Chapter 3

The last quarter moon had convinced Lord Ambassador Mandas that the sole purpose of an architecture which advocated long, wide hallways festooned with statues of scowling royalty and state ministers of the past was to intimidate people like him as they scurried about their official business.

Mandas had become inured to most of them as he dashed from one high official to another to gather more information for the King on the impending crisis with Oceanus. He had been shocked to hear that Oceanus was demanding that the fleet crew be incarcerated. While the language of the demand flowed with the elegance of experienced diplomacy, there was no question that it was a demand, pure and simple.

Yet one hallway still induced a heart-pounding anxiety that would not abate until he was away with his title still intact. He paused just short of the guarded doors and tugged his tunic down to flatten any wrinkles. He swept his hand over his head to ensure that his hair was still smoothed down against his scalp. He tugged at the ends of his wiry mustache to ensure the hairs were still drawn together to thin points. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Lord Ambassador Mandas answering the summons of His Excellency the High Minister of State Erodon," Mandas said in a crisp voice.

"His Excellency is not in his office, my Lord," said one of the guards.

"Oh, bloody hellfire," Mandas muttered, his shoulders slumping as if deflated.

"He is in conference with His Majesty. You are to wait in his office until he returns."

The guard opened the doors. Mandas held himself erect as he stepped into the chamber.

Like the hallways, chambers for high officials were larger than they needed to be. A massive desk atop a low dais dominated the center. Thick columns marched about the circumference, each holding a single, ornamental torch that glowed with subdued heatless flames. A brighter oil lantern hung above the desk like a spotlight.

Mandas took his position as he would were the High Minister in attendance, about halfway between the door and the desk. A few moments later, he sidestepped several arm's length to the right as he remembered the proper protocol.

Mandas cast a wary glance towards the doors before he allowed himself a small sigh and a frown. Norlan was to blame for his predicament beyond just the loss of his influence among the High Lords. Mandas was sure that Norlan had done something to antagonize Oceanus when he made his deal for their slaves. Now Mandas was going to be tasked with picking up the pieces.

He heard hurried and heavy footsteps in the hall. Mandas swallowed and drew himself up straight as the doors opened and High Minister Erodon barreled into the chamber. He clutched several scrolls to his corpulent frame, scowling. Mandas' step to the side allowed Erodon to go past without having to come too close to his lesser.

Erodon stomped up the dais and threw the scrolls to the desk. He looked at Mandas and frowned. "And what in bloody blazes are you doing here, Mandas?"

Mandas' mouth worked for a few moments without any sound issuing forth. He took a quick breath and let it go in a gush of words, "You summoned me here, Your Excellency, and I came straight away from my conference with--"

Erodon waved a beefy hand and dropped into his chair. "I trust I do not need to explain to you the nature of the crisis. For if I do, I will tell His Majesty now to excuse you from further ambassadorial duties."

"Certainly not, Your Excellency!" Mandas declared, earning a piercing stare from Erodon. He cleared his throat. "What I mean, Your Excellency, is that it behooves me as His Majesty's Foreign Relations Advisor to remain abreast of all matters which may affect the disposition of--"

"Must you answer everything with a dissertation, Mandas?"

Mandas' jaw clenched. "No, Your Excellency."

Erodon uttered a windy sigh and laced his fingers together. "And allow me to deflate what is undoubtedly a rapidly swelling ego. You may wish to trot out this 'Foreign Relations Adviser' position as if it somehow put you in the line of succession to the Throne, but understand that there is no such position. His Majesty conjured it on the spot, and you will cease to speak or act as if you were a full Minister."

Mandas hid his chagrin "Yes, Your Excellency."

"It is one more insanity piled atop another! It has taken me the better part of the morning just to help His Majesty craft a response to the Oceanus Emperor."

Mandas once again steeled himself against reacting. He thought he should have been privy to that discussion. He wondered if his tasks that morning had been busywork intended to keep him from that conference. "What was His Majesty's response, Your Excellency?"

Erodon's fingers tightened. "We will accede to their demands," he said in a low voice.

Mandas blanched. "Your Excellency, is that not a breach of Urisi sovereignty?"

"And you would have us defy them, would you, Mandas?"

Mandas hesitated. Was this a test? Erodon was fond of asking such things just to trip up the ambassador. "Surely there would be a way to reach a middle ground. Or, failing that, a delay."

Erodon's busy eyebrows rose, and he leaned back in his seat. "Astonishing. One would be led to believe that you can actually think and reason properly."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Mandas said in a flat voice.

"We have agreed to hold the fleet in port and refuse them general liberty until representatives of the Oceanus government arrive to deal with the situation."

"But how is that going to help, Your Excellency, when they can arrive by Portal to--"

"Ah, that's better. You once more live down to my expectations and all is right with my world-view again."

Mandas said nothing. Any request for clarification would just be thrown back at him.

"We have informed Oceanus that we would have no available Portal for them due to extensive maintenance. They will have to come by ship. This will delay their arrival for at least two moons, possibly three, given the unfavorable spring weather."

"Surely they did not believe that we coincidentally had all our Portals down."

"Of course they did not believe it!" Erodon said. "What nation would believe such a story? But they accepted it as we had hoped they would."

Mandas understood. If the High Minister did not intimidate him so, he would have reached that conclusion himself. It was all part of the political game. It told him also that Oceanus was not interested in provoking a conflict. They would believe it to be only a test that the new regime in Oceanus would continue to foster a good relationship with the Urisi.

"His Majesty wanted this delay for a reason, and that, sadly, is where you come in."

Mandas stiffened. "Yes, I have been gathering information as he had requested, Your Excellency, and I am ready to compile a report for His Majesty's perusal."

Erodon rolled his eyes. "It should be obvious even to someone as simple as you that there is something more to this rogue fleet than we are being told. Something about it is of vital importance to Oceanus. His Majesty wants to know exactly what that is."

Several questions popped into Mandas' head, and Erodon glared at him as if daring him to give them voice. One was why the Urisi would want to know what was so important about the fleet, but the answer was obvious: His Majesty wanted political leverage against the new regime. "Your Excellency, if I may ask, do we know if the Oceanus delegates will arrive in a single ship, or in multiple ships?"

Erodon frowned. "What difference does that make?"

"Because, Your Excellency, I see three possibilities here."

Erodon's eyebrows rose. "Three? Are you quite sure you learned the rudiments of math during your upbringing?"

Mandas was undeterred. He was too proud for having the flash of inspiration. Despite what Norlan must tell others about him, Mandas was good at piecing together the clues. "One: Oceanus simply wants to arrest the crew and return them to their homeland for formal trial. Two: the fleet has valuable goods that Oceanus wishes to liberate from them before they let us deal with the crew as we see fit."

Erodon nodded. "Yes, yes, and what is this magical third option you supposedly see?"

"That they wish only one man from among the crews of the ships."

Erodon paused, his teeth grinding as if he were searching for some way to ridicule Mandas' theory and coming up empty.

"You see the obvious implication of this, Your Excellency. If they come in only one ship, then they expect to--"

"Yes, yes! I am not stupid, Mandas." Erodon let out a windy sigh. "I do not know the answer to your question. If the answer makes it to my ears or my desk, I will pass it along to you."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," said Mandas, letting his lips curl into a small, satisfied smile. "Is there anything else you need to convey to me?"

Erodon scowled. "Yes. You will not be working alone."

The corners of Mandas' mouth twitched.

Erodon spoke his next words through clenched teeth. "I am forced to ... I must insist that you work with Lord Ambassador Norlan."

Mandas gaped at the High Minister. "I-I'm sorry, Your Excellency, I don't believe I heard you correctly."

Erodon slapped his hands against the desk. Mandas flinched and almost drew back a step. "I do not like this either!" Erodon thundered. "But the High Lords are insistent and will not stop giving His Majesty grief over it. His Majesty will also feel grief over any refusal on your part, and when the King gets grief, I get grief. Thus your refusal to work with Norlan will ultimately mean grief for me. And you don't want that, do you, Mandas?"

"No, Your Excellency, most certainly not!" Mandas said. He was well aware that the High Minister could make Mandas' life far more miserable than the King ever could.

"One more thing, Mandas," said Erodon. "His Majesty will not tolerate anything that gives the slightest leverage to the High Lords. You are not to allow Norlan to make any deals that will richify the High Lords, either in platinum or influence."

Mandas hesitated. The High Minister had asked him the equivalent of preventing the sun from setting that evening.

"Do I make myself clear, Mandas?"

"As crystal, Your Excellency."

To this end, Mandas had no idea how to proceed. If the ships indeed held treasure, or even if they carried no more than critical information, he would be hard-pressed to prevent the High Lords from copping a deal through Norlan.

For once, Norlan could ride the coattails of his own reputation. Mandas had no such luxury.

"Then do grant me some mercy, and remove yourself from my presence until you have something concrete to report." Erodon waved a hand at Mandas, and from that point on, the ambassador no longer existed. The High Minister opened a scroll and twirled his quill as he contemplated the words he read.

Mandas withheld his sigh until he was out of the chamber and the doors had closed behind him. He trudged down the hallway, shoulders slumped. He had thought his worst nightmare would be the loss of his title after a meeting with the High Minister. It would have been preferred over a forced partnership with Norlan.

It got worse as he entered the anteroom at the other end of the hall and stopped just past the threshold, his eyes narrowing to beads. "And just what in hellfire are you doing here, Norlan?"

Norlan sat in an overstuffed chair across the small, round chamber that was often used as a lounge for waiting dignitaries. He seemed to ignore Mandas' question as he rang a small bell perched atop one of the hand-rests. A servant entered, carrying a gleaming gold platter with several crystal goblets filled with pale red wine.

Mandas' jaw tightened as Norlan plucked a goblet from the tray. The servant turned to him, but he shook his head. "You continue to play the part of the sophisticate, but we both know you are no better than a peasant."

Norlan took a slow sip of his wine. "Really, Mandas, you must get new material. The whole peasant insult is getting old. Besides, is that any way to talk to your partner?"

Mandas refused to be baited. Too many times he had let his hatred of this pretender get the better of him. Instead, he forced a tiny smile. "Oh, this must surely offend you, considering how incompetent you believe I am."

"I do admit," began Norlan as he stood. He took another sip of wine. "I am concerned you will slow me down."

Mandas bit back an automatic reply. He did not have the luxury of tossing insults, and then sulk when they bounced off that maddening armor of calm. Mandas instead considered and smiled. "Now who is the one with old insults? And this is not a partnership, Norlan, not in the slightest sense."

Norlan said nothing, lifting the goblet to his lips as he continued to regard Mandas with an even gaze.

"This is a competition, pure and simple," said Mandas.

Norlan lowered the goblet. "Oh? You believe you have something on which--"

"I feel that we need to be up-front about this," said Mandas, raising his voice. "Oh, I will work with you, as much as it will offend both our sensibilities, if for no other reason than it would be both our necks if we failed."

"Ah, yes, but failed at what?"

Mandas frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"What exactly are we to do, and what are the criteria for success? What if this is indeed just some internal Oceanus matter despite all the bluster?"

Mandas sneered. "You don't believe that for a moment. And neither do I."

Norlan flinched in an exaggerated movement. "Did you shock the High Minister as much as you did me just now with this startling display of competency?"

Mandas clenched his jaw until it ached. One hand curled into a fist, trembled, then released as a slow breath passed his lips. "A competition," Mandas repeated in a tense voice. "Neither of us can fail, but one us will end in higher esteem than the other."

"True. Though I daresay one of us has a head start."

"Amazing. You have all the appearance of having elevated yourself in social stature yet you continue to act the part of the pea ... the primitive. You have not even hosted--"

"A High Feast," said Norlan, and Mandas was treated to the first crack in Norlan's calm facade. "I am getting to that."

"Perhaps you are not so fond of the High Lords seeing that hovel you call a palace. Or those barely-trained bitches you call slaves."

Norlan had resumed drinking his wine as Mandas spoke and stopped only when Mandas stopped. "We will require a manifest."

Mandas blinked. "A what?"

"A manifest. Or have you not yet considered the possibilities concerning what secrets this fleet holds?"

"I have already considered that, you oaf," Mandas growled. "We will require one of both cargo and the crew."

Norlan hesitated. Mandas wanted to believe it was in genuine surprise. He already faced the prospect that this was going to be a net loss for him in the end. No matter how brightly he shone, no matter how much diplomatic prowess he displayed, he could hope only to keep himself from slipping any further. Norlan had only to maintain the status quo. Without a loss to Norlan's prestige, Mandas would get nowhere.

"Yes, the crewmen as well, or had the great Norlan mind not pondered that yet?" Mandas said.

"It is an unlikely possibility. If that were the case, why such secrecy? Would it not be simpler to claim that the fleet played host to a criminal, then identify that man and request we keep him in custody? Certainly His Majesty would have been far more amenable to such a thing, and we would not be standing here under the pretense of cooperation."

Mandas smirked. "What's this? The great Norlan does not already have the answers?"

Norlan sighed. "Really, one would think that the last time you tried to best me would have taught you that the way to gain influence is to not be such a crashing bore. Good day to you."

Norlan turned and strode out of the room.

Mandas trembled with the effort to hold his tongue, but hold it he did until Norlan had disappeared down another passage. "You uncultured, hairy-faced cretin," Mandas muttered. "You uneducated, underhanded..."

He trailed off and fell into the chair that Norlan had vacated. He slammed his fist against the hand-rest, dislodging the bell. It tinkled as it struck the floor, and the servant appeared at the entrance with his tray.

Mandas eyed the goblets of wine with a forlorn gaze, then waved the servant away.

Mandas was sure he was right. There was something of vital importance to this fleet that Oceanus wished to keep secret, so much so that they were willing to commit this insult to Urisi sovereignty.

Yet even if he were right, his moment would be a candle to Norlan's lighthouse beacon. Mandas corrected himself. This was still a competition, but not just one where Mandas had to win. In addition, Norlan had to lose.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. A plan had begun to take shape amongst his darker thoughts.

Amanda had been left with little to contemplate save her own escalating wet arousal as she knelt in the pleasure chamber waiting for her Master. She had been spared an excessive dose of the cherry-flavored arousal elixir that day, but her pussy oozed and buzzed with the constant, maddening stimulation from her nipples.

A servant had brought her to the chamber soon after the evening meal. He had arranged her, chaining each wrist to an ankle to prevent her from standing or touching herself, and unsealed her. After a crude fondling of her breasts to bring about her initial wetness, he had clipped to each of her stiffening nipples a thin chain ending in a tiny blue gemstone, similar to the ubiquitous blue pearl used in so many magic spells.

Amanda shuddered and uttered a low, quavering moan. Her pussy throbbed faintly with her heartbeat as a puff of air swirled around her breasts. The gemstones resonated with the flow, tiny vibrations quivering up the chains and into her nipples. Her sex steamed and swelled.

She closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths to clear her mind. Norlan would sometimes leave her in the pleasure chamber for a full candlemark -- or as near as she could figure with only her own perception as a time cue -- so that by the time he arrived, her thoughts and body were tuned to his sexual need and little else.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes. The chamber was round and windowless, the stone walls smooth and dyed in a faint pattern of earth tones. Four torches burned in heatless silence. No exit was apparent. The floor had vanished under many layers of thick furs. Air blew in gentle drafts through evenly-spaced gaps in the stone, as it did in many parts of the palace.

She had to remind herself it was still evening. It could be any time of the day or night here, or any season, or any weather. She wished Norlan would use her in his bed chamber. It had a wide, tall window that filled the chamber with soft, milky brilliance. She had glimpsed it once on a night of a full moon. The moon had cast a silvery glow that could be romantic in another context.

Roquan had been wrong. The Urisi were not as "crude" as he had suggested. They were sophisticated psychologists, their practices honed to the task of isolating a slave from everything save her duty, a complete depersonalization that made it very easy for the slave to consider herself nothing more than property.

Amanda spread her knees apart a little further. The gemstones swayed, and the chains tinkled as they buzzed like bees against her nipples. Amanda let her breath out as a quavering, husky moan as pleasure pulsed in her sex.

I'm still a person, Amanda thought, though it was soon lost in the rising tide of lust. She shivered, which jostled the gemstones again. She whimpered as her pussy strained for a moment before retreating from the edge.

The dull metallic thud of a latch being pulled back announced her Master's arrival. Amanda fought not to feel relief and anticipation and lost. Her hands clenched and unclenched as they tugged at their restraints. Her pussy swam in moist heat, begging for attention. It would have to wait, for her arrangement told her what Norlan wanted first.

A section of wall shimmered. An illusion dissolved and revealed a wooden door as it swung outward. Amanda was surprised to see it open on her left. She was sure she had been arranged facing the door, unless her lust had left her so disoriented that only sex mattered now.