The Unwelcome Warlock

Chapter Eight

Five members of the Imperial Council sat around the table, listening to Lord Sterren explain the situation as best he could. Not all of them found the regent’s explanations entirely convincing.

“I thought warlocks never came back from the Calling,” Lady Kalira said. “In fact, I thought you told me that.”

“They never have before,” Sterren said. “But apparently everything changed last night, just as it did on the Night of Madness, but in reverse.”

“That’s really the Great Vond?” Lord Goluz asked. He was the youngest member of the Council, and had never met Vond before. He had been a mere merchant’s apprentice when the Empire was created.

“It’s really Vond,” Sterren replied.

“Can he hear us in here?” Lady Arris asked.

“I don’t think so,” Sterren said. “Warlocks do have enhanced senses, but I don’t think hearing is one of them.”

“What does it matter if he can hear us?” Prince Ferral asked. “We aren’t saying anything terrible. Even if we were, it’s not as if we could do anything to stop him from doing whatever he pleases.”

“I wasn’t planning to say anything treasonous,” Arris replied nervously. “I just wanted to know.”

“Where is he now, do you think?” Goluz asked.

“He was talking to some of those people he brought with him,” Lady Kalira said.

“Out in the plaza,” Sterren confirmed.

“I wish Algarven was here,” Goluz muttered.

Sterren sympathized; Algarven was one of the steadiest, most sensible voices on the Council. Unfortunately, he was off inspecting the ports, to help the Council decide whether to expand the facilities in Quonshar, or put more resources into the harbor in Akalla of the Diamond, or whether there was a third option worth considering. Quonshar was closest to the empire’s border, and to Ethshar, while Akalla was closest to the imperial capital of Semma. The best natural port, though, was probably Kalshar, which lay between the others.

“But he isn’t here,” Sterren said. “Neither is Lady Tanna. There are just the six of us gathered here.”

The councillors exchanged glances.

“Why are we meeting, really?” Ferral asked. “The Emperor is back, he’s reclaimed his position, and we can’t do anything but accept it and go on administering the empire.”

“That’s probably true,” Sterren admitted. “I thought it might be a good idea to make sure we all understood the situation, that’s all. You seem to have a solid grasp of the realities, your Highness, but perhaps not everyone here was as quick to realize our position.”

“I wasn’t,” Goluz proclaimed.

“Vond is probably going to want to talk to us at some point, to hear what we’ve been doing since he left,” Sterren continued. “I didn’t want anyone to be caught off-guard. We need to answer his questions honestly; don’t try to lie about anything.” He hesitated, then added, “Except, of course, your loyalty to him. Whether you really are loyal or not is irrelevant; never give him any reason to doubt you. Let him think you’re an incompetent and he’ll probably just accept it, but say even a word of defiance and he might squash you.”

Lady Kalira glanced in the direction of where poor Ildirin had been smashed against a wall fifteen years before, and shuddered. Ildirin had not been defiant. He had not even been seriously incompetent; merely unlucky.

“If any of you do come up with any schemes to overthrow the emperor, I would strongly suggest you don’t tell the rest of us,” Sterren said. “If you succeed, then I’m sure we’ll accept it, but I do not want to see this entire council destroyed if a plot goes wrong and we’re all implicated. That would be very bad for the empire, as well as for us.”

This time it was not just Kalira who shuddered.

“Please notice, though, that I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t try to remove Vond,” Sterren said.

“You think seven plots are more likely to result in one that succeeds than a single big conspiracy is,” Ferral said.

“I am not going to comment on that,” Sterren said, nodding.

“You don’t think multiple conspiracies might get in each other’s way?” Kalira asked.

Sterren turned up an empty palm. “Who knows?”

“The Wizards’ Guild banned warlocks from the empire,” Lady Arris said.

“They did,” Sterren agreed. “I expect they will attempt to enforce that eventually, but it may take some time, and I don’t know how effective they’ll be.”

“Or how much damage they’ll do in the process,” Ferral said. “The stories about that lunatic magician calling herself Empress Tabaea in Ethshar of the Sands aren’t encouraging.”

“The Cult of Demerchan might be interested to know Vond is back,” Kalira suggested.

“They might be,” Sterren agreed.

“Fellow councillors,” Goluz said, glancing around, “I am concerned by what I am hearing here. Don’t any of you think Vond’s return might be a good thing? After all, he built this palace in a matter of days, and built roads, and used his magic in a dozen beneficial ways.”

Kalira and Sterren exchanged glances. “He may do more useful things,” Sterren acknowledged. “I don’t think he actually wants to hurt anyone. His rule may do more good than harm. But he isn’t strong on self-control, and he has the power to do a huge amount of damage very quickly. I don’t think any of us are about to assassinate him tonight, by any means; I think most of us will want to wait and see how matters develop. But if they develop badly, it would not hurt to have a few ideas of how to improve the situation.”

“As Lady Arris said,” Kalira added, “the Wizards’ Guild banned warlocks from the empire. I do not like the idea of being caught in a battle between Vond and the Guild.”

“But if that battle happens, shouldn’t we side with Vond, rather than the Guild?” Goluz asked. “He’s our emperor!”

Sterren grimaced. “You’re free to decide for yourself,” he said, “but I don’t ever want to be on the side fighting the Wizards’ Guild.”

“If I do decide to assassinate the emperor,” Lord Vorash said, speaking for the first time, “I will be careful not to mention it to you, Lord Goluz.”

That provoked nervous laughter for a few of the councillors – though not, Sterren noticed, from Lord Goluz.

“I think we’ve said quite enough,” Prince Ferral announced, pushing back his chair. “I’m going to go attend to my own business now. If the emperor wishes to speak to me, I will be at his disposal.”

Lady Arris rose as well, and then the others, and a moment later Sterren was alone in the room.

He sat for a moment, thinking.

Maybe Lord Goluz was right. Maybe having the only warlock in the World as their ruler would be a good thing. Maybe he would build roads and dredge harbors and heal the sick. Certainly, he would enforce the peace within the empire.

But almost the first thing he had said upon returning was that he intended to conquer a neighboring kingdom. He had asked after his harem. He had admitted abandoning thousands of former warlocks in the wilderness of Aldagmor, and made no mention of doing anything to help them.

Those weren’t the words of a thoughtful and effective ruler.

Sterren sighed, and got to his feet.

He found Lar Samber’s son waiting for him outside the council chamber door. The man was showing his age; his hair was white, and he moved stiffly as he rose to greet his employer. His weight had varied over the years, and at the moment he was stout, verging on fat. His weight seemed to be slowing him down, where it never had before. Sterren felt a twinge of guilt at summoning him; Lar had been more or less retired for the past few years.

“Regent,” Lar said in Ethsharitic. “You sent for me.”

“I’m not a regent anymore,” Sterren said in Semmat. Ethsharitic was the official language of the empire, while Semmat was the local tongue; Sterren knew both well. Vond did not; he was only fluent in Ethsharitic. The council meeting had been conducted entirely in Ethsharitic, since not all the councillors spoke Semmat, but now Sterren switched to the language the emperor did not understand. “Vond has reclaimed his throne. I suppose I might be chancellor again, though.”

“I stand corrected,” Lar said in Semmat. “You did send for me, though.”

Sterren sighed again, and nodded. “I did,” he said. “As I’m sure you know, Vond is back. He says the Calling has stopped, and he’s the only warlock left.”

“Is that what happened? There were rumors.”

Sterren smiled wryly. He hadn’t heard any rumors yet, but of course Lar had. Retired or not, he had spent most of his adult life as a spy, and he still seemed to know everything that went on anywhere in Semma. “Yes,” he said. “That does appear to be the case.”

“That’s an interesting situation,” Lar remarked.

“Indeed. I’d like to know what Guildmaster Ithinia thinks of it,” Sterren replied.

“Ithinia? If I may, my lord, why her, in particular?”

“Because I don’t know of a wizard who stands higher in the Guild than she does – I’m sure there are some, but the Guild does not choose to identify them to outsiders. Besides, Ithinia did seem to take quite an interest in imperial affairs when she visited us twelve years ago.”

“Ah,” Lar said.

“I think she should also be informed that apparently there are thousands of former warlocks who have been turned loose in Aldagmor, and may be stranded there.”

“Are there?” Lar asked, raising an eyebrow.

“So I’m told.”

“I’ll see that the news reaches her,” Lar said. “Though by the time I can get word to her, she may well already know all about it.”

“I know, but I think we should make the gesture.”

Lar nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m also curious about whether the Sisterhood has an opinion on Vond’s return.”

Lar nodded. “Anyone else?”

“The Brotherhood, while we’re at it. The Council of Warlocks, if it still exists. The three overlords of the Hegemony. The Cult of Demerchan. Anyone you can think of.”

“Oh – is that how it stands?”

“I’m afraid so. But Ithinia first, I think.”

Lar bowed stiffly. “As you say.”

“Leave as soon as you can.”

“Yes, my lord.” He turned, and walked away, toward the nearest door out of the palace. He didn’t run, as if he were in a hurry, or march, like a man obeying orders, or creep, as if he didn’t want to be seen; he simply walked, like someone who was headed somewhere but wasn’t in a great rush. No one would give him a second glance.

Sterren watched in admiration for a second or two, then hurried down the corridor to the entry hall. Dozens of people were there, milling about or talking in small groups; about half of them were strangers, mostly dressed in black, from the group Vond had brought back with him from Aldagmor. The others were mostly palace staff and imperial officials of one sort or another, with a few confused-looking guards mixed in.

Sterren spotted one of the Council’s messengers and beckoned her aside. She glanced about, then joined him by the wall.

“Yes, my lord?” she asked in Ethsharitic.

“Where’s the emperor?” he asked in Semmat.

She replied in the same tongue, “He and the chamberlain are upstairs, seeing to the accommodations. His old apartments were long ago put to other uses.”

“I know,” Sterren said. “I gave the orders for that myself. So he’s inspecting the palace?”

She nodded.

“Has he said anything about the people he brought with him?” Sterren jerked his head toward a clump of black-clad strangers.

“We are to treat them as honored guests.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m just a messenger, my lord.”

“Thank you.” Sterren patted her on the shoulder, then turned and smiled at one of the strangers.

He smiled warily back, and Sterren strode over to him.

“Welcome to the Vondish Empire!” Sterren said in Ethsharitic, raising a hand in greeting. “I am Lord Sterren.”

“My name is Korl of Cliffgate,” the stranger replied, in an accent that seemed to indicate an origin in Ethshar of the Rocks.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Sterren said. “I understand you are a warlock?”

“Well, I was,” Korl said.

“Yes, I understand the power you drew upon is gone.”

Korl shuddered. “Yes,” he said.

Sterren got the very definite impression that Korl did not care to discuss whatever it was that had departed Aldagmor, and he had no problem with that; he was more interested in matters closer to home. “How did you come to know the emperor?” he asked.

“I don’t know him,” Korl replied. “I mean, I’d heard of him – I was Called a few years after he conquered all those…well, after he conquered here, I guess. But I never met him.”

“Oh? Then if you don’t mind my asking, how do you come to be here?”

“Well, we’d just been freed, and the…the Source had left, and Vond flew up and called for volunteers to come with him, and I raised my hands because I was cold and scared and we were stranded out there in the wilderness at night, with no food or water or magic, and he said he would bring us here and give us important positions. It seemed better than starving or freezing in Aldagmor, or being there if that thing came back.”

“I see,” Sterren said. “Very sensible.”

“Maybe,” Korl said, looking around uneasily. “I’m not sure. No one here was expecting us, and we haven’t gotten any food yet, though they did find us wine and water. No one seems to know where we’re to sleep, or what’s to become of us. Vond hasn’t said what he wants us for. And I have this horrible headache, as if my skull were buzzing. I’d think it was an after-effect of losing my magic, but it didn’t feel like that in Aldagmor.”

“Ah, yes,” Sterren said. “I’ve heard of that. It’s a local effect. It’s said that that was why there were no warlocks here until Vond came – the headaches. They never stop; they just get worse and worse.”

“Really?” Korl looked around. “But then how does Vond stand it? Why does he still have magic at all?”

Sterren feigned surprise. “He hasn’t told you?”

“No. I thought that maybe he would teach the rest of us how we could be warlocks again, but he hasn’t said a word about it.”

“Ah, I suppose he wants to keep the secret for himself,” Sterren said. “As it happens, he was working for me when he found it – that’s why he kept me around, and how I became a lord here. I don’t suppose there are a hundred people in the empire who know about it.”

“What secret?”

Sterren looked around, as if to be sure no one else was listening, then leaned forward. “The headaches were making him utterly miserable, you see, and finally he said something very foolish – he said he would give his soul to make them stop. And apparently he was in the wrong place, or phrased something just right, because a demon heard him, and appeared, and made a bargain with him – in exchange for his soul, Vond would be given enough magical power to shut out the headaches.”

“A demon?”

Sterren nodded. “I can’t say its name; I don’t want to attract its attention.”

“I thought demons wouldn’t touch warlocks.”

That was news to Sterren, but he didn’t let that slow him down. “This one would,” it said. “Maybe it was because we’re so far from Aldagmor here that Vond barely was a warlock anymore.”

Korl did not seem to think much of that theory. “Go on.”

“The deal didn’t work out quite the way either of them expected,” Sterren said. “Apparently it takes a lot of power to shut out the headaches, so much so that Vond was able to use it to build this empire. And Vond thought that having his soul promised to the demon would mean that the Calling couldn’t get him, but it didn’t work out that way. He was Called anyway.” Sterren glanced around. “You know, I hate to suggest it of my own liege lord, but I wonder whether he might have brought you people here to see if he could swap your souls to the demon in place of his own, now that he’s safe from the Calling.”

Korl threw an uneasy glance over his shoulder. “So he’s not a warlock any more? He’s a demonologist? All his magic is demonic?”

“What else could it be? There isn’t any more warlockry, and you know warlocks can’t be wizards or theurgists, and a witch would never have the sort of power he does. I mean, he’s wearing a black robe – not exactly hiding it, is he?”

Korl frowned. “I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe it was another kind of warlockry.”

Sterren snorted. “Really, how likely is that? Isn’t it strange enough having one of those things arrive on the Night of Madness and snatch away thousands of people, and now you’re suggesting there was a second one that only affected one person? And that one person just happened to already be an Aldagmor warlock?”

“Well, I…” Korl frowned. “That does sound unlikely.”

“It’s a demon. A big one. Sometimes you can glimpse it in the desert east of here, a big shadow with glowing eyes.”

Korl bit his lower lip so that his beard bristled.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to put up with the headaches,” Sterren said. “At least, if you value your soul.”

“What causes the headaches, though?”

Sterren turned up an empty palm. “Who knows? An old curse, maybe? A wizard’s spell gone wrong? Some left-over magic from the Great War? Or maybe it’s the demon itself, trying to lure victims.”

Korl’s eyes shifted nervously.

“So will you be staying here in the capital, do you think, or might this position the emperor promised you be somewhere else?”

“I don’t know,” Korl said. “I don’t know much about the Vondish Empire.”

“Oh, well, there are eighteen provinces,” Sterren said. “Eight of them lie along the South Coast, and the rest are inland. We’re in Semma, the capital; you landed in Imperial Plaza, the heart of New Semma, and across the valley is the Old Town, where the regent’s castle is. We speak twenty different languages in the empire, I’m afraid, but Ethsharitic is the official imperial tongue.” He smiled. “There are eighteen provinces now, but his Imperial Majesty has already said that he wants to add a nineteenth, Lumeth of the Towers.”

“Oh? Where is that?”

“A few leagues northwest of here, in the foothills of the central mountains. Vond never conquered it in his first reign because it was under the protection of the Wizards’ Guild, but apparently he feels that he’s now powerful enough to defy them.”

Korl, already a little pale, went white. “The Wizards’ Guild?”

“I’m afraid so – but I’m sure they’ll be too busy elsewhere to involve themselves.”

“Of course.”

Sterren frowned. “You don’t look well; the headaches must be getting to you. Should I see if I can find a witch? Vond never found their healing very useful, but it might be better than nothing.”

“No, that’s…that’s…I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Korl turned away.

Sterren let him go, then stepped back to the wall and found the messenger still there.

“Did you hear that?” he asked her in Semmat.

“No, my lord.”

He gave her a glance, unsure whether to believe her, but her face did not give much away.

“I think some of our guests may be departing the capital soon,” he said. “Perhaps the empire itself.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I think we should accommodate them,” he said. “Are you available to carry a message?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Then I want you to head for the coast at once, and visit all the eight ports, from Akalla to Quonshar, and tell the harbor masters that any former warlock who wishes to leave the empire is to be provided with free passage to Ethshar of the Spices as quickly as possible. I will pay any expenses out of my own funds; invoices can be sent to the castle, and will be given the very highest priority.”

“Free passage for all former warlocks, from any port in the empire?”

“Exactly. Paid by the Regent’s exchequer. And your own fee, as well – I believe two rounds of silver would cover it?”

She blinked. “Very generously, my lord.”

“If you reach all eight ports before the first warlocks arrive, you’ll get three rounds. Now go.”

“Yes, my lord!” She turned and hurried away.

Sterren watched her go, then turned to see Korl whispering intensely to three other members of Vond’s new entourage.

Sterren didn’t know whether Vond had any intention of teaching other warlocks to use the same source he did; quite possibly the emperor would prefer keeping the power to himself over sharing it. Still, if some of these people were getting headaches, they might eventually tap into the Lumeth-based power on their own, just as Vond had. One power-mad warlock was bad enough; Sterren considered anything that would scare the others away before they managed the transition to be a good thing.

Now, if only he could find a way to restrain Vond himself!