Chapter 16

Standing just inside his quarters, Jollis silently contemplated the words of the Cohort. Finally, "Why?"

The Cohort folded his hands before him. "Are you asking me for my personal opinion, my Wanderer?"

"Yes. Make your assessment based on your knowledge of the Urisi."

"It is difficult to say for sure, Master. We as a people have had few dealings with them. Hence, the plan."

"Do not be evasive. I fully understand where your knowledge is limited."

The Cohort bowed his head. "As you wish. They have learned of the presence of a foreign influence in Oceanus and wish to help defend against this threat."

"This assumes that they have some critical piece of information, such as our Portals. Yet there has been no contact between the Oceanus Mage Guild and the Urisi that we know of."

"We have been monitoring all approaches by land and by sea to the Mage Guild, Master," said the Cohort. "It is possible that more direct contact was attempted, but given how insular the Mage Guild is under its current leadership, this seems a remote possibility. It is more likely that they learned of this information from the Emperor himself or someone in his court."

"The latter is more likely. The Emperor is too paranoid to share information with others."

The Cohort nodded. "What is clear, my Wanderer, is that the Urisi do know of a foreign presence, if not necessarily its influence." He withdrew a blue pearl from his pocket and held it perched upon his palm.

Jollis narrowed his eyes on the pearl. He made no more to take it. His gaze lifted to the Cohort's face. "A Farviewing pearl?"

"Yes, Master. Bound to the Urisi Ambassador currently at the D'ronstaq Manor. He wishes you to contact him. He claims, quote, 'it could be in our mutual best interest to talk.'"

Jollis plucked the pearl from the Cohort's hand. He noted the careful choice of words, specifically the word "could." In diplomatic discourse, it was a world of difference from the word "would." The former implied a neutral meeting of peers. The latter implied a threat.

"The presence of this pearl partially substantiates a basic premise of your assessment," said Jollis.

"I should note, Master, that he asked for you specifically by name."

"Then your case is even stronger. Regardless, the developments at the Imperium warrant concern. An influx of fresh war materials from the Urisi will hasten the Imperial campaign."

"Still, Master, will they not pursue a coastal strategy?"

"It would seem the logical course of action, yes, assuming that the Emperor continues to let his soldiers to their job without interference. We must continue to press Overlord Freya to provide us more of her experienced slaves."

The Cohort nodded. "Does she still continue to pressure you into accepting her recent Trainees?"

Jollis frowned. "She grows more tiresome by the day. She has been told that I will accept a sizable number of them only once. It is being arranged as we speak."

"How inexperienced are they, Master?"

Jollis scowled. "Virtually brand new Captives. Plucked from their homeworlds within a quarter moon with little care for the emotional pain their absence will cause others and Draughted to forget their past lives with even less regard for the Captives themselves. To say that such a thing is distasteful would be a vast understatement."

"Agreed."

Jollis let out a slow sigh. "Enough. Lamenting over this injustice distracts us from the very thing intended to correct it. Thank you for your wisdom."

The Cohort bowed. "Will you be contacting the Urisi Ambassador, my Wanderer?"

"I have not yet decided."

"Is not our ultimate goal to contact the Urisi anyway, Master?"

"Yes, but not until our plans in Oceanus have come to fruition and we are in control. It would come as a surprise, and our generous offer would set their internal factions upon one another and sow confusion. It would make the next phase of our plans easier." He held up the pearl briefly. "This is a new complication in those plans."

"I understand better now, my Wanderer. Thank you for enlightening me. I have one other piece of news. Our Cohorts at Talrad Pass have yet to intercept the Emperor's Master Agent."

"Was there not a report of a sighting of the Agent?"

"Yes. But they lost his trail soon after."

Jollis nodded solemnly. "Very well. Now, if there is nothing else, I need solitude in which to meditate on recent events."

The Cohort bowed his head and left.

The Master Agent staggered, his legs trembling with fatigue, muscles strained and aching. His shaking hand groped for the wall, flesh scraped raw and bleeding from the jagged rock. His hand lost purchase, pain lancing into his bruised and battered body when he struck the wall.

His laboring breath echoed eerily into the shrinking circle of stark black. The edges wavered as the meager flame in his oil lamp struggled in the thin air. He swallowed and winced at the pain in his parched throat. He leaned his back against the wall of the mine shaft, his hand reaching for his hip and finding nothing but his torn clothing.

The Master Agent knew he was fading. That was the third time he had forgotten that he had used up the last of the water in his gourd and had left it behind to shed extra weight from his weakening frame.

He had already spent far more time in the old mine shafts than he had intended. Cave-ins thwarted a direct path. His own impromptu spelunking had triggered another, the result a purpled and misshapen arm that he could barely lift. It was agony to hold the lamp, but the pain helped him see through the growing haze in his mind.

The Master Agent waited until he realized there was little more air to be had. He pushed himself away from the wall and summoned his last reserves.

He had taken no more than a few steps when his foot fetched against something unyielding. His leg folded and pitched him hard to the rocky floor. The lamp left his hand. Its light was doused even before the unremarkable smash of broken glass.

The Master Agent lay panting into the dirt in the absolute dark and shivered with the thought of impending death. He forced himself to his hands and knees, his gaze towards the floor.

It took a moment for him to realize that he could actually see his hands.

He thought perhaps he was hallucinating. He forced himself to his knees and raised his hands closer to his face. Yes, he could see them. They were only vague outlines, but he should not be seeing anything.

He lifted his head. A hazy light glowed in the distance. Something gently brushed his face. When he took his next breath, fresh air swelled his lungs and chased the cobwebs from his mind.

With a grunt, the Master Agent stood.

"This is getting us nowhere, Q'garra!"

Uroddus walked once around the periphery of the Portal device, tapping his quill against his chin. He stared into the swirls of energy coruscating around the central gemstone, then scratched something onto the parchment.

"Will you stop doing that for one moment? That noise drives me insane."

Uroddus stopped, sighed, and tucked the quill behind his ear.

Q'yros frowned. "And that makes you look ridiculous."

"Master Q'yros, this is the only way I know to conduct further research," said the Journeyman. "These foreign Portals are based on the empirical science of thought extraction and imprinting. But first we must know the formulae by which normal Portals operate."

"Should we not be focusing on the mind magic part first?" Q'yros still felt a strange taste in his mouth to say such things. It was hard for him to think seriously on a subject that he had formerly classified as pseudomagic.

Uroddus' gaze was distracted by something he saw in the patterns of energy moving between the two reflectors and the crystal cage encasing the gem heart. "Mind Magic is a very broad discipline," he said, extracting the quill from behind his ear. "We would not know where to begin. If we can compute the Portal side first, it will narrow our search in the Mind Magic discipline."

Scratch-scratch-scratch. Q'yros' hands clenched his staff until the knuckles went white.

Uroddus looked up. "You know what will make this endeavor go faster."

"No," declared Q'yros.

"I do not understand your continued objection. Surely someone of your influence could convince the others to work with my fellow Empiricists."

"I said no when you first proposed it, and that will not change no matter how many times you browbeat me about it."

Uroddus frowned and stepped away from the Portal device. "Master Q'yros, with all due respect, your stand makes little sense. Really, you're acting no better than the Guildmaster. He kept us from examining the artifact for so long and never revealed more than a fraction of what he knew."

"I will not debate this matter with you," Q'yros declared. "We cannot call in anyone else on this matter, as it will risk upsetting the Guildmaster."

Uroddus slipped off his spectacles. "And why should that be a concern?"

"Because I am not interested in moving against the Guildmaster, and you should not be, either!"

"And why not?"

Q'yros stared, aghast.

"Why is that such a heinous idea? Have there not been previous occasions in the history of the Guild where a change of leadership was called for by the others?"

"This is not one of those times!"

"But everything that you have told me, and everything that you have done since we first started working together convinces me more every day that Guildmaster Q'ixanna needs to step down."

Q'yros' eyes glazed. "Do not say such a thing!"

Uroddus was stunned into silence.

Q'yros gripped the staff hard so that the trembling in his hands would not show. He fixed a look upon the younger Mage that sought to channel as much fury as possible to disguise the fear. "This is not the time for such rebellious thoughts. We cannot afford such turmoil at the Guild at this time. We will work with Q'ixanna as much as we are able. If he blocks us, we will find a way around it. Quietly."

Uroddus tapped his spectacles against the parchment in silent consideration.

Q'yros frowned. "You will get the notion out of your head right now that I have any desire to usurp power in this Guild. Or that I intend to usurp it by proxy."

The younger Mage looked surprised. "Master Q'yros, I did not mean to imply that you specifically wished to..."

"But that is what people will think! And I cannot afford that right now."

Uroddus could understand this. The other Mages had been mystified of late of Q'yros' apparent kowtowing to an unpopular Guildmaster. To hear he was organizing other Mages without Q'ixanna's knowledge would make them think it had been a cover all along to foment a sort of coup.

Q'yros' fear was still a mystery. He could see it despite the older Mage's best efforts. Was he afraid of Q'ixanna? Even if the old Guildmaster exercised his right to be deposed only via a Mage Duel, Uroddus was sure that Q'yros could best the ancient Mage.

"Very well, Master Q'yros," said Uroddus. "I will drop the matter."

Q'yros looked relieved. "Now, let's target this Portal and see if you can learn anything from that."

Emperor Z'haas leapt from the throne. "He was found yesterday?"

"Yes, my Emperor, he arrived at camp of an Imperial patrol stationed near..."

"Why was I not informed?"

Every day, Q'holan's respect and awe for Q'yros increased. To have stood up to the Emperor for as long without going mad was nothing short of astonishing. "He is badly injured, my Emperor. He is dehydrated and has lost much blood. He..."

Z'haas surged down from the dais. "I want him here. I want him in my audience chamber. I must speak with him at once! Do you understand? At once!"

"He cannot be moved, my Emperor. His Healer will not allow it."

"Then has he said anything? Has he been debriefed?"

"His Healer will not allow him to be questioned extensively, not until the worst of his injuries have partially healed. He will not even let him take a Farview."

"The dolt," the Emperor muttered. "Of course he cannot take a Farview! No one has a pearl tied to him."

The Master Agent was such in every sense of the word. There was a reason he was known only by his title. No one alive appeared to know his real name. He had no pearls spelled to him in any way. He was completely untraceable and undetectable.

The Emperor forced himself to take a deep breath. Though he lowered his voice when he next spoke, it had done little to calm him. "Then if he cannot come to me, I will go to him."

"I doubt his Healer will allow visitors, my Emperor."

"I will not be asking his permission. Power the Imperial Portal at once. I will find the answers I want."

Q'holan was unsure exactly what the Master Agent could tell the Emperor that they had not already learned. Wasn't this just a simple case of the agent having failed in his mission due to a more resourceful opponent? But he knew better than to attempt to question the increasingly unstable Z'haas.

"It will be done, my Emperor!" Q'holan declared before he fled. The Emperor did not even chide him for failing to observe the proper protocol for requesting permission to leave.

The Great Training Chamber was located behind Freya's quarters, across another short bridge and surrounded by paths that extended like rays of the sun to other parts of the Manor. Inside, it was a larger version of Freya's own chamber.

Freya lounged upon furs of deep royal violet, looking out over the occupants of the room like a Queen observing her subjects, but arranged like a harlot awaiting her illicit suitor. One leg was bent at the knee, her foot buried in the plush furs. Her other leg lay straight. Her dress had fallen away from her sex.

Three of her male slaves stood side-by-side in a line away from their Mistress, soft moans and gentle pants escaping their lips. Each of their engorged manhoods slid eagerly -- sometimes feverishly -- within hungry mouths. The newly collared slaves at their feet were mere babes. The oldest could not have seen more than fifteen years. Yet they performed their task as if it were something they had been doing all their lives.

New, more urgent sounds joined those of the young men. The nubile girls uttered increasingly desperate nasal gasps, their hips writhing and their thighs trembling. Moisture steamed in their nether regions. Hands strained against cuffs as their aching need mounted.

A statuesque older woman strolled behind them. She would occasionally stop by one of the girls and make a correction in her technique, or fan the flames of her unrequited desire further by cupping a breast or sliding a hand along the inside of her thigh. Behind her, two more young female slaves stood, shifting their feet, eyes wide with excitement, curiosity, and growing lust.

Freya let out a slow, sultry sigh. Her hand slipped over her damp pussy, a single finger teasing her folds. She was excited far beyond the sight of the training. It was beyond even her plans for revenge upon Roquan, or the trade deal with Jollis, or her future plans with the Urisi.

She had gone beyond changing the rules, she had changed the nature of the game itself. The ability to tap the Oceanus peasantry for slave fodder would so drastically reduce her costs that it would be virtually all profit. She knew the risks. She had discovered the increasing suspicion of the Healer Guild. No matter. The Urisi would be more than willing to give her what she needed.

Besides, the Far West would be eating out of her hand once they received this batch of slaves soon. She was sure that their lack of experience would be overlooked in favor of their intense sexual appetites.

Freya let out another husky sigh. She pointed to one of the two standing behind her Trainer and gestured.

The girl trotted over to her Overlord, eyes filled with dark lust. Freya smiled and swung her legs over the side of her lounge. She lifted her dress further and spread her feet apart.

The girl stepped forward and carefully dropped to her knees, her hands cuffed behind her like the others. Only a few days ago, she had been a shy and properly modest girl that would turn away in blushing embarrassment at the most innocuous comments on her beauty and avert her eyes at the sight of the most platonic kiss.

Now her sex now oozed in wanton desire, and she panted in anticipation as Freya pulled her face towards the Overlord's pussy. Freya smiled and closed her eyes, draping an arm over her head upon her pillow as the young girl's tongue licked at her folds. The remaining girl looked on in envy.

Freya actually did imagine herself as royalty of a sort. Perhaps that is the direction she would take the Overlords when she had gained the influence that she so craved. Why not? The Noble Lords were sure to be weakened when the war was over. And thanks to her, the Overlords would have other markets to explore. They would no longer be so dependent on the Oceanus Nobility.

Pleasure rose inside the Overlord beyond that provided by her slave's tongue.

The Healer stood, his face a carefully crafted mask of both respect and righteous indignation as his Emperor swept into the room. Upon the bed, the Master Agent attempted to lift his head in respectful, if shamed, greeting to his sovereign.

"Greetings and good health to you, my Emperor," said the Healer in a crisp voice as he bowed. "And with all due respect, I protest this visit. My patient requires..."

"Your protest has been noted," said the Emperor, eyes sharp as diamonds. "Now get out."

The Healer appeared shocked by the rebuke but held his ground. His eyes slid past the Emperor towards the servant behind him, who carried an elegant wooden box closed with a jeweled clasp. "And what is this, my Emperor?" asked the Healer warily, nodding his head.

"That is none of your concern."

"It very well is my concern if you insist on visiting my patient before he is able and at this late an hour of the evening."

"And if you wish to continue being his Healer, you will step outside and will refrain from listening on this conversation."

The Healer raised an eyebrow. He knew of the bloody purge that this Emperor had done at the Imperium. Thus the threat could mean anything from "I will remove you as his Healer" to "you will be executed for your intransigence."

The Healer uttered a sigh carefully crafted to show his disapproval without appearing disrespectful. "Very well, my Emperor. I implore that you do not overtax him, as he is still weak and receiving regular restorative draughts for his blood loss."

"So noted," said Z'haas, though increasing irritation was creeping into his voice.

The Healer bowed his head and left.

The Master Agent struggled to sit up to make a properly respectful greeting. He winced as pain flared in his still tortured body. The Emperor looked on impassively, even expectantly. He did nothing until the Master Agent had bowed his head reverently.

Z'haas let him hold it for a few moments before finally acknowledging it. The Master Agent settled back with a grunt and a renewed flare of pain. "I have failed you, my Emperor," said the Master Agent solemnly.

The Emperor's eyes were cool and unsympathetic. "Yes, you have. But you yet may salvage your mission in some small way."

"I will do anything I can, my Emperor."

"You will start by telling me why you failed. Why did you not take out this foreign agent? Why did you let him elude your grasp?"

"I did indeed have him in my grasp, my Emperor. I had set and baited the trap, and he was delivering himself into it. I had not anticipated the skill and cleverness of his associates,"

The Emperor narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

"He and his ilk were unlike any other agents I had come across, my Emperor," said the Master Agent, his voice pained not just from his injuries. "They commanded greater resources and greater experience than I could envision. I offer this only as an explanation and not as an excuse, my Emperor."

"We will get to that later. I am concerned only with this agent that outwitted you."

The Master Agent frowned. "My Emperor, I had never seen such confidence as exuded by him and his associates. The way they maintained such a cool, calculating approach to their task even in the face of potential defeat was amazing."

Z'haas' face hardened, his eyes pinpoints of quiet but escalating fury. He raised an arm and gestured without looking behind him. The servant swiftly stepped forward. "Open it."

The servant dutifully undid the clasp and lifted the lid. Z'haas let out an audible breath through his nose, one that hinted at both anger and anguish as he reached into the box and gently lifted out a glass orb.

The Master Agent looked on curiously as the Emperor cradled the orb in his hands. Like Q'yros before him, the Master Agent knew Mage Glass when he saw it. But he was more taken with what it preserved.

In the center of the orb was a cracked and slightly charred blue pearl.

"This is a former Farviewing pearl," said the Emperor in a surprisingly somber voice. "Preserved soon after the one to whom it was bound died a violent death. It holds the memory of the final Farview audience of my brother, and is a witness to his death."

The Master Agent's lips parted in surprise. He had heard the story of how the Emperor's brother, a Lord General in an expeditionary force sent to assist the Colosians in rooting out insurgents, had been killed by an infiltrator in his headquarters and his wife executed as a collaborator. He had no idea that an actual record had existed.

The Emperor sat and held the orb before him. "Watch carefully. I fear that this may very likely be the last performance I will get from this pearl, as even the Mage Glass has its limits."

The Master Agent sat up and leaned forward, ignoring the pain. The Emperor waved a hand over the orb, and the old recording began to play.

The Master Agent witnessed the start of a Farview conversation between the Emperor and Kenris V'haas. He recognized the Lord General immediately. He watched as the conversation was interrupted by a flash of light and a clap of thunder. He recognized that as well. A Portal had just opened.