Briach whitened at the blow but remained still as Latulla stood and began to pace.

"What happened to the second expedition?" Latulla questioned.

Haddad saw Briach consider his words carefully. Latulla collaborated with the military commanders before leaving and would not brook even implied criticism from a slave, however favored he might be.

"The attack, from all reports, went well, but the League machines proved more lethal than previously believed. Their weapons were heavier, and our war manikins could not overwhelm them. But the battle was still in our favor until the planeswalker appeared on the field and unleashed a great spell. He turned the ground of the ancestors against their descendants."

"How many died under Teferi's hand?" demanded Latulla.

"Almost none, but the warriors had powered the hollow warriors a long time, and many fell from exhaustion," Briach answered. "The leaders called for retreat."

"So they were not defeated-they gave up!" Latulla said angrily. "At the heart of enemy war production they retired because they couldn't beat the League with the first blows." Latulla threw herself back into her chair and drummed her fingers on the side table.

"How do the warriors feel about their loss?" Latulla spoke slowly as she considered her plans.

"Many of them cannot accept that they did lose," Briach said. "The sailors have lost to the League before, but the army has not suffered a serious setback since it landed. Many of the warriors are angry, striking out at slaves and each other. The number of fights between warriors has soared despite the best efforts of the war leaders to curb dominance battles."

Latulla nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Of course they're angry. They should be enraged. The leaders betrayed them by withdrawing from the field too soon. Had the army stayed, they would have conquered the enemy," she said intently. "We must act quickly to isolate those who would lead us to defeat."

Briach nodded but with some confusion. "Mistress, I am sure that you know best, but I do not know how you can displace the war leaders," Briach stated.

Latulla only threw her cane at his head for daring to question her decisions.

"Of course I can't take direct control of the army, but there are always subordinates whose ambitions can be fired and directed to my benefit. Other voices will say the commands in battle, but the orders will be mine. Call my supporters to me when dawn comes."

Latulla went to her bed, and Haddad crept away as well. The artificer had been expelled from Keld in disgrace. Awake for one day, she was already setting up a personal empire.

Haddad shook his head in reluctant admiration and went to his room. There he dreamed of a kingdom of puppets with Latulla pulling the strings. He sank into a deeper sleep as he appeared in the dream-a marionette dancing to Latulla's commands.

Haddad carried another set of invitations to captains of barge crews and commanders of small companies. Latulla had thrown parties and private dinners all week. She was still imperious and cold, but many of the lesser war leaders received assurances of support for their ambitions. Latulla cast her net wide, and Haddad hit every section of the camp. But he was not her only emissary, and he shuddered as Greel stepped from a tent ahead of him. The monster was smiling and laughing as he left a group of drunken comrades.

"Haddad!" he called and walked over. The League technician wanted to run but could not. Haddad felt a cold sweat as he realized that Greel called him by name.

"What are you holding, slave?" Greel asked. He smiled broadly at Haddad, and that alone signaled he was not a Keldon.

"Invitations to another of Latulla's dinners, master." Perhaps if he was obsequious enough, Greel would be bored and go away.

"Let me see those." Greel reached and took the envelopes from Haddad's fingers. He flipped through them quickly. Many of the passersby looked at Greel. A Keldon male appearing to read was unusual. Haddad usually read the message aloud or handed it to a literate slave when he found the addressee.

"Many of these are my friends," Greel slurred. "I will deliver them if I see them." Greel appeared drunk, but Haddad knew it was an act. Failure to deliver the invitations would mean a severe beating for Haddad.

"I would not have expected you to find friends so soon," Haddad said as he reached for the invitations. It was broad daylight, and Haddad was growing tired of fear. Greel gave back the invitations but still smiled.

"I have many friends, old and new, in this land." He tapped the bronze armband concealed under Haddad's clothes. "You could be my friend since you bear this."

Haddad could not stop from shying away. Greel's face lost its pleasant expression, twisting into a snarl. It almost seemed to glow, and for a moment Haddad thought Greel's true form would burst forth. The fiery light sprang not from inside the monster but from streams of fireballs rising into the sky. Haddad and Greel looked toward the heavens and saw the Keldon weapons converging on an apparently empty space. Then sheets of flame outlined a camouflaged blimp and its defensive fields. Haddad wondered if more than color hid it as his eyes refused to lock on. Suddenly a rack of bombs rained down, and the blimp disappeared. The launchers shot at the falling weapons, and one exploded in a green disk of fire that enveloped the other bombs. The weapons did not fratricide but instead diverged wildly, corkscrewing through the air.

Haddad was rooted to the spot as Greel gripped his arm tightly. The familiar's hand did not even tremor as Haddad tried to pull free. Explosions sounded throughout the camp, but Haddad saw only one. The flash was brilliant white, and the League technician was hurled to the ground as Greel keened in pain. Haddad's eyes cleared, and he saw that the bomb had hurled ropes of fire. The material clung to everything as it burned. Slaves near one building dumped water on a strand stuck to an exterior wall. The water just drained away, and the slaves tried desperately to scrape the fire off as the wood burned fiercely.

Greel crouched in gasping agony. Haddad could see channels of burnt flesh across his chest and neck. The skin bubbled as Greel knelt, oblivious to the world. Haddad ran as magic users closed to extinguish the fires. In the sky, the blimp had vanished, though fire-streamers still shot into the air searching for the craft. After a few more seconds the fire barges stopped, the fires extinguished as the might of the Keldon mages turned to ending the fires.

Greel rose to his feet as a group of slaves came to help him. His features were burned away, and bone showed through the charred meat. One of the slaves vomited at the sight. The monster's fists crushed skulls and caved in chests as he tore through the crowd around him. He ran toward the edge of the colony, pulling a screaming slave behind him like a child's rag doll. Haddad hoped that a mage would burn Greel down before he could feed, but he doubted the monster would be caught. Haddad hurried to deliver the last of the letters, hoping that he could escape soon.

Haddad shifted at the back of the crowd. Latulla had been closeted with her circle all night, and Haddad was dismissed before he could learn much of their plans. He did know that Greel was an instrumental part of those plans, and that was reason enough for worry. A platform had been raised in the field with the stock pens in the background. Latulla chose the spot because it was the largest open space, but Haddad smiled slightly as the morning breeze wafted over the crowd. Latulla's words would smell like manure to the listening masses.