Chapter 4

"Another early-morning raid by the rebels, my Lord," said the shimmering Farview image of the wild-eyed young commander. "Seven men killed. We formed a defensive line as ordered but no follow-up attack came. We catapulted their last known positions, but we don't know if they took any casualties, my Lord."

Rithas V'honna wiped his haggard face with a beefy hand and uttered a sigh through his fingers. He dropped his hand noisily to his side and puffed out his broad chest as he always did when he wanted to look confident. Instead, what he wanted to do was wince.

He hated his new title. "Lord General" sounded too much like royalty for his tastes and conveyed a sense of power that he did not have. Though he had high hopes when it had been bestowed upon him by Emperor Z'haas shortly after the aborted attempt by Duric's army to take the Imperial Palace.

"What direction did the attack come from, Commander?" Rithas asked in clipped tones.

"Almost due west, my Lord. The patrol we sent out to search for enemy casualties did turn up something, however. It..."

"Let me guess," Rithas said sourly. "You saw evidence of a major movement of troops through the area."

"Yes, my Lord. Which is why we were stymied as to why they did not follow up the raid. Clearly it was a probing attack as a prelude to a general offensive."

Rithas gritted his teeth.

"My Lord, I have a full legion under my command and two more I can call in reserve. Please give me leave to mount an offensive. I am sure I can root them out and send a spearhead to Lord K'yonna's realm. I am positive he is at the head of the supply line for..."

"You will remain where you are, and remain in defensive posture," Rithas said stiffly.

The young Commander sighed. "Yes, my Lord."

"I will take your suggestion to the Emperor and see if he will release the forces for offensive action."

The Commander dutifully, if tonelessly, responded, "Yes, my Lord."

"Is there anything else?"

"No, my Lord."

"Then we are concluded."

The Commander's image faded and vanished.

Rithas' jaw tightened as he turned and headed down the dank corridor. At the end was a large door. The guards saluted him with their swords and stepped to either side. With a grunt, Rithas pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.

As soon he crossed the threshold, sharp footfalls approached him. A shorter, somewhat thin man with a balding pate and a hawk-like nose frowned deeply as he came to a stop, his cloak of deep purple swirling about his legs for another moment in the still, stale air.

"You are late," he declared.

"My sincerest apologies, my Emperor," said Rithas, struggling to keep the sarcastic tone from his voice. "I was unavoidably detained."

Emperor Fenric Z'haas clasped his hands behind his back and walked back to the large wooden table in the center of the room. This room had once belonged to Q'yros when he had been the Emperor's advisor. The remnants of the broken stone table had been removed and the chamber turned into a situation room. A large map of Oceanus was spread out over the table.

On either side, several adjuncts to the Lord General stood at rigid attention, eyes twitching and glazed.

Z'haas thrust a finger at the map. "I want to know what you are doing about the southern incursion."

Rithas stepped forward. "There is nothing to be done, my Emperor. They are skirmishes only. No ground is gained by the enemy."

"And the west? What about the west? How is it holding?"

Rithas heard the hint of desperation in the Emperor's voice. He glanced at his adjuncts. It was clear they had been subjected to another disjointed tirade by Z'haas in his absence. He felt for them. "Holding well, as always. In fact, so well that we don't need all the legions we have there."

The Emperor turned and narrowed his eyes. "This will not be another attempt to convince me to go on a foolish and dangerous campaign."

"Perish the thought, " said Rithas. He had to stop himself from following it with the words "that we should do something useful." Instead, he took a moment to find a way to better phrase his feelings. "But you must agree that we do need to go on the offensive at some point."

"At some point. And I alone will decide when that is!"

"Of course, my Emperor."

"We cannot let down our defenses, Lord General. Duric has forces arrayed to the west and south of us to box us in. He is determined to blunt our approach that way."

"Ah, yes, about that. I believe I may have some good news for you in that regard. I believe we have been subjected to a ruse, my Emperor."

An eyebrow rose. "A ruse?"

"We have been led to believe that Duric has at least a full legion, perhaps two. I contend that he has nothing more than two, maybe three brigades."

The Emperor frowned deeply. He grabbed a sheaf of parchments from the table and shook them under Rithas' nose. "That is not what the intelligence reports are saying!"

"Yes, my Emperor, that is part of the ruse. The sheer abundance of reports is itself suspicious."

Z'haas let the hand carrying the pages drop. "Explain yourself."

"Duric is an able leader and inspires men under him. He also knows how to place competent people in positions of power. These are not people that would be this careless or this clumsy. Yet we would believe that they continually give away their plans, and that we manage to thwart their attacks at every turn."

The Emperor was silent. Rithas hated having to explain everything to him. He sorely wished Z'haas left soldiering to the soldiers. But the Emperor was so paranoid about anyone moving against him that any major movement of troops had to have his personal authorization, and only after a detailed plan had been submitted for his review ahead of time.

"What purpose would this serve, Lord General?" Z'haas brandished the papers. "Why attempt this deception?"

"To do exactly what it has done, my Emperor, which is to tie down our forces in a defensive perimeter and prevent a serious offensive."

Absolute silence followed. Rithas braced himself.

Z'haas sneered and threw the pages down at the General's feet. "This is exactly what I had suspected. You are indeed going to push your agenda on me. Your Northern Corridor Incursion foolishness!"

Rithas could not keep the tension from his voice. "My Emperor, I again state that it is the most viable military option we have. The Appalanchian provinces are lightly defended, and Duric's forces cannot reach them without us knowing. But they have put out a call to arms, and each quarter moon that passes gives them that much more time to prepare."

"But you would leave the Imperial provinces undefended!"

"No, my Emperor. Duric's armies are still in Keyas and cannot get here in time."

"I am talking about the forces he has pressing against our southern and western..."

"There are no forces, my Emperor. Or at least none of any substance as I have just explained."

The Emperor hesitated. Rithas held out some hope. Had he finally gotten through?

Z'haas planted his hands on the edge of the table, staring at the map for a long moment. "Are you sure of this, Lord General?"

Rithas quickly came alongside the Emperor, seizing the moment. "If you are still unsure, my Emperor, I would suggest this..."

He snapped his fingers and reached out a hand. The nearest adjunct handed him a slim pole. Rithas used it to push some counters on the map that represented Imperial legions. "A brief thrust to the west, where the bulk of the attacks are coming from. Just one legion. We have two in reserve nearby. If I'm right, then..."

He thrust the pole forward. The counters were shoved past the red line representing the borders of the occupied provinces and towards a prominent landmark.

" ... we will plow through this valley, meeting little resistance, and take this Noble Lord's palace. This will have the side-effect of securing a key north-south road and further isolate the north."

The Emperor stared at the counter representing his precious legion. "And if you're wrong, Lord General?"

"Then we fall back. At no time will we give the enemy a chance to counterattack. And if you wish, I will resign, and you can exile me for incompetence."

Rithas almost hoped his plan would fail. He almost preferred exile to dealing with Z'haas.

The Emperor drew himself up. "Very well, Lord General. You have my permission for the use of one legion. And only one, Lord General. Do not attempt to take advantage of my generosity by overstepping your bounds."

"Of course not, my Emperor," Rithas said to the already retreating back of Z'haas.

He waited until the Emperor had left, the door thudding shut behind him. All his adjuncts were abruptly freed from their self-imposed paralysis and attempted to talk at once.

"My Lord! Does this mean we finally can take some offensive..."

"My Lord, do you realize this will alert Duric's army as to our..."

"Are you sure one legion is enough, my Lord? If this is not a ruse, and we..."

"Duric is sure to react, my Lord, surely we..."

"Enough!" Rithas shouted. "I am well aware of the risks. Yes, this will reveal our long term plans. Yes, there's a chance I'm wrong about the size of the forces around us or the position of Duric's real armies. But this is the best I could get out of the Emperor."

"Should the Northern Plan be altered, my Lord?" asked one of them.

Rithas strolled around the side of the table and looked down at the northern half of the map, where he had sketched in details of his military plan.

It was already intended to be quick. A lightning strike to the north and northeast up the coast, then a sharp turn to the northwest to secure a critical road junction, and then west and southwest to trap the remaining defenders against the mountains.

He shook his head. "No. This is still the best plan we have using the strengths of the Imperial legions against whatever rabble they can come up with. They have nowhere near the inspiring leaders in Appalanchia as Duric."

"What of the Overlords, my Lord? They've already used a Portal once to assist in moving troops."

"Their previous ruse was contingent on its covertness. It would not have been attempted if the plan had been discovered. I have plans to send small bands of soldiers to the Manors and..."

"Garrison them?" said an adjunct in alarm.

"Observe them," Rithas said, giving the man a withering look. "They will remain outside the Manor but very obviously present. It should be enough to deter the Overlords from attempting the same trick."

There was a relieved nodding of heads around the table.

Rithas knew he could not risk breaking tradition. Overlord Manors were considered sacrosanct, and not to be coerced in any way by Noble or Imperial. But now that they had used their Portals to aid the Nobility in their rebellion, he felt justified in bringing some intimidation to bear. But this was all he dared do.

"That is all for now," Rithas said. He turned away and headed out of the chamber.

The merchant Jollis wore a mask of serenity as he strolled through the D'yoran Manor towards the Overlord's office. A cold autumn wind blew at his robe, swirling it about his feet, a drying leaf occasionally catching in its folds. Strands of jet-black hair wavered before his cool eyes. Leaden clouds gathered overhead and tinged the air with moisture.

He had received little in the way of good news thus far. His operatives near the Mage Guild could tell him nothing. Whatever research they were doing into the Inonni Portal technology was still kept a guarded secret. His Cohorts were having trouble accumulating the sum he had requested of them. Imperial agents had infiltrated nearly everywhere and were watching the D'yoran Manor. The civil war remained stalemated, with little movement on either side, thus avoiding the chaos that would have given his operation better cover.

He knew there was a risk to Imperial movement. He felt he had a margin of safety. A likely northern invasion route would be far to the east of the Manor, on the other side of the mountains.

Jollis stepped into the reception area of Gronnus' domain.

In the fore chamber, two female slaves sat on an opulent sofa, slowly teasing each other's sex and moaning in strident abandon. They smiled at him, never pausing. Jollis smiled back, though it was forced.

The merchant thought this a rather distasteful show of Overlord power. Gronnus hand-picked two girls every morning to sit outside his office and spend much of the day moaning in pleasure for his benefit. It was a silly ritual in his view, a further example of how rotten the whole Overlord system had become.

Jollis advanced past them and approached the door. By that time, the sound of the two slaves had been thoroughly drowned out by a loud harangue. Jollis waited patiently, listening to the Overlord's voice go from searing rage to impassioned plea to frustrated acceptance of another lost contract.

When silence fell and it was clear that the Farview audience was over, Jollis allowed himself in. He folded his hands before him. "Good day, my Lord. I have..."

Gronnus spun around and shook a thick finger in his face. "You! This is all your fault!"

Jollis fell silent and regarded the Overlord with an even gaze.

"You're the reason I'm losing these contracts. You've taken all my best slaves. No more, Jollis! No more!"

Jollis allowed himself a small bit of sympathy for the beleaguered Overlord, though it was tempered by the man's dreadful appearance.

Stress had aged this Overlord as it had Roquan, but the merchant was given to understand that Roquan had managed to retain his impressive physique. This was not so with Gronnus. While he had never been in top shape, he had let himself go rather badly. He sported a pot belly now, and his face had thickened, his jowls sagging. His hair was always unkempt.

Jollis believed that age and stress were never excuses for at least making the attempt to look one's best, especially when dealing with clients.

Gronnus met Jollis' silence with puerile rage. "Jollis, you give me back all those slaves you took from me. You will do it now. I am nearly insolvent. I have debts I cannot pay. All your claims of opportunity with the war were lies. I have had nothing but misery since it started. None of the Overlords will even answer my Farviews."

Jollis looked on with mild interest. He suppressed any further reaction. Do not despair, he thought. It is unlikely he thought to contact that particular one.

"You have made me a total exile. I have nothing. At least give me back something so I can try to reverse my fortunes if you will not!"

"Point," the merchant said in a cool voice. "You made yourself an exile in your ill-conceived plotting with the Emperor, not I. I will not take responsibility for your actions."

Gronnus' face became beet-red, his hands clenching. "Why you little bastard, how dare you... ?"

"And I come to you now with a solution to your problems."

Gronnus peered at Jollis in confusion. "What?"

"I have a confession to make to you, Overlord. I have deceived you. Or more precisely, I have withheld the truth from you. But I need to do so no more, for the gamble I have taken is about to pay off."

"Pay off?" said the Overlord in a lower voice. "You mean ... money? Platinum?"

"Indeed. And quite a bit. The first payment is on its way."

"Payment? For what?"

"For the service of your slaves in the Far West market."

Gronnus remained silent, staring.

Jollis smiled. "You see, my dear Overlord, I had to engage in this bit of deception in order to elude the Emperor's hand. At the time, his suspicions of the Far West made any open dealings with them very problematic. This is no longer an issue now that he is a declared hostile power, and the lines of battle have already been drawn. We need not worry about discovery any longer."

The lividness drained from Gronnus' face. "You opened a new market? H-how lucrative? How much are they willing to pay? How much, Jollis?"

"The first payment of one thousand platinum should arrive within another few days."

Gronnus gasped, his watery eyes gaping. He staggered and slapped a meaty hand on the desk to steady himself. "The first payment?"

"Indeed. Your slaves are highly prized there, it would seem."

Jollis sometimes amazed himself at how smoothly he could tell a lie. The bold lies were indeed easy to tell, and more easily believed, especially to the ears of the desperate.

"Gods ... yes ... I can repay the worst of my debts ... compensate for the loss of my last contracts..." Gronnus muttered.

"There is, however, one caveat, my Lord. Your slaves alone will not be enough to saturate the market. You need to enter into an arrangement with another Overlord to provide a greater variety."

Gronnus narrowed his eyes and glowered. "Another Overlord? Are you insane? Have you not heard what I just said about them refusing my Farviews?"

"Have you attempted to contact Freya D'yros?"

"Absolutely not! I will have nothing to do with that infernal woman. She is a backstabber and a cheat!"

"Nevertheless, I believe her slaves have qualities that are valued in the Far West market."

Gronnus snorted. "Yes, and if I let her in on this deal, she will find a way to usurp it to her own ends, I tell you!"

Jollis shook his head. "No, Overlord. You will remain in control of the deal. I will see to that. She cannot exploit it any more than you will allow her. I will be the broker, as I have been all along, and I will not tolerate any attempt to twist it to her own purposes."

His hands clenched as if reaching for the lifeline that Jollis had just tossed to him, yet his face remained pained.

Jollis sensed the Overlord was about to capitulate. The merchant's timing was impeccable. He managed to catch Gronnus at his most vulnerable financially and emotionally.

"You've already deceived me once, by your own admission, Jollis," the Overlord declared. "How do I know you will not do it again?"

Jollis smiled. "Ah, but I deceived you for your own gain, my dear Overlord. Can you truly fault me for that?"

"I will believe that when I have the money in my hands."

"And you shall very soon. In fact, would it not work to your advantage to have Freya see you receive payment in person while you attempt to negotiate the deal?"

"What, you want me to get her to come to my Manor?"

"Yes. Is it not tradition to do such deals in person?"

"Well, yes, it is, but I am not sure she will come."

"You must try, Overlord, if you wish to see this deal come to fruition. You would not want the Far West turning to another source instead. Such as Roquan."

Gronnus' eyes burned. "Certainly not!"

"I would suggest using that as a selling point to Freya. Like you, she has no love for that Overlord. If you would frame it in the context of dealing a blow against him, I am sure she will agree to come. Offer to use your Portal to transport her."

"My Portal? Do you realize how expensive it is to run..."

"Overlord," Jollis said pointedly. "Very soon, money will no longer be a concern to you."

Gronnus glared at the merchant. "You had better come through on that promise, Jollis. I will not be set up for a fall!"

Jollis smiled. "Indeed not, Overlord. I would never think of such a thing."

Q'yros gripped his staff in white-knuckled fingers and used all his willpower not to tap it impatiently upon the stone floor of the chamber.

The aged Mage's eyes narrowed as the young Journeyman came around to the same spot. Q'yros clenched his teeth as the man looked down again at the very same gem fragment, then let out a growl as the man picked it up and held it up to the light.

"You do realize, Q'garra, that is the same one you have already looked at?" Q'yros finally blurted. "Three times!"

Journeyman Mage Uroddus Q'garra did not seem to hear as he twirled the fragment in his slender fingers. Light flashed from the gem and his spectacles. "Patience, Master Q'yros," he said softly, as if whispering to a lover rather than speaking to a superior. "Patience."

"At my age, and in this crisis, that is in short supply."

Uroddus lowered the fragment and turned. "Do you or do you not wish me to make these calculations, Master Q'yros?"

Q'yros could not answer that honesty. No, he did not want it. He felt he was scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of talent at the Guild Hall. "Carry on," he grunted.