approve of this mysteriousthing that happened, not at all-but I do accept that it happened, now, and I’ll live with it. I can’t fight youand the wizards.”
“We have no desire to fight anyone, my lord. We just want to live in peace. The madness of the Night of Madness ended long ago.”
“Yes, I accept that,” Azrad said irritably. “I said so. And that’s why you’re here. If you warlocks are going to be magicians like all the others, then you’re responsible for any damage you do with your magic.” He gestured at the far end of the room. “Are you going to pay for those doors? And the chairs? The artisans are askingthree hundred rounds of gold to repair just the doors!”
Hanner blinked, then turned to look thoughtfully at the velvet curtains.
“We can’t afford that much at present, my lord,” he said, turning back, “but I believe we can repair the doors ourselves. War-lockry can repair as well as destroy. Surely you’ve heard that we have been aiding in repairs elsewhere.”
It was Azrad’s turn to be surprised. “Yes, but... those doors are huge!”
“I believe we can handle them.” In fact, heknew his warlocks could handle the job; this was exactly the sort of thing warlockry did well.
“Can you really? Excellent!”
Hanner could not resist a small jab. “We have not done so previously, my lord, because you have maintained strong restrictions on admitting warlocks to the Palace.”
“Well... yes. Fine. The restrictions won’t be applied to anyone who comes to make repairs.”
“Then I’ll send some warlocks as soon as I get home,” Hanner said.
“Good!” Azrad smiled. “I hate those curtains. It’s drafty in here, even with the window repaired.”
“We could have done that as well, had you asked,” Hanner said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Azrad said, waving away the subject— which Hanner assumed meant it had been done by the palace staff, or by workmen who charged far less than goldsmiths. “But the chairs...”
“I’m not sure about those,” Hanner said. “My warlocks will look at them and let you know.”
“Good, good.” The smile faded. “That brings us to personal matters, the other reasons I insisted thatyou come, rather than one of your underlings.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“We still have your uncle’s remains,” Azrad explained. “I’m really not sure what to do with them-an intact statue would join the others, and an ordinary corpse would be properly burned or otherwise dealt with, but a shattered statue...” He turned up a palm. “Perhaps you could reassemble the pieces somehow, maybe even bring him back to life.”
Hanner considered that for a moment. He was fairly certain that warlockry could indeed reassemble the pieces and fuse them back together, but restore Faran to life? Warlockry couldn’t do that; only wizardry could, if it was possible at all.
And since Faran had been killed by the Wizards’ Guild, Hanner doubted any wizard would dare attempt a revival.
But it would be a proper and respectful thing to reassemble the pieces and set the statue somewhere.
“Thank you, my lord,” he said. “I would be pleased to take Lord Faran’s remains.”
“Good,” Azrad said, clearly relieved. He looked up and beckoned. “Clurim, it’s your turn!”
Startled, Hanner turned to see Lord Clurim emerge from the little cluster of nobles to the east.
“We understand that you’re now the head of your family,” Azrad said. “As such, Lord Clurim has a request to make.”
Anything that called for the head of his family must involve his sisters, Hanner realized. Nerra was of marriageable age, but Clurim already had a wife...
It was Alris who was following Clurim out of the crowd.
“It’s about your sister,” Lord Clurim said. “Alris has asked to become my apprentice. Ordinarily... well, she’s a month past thirteen, which is a year older than she should be, and you’ve foresworn your title, and...”
Hanner held up a hand. “My lord,” he said, “I have no objection if my sister wants to be your apprentice; in fact, it would remove one of my worries.” He smiled at Alris.
“Well, that’s good,” Clurim said. He turned to Alris. “Come on, then.” He marched toward one of the side doors.
Alris waved quickly to Hanner, then hurried after her master. Hanner watched them go.
That reallywas a relief-he had wondered what would become of his sisters. Neither was interested in becoming a warlock; Nerra had been repulsed by the very idea. Alris, who a few months before had been desperate to learn some sort of magic, had given it some serious consideration before rejecting the offer.
“I’ve seen quite enough of warlocks already,” she said. “You aren’t what I want to be.”
He would have thought she had seen enough of the Palace, as well, but apparently not. As apprentice to the Lord of the Household she would see every bit of it, and could expect to someday become Lady of the Household, responsible for running the place.
“That’s all, then,” Lord Azrad said, startling Hanner anew. He quickly turned back to face the overlord, but Azrad was waving a dismissal. “It was good to see you, Hanner,” he said. “I’ll have my people bring out your uncle’s remains, and don’t forget to send those warlocks to fix the doors.”
Hanner bowed an acknowledgement and stepped backward, away from the throne. He found a servant ready to lead him out of the audience chamber through one of the small side doors; a delegation of merchants was waiting at the drapes for their turn to speak to the overlord.
Hanner let himself be led and found Nerra following him. A moment later the two of them were in a stone corridor, walking side by side in silence.
Hanner broke that silence by remarking, “So Alris found herself an apprenticeship after all.”
“And about time she did,” Nerra said. “She spent most of the last year sitting around complaining how bored she is.”
“I wonder why Uncle Faran didn’t make it a point to look for an apprenticeship for her, then. I mean, I know she wanted to be a magician, and of course he wouldn’t allow that, but surely he could have asked the other lords or found her a respectable trade somewhere.”
Nerra looked up at him, startled. “You really don’t know why she wouldn’t take an apprenticeship in the Palace?”
Hanner’s puzzlement was obvious. “Should I?”
“Yes, you should. Sometimes, Hanner, you can be blind. She didn’t want to stay that close to Uncle Faran for the rest of her life, where he would try to run everything she did.”
“Oh,” Hanner said. “But then, couldn’t he have found her a respectable apprenticeship somewhere else?”
“Uncle Faran didn’t want the distraction,” Nerra said. “And he wanted to keep her around so he could marry her off to Lord Ederd’s son, so she’d wind up the mother of an overlord.”
“I heard him suggest that,” Hanner admitted. “In fact, I knew he wanted to arrange good marriages for both of you, but I didn’t realize he was that determined-or that you didn’t like the idea.” He frowned. “Ederd the Younger is only a year younger than I am.” He glanced at Nerra. “Why didn’t he try to marry you off to him?”
“He did,” Nerra said. “Remember when we sailed to Ethshar of the Sands last year? But so far we weren’t cooperating, Ederd and I, so he wanted Alris as his last resort.”
“Then what did he plan for you, if Alris married Ederd?”
“I was to marry a high-ranking wizard, so I could be his spy in the Guild.” She grimaced. “I hate wizards.”
That sounded very like Uncle Faran.
“So what do you plan to do now?” Hanner asked. “Alris found an apprenticeship, but you’re already eighteen-youcan’t do that.”
“Oh, I expect I’ll marry someone,” she replied. “I don’t have anyone in mind yet, but I have someone playing matchmaker.” They had reached the end of the corridor; Nerra opened the door at the end, and they stepped through it, out into the central hallway.
“Who’s your matchmaker?” Hanner asked. “Perhaps I could help”
“She is,” Nerra said, pointing.
