The Unwelcome Warlock

around. She thought that he would prefer not to have any potential rivals, but she couldn’t know that with any certainty.

“Well, at least we won’t need to travel to the edge of the World to kill him,” she muttered, as they neared her front door.

“If I may, Guildmaster — we may not want to kill him.”

“What?” She stopped walking and turned to face her fellow wizard.

“You see, as I understand it,” Rothiel explained, “as soon as he was informed of the Guild’s edict forbidding warlocks in his empire, he left the empire and came here. He’s obeying our ruling; it wouldn’t look good to kill him.”

“It wouldn’t look good to have a warlock running amok in the streets of Ethshar, either.”

“He isn’t running amok, Guildmaster. He’s behaving himself, at least so far. And there’s something else.”

“What?”

“The overlord’s rules. He doesn’t allow the killing foreign dignitaries within the city walls — not even by us.”

“Foreign dignitaries?”

“I think an emperor qualifies as a foreign dignitary, yes.”

“Oh, blood and death!” Ithinia had been thinking of Vond purely as a dangerous magician, and had forgotten that he was also an emperor.

At the sound of her outburst one of her gargoyles turned to look down at her; she could hear the grinding of stone on stone, but she ignored it as she considered the situation.

The very fact that Vond was both a warlock and an emperor violated the Guild’s rule against allowing anyone to possess both personal magic and political power, and ordinarily that would have been enough to demand his abdication or death, but just how the Guild could enforce this in the present circumstances was unclear. He was a foreign official, and therefore under the overlord’s protection as long as he was inside the city walls.

Wizards of Ithinia’s level certainly had the power to do whatever they pleased, regardless of the overlord’s laws or orders, but the Guild had insisted for centuries that its members must obey the local laws wherever practical. Throwing away that long history of cooperation with the triumvirate that ruled the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars was not something to be done lightly, not even to remove the last warlock from the World. Wizards were an accepted part of Ethsharitic society, and everyone liked it that way, but there were limits. Defying Lord Azrad on this might well be a catastrophically bad idea.

Well, maybe Vond wouldn’t be staying. Maybe he was only visiting for a few days, and would then go back to the Small Kingdoms, where he could be assassinated with impunity.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Rothiel said. “If he behaves himself, having one last warlock around might even be useful.”

“One last warlock, maybe,” Ithinia grudgingly admitted. “The Great Vond, self-proclaimed emperor? I doubt that will end well. And that’s without mentioning his power source; we don’t know what his magic is doing to the towers.”

“It probably isn’t doing anything, Guildmaster.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. While we’re at it, let’s hope Vond doesn’t turn this city into a slaughterhouse.”

“If he does, I’m sure the overlord will ask us to kill him.”

“I’m sure that will be a great comfort to his victims’ families.”

“Ithinia, he didn’t turn Semma into a slaughterhouse; why should he treat his home city any worse?”

“Because we’re more crowded here, and less willing to be pushed around. He built his empire by replacing a bunch of kings; those people were used to taking orders.”

“I don’t see how our three overlords are so very different, Guildmaster.”

“That’s because you’ve never lived in the Small Kingdoms.”

“If you will forgive me for saying so, neither have you. You’re from Tintallion, aren’t you? And you’ve been here in Ethshar for centuries.”

“Yes, I’m from Tintallion,” Ithinia agreed, “and Tintallion has kings, so I know what they’re like. The overlords are different.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. I also say that I will sleep more easily when Vond is dead.”

“I will sleep more easily if I am not involved in angering the overlord.”

“Fine! Then you won’t be involved. I’m not going to kill Vond while he’s in the city unless the overlord gives permission, or unless I’m acting in self-defense.” She smiled. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t encourage him to go elsewhere.”

“I don’t think —” Rothiel began.

Ithinia cut him off. “I want to talk to those theurgists again,” she said. “And I want to hire some witches.”

“I don’t...”

“Wizardry doesn’t work properly on warlocks, but witchcraft does.”

“Guildmaster, I...”

“You don’t want to be involved? I’m not going to kill him. But that’s fine; you don’t need to be involved. I’ll handle this myself.” She turned and strode to her front door, leaving Rothiel standing in the street looking baffled.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hanner was sitting alone in the dim parlor, trying to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, when someone knocked on the big front door.

He had been sitting there for hours, unable to settle on a course of action. Not only had he not developed any long-range plans, he had not even managed to deal with immediate questions, such as whether or not to inform Ithinia of Vond’s arrival, or whether to go look up his sisters or his children. He wanted to see Faran, and Arris, and Hala, but did they want to see him? He had abandoned them when he flew off to Aldagmor, and he didn’t know whether they would understand that he had had no choice, or would blame him for giving in to the Call.

He knew he probably wouldn’t even recognize them — they had been children when he left, and they were adults now, with children of their own. He might have already passed them on the street without knowing it. From his point of view he had seen them barely a sixnight before, but for them it had been seventeen years.

At least he was reasonably certain he would recognize his sisters, Nerra and Alris, but they, too, were seventeen years older. Seeing Mavi had been a shock, even before she chose her new husband over him, and he was not quite ready to see how his siblings had changed, but he knew he could not put it off for long without offending them.

And his children — did they know he was still alive?

He had been letting his mind run in circles, getting nowhere, for much of the afternoon.

He told himself that after his ordeal in Aldagmor, and the stress of the Calling before that, he deserved a little rest, that his family would understand, but he was not at all sure that what he was doing was really rest, rather than paralysis.

The knock broke the spell, at least for a moment. With a sigh, Hanner got to his feet and ambled to the door — there was no one else in the house to answer it. Vond and Zallin were still off on their tour. Rudhira had returned and joined him for lunch, but was now making a second trip to the markets, intent on stocking the kitchens before the weather turned foul enough to make shopping difficult. Sterren had departed immediately after lunch, saying he was going out to look for someone named Emmis of Shiphaven.

Whoever was out there was impatient, and knocked again before Hanner could get to the door. “I’m coming!” he shouted. He hastened his pace a little, and swung the door open, expecting to see Sterren or