he reaches a decision! Justforget about the magic, will you? Treat them as ordinary thieves and vandals!” “And what if I let them go, and the overlord...” “I’lltake the responsibility for that!” Hanner shouted. “You just get on with it!”
“You’ll take responsibility, before these witnesses?”
“Yes,blast you!”
“Very well, then. Ordinary thieves and vandals.” He looked at the waiting prisoners, pointed at the first one, and said, “You! Do you deny any part of what Lord Hanner has said of your actions last night?”
He had chosen Kirsha, the only female. “No, my lord,” she said.
“Are there any extenuating circumstances you believe should be considered in determining your punishment?”
The girl hesitated, glanced at Rudhira, then said, “I thought I was dreaming, my lord.”
The magistrate sat back in his chair.“Did you?” he said. “How interesting! Why?”
“Well... Ihad been dreaming, a nightmare about falling and burning and smothering, and then I woke up but I was hanging in midair-my lord, I’d never even spoken to a magician before; the only flying I’d ever done was in dreams. So I thought I was still dreaming.”
“And you didn’t notice that the World was its usual solid self?”
“But it wasn’t! Not at first, anyway. I could fly and make other things fly, and there were people screaming everywhere-everything seemed mad, so I thought it was either a dream or the end of the World, and I could do anything I pleased.”
“So you went rampaging through the street, looting shops.”
The girl nodded unhappily.
“That doesn’t say much for your upbringing or your common sense.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Five lashes, and you will compensate your victims as best you can.”
The girl flinched, but Manner thought the sentence was fair enough.
He didn’t comment, though; he was too busy regaining his own composure. He had never before yelled at anyone like that in public. Not since childhood had he lost his temper so completely.
He hoped it wasn’t connected to becoming a warlock; the idea that he might eventually go rampaging through the streets, as so many warlocks had done the night before, was profoundly disturbing.
On the other hand, he had seen Uncle Faran lose his temper that way once or twice, usually when he was short on sleep and severely overworked, so perhaps it ran in the family and he just hadn’t had the occasion to experience it before. The next prisoner to be brought forward was a young man, Roggit Rayel’s son. He had known he was awake, but claimed he had thought the city was being destroyed by screaming demons, and had wanted to gather enough treasure to live on when he fled to Aldagmor.
“Aldagmor?” the magistrate asked. “Why Aldagmor? Do you have family there?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then why Aldagmor, and not the Small Kingdoms, or Tin-tallion, or somewhere?”
“I don’t know, my lord,” Roggit said, head bowed. “It just seemed right.”
Hanner heard this with intense interest. Aldagmor, the easternmost of the Baronies of Sardiron, was almost due north of the city, and many of the people who had disappeared had last been seen heading north. Was there some significant connection, perhaps?
“You’re old enough to know better,” the magistrate said. “Seven lashes, and whatever restitution you can make.”
The third prisoner, Gror of the Crooked Teeth, merely said that he had been profoundly disturbed by nightmares, had awakened to see others running wild, and had followed their example; he received a sentence of eight lashes. The fourth was Saldan of Southgate, the older man who had been dueling with the man Ru-dhira killed; he had no excuse at all. He also received eight lashes.
Hanner hesitated, uncertain whether he should point out that Saldan might have killed someone in the chaos and could therefore deserve something more than a relatively light flogging, but in the end he said nothing. As far as Hanner could tell no one, including Saldan, reallyknew whether he had killed anyone, and while the magistrate might bring in a magician who could settle the matter Hanner thought it would be better to give Saldan the benefit of the doubt.
Besides, he didn’t want to drag magic back into the proceedings once he had finally convinced the magistrate to ignore it.
The guards led the four prisoners away; unless the convicts could demonstrate poor health or wanted particular witnesses, the floggings would take place immediately, and the prisoners would be released as soon afterward as they were able to put their tunics back on and walk out.
Hanner had no desire to watch; instead he took his leave, and he and the three warlocks-the threeother warlocks, he silently reminded himself-left the magistrate’s home and turned their steps eastward.
“I’d like to see what’s happening at the Palace,” Hanner said. “Would you three care to join me?”
“I don’t think so,” Zarek said uneasily. “There are too many guards around the Palace. I’ll just go back to the house, if you don’t mind.” He hesitated. “Will that housekeeper let me back in?”
“Bern?” Hanner had not given specific orders, but Bern had seemed a very sensible person, and had heard Hanner invite the others to stay that morning. “I would think so-but if he doesn’t, just stay nearby, and I’ll be back eventually.” Zarek nodded and turned right at the next corner, back toward High Street.
Rudhira and Othisen stayed with Hanner, though. Hanner looked at the farmboy with mild interest as the threesome walked down Merchant Street. “I thought you were in a hurry to get home,” he said.
“I changed my mind,” Othisen replied. “This is all pretty exciting, you know. And I don’t mind another look at the Palace; it’s an impressive building.”
Hanner blinked and didn’t reply, but that was not because the boy’s words had no effect. On the contrary, Hanner found them startling and distracting.
Impressive? He had never thought of the Palace as impressive; he had just thought of it as home. He had been born there, after all, and had lived his entire life within those familiar halls and chambers.
Othisen had presumably grown up on a farm somewhere; visiting the city was probably a special occasion for him, where Hanner had never yet slept outside Ethshar’s walls. Hanner supposed that the entire city would probably be impressive to someone who had never seen it before, and the Palace was, after all, perhaps the largest single building in all Ethshar of the Spices.
But it was still just home to Hanner; he couldn’t really think of it in any other way.
Of course, right now, he reminded himself, it wasnot home— he was banned from the Palace, by Azrad’s order, until further notice. He was sure this was just a temporary aberration, though, and that everything would be back to normal in a few days.
He looked around, trying to judge whether the city looked any different.
The streets appeared to be much as they were on any other day, though perhaps the crowds were a bit thinner than average and the people a little more nervous, a little more prone to hurry. There were a few looted shops visible down one side street, their smashed display windows hastily boarded up, and one old house on Lower Street in the New City had been burned out, but most of the city seemed untouched by the previous night’s insanity.
There had been a spasm of violence and wild behavior, clearly, but it was past. Things should return to normal soon enough. Magical mishaps had happened before, though perhaps not on quite so large a scale, and Ethshar had always recovered quickly.
It was tragic that those hundreds of people had disappeared, of course, but there wasn’t much to be done about it unless some magician could determine where they had gone and bring them back. Surely, Azrad would see that. Hanner peered down the street toward the Palace.
He could see the parapet atop the facade, but the surrounding structures and the people on the street blocked his view of most of the building.
He couldhear something, though.
He frowned at that. He could very definitely hear the sound of the crowds ahead-and it was not a good sound, but an angry buzz.
“Come on,” he said, picking up the pace and trying not to pant. He glanced over to see whether the others
