Mord's mocking laughter echoed through the chamber, odd counterpoint to the increasingly shrill screams beyond. "Ah, Jess. Father and son, sent spiraling to Hell together in the same night, and you their dark executioner. The horror in their eyes as you mastered them both. Well done! You are as savage and bloodthirsty a hellion as any man could want to warm his bed."

His nattering washed over Jess, having eyes only for the pair of men lurching to their feet even then, trembling before Jess as if she were an apparition come to claim their souls.

"I am a diplomat of Velheim!" roared a stoutly built man of indeterminate age, his dark eyes seething with outrage, a hollow mask for the stink of his fear, hands trembling against a rapier hilt he dared not draw. "Here for lawful congress and trade! You are trespassing, and have no right to be here!" He swallowed and lurched back, his features for some reason turning deathly pale. Jess almost wondered why, before noting the tip of the gore stained blade upon the trembling man's throat.

Her own.

How quickly she moved, when the fury took her.

Jess smiled.

“Please. I...”

“You are here on lawful business. Trade, yes? And have no interest in intercene politics that have left father and son both dead by my hands this night. Is that what you wish to say?”

Jess could feel her features light up in a deathly rictus, dark laughter bubbling from no throat save her own.

The man before her, though considerably larger, swallowed and fell back into his seat.

“Yes,” he whispered, licking dry lips. “That is exactly what I wish to say.”

Jess nodded. “Then perhaps you can explain the battered, half-naked girl chained beside you?”

Jess allowed herself to look, serpent tongue betraying her furious focus, her senses having caught the stink of fear and bloodstained flesh, a ragged waif looking up at Jess, her body's bruises hidden not at all by the sheer silks she wore, savage ministrations upon too lean a frame that nonetheless belonged to a heartstoppingly beautiful face.

Gazing out with haunted eyes, trembling in fear and pain, even now.

"You're an ass, Kettil. I'm glad I at least get to see you run through." Condemnation from a voice that had enraptured Jess, such a short time ago. A lifetime ago. Before she had become the most savage of hellions. Cornelius. Glaring at the vile toad before Jess.

Sir Kettil glared furiously at the agent. “Shut up, cur! You serve me, your master commanded it! Rest assured, you will pay for that, once we get back!”

Cornelius flashed the bleakest of smiles. "You're a damned fool, Kettil. Do you really think either of us is getting out of here alive, no matter how you plead and beg?" A contemptuous shake of his head, even as the agent deliberately freed his sword belt, allowing saber and dirk to fall to the floor, gazing at Jess and her companions calmly, completely unarmed.

Sir Kettil swallowed, grimacing desperately, turning his gaze to Jess. "It's not what you think." He blinked once at the terrified, clearly ravished girl beside him, shuddering even now. "I... we rescued her, rescued them all, paid their family's debts and now, to a better life! We merely..."

“Sampled the wares?” Rowan's voice, silky smooth and deadly, entering along with Neal, Lucas, and Eloquin himself.

But Jess had eyes only for Kettil, not even allowing herself to look at Cornelius. She had embraced the forest's wrath, blade and body covered in crimson fury.

There would be no going back. There could be no going back. No more than there could for the savaged girl gazing back at Jess, covered in bruises, whimpering like a tormented animal even now.

“Calenbry. Report!”

The voice of her commander, rocking her to stillness.

“We have found the players, sir. Duke, agent, and diplomat.”

Eloquin nodded. Dispassionate. Jess could sense that.

“And why is the duke presently dead?”

“He was more of a threat than the son. Let's not fool ourselves. We knew he had to die.”

“And he dared to remind Jess of how thoroughly she had put down his son, the beautiful dream of alliances and marriage forever sundered, when our dear Jessica snapped his pleading neck.” Mord smirked.

Jess swallowed and trembled, and did not deny it.

"She cut down a fool that could have spelled our doom, who we all knew could not be allowed to go free, a duke who had intended all our deaths!" Malek snapped, glaring at Mord, who smirked back.

“I don't deny that, Malek. I merely appreciate the delicious irony of all of this. Like the most grandiose of plays in Krona, no?”

Even Lucas chuckled at that. “By Justice it is, isn't it?” he frowned. “Jess... are you going to put down that blade? Jess!”

But it was too late. Far, far too late. Jess had seen the malice in the diplomat's gaze, even as he simpered and whispered dark secrets Jess was all too certain would tempt even Eloquin to hear.

She gave her enemy no chance, her blade lancing forward seemingly of its own accord, blasting through finest raiments and fur cloak as a hot knife would through butter, the man before her clenching up as her longsword tore through his intestines.

And she smiled when she twisted and pulled, watching her foe scream and writhe, blood shooting from his nostrils as his eyes rolled back in a spasm of unspeakable agony, even as Eloquin roared.

“Calenbry! Sheathe your blade, now!”

“Yes, sir.” A trembling breath. Jess desperately trying to sheathe shaking sword that hungered for flesh to sunder even now, and failing.

Mord. Clenching her hands, devilishly smiling eyes gazing into her own.

He kissed her cheek, even as he wiped off her blade, sheathing it, handing it to Malek. “You play a dangerous game, Calenbry. I hunger to see what you do next.”

“Step back here, now!”

Jess paid the words no heed, glaring the man who had gloried in breaking so many girls, smuggling in men to butcher her friends, happy to see him writhe and die at her feet.

“Jess, move!”

Malek's voice. Strangely urgent, grabbing her shoulders, propelling her backward.

Eloquin's eyes. Fierce and cold. Chilling her to the quick.

Jess quailed, trying to hold onto her anger, freezing before this man's wrath.

A man she admired with all her heart, hungered for every bit as fiercely as Rowan, a father figure far more savage than her own, a man she ached to please beyond all others.

Jess lowered her head and shuddered.

Ice blue eyes that would not let her go.

Endless heartbeats passed.

At last, he spoke.

“You will tell me now why you struck him down, the battle over, our foes clearly within our power.”

So many ways for a clever player to spin the truth to a web that suited their purposes, til the deception itself became the living truth, the spinner embracing the tale like no other.

“I wanted him dead.” No artifice would she give this man, who meant so much to her.

Eloquin's gaze hardened even further.

Jess trembled, feeling hot tears struggle down her cheeks. Battle frenzy passing, she was suddenly so exhausted, she feared she would drop.

“Sir, she doesn't look well...”

“Silence, Malek!” He turned to Jess once more. His voice measured. Controlled.

“We killed the pawns, well and good. But to butcher the pieces that could reveal the strategies and gambits of our enemies is beyond foolish. It is unforgivably stupid.”

Jess squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the disappointment she sensed.

“Do not fail me like that again, Calenbry.”

Jess swallowed. “I am sorry, sir.”

A cold pause. “Too many pieces to this puzzle still need to be claimed. Proof of Putrice's treachery, girls like the one trembling even now before us, evidence we can use to shame Velheim, and wring compromises from them.”

Jess flinched in surprise as a powerful voice she knew intimately washed over them in words formal and direct, free of fear or panic.

"Whatever questions you have, I can answer, sir. Whatever pieces to the puzzle you have yet to fill, I surely can, and of the twenty-five girls sired of free men that Arbingion and Kettil squeezed with the spectre of debt and imprisonment to sell to Velheim brothels and their own twisted pleasures, I can gain you them as well, and the papers of debt used to bind them. You could give these daughters back to their families, or aid them in whatever way you see fit."

Eloquin turned to Cornelius, dark hawklike features proud and fearless, and a part of Jess quailed, her exhausted heart drained of fury, aching for this man she had let consume her so utterly, a final gift to an opponent she realized she didn't have the heart to kill, after all.

When he had said he would claim her as his own... there had been no malice in his awe-struck gaze.

He had been smitten.

And perhaps, wrapped so tightly in his and Rowan's embrace, her heart swelling with fiercest desire and adoration for them both, she had been smitten as well.

Her eyes sought Rowan's, her friend gazing back at her with such sympathy that Jess couldn't bear it.

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She shuddered and turned away, ready to flee the room, no matter that the corridors were red with the blood she had spilled.

“Agent Cornelius.” Eloquin flashed the bleakest of smiles. “Yes, indeed. I suspect there are a great many questions you will find yourself more than willing to answer.

Cornelius. Jess couldn't help but feel a flash of fiercest admiration, their captive daring to meet Eloquin's gaze as a man, not a broken supplicant, no matter the pain they all knew was coming.

“There is no need for that,” he said quietly. “I am more than happy to share with you all the cards in your enemy's hand. And before you doubt me outright, doubt proving your own undoing, you could ask me why I am so willing to betray my cause.”

Eloquin turned to Neal, refusing even to be sucked into the game.

Neal sighed, gazing at Cornelius, who did not resist when restraints were put on his wrists, his cloak removed, padded down for knives and darker weapons, of which Cornelius had plenty.

Eyes bold and certain, he resisted not at all.

“There was a coup in the House of diplomats recently. My master, more honorable than most, and wanting only stability between our nations, was replaced with a hotheaded fool who actually thinks we can win a war with your nation, not realizing the allies he is sure would have our back would profit most handsomely simply by waiting for our nation to fall and picking up the pieces, pushing your forces back only when Velheim was their territory.”

Malek chortled softly. "So your present spymaster is a fool. Your nation is almost entirely protected by the Dragonpass range. So long as you guard it and guard it well, only the sliver of territory before that range can we grab without dearest cost.

"As fiercely as we train to take you out, we all know in our savage little hearts that the Dragonpass serves as a perfect stalemate. The nation that loses patience and tries to cross first is the one most likely to lose the war. You have far more to fear from your western neighbors than us, for all that their forces, individually, are no match for Erovering's."

Cornelius grimaced, and dipped his head. "There are reasons for this blind stupidity, and no reason to leave you in the dark." He swallowed and spoke, his gaze making it clear that he knew exactly who Eloquin was. "Let's just say, our present spymaster's son was one of the players who had sought your trial, a handful of years ago."

Eloquin's lip curled into a too knowing smile. “Velfrieg.”

Cornelius nodded. "Precisely. He will do anything to see Erovering fall, but even more than that, to see you dead, or at least your plans fouled at every turn, and he is more than happy to break every treaty and understanding our nations and the players within have ever reached, using all his agents as expendable pawns to accomplish just that."

Eloquin nodded. “Whereas Lord Killen, for all that he is my opponent, has never broken his word, or broken the unwritten accords.”

Cornelius's eyes widened, and he swallowed. "You understand, then. For all that our agents will strike at your moles within Velheim, just as your Squires strike down our own Kettils..." He smirked, looking into the agonized rictus that would be the last expression Sir Kettil would ever make. "No Velheim agent under Lord Killen has ever struck at your heart."

Eloquin's eyes instantly hardened, the room going deathly still.

“State what you mean, Cornelius, if you would live to see the sun rise once more.”

He paled, shuddered, speaking softly, for all that his voice trembled. "I would have your word... regarding my life and my freedom. And I, in turn, give my word to say nothing in turn about what is obvious now to so many players... and with the duke dead and me happy to share whatever story of his downfall you like, your leaked secret will only wilt into disinformation with me owing you that favor."

Eloquin's eyes flashed. “So you know.”

Cornelius did not deny it, his gaze locking on to Jess, a desperation that speared her heart. “Of course I know. All of us know about the Druid you keep. And the secret is not safe, not by far. The suspicion is out there. And you know that I know, so let us not pretend my being cagey would have done anything but seal my death.”

He licked his lips, taking as brave a breath as he could. "I knew her secret when I lay with her. I knew it when she trembled against me, wrapped so tenderly in my arms. I knew it when I was hit by the wild idea of taking both your Squires and racing for the southlands, where we really could start over, a man and his two wives and tall tales of our past selves to wile away the evening hours by firelight, with our children gazing raptly on."

Jess shuddered and looked away. She couldn't handle that. Not that. She trembled, bitter tears leaking freely from her shaking sobs, Malek holding her close.

A soft purr. “It is all right, mistress. Cornelius has your favor, and he is no fool. If Eloquin was dead certain that this agent must be put down, Neal would have already broken half his fingers. He is uncertain.”

Jess gazed into her familiar's sapphire orbs.

“There is a chance.”

Jess smiled gratefully at her familiar. "Thank you, beloved one," she whispered, stroking the purring cat that only she could see.

"By the gods, you mean that, don't you." Rowan, helmet removed, gazed at Cornelius with a look Jess could hardly define.

Her eyes had grown soft, and Neal frowned, his concern obvious.

“Don't let him divide us, sister,” he said.

And it was Cornelius who shook his head. “No. I would not do that to you. I meant what I said.” He flashed a bleak smile. “I recognized them in an instant. All of us know your female players, dear General Eloquin. And the way they looked at me... not as girls with a mark to kill, but as women who knew madness lay ahead, determined to savor a night, however brief, before thrown into the cauldron of battle, no matter that I might be among those they would fight."

Cornelius sighed, lost in fondest reverie. "In that moment of truce, we were free. In that moment of peace, we could embrace the sweet dream of fantasies all of us knew were only that. But for that moment, that night, that hour, they were true."

Rowan chuckled softly. “And you are a poet as well. You sound like one of grandfather's bards, back home.”

Cornelius flashed a smile. "And wouldn't Rubix love to know what his granddaughter was doing in the north, blending in so well with your countrymen, your mother's blood so strong within you."

Rowan paled. “You know too much, sir.”

Cornelius's solemn gaze did not leave her own. "I know that I could love you, if I had the chance to. If you wanted me to."

Rowan swallowed and looked away.

Eloquin's glare did not soften. "So my Squires had thought to seduce you, and it appears that you have turned the tables, winning their hearts, as you strive to do even now. And if you think that will stop them from embracing fiercest duty, you are wrong. More wrong than you could possibly imagine."

Cornelius sighed. "Of course I know exactly how ruthless you are, General Eloquin, and how ruthless you taught your Squires to be. I have no doubt, absolutely no doubt that even the girl trembling as she gazes at this final scene playing out, gently braced in the arms of the boy who is so obviously her lover, I know that even she would run me through, did you but say the word."

He flashed the most bitter of smiles, even as Neal glared, Erica shivering in his arms.

"And I know that, for all of that, you are a man of honor, ruthless as the struggles between our nations forged you to be. Those few who earn the grace of your word do not regret it. I knew all of this, General Eloquin, even as I embraced the game, finding myself falling in love with the idea of these two beautiful women of such wit, charm, and sensuality being so much more than simple opponents across the board."

Jess swallowed as Cornelius flashed the saddest of smiles. "And so I waited for their message, thinking either they knew I knew, and we played the sweetest of games; lust, not murder the contest we would embrace, or perhaps they sought to pass on a message, which they did. What I had half expected to hear... as much as it shocked me to hear it.” He chuckled ruefully. “For I had fallen into the story as deeply as they. It was an abrupt, chill awakening.”

Cornelius's suddenly potent gaze locked upon Eloquin's own. Jess swallowed, seeing not an enemy, but a fierce prince, bargaining for his life against death himself, and how a part of her ached to have him sweep her away, even now.

“I did not tell the duke and his rabble that the queen was under your command once more when I fled back to this keep, in the heart of ancient woodlands, where your Druid's power is no doubt strongest.”

He flashed the saddest of smiles. “I feared our illusionist might get the best of you, so her wine I drugged, and she is lost in utter stupor even now, the former duke raging that she had picked a poor time to get drunk as a lord, so well do I know my craft.” His gaze hardened. “And yes, I could have poisoned the two sweet roses who had loved me so passionately at any time. You note they are by your side, healthy and hale, thank all the gods, for I remember their taste even now. And it haunts me, the way they stare at me covered in steel and death, never to gaze at me with a woman's desire ever again, I fear.”

Jess buried her face in Malek's arms, trembling.

"By the gods, he plays this game well." Malek's rueful, soothing words.

Eloquin scowled, looking about him, forced to concede the tiniest of nods. "The traps were ill-suited to one with Jessica's gifts. A girl you claim to adore." He smirked coldly at that. "You are a skilled agent, Cornelius, and your reasons why I should not cut your throat as first light hits, a quick death the only well-earned mercy I dare give you... are intriguing.

"Let's just say I consider your plea. You still need to give me coin worth your life, and my Squire's secrets put in peril."

Cornelius bowed his head. "I swear upon my soul and the souls of my future children, of which I will have none, should you cut me down, that nothing but disdain and disinformation will pass my lips, when and if any lord or agent ask about rumors of ancient magics to be found in the forests and schools of Erovering's progeny.

"I, sir, am no threat to you or yours, and I freely admit to being a horribly flawed agent, even in Lord Killen's books. For useful as I may be, I could never butcher a girl I had held in passion's grip."

Rowan nodded solemnly. "It breaks the vows of the goddess, to spill blood upon the loam from which we all sprung. You adhere to the old ways still."

Cornelius gazed coolly at Rowan. “If it were just you and me, Rowana of the Silver Rose, would you cut me down after sharing blossoms by the moonlight with me? Even if I were to turn about and leave these chambers this very moment?”

Rowan flushed and looked away. “You know I can't.”

Cornelius nodded. “Then you would make a fine wife. I could sleep soundly in your arms, for there is no treasure more precious than trust.”

Rowan trembled at those words. "You can't marry me. I fell from grace, long ago."

“Your uncle is dead.”

The room grew deathly still.

Rowan swallowed, speechless, saying not a word.

“I am sorry,” Cornelius whispered. “I would tell you in other circumstances but... I might not be alive to do so.”

Eloquin's gaze tightened. “You will stop now, Cornelius. I see how deadly a tool your silver tongue truly is.” He turned his gaze to his Squires. “Neal. Malek. Please take Jess and Rowan and half our men, and make sure the hallways are clear of all hostiles.”

Neal swallowed and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Rowan trembled. “Please... don't kill him.”

The room grew still once more, every Squire's gaze locked upon Rowan, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

Quickly Cornelius spoke into the silence. "So you know I will not betray secrets I already keep close, your Squires harmed not at all, though I knew who they were!" Intent gaze, near panicked as he spoke on. "Velfrieg must fall, so that Lord Killen can come out of hiding and take his rightful place, and a dozen political arrows you do not even see are quivered once more!"

“Explain.”

Cornelius took a deep ragged breath, grasping at a the straw that might be his salvation.

"Velfrieg plans a strike against the Royal Clan itself! Lady Putrice is a fool. All she is doing, seeking to sow alliances between Velheim and Erovering, is but a smokescreen that spymaster Velfrieg will use for just so long as it suits him, Arbingion as well."

Cornelius glared at the glassy-eyed corpse by Eloquin's feet. "The duke thought himself a contender. It was why over a hundred troops were here, most now dead, and if I had the time, I would have drugged their food before you arrived. Because if the king dies, I know damned well that your Lords Council would have demanded war and the heads of all our nobles. For opening the central continent to campaigns of conquest is a goal half your nobility holds close to their heart, no matter how foolish charging the Dragonpass Range would be. Erovering possesses the finest steel and deadliest troops to be found anywhere, and your Council is eager to put them to the field. It doesn't even matter if your nation could wipe Velheim off the map or not! Because once we are weakened, our neighbors would be all too happy to finish us off."

Cornelius spat upon the duke, glaring at the body staring at horrors only it could see. “And the serpent dead at your feet would have been all too happy for any pretext to cut us all down, even as he would use Velheim resources to solidify his own bid for the throne!”

Jess felt a cold bolt of fear, Eloquin's hard features tightening with dread.

“When.”

Cornelius grimaced. "I was not that closely in the loop. Soon. I know that. And if you were to open the concealed panel on that dresser over there, you will find all the plans Arbingion dared to transcribe that I have no doubt your Squires are even now looking for. With those I can help you, intimately knowing as I do the codes he used, well able to read between the lines of his notes and plans.”

Eloquin flashed a smile as cold as death.

“Congratulations, Cornelius. You've just earned the right to see the sunrise.”