He had gone scarcely a dozen steps when he paused and considered.
Did he really have to go back to the castle at all? Couldn’t he just turn and head overland to Akalla, back home to Ethshar? After all, if Vond had conquered Semma, then presumably he was no longer the hereditary warlord, and King Phenvel no longer had any authority over him, or anybody else, for that matter.
It occurred to him for the very first time that royal power and authority were simply a matter of belief, of common consent to an arrangement. There was nothing inherent in Phenvel of Semma that gave him the power of life and death over his subjects; that power existed only because the people of Semma believed it existed. His castle guards and his courtiers obeyed him because they believed he was the rightful ruler of the land, and others obeyed because those guards and courtiers enforced his wishes.
If the guards ever decided that Phenvel was just a crazy old man, then he would be just a crazy old man.
Vond’s power, on the other hand, was quite real. He might not have any hereditary title or special cachet of authority, but he could easily make anyone obey him by using his warlockry. He needed no guards or courtiers. When he said that he had already conquered Semma, Sterren could accept that, who could defy him?
And wasn’t that the true definition of power? Vond could do anything he pleased, and no one could prevent it. Phenvel could do what he pleased only so long as people believed in his authority as king.
Vond’s power seemed much more substantial.
This, Sterren guessed, would soon make the warlock’s conquest an accepted fact. Phenvel had offended Vond, and now Vond was making plain just who really held power in Semma. Surely, Phenvel’s power would collapse quickly once it became obvious that he could do nothing against Vond. His authority would be destroyed, and the whole elaborate structure of hereditary nobility would undoubtedly collapse with it.
Sterren would no longer be warlord.
He could just turn, now, and go home.
But on the other hand, it was a long trip, and he was in no particular hurry. The situation in Semma had gotten very interesting, and he was curious about how it would turn out.
He was interested, also, in what might befall some of the people in the area.
He walked on, toward the castle.
The gatekeeper let him in without discussion, and he headed directly for the royal apartments.
He was admitted immediately. Queen Ashassa and the two younger princesses had joined the king; Princess Lura grinned at him, and even Princess Shirrin managed a tentative smile.
The instant Sterren had completed his formal bow King Phenvel demanded, “Well? What’s he doing out there?”
“He says he’s making a castle, your Majesty,” Sterren replied. He did not know the Semmat for “palace,” and was unsure what other verb might be most suitable for “building.”
“Making a castle?” Queen Ashassa asked, puzzled. “Yes, your Majesty,” Sterren said.
“What do you mean, making a castle?” the king demanded.
“I mean, your Majesty, that he is taking stones, very large stones, and putting them together into a... a castle. I don’t know the right words to make it clearer.”
“A real castle, or just an image of some kind, a model?”
“A real castle, your Majesty. He says he will live in it.”
“That’s ridiculous. This is Semma Castle, and I am king! No one else may build a castle in my realm!” Sterren did not waste time answering that. “Go tell him to stop!” the king demanded.
Sterren hesitated. “I can tell him,” he said. “But he won’t stop.”
“Well, make him stop! This is all your fault, after all; you’re the one who brought all these infernal magicians here! We’ve never needed a lot of fancy magicians in Semma, and we got along just fine until you brought this whatever-it-is who’s not a wizard here!”
“Your Majesty, your army was... the enemy had at least three men to each one of yours. Magic was...”
“Oh, stop arguing! You go tell him to stop what he’s doing and put everything back the way it was!”
“Your Majesty-”
“Go! Do it!”
Sterren went.
He nodded politely to the man at the gate and followed the clear path through the ruined village once again.
Vond saw him coming.
“Oh, hello,” he said, “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
Sterren shrugged as he looked over the half-built crypts. “The king sent me,” he said. He strolled out onto one of the stone slabs.
“Oh?” Vond said.
“Yes. He wants you to stop what you’re doing and put everything back the way it was.”
“I daresay he does.”
“He ordered me to come tell you to stop.”
Vond nodded. “Go ahead, then.”
“In the name of Phenvel, King of Semma, stop building your palace and put everything back the way it was!”
“No. You can go back and give him that answer. Was there anything else?”
“Not from him. I was wondering, though, don’t you think it might get rather lonely, out here in this palace?” He waved at the cellars, which now covered a wide area around the “courtyard” and had a partially completed outer wall around most of two sides.
Vond looked down at his elaborate stone box.
“Maybe at first,” he admitted. “A little. But I expect other warlocks will come along, once word gets out about the new source of power here.”
“You expect word to get out?”
Vond looked momentarily disconcerted for the first time since he drove off the invading armies.
“Of course,” he said, “but if it doesn’t, I’ll send messengers back to Ethshar. You know, I hadn’t thought about that, we’re really way out here in the middle of nowhere, aren’t we?”
Sterren nodded. “If you go up about a hundred feet and look over that way,” he said, pointing south, “you ought to be able to see the edge of the World.”
Vond sighed. “I’ve always lived in Ethshar, back in the middle of things, where you can’t keep a secret if you try. I hadn’t thought about how the news would spread; I just took it for granted.”
“I don’t think you can, here.”
“Well, I’ll send messengers. I expect people will notice when I start building an empire, in any case.”
“Oh,” Sterren asked, “are you planning to build an empire?”
“Oh, I think so,” Vond said. “Isn’t it sort of traditional, for conquerors? Besides, Semma is so tiny! If I want to put together a decent harem I need more to choose from, for one thing!”
“What did you have in mind?” Sterren asked cautiously.
“Well, to start,” Vond said, “I was planning to conquer Ophkar and Ksinallion; that should be easy enough, since I’ve already routed their armies. After that, I thought I’d see how far I could go before I start to hear that whisper out of Aldagmor again. I’m not stupid, Sterren; I won’t be sailing off to Ethshar where the nightmares will get me. Even so, I ought to be able to put together half a dozen of these silly little kingdoms, don’t you think?”
Sterren had to concede that the warlock probably could, indeed, rule everything in the area. After all, he had lost contact with Aldagmor and started getting his headaches back in Akalla, which meant that Akalla, Skaia, Ophkar, and Semma would almost certainly be well within his grasp, and probably Ksinallion and several other kingdoms as well.
Not that any of those kingdoms amounted to much of anything.
“And you don’t think you’ll get lonely, or bored?” he asked.
“Why should I?” Vond snapped. “I can have as many people around as I want, just by ordering it! And beautiful women, there must be some, even here. Men in power always attract beautiful women.”
“But they’ll all be scared of you. You won’t have anyone you can talk to just casually, as an equal, or even
