As he did, he finally noticed the bell pull hanging just inside the door, a few inches from where the candle had been waiting.
“Oh, for...” he began. Then he bit the oath off short and tugged at the cord.
Somewhere he heard a distant tinkle.
It was possible that there were no servants in residence at present, but it seemed unlikely-the place was obviously clean and well maintained, and Uncle Faran would probably want to be able to drop in at any time, without notice, with his latest conquest on his arm, and be properly attended.
That done, Hanner turned to face the crowd gathered in the hallway. Some of them were barely visible by the lone candle’s light, but Hanner was sure they were all there. He cleared his throat, and every face turned toward him.
“All right,” Hanner said, “I don’t know whether anyone will answer that bell, but if someone does, he or she will know better than I what sleeping accommodations are available here. I, on the other hand, feel qualified to explain a few things that you ought to know before you agree to stay here. This is my uncle’s house — my uncle Faran’s. Yes, that’s the same Lord Faran who is chief advisor to the overlord. Knowing my uncle as I do, I’m sure he knows the exact location and value of every item in this house. Now, most of you are honest citizens who were caught up in tonight’s madness through no fault of your own, but a few of you are... well, perhaps not entirely honest, and you’ve suddenly had magical abilities thrust upon you. Furthermore, I’m sure most of you have never before been in such luxurious surroundings and may find yourself tempted to borrow a trinket or two, or to tamper with some unfamiliar device. Don’t. I know my uncle. If you interfere with any of his possessions, if you damage or break or steal anything, you’re risking your very life. We’re trusting you all to be on your very best behavior for your stay here. Thank you.”
“But we’re warlocks,” a young man-a boy, really-said. “Don’t we... won’t that mean anything?”
“I don’t know,” Hanner said honestly. “I don’t know much of anything about it. But I do know not to fool around with my uncle’s belongings.”
Because he was standing by the door and facing down the hallway, and the others were all turned to face him, Hanner was the first to see the light that sprang up beneath the stairs. “Ah!” he said, stepping forward.
A man in fine white linen and black breeches appeared from beneath the stairs, holding a copper lamp; the hallway brightened considerably. He stopped dead and stared at the crowd in the hallway in ill-concealed astonishment.
“Hai!” Hanner said, striding through the gathered warlocks. “I’m Lord Hanner, Lord Faran’s nephew.” He held up the key to the front door. “An emergency has come up, and my uncle agreed to let me and my companions stay the night here.”
“My lord,” the man mumbled, still looking about in confusion at the unexpected throng.
“This is my sister, Lady Alris,” Hanner said as he came even with his sibling. “And your name is...?”
“Bern, my lord.”
“Bern,” Hanner said as he came up to the man and clapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent. There are twenty-one of us in all, but if there aren’t sufficient beds for so many we’ll be glad to share, or to make do with couches or carpets.”
“There are... there are ten guest rooms, my lord, and Lord Faran’s own bed.” Bern was clearly hesitant, unsure how he should deal with this horde of unanticipated guests.
They did have a key, though, Hanner thought, and a gang of thieves would hardly have so many ill-assorted members. Hanner was fairly sure Bern would accept him at his word, and was trying hard to convey an attitude of absolute certainty.
“Excellent!” Hanner smiled broadly. “Lead the way, then, and we’ll settle in. It’s late, and we don’t wish to impose on my uncle’s hospitality any more than necessary.” “Of course, my lord,” Bern said, finally recovering his aplomb. “This way.”
It took another half hour to get the entire party properly distributed, at two to a room. All the bedchambers were on the second floor-Manner was briefly puzzled and asked Bern, “Why aren’t there any beds on the third and fourth floor?”
“There may be beds there, my lord,” Bern replied, “but I am not permitted on the top two floors. Those are Lord Faran’s private rooms, and no one but he is allowed up there.”
“Oh,” Hanner said. He was too tired to pursue the matter further and returned his attention to sleeping arrangements. In the end Alris and Rudhira took the chief guest room and Hanner took Faran’s own bed for himself, while the others were paired off more or less randomly in the other nine chambers.
Each room was tastefully lush and equipped with enough bedding for two-sometimes one large bed, sometimes more than one. No one complained about the accommodations; in fact, some rooms were greeted with awed silence. What delays did occur were the result of getting lamps or candles lit, locating chamber pots, and arguing over who would share which room.
Hanner was unspeakably weary, almost staggering, when Bern finally swung open the door of the master bedroom and led Hanner in.
Hanner stopped dead in his tracks and simply stared while Bern crossed to a bedside table to light the lamp there.
He had known that his uncle had a sybaritic streak, and had often heard Faran complain about the size, arrangement, and condition of their apartments in the Palace, but he had always assumed those complaints to be largely empty rhetoric. Hanner had seen the interiors of several other mansions in the New City and knew they were more luxurious than the rooms in the Palace, but he had always found Faran’s official quarters comfortable enough. Despite the grumbles, he had thought his uncle did, too.
Now he changed his mind.
It was not a matter of size; the grand bedchamber was large, but not outrageously so. It was, rather, the furnishings that impressed him.
The bed was thick and soft, mattresses piled waist-high within the carved ebony frame, and was wide enough that Hanner could have lain across the black silken coverlet with neither head nor feet hanging over the side. Lengthwise, he could not stretch far enough to reach both footboard and headboard simultaneously. Wine-red velvet curtains trimmed in black and gold hung from a silk and velvet canopy, tied back on either side with elaborate gold-braid rosettes.
At each corner of the bed stood a table. The two at the head held the usual appurtenances-lamps, basin, pitcher, mirrors, and so on. The two at the foot held bronze statues, each of a nude couple engaged in amorous play. Chests of drawers, trimmed with intricate carvings, stood against one wall, and two enormous wardrobes, their doors elaborately painted, occupied another. A marble statue of a woman stood in the center of the room. A small, extraordinarily fine shrine was built into the wall near the head of the bed. Two broad windows, shuttered and curtained, pierced the north side of the room. A large marble and gilt mantel topped a carved marble fireplace above an elegant tile hearth; a gold and ivory screen blocked the opening, since no one would want a fire for months. Half a dozen fine small carpets hid much of the polished parquet floor, and a dozen painted panels adorned the walls; the paintings mostly seemed to involve beautiful people in states of undress. Everywhere were detailed carvings, fine woods, rich textures and colors.
Hanner had seen the overlord’s own bedchamber once; it was not so lush and ornate as this.
“Gods,” he murmured.
Then he realized that Bern had been talking and had stopped. He had asked Hanner a question.
“What?” Hanner asked.
“Breakfast arrangements, my lord,” Bern said. “What shall I do?”
“Do you...” Hanner began, then he remembered some of what Bern had already said. He hadn’t really been listening, but some of it had registered anyway.