Narcissa needed to feel up to this.

As she made her way out of the swamps, she felt hot, wet, and tired. All three had been qualities she'd enjoyed a lot more when visiting the Priestesses of Safara. It had taken several days, and the heat had been terrible. Several times she'd nearly slipped and plunged into deep water. And she swore the roots grabbed at her once or twice, and not even in the good tentacle way. Far from giving her the thrill of feeling like she was about to be erotically torn apart, she just tripped and fell. The mud didn't cling to her sensually, it just made her look and feel terrible.

Probably the work of Laevian.

But it didn't end there. Now she would have to play mediator between Sahshir and Master Garacel. For her part, she doubted either one would listen to her. Sahshir hated Garacel.

If Sahshir lost, at least he'd be left alive. But Narcissa was supposed to help him win. That meant she'd act contrary to Master Garacel and possibly Zigildrazia's will. Yet maintaining Zigildrazia's people was essential to her.

Then again, the people Narcissa had saved weren't meant to survive. Zigildrazia had evacuated those she deemed valuable for one reason or another. What Narcissa had done had been tolerated, but not to her will.

They were supposed to have become raishans and helped kill the armies of Zigilus.

So was Narcissa actually acting in defiance of Zigildrazia? She didn't like the thought, but what if it was true? Shouldn't she sabotage Sahshir's war effort? Yet that would sabotage Master Garacel's war effort as well, wouldn't it? Would it?

All these questions went through her mind, and no answers came.

It seemed to Narcissa obvious what she ought to do. If she followed Zigildrazia's will, she'd have to sacrifice everything. But indeed Zigildrazia cared little for what actually happened. She had been... understanding of Dinis' continued persistence.

Did Zigildrazia even care what she did?

And if she did not, why did it matter what Narcissa did? If any action was good enough for her Goddess, why should she care what she did?

As she walked, Narcissa thought about all this, and the plants gave her no further trouble. Yet she found no answers as she did. Soon enough, Narcissa came to a field of long grass. And there, on that field, she saw a group of men with spears assembled near a set of long grass. They wore leather armor and caps and had their weapons lowered.

A horde of slaves came at them with axes and spades. They crashed against the formation, and the men held firm, if only barely. They struggled to stand against the enemy, and the enemy was almost enveloping them. The line was breaking!

Then, Sahshir and his men suddenly sprang out of the grass and descended on them, hacking them up from the side.

Sahshir cleaved through two men before coming sword to sword with a Kalthakian. Clashing twice, he slid to a halt, then surged past the man. The two halted, blades still, before the man fell dead. Around him, the battle was raging all the hotter as even more slaves came forward.

Hefting her axe, Narcissa realized that Sahshir had to kill some of his own people. She had no excuse to do nothing. She would act as seemed best to her if Zigildrazia didn't care. Rushing forward, she yelled aloud. "For Zigildrazia!"

Narcissa hit the slaves from behind and brought her axe around. It cleaved three men in half in one swing; another killed four. She felt Amysta screaming in pleasure as she hacked through limbs and body.

The enemy were driven before her into the spears of the defenders. Panicking, the slaves turned and fled. The defenders rushed after them, hacking down who they could. They killed without mercy. Blood was everywhere, but some of the slaves turned and fought, buying time for the others to escape. Not one of the rearguards was spared.

When the battle had ended, the land was riddled with corpses. Most of them were slaves or freemen. Only a few Kalthakians had fallen, and many of them were among the slaves. Sahshir wiped the blood from his sword on the grass, sheathed it, and moved toward her. He was still holding it in an underhand grip, as usual.

"Narcissa, your timing is good," said Sahshir, nodding respectfully. "Though far from perfect."

"That's more luck than intent," admitted Narcissa. Where had she been going anyway? It didn't matter.

"Baltoth says that luck comes from the proper application of intent," said Sahshir.

"What does that even mean?" asked Narcissa.

"If one looks upon the world with clarity, one will act in a fashion that most suit the situation," said Sahshir. "Thus, fortune will be far more likely to strike."

"Kalthakians?" asked one of the militia. "What are you lot doing out here?" His voice was filled with contempt.

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"We have come here as allies of Dinis to aid you against this slave revolt," said Sahshir, looking unamused. "I am King Sahshir of Eastern Kalthak."

There were dark murmurs among the slavers, but the man raised a hand, and they went silent.

"Well, you're here at a good time." said the man. "We were about to be overwhelmed."

"Why were you folk skulking in the grass?" snarled a man. "Waiting for us to be whittled down?"

"Preparing a flanking maneuver," replied Sahshir. "We judged that joining the main defense would be less effective.

"There is little time. Other plantations may have already come under attack. We must go to them." He almost sounded concerned, which was unusual for Sahshir.

"Well, Marindus' is the nearest." said the man.

"Then you'd best get your men and come with us as quickly as possible," said Sahshir. Then he glanced at one of his men warily. "Aresif, get our healers to tend to the militia and prepare them for war as soon as possible." He looked at the man he had been speaking to. "Who are you?"

"I am Orisen," replied the man. "We were formed in response to the message from the port. We've been fighting with these animals for days. They pinned us down here." He looked at the corpses. "This is a lot of destroyed property. Assex, find any of our slaves who remain loyal and healthy. This didn't seem like a natural thing."

"It wasn't," said Narcissa.

Sahshir looked at her. "Meaning?"

"I found Garacel, Sahshir. He's using the hatred stirred in this place to cause rebellions," said Narcissa. "I think he stirs the hatred up in them all at once. Then, when he does it, the enforcers aren't able to gather and get overwhelmed."

"Garacel?" said Orisen. "Is this a sorcerer you speak of?"

"Worse," said Sahshir. "A god, one I've clashed with several times."

Narcissa resisted the urge to point out it was one time, once in front of the gates. The other time had really been Baltoth against Garacel using Sahshir's body.

"In that case, how can we counter it?" asked Orisen.

"Well, it seems that not all the slaves revolted," said Narcissa. "There must be a reason for it.""I should think that obvious," said Sahshir. "Those who treated their slaves with a semblance of dignity would be despised far less. So there would be less to work with."

"Well, we'll have to see to the other plantations," said Orisen. "We can't let good people die because of this monster."

"Very well," said Sahshir. "We will head to Marindus' plantation and see what I find. Narcissa, a word." They walked aside, and Sahshir looked at her hard, and Narcissa saw the blackened skin around his eyes. "What does Garacel want here?"

"He wants to establish his own kingdom," said Narcissa truthfully. "One that worships him and him alone. And he is going to get it if I'm right."

"What makes you sure?" asked Sahshir.

He already knew, didn't he? "Look around you, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Most of the population of this island are slaves. Garacel is using the less useful ones to cover the escape of the strongest. Those he is training into an army."

"You cannot raise an army overnight," said Sahshir. "It takes months of work."

"He won't need to have them all be experts, Sahshir," said Narcissa. "Many of them are probably former soldiers. If he can get them weapons, he'll be able to overwhelm this place.

"And what about Sorn?

"They won't sit still for this. So I don't think we'll hold this place."

"We must at least make an attempt," said Sahshir. "We have an obligation to our allies that must be upheld."

"And what of the Kalthakians, Sahshir?" asked Narcissa. "Will you kill your own countrymen to protect their oppressors?"

Sahshir remained silent, and then he seemed to think of something. "...If we can arrange for all Kalthakians to be freed, it may diminish Garacel's forces by a large amount. Is Garrick with him?"

"Yes," said Narcissa. "They've struck up an alliance."

"Then Sorn may well enter this conflict again." mused Sahshir.

"They won't need to," said Narcissa. "Garacel has the numbers to wipe us out if he has a week to do it. Even without training."

"He doesn't have a week," said Sahshir. "Where is he going to gather food from? Where will his people find shelter? They'll be starving in a few days."

"Do not be too certain, King Sahshir." said the one he'd called Aresif. "Garacel needs a patron, and if he were to establish himself here, it could make him a powerful piece. Elranor might well have a use for him, and we know well the danger of his God Triumvirate."

"You can't rely on miracles indefinitely," said Sahshir. "They only happen once."

Half a day later, they arrived at the Marindius plantation. Or what was left of it?

Every building had been set afire and burned. The fields had been hacked up and burned. Trees had been left standing, but everything else was obliterated. So many corpses had been gathered into heaps and burned. But the heads had been cut off and laid out in another pile some ways away.

"Is this Marindius' home?" asked Sahshir.

"It was once," said Orisen, looking gray.

"From the looks of things, Garacel means to raze this entire island to the ground," noted Sahshir. "Fan out. Check for survivors and look for supplies and equipment we can scavenge. Move quickly."

On the search went, and soon, one of Sahshir's samurai came forward and bowed. "King Sahshir, we found the granary. It's empty. Someone took everything inside it. So are the tool sheds and what looks to be an armory. No survivors, but, well, we found the owners."

The owners had been crucified. From the looks of things, someone had speared them as they hung to ensure they weren't rescued. Three of them were children, two boys and a girl, all disfigured by knives.

"Children dead. This is a grim scene," said Sahshir, tone level.

"It couldn't have happened to a more deserving family," said Aresif, smiling. "Being sold to Marindius was a threat the plantation owners would use. He was a cruel bastard; some say he even shot his slaves for sport. Though I imagine those tales are nonsense, the property is valuable."

"Take them down and bury them," said Sahshir. "Give them such rites as we can manage. Then prepare to move out. We'll save as many as we can, then withdraw back to the city."

"A lot of good that will do us," noted Narcissa. "Why the hell did Nagos have to go without us?"

"You know why," replied Sahshir simply.

And he was right. Nagos didn't want to be here, and his talents were better suited to the seas anyway. Narcissa was annoyed at how Sahshir always seemed to know the reason for things. How was he so calm? Then again, who said he was calm. Whether in a state of white-hot fury or good humor, Sahshir acted exactly the same way.

He was viciously rational that way. It was his best trait.

Narcissa decided she was not going to betray him. Not just because Zigildrazia might or might not want it, anyway.