He tried to concentrate on what he should do about the warlocks, especially the prisoners, but he found his thoughts straying to wondering just why Uncle Faran had so big and luxurious a house, and why he had kept it secret at all-he wasn’t married, after all, so taking a variety of lovers was no great offense against morals or custom. Eleven bedrooms, not counting Bern ’s! Four stories...
And what was on the top two floors? Hanner remembered that Bern had said no one but Faran was permitted above the second. What did Faran have up there?
It was none of his business, he told himself, and antagonizing his uncle by investigating wasn’t going to do anyone any good. He forced his attention back to the warlocks.
Werethey magicians? Were they, perhaps, truly war-locked witches, the magic bestowed upon them against their will? If so, had Rudhira’s free use of her powers the night before killed witches somewhere?
How did the dreams fit in? And the screaming?
He remembered the night before, when he had been walking on Newmarket Street after seeing Mavi home...
Was Mavi all right? Had she been caught up in the night’s insanity? He would need to check on that at the first opportunity.
In fact, he thought, perhaps he should go right now...
But there were the prisoners, all of them with dangerous magical abilities, and he couldn’t very well leave them in his uncle’s house guarded only by a beggar, a streetwalker, a farmboy, and the housekeeper.
For that matter, he couldn’t very well leave the beggar, the streetwalker, and the farmboy unattended here. He didn’t know them well enough to trust them alone with so many valuable furnishings.
He would have to send Alris or Nerra to check on Mavi. That would be less awkward in any case.
He hoped she was all right. He remembered how he had stumbled for no reason just as the screaming began; if she had been similarly affected while climbing stairs she might have fallen... And why had he stumbled?
He frowned, and started over.
What should he do, if anything, about the warlocks?
Chapter Fourteen
Kennan had finally given up and gone home after all the lights in the mansion had gone out, but this was not, he swore, over.
Sanda had fallen asleep waiting in a chair by the front door; he left her there and went up to his own bed, where he slept uneasily for a few hours.
When he awoke he checked to make sure that Aken had not returned, and that Sanda and the children were still safe; he ate a hasty breakfast of bread and cheese, then set out for the Palace.
Once again he was refused admission.
He stood staring across the canal at the gleaming marble walls, wondering what was happening in there.
As he did, Lord Azrad slumped in his seat and glowered unhappily at his brother Clurim. He then turned his gaze to the others in the lesser audience chamber.
“Where’s Lord Faran?” he demanded.
“Asleep, I believe,” Captain Vengar reported. “He was up most of the night, after all.”
“So was I, confound it, andI’m here!”
Vengar hesitated, then said, “My lord, you retired perhaps an hour ortwo after midnight. Lord Faran was still receiving reports when the eastern sky was light. I think he finally returned to his apartments just as the sun rose.” “He won’t be much use to you if he’s half-asleep,” Lord Clurim remarked.
“I don’t think he’s much use in any case,” Azrad the Younger muttered. His sister Imra slapped his arm at that.
The overlord had gathered his entire available family together for this morning conference-his three brothers and both his children. His four surviving sisters had all long since been married off-ZarrГ©a, the youngest, to Ederd IV, overlord of Ethshar of the Sands, and the other three to various kings and barons elsewhere— and of course his wife, Thera of Alorria, and his second eldest sister, Lura, had both been dead for years.
Captain Vengar, present commander of the contingent of the city guard inside the Palace, was also present-and Azrad had wanted Lord Faran there as well.
Most of his other advisors and the other important lords of Ethshar did not live in the Palace, but in their own mansions in the New City, so they could not attend the meeting-Azrad did not trust them not to bring in whatever contagion had spread madness and magic through the city. Lord Faran, though, was in the Palace, and had spoken to the overlord briefly during the night; it was very annoying that he was not here.
Azrad decided he would have to make the best of it. He looked at his brothers.
“Do any of you have the slightest idea what’s going on out there?”
Lord Karannin and Lord Ildirin exchanged glances.
“No more than you do,” Clurim said. “There’s some sort of wild magic that got loose last night, and some people ran wild with it, and things have quieted down now, but the magic is still loose.”
“I knowthat,” Azrad shouted. “Do you know anything more?”
“I’m afraid not,” Clurim said.
“All we know is what we hear from the messengers,” Karannin said.
“Since you won’t let anyone in,” Ildirin added.
“None of my regular magicians were in the Palace last night,” Karannin said. “I’d let old Tarissa visit her granddaughter. I haven’t been able to talk to any of them.”
“You sent messages, didn’t you?” Azrad asked.
“Yes, but I haven’t gotten any useful answers yet. The only reply I’ve received so far was from Orodrin of the Scarred Hand, that demonologist you don’t like. He said he doesn’t know anything about it except that no demons were involved.”
Azrad snorted. He turned his attention to Ildirin.
“I’ve sent messages to all the gates, and to Guildmaster Ithinia, as you asked,” Ildirin said. “So far we have no word back from any of them.” “Send word to the Guild again,” Azrad said. “Tell them it’s urgent I meet with their representatives.”
“Azrad, I don’t even know whether Ithinia is in the city at present...”
“Then send messages toall the Guildmasters, and any other important wizards you can think of!” Azrad demanded. “They claim to regulate magicians, don’t they? Then they had better regulatethose people, those... those...”
“Warlocks,” Captain Vengar offered.
The others all turned to stare at him.
“That’s what they’re called,” Vengar said, looking around uneasily at the inquiring faces. “Someone told the guards in the plaza last night. It’s a witch name, apparently.”
“The witches know something about them?” Azrad asked.
“I don’t know, my lord,” Vengar said.
“Who told the guards about this?”
“I’m not sure, my lord. I believe it was someone in Lord Han-ner’s party, perhaps Lord Hanner himself.”
“Faran’s nephew? That Lord Hanner?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I want to know everything you can tell me about that-where is Lord Hanner, and what is he doing? How did he know that name?”
Vengar hesitated. “My lord, Lord Hanner came to the plaza last night, after you were asleep, in the company of several strangers, some of whom were warlocks. The party was stopped well before approaching the bridge. He asked permission to enter, but was refused, in accordance with your orders. Lord Faran sent Lady Alris
