Lucina pulled out a little notebook and carefully wrote the figure down. "Thank you. Any idea how much this place would cost?" he asked, curiously. "We have around four million imperials on-hand, unless your king would accept scrips from the Imperial Bank..." he let the question hang delicately in the air.

"For a prime dock like this sir... I'd have to guess around seven hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns." Prime dock space in Hadrir was valuable.

((I'll put in a disclaimer that I really have no idea how much the price would be. The above price is an estimated guess based on the Island's economics and the supply/demand of dockspace.))

Lucina quickly calculated the amount in his head, and smiled in relief. “Oh, good, we do have enough. I don’t suppose the king will mind if I just send him the money – plus a bit extra – and get cracking. I really can’t afford to waste any time.” He pulled out the ubiquitous paperbird notebook and quickly scribbled in it, before expertly tearing and folding the missive and watching it fly across the city.

“Now, commander, let’s head back. I’ve had you escort me all over the city, it’s getting late and you must be in need of refreshment – as, indeed, am I. It’s almost time for afternoon tea; I expect if we hurry we can make it. Are you coming, Commander?”

"Yes Sir." The commander replied, brightening up at the idea of refreshments. He lead the ambassador back via a few shortcuts so as to make it back all the quicker.

They arrived back at the Dieman ships in record time, and Lucina led the commander deep into the bowels of the dreadnaught, to a large chamber - by military standards - filled with small tables and elegant chairs. Each one was cleverly concealed by the curving walls, giving the illusion of privacy. Lucina led the commander to an empty table; many of the others were occupied - a low hum of chatter filled the room. "Oh, good, we did make it back in time," he said.

Lucina picked up a heavy bronze carafe from a glowing hotplate and poured its contents into two delicate cups. The rich scent of melted chocolate filled the air as he passed a cup over to the marine. "Help yourself to cakes," he murmured, gesturing at a tiered cake-stand. "And there's water if you need to cool yourself."

Lucina sat back and sipped delicately at his chocolate, humming with pleasure as the rich, sweet and creamy liquid slid down his throat.

He waited politely while Rodham settled himself, before speaking. "So," he said, between bites of cake, his relaxed tone making it clear that this was not a question that needed an immediate answer, "I was wondering, commander, if you could tell me a little more about the other nations of the world. Any information would be helpful - we have a map, but little knowledge other than that. I asked your king, but he is a busy man, and didn't have time to answer me. Would you?"

"Lord, that's good." Rodham said after taking a drink. He took another draught, but had to be careful not to drink it too fast and spoil the flavor. The cakes looked equally as wonderful, like something his mother would make for a treat. He finished half a cake and much of his chocolate before replying to Lucina's question.

"You're probably best off asking a merchant who's actually been places, but I'll do my best." He paused for a minute, considering where to start. "The kingdom of Kaleo is our closest neighbor, and lucky for us they're good neighbors. Nice people, all around, and the land's very prosperous. A lot of merchants will buy foodstuff, steal, and other goods there to sell down south in Sevia. Which is, by the way, not a nice place. The Sevians like to fight a lot, and they're good at it. They even use necromancy to free up labor for wars.

"I'm glad you like it. Help yourself to more, if you like," Lucina said, happily. He frowned as Rodham continued. "Necromancy?" he asked.

"Magically animated dead, Sir. They use 'em for farming but they still don't make enough. Gives me the shivers. We ship a lot of foodstuff from Kaleo to Sevia and come back home with the gold. It's a good thing they don't have much of a navy." He helped himself to another cake, even thinking about zombies couldn't dampen his appetite for these.

"They're real friendly with the Zeb'ron Elves though. The elves... they've not very friendly either. Them and the Rakarskians barely looked at each other before they were off fighting. We've been making a killing off them both though. They're both great industrial producers, so we force them to compete with one another and buy the stuff for next to nothing, then sell it again while they're busy fighting.

Lucina laughed. "Sound economics," he chuckled. "Good for business." His face sobered. "Magically animated dead? I'm not sure I like the sound of that: I think I shall steer well clear for now." He gestured discreetly for a seaman to bring another platter of cakes; they were fast vanishing.

He frowned, trying to remember the map Trifinis had copied from Arkanth. "And...what about Sabryn? Did I say that right? I think you got most of the others, but I seem to remember them being marked down, just below Rakarskia. Would they be interested in trade?"

Rodham frowned a little bit. "Sarbryn used to be a big city on the peninsula, but once the magic school left there was nothing to keep the economy going. It's mostly ruins now, most of the people have shipped out."

Lucina's eyes sharpened. "Magic school? What type of magic? Why did they leave?"

"As far as I know, they had every kind under the sun and a few that wouldn't show their faces there. We used to hire mages from there to move the wind for us, or even make a current. I don't know what happened to them, but once the mages left there was nothing worth looking for in the town." Rodham replied, taking another sip of chocolate.

Lucina's eyes were bright, his mind working overtime. If there was magic, still left there, books and scrolls and written spells, then Burinberg would want it, and they'd stop at nothing to get it, either.

"What a pity; I'm sure we could have learned a lot from them." He paused. "What's the ocean like? The one that goes down the middle of the continent, I mean. We have it down as the Andraic, but you might have it under a different name. It used to be quite full of reefs and islands, which would make navigation a pain if it was like that still."

Just then, however, their discussion was interrupted by a seaman who appeared silently by the table. "Viscount Lucina? I'm terribly sorry to disturb afternoon tea, but it really is quite urgent. The airship is requesting instructions, sir. They're approximately twenty leagues from here."

Lucina flashed a glance at the marine commander, and waved a hand airily at the spread, indicating him to continue to eat if he so wished. "They must really be pushing the engines,” he muttered. “Request an update from the work teams down at our docks - I doubt they'll have finished, but I want to find out how they're doing. Tell the airship to continue approach to Hadrir, but a bit more slowly - we can't repair the engines if they fail. When they arrive in a few hours I'll be waiting to meet them. I'll have some Dancers send them instructions after they enter the harbour."

-------------------------------

[Hadrir, Dieman Docks]

Captain Rannet was supervising the construction of the air-quay critically. They'd progressed quite far, mostly by the simple expedient of going out into Hadrir's teeming streets and offering imperials to anyone who came and helped in the construction gangs, which had grown to gargantuan sizes. Most had been only too happy, after they'd seen the rich glow of the gold. As he watched, the first metal truss was hauled into place, the actnic glare of a solar torch signalling its welding in place to the already metal-sheathed tower-top. The metal shivered before resting on the arcing support beams, the weight being held by the tower.

Below, on the wide courtyard, another labour team was busily clearing and levelling the area, getting rid of all the debris.

A paperbird came soaring down from the sky. He unfolded the message, and sighed. This whole thing was a rush job; he'd be very surprised if it didn't all collapse when the airship tried to dock. But, when the Viscount Lucina commanded...

"How're we doing?" Rannet boomed up to the Islander who'd taken over the task of overseeing the labour teams at the top of the tower.

---------------------------------

[Hadrir Jailhouse]

Scira was meditating quietly when the paperbird flittered in, its warmth bathing his face as he read it. He snapped his fingers; a sudden burst of heat incinerated the tiny paper bird, and a more elaborate gesture made a sphere of solar flame, the twin of one he'd just conjured in the Inquisitor's cell. Right by Sewell's ear.

"Good afternoon, Inquisitor," he said softly.

There were other Islanders interested in the Diemens. None of the merchants had had direct contact with them as of yet, but there was enough evidence. An abundance of gold coins, strange iron ships, rich clothing styles and jewelry. Several fleets of ships were inconspicuously preparing to rush off towards Diemen as soon as an agreement, or even a location, had been reached. One fleet had apparently already taken off in hopes of beating the rush and getting back first.

---------------

[Hadrir, Dieman Docks]

"Looks good!" The Islander called back. "Though I have no idea what exactly it's supposed to look like, so don't take my word for it!"

It was impressive though, he had to admit to himself. Good architecture, and an ingenious way of putting it all together.

---------------

[Hadrir Jailhouse]

The door up to the guardhouse opened with protest as a few guards came down the steps and started unlocking the Rakarskian and Diemen cells.

"Good news!" The sergeant said. He wasn't the same one as the first, he was more cheerful and sarcastic when the opportunity arose. "Deal's been worked out, you're going free once the exchange is made."

[Hadrir, Dieman Docks]

"So long as you're following the plans, and keep all the metal bits in line, it'll be fine!" boomed Rannet. "Just make sure the support arches connect in the right places!"

The work was well in hand; there were only a few more trusses to put in place before a basic outpost-style air-quay was ready. It wasn't anything fancy, certainly no Trifinis and Linebacher job, and there were absolutely no facilities, but it would do until proper teams could be brought over. Rannet quickly scribbled a note to Lucina to that effect, and then began to climb the tower with a view to using his spyglass and setting light to the signal tower.

--------------------------------

[Hadrir Jailhouse]

Scira looked up and quickly extinguished the little solar speech-globe in his hand. "Oh, goodie. Two of the clock tomorrow, am I correct?"

---------------------------------

[DAS Imperious]

The captain read Lucina's note with interest, and then raised his voice. "Seal all gunports! Engines to half-speed! Lancers, full flight, deploy in parade formation! Fire crest-flares, align all lights to fore, everyone, let's give them a show!"

The vast, crimson airship, its belly glowing a brilliant scarlet, its engines pulsing rhythmically, a deep bass roar that was felt rather than heard, began to head into Hadrir harbour as the skies overhead darkened with rain and the evening. The airship looked like a galaxy of lights in the darkling sky, and as the first of the blazing flares detonated in sparkling fire-showers around it the imperious call of its horns echoed back from the sea, it crossed the breakwater line, the Islander ships far below looking toy-like.

---------------------------------

[DNS Enchantress]

A Harlequin had materialised beside Lucina with some worrying news. "Are you sure?" he asked. The Harlequin nodded silently, and faded away. Lucina tapped his finger stogether, briefly, thinking, and then called for pen and paper.

To His Royal Majesty, Adrian Cendar, King of the Isles and Lord of Hadrir,

Again, we hope our missive finds you in good health and your realm in fine and full order. We have recieved some troubling information, concerning merchants and traders under the Islander banner attempting to sail for Diem, and as it is something over which we hope you have some influence, we would appreciate an audience as soon as is convenient.

Yours sincerely,

Viscount Lucina

~Emblem of the Empire~

He had it dispatched with all due haste, sending a Burnished Dusk runner up to the palace.

[Hadrir, Palace Gates]

The Burnished Dusk pounded up to the palace gates, her armour shining darkly in the torchlight, slick with rain. “Message,” she boomed. “Message for his majesty the king!” The gate guards snapped hurriedly to attention as she quick-marched up to them. “Let me through!” she demanded. “I bear an important message for the king or any other senior government official, from the Dieman Ambassador Extraordinary! I must see them at once!”

"Excellent," Inquisitor Sewell said, clambering to his feet. "Knowing Comrade Governor Elphy, he wouldn't do anything until after his nap and quiet light alcoholic luncheon." This would have required some arm twisting to get it before two o clock.

Scira laughed. "Reminds me of my old tutor at the Air Academy," he said with a fond expression on his face. "Drunken old sot. Best flyer there was, though, and never more so than when he was completely plastered."

[Hadrir Jailhouse]

"Ye-esss..." The sergeant replied, eying Scira suspiciously. "I'll be keeping an eye on you two gentlemen until then. There's a bit of business that needs to be taken care of before we let you all out."

------------------------

[Hadrir, Palace gates]

"One moment Miss." One of the guards said, turning and hightailing into the palace to fetch someone who knew exactly what to do. He came back a moment later with the palace chamberlain.

"The King will see you." He said simply, leading the Burnished Dusk through the halls. King Cendar was in the meeting room, discussing around a map with a couple of advisors. When the Burnished Dusk arrived they left for refreshments.

"Now what is this message that is so important?" He asked.

[Hadrir Jailhouse]

"Of course, sergeant. We are in your care." Scira settled back to wait.

--------------------------------

[Hadrir Palace, Conference Room]

The Burnished Dusk handed the king the sealed letter and waited as the king read it.

“Viscount Lucina said I was to provide some background, sir, so’s you’d understand why he wants to see you post-haste.” She paused.

“We think the trading fleet that left has headed out west and then plans to turn south pretty soon, to have a straight run into the Empire and beat all the rest. There are a couple of problems in the way, though.”

The Dusk looked around for a map and then pointed at it. “There’s a big whirlpool here – we call it Siri’s Maw – that we only just managed to escape ourselves. Your ships would probably be pulled in, if their path crosses it. But it’s beyond that that there’s the main problem. See here – the northernmost island of our Empire? That’s the first thing they’ll see, and our guess is that they’ll try and land there.” She took a deep breath.

“That island is the Plague Isle – our memorial to a nation now dead and gone – but the disease that killed them all is still there, and still active. It’s surrounded by a fleet of our ships, and if something comes in to try and land there they have orders to shoot first and ask questions later. We won’t have that disease out in the world again, and if by some miracle your trading fleet manages to land, they’re all going to be dead anyway.” There was a palpable sadness on the Dusk’s face as she spoke softly to the king.

She cleared her throat. “Will you see the Viscount?”

[Hadrir Palace, conference room[

Cendar lead the letter quickly while the Dusk told her story. It was always hard to tell what he was thinking, but there was a perceivable frown that suggested he didn't like this situation.

"Yes. I'll see him immediately." He said, putting the letter down.

She sketched a bow and threw a paperbird up into the air. It spiralled around and then soared out of the high windows, heading for the air-quay.

--------------------------------

The paperbird landed on Lucina just as he was greeting the captain of the Imperious. "I'm sorry," he said, with a winning smile, after reading it. "But there is an incident developing regarding the Islanders. Please, continue to unload your cargo and personnel, and have yourself and your senior officers report to the Enchantress post-haste. There is much to discuss, but I must go and speak with the Islander king."

He left at a pace that was not quite a run.

---------------------------------

[Hadrir Palace, Conference Room]

Lucina paused at the threshold of the conference room and readjusted his face, from harried and worried to something approaching pleasantness. "I'm glad you agreed to see me," he said, striding into the room.

"I think it's an absolute must to intercept your trading fleet before they hit any trouble. I can spare the Oceana, but I'll need an Islander officer who can give them orders and act as a consulate when they arrive in Diem. I'd also request that you ground all trading fleets to the Empire until we have given you a decent map, agreed on a basic trade treaty, laid a few ground rules and give you a copy of the major laws. All of which we have aboard the airship, which has just docked, so it's only a temporary measure. But the essential point is that trading fleet, your majesty. We have to move quickly."

Overreacting, perhaps, but every Dieman had the fear of the Red Death drummed into them from an early age - it was the stuff of near-legend, nightmares, but the effects were known and were horribly real.

[Hadrir palace, conference room]

"Not too quickly, it'll take weeks for the fleet to reach Diem, if they reach it at all." The king replied, keeping perfectly calm despite Lucina's haste. "Since your arrival there has been a large influx of pirates to the southern islands, probably in anticipation of a new trade route. It will be quite difficult for anything more then a fully armed fleet to get through. The southern military outposts are already on the lookout for attempts to pass into the southern sea. If they stop to resupply, which they almost undoubtedly will, they'll be stopped."

The precautions had worked too. A couple ships had already been turned back on his last report. Pirates were such a wonderfully hands-off way to influence trade. "Nonetheless, if you would feel more comfortable sending your ship after them, I will commission an officer to travel with you."

Lucina calmed, and apologized to the king. "Sorry," he said. "It's something of a reflex." He began to smile. "I don't suppose this sudden influx of pirates - and in such a short time, too - would have anything to do with you, your majesty? Strictly off the record, of course." He paused. "As to the sending of a ship, I think it would be best if they had a guide to Empire waters. If we can sort out some trade agreement now - preliminary, of course - with your people, probably nothing more at this point than free passage across our borders for merchant ships, then I see no reason why we shouldn't escort that fleet back to the Empire. What do you think, your majesty?"

He took a glance out of the window, conscious of the time. Down by the docks, just under the blaze of light that was the airship, he could just see two ships launching for the Sabryn peninsula. The orders from the Emperor had been quite explicit about it. A third was ready to go after the trading fleet, and the airship, as soon as it had finished unloading, would head over to the Sabryn beachead to bolster defences and transfer more personnel, before heading to the Isle of Terra, a reputed centre of diplomacy.

"Pirates are never predictable. They tend to go where the money is." Cendar acknowledged. It was tacit enough to confirm Lucina's suggestion without being an open admittance. Very few people were intimately involved in this particular business. "As for a trade agreement, I'm sure you can tell that there are many people simply waiting for the word to visit your home. A preliminary agreement that would allow trade to commence would be in both our interests."

"Excellent," beamed Lucina, a twinkle in his eye. He'd caught Cendar's reference. "Now, in terms of trade, we'd just need to establish a couple of ground rules, before we let people in. Basic things, like obey the harbourmaster's instructions and the police force, declare dangerous goods at port, and so on. Essentially, most of your own rules. Here's a more complete version of our own guidelines-" he set a red leather-bound book stamped with the Empire's seal in gold down on the conference table "-and we would add the proviso 'don't dock at the Plague Isle.' Oh, and if ships do head to the Isle regardless, they will be shot down, and we cannot accept reprisals based on that. There's a kilometre cordon around the Isle, and the warnings are clear enough for anyone. Would that be acceptable? You'll excuse the rush to get this done and out of the way," he said "but I have to catch the Imperious before it leaves again. A new ambassador will have to sort out the fine details - I'm commanded elsewhere."

"Certainly." The king said, placing the book in a drawer. "I'll arrange a party to join the Oceana immediately. I'd prefer to get more solid agreements underway as soon as possible. There is already a large investment in possible trade with Diem. And good luck on your new assignment, Ambassador."

"Thank you, your majesty," said Lucina, bowing in farewell. "I am sure we will meet again. Good day to you." He turned and left.

Shortly afterwards, he was aboard the Imperious, heading at full pelt out across the ocean, bound for Sabryn, with all the paraphernalia required to mount a military expedition and establish a working fortress-town aboard.

The Oceana itself put to sea moments later, the Islanders loaded aboard. Her engines ran to full and the sleek crimson battleship slid out of port and into the sea, raising a vast bow wave as she shot off in pursuit of the trading vessels.

---------------------------------

[DNS Oceana, Observation Deck]

"All lookouts, keep your eyes peeled for that trading fleet," the Captain ordered, flicking a glance at the Islander delegation. "You too, gentlemen - your help would be much appreciated." He pulled out his own glass and began to sweep the ocean methodically. Other ships, the smaller launches from the bays, were already combing further afield.

[DNS Oceana, Observation Deck]

"There's a pirate group north of here. If they're trying to stay on the trade routes as much as possible they'd have to have gone through the straight to the south." Newly-promoted flank-admiral Tuirins said, pointing at a hazy island in the distance. The delegation consisted of a company of marines, Tuirins, ambassador Willam, and a former merchant turned bureaucrat under the name of Harms.

[DNS Oceana, Observation Deck]

The Captain didn't take his eyes from his glass. "Thank you, flank-admiral," he said. "Helm, alter course for that strait at once. Engine rooms, can you give me any more?"

He held the speaking tube away from his ear for several minutes, idly waiting, and then placed it to his mouth. "Do what you can without blowing the ship up, my dear engineer." There was a further burst of swearing, abruptly cut off as the Captain reattached the tube to its mount, but the fire of the engines redoubled and the vast battleship began to shake with the forces being applied. The bow began to lift clear of the water as it shot across the glittering sea.

[DNS Oceana, Observation Deck]

[Sector E5]

"There are few sails there." Harms said, covering his eyes with his hand. There were indeed a collection of sails, more then a dozen. There was also a castle overlooking the strait, and a large town on one side.

"Most of those will be local, but there are a few big sails there that could be merchantmen." Tuirins said. "Captain, I have a set of flags with me. If you don't mind, I'll string up a signal for the castle to let us by without hindrance."

"Be my guest, flank-admiral. Will you require flares or an augmented voice as well?"

"Thank you, but no. I'll only need a high place to string these up." Tuirins replied, pulling a few flags out of a chest he had brought with him.

"That we can do. Here is fairly elevated, or you can climb up to the lookout post - it's through the door behind and to your left. Be sure to hang on to the rails or get a safety rope at all times - the winds can be very strong."

Tuirins used the flags to make a series of signals. He did it twice to make sure they got it. A moment later, a couple flags were raised on the castle's signal pole.

"We're free to pass." He said, folding the flags carefully and putting them back into the box. "The fleet can't have gotten much further then this on their sails. We should see them soon."

"Excellent, flank-admiral. Full speed ahead." The ship surged forwards once more.

Shortly, there came a cry from one of the lookouts. "Sail, sir! Five points south!"

"Right on the line for the Plague Isle," remarked the captain grimly. "All right, bring us about towards them. Flank-Admiral, if you'd make ready with your signals? If you'd tell them to follow us we can show them the safe path to the Empire."

Tuirins obliged, signaling the small fleet to follow. There was a lot of activity on board the vessels, along with rampant signaling between them for several moments before the ships turned several degrees and followed behind the Diemen vessel.

"They've accepted the order." Tuirins said, reading the reply signal. "Lead on captain."

“All ahead full, course for Vanash Ikara.”

“Course Vanash Ikara, aye sir!”

The bloodred battleship turned delicately and began to sail for the Empire of Diem, carefully avoiding sargasso that would otherwise tangle in the screws and rudder and the vast whirlpool that would swallow the Islander ships whole.

After days of sailing across the trackless ocean, the blessed cliffs of the island Empire loomed large, bright white-gold in the tropical sun. The captain smiled as they headed for the channel between cliffs that led to the Lagoon and the glittering Imperial City.

The twin fortresses atop the cliffs that encircled the Siriatic Lagoon began to fire their serried ranks of cannon, the thunderous reports echoing off the sea to welcome the foreigners, as the Islander ships drew closer, escorted by the battleship.

The Islander ships drew closer to the cliffs, and further crimson vessels shot out to form an honour guard about them. As they passed through the Belis Mouth, a rank of trumpeters on the escorts let loose a royal fanfare that echoed off the glassy lake.

Before the fleet towered the Imperial City, built on a gargantuan island but so completely covering it the city seemed to rise out of the glassy Lagoon on its own, a profusion of ornate spires and domes flashing in the sunlight, creamy marble and harsh gold and glittering, insubstantial glass.

Flares sped up from the city and burst into solar light and words. The captain squinted up at them through his glass. “Set course for Demar Marina,” he called.

Shortly, the Oceana drew up to the dock and fired its ropes deep into the quay. The captain started down the gangplank and bowed to the Dieman waiting on the docks amid a bevy of soldiers. “Allow me to present Flank-Admiral Tuirins, of the Kingdom of the Isles,” he said, gesturing at Tuirins.

“Hail to you,” said the gentleman waiting for them. He was young, very young, but he carried with him an air of gravity and authority far beyond his years. A golden tiara adorned his head, and his robes were glowing crimson mood-silks, his flame-red hair intricately braided. He carried a short rod, solid gold by the look of it, with a huge ruby embedded in its tip. Rubies also glowed like fire at his neck and ankles. “I am Prince Noon. Welcome to the Empire of Diem.”

((Shift to Empire of Diem thread now, I think.))

[Hadrir, Dieman Docks]

Sir Viorel Wingates-Linebacher, the new ambassador who had just been dropped off by the Imperious, was bundled up in so many furs he looked vaguely like a penguin and wore an expression of suffering on his face. He read Lucina's missive with a cup of hot chocolate clasped as close to him as humanly possible, and sighed. "Order round a carriage," he snapped. "Make that two carriages. We're going to the bank."

--------------------------------

[Hadrir, Bank of the Isles]

((Don't know its actual name))

Viorel glared up at the bank's imposing frontage, but it was obvious he was going to have to get out of the nice, warm carriage sooner or later. He sighed and heaved himself up. He was a large man, fat from money and good food, but his brain was as keen as ever and his hair only lightly dusted with gray.

"I wish to speak to the manager," he said imperiously, as two servants came forth to take his top hat and coats. "Take me to him, if you'd be so good."

[Approaching Hadrir in sector E-6]

A small, wooden caravel flying the justice scale of Jolayst approached the capital of the Islands, Polvin on board to speak with King.

[E-6]

The ship was stopped outside of Hadrir by one of the patrol corvettes, but after being shown the letter they escorted him to the docks on Hadrir, where an orderly and an escort were waiting.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of the Isles sir." The orderly said. "My name is Darvin Allirem. I've been instructed to assist you during your stay here. The king is currently busy, but will be at court tomorrow and ready to receive you."

"Thank you." Polvin responded to the man. "Am I to stay on my ship or have there been other arrangements planned for me already?"

"That is entirely up to you sir. If you wish you can stay in an apartment in the castle, or you can stay on your ship." The orderly responded.

"I would much appreciate the apartment, sir."

"right then, this way." The orderly said, leading Polvin up the hill and into the castle. The Apartment was a nice one, though not extravagant. It help the basic amenities and luxuries: A bed, a water basin, a fireplace, tapestries and decorations, a chamber pot (Just about extinct in this techno-world aren't they).

"If you need anything I'll be right down the hall."

-----------------------------------------

The next morning the Orderly knocked early.

((Quite so.))

"Thank you." Polvin answered before making himself comfortable and settling down.

-----------

Polvin, a bit surprised at the early tidings, but was still awake, writing about what he had seen of the Isles. "The King is ready I suppose?" He asked the orderly as he opened the door. He was wearing white trousers with a long blue overcoat.

"Yes sir, this way." The orderly said, leading Polvin down a hallway. He did not lead him, as might be expected, to the throne room. Instead he stopped in front of an ornate wooden doorway that was one of the King's meeting rooms. It was just as richly decorated and designed to impress visitors, but it was designed to do it in private. "He's right inside."

"Thank you." Polvin said with a bow of his head as he entered the room and gave a bow to the King. "Greetings, sir. My name is Polvin, representative to Jolayst."

Adrian Cendar nodded in acknowledgement, shaking Polvin's hand firmly. "Welcome to the islands then. Have a seat." He gestured to the finely built chairs. "I trust that you understand why I sent for you?"

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