It had taken work days, and every moment had been more complex than the next.

Sahshir strongly suspected they were all heading for disaster. With the uncanny silence from the slaves, this suspicion grew more robust. Several more skirmishes were fought. These were largely inconclusive as his men scoured the island.

"Is everything prepared?" asked Sahshir of Narcissa by the docks.

"Yes, Sahshir, for the last time," said Narcissa, flipping through pages. "We've commandeered five merchants' vessels for our use. And we've conscripted sailors to help us. We've got a crew of twenty on each, besides my troops. We should get to Nagos and, with any luck, bring him back.

"This isn't really my thing. Alkela has always been better at records and such." She sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing with this."

"Don't worry," said Sahshir in amusement. "If I don't, none of us will be alive to bear the shame of defeat."

Narcissa didn't smile; if anything, she looked more annoyed. "Why did Nagos have to leave when he did?"

"He couldn't have known another fleet would come," noted Sahshir.

"But he could have suspected!" said Narcissa. "He knew something like this might happen and went off to sink more fleets!"

"You think he wanted this place to fall?" mused Sahshir.

"He probably decided that he'd rather not protect it and go to serve the Emperor in other ways," said Narcissa. "The Emperor will not appreciate it since he's presently a corpse. Just as planned, I'll bet."

"Has there been any word from our fleets?"

Narcissa sighed. "Yes. A bird arrived for you, bearing this message from home." She drew out a scroll and offered it to Sahshir.

Sahshir took it. "Thank you."

Unrolling it, Sahshir saw it was from his uncle. He smiled at how he was addressed for the first time in a long time.

King Sahshir,

We've been worsted on the ocean but kept the ships intact. We Kalthakians could be better at this kind of fighting. So I'm sending out small fleets to raid shipping and have ordered them to avoid the main fleet.

I've ordered the harbors fortified and dispatched Sushaki to see to the matter. In this, he has made me proud. The Sornians launched an attack, but we repulsed it and took a few of their vessels. Even so, Raj seems ill-suited as an admiral. He performs better than I would have, but most of his time is spent leading raids.

He has gathered a lot of booty from a raid on one of the Sornian Sugar Islands. There he burned several houses and freed many slaves. I have begun training them as spearmen. They may die well, repulsing enemy invaders, but they are loyal.

I advise that we abandon the sea war and look weak.

Let the Sornians think us beaten and invade on land. There we may crush them at our more substantial area of fighting. We have the advantage on the home ground.

Oh, and Western Kalthak wants to join in. They've asked for permission to aid our fleets. I don't care much for the worshippers of Rammas, a son who betrays his father is unworthy. Even if that father is Baltoth. But we'll need all the help we can get with Sorn raiding the shores. As such, I have chosen to accept their offer.

I'd ask for your input, but by the time this gets to you, the war will be in full swing, and any orders you give will be moot.

I hate long-distance communication,

Your Affectionate Uncle, Asim

Sahshir laughed. Narcissa looked up in surprise. "What is it? What's so funny?"

"Well, now we know why Sen Kaiban is sending a fleet after us," said Sahshir, rolling the paper up. "Raj launched raids on his islands." He didn't feel depressed, though; all men died. Most men failed miserably. To die gloriously was a privilege.

"We were at war with Sorn anyway," said Narcissa.

"We were at war with House Magnious, and House Kaiban might have cheered to watch them burn," said Sahshir. "They are much like Western and Eastern Kalthak, to be honest. Now we're contending with Sorn as a whole. They even attempted an attack on our harbors, though they were forced back." He pocketed the letter.

"No matter. When we crush, both of them will be glorious."

A member of the Silent Guard rushed forward and kneeled before him. Sahshir gave me leave to speak. "King Sahshir, Aresif has returned. With him are a large number of Kalthakian and Zigilithian slaves."

Sahshir looked up in amusement. "They are not slaves anymore. We'll see to such things after we're done here."

Sahshir and Narcissa marched out to meet the new arrivals before the gates. All of them were fit and young, some too young. Many saluted. "King Sahshir, we serve Baltoth in all things."

Sahshir nodded. "Brothers, I am pleased to see you here. In the name of Baltoth, I bid you welcome, and you need not fear chains here. Aresif, are these all of them?"

"Yes," said Aresif. "Some chose to stay with Garacel. They fear the power of Sorn, who are planning a landing."

"Are they?" asked Sahshir. "And what part does Garacel have in it?"

"He plans to secure a landing point for them and ensure we do not interfere," said Aresif. "Get these men weapons and let us prepare for war, Narcissa; see to your business."

Narcissa set out that day. Sahshir had neither the time nor patience for the formality of seeing her off. He was too busy.

Of course, while arming them, Romilis was less than happy. Neither were any of his men. "You want to give these runaway slaves weapons?" asked Romilis.

"We need all the men we can get if we are to emerge victorious here," said Sahshir, looking on as men were given new weapons.

"Will you at least return them to their chains when we're done?" asked Romilis.

Sahshir looked at him flatly. "Do you think they will fight for us under such conditions?"

Romilis flinched under his gaze. Eventually, he looked away. "You don't have to tell them."

Sahshir's hand was at his sword momentarily but halted the movement before he drew it. Sahshir calmed himself. "... Don't ever suggest I break my word of honor again, merchant." Then he looked to Aresif. "Aresif, what is Garacel's plan, if anything."

"He has allied with Sen Kaba, agreeing to shield his landing," said Aresif.

"However, he expects to be betrayed. He has some plan that accounts for this, though I need to see what it could be.

"He has also established fortifications on a hill amid the swamps. An alliance with Laevian protects him from disease, and he is growing strong. Food is provided by bountiful plant growth."

"Then let's stop wasting time and attack!" said Romilis, voice desperate. "If we strike at them hard and fast, we may be able to finish the slaves once and for all!"

"Do you not think we should deal with the Sornian invasion before we contend with a ragtag group of bandits?" asked Sahshir flatly.

"The Sornians we can make a deal with," said Romilis. "Those slaves all need to die."

"What of your loyalty to Dinis?" asked Sahshir flatly.

"The Emperor is dead!" said Romilis. "His priests of Safara, we demand we treat our property as people! They tell us how we should run our own affairs and tax us to the hilt!

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Why should we fight to defend his nation when-"

"You owe the Emperor your allegiance; he is my ally," said Sahshir, wishing dearly to kill the man. "I will not tolerate any further dissent. Get the militia, now. All of them. As soon as the scouts arrive, we're marching to war."

And so they did.

Once again, they issued forth from the gates and were in greater numbers this time than before. Traveling in ranks, they moved on. The Dinisian militia numbered perhaps six hundred and grew as they went on. As Sahshir marched, he reflected it would be best if the colonial militia took the brunt of the assault. Cutting down on their numbers would make it easier to control this place.

No.

No, he would give each force the task they were best suited for.

On they marched, and soon enough, the scouts returned. The man bowed. "King Sahshir, we've found their landing site. They're sitting down on the far side of the island. Garacel has established his forces there, and they are guarding the approach."

"How many do they number?" asked Sahshir.

"I could not get an exact count of the Sornians, but there were nearly a thousand on the shore. Garacel has numbers larger still than what they have. Though the Sornians seem well trained and equipped."

"Lead on," said Sahshir.

They marched swiftly, and the Hand of Baltoth must have been driving them on, for the journey was swift. They passed wrecked homes and obliterated farms, and many colonists looked grim. But the Kalthakians cheered at the sight. Sahshir was quick to quash these celebrations, of course.

"They are our allies, and you will not mourn their misfortune," he said. But the fact was noticed by Romilis.

And at last, they rounded a hill and saw the fleet of House Kaiban. Even now, vessels were being unloaded of men and supplies. Their soldiers wore armor and were at the ready. It was obvious they would need to be taken off guard easily. Even now, they were assembling. Sahshir moved back to his subordinates and spoke with them each.

"Romilus, your men will take the right flank," said Sahshir. "Aresif, take the slaves not from Kalthak and place them on the left. Marius shall form the center of the army. We'll advance down the hill and overwhelm them in one stroke."

"What of your forces?" asked Romilis.

"My Kalthakians will remain in reserve," said Sahshir. "And strike wherever we see an opportunity. Unfortunately, we are not well suited to engagements of attrition."

"Very convenient, of course," said Romilis.

Sahshir ignored the barb.

The army was assembled, and their forces were put into good order. Even as the assault began, however, Sorn had thrown together a battle line. Spears were lowered, and the two sides marched toward one another.

Nearer and nearer they went, the battle seemed about to be joined. Then, suddenly, there was a signal horn blown. The colonial militia turned. They were breaking off from the battle in an organized retreat. But, before any action could be taken, the Sornians rushed forward as if expecting it.

"Cowards!" snarled Sahshir. "They've withdrawn before the face of the enemy! Forward to battle!"

Sahshir sprinted forward with all his might, trying to reach the breach in time. Sprinting ahead of his men, he leaped upon the Sornians and hacked them apart into spears. He cut down two men in a flurry of strikes, and the line slowed beneath his attacks.

Then the rest of his men came in, and the battle was joined.

Sahshir saw one of his men impaled through the stomach. Then the spearman had his head cut from his shoulders. A legionnaire ran a Sornian spearman through the gut and knocked back a pike. Sahshir hacked and slashed with all his might, trying to break the enemy lines.

But these men were no frightened slaves. On the contrary, they were grim and experienced, and heavily armored. Even now, more and more men are killed. "For Sorn! For Suvvest!" They cried. "For the Coin!"

"For Baltoth! For the Inexorable One!" howled Sahshir.

The combat was a blur of severed limbs and the howls of the dying. The men of Kalthak fought like the Immortals of Baltoth themselves. But little by little, they were failing.

Then it happened.

The enemy line buckled. Looking up, Sahshir saw that Aresif had broken the left flank. But, even now, the enemy was fleeing to the sea. Soon the whole Sornian army was breaking as men withdrew.

"They're drawing back! Abandoning the attack!" cried Aresif, sword in hand.

"Don't let them break free!" said Sahshir, realizing this was a critical moment. "Kill as many as you can!"

So they descended, cutting down all they could find. But the Sornian retreat was well-ordered. A small knot of men turned and faced them, holding them back for precious moments. Finally, their comrades got aboard the boats. Then they fled.

The victory was theirs; now, they had to tend to the wounded.

There were far more dead than wounded. Marius' physicians were more than sufficient for the task, well-practiced as they were. But as Sahshir looked out over the sea, he realized that there were many fewer ships than expected. Fewer even than House Magnious had deployed before.

"King Sahshir!" laughed Aresif. "Those cowards in the militia have been ambushed! Garacel caught them while they were fleeing and killed many!"

"Why are you celebrating?" asked Sahshir. "We have been betrayed. Romilis had arranged this beforehand. I must head back to the city. Sen Kaba has already raised his banner over it. Marius, take command and possession of these supplies.

"My guard and I will scout matters out."

Sahshir hated being right.

There was House Kaiban's symbol, as it had looked in the books. A white dragon on a purple background. And on the walls were many men with crossbows and armor.

"A diversion," said Aresif.

And then Garacel appeared in a mist of black smoke, as expected. "Yes. And it is the seeds of ever greater hatred."

"We have a common enemy," said Sahshir flatly.

Garacel blinked. "You are perceptive. What makes you sure I am not Kaba's ally?"

"He would not have convinced Romilis to betray us if he did not intend to put your people back in chains," said Sahshir. "And you would not have been standing by to ambush the militia if you hadn't at least counted on the fact.

"I merely assumed you were here to ask for an alliance."

"You go on too fast," said Garacel. "Kaba's failure is not yet complete."

And he motioned with the Blade of Chaos. As he did, an image appeared before Sahshir and Aresif. It was Lieutenant Garrick walking through the streets of the city. Men were being treated for injuries there by the women. Heavily armed soldiers patrolled the streets.

And there was Kaba, or so Sahshir assumed by his long coat and how others spoke carefully. He was sitting at a table, writing quickly in elegant handwriting as Garrick stood before him.

Kaba pretended to take no notice of Garrick as he waited. It may have been an effort to intimidate. It worked on some of the other hangers-on; they looked nervous. But Garrick simply stood there, expression flat and emotionless. He did not so much as shift as he stood there like a statue.

"Lieutenant Garrick, you've returned," said Kaba, looking up.

"Yes, I have to ensure the completion of the contract," said Garrick simply.

"Contract?" asked Kaba, a smile coming to his face.

"An agreement was made between you and Garacel," said Garrick. "We would ensure your forces could land, and in exchange, this area would be set up as an independent island." He looked to Romilis, who stood by Kaba's left side. "Obviously, the situation has changed. I believe we should renegotiate the terms of the agreement."

"There will be no negotiation," said Kaba. "Garacel's 'people' are stolen property. They were never his to negotiate on behalf of in the first place. The deal was made under false pretenses." And he went back to writing as and pretended to take no more notice of him.

"You who have gone behind Garacel's back to ally with his enemies speak of false pretense?" asked Garrick. Kaba held Garrick's stare, and the two just looked at each other.

Kaba shifted in a sign of unease. "If you have nothing else to say, leave my presence."

Garrick drew out a scroll and unrolled it. "I have here a signed contract of Coinfurth you put your name on. By signing this, you acknowledged Garacel as the legitimate steward of his people. It is implicit in the agreement.

"He provided a service by diverting your enemies. You still need to give the agreed-upon payment. Indeed, you have already promised what you owe him to those you agreed to exterminate. This does not seem legal to me."

Kaba suddenly looked up, and his smile had totally faded. "Legal?" he asked. "The law is a tool the rich use to control the poor. Nothing more. It has no actual meaning beyond that."

"You have not had your throat cut by those who shave you," noted Garrick. "So clearly, it has some meaning. I think you would be long dead in a world without contracts."

"Maybe so," said Kaba, "but you seem to have the wrong idea about the purpose of contracts. You may think that laws, morals, and religions are all things that bind the world together.

"They don't.

"Power and money hold the world together. The Great Noble Houses of Sorn like to tell themselves that they're superior to the sheep they cheat. They makeup concepts like nobless oblige or the Suvvestian code. They argue about precedents and such so they can feel smug.

"In the end, though, they're all fools.

"I don't deal with things without profit. I don't stand to profit from those savages not being enslaved. And since you cannot enforce the worthless scrap of paper in front of you, I'm cutting costs."

"You may make what excuses you will, Kaba. However, you have signed your signature on a document of trade," said Garrick. "You will pay the agreed-upon sum or renegotiate your contract. If you do not, it will be considered a breach." How had he made that sound terrifying?

Kaba snatched the contract from his hand and tore it apart. "To hell with your contract. I am rich, and they are poor."

"And you will learn that money is only symbolic of value," replied Garrick.

The wind howled, and Garrick drew his sword. The massive blade shot down as a thunderbolt, and Kaba rolled aside. The ground cracked where it smote the cobblestones, and a pit was delved into the earth. Kaba drew out his knives, and then Garrick was on him with a feral snarl on his face. Two guards in full armor barred his path and were cut clean in half with one blow. Kaba ducked behind a pillar to avoid Garrick's next stroke. The pillar shattered, and stones flew around them.

As Garrick advanced, Kaba hurled a knife, which was easily deflected. Guards came from around, yet Garrick swung his sword in great arcs. Each one cleaved through armor and flesh and bone-like string. He seemed veiled now in a golden light so that he seemed now a statue of precious metal.

In terrible fury, the Knight of the Coin advanced on Kaba. Corpses and blood were everywhere as men cowered before the face of Coinfurth. Kaba, however, remained composed and expressionless. He drew out two more long knives and took a stance.

Garrick seemed about to rush at him.

Then he halted as if a voice was speaking to him. "Your debts will be paid. In this life. Or the next." Then the winds howled as a hurricane, and Garrick disappeared in a shower of gold. "Coinfurth will collect his due."

And the only remnant of his presence was the winds, which continued long after.