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Subject: {ASSM} Conclave of Conspiracy 32/33 (MF Mf mf Ff ff Mdom Fdom toys bd rom magic oral 1st spank)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter32.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: Conclave of Conspiracy
Universe: Narlass Chronicles
Summary: Roquan hosts a Conclave to rally support against the Emperor;
Amanda's training is not what she expected, even less so when the
Conclave commences. And there is the mysterious foreign merchant ...

Part: 32 of 33
Keywords: MF, Mf, mf, Ff, ff, Mdom, Fdom, toys, bd, rom, magic, oral,
1st, spank

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2006

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/A_Strange_Geek/www/novels/Conclave/Chapter32.html



---------------

Vanlo uttered a long sigh. He cast his tired eyes down at his patient.

The bolt was out. The wound was closed and starting to knit. He applied
more of the salve to it now that she could stand it, now that there was
no longer raw muscle and tendon exposed, and it would start to knit a
little faster.

But the girl's skin was still deathly pale. The bolt had gone deep and
nicked the major artery. Before they got her to Vanlo, she had bled
profusely. Her breathing had been very shallow. She was better now, but
she still had far less blood in her body than she ought.

She needed a restorative draught, one that would accelerate her blood
replacement.

Vanlo stood back. He was alone in the treatment room with Amanda. He
had forcibly cleared everyone out, including the Overlord. He could not
work on such a critical case with a great many people about.

Making restoratives was the supreme test of a Healer's ability. It
required a great deal of attention to detail, timing, and -- most of
all -- confidence in one's abilities.

He had everything but the last.

He contemplated asking the Overlord to power the Portal to bring a
proper Healer from the Guild Hall faster, but it would take half a day
at least for even just a local trip across Narlass. He was not sure
Amanda had that long. He spent a good deal of time wracking his brains
coming up with an alternative. He came up with nothing.

Nothing except himself.

He looked back down at Amanda. If he did nothing, she might die. She
might also recover on her own. If he made the restorative, and it was
wrong, she might die. Or she might not.

Vanlo sighed. He was not even given the luxury of an assurance that she
would die if he did nothing.

Finally he turned away from Amanda's still body. He went over to the
shelves and began to gather the ingredients he needed.



News of the incident spread quickly. It was Rennis that had first
noticed something wrong. First the shade had suddenly come down, then
there was the commotion and finally loud shouts. It was when Roquan had
bellowed Amanda's name that finally had alerted him that something was
wrong.

At first, the other Overlords looked on only curiously, thinking that
it had been a case of a debate that had turned to fisticuffs. It was
only when Amanda had been carried out, the crossbow bolt spearing her
calf and leaving a bright red trail of blood as they carried her from
the bluff, had a sudden, shocked silence fallen on the others.

Doran had been the first to venture into Gronnus' quarters after the
Overlord had staggered out, pale and ill. Then Doran had looked inside
and had become ill as well when his gaze had fallen on the body of the
merchant, a pool of blood under him, a dagger lodged in his neck.

Rennis had taken Doran to Roquan's quarters at this point, expecting
that Roquan would meet them there once he got Amanda to the Healer.
Gronnus had tagged along, not knowing what else to do, and not wanting
to be alone at this point to face the rest of the Conclave.

All three of them were trying to calm their nerves with some of
Roquan's wine when the Overlord returned to his quarters. Rennis surged
forward immediately. "Roquan! How is she? Will she be ...?"

Roquan ignored him. His eyes were fixed on Gronnus. Rennis stopped when
he saw the blazing, raw fury in them. Roquan pushed past Rennis,
grabbed the surprised Gronnus by his shirt and slammed his back into
one of the wooden support poles, causing his goblet to fly from his
hand and spill red wine over the floor.

"Roquan! Roquan, what are you ...!" Doran shouted in warning, stepping
forward. Rennis grabbed his arm and held him back, giving Doran a
meaningful look and shaking his head.

"Make no mistake about this, Gronnus," Roquan snarled. "If Amanda dies,
I place the blame at your feet. If she dies, you are through as an
Overlord. If the Conclave won't depose you, /I will kill you myself./"

Gronnus was too scared to speak for a moment. His mouth worked with no
sound coming out. Finally he managed to croak, "R-Roquan, p-please ...
I didn't ... I d-didn't mean for her to ..."

"Just like you did not mean to collude with the Emperor in the first
place?!" Roquan thundered.

Doran's eyes became saucers. "What?!"

"Roquan! I-I didn't understand! I d-didn't know your position! Please,
be reasonable! ... I-I thought I was doing what was best for the
Overlords! For Oceanus! Please!"

Roquan paused for a moment, then let go of the Overlord's shirt, taking
a step back.

Gronnus let go a sigh of relief. It was short-lived. The next moment
his head whipped to one side as Roquan's fist struck home, sending him
crashing to the floor. A trickle of blood oozed from one corner of his
mouth.

Neither Rennis nor Doran made any effort to help the fallen Overlord.

Roquan took a single, long, deep breath and let it go. He turned
crisply to face the others.

"Amanda is in grave condition at the moment, but Vanlo is tending to
her," he said calmly. He glanced at Gronnus as the Overlord struggled
to sit up. "The assassin is dead, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Rennis asked dubiously.

"He could have told us more about what the Emperor is planning." Roquan
turned his head back towards Gronnus. "Perhaps that was the true reason
you were so adamant about taking the dagger while I was struggling with
the merchant."

Doran slowly sank into a chair. "Great gods ..."

"I hate to be the practical one at this point, Roquan," Rennis said
somberly. "But there's no question about where the Conclave vote will
go now. Not once they learn about this."

"Yes, and it had to take a trail of blood in the sands and a dead body
for them to realize it. Pathetic."

Gronnus staggered to his feet.

Doran looked coldly at him. "And this one?" he said, gesturing as if
the man were just one of his slaves. "What of him?"

The others turned and looked at Gronnus.

The man swallowed and swiped at the blood at the corner of his mouth
with the back of one hand. His cheek and eye were already purpling. "I
didn't know he would go this far," he rasped, his eyes wild. "I never
wanted him to go this far! I told him, trying to assassinate an
Overlord would bring /civil war!/"

Roquan fixed an icy stare on him. "That does not excuse you from your
collusion with him in the first place. Give me a reason why I should
not have the Conclave hold a tribunal for your actions."

Gronnus looked on fearfully for a few moments, then slowly relaxed.
"Because, Roquan, they'll have to hold two of them. One for me, and
then one for you, and how you trained a Draughtless Captive!"

"/You foul-mouthed, lying bastard!/" Doran shouted, jumping out of his
seat. "How dare you try to impugn another Overlord by even suggesting
...!"

"Doran! Enough!" Roquan declared.

"Roquan, are you going to let him stand there and tell these lies about
you? Are you ...?"

Roquan gave him a meaningful look.

Doran subsided. His look of indignation turned to one of astonishment.
He looked over to Rennis, who gazed back fixedly. "You are not
serious," Doran said in a small voice.

Rennis simply looked at Roquan.

"It is true," said Roquan.

Doran looked aghast. "Not ... Amanda?"

"Yes. She has not had the Draught."

Doran looked beside himself. He was at a complete loss for words.

"I have already had this out with him, Doran," said Rennis. "Nothing
you can add to this would help. Or change things."

"Let me guess," Doran said flatly. "Freya knows as well. That's why
Roquan gave Amanda to her. To avoid exposure. Oh, this gets better all
the time!"

"Now is not the time to discuss this," Roquan said. "My only concern
now is Amanda's condition."

"I do not want to see her die, either!" Doran thundered. "But the
Conclave! You cannot let this get out!"

"It will not. Not unless Gronnus wishes the others to learn of his
duplicity."

"And Freya?"

Gronnus gave a bark of humorless laughter. "Like she cares. Her only
concern is for herself, and what she could gain. She doesn't care about
Roquan's little indiscretion past that."

"You sound almost disappointed," Rennis said coldly.

Gronnus glared at him. "Do not start with me on that. Do you want me to
formally declare my vote for Roquan? Fine! This is what I do! You have
it! I will not deal with an Emperor that resorts to assassination!"

"No, you do it just when it's in your best interests."

"I'll remind you, I did not hesitate to kill the assassin while Roquan
had him distracted!"

"Yes, but perhaps Roquan is right, and you killed him to prevent him
from revealing more of your dealings with the Emperor!"

"Enough," said Roquan. "This is useless. We all know each other's
transgressions. That is not what is important now. As Doran has said on
numerous occasions, the Conclave is what is important. And now they
know how treacherous Z'haas has become."

"The sooner he is off the throne, the better," Doran declared. "He is a
madman. First he tries to train his own slaves, now he sends agents
among the other Guilds." He threw up his arms dramatically. "Do we all
need to watch our backs now amongst our own slaves? Do we need to avoid
letting them leave our Manors? Do we need to watch them every moment?
Hmph. If half of what you accuse Freya of is true, Roquan, she's damn
lucky she didn't have the Imperial agent in her Manor instead of
yours!"

Roquan was about to reply when he paused. One corner of his mouth
turned upwards slightly.

Rennis noticed this and looked to him questioningly. Roquan shook his
head. "It is nothing. A stray thought about something else."

Rennis nodded. "By the way, has anyone told Uridon about this yet?"

"I suspect he knows by now." Roquan paused. "I will speak with him
later. I want to make sure he understands that the honor of his Clan is
intact. I do not hold them responsible for this."



Vanlo sat in patient concentration as he peered through the lens of a
contraption that looked like a large magnifying glass attached to a
metal arm bolted to a rolling table. It was, of course, more than it
appeared. The mechanism was enchanted, and when he looked into the
lens, depending on how he set the controls, he could see through skin,
muscle, and bone.

He once used this on Amanda to help heal a broken bone when she had
first arrived on Narlass, the result of a large hailstone from a storm
from which she had been rescued on Earth. Now he peered at her injured
leg. He was pleased with what he saw.

The artery that had been torn appeared as if nothing had ever happened
to it. Muscle and tendon had reformed. Some of the former was a little
weak. She would limp a bit for about a half moon before it healed
completely. The bone had been missed by the bolt, which was fortunate.
That much damage might have been too catastrophic for his talents.

The only difficulty he was having was the skin.

Skin was harder to manage than muscle or even bone. Getting it to come
together and work correctly was one thing; getting it to do so and
retain its proper appearance was another. When the appearance of a
slave is as important as her sexual skills, it was crucial he get this
right.

He appeared to be having success. Where the skin had knitted
completely, it was smooth and blemish free. It was only slightly
discolored from swelling, but this would pass. It would get trickier as
the healing approached the center of the wound.

He reached forward with a small probe and teased away some more scar
tissue as it crumbled in the wake of the restoration. So far, so good.

He sighed and leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was
starting to feel fatigued again. Yet he could not afford to be
fatigued, not now.

Vanlo turned the machine off and headed into his inner chamber. In the
corner, the apparatus steamed and gurgled as the ingredients of the
restorative trickled through it. Fortunately, he had all the
ingredients he needed. He felt a little better that he had done it
right, as everything appeared in the apparatus as it should. Everything
was the right color, consistency, and moved along at the proper speed.
The flask at the end was already at half the amount he needed.

He returned to his patient and placed a hand tenderly on her forehead.
Her eyelids twitched slightly. She was still very much among the land
of the living and still stable. If she could hold on a little longer,
he would have the draught ready.

He withdrew his hand and smiled slightly. He hoped to have Amanda
better by the following morning. He was most anxious to go back to his
inventory. It was quite interesting. Now he was finding other
ingredients that he had less of than he ought.



In his tent, Clan Leader Uridon's hand shook so badly that he had to
hold the glass with two hands to bring it to his lips. He took a long
draw of his brandy, sending a fiery trail down his throat. He leaned
back in his chair, feeling lightheaded. He closed his eyes.

After a few long, uneasy moments, and without opening his eyes, Uridon
finally spoke.

"All the platinum that has been spent by you and the Conclave will be
returned."

Roquan was too nonplussed to speak.

Uridon tried to take another drink and gave up, putting his glass down,
splashing brandy over the small table. He covered his face with his
hands.

"You do not have to do this, Clan Leader," Roquan said respectfully.
"You have earned that platinum. This has ..."

"I cannot accept your money! Not after this! Not after this ...
disgrace!"

"Your Clan is not at fault. I cannot emphasize this any more than I
have. No one holds you or anyone else responsible."

Uridon shot out of his seat, his face livid. "Herdon was my
responsibility!" he bellowed. "Mine alone! And I let him do this!"

"You did not let him do anything. He did not do this for you or the
Clan. He did it for the Emperor."

"/But I should have seen this!/"

Roquan remained silent. The look in Uridon's eyes was something he had
never seen before in the Clan Leader.

"Roquan, I knew that he had been a soldier for the Imperium. I knew
that he had done things that he would not tell me about. I knew he had
become ... /political/. I should never have trusted him with any duties
whatsoever. He even suggested he knew of plots against Overlords!"

"There was no way you could have known. No Emperor before this has ever
stooped to such treachery as this. This is unprecedented. When is it
normal for someone who was a mere soldier to become an assassin for the
Emperor?"

Uridon paled at the word "assassin" and had to sit down again.

"Unless there is something else about him that you know?"

The Clan Leader paused and shook his head. "He rarely gave me details
about those years in the Imperial Guard. When he did, it was only to
tell me of the prowess he had with multiple weapons." He frowned. "And
his political views. I could have done without that."

Roquan considered for a long moment. "Uridon, I do not want to see you
give up the platinum you have earned. You will be doing your Clan a
disservice. No, let me finish, Clan Leader," the Overlord said sharply
when Uridon looked about to protest. "If you wish to do something to
... to 'atone' for this ... then I ask you to become an ally."

Uridon stared at Roquan. "An ally? I don't understand."

"I fear that dangerous times are upon us, Clan Leader. While Conclaves
have in the past deposed Emperors, this will be the first time that an
Emperor may be arming against us."

Uridon looked alarmed. "Arming?! Are you quite sure?"

"Not entirely. But the signs are there."

"He would be mad to do so!"

"And what of late has happened to convince you that he is not mad?"

Uridon paused and nodded. "Point made, Overlord." He sighed. "What
would you wish of me and the Clan?"

"Information. We will need to know if Z'haas is moving to strike. Or if
he is attempting to rally the Nobility. It will not be long before he
knows of the failed attempt on my life. He will not wait for the
Overlords to act. I need information. I need it quickly." He paused.
"And I need it free of charge."

Uridon set his face hard and stood. He clasped the Overlord's hand and
shook it once. "Deal. You will have whatever information we can find."

"I will give you a Farviewing pearl before you leave the Manor. You can
use it to contact me directly. We cannot risk sending couriers."

Uridon nodded. "Yes, understandable. Wait, there may be something else
I can offer you."

"Yes?"

"If things break down ... if the worst occurs and there is war ... you
will need supplies. Possibly weapons to arm the workers of your Manor's
lands. You will need a tradesman."

Roquan nodded slowly. "Yes. I will indeed, won't I? However ... I
believe I know exactly who would be perfect for the job."

Uridon looked thoughtful. "Would you happen to be referring to that
Jollis fellow?"

Roquan's eyebrows rose. "Yes, indeed I am. My humble apologies. I do
not mean to suggest that your Clan is inadequate for the challenge of
..."

Uridon waved a hand dismissively. "I've been hearing rumors about that
man. His contacts put mine to shame even in my better days. I don't
have the foggiest notion how he does it, but at this point, Roquan, you
need the best, and that's what he is. The best."

Roquan nodded respectfully. "Thank you for your understanding."

"There is one last thing I wish to do for you, Roquan," Uridon said. He
went over to another part of the tent for a moment and returned with a
large pouch that rattled with the many coins inside it. He tossed it to
the Overlord.

Roquan caught it deftly. "What is this?"

"The money you paid me for the pearls I obtained for you. Or rather,
that Jollis obtained."

"Clan Leader, I cannot ..."

"Yes you can, and you will. Consider it part of the deal we just made.
Perhaps I cannot give back the other platinum we have made, but this
will at least ease my conscience towards you."

Roquan sighed. He looked down at the pouch and felt the weight of the
platinum within. He really needed these funds now. "I will accept it.
Grudgingly."

Uridon gave him a humorless grin. "I fear that is how we will have to
accept everything that is to come from this day forward for awhile."

"I sincerely hope not. I still wish for a smooth transition to another
sovereign."

"As so I. Good day to you, Overlord Roquan."

"Good day to you, Clan Leader Uridon."

The Overlord slipped out of the tent.

Uridon stared at the entrance to the tent for awhile after the Overlord
had departed. His eyes began to cloud over and he sank back into his
chair. With a steadier hand, he picked up the glass of brandy and took
another long sip, and waited until it had blazed down his gullet.

He stared morosely into the liquor. He had managed to salvage the
Clan's honor. He had managed to retain the Overlord's friendship. He
had committed himself to do his part for what was to follow. Overall,
he had done well for himself and his Clan.

/Except that my son is now dead,/ he thought.

The glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the ground. He dropped
his head into his hands and wept softly.



Vanlo's legs were aching badly, but he refused to seek assistance.
Amanda was his patient. She had been entrusted to him, and no one else.
Despite his lingering doubts about himself, he had his pride.

This was the thirty-sixth trip. From his apparatus, where the draught
was still only two-thirds completed, filling the long dropper, then to
the treatment room, where he carefully slipped the tip between Amanda's
lips and let the draught enter her mouth drop by drop.

The problem with treating an unconscious patient with a potion is
obvious. The patient needs to be conscious to be able to properly drink
it, unless it is one that can be vaporized and inhaled. Thus the
initial portion must be delivered in this manner, in very small
amounts, the patient either absorbing the potion through the tongue or
reflexively swallowing it.

The Healer was going to wait until the draught was done, until Amanda
had suddenly destabilized. Her heartbeat had fluttered dangerously, and
her breathing had grown shallow again. Vanlo could not remove the flask
from the apparatus, and he could not pause long enough to siphon enough
into another container.

His efforts, as excruciating as they were on his aged body, were paying
off.

By ten trips, her heart had settled and she was breathing more
normally.

By twenty, some of the paleness had begun to retreat.

By thirty, her pulse had grown stronger.

Now as he was about to apply the thirty-sixth does, Amanda uttered a
very soft moan.

Vanlo took a breath and let it go in a deep sigh of relief. He applied
the dose to her. She immediately swallowed it. Her nose and the corners
of her mouth twitched.

She was not entirely conscious yet. But now she was out of the worst of
it. Once the draught was done, Amanda could be roused enough to drink
it properly.

Vanlo staggered back into a chair, as weak with relief as he was. As
soon as he had recovered, he would see about notifying someone. He
glanced over at the leg. While he had been working on the potion, more
of the skin had knitted up. He frowned slightly. As he had not been
paying attention to it, it had not come together quite perfectly. There
would be a slight bit of scarring for awhile until he procured the
additional materials to smooth it out.

At this point, it did not matter. What mattered was the fact that
Amanda would live.



Roquan had his midday meal alone, at his request. He did not feel he
could face anyone else at the moment. At first he had little appetite
for it, until he received word on Amanda's improved condition. Then he
was able to eat his fill and go looking for his friends when he was
done.

He finally found both Rennis and Doran in the latter's quarters,
sipping brandy among the remains of their own meals.

Rennis immediately stood as Roquan entered the room. "Please, Roquan,
have a drink with us. We heard about Amanda's improvement."

Roquan nodded slowly and sat down at the table. Doran silently poured
out a glass and pushed it towards the Overlord. Doran cast an
apologetic look at Roquan.

"Yes?" Roquan said as he raised the glass to his lips.

"I just wanted to let you know, I have no intention of bringing up the
subject of Amanda's ... condition ... any longer."

"You mean that she has not had the Draught?"

Doran nodded silently.

"Very good of you, Doran," Roquan said coolly.

Doran caught the meaning of that. It meant "it would not have mattered
a whit if you had."

"If I may ask, what brought on this sudden magnanimity?"

"Gronnus informed us of who exactly was responsible for foiling the
assassin," Rennis commented mildly with a sidelong glance at Doran.

"Ah, did he?"

"Dead clever of the girl," Doran commented in a low voice. After a long
pause he added, "Not sure she would have had the presence of mind to do
it if she had had the Draught."

"I might dispute that. I do not place so much of the ingredient in it
as to render them complete sex addicts. Not like some Overlords."

"Speaking of which ... Rennis had told me that you wish to back out of
the deal with Freya."

Roquan paused to take a long sip before lowering his glass. "You need
not concern yourself with that."

Doran frowned. He looked at Rennis, who gave him a confused look. Both
men looked towards Roquan again.

"I have the situation under control. I will handle it."

"And how do you propose to do this?"

"I do not wish to reveal any more at this moment. Needless to say,
Doran, it will involve no duplicity on my part. There has been quite
enough of that from both sides."

"Then you don't intend to invoke your privilege as ..."

Roquan smiled at him. "And is that what you had come up with?" he asked
with some amusement.

Doran frowned. "Now, look here ... It's very hard to break a deal like
that without resorting to something unorthodox ..."

"I am not going to break the deal. Freya will back out of it herself."

Rennis blinked. "Wait ... you mean you're going to make her give her
back to you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Roquan looked at him. "What did I just say, Rennis?"

"Here we go again," Doran said with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I think I may be with you on that sentiment," said Rennis sourly.

Roquan simply took another sip of his brandy, and continued to gaze at
the other two in only partially veiled amusement.



Amanda was only half-awake. Her leg where the bolt had hit her itched
fiercely. Her head was fuzzy and she barely could make out anything
around her. Something was placed in her hands and brought to her lips.
Instinctively, she tipped it back and drank.

The next second she was scrunching up her face in revulsion and
sputtering much of the thick, brackish fluid out of her mouth. "/Ugh!/"

"Ahem. Well. At least that means your senses are coming back."

Amanda blinked rapidly and squinted to try and focus her eyes better.
Finally, Healer Vanlo swam into view, as well as the splattered mess
now over his robe and part of his beard.

She gasped in embarrassment. "Master Vanlo, I'm sorry! I just ... wait,
what happened, am I ...?"

"You are doing better, my dear," Vanlo said with a gentle smile. He
coaxed her into raising the flask to her lips again.

"But my leg, it ... " She looked down at it. Where the bolt had pierced
the meat of her calf muscle, now she could only see a faint
discoloration and some puckering of the skin. Suddenly the memory came
back to her in a rush. "Master Roquan! The assassin! Is he ...?"

Vanlo placed a hand on Amanda's shoulder and gave it a reassuring
squeeze. "Roquan is perfectly safe. Thanks to you, from what I
understand. Hmm, you're quite a busy girl it would appear. That would
be two of the Manor's denizens you have saved from some nasty fate,
yes?"

Amanda just blushed at this, but her lips tried to curl into a tiny
smile.

"This time, however, not without some sacrifice. Now." He lifted her
hands holding the flask again. "You lost a great deal of blood. You're
better now, but you need to finish this. I realize it tastes horrible,
but I did not have time to flavor it."

It was only then that Amanda realized she felt chilled, and now that
her vision was better she saw that her skin had lost a little color.
She remembered reading once that people with really bad anemia felt and
looked like this, so this made sense to her. She drank back the
concoction, her nose wrinkling and her stomach turning a bit, but she
forced herself to get most of it down. Afterward, her stomach rumbled
ominously for a moment and she had to wonder if it would stay down.

Vanlo smiled and took the flask from her, which still had about a
quarter of the contents left. "You may finish the rest in a little
while. Here, lie back, you need your rest, and I need a fresh robe."

"Sorry about that, Master Vanlo," Amanda said sheepishly as she lay
back.

Vanlo smiled gently at her. "Just part of the job, my dear."



The Wanderer found the mood at the merchant camp far too somber for his
liking. He understood the sentiment, even if he could not share it. A
dangerous instrument of the Emperor had been destroyed. They could not
see it as such. They may never completely see it that way. To them, a
member of the Clan had died horribly. They had the right to mourn his
loss.

Besides, Jollis had a reason to celebrate, and his upbeat mood would
not fit in well with the other merchants. The girl Amanda would live.

Jollis walked very slowly through the beautiful gardens of the Manor.
It reminded him of life rather than the death that had occurred, and
the one that had nearly occurred. Yet even the mood of the other slaves
was subdued, though nowhere near as sepulchral as the merchants. He was
sure that the idea of one of their own being so gravely injured was a
new experience for them.

Jollis corrected himself. Not so new. Sirinna had almost died
previously. Perhaps it was more the shock that something like this had
happened again to their idyllic little community. Despite being slaves,
all their needs were provided, and their Overlord protected them from
harm. To have something like this happen in their midst cast the first
doubt on the efficacy of the system.

Now he knew what he needed to do to complete the first part of his
grand task. But not right now. He would wait until the Conclave had
concluded. After what had happened, and the reaction he had witnessed
from the other Overlords, it was unlikely the vote would go any way
other than what Roquan wished. And what Jollis' master wished.

Today, there would be no Conclave. The Overlords were simply too
stunned to do anything. Yet Roquan was no fool. He would not give them
a chance to reconsider. He would convene a Full Conclave tomorrow, and
the matter will be settled.

And thus the arduous journey for them all would be set in motion.



By the time dusk arrived, Amanda was feeling much better. Her skin had
a much healthier cast to it, and she no longer felt cold. Most of all,
despite having to drink down the rest of that stomach-turning
concoction, she was ravenous.

Vanlo finished applying a salve to Amanda's calf. Now the itching had
abated as well, much to her relief. "This will also keep the skin a
little more supple," he told her. "It will prevent it from scarring any
further until it can be treated to restore the skin to its former
appearance."

Amanda just nodded. She tried not to think about the fact that it might
not be him doing it.

Vanlo wiped off his hands with a small towel and smiled at Amanda.
"Now, I am sure you are quite hungry."

"Yes, Master Vanlo, very."

"Then I will see to having some dinner brought to you. However, I fear
you will need to entertain a visitor first ..."

"A visitor? Who ..."

Vanlo had already stepped away from her and towards the reception area.
He leaned through the doorway and nodded.

Amanda's eyes widened in surprise and joy as she saw who was standing
there. Before she could react any further, Sirinna raced across the
treatment room and threw her arms around the girl, hugging her tightly
and crying softly onto her shoulder.

"Sirinna, it's okay ... I'm doing better ..." Amanda whispered, though
her own eyes were tearing as well.

"Oh gods ... if I had lost you ..." Sirinna's voice grew too choked to
continue, and she simply hugged Amanda fiercely.

"I know. I felt the same way when you ... when you almost ..." Then it
was Amanda's turn to go silent, and the two simply remained still for a
few moments, enjoying each other's presence, happy that there was still
a presence to enjoy.

Vanlo stood off to the side for a few awkward moments, though he was
smiling softly as well. "Well. Yes ... Amanda is doing well. I should
be able to release her in the morning. Her stay here for the night is
merely a precaution."

Sirinna replied without breaking off the embrace, as if she wanted to
hug Amanda forever. "Yes, Master Vanlo, thank you. /Thank you./"

Vanlo quite nearly blushed at the tone of affection in Sirinna's voice.

"Ahem. Well, yes, then ... I shall leave you for the time being, as I
am a bit fatigued. Sirinna, I trust you can procure some dinner for
her?"

"Yes, master, I'll do that at once. Thank you."

He smiled and blushed slightly once more before heading out of the
office and into cool air under the darkening skies.

Vanlo paused a moment and took a deep breath. He was weary to his very
bones. The excitement now over, he was ready to drop. If he lay down,
he likely would not wake up until morning. He wanted to check on his
patient one last time before retiring for the night, so he would have
to be content with a walk to loosen his stiffening muscles and joints.

Yet it could do nothing for the fatigue and fuzziness in his head.

It had not plagued him as much, not until the worst was over for
Amanda. He had managed to keep it at bay, but it had required enormous
concentration. Perhaps he was not quite as critical of himself as he
had been the other day, but realistically he knew that he was still not
up to par. If he had had another emergency like Amanda's tomorrow, he
was not at all sure he could handle it.

It was just as well that the assassin had died from his wounds. Vanlo
did not care for how callous that sounded, but it was the simple truth.
Had he two trauma cases to deal with, he was not at all sure either
would have pulled through.

What greatly disturbed him, however, was what that inventory would tell
him when he completed it. He was now sure that someone has been
stealing potion ingredients from him. Given enough time and patience,
assuming that his memory was not addled as well, he might even be able
to glean what kind of potion the thief was attempting to make.

And if that involved the Jonalla somehow, he was quite fearful of the
consequences.

However, there was a problem. The inventory was the easy part.
Researching the potion that the thief might have been interested in
producing would be trickier. It would take time. And he could not do
this if he were retired.

Vanlo strolled off into the night. This was something upon which he
would have to think very carefully.
<1st attachment end>


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