While most of the Djinn army was camped outside the walls, unsurprisingly, the Lord of Abāya had offered his hospitality to the army's nobles. The rest of the party was still looking for a tavern that wasn't completely full, but Jasper had headed straight for Commander Ardûl's headquarters. He was five weeks later than they'd anticipated, and he could only hope that the general wouldn't be annoyed by his absence.

After a few false leads, he'd finally be sent to the great tower itself, where he'd been assured Ardûl had been given rooms.

"I'm here to see Commander Ardûl."

"And you are?"

"Lord Yas̆peh," Jasper raised his brow, confused as to why the man was giving him a hard time. Sure, they were headed to war, but they weren't in enemy territory yet.

The guard ran down the list, pausing as he found Jasper's name, but that didn't entirely assuage his suspicion. "Says here Lord Yas̆peh's a member of the Royal House. I've seen them before, and you don't look like them. Guards!"

Jasper suffocated a sigh as the guard called for backup. He had to admit that with his recent change, he no longer looked quite like a Djinn. The lack of horns had already been an issue for him, but at least his reddened skin, as much as he had hated the damned color, had marked him as one of their own. But the transformation to a Dayyāmut Djinn had muddied his skin color, darkening and smoothing out the reddish tint to a hue that he vastly preferred - but it also stomped out the one thing that clearly marked him as a Djinn.

The guard stepped forward and tried to grab him, but he was too low-level to be a meaningful threat to Jasper. He easily shrugged the man's arm off and shoved him to the ground with a little more force than he'd intended to. To the guard's credit, he rolled to his feet spryly and gamely attempted to try again, but that was when the rest of the guards emerged from the gatehouse.

"Kruvas̆, Aslu, what are you doing?" The guard hit the street again as one of his comrades tackled him from behind before he could pounce on Jasper.

"Sorry, Lord Yas̆peh," the second guard looked up apologetically. His face was familiar, even if Jasper couldn't recall his name. "He's new here, but didn't mean any harm."

"It's alright," Jasper helped the two up, cringing as he saw genuine fear enter the first guard's eyes as he realized he had tried to tackle a noble. "I'm sure he won't forget my face again," he added with a chuckle. "Is Commander Ardûl in? I was told his officers were staying here."

"Yes, my lord, but he's in a meeting with Lord Bahrê. I'll let him know you've arrived. In the meantime," the guard led him into the tower, "you can wait in one of Lord Bahrê's sitting rooms. Would you like the servants to bring some maqta?"

Jasper suppressed a grimace at the offer of the sweet beverage the Corsyths seemed to love. He liked sweets in small measure, but the pale red drink was so damn sweet it tasted like liquefied candy and, even if it was supposedly healthy, he couldn't bring himself to choke it down. "Just water."

As the guard left, Jasper surveyed the room. As one would expect of a lord's manor, it was tastefully decorated. A large brick fireplace occupied one wall of the room, with a fire merrily burning to drive away the cold of the rainstorm raging outside. In front of it, sat a table set for maqta and a plate of pastries, while more comfortable chairs lined the walls. He snagged one of the treats, filled with a rich orange filling he hoped was mango, and plopped down in a chair. He'd barely taken a bite, though, before the guard returned.

"Actually, Commander Ardûl will see you now."

Cramming the rest of the pastry into his mouth, Jasper followed the guard up two flights of stairs and down a narrow corridor before stopping in front of an old oak door. "He's through there, my lord."

He knocked on the door before entering, and a booming voice answered from within. "Come in, come in."

Jasper had been expecting Ardûl's whole council to be gathered together, but there were only two men waiting on the other side. One, he already knew - Lord Ardûl, who'd replaced General Tūrzu as the commander of the Djinn army after the debacle with the Lords of Wedenīnu. The Moon-kissed greeted him enthusiastically as he turned to the other man in the room. "This is the mage I was telling you about, Bahrê. He might be able to handle your little problem."

Jasper bowed his head as the city lord turned to look at him. Bahrê was really rather unremarkable, of medium height with hair and eyes the color of mud and a bit of paunch in the middle. The only thing that stood out to him were the three missing fingers on his left hand, which Jasper studiously avoided staring at.

"There a third race of Djinn you've been hiding, Ardûl?" the man grunted.

"He's a special case," Ardûl replied smoothly. "Have a seat, Yas̆peh," he added, gesturing at the map that was stretched out between them.

The city lord gave no objection as Jasper joined them at the table and quickly glanced over the map. The territory depicted was on a smaller scale than the maps he'd seen of the Empire, but he recognized one place at least - the city of Abāya near the top of. "Is this a map of the province?"

"Not the whole province, just my territories," Bahrê explained.

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Ardûl pointed to a fort a bit further north, on the edge of the border between Amur-Corsyth and the province above it, Merôm. "Dūr-Suqêrbettu is having a problem with a band of raiders. The fort's been dealing with them for a while, but the raiders are slowly ramping up and it's starting to disrupt the trade between the two provinces."

"Just bandits," Jasper asked, "or something more?"

"I told you he'd reach the same conclusion," the Moon-kissed commander shot the city lord an amused grin. "The evidence is inconclusive thus far. The only bandits captured have been native Corsyths, but the soldiers of the fort insist they've seen Zalancthians among them. With the Emperor gearing up for his assault against the capital, it seems reasonable to believe the Zalancthians are involved."

"And if the Zalancthians are the ones orchestrating attacks, it may be a ruse to draw Abāya's forces out of the city. Lord Bahrê's has already sent as many troops as he can spare to the Emperor's campaign; he can't afford to send reinforcements to Dūr-Suqêrbettu without weakening the defense of the city," the general explained. "Our walls are strong, but they cannot defend themselves," Bahrê agreed.

"So are we diverting our forces up there?" Jasper asked.

"We can't afford another delay. We're months behind schedule at this point and the Emperor, quite rightly, wants to strike as quickly as possible, before the durgū work up the nerve to invade. Yet, it would be foolhardy to leave a possible enemy force at our backs," Ardûl sighed.

Jasper had a feeling he knew where the discussion was headed. "You want me to go check it out?"

The general responded with a question. "You have three mages in your party now, right? Yourself - a pyromancer, Lord Kabāni's daughter - a wind mage, and that scout with his strange talent with wood?"

"We've got five mages currently," Jasper admitted. "The dwarven prince Lady Kas̆dael sent me to save is a mind mage-" the general frowned with distaste- "And we picked up a temporary recruit, Lady Nissilât from Stryn - although I'm not certain if she would come with us. She has business with the Emperor," he added.

For the first time, Bahrê looked at him with interest. "Five mages in a single party? Tis like a warband of old. You should be able to slaughter a small army of bandits."

"Let's not forget," Ardûl intervened, "that the stoneflesh are more resistant to magic than most. Jasper's party should have no problem wiping out a small force, but if there's a larger group hidden in the woods, it may be beyond what they can handle."

"At least we'd know what we're dealing with," Bahrê grumbled.

"Indeed." Ardûl tilted his head, like a bird eyeing a particularly appetizing worm. "I take it you're interested in my offer, then. Give me enough hides to reinforce the armor of my commanders, and I'll send Lord Yas̆peh to check out your bandit problem."

The city lord hesitated. "It's not that I don't want your help, but the price is just too high. Every lord in Eligon's campaign has sent requests for pesalpû hides, and not all of them are requests, if you catch my meaning." The man shifted in his chair, eyeing the commander speculatively. "How many commanders do you have again?"

"Three hundred and eighty, give or take."

"No," Bahrê shook his head. "That's more than I can spare. It's dangerous to thin the herd out that much."

"If you lose the city to a hidden army, you'll have no pesalpû at all," the Djinn countered calmly.

"I won't be losing the city," Bahrê grunted. "I'll surrender the kruvas̆-cursed fort before that happens. I'm sure the Emperor will liberate it eventually - and without extorting me for pesalpû," he glared.

Ardûl grimaced, but it was clear his offer would have to come down. "What can you offer then?"

The lord scratched his beard. "No more than a hundred and fifty."

As it was less than half of what the commander had asked for, Jasper thought he would counter but, instead, the Djinn leaned forward, with a resigned look on his face as he offered the man his hand. "If that's all you can scrounge up, so be it."

The two spoke a few minutes longer, hammering out the details of the deal, before the city lord departed, leaving Ardûl and Jasper alone.

"You took longer than expected.".

"We ran into a few complications," Jasper replied easily. "Fought a small war, pillaged a Fey city, freed a trapped goddess - small potatoes really."

Ardûl barked with laughter. "Small potatoes indeed. You'll have to tell me those stories sometime, but for now," he leaned forward, "our priority must be this mission."

"Are the skins really that important?"

"No," Ardûl replied bluntly. "The armor will be a nice addition to our forces, no doubt. The southern clans are already unhappy about helping the Empire, and even more displeased with having a Moon-kissed at their head, so the pesalpû hides will be a useful peace offering. The fewer scions of noble houses that die in this endeavor, the better. But on their own, the skins are not that necessary."

"Then why do you want them?" Jasper pressed.

Rising from his seat, the Moon-kissed paced over to the fireplace, looking out on the dismal, rain-drenched city below. "While I hope that the Emperor's campaign will be successful, my first priority is ensuring the survival of this army. Abāya controls the only path back home for hundreds of miles in either direction. If the city were to fall, it would cut us - and every other force from the Western provinces - off until it was retaken."

"Bahrê believes that the attacks on Dūr-Suqêrbettu are nothing more than a diversion, an attempt to draw our forces away from reinforcing Eligon."

"And you don't?"

"I don't know," Ardûl admitted. "In fairness, these Corsyths have spent decades trapped in war against the foe. They know the enemy far better than we Djinn, who have yet to even face the stoneflesh."

"From everything I've learned, it seems the stoneflesh's campaign lost all momentum after they conquered the capital. They've lost more than they've added since, and their unity is quickly fracturing. It's been many years since any significant force invaded the province, so Bahrê may be correct to dismiss the possibility."

"But if I were the Zalancthian commander, facing an imminent attack on my stronghold - I'd try to split the enemy's attention. By taking Abāya, I'd sever the connection between the eastern and western provinces and deal a blow to the Empire's morale. The troops I'd sent would probably be doomed - Abāya is too far from the Zalancthians' center of control to hold onto, but the Empire would be forced to reclaim it and, by weakening Eligon's forces, perhaps the city would hold."

He shook his head. "Bahrê is probably right, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Head to Dūr-Suqêrbettu as soon as you're able and investigate the matter," he commanded.

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