Chapter 11

Amanda had waited for the hammer to fall for several days now, first for her behavior while entertaining the Minor Lord, and again for acting in a most inappropriate manner with Ambassador Mandas (for she did not believe Mandas' word that he would say nothing to Norlan). As she tossed in her sleeping niche, slumber more elusive as the candlemarks crawled past, she wondered if perhaps it already had.

Norlan had ignored her in the days following the visit by the Minor Lord. Halno used her every morning as he always did, and she was assigned to entertain the serving staff afterward, and doled out to the occasional dignitary in the evenings. Her womanhood was never unsealed enough to allow her pleasure, or her nipples were teased until she strained at the edge of an orgasm which never came.

Amanda turned over on her back and suppressed a groan. Her pussy was swollen from snippets of erotic thoughts that flitted through her head when her mind was not focused on something else. She had been fed so much of the arousal-inducing drug that she feared it had left her in a state of permanent low-level sexual heat.

She lay a finger against her sealed slit. It came back slick with moisture.

Amanda sighed and closed her eyes, despite how useless the gesture was for obtaining any more sleep. When her mind did not flirt with sexual matters, her thoughts came back to her encounter with Mandas, which dredged up thoughts of Oceanus she wanted to keep buried. She believed pining for a life she could no longer have would shatter what little emotional stability she had gained. Yet the memories persisted, and with them came questions.

Just how did the Inonni do it? How did they open their Portals to so many places at once and conquer a nation virtually overnight? Who held the focusing pearls for them? And what of Roquan's last task to her, which was to find correlations in the slave manifest for another Overlord who had sold all his slaves to the Inonni?

She remembered the manifest had shown the Overlord had gained slaves from nearly every other Overlord. She knew the Inonni had opened Portals to every Overlord Manor. With her limited understanding of Portal mechanics, she could not connect the two as anything more than coincidence.

When she had been brought to see Roquan one last time, Roquan's quarters had been immolated, but neither Roquan nor his guards had shown any sign of being burned. She had assumed the Inonni had torched it as a symbol of their conquest of the Manor. The invasion had taken the Manors first, and only then did they move on to the Noble Lords. This had made no sense to Amanda, as she believed logic dictated the Nobility -- the actual ruling class -- should be taken first.

A fantastic thought came to her: what if Roquan had burned down his quarters to prevent the Inonni from gaining his records? But, again, why? What was the connection between that and the Inonni conquest?

Amanda turned on her side, clamping her thighs closed over her wanting pussy. She clenched her teeth to suppress a curse. She loathed Mandas for forcing her to spin in the same circles of useless thought which had plagued her first quarter moon away from Oceanus.

She lifted her head when she heard the clank of the door to the slave quarters. She already had her feet to the floor and was standing up as a servant entered the chamber and bellowed, "All slaves awaken and present!"

Amanda stood by her niche and spread her feet apart, then clasped her hands behind her head and thrust out her chest. The lead servant approached the nearest of Norlan's slaves in apparent inspection as other servants carried trays laden with fresh fruits and bread. Amanda had her doubts the servant was "inspecting" anything; it was just one of the many excuses they used to take advantage of the slaves.

Amanda was not exempt. He cast a lascivious gaze at her breasts, then fondled them in his rough fingers until she let out a small moan. He moved a finger in a circle, and she turned around. He squeezed her ass cheeks and gave each one a single stinging slap. By the time he was done with her, she was panting softly, and her sex seal ran slick with her moisture.

Only when the servant had finished his morning abuse of the slaves were they allowed to join each other at the table. Amanda forced herself to eat despite her lack of appetite. Even the distraction of an aching pussy and the smell of freshly baked bread was not enough to pull her back to the present.

Amanda flinched when she felt a light touch on her arm.

"Is something the matter?" asked Larra, feigning a look of concern.

"No," Amanda said, and crammed another bite of bread into her mouth.

"You should talk about it if something is bothering you."

Amanda kept her eyes on the meal. You're not my Trainer, you're not even my superior, not really, Amanda thought the words she wished she could say. I don't have to do a damn thing you say.

"I understand Master Norlan is upset with you."

Amanda swallowed her bite of bread without chewing it thoroughly. It lodged in her throat, and she coughed through a second attempt to swallow it. She clenched her teeth and kept her eyes averted. Stop trying to bait me!

"Brooding over it will only make matters worse, and he will sell you off before your time. Or send you back to the Slavemasters. Or maybe he'll decide he doesn't like an undraughted slave after all."

Amanda whipped her head around. "Shut up."

Dead silence suddenly descended upon the table. Amanda's eyes flicked over to the other slaves, who stared back with expressions which ranged from vapid confusion to vague shock. She turned her gaze back to Larra. Larra's eyes were dark and unreadable, but one corner of her mouth twitched upward.

"Fine," Amanda hissed. "Now you have something to report. That's what you're always looking for anyway."

The latch of the chamber door clicked back, but Amanda did not turn her head towards it. Her gaze remained fixed on the sly smile curling Larra's lips.

Larra's hand shot up. Amanda raised her own to ward off a blow, only to hear a sharp slap without feeling any pain. She lowered her arms in time to see Larra fling herself from her chair with a loud cry, which tipped over and clattering to the stone floor.

Larra shot a hurt look at Amanda, and Amanda's eyes widened. Larra's cheek was red with the faint marks from Larra's own fingers.

Amanda was so shocked she did not hear the rumble of booted feet as they pounded through the chamber. Before she understood what was happening, a servant grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. Another yanked Larra from the floor.

"What in bloody hellfire is this?!" Halno bellowed as he faced the two slaves. The others had left the table and retreated a safe distance.

"Th-this slave doesn't know!" Larra cried, her eyes glistening. "This slave was trying to talk to the dark-haired slave, and she slapped this slave across the face!"

Amanda was too stunned to speak.

"Please, this slave did nothing wrong! This slave only wanted to befriend her. This slave only--"

"You liar!" Amanda shouted.

"--then she just slapped this slave for no reason!"

"I did not! Stop lying to them! I didn't touch--"

Amanda's cry became a scream as white hot pain slashed across her ass cheeks. She crumpled to the floor as the pain seared into her, as if a molten rod was burning and charring its way into her body. She clenched her teeth to suppress another scream, which emerged instead as a keening whimper.

Finally, the pain abated, and the ugly red mark across her tender flesh faded. Looming over her was the servant who had grabbed her, a punishment rod in his hand. Halno strode forward and yanked the rod from his hand. "And when did I appoint you to be in charge of slave discipline?"

"I'm sorry, Master Halno, but you heard her, she said a word forbidden to--"

"I have ears. I heard. Now stand aside, you dolt."

The rod cracked across the back of Amanda's thighs twice, then three times across the back of the calves. Red welts swelled and radiated agony through skin, muscle, and bone, before vanishing and removing all evidence of the abuse.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. The mantra repeated in Amanda's head between blows, even as tears leaked from around her closed eyes. Don't cry! No one will care! No one will want to comfort me! DON'T CRY! DON'T...

At the last blow, Amanda went limp and sobbed, tears dripping and pooling in the grout between the stones of the floor.

Halno sighed and shook his head. He handed the rod back to the servant. "This will not be nearly enough. She has been a discipline problem since she arrived. I will tend to this matter myself."

He hauled Amanda to her feet. Amanda forced her body to respond, as much as she wanted to remain a rag doll and lay prostrate and defeated. She did not have that luxury. She wiped her eyes and bit her lip hard until the pain helped her refocus.

Halno gestured to another servant, and Amanda's wrists were yanked behind her back. A muscle twinged in her arm as it was stretched too hard, but she did not react; nothing could compare to what she had just experienced. Shackles snapped into place, tight and pinching. Halno attached a chain to her collar and yanked. Amanda stumbled forward, falling to one knee. Halno pulled on the chain until the collar choked off her breath, forcing her to rise to her feet coughing, her throat raw.

"So what are you going to do to her?" the servant asked in a voice that made Amanda's skin crawl.

"Nothing you can watch, if that is what you are implying. Begin preparing the other slaves and see if the one that was slapped needs attention."

Amanda kept her eyes averted. Self-pity was not allowed to her, but her emotions needed an outlet. She channeled it into anger instead. Not at Larra, as that was pointless, and not at Halno, as that would make things worse for her. She instead seethed at her fellow spineless slaves. All of them were looking directly at her and could have told them the truth. Had this been Roquan's Manor...

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut against a threatened new flood of tears.

Halno started towards the chamber door. Amanda fell into step behind him and tried not to think about the shelves and shelves of rods, crops, restraints, and gags which festooned Halno's quarters.

As they entered the hallway, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head in time to see a maid duck into a side corridor. In her moment of distraction, she failed to notice Halno had stopped, and she gasped when his face suddenly loomed not a hand's breadth from hers.

"I did not expect to waste my valuable time with you," Halno said, his face twisted into a vile sneer. "I had hoped to be free of you today. You have most effectively foiled those plans. Therefore, I will draw my compensation from you. You have learned to take pain-to-pleasure. You will know only pain today. And I will recommend that Master Norlan leave you sealed for the next two seasons."

Amanda was too numb to react, either to him or in the confines of her own head, though her heart hammered as he led her down the corridor once more. Her feet felt like lead weights, and she stumbled with each vicious yank on the chain.

Amanda did not need to repeat the mantra any longer; she was beyond crying now. She hoped the numbness would stay. Or they would give her the Draught, and she could forget she ever knew of anyone named Sirinna or any place named Oceanus.

"Master 'alno! 'ere now, 'old up. Oi!"

Halno came to a stop with a sigh and slump of his shoulders. "What in hellfire is it now that cannot wait?" he said as he turned around. He looked past Amanda and frowned. "And what is it you want?"

Amanda turned her head and blinked out of her reverie of despair long enough to recognize Bessa as she bounded over to them. "Soirry t' bother yew, Master 'alno, but wot are yew doin' wi' Ama ... ah, the dark-'aired one 'ere?"

"And just what is that to you?"

Bessa put her hands on her hips. "Well, ain't Lord Norlan roundin' up all his slaves fer the crew o' the Oceanus fleet?"

"As if that is something you should concern yourself with."

"Sure in 'ellfire, it is, if I gotta help in cleanin' them up! An' this one's 'bout t' go missin', an' I ain't gonna be blamed fer it!"

Amanda stared. In all her emotional turmoil, she had all but forgotten Norlan would be offering his slaves to the fleet.

Halno sighed. "Then I absolve you. You will have one less slave to deal with. Satisfied?"

"Ain't me wot's gotta be sat'sfied. It's Lord Norlan."

Halno frowned. "I beg your pardon? What is this about?"

"Yew is goin' off wi' the slave 'e wants, is wot it's about! 'e asked fer 'er t' be included wi' the rest of 'em, is wot 'e did!"

"He would not have if he had witnessed what just happened in the slave quarters!"

"Well, 'e didn't, an' I ain't gonna be the one t' tell 'im."

"Bloody hellfire, I cannot Farview him now! I can only wait until he contacts me."

Bessa shrugged. "Beggin' yer pardon, Master 'alno, but that's yer funeral, not mine."

"This is ridiculous." He snapped the chain. Amanda wheezed as the collar briefly bit into her throat. She thought she saw Bessa wince. "I do not even know why I am arguing with a washing maid."

Halno started to walk away. Amanda side stepped after him, still looking back at Bessa. Bessa's mouth opened, her hands curling into fists as her face screwed up in frantic thought. "Um ... then check wi' Marris, an' 'e'll vouch fer it!"

Halno stopped.

"Or did yew ferget that this one's from Oceanus, an' that this fleet is from Oceanus? Don't yew think 'is Lordship would want a slave who can please 'em roight?"

Halno spun around. "All right, enough, enough! Just stop talking so I don't have to hear that atrocious assault to the Urisi language that is your speech." He looked down the corridor towards the slave quarters. "The others have already been taken to be prepared. I will have to take her myself. I do not have time for these useless diversions!"

So punishing me is not a useless diversion? came Amanda's acid thought.

Bessa paused, then took a deep breath and let it go. She held out her hand. "Then I'll take 'er."

Halno raised an eyebrow. "You?"

"'sroight, me. Wot, yew think I'm like those other silly cunts that think she's got something that's gonna rub off on me? Mebbe yew should remember that, that I know 'ow t' get the job done when--"

"All right, shut up." He thrust the end of the chain towards Bessa. "Take her. Just ... just don't talk."

Bessa paused, then grasped the chain in her hand. Halno spun on his heel and marched away. Bessa watched him go, then let out a tremulous sigh and fell against the wall, wiping her brow.

Amanda's eyes darted from the corridor to Bessa, as if unsure whether to believe what had just transpired. She glanced towards either end of the corridor before whispering to Bessa, "Did Master Norlan really ask for me?"

Bessa pushed herself away from the wall and pressed her finger to her lips. She gathered the chain fully in her hands and gestured for Amanda to follow. "I saw wot 'appened in there, luv. That Larra's been a bitch from the first day 'is Lordship got 'er. She's not Draughted, yew see. But if there was anyone who ever deserved it ... bloody 'ellfire, I should shush. I gotta get yew t' the others and get t' Marris in case 'alno really does check wi'--"

"So he didn't ask for me."

Bessa did not respond, but her eyes wavered.

Amanda's mouth fell open. She could only think what she dared not give voice to: Bessa LIED for me.

"Lord Norlan does want 'is slaves sent t' the docks over in Port 'eldon," Bessa said. "That's as true as I am standin' 'ere, even if 'e didn't ask f' yew in partic'lar. An' it's well over 'alf a day's travel, so sooner we get yew t' where yew gotta go, the better. Come along, luv."

Amanda nodded and stepped behind Bessa. She allowed herself a small smile. She had finally found an ally.

The ruined castle faced the sea, where the violent ocean currents hurled a tempest upon the cliff on which it sat. A perpetual roar of froth and mist rose even to the highest of the ramparts, where magic-induced breezes blew outward through the windows to keep the damp and the brine out of clothing and bedding.

The thick walls still bore the large cracks which had all but shattered the citadel's final defenses in the last days of the final uprising against the Urisi Mage-Kings, part of the larger worldwide conflict against the power of the Mages millennia before. Only a final truce had spared the castle complete destruction. It had been preserved in this state, at the precipice of final decay but never tumbling over it.

On the landward side, the castle bore a great gash of broken stone and splintered wood straight to the throne room, as if a huge dagger had pierced its heart. The great throne of the last of the Mage-Kings lay in heaps of broken and rusting metal atop a cracked dais. Like the rest, it remained as it had been, preserved as a monument to a past which should not be repeated.

Among the ruins of the courtyard, caravans laden with platinum and magical wares trundled forth towards the long, winding road away from the castle. The merchants at the head of these wheeled behemoths kept a steady and skilled hand upon the reins, leading their horses in an unerring, safe path towards the valley far below. The last caravan was slow to ready itself for transport, as several Mages still lingered, eying the remaining wares.

Finally the clan leader called out from near the middle of the convoy, and the last caravan was thrown together for transport at a speed which amazed the onlookers. The remaining Mages were about to turn away when a merchant ran up to them, brandishing a scroll tied with a dark blue ribbon.

A young Mage with cropped black hair turned towards the merchant, nonplussed when the scroll was slapped into his hands. The Mage appeared even more astonished at the merchant's animated speech. Unable to get in a word edgewise, the Mage held the scroll as if intending to give it back, but the merchant leapt onto the caravan as it shuddered into motion.

"I am not even sure our charter allows him to accept it!" the Mage shouted as a final protest, but a cloud of dust had risen in the wake of the grinding wheels of the caravan. He heaved a great sigh and stared at the scroll. "For the love of the gods..."

Another passing Mage turned his gaze toward the first and raised an imperious eyebrow. He stepped forward and pointed at the scroll, his nose wrinkling as if he had suddenly smelled something rancid. "That seal cannot be from whom I think it is."

"From the Oceanus Mage Guild, yes," said the first in a worried tone.

"And are you actually going to give it to the Magistrate?"

"I have little choice in the matter!" He sighed. "He always blames me for any bad news he receives."

"Stop being overly dramatic, Illas. He is simply stressed with having to deal with the nonsensical rumors that have been flying about."

Illas, Fourth Advisor to the Urisi Mage Magistrate, looked at his peer in puzzlement. "What rumors?"

The other Mage rolled his eyes. "Surely you of all people would know--"

"Blast that, I am Fourth Advisor! I am not privy to such things. What of this?"

"Somehow there is this preposterous notion flying about that the recent conquerers of Oceanus are wielding some strange new form of Portal magic."

Illas looked down at the scroll and brightened. "Perhaps, then, this is a missive from the Oceanus Guildmaster dispelling such foolish notions. If anyone would know, it would be him."

"I somehow doubt it will be resolved that easily. But you'd best be getting it to the Magistrate."

"Yes, at once!" Illas dashed away.

The roiling sea could be heard even in the little room at the top of the tallest spire of the castle over the incessant scratch of quill across ancient parchment. A thin man with a drawn face and a graying goatee sat poised over the yellowed scroll which trailed off the great oak desk and across the stone floor.

The old Mage tapped the feather end of the quill against his chin before setting the writing tip to the parchment again. It scratched over the existing words, absorbing the ink as if it were new, leaving the parchment bare. He considered for a moment, then wrote new words to take their place.

He heard exactly three light raps against the thick metal door of his office. He appeared not to have heard, altering three more sentences on the scroll before finally announcing without looking up, "Enter if you absolutely must."