The Unwelcome Warlock

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Hanner had been expecting the dream, so when he found himself in Ithinia’s parlor, facing Rothiel of Wizard Street, rather than on his makeshift mattress in the village beyond the tapestry, he was not surprised.

“What’s going on, Hanner?” Rothiel demanded. “Where are you?”

“Hello, Rothiel,” Hanner said. “I’m in the refuge beyond the tapestry.”

“You are? Is Vond… We had reports that he followed you through the tapestry, but since he’d be powerless there, we don’t…Is he there? Where is Vond? Do you know?”

“I do,” Hanner said. “He did come here after me.”

“He’s there? But he doesn’t have his magic there, does he?”

“He doesn’t have anything,” Hanner replied. “Vond is dead. The return tapestry was ruined, and we were all stranded here, and someone cut his throat.”

“Dead?” Rothiel looked shocked. “You’re sure he’s really dead?”

“Oh, yes,” Hanner said. “His body has been burned. He’s unquestionably dead.”

“Then it’s over?” Rothiel asked. “It’s really over? There are no more warlocks?”

“Well, I don’t know of any more,” Hanner replied, nettled at the wizard’s attitude. Rothiel seemed to have forgotten that he was speaking to a former warlock.

“Ithinia will be pleased.”

“Ithinia?” Hanner’s temper got the better of him. “This… This…Ithinia caused this! If she had left Vond alone, he might never have caused any real trouble! If she didn’t want him using his magic, she could have talked to him, made a deal of some kind!”

The wizard stepped back, startled by Hanner’s outburst, then shook his head. “He couldn’t be trusted, Hanner,” Rothiel said soothingly. “How many times did you see him break promises? How many people did you see him hurt, simply because they were in his way? Yes, we tried to trick him into giving up his magic, but did he try to talk to us when he found out? No, he killed our agent, and made threats and demands, putting hundreds of innocent lives in danger – lives that included your own sister and her family, I believe! Sooner or later, he would have done something catastrophic. He had to be stopped.”

Hanner did not really want to defend Vond, but he could not resist saying, “So he couldn’t be trusted with such powerful magic, but Ithinia can?”

“Ithinia has had her magic for centuries, and I don’t see any disasters she’s caused,” Rothiel replied. “Besides, the Guild disciplines its own members, while no one could discipline Vond.”

“The Guild disciplines its own?” Hanner said sarcastically, his hands on his hips. “Really? Who has the power to keep Ithinia from doing whatever she pleases?”

Rothiel’s expression changed. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder.

“Don’t ask that, Hanner,” he said. “You really don’t want to know.”

Startled out of his anger, Hanner blinked and did not answer for a moment. Then he said, “Can you get me back to Ethshar, even though the tapestry is ruined?”

“I’m fairly certain we can arrange something,” Rothiel said. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you alone? No, you said you all were stranded. Who else is there, besides yourself?”

“About a dozen former warlocks, and a dozen or so mercenary swordsmen Vond hired.”

“Mercenaries? Do you mean professionals from the Small Kingdoms?”

“No, I mean recruits from Shiphaven Market.”

“Was it one of them who killed Vond, then? Lost his temper over the ruined tapestry, perhaps?”

“No. It was…someone else.”

Rothiel considered that for a moment, obviously considering possible reasons Hanner had not named the killer, then turned up a hand. “Well, we’ll see about getting you all out, and I don’t think anyone is going to bring any charges about any of this – after all, I would think that place is outside the overlord’s jurisdiction. I trust you can hold out for a few more days?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. I hope to see you in the waking world soon.”

And with that, the dream was over.

When he awoke, Hanner told the others about the dream. He had the very definite impression that not everyone believed him, but there was nothing to be gained by arguing about it. It didn’t really matter what anyone thought; they had all come to terms with their situation, and accepted the reality that there was nothing they could do to aid their rescue or hurry their return to Ethshar. All they could do was wait, and make the best of their situation while they waited. They gathered nuts, caught fish, and made do, Vond’s mercenaries and the former warlocks working side by side.

The unchanging sun gave the refuge a timeless feel and made it impossible to judge just how long it really was before a wizard’s apprentice appeared at the top of the slope, a heavy tapestry across his shoulders. Hanner and the others had slept twice more, so two or three days seemed like a reasonable guess.

Rudhira had not been seen during that time; in fact, no one had seen her since she fled after cutting Vond’s throat. Hanner hoped she was safe. There had been vague suggestions that she should be hunted down and imprisoned, to be brought before a magistrate if and when they were able to return to Ethshar, but no one seemed eager to pursue the matter. Certainly, no one had done anything about her by the time the apprentice was spotted.

The new arrival was greeted with shouts of joy, but Hanner noticed that not everyone joined in – and it wasn’t just the Called who appeared unenthusiastic. A couple of Vond’s hirelings did not cheer. Marl, for one, looked more pensive than excited.

“Do you think it’s a trick?” Hanner asked him.

Startled, Marl turned to look at him. “No,” he said. “I just don’t have much to go back to.”

“Neither do I,” said Sidor, who had overheard, “but I don’t want to stay here. It’s creepy, the way it’s always early afternoon – it doesn’t feel real. Those houses are all a bit strange, too – and who built them, anyway?”

“I’m not sure anyone did,” Hanner said. “They may have been created by magic.”

“Well, I don’t like them.”

“You could build your own, if you wanted to stay.”

Sidor shook his head. “I don’t. I’m going back to Ethshar.”

Hanner nodded, and argued no further. Together, they joined the crowd following the apprentice down the hill. When they reached the village, the boy turned and said, “Which of you is Hanner the Generous?”

Hanner blinked; he had heard someone call him that before, but had not realized it was becoming his accepted name.

“He is,” Marl said, pointing.

“Where would you like it, sir?” the apprentice asked Hanner.

Hanner chose a building more or less at random, and a moment later he watched as the apprentice secured the tapestry’s support rod to the exposed rafters of one of the village houses, and then unrolled the hanging.

Hanner noticed that the rod had curious orange crystals at either end, and that two more crystals weighted the tapestry’s lower corners. Those drew his attention so that he did not even register the tapestry’s image at first. When he did finally look at the picture, he was startled to realize he recognized it; in fact, he was fairly certain he had been through this very tapestry once, long ago. It showed a sunlit little room with whitewashed walls and wicker furniture, though the image had been carefully arranged to hide the sun’s angle. Hanner knew that room; it was in Ithinia’s house on Lower Street, overlooking her garden.

If this tapestry did still work, that meant her house was still standing, which was good news – the overlord’s palace really had not been dropped on it. It also meant that Ithinia was making an effort to be helpful; she had not offered this tapestry to bring the thousands of warlocks home from Aldagmor, presumably because she did not want a horde that size traipsing through her home, but she was willing to use it now to get Hanner and the others back to Ethshar.

But there were still some things about the tapestry that puzzled him. “What are those orange things?” he asked the apprentice. He did not recall anything of the sort being attached when he had been sent through this tapestry all those years ago.

“Hm?” The apprentice glanced at the support rod. “Oh, the Returning Crystals? Yes, well, you see, sir, this tapestry cannot stay here; the Guildmaster needs it back. She’s put a very complex spell on it, combining Pallum’s Returning Crystal, the Spell of Reversal, and the Spell of the Obedient Object. Precisely thirty-five hours after she placed the enchantment, this tapestry will vanish and return to its rightful owner. It took some time for me to bring it here, so I would estimate you have about thirty-two hours remaining.”

“So anyone who isn’t out of here by then will be stranded again?”

The apprentice nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir. That’s exactly right.” He glanced around. “I would suggest that you waste no time. Any delay increases the chances that something will go wrong.”

Hanner decided not to ask what could go wrong.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir,” the apprentice continued, “I will be returning to Ethshar myself. We leave it to you to make sure everyone is out; we will not be sending any further aid. The Guild does not consider anyone who is stranded here after the tapestry vanishes to be our responsibility. Further, if the tapestry is impaired or damaged in any way, that, too, is on your own heads. These things are expensive, and we will not risk another one.”

“I understand,” Hanner said.

The apprentice nodded once more, reached out to touch the tapestry, and was gone. Hanner realized as the youth vanished that he had never even caught the lad’s name.

“Who’s next?” Gerath called, before Hanner could react.

“Where does it go?” someone called.

“What does it matter?” Gerath demanded. “You know it’s safe, or that kid wouldn’t have used it.”

That didn’t necessarily follow, since they had no way of being certain the apprentice had been what he seemed, and that it had been the tapestry, and not some other spell, that made him vanish, but Hanner was not about to say that. Instead he said, “It comes out in a wizard’s house on Lower Street. I’ve seen it before.”

That caused a murmur, but then Gerath repeated, “Who’s next?”

“I am,” Sidor said. He pushed past one of his comrades, stretched out a hand, and disappeared.

That started a rush, but Hanner and Gerath joined efforts to enforce some order, to make sure the tapestry and its appurtenances – like those crystals – were not damaged, and that each traveler had time to step aside, once in Ithinia’s house, before the next approached.

One by one, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, Vond’s hirelings and the former warlocks vanished through the tapestry.

“Where will we go, in Ethshar?” one of the Called asked, standing unmoving before the tapestry.

“We’ll find somewhere for you,” Hanner assured her. “My family is rich and powerful, and I’ll see to it that something is arranged.”

“Go on,” Gerath said, pushing her forward. She still did not reach out, but another shove sent her close enough that one hand brushed the fabric, and she was gone.

“We could let some of them stay,” Hanner said.

Gerath shook his head. “I was sent here to get everyone out, and I’m getting everyone out. If some of them slip back in, that’s not my problem. For now, though, everyone goes.”

“What about Rudhira?” the last of the Called, a middle-aged man Hanner thought might be named Elner, asked.

Gerath frowned. “I’ll make an exception for her. I don’t want to go searching for a crazed throat-cutting murderer; do you?”

“No,” Elner, if that was his name, agreed. He stepped forward, and vanished.

Hanner stared at the tapestry, and the empty patch of floor where Elner had stood, and then turned to look at Gerath.

Crazed throat-cutting murderer?

Technically, Hanner had to admit the description was fairly accurate, but since her attack on Vond had probably saved his life, and quite possibly the lives of hundreds of other people, he did not think of it as “crazed.”

There were enough people back in Ethshar who might look on it that way, though, that perhaps Rudhira would be safer stranded here in the refuge. Rothiel had said no one was planning to charge her with murder, but still, there were the mercenaries, and the various Called warlocks who had hoped Vond might restore their magic; she might find a very unfriendly reception on the other side of the tapestry.

But Hanner thought it should be her choice, not his.

There were only three men left in the village now – Hanner, Gerath, and Marl. Gerath was starting to look impatient; Marl looked uncertain. “Gerath,” Marl said, “I was wondering if…”

“No,” Gerath said, grabbing Marl by the arm. “Go.”

Marl gave Hanner a look, but Hanner did not meet his gaze. Marl shook off Gerath’s grip, then said, “I’m going.” He turned, stepped up to the hanging, and disappeared.

“You’re next,” Gerath said.

Hanner frowned. “Why?” he said.

“Because I said so,” Gerath said.

“I wanted to get the other tapestry and take it back with me, to see if it can be repaired,” Hanner protested.

“So go get it,” Gerath said. “Then get back here.”

“You don’t need to wait,” Hanner said.

“I want to be sure everyone is out of here,” Gerath said.

Hanner started to ask why, what concern it was of his, then thought better of it. “All right,” he said, “but you can do that just as easily from the other side. If I’m not there in a few minutes, you can go back to Warlock House and come back and get me.”

“Or I can wait here.”

“If you want,” Hanner said. “If you aren’t worried about Rudhira popping out of hiding and cutting your throat. She didn’t much like you.”

Gerath stared at him for a moment, then turned up a palm. “Please yourself,” he said. “But if you aren’t there in half an hour, I will come back for you.”

“Of course. I’ll just go get the tapestry, then.”

“Whatever you like.” Gerath watched as Hanner headed for the door, but had marched into the tapestry before Hanner had gone a single step past the threshold.

Out in the street Hanner paused. He looked around, then called, “Rudhira?”

No one answered. Hanner shook his head in disappointment, then ambled across to the house where the ruined tapestry hung.

He brushed it, just to be sure, before taking it down, but it did not transport him anywhere; it was mere lifeless fabric, with a long gash in it.

He had it rolled up and slung on his shoulder, and was halfway back to the other house, when Rudhira stepped around a corner.

“Hello, Hanner,” she said.

He stopped in his tracks, and smiled. “Rudhira,” he said. “It’s good to see you! I was a little worried.”

“You shouldn’t have been,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I know, but I’m a worrier.” He hesitated, then said, “Thank you. You probably saved my life.”

“That was the idea,” she answered. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“You didn’t have to -” Hanner began.

“Yes, I did!” Rudhira interrupted. “I had to! I couldn’t let him hurt you, Hanner. You’re too good a person for that. You…I care too much for you to let that happen! When I saw that sword at your throat, I had to.”

“You…” Hanner blinked, overwhelmed by her words. At last he managed, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I suppose you couldn’t just wound him…” He let his sentence trail off unfinished; he knew the answer even before Rudhira spoke.

“If I left him alive, he would have sent his men after both of us,” she said.

“I know,” Hanner admitted.

“It’s not as if I had never killed a man before.”

“I know that, too.”

For a moment they stared silently at one another. Then Rudhira said, “So you are going back?”

For a few seconds Hanner hesitated; then he nodded. “I want to see my children,” he said. “They haven’t seen me for seventeen years, and I want to see how they’ve grown up, and be sure they’re happy. I want to see my sisters. I want to make sure the tapestry that brings people here is somewhere safe. I want to help clean up Vond’s mess.”

“It isn’t your mess.”

“Still, I want to help. I take it you intend to stay here? The wizards tell me no one’s planning to charge you with anything, that the overlord’s laws don’t apply here, so you could come back with me.”

She shook her head. “I’m better off here. I like it here.”

Hanner looked up at the unmoving sun. “I like it here, too. I think I might eventually miss the moons and stars, though.”

“You don’t have to come back. You certainly don’t have to stay.”

“If I come back, I do have to stay – that new tapestry is going to disappear soon.”

“Is it?”

Hanner nodded. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said. “If you stay here, you’ll be trapped.”

The little redhead looked around thoughtfully at the deserted village, then nodded. “That’s fine,” she said.

Hanner had hoped she would reconsider; he did not want to leave her here. It was not, he realized, that he was concerned for her safety; it was that he would miss her. Her outburst proclaiming her concern for him had caught him by surprise, but now that it had sunk in he found himself warmed by the thought. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

He hefted the damaged tapestry. “I’m going to see about getting this thing fixed,” he said. “Or maybe commission another one, if I can ever afford it. I’ll bring it back here. Then you can come and go as you please.”

“So can you,” Rudhira pointed out.

“That’s true.”

There was another moment of silent contemplation; then Hanner said, “I’ll come back, whether I have it fixed or not. Eventually. I do want to see my family, all of it, and make sure everything is as right as I can make it. It may be months, maybe even a year or two, but I’ll be back.”

She looked up at him. “I’ll be waiting,” she said. Then she smiled, and he dropped the tapestry so he could lean down to kiss her.

A few minutes later, uncomfortably aware that Gerath was probably getting impatient, Hanner pulled away from her. He smiled at her, then hoisted the damaged tapestry back to his shoulder, and trudged into the room where the new, functioning tapestry waited. He reached out toward the image of that sunny, whitewashed room. Just before his fingers touched it, he repeated, “I’ll come back.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Rudhira answered again, from the open door.

In the end it was eight months before he could return, but return he did.

And she was waiting.