Orgeeg walked out of the throne room. The guards positioned at either side of the large oak doors gave a crisp salute, thumping their breast plates with closed fists. He had been receiving such salutes wherever he went, a result of him being a hero. He saved the Queen by unraveling a traitor in the Royal Black Guard. The fact that he'd killed scores to implement such a heroic deed is ignored by those who are enamored by the tale. The whole of Binoria knew, the Queen made sure of that with a mass supplied newsletter of the events of that night. A newsletter that mentioned Masutap as the traitor but offered nothing more. Told nothing of her being Dahli's half sister. Or the fact that she'd inherited the Jojoh Meena.

The servants bustling along at the fork in the palace hallways parted for him, bowing slightly. A hushed silence spelt the end of chatter wherever he went. He drew eyes like nectar draws bees. The Rank One of the Royal Black Guard was a title he held once more. It had been renewed with more responsibilities piled onto the title. Ensuring he had command not only over the Royal Black Guard, but every serving Binorian unit except the Legions.

The battered beaten Legions. A husk of what they were. Loss could do that, he was well aware. Makes men husks, kills their belief with renewed awareness of their own mortality. But what befell the Legions was more than mortal men could comprehend. The Kolotian, Orgeeg stopped mid stride and balled his fingers into fists. Madness, a gift that poured out of him, the survivors, those lethal warriors, imperial gods of combat. The men who hold Binoria's purpose on their shoulders without stooping, Those men, are no more.

The survivors of the Ganidan Plain campaign against the Talisi, led by the late King Vayin Vigon, were all mad. They thrashed in their sleep and spoke of things that made little sense. They muttered to themselves and seizures raked their bodies at unexpected intervals. Orgeeg wondered why Dahli didn't put all her weight into looking for the Kolotian. To make him answer for his crimes, for the loss of half a million Binorian warriors.

Dahli... He raised a hand to his cheek, where her hand had lingered. He remembered the jolt that ran through him when her skin touched his own. Her full lips, parted, her grey eyes on him. Then the eyes had flashed red, for the briefest instance, and he had been made aware of the fact that he was being viewed by the Goddess Meena. He wondered what she saw, he wondered why his desire for Dahli heightened with every moment close to her. Was it love? Nothing else could explain it. He loved her, and the Goddess within her. For he knew beneath that red glare, Tabrimas, the realm of the valiant where he longed to die and go to, became something he could reach out and grasp.

But the Kolotian. He shivered at a memory of him walking two paces behind Dahli, there outside Binoria's gate. As the returning Legion screamed and shouted things that did not make sense. As they thrashed on the ground and murdered each other and themselves. They had to be restrained by ropes, wangi forced on them to make them insensate.

He continued walking, only to shake off the jitters that threatened to break his mask of calm. He was heading for the Royal Black Guard training ground to sweat of steam at the East wing of the Palace but decided against it. He headed West instead. He crossed the lower crest path, rounding the water fountain to emerge at a narrow hallway that led to a room at its climax. Orgeeg's path ended at a brass door. He knocked twice, the doe eyed maid he'd hired opened the door with a swift bow.

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Orgeeg entered the room and turned to face the large bed where two men lay dressed in linen. Gaping holes were where their eyes used to be, their feet and hands were missing, their ears punctured rendering every song a fairy tale. Two servants sat on stools on each flank of the bed, at the sight of Orgeeg they placed their hands on the arms of the two men. The former Rank 9 and 8 of the Royal Black Guard. Punished through mutilation for their inability to protect Desan, the once Prince of Binoria. A punishment they did not deserve for their failure in guarding the Prince from an outside attack had made them oblivious to an attack from within.

He'd taken them off the ring of beggars at the outer rings of Binoria. Cleaned them, clothed them, and given them whatever comfort he could manage afforded to them.

"Masutap attacked the Highlord of the Eastlocal." The servants at either side of the former Ranks pressed their fingers to the arms of the men. Translating in code what Orgeeg was saying. "She is going to the Westlocal next. Kemi knows, we have a trap set for her. I am going there with fifty of the Ranks to implement said plan. I don't think I will survive." The servants pressed their fingers in what looked like a dance upon the limbs of the Ranks. To the side of a large window, a wangi burner burned. The herb, known to expand the consciousness of a mind that is adept and to elicit madness in the minds of those who were lacking. The men who'd suffered the marks of those who fail in duty, used the fumes to numb their pain. And to allow their minds to travel, to a time when things were different.

"You must. Survive." Rank 9 said.

"You promised us vengeance." Rank 8 said.

Orgeeg nodded, realized they couldn't see him and said. "Yes. But she has the Jojoh Meena. If the plan fails I can't take her out on my own. She killed all of Shama's guards. There were scores of them. She did that alone, without a weapon. Those who reported the aftermath spoke of fist sized holes in the chests of the dead, as if a single punch can tear through flesh." He shook his head, the trembling assailed his hands once more. He stilled them by curling his fingers into fists.

"A fight can be won without getting punched." Rank 9 intoned.

"It is a game of minds," Rank 8 said. "Once the battle is won in the mind, the victory is guaranteed."

*"THERE IS A GODDESS IN PLAY!"* Orgeeg shouted. The servants halted their fingers upon the limbs, gasping, wide eyed. Staring at him. Orgeeg nodded for them to translate.

"A Goddess who sees you." Rank 9 said.

"Yes, she sees you through the eyes of the queen. And if Masutap shares the eyes of the Goddess, then maybe that will be a weakness." Rank 8 opined.

"Win the battle in your mind." Rank 9 added.

Orgeeg departed the chamber. The servant at the door bowing her head to him as he left.

They speak as if they would have done what they ask of me easily. As if the fact that their bodies are useless is the only reason that vengeance hasn't been served. He walked into a small garden beside the chamber. The sun warmed his skin from a gap in the garden ceiling. The warmth, it was eerie similar to Dahli's touch. She rules my mind, all that she is encompasses all that I am. He jerked his face away, as if willing the thought loose of his mind. I am not a Prince, not even a Highlord. I am not worthy of a Queen. Sorrow, funny how the weight of a thought could plunge one into the abyss. He walked out of the sunlight.

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