Baj slipped into the outpost, looking strained from his quest.

Garacel greeted him while Sahshir polished his armor. Looking up, he saw the man bow before Garacel. Around him, soldiers looked up in resignation. The war had been going badly; lately, another attempt at a raid had been foiled. Little by little, the water was being filled in.Not that Garacel had ever ceased to be confident.

"What news?" asked Garacel.

"King Nagos has blockaded the port," said Baj. "Even now, they are skirmishing. As a result, Kaba has been unable to bring in or send out more ships or supplies."

"I see," said Garacel. "Unfortunately, the news elsewhere is not as good."

"Our raids have become less successful. However, it is only a matter of time before Kaba finds our fortifications," mused Sahshir. "Or worse still, our secret passages.

"Then let him," said Aresif, who had recently returned to Sahshir's side.

"Let him?" asked Garacel, looking at the old man.

"Lead him directly to our defenses. Give him something to attack," said Aresif with a shrug. "Let us die gloriously in battle rather than huddled like slaves."

"As fine a plan as any. Laevian's spells shall not last forever," mused Garacel, though he did not seem keen on doing it.

"Kaba must be under pressure as well, surely," said Sahshir, moving on to another piece.

"By now, he has probably already requested aid from the other Sornian Fleets." mused Garacel. "Either they'll attack something Nagos has to defend, or they'll engage him. In the latter's case, his advantage relies on mobility, and now they know where he'll be."

"In the case of the former, they will head to Chaminus," guessed Sahshir. "Sen Kaba hates Nagos. And I doubt any other Sornian nobles are more fond of him."

"The hatred is entirely mutual, I assure you." said Garacel, "Chaminus was beginning to establish a new empire long ago. That was before the people who are now known as Sornians wrecked it.

"I believe it was under Anoa VII, if I'm not mistaken. They seized all kinds of territory. The grudge between the two peoples has been passed down through generations. Though Nagos hides his hatred behind a smile." How would he know? He'd never met the man.

Then again, Garacel was a god.

"They'll have to engage the Dinis fleet to do that," said Baj. "They may have scaled back for now. But Chaminus stands between Sorn and an avenue to strike Dinis directly. They won't give it up without a fight if they aren't fools."

"It may be a less daunting task than fighting Nagos at this stage," said Sahshir. He remembered the letters he'd received over the past few weeks. "Marius told me he's received word that negotiations for a truce are being arranged as we speak."

"What of ammunition?" asked Aresif. "Nagos is sure to run low sooner or later."

"The details are now irrelevant," said Sahshir. "Since we have no power to influence the battle at sea, our concern must be on what we can affect. And how Nagos' blockade has changed our circumstances."

"The point that you all agree on is that Nagos' blockade is temporary," said Garacel. "It may cause severe damage, but it will not win us this war.

"Fortunately, Kaba may not know that."

"He assumes his blockade will be long-term. At the moment, he has ample supplies. But if things are dragged out, food will run short."

"How do you know this?" asked Sahshir.

"I hold dominion over all hatred or most of it," said Garacel. "And Kaba holds all things that breathe in contempt, save perhaps his brother. So it is only natural that his thoughts would be laid bare to me."

"And why are we losing then?" asked Sahshir.

"If we had crushed Kaba immediately, he'd have gotten back to Sorn with a bloody nose. Nothing would have changed," said Garacel. "By forcing him into a prolonged campaign, I have forced Sorn to expend much treasure. All on a now worthless island.

"Worthless in their mind, at any rate."

"Get to the point," said Sahshir.

"Sorn has wasted immense amounts of treasure on what was supposed to be an easy land grab," said Garacel. "And Nagos, at my suggestion, has asked Calisha to intercede. With Dinis and Sorn battered, neither one will be in a hurry to fight Calisha.

"Baltoth will be able to arrange a favorable truce that benefits him. He will arrange for McShore to become a neutral buffer zone. As a result, my people will be able to rule themselves, and that is to my benefit."

"And if they do not play along?" asked Sahshir.

"Then I expect there will be a great, bloody war. One that will raise hatred to an unprecedented level" said Garacel. "Harlenor will then become involved to prevent Sorn from losing. That would naturally draw Calisha in on the side of Dinis, given negotiations. So Calisha will be weakened, as will Dinis and Sorn, and that benefits me. And I may raise the powers of my subjects on this and other islands to fight the tyrants seeking to destroy them.

"The window of time where events did not play into my hands disappeared about forty years ago, honestly."

Sahshir looked at Garacel hard for a moment. He wondered, between him and Seth Kaba, which of the two was more contemptible. The answer would probably be Kaba, but at the same time, it was hardly relevant.

The pain had been getting worse. Finally, his mind turned to the plan he'd devised, and he considered the chances of success. If things went on like this, Garacel might win, but if he did, he'd exterminate the populace of slaveholders.

"This is futile," said Sahshir, beginning to don his armor.

"And why is that?" asked Garacel.

"Aresif," said Sahshir, "take command of the Silent Guard. I must go alone for what comes next. March out and gaze upon the armies of Kaba from hiding. And send word to Marius that a chance for victory shall come soon."

"I don't understand," said Aresif.

"All things are as Baltoth wills them," said Sahshir. "If victory is to be ours, he shall grant it. If defeat serves better his purposes, then we shall be defeated.

"Why speak of attack and defense when triumph and tragedy are in both his hands?"

"Your devotion does you credit," said Garacel, voice sarcastic. "Very well, we shall wait for Baltoth to make his choice. Now, what will we do while we wait for Baltoth?

"Surely, he will not mind if we try our best to fix our own problems. If only to save him the work."

Sahshir finished putting on his armor and donned his mask. Then he looked to Garacel. "Do not mock faith, Garacel. By it alone have we survived."

"The question remains," replied Garacel.

"It is written: The cornered serpent is the deadliest prey," said Sahshir. "We shall make ourselves the serpent."

And then he turned and walked away.

"Where are you going?" asked Baj.

"To confront my enemy," said Sahshir, halting and glancing back. "If I'm going to die, I'd rather do it standing."

"Shouldn't you-" began Garacel.

"Choke on your speeches, Garacel," replied Sahshir as he marched out.

Sahshir would be dead if anything went wrong, as would likely many others. But death was inevitable; what did it matter if it came a year early? The half-formed plan he'd had was coming to fruition.

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When he emerged into the darkness, he saw the Moon Spirit had shown its full face tonight, a good omen. The stars sparkled brightly between the trees. Though the land howled with the defilement of Sornian engineers. Sahshir could sense power growing within.

It was gathered fully but... waiting.

Waiting for what?

Sahshir wasn't exactly sure what he was doing here.

His plan, if it was indeed that, had been pieced together from a general series of observations. Kaba was looking for an excuse to destroy Garacel easily; Kaba had been advised to talk with Sahshir. That meant he'd be willing to negotiate.

And when he did, Sahshir could kill him. Once he was dead, the prime mover behind this expedition would be gone. A settlement might be reached between Marius and Romilis. The idea of killing a man in parley was distressing to Sahshir. From a certain perspective, Kaba didn't have the right of parley applying to him. One who had no honor could scarcely expect to be treated with honor. But surely, such thinking would lead to a decay in moral spirit if applied too generously.

When did it stop?

When everyone was dead, probably.

Then again, if Sahshir was lucky, Kaba would violate parley to show dominance. The man seemed to enjoy flaunting rules to feel powerful, so it wasn't inconceivable. If he committed the first violation, Sahshir could kill him without guilt.

But what if Kaba behaved with honor? Should Sahshir seek to negotiate with him? Kaba had easily violated his agreement with Garacel, but that had been done with slaves. He had some legal standing in it, and from his perspective, Garacel was of no threat. Would Kaba be so free to violate an agreement with a King, let alone a King of Calisha?

Sahshir doubted he would be so stupid.

There is the camp. The city rose distantly behind it, still standing. Good.

Sahshir came to the edge of the trees and gazed at the filled-in swamp and hewn trees. There were numerous torches lit at the perimeter. And strange machines with a heavy guards. Then there was the camp beyond, where the sounds of merriment were underway.

Why celebrate?

Then Sahshir looked at the fields of sand. Among them were the bodies of many slaves. Their corpses had been used as part of the fill. Looking down at them, he remembered all those brave men who had died against the Sornian lines. And all those drafted into the task.

His gaze went to several heads on pikes, having been burned to almost skulls.

Was he to negotiate with monsters such as these? Even if he could trust them to abide by his terms, the concept of speaking to one horrified him. Baltoth practices crucifixions and other horrific torments. But only to those who committed grave crimes. And it was a matter of historical record that the penalties had become less harsh.

Sahshir saw three ways this could go down if he could meet with Kaba.

He could kill Kaba at once and violate parley, albeit to one with no right to its protection. He could be betrayed and try to kill Kaba afterward.

Or he could make a deal in good faith.

Sahshir almost desired to rush forward with a battle cry and kill as many as possible. Certainly, such an end would be glorious, but something held him back. Looking down at the Blade of Order, he saw his masked reflection. Within it, he found his resolve.

Sahshir would allow Kaba to end this peacefully, but not for him. Rather he would offer him an out for the sake of those who would die if Garacel gained a total victory. Romilis and those who served him had warped minds. But they were not wicked as Kaba was, merely a product of the society they dwelled in.

Sheathing his sword, he walked forward with his hands raised. As he entered the torchlight, guards arose and stepped around him, spears readied.

"Hold where you are!" said a man. "Are you here to surrender, slave?"

"I am King Abdul Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak," replied Sahshir simply. "I am here to negotiate with Seth Kaba. Step aside, or you will die in turn."

"You..." said the man. "You're that Prince of Kalthak that has been fighting us." There was murder in his eyes.

"I am a messenger under parley, here to speak with Kaba on behalf of my people," said Sahshir. "Grant me an audience, or deny it to me. To harm me is to strike against the rules of all the gods.

"Know this before you act."

The man looked at his sword and stepped back at a pace. "...Give us your sword, and we will take you to Kaba."

Sahshir looked at the blade. He should have known he would never be allowed in Kaba's presence without a blade. "I am a King and entitled to bear this when meeting with one of my peers."

"I don't care who you think you are!" snarled the guard. "If you animals want to beg for mercy, you can do it unarmed!"

"Well then," said Sahshir, "you can explain to Kaba that King Sahshir came to him with a means of gaining victory. And you sent it away before ever he even knew of it."

One of them moved suddenly and struck Sahshir from behind. He fell forward, and they were on him, drawing out the Sword of Order as they did. The pain returned in force, and Sahshir hardly kept from howling in agony. His body was on fire as he struggled to stand, only to be grabbed on every limb. He felt his entire form falling to pieces as chains clapped on him.

Had he forgotten the pain?

Or was he truly that far gone? Pulled to his knees, the guard struck him across the face and raised the sword. "Stupid slave, you'll get your meeting as a prisoner of war."

Sahshir said nothing, merely looking at this thing masquerading as a human being. Was it worth saying anything to him?

"What do you suppose is beneath the mask," asked a man.

"Might as well see..." said a man, drawing off the mask.

They recoiled in horror around him at the sight of Sahshir's face. He used this chance to test the chains on his limbs. They were quite tight and moved to account for his movements, trapping him in place.

"That..." said the leader of these animals. "Put the mask back on. Now."

"The Gods have seen your actions and will judge you by them," said Sahshir.

"Quiet, slave!" said the man, striking him again.

It was a petty agony, hardly noticeable, and Sahshir barely moved. He said nothing, for there was nothing to say. They led him through the camp. Sahshir noticed men gambling, drinking, and partaking of whores. But there were always sober men on guard.

At last, they came to Kaba's drab tent, plain gray tent. Within was Kaba, writing at a desk with a black quill. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "What is it? I told you not to disturb me under any circumstances?"

The guard froze at his voice. "I'm sorry, Lord Kaba. But we've captured a prisoner, the Prince of Kalthak. We found him trying to sneak into the camp."

"He claimed he was here to negotiate," said another.

The guard moved forward. "He bore this."

The Sword of Order was set down on Kaba's desk, and he drew the blade up. For the first time since Sahshir had seen him, Kaba looked fascinated. He held the blade experimentally and smiled at the reflective weapon.

He looked a bit like Nagos.

Then the moment passed. "Fine then, bring him in."

Sahshir was thrust in, and the chains were not removed. "You have a black means of welcoming diplomats."

"Diplomats?" asked Kaba flatly. "Why should I be concerned with a minor chieftain? You're leading an army consisting of my property.

"Your race will always be a third-rate set of sentients. So again, why should I welcome you."

Sahshir smiled. "Because Nagos is going to reduce your entire fleet to driftwood."

Kaba scoffed. "Hardly.

"He'll have to return to port for supplies, and we've conquered other ports. I already have my subordinates working to find countermeasures. Dinis' will surrender soon enough, and the legions will fall in line.

"Sooner or later, we'll crush Nagos and his Fish King worshipping barbarians.

"The most he'll accomplish is an inconvenience."

Fish King worshippers? Why would Kaba say that? Nagos had not raised any temples in Chaminus to the Fish King Sahshir had seen. Then again, he had not been there long, so he might have missed them.

"My concern is the real war, not some remnant of a worthless and indolent society of eunuchs," said Kaba.

Once, Sahshir might have said the same words about Namina and its descendants. But seeing himself reflected in this decayed and stinking corpse of a spirit was odd. Sahshir, as he gazed, that Kaba and those around him no longer saw men.

He saw spirits.

And they were as corpses, rotting away beneath their untreated diseases of the spirit. Kaba himself was truly hideous to gaze upon. As Sahshir looked down at his own hand, he saw his own hand, but complete. It had afflictions and was not as strong as possible, but it was healing. "And how many of your men will be killed in this war? So many of them could be saved if you had simply abided by your word."

A spark of life came into Kaba's rotting body. "Maybe." There was regret in his tone. For all his men's lives meant nothing to him; he did not waste them or mistreat them. "But the long-term profits would be less. This island belongs to House Kaba, and those who do not toe the line have no place on it."

"What do you want?" asked Sahshir, perplexed at this dying thing before him.

"What?" said Kaba.

"What are you seeking to accomplish through all this?" asked Sahshir. "Riches? You are already rich; a thousand men could not spend your income in a lifetime. Power? Surely there are better ways of getting it than this."

"Is the survival of all living creatures in this world of Erian motivation enough?" asked Kaba.

"How is preying on the natives of these islands going to save anyone?" asked Sahshir.

"Their bloodlines are vulnerable to the Fish King's will," said Kaba. "When he arises, it is prophesied that he will destroy the world. Even now, his will is working through all things. Or did you think Chaminus' sudden bout of military competence came from nowhere?

"He whispers in the minds of all those in this place. When he rises from the sea, they will become his servants.

"Some call this event inevitable.

"I have no intention of letting it happen, even if it never happens in my lifetime. Already I have financed studies that may allow us to slay the Fish King, eventually. For now, I intend to ensure that when he does wake up, he'll have to do everything himself. So, when I conquer an island, I use its population to staff plantations that will kill most of them. This, in turn, gives me the cause of war to continue my campaign. I receive profits to channel into research, and my enemy is weakened.

"It should more than sufficiently justify my actions. If no one is alive, morality is a useless thing."

Sahshir looked at his chains and considered Kaba's reasoning. For a moment, he contemplated it, trying to find some value in it. "I have never heard anyone speak more the part of a fool, Kaba. What if everyone thought and acted as you did? Committed grave atrocities, broke their oaths, and destroyed civilizations. All in pursuit of survival alone. As if survival was the greatest good and death the worst evil.

"Such a world is not one I would defend. In that final war, I should take the part of the Fish King to end creation."

It sounded like an excuse for Sahshir. Something Kaba could tell himself needed to happen so that he didn't have to think about what he was doing now. If the world was going to end, let it be the twilight of a glorious civilization of warriors in a final epic battle. Not a slow and miserable decay into nothingness. All in pursuit of survival at the cost of everything else.

Such a death would not be worthy at all.

Kaba eyed him, eyes contemplative. "I believe you have an offer for me."

Sahshir supposed there was no point in continuing this discussion. Yet as he looked at his arms, he found that the spirit seemed stronger still. "The leader of the slaves is named Garacel, and he is an old enemy of mine. He is mighty and seeks to destroy Calisha."

"So you want to deliver him into my hands," said Kaba.

"No," said Sahshir. "I want you to give the slaves leave to depart this land and go to Kalthak. I will resettle them, and you will be free to shape this land however you want. Then, I can influence Nagos and the Dinis Emperor to settle with you." It was, in all honesty, the only thing he could do.

Neither Garacel nor Kaba were worth serving. Garacel was the less monstrous, but both would lead this island to utter ruin. So all Sahshir could do was save who he could.

"Why should I make parley with you?" asked Kaba. "I have an elite army. All I need to do is fill in this swamp, and you will be forced into a confrontation. I've had the better of you in every match."

"And the spirits of the land?" asked Sahshir. "They will judge you. They are mustering as we speak. If you listen, you will hear them."

Kaba's lip curled into a snarl. "The spirits can thank me for leaving them with some of their influence. I don't have time to build shrines for fairies. I've made them cooperate on every other island I've taken. It will be the same here.

"Anoa the Bright had refined techniques." He paused. "That said, you may be of use to me. Deliver Garacel's head to me, and I will allow the Kalthakians to leave. I will keep this sword with me to ensure your cooperation."

Sahshir's first thought was that Kaba would not give the sword back. His next was that he was not going to do what he asked. And his third was questioning how Kaba could think he'd accept such terms. Perhaps this was merely an act of pride.

Sahshir had rejected Kaba's ideology, so perhaps he wanted to establish dominance. Sahshir sighed, very calm, as he looked at the hand with fewer fingers. "...What possible reason could I have to believe you will uphold your end of such a bargain?"

"Do you have an alternative?" asked Kaba.

"Do I?" asked Sahshir with a laugh. "It is written in the texts of Baltoth: Better to cut off your own hand, then willingly put it in chains."

And then he ripped his three-fingered hand off. It was easy. As he did, his body blazed with light and pain...

The pain was gone. The limb he had cast off burned away into ashes as he whirled around and smashed his elbow into the facemask of a guard. The blow bent metal and crushed his skull as Kaba began to flinch. Sahshir dropped low, catching himself on his good arm. He brought around his legs in a spinning kick at the other guard. Again, metal sparked and shattered as bones were crushed and thrown around.

Kaba finished flinching.

Pushing himself up to stand on one hand, Sahshir vaulted toward the Sword of Order. As he did, Kaba began to reach for the blade. However, Sahshir snatched the blade up and put it to Kaba's throat as his fingers closed.

"I'm a firm believer in those texts," said Sahshir.

"... We're in parley," said Kaba.

"I hadn't noticed," said Sahshir before hitting him over the head.

As Kaba fell unconscious, Sahshir threw him over one shoulder, keeping him in place with the stump. Then, turning, he rushed to the tent. The guards came in and quickly lost their heads. More rushed at him, but he moved and weaved automatically, cutting down all around him. Men came from all around him, snatching up weapons.

Spears were cut, hearts were pierced, and dozens of bodies were around him in moments. More joined with every second. Now the Sornians surrounded him, terrified to press forward. Archers bent their bows but were called off for fear of hitting their leader.

And then there was a groaning, a terrible groaning, and a war cry. No, matter war cries, garbled by trees.

The woods themselves emerged en masse from the swamps. They smashed into the camp with roots and limbs, crushing men to death. Birds and beasts of every kind also came, tearing out throats and pecking out eyes.

"FOR DINIS! FOR EMPEROR ARIDIUS!" came Marius' call.

And his men rushed from the darkness as Garacel and his slaves rushed to war. Marius drew out the Blade of Chaos and tossed it through the air. It spun rapidly and landed in Garacel's hand as he landed among the enemy and slaughtered them by the dozens.

The battle turned against them almost as soon as it had begun; the Sornians broke and fled. Many were cut down as they ran, but a few were saved by the arrival of Romilis and his militia. Satisfied that some would live, Sahshir cast down Kaba, who had come too. Then, seeing Sahshir, he staggered back, staring at the hand. "How..."

"The flesh is nothing. The soul is all there is," said Sahshir. Then he plunged forward with the blade. Kaba cried, but the sword plunged past his cheek, leaving a deep scar as the blade drove deep. "You aren't worthy of a warrior's death."

Then he sat down and began to meditate.

If Kaba was stupid enough to try anything, Sahshir would count it as honorable suicide.