The Unwelcome Warlock

House, on High Street! After all, I’m the only warlock left.”

“What about the empire?”

“You and the Council seem to have done a fine job of running it. I’ll let you go on doing it.”

“I’m honored that you think so, your Majesty.”

“Oh, stop it. You aren’t one of these idiot Semmans. Don’t pretend you’re my humble obedient lapdog. You aren’t honored.”

Sterren turned up a palm. “Pleased, then. Yes, I thought we did a pretty good job, but that doesn’t mean you thought so.”

“The empire was still here when I got back, and it looks peaceful and prosperous. That’s more than I expected. I thought it would all fall apart in a month without me here to keep everyone in line.”

“Oh. Well, we did the best we could.”

“And you did well. So I don’t need to stay here.”

Sterren hesitated, then asked, “So do you intend to abdicate?”

“What?” Vond had been looking off to the north again; now he turned and stared at Sterren. “No, of course not,” he said. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, if you don’t intend to stay here and rule the empire...”

“It’s still my empire, though! It’s gotten along fine without me for fifteen years; it can do so for a few more. I’ll probably come back eventually, when I get bored. Maybe I’ll conquer all the Small Kingdoms, and reunite Old Ethshar. Or conquer the entire World.”

“So you won’t be naming an heir to rule after you’re gone?”

“No, of course not. I don’t need one. You do know warlocks don’t die of old age, don’t you? At least, not if we’re any good. We can heal ourselves.”

In fact, Sterren had not known anything of the sort; as long as the Calling had existed, old age hadn’t been an issue. “Oh,” he said.

“No, I’m keeping the empire,” Vond said. “And I’m not naming an heir. But I think I should name a regent, to take care of things while I’m gone. I don’t want to let your fifteen years of work go for nothing.”

“Oh,” Sterren said again.

“It should be easier this time,” Vond continued. “After all, if anyone starts a rebellion or a war, the regent can just send me a message, and I’ll come take care of it.”

“I see,” Sterren said. He noticed that Vond referred to “the regent,” rather than saying “you,” and braced himself — was he going to be dismissed, told that he’d done his job and was free to go?

Or was he going to be killed for what he had done to hurry Vond’s Calling, fifteen years ago?

“That’s why I brought you up here to talk,” Vond said. Sterren had a vision of being allowed to plunge sixty yards to the pavement below, and took a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t interrupted.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Would you like to come with me to Ethshar? You’re from the city, too — aren’t you sick of being stuck out here in the corner of the World, surrounded by shepherds and farmers and inbred princelings?”

“I — I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’d want you to handle things for me, all those annoying everyday things that I’d rather not bother with. You wouldn’t be chancellor anymore, you’d be, oh, chief of staff, I suppose.”

Sterren tried to think quickly; he didn’t want to make a mistake. The wrong choice could get him killed, and probably a good many other people, as well. If he stayed in Semma there would be no one to keep Vond from running amok should he lose his temper, no one who could try to talk him into behaving in a civilized fashion — but there was no certainty that he could keep Vond’s temper in check, and that he wouldn’t wind up like Ildirin, his brains splattered on a stone wall somewhere.

His family and friends were all in Semma now; he had lived here almost his entire adult life. If Vond did go off to Ethshar without him and went berserk, the Wizards’ Guild or some other magician would probably be able to dispose of the renegade warlock, while Sterren lived in quiet retirement with his wife and children.

It occurred to him that Vond did not know that Sterren had a wife and children; the emperor hadn’t bothered to ask, and Sterren was not about to volunteer the information. He certainly wasn’t going to volunteer the fact that he had sent his family into exile the moment he realized Vond was returning. He had no desire to anger the warlock.

“I’m flattered, your Majesty, but...” he began.

“If you stay here, of course, I’d expect you to continue as regent,” Vond said. “If you come with me, perhaps you can suggest your replacement.”

That eliminated the possibility of a quiet retirement. Sterren had been thinking he and Shirrin and the kids might find themselves a comfortable place in Inshar or Wunth, or maybe go all the way to Ethshar of the Sands, away from both Vond and his empire, but it seemed his choice was between being regent or being chief of staff, with no option to leave the whole mess behind.

He had been trying to leave all of his obligations here behind ever since Lady Kalira had found him playing dice in a tavern, and informed him that he was the hereditary warlord of Semma. No matter what he did, he had always wound up back here, saddled with responsibilities he didn’t want.

Of course, once Vond was gone, and Sterren was married to a Semman princess, and the treaty with the Wizards’ Guild had prevented any more border wars, it hadn’t been so bad.

But Vond was back, the treaty had been violated, and he had sent Shirrin away. He was back where he started.

And a possibility occurred to him.

When he went back to Ethshar to recruit magicians, all those years ago, he had intended to slip away and lose himself in the city. Lady Kalira had anticipated that and prevented it.

Lady Kalira, whatever her other failings, was smarter than Vond.

Merely slipping away probably wouldn’t work; there were ways to find people, and if those weren’t available Vond might simply tear the city apart looking for him. But if he could convince Vond there was a reason not to pursue him, he might manage to escape once and for all. Perhaps he could fake his own death.

Once he was free, he could find Shirrin — he’d ordered Noril to try to get her and the children to Ethshar, so she might be there waiting for him. They could settle down quietly somewhere. They wouldn’t be drawing a salary from the imperial treasury anymore, but Sterren was sure he could find a way to get by. Cheating at dice, perhaps. After all, he was one of two warlocks left in the World, and the only one no one knew about.

“I think Lady Kalira would make an excellent regent,” he said. “Or really, any of the older members of the Imperial Council.”

“Then you’ll come with me?”

“I think it’s a fine idea,” he said. “But I’ll need to pack, and give some final instructions.”

“Of course,” Vond said. Without warning, the two of them began to descend slowly. “Shall I come back for you tomorrow afternoon? I’ll take the time to look around a little, see how the empire is doing. You can tell everyone what’s happening; I’d rather not do it myself.”

“As you please, your Majesty, but are you sure you don’t want to make the announcement yourself? You don’t want anyone thinking it was my idea to lure you away from your beloved subjects.”

“I don’t want to see anyone celebrating my departure, either,” Vond said. “I’d hate to ruin my day with the necessity of killing a bunch of people for disloyalty.”

“Ah,” Sterren said. “Yes, I can see that. Tomorrow, then, an hour or so past noon?”

“Or thereabouts. I expect you’ll be ready and waiting near the palace door.”

Sterren glanced down at the approaching ground, and the crowd that had cleared a broad swath of pavement beside the fountain, ready for their master’s landing.

“That would be fine,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” Vond said. “I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Then Sterren’s feet touched stone, and he staggered slightly. When he straightened up again, Vond was soaring upward, then curving to the east before dwindling rapidly to a mere speck, vanishing in the distance.