Chapter 45

Mage Q'holan folded his hands demurely before him and bowed his head. "Thus I now accept any punishment you see fit to give me, Guildmaster."

Uroddus considered for a long moment. He had no need to consult the Guild Charter, as he had made a point to memorize it over the past quarter moon. He felt that it was his responsibility to have the law at his fingertips at all times.

Indeed, Q'holan did violate the rules. He interfered in a matter of war. At the same time, Uroddus thought it a bit hypocritical that the mere illumination of the battlefield would be considered a matter of war, yet trading in Mage-fire cannons was considered a matter of commerce simply because no Mage would be the one actually firing the weapon.

"To be perfectly honest, Mage Q'holan, I doubt you will find many that will outright condemn you for assisting in the removal of Z'haas from power, not after what I have heard about the waning days of his reign."

Q'holan nodded. "Yes, Guildmaster, and I doubt I would have done any differently had I had it to do over again. Z'haas was insane. Had he submitted to a Healer specializing in mind medicine, the Healer would have reached that conclusion as well."

"I tend to agree."

"But I still violated the Guild Charter, Guildmaster. You're required to punish me."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes. But there are no stipulations as to the manner of punishment."

Q'holan's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing more.

Uroddus picked up a parchment from his desk and adjusted his spectacles. "It seems that for some time you were adamant about leaving your post and returning to the Guild."

"Well, yes, Guildmaster, but that was only because..."

Uroddus held up a hand to silence him. "Please, allow me to finish. As I was saying, it is clear you do not like this assignment as Prime Advisor. It is clearly an anathema to you. Therefore, an appropriate punishment would be to assign you to this position for a period no less than one year."

Q'holan stared. "What?"

"Good, I see that you understand the gravity of this discipline."

"Uh ... but, Guildmaster, you don't understand, I don't..."

"Please, Mage Q'holan, no further pleas. You stated at the beginning you would accept whatever I imposed without question. My decision stands."

Q'holan looked exasperated. "But, Guildmaster, I am trying to tell you, a position like this is something that I would now..."

"Mage Q'holan. Please remember that anything you say in this matter I must take into account. If you wish no further action to be taken by me, you shall consider carefully what you are about to say."

The Mage fell silent. It finally dawned on him what the Guildmaster had done. He slowly smiled. "Of course, Guildmaster. I withdraw my plea and accept the punishment as it stands."

"Very good. I will have a Portal powered for your return to the Imperial Palace by this evening. That is all."

Mage Q'holan bowed his head and quickly left the office.

Uroddus sighed and shook his head. Things like that were not among those he really wanted to handle as Guildmaster. He hoped that his creative interpretation of the rules would not be seriously questioned.

He stood and came out from behind the desk. He was halfway to the door when Katla and Q'kollan both burst into the room. Both were carrying several parchments.

"Is something the matter?" Uroddus asked after seeing both their distressed faces.

"Plenty," Katla muttered.

"We appear to be at an impasse concerning the task you last put to us," said Q'kollan. "And to put it mildly, it has gotten ugly. We just left a meeting..."

"Shouting match is more like it," Katla said sourly.

"Be that as it may, the point is that both sides cannot come to an agreement on a particularly critical point." Q'kollan turned to Katla. "And to be perfectly honest, Mage Q'yoona, the Empiricists are being particularly obstinate on this point."

Katla frowned. "And the Traditionalists have not been in the past? I seem to recall some reluctance about accepting that the new Portal technology could even exist."

"And I believe that the Empiricists have not learned from this, as they are falling into the same trap as we did in refusing to accept something with such vast implications..."

"Please, stop," Uroddus said, holding up his hands. "Do not carry the dispute in here. What is the issue?"

The two glanced at each other. Q'kollan nodded. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." Katla turned to Uroddus and presented him the parchments. "We've been trying to puzzle out the formulae that would lead to the theory that was proposed in those notes, that somehow combining similar memories from multiple people had some extraordinary effect."

Uroddus nodded as he skimmed over the pages of complex formulae and mathematical proofs. "But it is not yielding results."

"No, it's not. The equations either diverge or contradict each other."

"And this is where the Traditionalists come in, Guildmaster," Q'kollan began. "Once the gist of what the equations were trying to define was understood, we applied some more 'old-fashioned' methodology to it and came up with this."

Uroddus accepted the second parchments and skimmed them. These read more like an essay, filled with metaphor and analogy to explain how the various aspects of the magic possibly worked with one another. He looked up, a mild expression of shock on his face. "Are you sure of this?"

"Of course not," said Q'kollan. "We are not sure that is the ultimate answer."

"It can't be," Katla said. "It will not fit the calculations. Nothing we do can make the numbers work."

"But it fits with how magic works from a point of view that has sustained us for many centuries. I realize the merits of Empiricism, but it is not the whole answer. Even our Guildmaster realizes this."

Both of them looked towards Uroddus.

The Guildmaster let out a deep breath. "The implications are staggering. It means that if you have enough people with similar memories of a particular person, then you could potentially target certain spells at that person no matter where he is."

Q'kollan nodded gravely. "Now take it one step further. Apply it to the new Portal mechanics."

Uroddus frowned. "It means you could target a Portal in the vicinity of a particular person regardless of where he is. Regardless of whether you have memories specific to that location."

"Which makes no sense!" Katla called out. "Portals do not work that way. They need specific coordinates in physical space!"

"I would contend that we are not the ones to state how Portals should or should not work," said Q'kollan. "Considering the vast amount of new information we have discovered this past season."

"But this is something more fundamental."

"Yet you have been unable to complete the relevant equations. Could this be for the same reason, that it requires extending your thinking beyond the numbers?"

"Katla," Uroddus said softly when she was about to protest again. "He has a point."

Katla frowned. "All right. But you see what this means? It means that the preparations we did to protect the Noble Lords will not work."

"Not necessarily," said Q'kollan. He turned to Uroddus. "Guildmaster, it is my understanding that the Overlords were able to retrieve the records from the two abandoned Manors."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes. It appears that they serviced only a quarter of the Noble Lords combined. Naturally I was not told any specific counts of how many slaves each one used, but the amounts will vary, surely, so the actual number that could be reached with this technique, if it is true, would be smaller than that."

"As I had surmised."

Uroddus looked thoughtful.

Katla recognized that look at once. "What is it?"

"I am not sure. I feel that I am missing something."

"Wait, you don't think this is actually correct, do you?"

"We have to consider the possibility. Do we even know what the thresholds are?"

Katla sighed. "We need a formula for that, and we can't derive one. That's the point!"

"We might be able to estimate, Mage Q'yoona," said Q'kollan. "That is what Traditionalist magic is about. We do not deal in absolutes."

"Get me that estimation," said Uroddus. He turned to Katla. "Please, I know you and the others are frustrated, but you have to work with the Traditionalists. You have to be willing to give their side merit."

Katla glanced between the two men and sighed. "I'll try, but it's hard."

"But do try. I will contact Overlord Roquan and share our insights with him. Then I will oversee further collaboration myself. Debate is one thing, but inaction will not be tolerated."

Lanno was quite surprised to find that Evella wanted to do something other than straight intercourse that morning. He was astonished when she did it well. Or at least as good as any woman might with some prior practice. By no means was Evella up to the caliber of the slaves of the Manor, but she knew exactly how to apply lips and tongue to make the experience very pleasurable for him. He did not have to coach her at all.

He did not think to warn her until he was nearly over the top. By the time he could form the words, he had already crested. Her lips tightened around his manhood, her tongue massaging it. Only a few drops of his seed trickled down his shaft as she slowly drew back. She closed her lips as the head slipped from her mouth. She tipped her head back and swallowed, then let out her breath as a husky sigh.

"Wow," Lanno breathed.

Evella smiled faintly as she drew alongside him. She was trembling, her sex aching and strained as if someone had already been stroking it. She panted lightly.

Lanno smiled as he drew his arm around her. "At least this excited you as well."

"Oh, yes, of course," she said immediately, trying not to squirm.

"But how did you learn how to do that?"

"Oh, um ... it was just something I picked up."

Lanno looked at her dubiously. "That was not something you just 'pick up, ' not when it was that well done."

Evella blushed faintly. "I-I've been having someone ... well, teach me."

Lanno looked surprised. "You have?"

She nodded. "Sirinna."

"Why?"

Evella managed a smile. "So I could please you better, of course."

Lanno sighed. "Now, come on. You're talking like you're going to be doing this for..."

"Lanno, please, not now. I need you." She writhed as the pressure in her pussy increased.

Lanno nodded. "All right." He smiled again. "And since you were so gracious in what you did for me this morning, I'll return the favor in kind."

"The number of different slaves that a Noble Lord might use over his tenure varies by quite a bit, Guildmaster," said Roquan to Uroddus' Farview image. "It depends on the personality of the Noble Lord. Some crave a constant variety and are forever changing slaves. Some prefer to find a few they like and keep them over a long term contract."

"So there is no 'typical case' then?" asked Uroddus.

"Not really, no."

"What about on average, Overlord? Would you say that it is a fair assumption that a typical Noble Lord might go through half a dozen slaves or more over the course of about ten years?"

Roquan looked thoughtful. "I would have to consult my records, but I would say that is a fair assumption. Those are Lords that tend to prefer young slaves. I use this to my advantage so they will gain experience, then contract them to clients who prefer to keep slaves for longer periods of time, or who prefer the older and experienced slaves."

"What of the slaves of the D'yoran and D'yros Manors? Is there any pattern to them?"

"I have not looked for any. If I may ask, what is this about, Guildmaster?"

"I am not quite sure yet," Uroddus said.

"Is there a further danger to the Noble Lords?" Roquan asked. "Shall I contact Emperor Z'garon?"

"Not as yet. I have only a vague feeling that I am missing something."

"I was assured that all preparations were nearing completion for protecting the Noble Lords."

Uroddus nodded. "Yes, that is all but completed. I am simply wondering if it is enough."

"And you feel these two sets of Manor records will tell you something?"

"I do not wish to impose on you, Overlord, but would you please look again at those records and see if there are any patterns concerning the slaves they owned at the time their Manors were dissolved?"

"I will do what I can to help, but it will be a daunting task. What are you looking for?"

"I wish I could give you more details. Anything that seems noteworthy. I would suggest you seek assistance, Overlord. Preferably someone with a highly associative mind."

Roquan nodded. "Yes, I have someone who would be well-suited for this challenge."

Evella barely managed to contain herself when she began throbbing almost as soon as Lanno's tongue touched her. She let out only a few sharp gasps, her hands clutching the furs of the bed. When it finally relented, she let out a long moan.

She was slow to build to a second one, but Lanno was patient. He seemed to enjoy doing this and did not want to rush it. By the time she was soaring once more, her body quivered for release, her moans escalating into soft cries.

When he finally sent her over, it was not as sharp a climax as the first. This one was more gentle and far more pleasurable. She let out a final moan and went limp as he eased off.

"I hope that did justice to what you did for me," said Lanno with a grin as he came alongside her.

Evella smiled and cupped her hand to his cheek. "Yes, that was very nice, Lanno, thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't stay and snuggle with you, but if I don't get going, I'll be late."

"No, I understand. I'll see you at midday?"

"Of course."

Lanno took her hand and squeezed it before heading away. Evella sat up in bed soon after Lanno had left. She let out a small sigh. That first orgasm must simply have been her own excitement. She had become aroused from his obvious pleasure, and from the excitement that she was doing it right.

Evella stood. She uttered a small gasp as it felt as if her pussy was going to rise again. A breath later, the feeling had already passed. She tentatively took a step forward and nothing happened.

It must have been left over from her second orgasm and nothing more. That had to be it.

"I apologize for taking you away from your Healer duties," said Roquan after he and Amanda had entered his quarters. "But there is an important task I have for you."

"Yes, Master, of course. What is it?"

Roquan picked up a large sheaf of parchments and handed it to Amanda. She looked at the top of the pile. It was like an accountant's sheet, something people once used on her world before the advent of personal computers and spreadsheet programs. Data was arranged in neat columns. She saw names, dates, and numbers.

"This is a Manor Ledger," Roquan explained. "Every Overlord keeps one and uses the exact same format. The first sheets are an inventory of slaves, indicating each one by name and description, her specialties, from where she was acquired and when, when she graduated, and her current disposition." He gestured for Amanda to advance through the stack. "And these sheets record all slave transactions ever done at the Manor. That sheaf is for Gronnus. And this one..." He placed a hand on another on the desk. " ... is for Freya."

Amanda nodded in understanding. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to look over these records and see if you notice anything unusual."

Amanda tilted her head. She looked from the sheaf in her hands to the one on the desk. "Master, that's a lot of data. What am I looking for?"

"I am not sure. I would suggest looking for any patterns."

"But patterns in what? And what is this for, Master?"

"I will answer the second question first," said Roquan. "I have been asked to do this by the Guildmaster of the Mages. It has to do with the protection that was arranged for the Noble Lords."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Master, is there something about that I should know? You told me the threat was more or less over."

"The Noble Lords will likely be safe should anything happen. But this new Guildmaster, I suspect, is a perfectionist. He wishes to make sure he has covered everything."

"So, I should concentrate on what Lords they were assigned to?"

"Yes, but do not limit yourself to that. See if anything else appears to you."

Amanda looked at the sheaf in her hands. "I'll try, Master, but this is going to take me all day."

"Yes, I know. Take as much time as you need."

Amanda looked up. "Master, are you sure there isn't anything to worry about?"

Roquan's expression softened. "I highly doubt that I can ever say that there is nothing to worry about, Amanda. But I would not become alarmed. Things are turning for the better in Oceanus. Emperor Z'garon has the full loyalty of both the legions and the fleets. Most of the major nations have recognized the Z'garon Imperium as the valid governing body of Oceanus."

Amanda nodded, then paused. "Most?"

"The last I had heard, only the Urisi had not yet sent word, but it is likely a formality."

Amanda nodded again, though more slowly. "All right, Master, I'll get started at once."

"You may use my desk. I have provided fresh parchments and quills if you need to take notes."

Amanda reached for one of the quill pens with some bemusement. She had never used one before. In fact, it was only now that she realized she had not actually written so much as a single word since she had arrived on Narlass.

"I will be making rounds about the Manor today, a duty I have neglected for far too long. Please come find me if you need me."

"Yes, Master."

Amanda picked up the first parchment as Roquan left. If there was ever a time I wished Narlass had the magical equivalent of computers, this is it, she thought as she started to pore over the data.

Jollis lingered for a moment in the deepening dusk, watching as the men walked off the vast grassy field under the watchful eye of their gray-haired and wise War Master. Every movement of these elite warriors was observed and assessed. Even their gait as they left the Field of War was watched with a critical eye. None were allowed to lower their preparedness for even a moment. They were expected not simply to look alert, but to be alert.

Which the War Master decided to put to a test.

As the last of the warriors passed, their backs to him, he turned towards the far end of the field and gestured. Suddenly, men in armor and swords raced onto the field, converging fast on the retreating warriors. Without breaking stride, at least one dozen of the warriors in the rearmost ranks turned to meet the threat.

It would seem to be no match. Swords against simple wooden staffs. Yet in the first few breaths, half the attackers had been disarmed. Where parts of the body were visible, blunt blows were delivered with the side of the staff. Where there was not, lightning jabs with the end of the staff pierced armor. And now a second contingent of warriors were rushing to their aid to finish the battle.

But the War Master had more in store for them. From above a low hill, archers rose and fired at the approaching reinforcements. Staffs were spun, a light charge of magic flowing through them, transforming them into temporary shields. Arrows broke and shattered as they struck.

Several warriors launched their staffs like javelins. Each one found a mark, penetrating armor and sending an attacking archer falling back behind the hill and out of the battle. In a few more heartbeats, the battle was over. The Inonni warriors had not a single casualty. Moreover, while the "enemy" lay defeated, not a single one had been killed.

The War Master nodded in approval. "Well done. Well done indeed."

The warriors bowed as one and left the field. Healers trotted across the grass to treat the wounded "attackers." The archers that had been hit now staggered to their feet wincing in pain. The warriors had used the perfect amount of force on their staves. It had penetrated armor, but not quite the flesh. The impact, however, would leave them with severe bruises and cracked ribs.

Jollis smiled and turned from the field. He walked through an opening flanked by tall columns and entered the shrine.

He found Master Kyllos kneeling before the stature of a god at the other end of the elegant hall. Torches burned bright red, the color of war, all along the walls of the shrine. Kyllos finished his prayer and rose to greet him.

"I am most impressed, Master Kyllos," said Jollis softly. "They use moves that I do not even comprehend."

"It is a very ancient discipline, my Wanderer," said Kyllos. "We felt it was best for our plans."

"Yes, it makes perfect sense. Subdue without killing. Minimal violence for maximum effect."

"Which is something that you practice all the time, Jollis. You are not so different from them after all."

Jollis bowed his head deeply. "You honor me, Master. Perhaps more than I deserve."

Kyllos placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's have none of that. You have done very well. You have brought us down a long road. In less than a day we will see the results of your labors."

"I am excited, Master. But worried as well."

Kyllos paused. "About Amanda?"

"Not for our warriors. After what I have just witnessed, I would trust them with my life. It is the fleet that still sits outside the Manor that has me concerned."

Kyllos nodded. "We will be taking care of that."

"But I suspect you will not be able to use such compassionate techniques."

The Elder sighed. "It is most distasteful, yes. We hope to craft the initial assault to convince them of the futility of opposing us. And we will be catching them unawares."

"And what of the Noble Lords, Master? Will they be convinced as well? Or will they attempt a counterattack?"

Kyllos looked thoughtful. "That will depend on the wisdom of their new Emperor. He was quite daring and bold to move against the Imperium as he did. But there is a fine line between boldness and foolishness. It is hoped that he understands where that is."

"Will he be allowed to stay in power?"

"That is our hope. He has the ability to calm and rally the people. He will have to see that it is in their best interest, if peace and civility is to be maintained." Kyllos smiled. "Remember, we are seeking to bring enlightenment, not conquest."

"They will see the two as indistinguishable, Master."

"At first, yes. But it is hoped in time that this will fade."

"It seems that no matter how long a road we have already traveled, the road ahead seems even longer."

"But what is important, Jollis, is that we continue to move in the same direction along that road: forward."

Jollis smiled. "If you will excuse me, Master? I need to perform one more task now that we are set. I must inform my contact in the Urisi Nation."

Kyllos nodded once. "Come attend devotions with me after twilight, if you would."

"I will, Master. We will pray for our success." He bowed to his Master reverently and left.

"Lord Tarras, I need to make a formal request of you in accordance with the Charter."

Tarras regarded the Farview image of the Emperor curiously and nodded once.

"I have need to temporarily integrate the men you provided for my army into the Imperial legions," said Duric.

Tarras paused in his reply. He noted how very much like an Emperor Duric now looked. It was not simply that he had finally donned the flowing cloak that was the symbol of his office, but the commanding way in which he carried himself. This was more how had pictured a strong, effective Emperor. Z'haas never had such a look. "I will grant the request, of course, but I am curious as to why."

"To be honest, I am not completely sure myself. I feel as if there is something wrong, but I cannot put my finger on it."

"Have you stood down any of the existing Imperial legions, my Emperor?"

"Not yet."

Tarras nodded gravely. "I imagine that is a bit of a strain on the men."

"Many were disappointed, yes, though they are grateful for not having a war to fight. At least at the moment."

Tarras' eyebrows rose. "At the moment?"

"The truth is, Tarras, the delay in recognition of my claim to the throne from the Urisi is disturbing. Perhaps I am jumping at shadows, but..."

"No, I would say that the fact that they have yet to respond is a cause for some concern."

"This is all a mystery to me. I had even offered to repudiate the trade treaty that they made with Z'haas. The terms were so unfair to the Urisi that it was appalling."

Tarras nodded. "I cannot imagine why the Urisi would agree to enter into such a thing."

Duric's face darkened. "Unless they supported Z'haas and consider me to be an enemy."

Tarras shook his head. "I sincerely doubt that. It would not be in the Urisi's best interest to be enemies with Oceanus. Not when our navy can pulverize their ships and their coastlines."

Duric frowned. "I would never do such a thing unless they actively engaged in open warfare with us."

Tarras smiled. "I know that perfectly well, my Emperor, but the Urisi do not. It is best to leave them in ignorance. That is how a powerful nation maintains the peace." Tarras looked thoughtful. "I am thinking that this is likely some sort of oversight. Or simply some political posturing. They may feel a need to 'put you in your place' after their awful dealings with Z'haas, a way of flexing their political muscle in a reasonably safe fashion."

Duric smirked. "In other words, don't make any waves, and wait until they deign to acknowledge my presence."

"Exactly. But keeping the Imperial legions intact for the moment is a wise move. Though do not carry it too far."

Duric was already nodding. "I know, I know. Eventually the shine will wear off and the Noble Lords will start treating me as a rival for influence. I intend to put a stop to that thinking eventually, so you know."

"Oh, I agree, my Emperor, but it will be an uphill battle."

Duric grinned. "It seems my whole life has been that for the past two seasons. Anyway, thank you for your advice. I can only hope that Lord Uras' advice is as sound, or at least as non-bombastic."

Tarras smiled. "I would not count on that."

Duric laughed. "Good day to you, Lord Tarras."

"Good day to you, Emperor Z'garon."

Norlan tugged at his clothing in one last and ultimately vain attempt to smooth out the remaining wrinkles in his formal wear. Ultimately, it did not matter, for it would be his words and not his appearance that would capture their attention. Or not, as the case may be.

He passed under the soaring archway that led into the Grand Wing of the High Lords of the Urisi Royal Palace, marching with deliberate purpose through the wide hall, past the tall columns as the images of noteworthy High Lords inscribed upon them looked down in haughty disdain. At the other end of the hall were the grand, gilded doors that led to the High Lord Council Chamber. Two guards stood at attention on either side, carrying long, largely ceremonial lances, intended more for show than defense.

About halfway down the hallway, Norlan was aware of running footsteps behind him. He ignored it, keeping his stride steady, holding his head up confidently. Finally, in a mad scramble, the feet caught up to him and brought their owner before him. A hand pressed into Norlan's chest and forced him to stop.

"You are quite in the way," said Norlan in a bored voice.

"And just what are you doing here of all places, Norlan?" demanded Mandas.

"I was not aware that I needed to report my presence to you or my reasons therein. Now if you will excuse me..."

He tried to edge past Mandas, but was stopped again. "What business do you have with the High Lords?"

"And how is that even remotely your concern?"

"I could call the Royal Guard. I could have you thrown out!"

Norlan sighed. "I have not been banned from court, Mandas. My absence was largely self-imposed. You would have no basis to have me thrown out."

"I could make a case!" Mandas insisted. "I have influence here, you do not! That is why those silly rumors that I am sure you tried to start will ultimately gain no traction."

Norlan raised an eyebrow and attempted to look uninterested. "Rumors, you say?"

Mandas frowned. "Yes, very ugly little rumors that I am somehow partially to blame for that travesty of a treaty you did with the Oceanus Overlords. That I am trying to interfere with the business of the High Lords!"

Norlan smiled. "In that case, Mandas, it would very much behoove you to step out of my way. I could very well be on vital business for the High Lords. Wouldn't want to be seen as interfering with that, now would you?"