"I sometimes wonder, Raden, if we were too quick to associate ourselves 
with Kaeir," said Dr. Vellin as he cut a slice of the poached sea bass 
on the plate in front of him.

Raden Ghere, Councillor for Special Projects, glanced at his boss. They 
were enjoying a quiet meal in the main dining room of Regency Hall, 
formerly a wing of the Imperial Palace, and now the seat of the Regency 
Council. "Why do you say that, sir?" he asked.

The First Councillor jabbed his fork into the fish and took a bite, 
before replying, "Well, it's not the actions of the whole Kaeiran 
Republic that are bothering me, it's Lord Basilludin. The man is like a 
bull on the loose. He defied his own government by intervening in 
Saltrim, and now I have heard that he's gone out and pacified the 
countryside to the south of Saltrim, over the Conclave's vocal objections."

Raden raised an eyebrow. "But Basilludin's no longer a Senator. How much 
influence can he really have?"

Dr. Vellin laughed humorlessly. "Lord Basilludin has control over most 
of Kaeir's army, he's far enough away that he can ignore the Senate's 
orders, until and unless they're willing to send troops to enforce those 
orders--and even then, he's so popular with their army, the Senate would 
have a hard time finding anyone to rein him in."

"I see, sir," said Raden, "I hadn't given it that much thought. My 
attention has been with the Service of late. But, now that I come to 
think of it, Basilludin's religion poses a bigger problem."

"That Millat Shanari nonsense? You're quite right. Those desert 
religions have always been and will always be bad news. Still, the 
majority of the Kaeir aren't accepting it, but Basilludin's army is 
Millat, heart and soul. If he were to contemplate a coup . . ."

At that moment, a waiter came up to the table where Dr. Vellin and 
Councillor Ghere were sitting. He bore a silver tray on which rested a 
sealed envelope. "I am sorry to interrupt, sirs, but this message has 
just arrived for you, First Councillor. It appears to be urgent." The 
waiter handed the envelope to Dr. Vellin, bowed, and hurried off.

"What is it?" asked Raden with curiosity.

"It's from our ambassador in Burcancy. Odd, his regular report isn't due 
for another two weeks, and he normally sends it to Theran Rinn," said 
Dr. Vellin. "It must be important."

Dr. Vellin broke the seal on the envelope, and unfolded the parchment. 
As he read it, his complexion paled. "What's the matter?" asked Raden, 
alarmed by the First Councillor's reaction.

"Villard of Burcancy, and all his family who were in the Palace are 
dead. Almost certainly Vraa'al assassins. Empress Yzara's son, who 
Villard's spies kidnapped from Arelcar, has disappeared, probably taken 
back to his family. The only members of Villard's family who are still 
alive are his daughter and grandchildren in Mir," Dr. Vellin replied. 
"And that's not the worst news, Raden, oh no."

"What could possibly be worse?!"

"Two weeks ago, refugees from Torphan started coming across the Wall. It 
took awhile to find a translator who speaks Torphani, but they finally 
managed it," said Dr. Vellin. He laid down the letter, and reached for 
his glass of water. He took a long gulp, and put the glass down with a 
slightly shaky hand.

"According to the refugees, the Ice Demons broke through the Torphani 
defenses at the Pass of Tavar. The Torphani pushed the Demons back, but 
they may not be able to hold them. The refugees figured they'd have a 
better chance on this side of the Wall of Torphan."

"Damn," said Raden Ghere.

"Indeed," said Dr. Vellin.
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