“That’s all very well,” Lord Tollern told her, “but you can’t spend the city’s entire treasury on this.”
“Why not?” Sarai demanded.
“Because we need it for other things, as well. Oh, I don’t deny that this conspiracy is dangerous, Lady Sarai, I don’t deny it at all, not for a moment. But it isn’t the only danger that old Ederd has to worry about. What good will it do to stop these mysterious magical murderers, if it allows common thieves to run amok, or we let the walls fall into ruin, or the harbor silt up so that no ships can dock?” “I’m not spending that much!” Sarai protested. “No,” Tollern admitted, “but this isn’t anything we’ve budgeted for, you see. My dear, can’t you find some way to settle this whole matter quickly?”
“How?” Sarai asked. “I’m doing the best I can, but I can’t even get the Wizards’ Guild to talk to me.” “My dear Lady Sarai, you’re Minister of Investigation and Acting Minister of Justice; surely you can order them to talk to you, in the name of our beloved Ederd the Fourth. Even the Wizards’ Guild would not be quick to refuse a command from the overlord himself. Defy one of the triumvirs of the Hegemony? That’s a risky business, even for a magician.”
Sarai hesitated. She knew the treasurer was technically correct, but she hadn’t dared to directly invoke the overlord’s name before. Any power used too often was power wasted, and she knew that Ederd did not take kindly to those who called upon his authority too freely. Up until now, people had cooperated willingly—or had been intimidated much more easily; as Shirith had pointed out, most citizens did not care to argue with soldiers sent by one of the government ministers. “I’ll think about it,” she replied.
The following day she sent not a lone messenger, but a squad commanded by a lieutenant, to order the Council of Warlocks, in the name of Ederd, Overlord of Ethshar, to wait upon the Minister of Investigation in the Great Council Chamber, at a time to be mutually agreed upon.
The reply arrived that same evening; the meeting was held the following day.
She prepared for the meeting in her family’s apartments, gathering her wits and her notes, trying not to look at her father as he lay unconscious in his bed. This time, acting in the overlord’s name, there would be no pretense of privacy or informality; she wore the attire of a Minister of Justice.
It occurred to her, as she made the turn into the broad marble passage that led from the outer apartments into the central mass of the palace, that she should have arranged for attendants to accompany her—when she entered the justice chamber in her lather’s place she was always preceded by Chanden the bailiff and Okko the theurgist and a couple of guardsmen and followed by the door guards. The overlord himself, when entering a room on official business, might have a retinue of anywhere from a handful of bodyguards to a parade of a hundred soldiers and officials. As Minister of Investigation, Sarai realized, she was surely entitled to bring a couple of guards and her chief of staff, Captain Tikri.
She couldn’t very well bring Okko, since as before, he and Mereth were to spy on the meeting, but some guards would have been a good idea.
Well, she wouldn’t worry about it. She had put Tikri in charge of arranging seating and keeping an eye on the warlocks, so he wouldn’t be available in any case.
When she reached the council chamber there were guards posted outside the door—Tikri’s work, of course. One stood on either side of the gilded archway; each was a big man, in his best uniform of mustard yellow tunic and bright red kilt, and each carried a gold-shod spear with a very nasty, practical-looking barbed head. At the sight of Lady Sarai they snapped to attention and thumped their heavy spears on the stone floor.
They did not, however, open the door; Sarai hesitated.
As she did, a small door in the side of the passage opened, and a servant in the overlord’s livery stepped out.
“Lady Sarai,” he said, bowing low. “Just a moment, and we’ll have your way prepared.”
Sarai blinked. Tikri had apparently been more thorough than she had expected. “Is everyone here?” she asked.
The servant said, “We have twenty people here who have identified themselves as the Council of Warlocks. That’s all I know, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Sarai said. “What needs to be prepared, then?”
“You’ll have to ask Captain Tikri, my lady.” Before she could ask another question she heard footsteps and turned to find a party approaching. Captain Tikri was in the lead, with half a dozen soldiers in gleaming breastplates marching at his heels, while two minor palace officials hurried alongside.
It appeared that even if she hadn’t thought of providing an entourage, Tikri had. “Are you ready, my lady?” Tikri asked. Sarai, smiling, nodded. Two soldiers stepped forward and flung open the doors; one of the officials stepped in and proclaimed loudly, “Stand and obey! Behold the Lady Sarai, Minister of Investigation and Acting Minister of Justice to Ederd the Fourth, Overlord of Ethshar of the Sands, Triumvir of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars, Commander of the Holy Armies and Defender of the Gods! Bow to the overlord’s chosen representative!”
He stepped aside, and two other soldiers marched in and up to the low dais at the far end. Lady Sarai, picking up her cue, followed them; behind her came the other official, Tikri, and the two remaining guards.
The two who had opened the doors now closed them, from the inside, and took up positions as guards, while the official who had announced her hurried around the side of the room.
Sarai walked slowly up the aisle, keeping her eyes straight ahead, but she still got a good look at her audience.
All of them wore the monochromatic robes and peculiar hats that had somehow become the accepted occupational garb for magicians of every sort; for most of them, the single color was black, but she saw one in red velvet, one in dark green, and two in shades of blue. There were old men and youths, ancient crones and handsome young women. She saw a few familiar faces, but mostly strange ones.
And all of them bowed, as ordered. Lord Tollem had been right; they were cowed.
At least, for the moment.
She reached the dais and made her way to the center; there she turned and faced the crowd, waiting while her entourage took up positions around her.
The official who had announced her had now made his way around the room to one of the front corners; he bellowed, “By courtesy of the Lady Sarai, you may be seated!”
It wasn’t really very different from presiding over her father’s court, once she got started—right down to listening to feeble excuses.
“I swear, my lady, we had every intention of meeting with you,” the chairman insisted—Vengar the Warlock, he called himself, and Sarai did not recall ever meeting him or hearing his name before this. “It was simply a matter of logistics; there are twenty of us, after all, each with his or her own schedule, each with his or her own concerns, and coordinating such a meeting...”He didn’t finish the sentence; instead, he said, “We had not realized the importance you attached to it. We have nothing to tell you as a group that we have not told your agents separately; none of us are involved in these killings; and at any rate, the deaths have stopped, have they not?” He glanced uneasily at the door guards, and asked, “Or have there been others we were not informed of?”
“There have been none of these killings reported for three sixnights,” Sarai confirmed. “However, there could be more at any time, and the overlord’s government cannot tolerate such things.”