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<1st attachment, "Chapter25.txt" begin>

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

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: The Overlords' Gambit
Universe: Narlass Chronicles
Summary: Amanda is again pulled into events that grow beyond what she
ever imagined as the Overlords plot against the Emperor, for the
changes in Oceanus will bring changes for herself as well.

Part: 25 of 36
Keywords: MF, Mf, Ff, ff, Mdom, Fdom, toys, bd, rom, magic, oral,
rough, spank

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2007

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/Gambit/Chapter25.html



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

The shimmering Farview image of Master Kyllos hovered near the hearth,
one hand cupped under his chin. His face was drawn into a look of deep
thought. The silence was such that the somber tolling of deep-toned
bells and soft chanting could be heard in the background from where
Kyllos received the Farview.

Jollis felt a twinge of anxiety. He assumed that this meant his Master
had retreated to the Temple to meditate, hoping that some communion
with the divine might help guide him. He did not consider it a good
sign. It could mean that his Master had no greater wisdom to offer.

"Forgive my insolence, Master," Jollis finally said. He was reaching
the end of his patience, but there was no telling that from his voice
or eyes. He had at least that much discipline left. "But surely there
is some sense to be made of my decision. Unless you have other wisdom
to bestow upon me. I will gladly defer to your guidance instead."

"No."

Jollis hesitated. He was not sure to which part of his statement his
master had responded.

Kyllos lowered his hand. "There is no wisdom from my end, on the other
side of the world, that can match what your own senses can tell you."

Jollis gave a single respectful nod, but he was no less confused by
these answers.

"You see no other way?" Kyllos asked.

"Do you believe there should be another way, Master?"

"That is irrelevant, for the reason I have already stated. I cannot
come up with anything better than you can. But I wish to insure what
you have devised is the best that /you/ can come up with."

Jollis paused to collect his thoughts and draw in a deep breath. "I
would wish there were another way, Master. I can think of none."

Master Kyllos appeared to consider for a moment before stating flatly,
"We are not ready."

Jollis felt another twinge. "I understand, Master."

"But that doesn't matter, does it, Jollis? A decision had to be made,
and you have made it. It is up to us to see it through regardless of
the cost."

It was a test, Jollis was sure of that now. It was a test to see how
strong his convictions were. It was difficult. Kyllos was staring at
him hard. It was a struggle to insure that the thoughts that were
coming to him were things that he believed himself, and not simply
things that his Master "wanted" to hear.

Jollis raised his eyes to his Master and held them steady.

"I see no other way. Even now, Duric's army trains hard. He is short on
material but bountiful in men and morale. He has plans to approach the
Imperium by stealth. There are obstacles in his way, and I am unsure
exactly how he will overcome them, but Duric is a most resourceful
man."

"And the Imperial legions?"

"I can only assume Duric will time his attack such that Z'haas has
already launched the offensive against Colos. Besides giving him the
moral high ground -- that of revolting against a regime that is
conducting an illegal incursion into another nation -- it will mean the
Imperial Palace will be lightly defended."

"Are not Z'haas' armies much better equipped?"

"Yes. It matters not. Battles are won or lost on morale and
inspiration, not swords and arrows. And because the Emperor believes
that the information regarding an attack from the south to be false, he
is not devoting enough resources to defense. My cohorts that trade with
the Imperial Palace tell me that all his security appears geared
towards stopping a palace coup. He is convinced that the Caucus is the
threat."

Kyllos considered for another long moment. A bead of sweat trickled
down Jollis' forehead and into one eye. He blinked it away, maintaining
a steady gaze on his Master.

Jollis plunged ahead, his voice growing more urgent. "Master, the
original outcome we had hoped for is all but impossible now. There is
scant chance that Z'haas will discover Duric's plans in time to crush
his army before it can strike. The only way this can happen is if the
Emperor leaves behind at least two legions to cover the Imperium. It is
my understanding he will be leaving behind only one."

Kyllos nodded slightly at this, but still said nothing.

Jollis swallowed. He felt as though he was withering under his Master's
gaze. This was indeed the hardest test he had ever experienced. He had
to explain all of his thinking.

He wondered if he had to explain to his Master the original plan,
despite it having come from Kyllos himself. How the plan had been to
deeply polarize and divide the nation against itself, then guide it
towards a slow buildup to massive conflict. Then the war would begin
with two evenly balances sides, so that it would drag on and tie up all
their resources. Into the midst of all this would come the Inonni. Both
sides would be too mired in their hatred and loathing for each other to
recognize the new threat from abroad. Each would think it a new attack
from the other and fail to coordinate their forces against it.

Oceanus would fall in a quarter moon.

"Master, the original plan has failed," Jollis said, his voice catching
a bit on the last words. "It assumed that we could operate in complete
stealth. Instead, the Mage Guild can track our Portal openings. They
know it is from a foreign power. I fear my complicity in the stilling
of the Healer's Portal sense is close to being uncovered. I have no
time. /We/ have no time. We must take drastic action if we are to be
assured of victory."

Jollis did not pause, even as his Master straightened and folded his
hands behind his back, a gesture that meant he was close to making a
decision ... or was about to give a rebuke.

"The only way it will work is to force a bloody confrontation now. Two
evenly matched armies pitted against each other at the gates of the
Imperium. Even if Duric gains the upper hand, the failure of a swift
victory will mean Z'haas has time to barricade himself in the Palace
and wait for his armies to return. Once the blood flows it will not
stop. Their culture will dictate a constant flood until one side or the
other wins. It will be a mad scramble on both sides to field armies
against each other. It will be chaos. It will be a key distraction we
need, so that we may accomplish our goals with more limited resources.
It is the only way.

"But the battle /must/ happen. If the two sides turn away, if they
decide to fight another day, it will let both sides cool down and
reconsider the war. It will temporarily re-stabilize the realm. And the
risk of our discovery increases a hundred-fold."

Silence. Kyllos continued to regard Jollis. The Wanderer was confused.
Was his Master awaiting more explanation? Did he want more
justification? He would get none. There was no more to be had. Jollis
had explained everything he knew, everything he had thought about.

"Master?"

Kyllos stirred, taking a deep breath before he spoke in slow and somber
tones. "Your proposal carries great risk itself, Jollis. Are you
prepared for that?"

Jollis' heart thumped. "As I try to be always, Master."

"This all hinges on the two armies clashing in blood. Is there anything
you can do to insure that this will come to pass?"

"I can only hope to continue prodding them into a situation where both
sides feel they have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Once the
armies clash, they will be committed."

"And so will we," said Kyllos.

"Yes, Master. And so will we."

Another silence. For an eternity.

Kyllos nodded once. "So be it."

Jollis' eyebrows rose. He felt ... he realized he didn't know what to
feel.

"I trust your judgment, Jollis. I always have."

"I have made mistakes in the past, Master," Jollis said, lowering his
eyes.

"Yes. You have. Remember, Jollis: The appearance of no faults is the
mark of the trickster; it is the honest man that has his faults and
learns from them. The plan will continue. You will see it through."

"Even if the plan now bears little resemblance to what it did at its
inception?"

A small smile curled Kyllos' lips. "If it had, I would be far more
worried than I am now. There is such a thing as something being too
good to be true."

Jollis managed a small smile of his own. "Understood, Master. I trust
you will start preparations on your side?"

His smile widened a touch. "I already have."

Jollis looked surprised, until the full measure of what his Master had
said was realized. Then he was purely astonished. It meant that Kyllos
had already seen the merits of his thinking and had begun the process
on his end. This indeed had been a test as he had thought.

Now Jollis allowed himself to feel elated. He bowed to his Master.
"Your wisdom is far greater than mine, Master."

"You hold far more wisdom than you give yourself credit for, Jollis.
You will realize that some day. For now, continue as you have been. It
is your hand that guides all our destiny."

"I will do all I can to live up to that honor."

"I have no doubt of that at all. I will speak with you again soon. Good
fortune to you, Jollis."

His Master's image faded from sight.



Vanlo held himself erect, his hands folded placidly behind his back as
his eyes gazed down at the apparatus in the far corner of his chamber.
As his slightly glistening eyes beheld it, he drew in his breath and
let it go as a slow, deep sigh.

It was ready. It actually had been ready for the past two days. Each of
those two days he had stood over it at various times as he did now.
Each time he had resolved he would begin the new experiment. Each time
he had let it go.

Vanlo turned away from the apparatus, his head drooping as if in shame.
He was a coward. It was a horrible reality to face this late in life,
but the truth did not respect either time or the wisdom of the ages. In
this case, the truth simply was.

Vanlo stepped out of his chamber and started down the path to his
office. Above his head, the sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds as
they raced across the sky. He glanced up at them a moment as the
sunlight faded, then looked away when it came out strong again. There
was a storm coming, he was sure of that. If that was the case, many
would be holed up in their quarters by midday.

Which would mean an opportunity would be lost.

Vanlo reached for the door to the office and stopped. His hand dropped,
and he turned away from it.

He took another deep breath. He was not sure how he could call himself
a Healer anymore. Healers were supposed to be bold. They were supposed
to be fearless when it came to the well-being of others. He felt
neither.

It was bad enough when he had to carry the burden of what he had
discovered about the Draught. There had always been a convenient excuse
for not raising the point with Roquan. But he had no such excuse now.

By midday, a storm would roll in. The weather Mages had warned it would
be several days of rain and wet. Several days when Vanlo would not be
able to get what he needed.

Vanlo turned back to the office door. He opened it and leaned inside.
"Master Lanno, you will tend to the Healer Office until I return. I
have some urgent business to conduct."

He did not wait for a reply. He simply closed the door and headed off.

The sun had been up for awhile. He reasoned that by this time, Jollis
would be up and about his business. If he were lucky, the Tradesman
would be away from the Manor on some errand for Roquan. He knew that
Duric had asked for a rather sizable favor that needed the merchant's
tremendous resources. He did not know specifically what it was.

Vanlo cut through the gardens to the west side of the Manor. He
intended to approach the gate by that road rather than the one that ran
before Roquan's quarters. He wanted neither the Overlord nor the
merchant to see him and question him.

Yet as Vanlo turned a corner onto the west road, and his gaze followed
it to the gate, he suddenly came to a stop and stared.

He had caught a flicker of movement at the gate. Someone had just
passed through the gate and out of the Manor. Vanlo had not seen the
face, but he thought he had recognized the clothing.

Vanlo's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he attempted to quell
rising anger within him. He marched with a surprisingly spry step
towards the gate. The guardsman on duty nodded and gave a polite
greeting, but it was largely ignored.

The Healer headed down the main road. He had not come down here himself
for some time, so he was not sure himself where it was. But as he came
to where there was a break in the lush, jungle-like foliage, he heard a
rustling noise.

Vanlo looked down the path that forked off from the main road, the one
that led to Jollis' quarters. And there was Lanno, skulking down the
path, trying to be quiet and being anything but, his arms brushing
against branches and snapping twigs that overgrew onto the path.

Lanno heard a noise behind him. He stopped and quickly turned around,
bringing his arms up as if to defend himself. With his youth and
strength, he could have easily sent Vanlo to the ground. But he was
simply too astonished to react when one of Vanlo's hands flicked out,
grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, and yanked him off the path and
against a tree.

"Vanlo! What in the hells are you ...?!"

"Shut up," Vanlo hissed. "If there were any graves out here, you would
most assuredly have disturbed their residents' slumber. Get back to the
main road."

Lanno sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, fine, you found me out,
but ..."

"I am not joking, and I am not going to argue with you here. You will
move. /Now/."

"I am not an apprentice that you can ..."

"/Then stop acting like one/. I am not your Master, but I am the senior
Healer of this Manor, and as such, I have the authority to order you
about when I think you are doing something exceedingly stupid. If you
had paid the least bit of attention in your Healer Ethics class, you
would know this. Now ... /move!/"

Red-faced with fury, Lanno balled his hands into fists and remained
where he was for a moment like a recalcitrant child. Finally he let his
breath go as a sigh and snapped his gaze away from Vanlo. He marched
indignantly towards the main road.

Vanlo glanced down the path towards Jollis' quarters before quickly
following behind Lanno. The younger Healer rounded on him the moment
Vanlo stepped back onto the main road.

"I demand to know why you are treating me with such disrespect. You may
have some authority here, but ..."

"This is not the time or the place for this. Come."

Vanlo turned away from him and back towards the gate. Lanno fumed, his
lips drawing to a thin line, and his hands balling again. He stomped
down the road after Vanlo. By the time he caught up with the older
Healer, Vanlo was turning towards the guard.

"Good day to you, guardsman," said Vanlo.

"Very good day to you as well, Healer," replied the guard with a small
smile and nod of his head.

"May I inquire as to whether the Overlord's Tradesman Jollis has been
through the gate this morning as yet?"

"Merchant Jollis? No, I don't recall seeing him, unless he went through
before my shift. Though I was here since before dawn, mind you."

Vanlo smiled slightly and nodded once. "Thank you." He turned to the
somewhat nonplussed Lanno and said simply, "You are a supreme fool."

Lanno's mouth dropped open and heated words rose to his lips again.

Vanlo held up a finger and shook his head. "Not here." He gave Lanno a
hard look and turned away, heading back through the gate.

Lanno gave a frustrated growl and raced through the gate, past Vanlo,
and turned in front of him, causing Vanlo to come to an abrupt stop.

"I've had enough of this," Lanno declared.

"We shall discuss this back at the office," said Vanlo, starting to
turn away.

Lanno reached out and grabbed the older Healer by the arm and spun him
around. Vanlo nearly lost his balance. He looked at Lanno in
astonishment and some fear.

"We'll discuss it here!" Lanno exclaimed.

"You will keep your voice down. The Overlord's quarters are only ..."

"/To blazing hellfire with that!/ I don't care if he hears. Maybe he
should know how you've been treating me all this time."

Vanlo was unfazed. "I just stopped you from doing something very
stupid."

"And just what insight do you claim into what I was going to do? You
automatically assume I was up to something?"

"Then how am I to interpret the phrase 'you found me out' that you so
conveniently spoke when I caught you?"

Lanno clenched his teeth and uttered an exasperated noise. "Damn you,
Vanlo! Must you feel you have to control every action I make? If you
are oh-so-wise that you know what I am up to, then why are you not
thanking me for doing it?"

"Thank you? For nearly getting yourself into serious trouble? For
taking a stupid risk? For failing to take a simple precaution that ..."

"At least I bothered to do something, unlike some others I know."

Vanlo fell silent.

He stared at Lanno for a long moment. The words reverberated in Vanlo's
mind, cutting more deeply each time he replayed them in his head. He
turned his eyes away from Lanno for a moment, and said softly, "I
deserved that."

Lanno was too surprised by the sudden turnabout in Vanlo's demeanor to
respond at first.

Vanlo clasped his hands behind his back and turned towards the younger
Healer again. "In that case, Lanno, I commend you for the spirit behind
your actions, if they are what I am assuming they are."

"You mean getting the goods on Jollis?"

Vanlo tilted his head slightly.

Lanno smirked. "Sorry. Offworld expression I heard once."

Vanlo nodded. "If it means anything like 'acquiring corroborating
evidence,' then yes, that is what I had meant."

Lanno was confused. "Look, I just want to know, why were you so upset
just now? You condemn me one moment and commend me the next. What ..."

"It is because your work is still not up to snuff, Master Lanno!" Vanlo
declared in a suddenly loud voice.

Lanno looked aghast. "What??"

"It has been a full moon now and I am still seeing extremely shoddy
work. I do hope this is not what they are teaching at the Guild Hall
these days, or I may have to have a word with them."

Lanno was just seconds away from exploding when he caught movement out
of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around to see someone
standing off to the side, smiling pleasantly.

"Good day to you both."

"Good day to you, Merchant Jollis," Vanlo said smoothly.

Lanno just stared until Vanlo nudged him with an elbow. "Kindly do not
add disrespect to my growing list of grievances towards you, Master
Lanno."

Lanno's jaw clenched briefly. "Of course not," he said with a forced
smile to Vanlo. He turned back to Jollis and gave a formal bow of his
head. "Good day to you, Merchant Jollis."

"Forgive our loudness, Jollis," said Vanlo. "Sometimes it is necessary
when disciplining an inferior."

Lanno quietly seethed. He knew that Vanlo was just making a cover, but
he felt Vanlo was taking it a little too far. /And probably thoroughly
enjoying it on top of that,/ he thought bitterly.

"Not at all, good Healers," Jollis said. "I am simply passing through.
There is always much work to be done for the Overlord."

"Indeed, indeed."

Jollis' eyes appear to flick from one to the other of them for a moment
before he finally turned away.

As soon as Jollis was no longer watching, Vanlo gestured to Lanno
quietly and the two of them turned in the opposite direction towards
the Healer Office.

"All right, fine, I made a mistake," Lanno admitted.

"A rather large one, Master Lanno."

"But at least it didn't happen. At least you stopped me."

Vanlo turned to Lanno. "Only because you were very lucky I was there.
Perhaps this was a good day for me to decide to take action on this
matter after all."

Lanno raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's about time. What in the hells took
you so long?"

Vanlo's voice grew cool. "I said I had deserved it before, Master
Lanno, but I did not invite further language in that tone. Shall we
cease talking /at/ each other and perhaps start talking /to/ each other
instead?"

Lanno was often frustrated by the way Vanlo would cut off the argument
just as Lanno was building up a head of steam. Sometimes he felt that
the best way to deal with something like this was to push it as far as
it would go and let everything come out at once.

They continued walking towards the Healer Office. "All right, fine,"
Lanno said tersely. "I admit, I messed up. Or almost did. But what were
you planning to do?"

"Perhaps you should tell me what /you/ were going to do?"

"Well, I thought I would look around, see if there was anything
obvious. Like some correspondence or something like that. Anything that
might hint at his complicity."

"It is unlikely that he would have any sort of evidence like that after
all this time," Vanlo said patiently, looking straight ahead as they
walked. "And if he really is as accomplished a spy as I suspect, he
would not only have no evidence about, but he would know someone had
intruded on his quarters, no matter how careful you were about it."

"Wait a minute. Spy?"

Vanlo stopped and looked at him. "Yes, /spy/. There would be no other
reason for doing what he did, unless it was to perform some clandestine
operation involving a Portal."

Lanno frowned. "Okay, so your turn. What were you going for?"

"A few strands of hair or flakes of skin. Something with genetic
information on it."

Lanno's eyebrows rose. "You want to repeat the same experiment?"

"Yes."

"But I don't remember you setting up the apparatus for that again."

"I did so in my own quarters. I was trying to be discreet."

Lanno nodded slowly. He folded his arms. "But wait a minute ... That
sounds about as risky as me poking around for papers or journals. What
makes you think you'd do any better?"

Vanlo hesitated, then sighed. "I do not."

Lanno looked confused. "But isn't that rather risky for ...?"

He had stopped himself, but Vanlo smiled humorlessly and finished the
thought. "For someone of my advanced age, hmm? Perhaps that is the
reason I am the better candidate."

"I don't understand."

"I am old, Master Lanno. I am reaching the end of my usefulness. It
would be better to go out on one final blaze of glory as it were."

Lanno had trouble believing what he was hearing. This was Vanlo
talking? The man who always showed confidence at anything he did? No,
this wasn't right. He shook his head. "Vanlo, this isn't something you
should do alone. And before you say anything, it isn't something I
should do alone either. There, I admitted a made a mistake. Surprised?"

Vanlo considered for a moment, then answered, "Yes."

Lanno blinked, then laughed out loud.

Vanlo gave Lanno a weary look. "You are going to insist now that we
work together on this, aren't you?"

"Damn right I am."

"And I have little choice but to accept it, it would seem."

"Damn right you do."

Vanlo nodded once. "As you wish. It is probably high time that I
realize that I am no longer in charge of my destiny. But then again,
who is these days?"

Lanno was puzzled at this, but Vanlo offered no further explanation.
Instead, he began to lead them to his quarters rather than the Healer
Office. "If you are to help, you should understand what I am doing.
Come along, please."

A smile slowly broke across Lanno's face as he fell into step behind
the older Healer.



Amanda felt rather odd walking the grounds of the palace by herself.
She had assumed that Duric would escort her there. Instead, he had
simply instructed her where to go and left it at that.

As Amanda made her way through the green gardens of the courtyard, she
became increasingly aware of the attentions of the others. Of the many
people she saw, there were few she did not recognize. At first they
kept their distance, and Amanda thought perhaps there was a rule that
no one was allowed to touch a slave without explicit permission from
Duric himself.

This logic seemed to deteriorate as she reached the other side of the
gardens. People now strolled alongside her, occasionally fondling a
breast or grabbing a buttock, or offering a racy compliment on her
performance when she last serviced them. Each time she had to pause to
make sure nothing more was wanted of her. Each time she was sent on her
way, usually with a light slap to her rear.

She turned down a side passage through the outer wall of the courtyard,
and the land opened up into something more natural. A stone path wound
through grasses and clumps of late-blooming wildflower. At the end was
a low edifice whose entrance was lined with columns around which dark
green vines crept and twisted around the marble.

As she walked down the path, she drew the attention of two men that
were seated on one of several benches that lay among the grasses. She
recognized them as senior clerks that often took notes at meetings. She
did not recall them ever having a turn at her.

They decided to change that when Amanda grew close.

One stood and grasped her arm. She resisted the urge to pull away from
him and simply remained still. He gave her a lascivious smile and a
wink before pulling her over to his partner and making her sit in his
lap, facing forward. Hands reached around from behind her kneaded her
breasts. The man that was still standing reached down and played with
Amanda's pussy.

Amanda submitted without protest. It was not long before she felt a
cock expanding under her. Its owner's hands withdrew and he scrambled
to free it from its confines. The other unceremoniously lifted her up
and dropped him onto it. His manhood speared her so fast she gasped at
the sudden and deep intrusion.

The seated man bounced her roughly in his lap. Amanda moaned and let
them direct the action. She took little initiative herself. They seemed
to like this.

The first did not take long to cum. It was like dealing with Farro.
Then it was on to the next one, who preferred to have her drop to all
fours in the grass so he could pound her from behind. They were
inelegant enough about it that she had to manipulate her own muscles so
she could achieve a decent orgasm by the end.

Each one gave her a swat on the behind as she left them.

Something about that incident struck her as she approached the entrance
to the palace library. It was her own casual attitude towards it. "Oh,
I have to have sex with these men" had become as mundane as saying "Oh,
I have to run down to the store today" would have been back on Earth.

She glanced back at them briefly. They completely ignored her now.

She sighed. Sometimes she wondered what would it be like if she had
been somehow returned to Earth. She had a feeling she would never be
able to return to what she considered a "normal" life. Even without a
Draught, her thinking and feelings had already changed.

Amanda turned away from the men and stepped fully into the library. She
was immediately captivated by what she saw.

A high-domed ceiling rose in the center of the room, flanked by large
entrances to lower-ceilinged wings on either side. Massive structures
with beautifully carved surfaces mimicking the growth of imaginary
vines along their sides rose like monoliths in a circle within the
domed part of the building. Filling each one, not a space left open
save for the few whose contents had been extracted by the men and women
quietly milling about, were scrolls.

She felt something of a thrill go through her, as if she had managed to
go back in time and step into the Library of Alexandria. Even though
the decor and the architecture did not match the time period, just the
sheer number of scrolls reminded her of it. So tall were the structures
that each had several ladders that descended from the top to the floor,
things of thick rope skillfully wound and knotted about even pieces of
strong wood, all carved into the same reliefs as the cases themselves.

It was then that Amanda noticed that the massive scroll cases
themselves had rope wound around them as well. It was apparent now that
each case was comprised of several smaller pieces, all held together
with rope that appeared to work as well as glue or fasteners.

She took a few tentative steps forward and realized that nearly every
eye was upon her, everyone having come to standstill as they beheld
her. Few gazes were anywhere near as appreciative as some of the ones
she had received during her walk through the grounds. A few even looked
upset or disgusted.

Amanda swallowed, suddenly feeling very much out of place. She started
to take a half-step backward.

"Are you ... in need of some help?"

Amanda nearly jumped at the voice and whirled around. A silver-haired
elderly man stared back at her with a look of concern on his face.

"You're ... you're Lord Duric's slave, are you not?" the man said,
looking at Amanda intently. "Tanny, Tawny, something like that?"

"Tanyee," Amanda corrected. "Um, that is, that's the name of his other
slave, Master. His first one. I'm his second. Amanda."

Amanda blushed at how incoherent her words sounded to herself. Yet the
older man looked more surprised than anything else. After a moment, his
surprise turned to amusement. "I certainly never thought a man of my
age would hear a lovely young thing such as yourself call me by that
title. You honor me."

Amanda was a bit confused by this until she realized he was talking
about her calling him Master. To her it had become so routine that she
had not even thought about it. She felt herself relax a bit and gave
him a tiny smile.

"Are you, um, lost by any chance?" the man asked. "Do you need someone
to take you back to Lord Duric?"

"No, Master. I'm ... uh ..." Amanda looked around. A few patrons had
gone back to what they were doing. Others were still looking curiously
in her direction. She imagined the conversation was carrying quite a
way under the dome, as she could hear footsteps from behind even some
of the great scroll-cases on the other side of the room.

She had hoped that she could find what she needed on her own, but there
was no way she knew even where to begin to look. She had no idea as to
what filing system they used. She had to talk to Rallas.

She turned back to the older man. "I need to see Master Rallas."

"Oh? Is he expecting you?"

The question had been asked innocently enough. It sounded like a
genuine question and not a challenge. "No, probably not, but I was told
by Master Duric to see him."

The man nodded, some sort of understanding abruptly dawning on his
face. "Ah, I see, I see now, yes. You would be money ahead next time,
my dear, to use the servant's entrance around the side. That would have
led you straight to him."

Amanda realized that the purpose of her visit had been completely
misinterpreted, but she did not care. "Yes, I will remember that next
time, Master. Thank you. But how may I get to him from here?"

The man smiled and pointed towards the large entrance leading into the
wing on the right.

Amanda nodded and bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you, Master."

She quickly turned away. The man's eyes remained on her until she
disappeared past the yawning opening.

The silence of the central chamber had given way to the incessant sound
of quills scratching against parchment. Lining both sides of a corridor
that stretched the length of the wing were sets of desks and chairs,
facing away from her. At these desks, dozens of clerks transcribed
older, yellowed, crumbling parchments onto fresh ones. Just past the
desks were more scroll-cases, but their contents sat behind glass that
glowed faintly with magic.

She slowed her pace, fascinated. None of the clerks took notice of her,
each one too intent in his task. She watched one replicate the
swooshing swirls of a large opening letter of one document to an
incredible degree of faithfulness to the original.

As she advanced, her eyes were drawn to the end of the corridor, where
a very large desk sat upon a stone dais, facing her. And behind it,
sitting like an Emperor on a throne, was Rallas.

Rallas was also at work writing a parchment, but moving at a more
relaxed pace than the others, and there was no source document from
which he was copying. Before Amanda could speculate on what he was
doing, Rallas looked up, blinked in surprise, and narrowed his eyes.

Amanda's heart thumped as she stepped forward.

"And just what do you want?"

Rallas' leaden voice was like a great weight dropping. Amanda simply
froze in place.

Rallas drew in his breath and waved his quill like a sword. "Get out.
This is a place of learning and education. You have no business here."

"Master Duric sent me here, Master Rallas."

The quills of all the clerks in the wing stopped as one, and there was
utter silence.

Amanda did not dare not look behind her. She did not want to see
everyone looking at her.

Rallas spared her, though likely not for her sake. Rallas turned his
head and glowered, first to one side of Amanda, then the other. Seconds
later came the scratch-scratch of quills again.

He turned his icy gaze back to Amanda. "So is this why Lord Duric sent
you, to disrupt my work? To distract my clerks?"

"N-no, Master."

"Then, by the gods, why are you here?!"

"To get information, Master. On the Battle of Selemas Keep."

Rallas frowned and sighed. "If he wished such information, why does he
not come down here himself? Perhaps seeing our illustrious ruler
attempting to improve his mind will convince others to do the same!
Well, he cannot send you to do it. I will not allow any scrolls to
leave ... /why are you shaking your head 'no,' girl?!/"

Amanda swallowed and had to take a deep breath to steady herself. "The
information ... the scrolls are for me, Master. He wants me to read
them."

And again, the quills stopped as one.

Rallas bolted to his feet, causing Amanda to flinch. "Stop taking every
insignificant event in this room to be an excuse for laziness!" he
bellowed. The quills began again. He cast a piercing gaze at Amanda.
"This had better not be a joke, or you /will/ regret it."

Her heart raced. "No, Master, it's not a joke. He wishes me to read
about it. And ... you are to have me as you wish in return."

Rallas gave Amanda a long, hard, appraising look. His eyes flickered
over her body several times. He put down his quill, raised his hand,
and snapped his fingers, twirling a finger in a quick circle once.

Amanda caught the meaning and turned in place, presenting her back to
him. His eyes again roamed over her body, taking on a more lustful look
as he did.

"Bend over," he ordered.

Amanda did so. Her pussy peeked out between her thighs.

Rallas again looked her over for what seemed an eternity to Amanda. She
felt oddly violated despite him not laying a hand on her.

Rallas let his breath go as a long sigh, part desire and part
exasperation. He sat down again. "/WARLOS!!/"

Amanda gave a start at Rallas' bellow. Just as she straightened up, the
elderly man she had met in the other chamber came rushing in. By the
time he reached the desk, he was puffing. "Yes ... Master Archiver ...
what can I do ... for you?" he panted.

Rallas thrust a hand towards Amanda. "Take this creature and provide
her with scrolls on the Battle of Selemas Keep."

Warlos gave Rallas a confused look, then finally looked to his side and
uttered a small gasp, as if seeing Amanda for the first time. "Oh! This
is the slave that I ..."

"Yes, yes, Warlos, we all know what she is. Just get to it."

"Yes, of course ... uh ... did I hear you right, Rallas? Scrolls? To a
slave?"

Rallas leaned forward. "Yes, amazing world we live in now, is it not?"
he said icily.

Warlos glanced from Amanda to Rallas and back again, still somewhat
confused. He finally just shrugged and gently took Amanda's arm. "Come
along, then, and I will procure those scrolls for you."

"Thank you, Master."

Warlos gave a secretive little smile at this and chuckled softly.

"Amanda!" Rallas called out.

Both Amanda and Warlos stopped. Amanda turned to him.

"You will come to me tonight. After hours when the library is closed.
Just after it gets dark. You will be spending the night."

Amanda swallowed. "Yes, Master," she said in a quavering voice.

She turned away from him and let Warlos lead her back into the great
domed room.



Duric was actually grateful to have had the opportunity to send Amanda
away for a short while. He was becoming increasingly busy each day that
passed, giving him insufficient time to devote to both his slaves. He
did not want Tanyee to suffer for lack of attention.

Not that she would have complained. Ever since Roquan fixed that little
problem she had, Tanyee was as obedient and trouble-free as she had
been when she had first arrived. She would never voice any complaint or
be anything less than bubbly and happy.

He valued that. It was so much unlike Amanda. Amanda hid nothing. Yes,
she tried valiantly to suppress it, and she likely believed she
succeeded. But that was largely because Duric was letting her believe
she had succeeded.

With Tanyee at his side, Duric strolled into what had become his
planning room. Here, a large map had been spread out over the table,
showing the area surrounding the Imperial Palace. In one far corner was
the point where Duric's troops would assemble after their trip by
Portal.

He found Farro and one other adviser poring over something on the map.
Farro looked up and said something to the other. The man nodded and
headed out of the room via another exit.

"I have some good news for you, Farro," said Duric.

Farro, looking exasperated, heaved a sigh. "I certainly could use some
right now, my Lord."

Duric raised an eyebrow at this and glanced at the map. Several markers
had been placed near the southern and western approaches to the
Imperium. They did not appear to follow any rhyme or reason in their
placement.

Duric had intended to offer Tanyee to Farro for his pleasure to help
celebrate the small victory that he had to report, but decided against
it now. "Tanyee, sit over to the side for a moment and pleasure
yourself softly until I call for you."

"Yes, Master."

Duric watched Tanyee head over to a bench against one wall before
turning back to Farro. "I received a Farview from Roquan and his
Tradesman just a short while ago. We have ourselves a Mage."

Farro nodded. "Yes, that is something good, my Lord. Unfortunately, the
new issue we have is further afield."

"So we no longer have the other problems that have been plaguing us
right at the start?"

"Oh, no, we have those in abundance. We are still critically short on
weapons. The craftsmen and blacksmiths are working around the clock."
He paused a moment and lowered his voice. "We may have to resort to
trading some from the black market to make up the shortfall, my Lord."

"Then do it."

Farro blinked. "But ... that carries a great risk."

"That Z'haas will find out?

"Yes, indeed, as much as he is cracking down on black market trading!
The favorite routes they normally use are being watched day in and day
out. They're having to come up with more trickery to get by the
Imperial guards."

"Then wait until the last possible moment," Duric said. "Contact them,
but arrange for delivery on the eve of our march."

Farro pressed his lips tightly together and sat down at the table. He
picked up a quill and jotted down some notes on a parchment.

"What about men?" Duric asked.

"We continue to have that in great abundance. There is no lack of
willingness from the able-bodied citizenry. We've had to turn away
people because of obvious disabilities or old age."

"Old age? Watch that. Some of those old-timers may be veterans. They
could have valuable experience if they were in the army during those
nasty bandit raids along our trade routes some years ago."

Farro made another note and looked back up. "That will still not solve
our latest dilemma," he said, making a sweeping gesture with the quill
at the map.

Duric stepped forward and leaned over the map, peering at it studiously
as the soft sounds of Tanyee's pleasure filled the air. "Imperial
patrols?"

"Yes. Damn them to the hells."

Duric's eyes shifted to Farro suddenly. His adviser was not one to use
expletives often.

Farro threw down his quill and stood up, throwing his hands out in
front of him. "There's no rhyme or reason to them! No pattern at all.
It's different every few days."

Duric furrowed his brow and rubbed at his chin. "They're not just
rotating their patterns or time-shifting them to ..."

Farro was shaking his head. "We thought of those things. I even brought
in a mathematician to see if he could find a pattern. He was stumped as
well."

Duric nodded. "How critical is this to the operation?"

"Extremely! Bringing our troops to the vicinity via Portal is not
enough stealth to accomplish the job. We still must make the march from
here ..." He pointed to the far corner of the map. " ... to here." He
pointed to the Palace. "And this ..." He gestured to the markers. " ...
stands in the way."

Duric's eyes flicked over the map. "Is this all the patrols he has?"

"Yes, far as we can tell."

Duric pointed. "So these gaps here ... and here ... are real."

"Yes, very real. But unless we can predict where they will be and for
how long, we cannot make any use of them. That is why finding the
pattern is critical to postponing our discovery by the Emperor until we
were too close for his other legions to be recalled."

"Except there is no pattern."

Farro nodded. "The man I was just talking to before you arrived
believes they are literally picking a different route every few days by
hand. He says the only saving grace is that it was being dictated by
someone with little military background."

"That means either Z'haas himself or Q'yros."

"Z'haas did a stint as a general of the Imperial Guard before joining
the court when his father ascended the throne. He has the experience.
So that leaves Q'yros."

Duric folded his arms and sighed. "And from what I know of him, he
would be just the person to craft an idea like this."

"So we're stuck, my Lord," said Farro, turning away from Duric, his
eyes dropping back down to the map again. "Without knowing where they
will be, we cannot get past those patrols, and the element of surprise
will be lost."

There was a long silence between the two men. The only sounds to be
heard were the gentle moans of Tanyee, and the occasional faint, wet
noise. Duric's eyes dropped to the map, following the likely routes of
advance with his eyes, as if trying to find some way around the dilemma
without resorting to what he already knew was the only course of
action.

His gaze lifted to Farro. Farro's eyes were already on his.

"Well." Duric said, then fell silent again.

Farro waited another long moment before he spoke. He wanted to make
sure Duric would not say something else. When nothing was forthcoming,
he finally said, "It would be very dangerous, my Lord."

Duric said nothing. He wrapped his arms more tightly around himself.

"There is no guarantee that Q'yros wrote it down."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Farro!" Duric said sharply. "Q'yros can work
wonders, but he cannot impart knowledge directly into others' minds."

"I don't mean that. I mean he may conceive of the route one morning and
immediately dispatch it to the patrol commanders. There may be no place
where the plans are kept before ..."

"Well, I guess Janna will just have to find out for us, then."

Farro opened his mouth to say something else but stopped himself. He
could see that Duric was not going to change his mind. Farro had not
liked the plan of sending Janna in as a spy. It was far too risky. If
she made so much as one mistake, it would destroy all their plans. And
it would likely get her executed like it had the conspirators before
her.

He knew that Duric liked this idea even less. Yet he was going to go
through with it. There was nothing Farro could say that would convince
Duric otherwise.

"Farro, take your pleasure as you like with Tanyee," Duric said. "I
will Farview Janna at once and tell her of these developments."

Farro watched Duric leave before turning towards Tanyee. She looked up
with languid eyes as she writhed in self-administered pleasure, smiling
gently at him.

For once, Farro was not in the mood.
<1st attachment end>


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