Chapter 44

The skies were still deep with the twilight prior to dawn. Imperial soldiers stirred, stretched, and set about preparing for the day's battle ahead. Their Commander sat down to a nice breakfast prepared by his personal servants as the men under him milled about, putting on armor and checking weapons.

The din faded to an uneasy quiet, save for the curious murmurs of the men. The Commander emerged from his tent into the dimness and was witness to a curious sight. Several large, diffuse orbs floated serenely past the defensive line and over the camp. They were thin and wispy, like loose gas, yet each glowed like a lamp, bathing the entire area in a pale blue radiance. The men looked up and stared at it, pointing and commenting to comrades.

Above the quiet rose a rolling thunder from the south. By the time the Commander realized what was happening, the sound had been joined by that of sword against sword and warning shouts of men.

The Commander yelled orders and his men fell into line. But by the time he had managed to recover from the surprise early attack, Duric's army had smashed through the defensive line, and aided by the Mage-light, quickly found their way to the heart of the camp.

That was all Mage Q'holan would do directly on the battlefield, and even that was in violation of Guild rules. He refused to do anything that would directly lead to men's deaths, such as conjure Mage-fire to rain down upon the Imperial lines, as several of Duric's commanders had attempted to browbeat him into doing before Duric intervened.

Yet it was significant, as it would allow Duric to defeat this legion before the second one could arrive to reinforce it, and give him that much more time to reach the Palace.

Rithas slammed his fist on the table. "Gods damn Lord Duric! He is a sorcerer!"

"It's more likely that he has a sorcerer, my Lord," said the scout. "We spotted fading Mage-light. It is likely they were able to illuminate the battlefield to allow for an early attack."

Rithas pointed to one of his adjuncts. "You. Alert the camp. Hurry the men in completing their preparations. I want to move out in less than a candlemark."

"Yes, my Lord, at once!"

As the first adjunct left, another turned to Rithas. "Lord General, with all due respect, if you had..."

"I don't want to hear it. We had no idea that Q'holan would turn traitor."

The adjunct stared. "Q'holan? The Emperor's Prime Advisor?"

"That is the only Mage that could possibly have joined Duric's ranks. If he had one before now, he would have used it."

"I thought they were supposed to have some sort of code against directly interfering in war."

Rithas made a sour face. "Yet they enchant weapons for use by the navy. No, they change their rules to suit them, same as everyone else does when they play politics."

The adjunct looked dubious, but nodded anyway.

Rithas turned to the scout. "Return to your unit, keep track of Duric's movements." The scout saluted and left. He turned to the remaining adjunct. "Do you know anything of the other legion, the one that was sitting to the west of the Palace yesterday?"

"Yes, my Lord, they are on their way to assist. It's a bit of a scramble for them, since they are weakened and don't have full compliments of archers or horsemen." He paused. "And there's no guarantee they will get there before Duric reaches the Palace."

Rithas nodded. "They don't have to, so long as the Imperial Guard can delay Duric's entry enough. Then they can hit Duric's west flank." He picked up the map from the table and rolled it up. "All right, let's get this tent broken down."

"It is good to hear from you again, Rennis," said Roquan as the sun rose above the trees to the east.

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you sooner, but things have been rather busy for me lately," said the Farview image of Rennis.

Roquan nodded. He had noticed that Rennis looked even more lean than his usual slim figure, and his eyes looked tired even in the imperfect, shimmering Farview. "Do you have news of those Narlassi girls that I sent you?"

"Yes, I applied the counter-agent that Vanlo sent with them. They were quite upset and frightened for some while afterward. It took a few days to get one of them to even talk to anyone."

Roquan frowned. "Yes, I feared as such."

"But there is some good news. I found a village with a Maiden Elder who was sympathetic to their barren condition. They're going to wind up as indentured servants for probably most of their lives, but it was the best I could do."

"That is better than I could have done, Rennis. I am in your debt. Have you heard from Doran?"

Rennis sighed. "His heart condition seems to have gotten worse. He is stressing out too much over the war. He had another episode like he had at your Manor. His Healer has confined him to bed for awhile."

"Perhaps very soon he will take a turn for the better. Duric contacted me last night. Today he makes the final push for the Imperial Palace."

Rennis let out a relieved breath. "Great gods, don't tell me this nightmare is almost over."

"I certainly hope so, Rennis. He said there were some complications, but that he received some unexpected assistance. He would not tell me the details."

"Perhaps he will tell you later." Rennis paused and smirked. "If you can get an audience with him, that is."

Roquan allowed himself a small smile. "One hopes that Lord Duric will not let the position go to his head."

"Well, be careful. Don't expect that you'll have your own personal line to Duric all the time. He'll have to treat you like any other Overlord after that, or the others will start yelling about favoritism."

Roquan nodded. "I have said this before. I simply want to go back to being an Overlord. I will have no need to curry political favor from him."

"Not even against Trennan?"

Roquan raised an eyebrow. "Has he said something about me?"

Rennis grinned. "He's been grumbling about you being insufferable after Duric becomes Emperor."

Roquan shook his head. "I would have hoped Trennan would understand me better by now. Or that they would be talking about Freya instead."

"Freya? Freya who?"

Roquan's eyes became ice.

"Sorry. But that should give you an idea of how much talk is going on about her."

"That is what I had feared. They would let me dispose of her without a word of protest, yet they would bring me before a Conclave because of Amanda."

"And just how is Freya, now that you bring it up?"

"Withdrawn. She will barely speak to anyone."

"And she's not just planning another escape?"

"Not that I can see."

Rennis nodded. "I guess she simply can't cope with reality. I'm just glad she didn't hurt Amanda more than she did."

"Amanda is quite resilient. She seems to have handled it well."

"And what about Sirinna?"

Roquan heard the anxiety in his voice. It is likely that Rennis had tried scrupulously not to harp on her since the conversation began. Rennis had likely been waiting for this very moment. "Amanda is helping her cope, better than I could have," Roquan admitted.

"You realize what this means, don't you? About them, I mean?"

"Yes. I cannot split them up. Ever."

Rennis grinned. "Guess you'll have to see if a client will take a package deal."

"To be honest, Rennis, I do not know what to do with them. After all this, I cannot see either of them returning to the life of a slave."

Rennis chuckled. "So you're going to get even more radical on me."

"No, not radical, simply facing reality, as you had put it."

"I know, but I have to kid you about it. I want to find something to laugh at after this is all over." Rennis paused and sighed. "Really, though, I think everything about the Overlords is going to change after this."

It had been nearly a decade since Z'haas had stepped into this chamber. His footfalls across the colored tiles arranged to artfully depict the Oceanus crest echoed against curving walls of blue-gray marble. This was a "trophy room" of sorts. It was here that an Emperor would display expensive gifts received from other nations or grateful Nobility. Symbols of power were placed here as well, usually those that signified great things that the Emperor had done during his reign. The room was emptied each time a new Emperor came to the throne.

Despite this chamber having been neglected by the current sovereign, servants dutifully kept it clean, the gold polished, and the silver untarnished. Not that Z'haas had much to add to this chamber after the first part of his rule. Once he had become obsessed with rooting out Oceanus' enemies, the chamber became forgotten.

Z'haas ignored all the items gracing the walls save for one. At the opposite side from the door was a large sword, still in its scabbard, held upon a plaque mounted on the wall. It was the sword that had been used in Z'haas' formal coronation, and then given to him as a gift, as was the tradition at the time.

The Emperor carefully took it down from its plaque. He held it in his hands for a few quiet moments. Memories flickered through his head of that ceremony so long ago. His brother had been there. He had said not a word of dissent when he had been passed over for the throne, despite wanting it very badly. He had never begrudged Fenric his due and remained loyal to a fault.

Z'haas' eyes narrowed. He grasped the hilt of the sword and slid it from its scabbard. From behind him came the sound of booted feet running heavily through the corridor. The Emperor held the sword aloft and turned it one way and the other, watching the light play on the gleaming blade.

"My Emperor!"

Z'haas said nothing as the guard ran into the chamber and stopped just past the threshold.

"My Emperor, we cannot find him anywhere!" the guard huffed. "Mage Q'holan is nowhere to be found, and no one remembers seeing him since yesterday."

"He is not here," Z'haas said in a seemingly unconcerned voice.

"We tried to search the grounds outside, my Emperor, but the enemy ... Lord Duric's forces are close at hand..."

The Emperor lowered the sword and thrust it back into its sheathe. He calmly wrapped the belt about his waist and secured it before he turned around. "If you do see him, wherever he is, or whatever he is doing, kill him," said Z'haas in a cold voice.

The guard's eyes widened. "But my Emperor, he's a Mage ... we cannot..."

"You will do as I say or you will be executed for treason. That goes for anyone in this Palace from now on that refuses to obey me or that questions my orders. Is that clear?"

The guard came to attention. "Yes, my Emperor!"

Z'haas walked up to him, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He carried his head aloft in a most regal stance as a real Emperor should. "Activate the Imperial Guard. Man the battlements and ready all defenses."

"Yes, my Emperor."

The guard started away, but the Emperor grabbed his arm.

"Tell them I expect every last man to give up his life to protect me. Tell them that my life and the life of Oceanus, is more important than their mortality."

The guard nodded nervously. "Y-yes, my Emperor."

Z'haas watched him go. He glanced behind him, his eyes darting about the chamber as he pictured in his mind's eye where he would place the heads of both Rithas and Duric. Satisfied, he nodded once and left, heading for the audience chamber.

The Imperial line was momentarily shattered by Duric's lightning pre-dawn advance but not completely broken. The Imperial Commander broke off the attack and fell back to a last set of defenses at the outer edge of the Imperial Palace grounds. As Duric closed, longbow archers rained dead-eye arrow fire from the battlements, forcing Duric to slow his advance. By the time he had reorganized his attack to deal more effectively with the resistance, reinforcements arrived from the west.

The weaker legion turned out to be no match for Duric's defenders on the west flank, but it was a drain on resources and time. Duric's first attempt to punch through the Imperial line to reach the Palace was thrown back, but casualties among the Imperial soldiers were mounting at an alarming rate.

Their already threadbare morale was reaching the breaking point, but that of Duric's army soared. Seeing victory within their grasp, the men were eager to try again, and this time they would be sure to break through and confront the Imperial Guard, the absolute last line of defense. From the start it had been a battle of time as much as it was of men. And while Duric was winning the latter, he was about to suffer a defeat on the former, for it was then that Rithas' legion arrived.

Yet Rithas had not counted on Q'holan standing within the ranks of Duric's men. Knowing that Q'holan was with Duric did little to help. Because Q'holan was the Emperor's Mage, the magic-based defenses of the Palace were tuned to him. Even though he had left, since there was no other Mage to take over for him, he was still linked to those defenses. Thus he still controlled the Mage-sight wards.

When Rithas split his legion, he sensed the mass movement of soldiers and was able to deliver a warning to Duric. He had just enough time to rearrange his flanks so that instead of enveloping Duric's army as he had hoped, Rithas' legion was forced to meet them head-on on terrain favoring Duric.

They would not hold out forever. Rithas' legion was fresh and Duric's army was growing tired despite their high spirits. Duric had to concentrate the bulk of his forces on penetrating the Palace. He had to hope that Q'holan was right, and that the Emperor was coherent enough to take out Rithas.

Lord General Rithas strode through the halls of the Imperial Palace, holding his head aloft, tall and proud. His footsteps were measured and deliberate, as if every movement was crafted to convey supreme confidence and force of will.

Behind him trailed three soldiers from his own legion, marching in step, arranged in a loose triangle. They attempted to look self-assured as well, though they did not accomplish it as well as Rithas. Nervous glances were occasionally exchanged between them, and one swallowed hard as they approached the corridor that would lead to the audience chamber.

Less than a candlemark ago, Rithas had told them of his real purpose. They had been shocked but perhaps not quite surprised. They were anxious and feared for their lives, but they were totally loyal to Rithas. They believed in their hearts that Rithas would be a better Emperor than Z'haas ever was, and thus were willing to follow the Lord General to the end.

Rithas received respectful salutes from those in the Imperial Guard that he passed, as he once commanded them directly. Some looked at him hopefully, thinking that perhaps that was his reason for his arrival.

Rithas turned down the corridor to the great double doors of the audience chamber. The two guards drew their swords as was part of their routine, and stepped before the doors. "Stop and state your business," said one of them crisply.

The Lord General came to a stop, his men stopping a breath later. Their hands gripped their crossbows tightly. "Lord General Rithas, commanding the Northern Forces and the Fifth Legion," said Rithas formally. "I wish an audience with the Emperor for matters of his security."

The guards nodded, then swiftly lowered their weapons. "Yes, the Emperor is expecting you," said one of them.

Rithas simply nodded once. He thought it a little odd that the Emperor would actually be expecting him, but he supposed that Q'holan's Mage-sight wards had told Z'haas of his approach.

The guards pulled the doors open. Rithas waited until they were open enough to accept him and his men as one unit. Uncertainty flickered in his soldiers' eyes as they started forward. They made note of where the interior guards were on either side of the door. They scanned the chamber for any other defenses and saw none.

Their eyes fell upon the Emperor and his throne. This was the first time any of them had been in his presence. They did not falter, Rithas having chosen his confidants well. They slowed their advance as Rithas continued forward, until they came to a stop not too far past the guards at the doors. They waited for the signal.

Rithas strode forward until he came to the edge of the dais. He dropped to his knee, giving the Emperor a reverent bow. The Emperor paused a long moment, leaving Rithas where he was. Without a word, he rose from the throne and slowly descended the dais.

Rithas heard Z'haas footfalls, and wondered if he had somehow missed hearing the Emperor say "rise." He did not want to take the chance, and remained where he was. It was best not to alert Z'haas and to continue to play the part of the loyal Lord General.

The Emperor stopped three arm lengths from the kneeling Rithas. With a sneer, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and yanked it from the sheathe. Rithas jerked his head up and looked at the sword in shock.

The two guards at the doors surged forward. One had run his sword through the soldier in the center before the man could turn around. The other two spun around, crossbows at the ready. The second guard was upon on of them in an instant. The soldier had no time to switch weapons. He swung his crossbow to parry the blow from the sword. The other soldier brought his crossbow to bear on the first guard.

The shot was true. The guard's blood-stained sword clattered to the stone as he groped at the bolt sticking out of his neck, blood bubbling from his mouth. He uttered a choking sound and fell.

There was a strangled noise from his compatriot. He turned in time to see his friend slide from the guard's sword and crumple to the floor. He threw his crossbow aside and drew his own sword. As he prepared to meet the remaining guard, the doors opened. Several bolts whipped through the air and converged unerringly. The remaining soldier fell.

More guards entered the chamber, swords drawn. They and the surviving member of the inside guards, his sword now stained bright crimson, stepped forward and leveled the points of their swords at Rithas.

Z'haas leveled his at Rithas' head. "Stand up, traitor."

Rithas first took a look at the carnage behind him, then turned his gaze back to the Emperor. It did not waver as he slowly rose to his feet.

Z'haas nodded to the guards. One of them stepped forward and relieved the Lord General of his sword. Rithas did not even flinch, keeping his eyes locked on Z'haas.

"You are not only a traitor, you are a fool," the Emperor sneered. "So many opportunities to usurp me when you were head of the Imperial Guard. Did you not have the stomach for it? Did you obtain your courage only when you were many leagues distant?"

Z'haas paused, baring his clenched teeth as the sword trembled from the tightness of his grip.

"Why did you not deliver this Palace to Duric when you had your chance before the start of the war?" Z'haas screamed.

Rithas shook his head. "No, that was not the way it was," he said in a voice of remarkable calm. "Not at all. I had no such thoughts."

"Why do I not believe you, Lord General?"

"Believe what you will. But I will admit to you that the seeds were planted. They were planted the day you murdered a young woman in cold blood. The day you became judge, jury, and executioner."

"Be silent!"

"The day that it ceased being about leading Oceanus and became you clinging to power."

"Be silent! I will hear no more lies. I will not be fooled by your words, for your deeds speak far louder. I should have ... I..."

His eyes widened. Several of the guards also glanced nervously behind them. Rithas simply turned his head calmly.

Shouts of men and heavy footfalls through the main corridor drifted faintly to them. The sound rose in volume until the floor trembled from their hurried march. After reaching a crescendo, it faded as it moved to the south end of the Palace.

A moment later came the metallic clangs of sword-on-sword and sword-on-shield.

"It's started," Rithas said. "Duric's breached the outer defenses. His men are in the Palace, or about to enter it."

The Emperor's sword trembled. His eyes glistened.

"I might still save it," said Rithas.

Z'haas blinked and stared.

"I might still drive him off, or make the cost of victory so high that he cannot stomach it. Right now my forces are in the command of my adjunct. He is capable, but not proficient. He cannot hold his own against Duric."

Z'haas' teeth ground together. His fingers tightened.

"Let me take command of them, and I will..."

Rithas never finished his sentence. He gave the Emperor a surprised look, then one of final acceptance. "S-so be it..." he murmured as his head slumped. His body slid from the Emperor's sword and fell lifeless to the stone floor.

Z'haas stood, panting, the arm holding the sword falling heavily to his side as if the weapon had become too heavy to hold. The tip scraped along the steps as he ascended the dais. He fell into his throne and set the sword across his lap, staining his clothing with Rithas' blood.

One of the guards turned to the others and barked an order. The other two reached down to pick up the Lord General's body.

"Leave it."

The guards looked up. "My Emperor?"

"I said leave it! Tell all the guards to join in the defense of the Palace. Defend it, defend me, or do not bother coming into my presence again."

The guards exchanged a look. "Yes, my Emperor," said one of them uneasily. All three hastily exited the chamber.

The Emperor stared at the body. He let out a deep sigh and folded his hands over the sword, oblivious to the still wet blood staining skin and clothing.

"One traitor killed. Another awaits," he said to no one.

Rithas' death could not be concealed. Too many people held Farviewing pearls bound to him. Each one charred, cracked, and in some cases, shattered, at the moment of the Lord General's violent demise.

No one else knew of Rithas' plans outside of Dollas' clan or the three soldiers. The adjunct in charge of Rithas' legion had no idea, thus he could only assume what made the most logical sense: that Duric had managed to penetrate deeply enough into the Palace to catch Rithas unawares and do away with him.

Enthusiasm and morale plunged. What use was there now, with Duric so close to victory? Once he was in power, he would order the legion to stand down. Why continue to fight and risk losing life or limb, when it was all going to be called off in short order anyway? They would simply serve the new Emperor.

The fighting between Rithas' legion and Duric's army began to wind down. It became little more than a holding action. Lord Duric noticed and decided to take a chance that it was not simply a trap. He took the strongest forces from each flank and used them to overrun the defense perimeter set up just at the entrances to the Palace.

Duric blew a hole in the final defensive lines. Now his soldiers poured inside, battling the Imperial Guard corridor by corridor. These Imperial soldiers, the absolute final defense, were unfailingly loyal to Z'haas, and few would back down.