of this Palace. I believe I know where such a thing would be kept. It is likely guarded. Even if you could go about undetected, there would need to be a way to get past the guards."

Janna nodded, then glanced at the timepiece above the mantle. "Further discussion will have to wait," Janna said, grabbing Tarras' hand. "We need to get to the Caucus."

"I quite agree," said Tarras as he quickly drew alongside her. "Assuming the vote goes as expected, I will be curious as to the Emperor's reaction."

The vote was carried out with little fanfare. Lord Uras did not even bother to call a complete roll. He instead simply asked if anyone objected to the petition as it stood. No one voiced an objection, thus the petition was finalized.

Emperor Z'haas entered the Caucus chamber to equally little fanfare, either from his own contingent that waited in the hallway outside or from the assembled Lords. The Emperor's face was stony and his gaze hard and penetrating. He swept it about the Nobility as he turned upon reaching his seat. He regarded them with something near contempt as he took his seat in the midst of their silence.

The other Lords returned his gaze with ones that ranged from indignant to bored. Nevertheless, the sovereign's entrance managed to capture everyone's attention, even if that was simply to render silence unto the Emperor.

But then silence can speak volumes as well.

No one said a word or made a move until the Emperor's guards closed the great double doors. There was a sparkle as a magical enchantment activated, sealing off any leakage of sound through the doors. The final session of the Caucus was intended to be private. Even the records would be sealed for a certain amount of time until the crisis had passed before being given to the historical archivers.

Lord Uras rose.

"We are honored to have your most exalted presence at this last day of the Sixth Caucus of the Noble Lords of Oceanus, and we graciously offer our appreciation for your attendance."

Janna was a bit taken by that statement for two reasons. For one, it was amazing to her that, in all Oceanus' history, there had been only five Caucuses before this one. That was an interesting statement about the stability of Oceanus up until this point.

The other thing that struck her was the tone of Uras' statement. It was purely duty-bound. There was no real sentiment behind it. The words rang hollow, as if the breach was so bad that he already knew nothing would mend it.

She glanced over to Z'haas. He did not appear to react at all, other than to cast a cold look towards the Noble Lord. Uras returned it with one of his own as he picked up a scroll, and at that point Janna realized that all pretense would be dropped from this point on.

Uras unrolled the scroll and began to read.

"We, the Noble Lords of Oceanus, after thorough discussion and debate, have come to a unanimous decision, to wit: That we demand that you, Emperor Fenric Z'haas, Emperor of Oceanus, agree to a redress of our grievances as is our right under the Charter of Oceanus Union. These grievance are as follows:

"One: That the Emperor has conducted or is about to conduct a war of aggression against another nation-state without due consultation with the Nobility.