“It seems we need a new Minister of the Port,” she said, “and undoubtedly there are other posts to be filled, as well, as I understand many of the officials of the city chose to depart with old Ederd. Fortunately, I brought some people to fill these vacated positions.” She waved at the motley group that had followed her from Grandgate; some were still in their own ragged clothing, while others had plundered the palace and put on newer, cleaner, and better domes. Some were dressed splendidly, others ineptly; the result was a far more mixed group than the original rags had produced, and a far more mixed group than the more uniform and sedate crowd left from the overlord’s court.
“Now, if you’ll come forward, one at a time, and tell me who you are,” Tabaea said, “we’ll see if we can’t put together a better government than this city has ever seen before!”
CHAPTER 29
At first glance, Harbor Street appeared unchanged—but upon a closer look, Sarai noticed differences. Windows were broken, buildings blackened by smoke, and walls chipped by blades and flying debris. Dark stains could still be seen in the dirt. And several businesses, perhaps the majority, were closed, although it was full daylight.
At least there weren’t any bodies or other remains; someone had cleaned up after the fighting, clearing away the dead and wounded, dropped weapons, broken glass, and the rest.
Even so, the journey impressed upon Sarai that Tabaea had done real damage to Ethshar of the Sands. She arrived at the Guildhouse in a very somber and thoughtful mood indeed.
Someone she didn’t know opened the door to her knock, and showed the three of them, Sarai and Kelder and Alorria, into the parlor. Alorria inquired after Tobas, and was promptly led away; Kelder and Sarai waited in uncomfortable silence for a second or two before Mereth, rumpled and worried, came to welcome them.
“How many died?” Sarai asked Mereth, after only the most perfunctory greetings.
“I don’t know,” Mereth said. “I don’t think anyone’s counted. At least, no one here; I suppose Lord Torrut knows.”
“Where is Lord Torrut, then?”
Mereth shrugged. “I don’t know, Lady Sarai. In hiding somewhere, probably—or perhaps he’s holed up in the barracks towers; so far, almost all of the city guard has remained loyal to him.”
Lady Sarai looked around at the parlor, which had continued undisturbed by Serem’s murder, by the house’s usurpation by the Wizards’ Guild, by the overthrow of the city government. The animated plant still fanned the air endlessly.
She shooed away a spriggan and then settled slowly onto a divan embroidered with pink and green flowers.
“Is that wise?” she asked.
Mereth blinked, puzzled. “Is what wise?”
“I take it that Lord Torrut is still resisting,” Sarai said, “even though Tabaea’s in the palace and the overlord has fled.”
“Well, he isn’t actually fighting anymore,” Mereth said, seating herself in a nearby armchair, “but I’m sure he isn’t taking orders from her.”
“And I wonder if that’s wise,” Sarai said. “Maybe we should just let her govern and not damage the city further.”
“But she’s a murderer!” Mereth protested, “and a thief, a burglar! And she’s... wizards aren’t allowed in government.”
“Is she a wizard?” Sarai asked. “She’s not a member of the Guild.”
“She’s a magician, and she’s something like a wizard, and the Guild doesn’t want any magicians interfering in politics. It’s dangerous. It’s a bad precedent.”
“Then perhaps it’s the job of the Wizards’ Guild to remove her,” Lady Sarai said. “I don’t see any reason to throw away more lives trying to depose her. And whether we like it or not, at the moment she is the ruler of Ethshar of the Sands, and she can’t rule without the city guard—the guard is what gives the government authority, and no one can run the city without it. I think perhaps Lord Torrut should reconsider.”
“I don’t,” Mereth said. “Maybe if she finds out that she can’t run the city she’ll pack up and leave.”
“Somehow, I doubt she’ll do that,” Sarai replied. “And who’s to say that she can’t be a good ruler? It’s not as if Ederd was chosen by the gods, or worked his way up to be overlord; he just happened to be born right.”
“Isn’t that enough?” Mereth asked, shocked. “He’s Anaran’s heir!”
“Anaran was a fine general, but does that mean all his descendants are going to be natural rulers?” Sarai said. “They’ve ruled Ethshar of the Sands for seven generations now; doesn’t that mean that less than one part in a hundred of Ederd’s blood comes from Anaran?”
“Oh, but they’ve intermarried with the families of the other overlords, and bred back in...” “So what?”
“Lady Sarai,” Kelder interrupted, “at least Anaran’s descendants did not take their thrones by force, or murder innocents in their beds.”
“That’s true,” Sarai admitted. “But I still don’t like it. I don’t want anyone else to be killed.”
“None of us do,” Mereth said. “Or at least, we don’t want anyone other than Tabaea to be killed.”
“Mereth?” The voice came from the archway opening into the central hall; Sarai and Kelder turned to find Lirrin, Serein’s former apprentice, standing there.
“You’re needed downstairs,” Lirrin said. “What’s happening downstairs?” Sarai asked. She blinked; was there a downstairs? She hadn’t noticed that when she visited the house in the course of her investigation.
“Guild business,” Lirrin said apologetically. Mereth rose, gathering her skirts, then looked back at Sarai. “Oh.” Sarai glanced at Kelder, who shrugged. “I’m no more a wizard than you,” he said. “We can wait here together and pass the time.”
“I’m sorry, Lady Sarai,” Mereth said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She and Lirrin vanished down the hallway.
That left Kelder and Sarai alone in the parlor; for a moment they sat in awkward silence.
“Do you still have all those talismans and trinkets of yours?” Sarai asked at last.
“Of course,” he said, gesturing at his pack. “Do you think they could tell you anything more about Tabaea that might be useful in deposing her? She was in this house once, after all.”
“Oh, I doubt it,” Kelder said. “There will be traces, but what they can tell us will be limited. If you like, I can see what there is to see.” “I’d be very interested.”
Kelder bobbed his head in a semblance of a bow. “Then I’ll try,” he said. He opened his pack and began rummaging through it.
A moment later he emerged holding a thin silver box set with square-cut gems. “A denekin allasir,” he explained, tapping an uneven rhythm upon it.
“What’s that mean?” Lady Sarai asked.
“I haven’t any idea,” Kelder admitted. “It’s just what it’s called.”
“What does it do?”
Kelder proudly explained, “It reads traces a person has left— flakes of skin, bits of hair, even the air he or she breathed—and then displays for me a pattern of lights, in this row of jewels here, that I can interpret to tell me about that person. What I can see will vary; sometimes it’s a great deal, sometimes it’s nothing at all.”
Lady Sarai looked at the row of jewels Kelder pointed to. She could see odd little curls of light, glowing deep within the stones, but they made no pattern that she could see. “And what does it tell you about Tabaea?” she asked.
“Well, this is the device that gave me the description I gave you,” Kelder said. “I don’t suppose it will find any trace of her in here, though; the murder was upstairs, and I assume Tabaea came in through the bedroom window.”
“Did she?”
Kelder hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said. “Shall we find out?”
