The Unwelcome Warlock. Lawrence Watt-Evans
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does it matter if he can hear us?” Prince Ferral asked. “We aren’t saying anything terrible. Even if we were, it’s not as if we could do anything to stop him from doing whatever he pleases.”
“I wasn’t planning to say anything treasonous,” Arris replied nervously. “I just wanted to know.”
“Where is he now, do you think?” Goluz asked.
“He was talking to some of those people he brought with him,” Lady Kalira said.
“Out in the plaza,” Sterren confirmed.
“I wish Algarven was here,” Goluz muttered.
Sterren sympathized; Algarven was one of the steadiest, most sensible voices on the Council. Unfortunately, he was off inspecting the ports, to help the Council decide whether to expand the facilities in Quonshar, or put more resources into the harbor in Akalla of the Diamond, or whether there was a third option worth considering. Quonshar was closest to the empire’s border, and to Ethshar, while Akalla was closest to the imperial capital of Semma. The best natural port, though, was probably Kalshar, which lay between the others.
“But he isn’t here,” Sterren said. “Neither is Lady Tanna. There are just the six of us gathered here.”
The councillors exchanged glances.
“Why are we meeting, really?” Ferral asked. “The Emperor is back, he’s reclaimed his position, and we can’t do anything but accept it and go on administering the empire.”
“That’s probably true,” Sterren admitted. “I thought it might be a good idea to make sure we all understood the situation, that’s all. You seem to have a solid grasp of the realities, your Highness, but perhaps not everyone here was as quick to realize our position.”
“I wasn’t,” Goluz proclaimed.
“Vond is probably going to want to talk to us at some point, to hear what we’ve been doing since he left,” Sterren continued. “I didn’t want anyone to be caught off-guard. We need to answer his questions honestly; don’t try to lie about anything.” He hesitated, then added, “Except, of course, your loyalty to him. Whether you really are loyal or not is irrelevant; never give him any reason to doubt you. Let him think you’re an incompetent and he’ll probably just accept it, but say even a word of defiance and he might squash you.”
Lady Kalira glanced in the direction of where poor Ildirin had been smashed against a wall fifteen years before, and shuddered. Ildirin had not been defiant. He had not even been seriously incompetent; merely unlucky.
“If any of you do come up with any schemes to overthrow the emperor, I would strongly suggest you don’t tell the rest of us,” Sterren said. “If you succeed, then I’m sure we’ll accept it, but I do not want to see this entire council destroyed if a plot goes wrong and we’re all implicated. That would be very bad for the empire, as well as for us.”
This time it was not just Kalira who shuddered.
“Please notice, though, that I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t try to remove Vond,” Sterren said.
“You think seven plots are more likely to result in one that succeeds than a single big conspiracy is,” Ferral said.
“I am not going to comment on that,” Sterren said, nodding.
“You don’t think multiple conspiracies might get in each other’s way?” Kalira asked.
Sterren turned up an empty palm. “Who knows?”
“The Wizards’ Guild banned warlocks from the empire,” Lady Arris said.
“They did,” Sterren agreed. “I expect they will attempt to enforce that eventually, but it may take some time, and I don’t know how effective they’ll be.”
“Or how much damage they’ll do in the process,” Ferral said. “The stories about that lunatic magician calling herself Empress Tabaea in Ethshar of the Sands aren’t encouraging.”
“The Cult of Demerchan might be interested to know Vond is back,” Kalira suggested.
“They might be,” Sterren agreed.
“Fellow councillors,” Goluz said, glancing around, “I am concerned by what I am hearing here. Don’t any of you think Vond’s return might be a good thing? After all, he built this palace in a matter of days, and built roads, and used his magic in a dozen beneficial ways.”
Kalira and Sterren exchanged glances. “He may do more useful things,” Sterren acknowledged. “I don’t think he actually wants to hurt anyone. His rule may do more good than harm. But he isn’t strong on self-control, and he has the power to do a huge amount of damage very quickly. I don’t think any of us are about to assassinate him tonight, by any means; I think most of us will want to wait and see how matters develop. But if they develop badly, it would not hurt to have a few ideas of how to improve the situation.”
“As Lady Arris said,” Kalira added, “the Wizards’ Guild banned warlocks from the empire. I do not like the idea of being caught in a battle between Vond and the Guild.”
“But if that battle happens, shouldn’t we side with Vond, rather than the Guild?” Goluz asked. “He’s our emperor!”
Sterren grimaced. “You’re free to decide for yourself,” he said, “but I don’t ever want to be on the side fighting the Wizards’ Guild.”
“If I do decide to assassinate the emperor,” Lord Vorash said, speaking for the first time, “I will be careful not to mention it to you, Lord Goluz.”
That provoked nervous laughter for a few of the councillors — though not, Sterren noticed, from Lord Goluz.
“I think we’ve said quite enough,” Prince Ferral announced, pushing back his chair. “I’m going to go attend to my own business now. If the emperor wishes to speak to me, I will be at his disposal.”
Lady Arris rose as well, and then the others, and a moment later Sterren was alone in the room.
He sat for a moment, thinking.
Maybe Lord Goluz was right. Maybe having the only warlock in the World as their ruler would be a good thing. Maybe he would build roads and dredge harbors and heal the sick. Certainly, he would enforce the peace within the empire.
But almost the first thing he had said upon returning was that he intended to conquer a neighboring kingdom. He had asked after his harem. He had admitted abandoning thousands of former warlocks in the wilderness of Aldagmor, and made no mention of doing anything to help them.
Those weren’t the words of a thoughtful and effective ruler.
Sterren sighed, and got to his feet.
He found Lar Samber’s son waiting for him outside the council chamber door. The man was showing his age; his hair was white, and he moved stiffly as he rose to greet his employer. His weight had varied over the years, and at the moment he was stout, verging on fat. His weight seemed to be slowing him down, where it never had before. Sterren felt a twinge of guilt at summoning him; Lar had been more or less retired for the past few years.
“Regent,” Lar said in Ethsharitic. “You sent for me.”
“I’m not a regent anymore,” Sterren said in Semmat. Ethsharitic was the official language of the empire, while Semmat was the local tongue; Sterren knew both well. Vond did not; he was only fluent in Ethsharitic. The council meeting had been conducted entirely in Ethsharitic, since not all the councillors spoke Semmat, but now Sterren switched to the language the emperor did not understand. “Vond has reclaimed his throne. I suppose I might be chancellor again, though.”
“I stand corrected,” Lar said in Semmat. “You did send for me, though.”
Sterren sighed again, and nodded. “I did,” he said. “As I’m sure you know, Vond is back.