"Will she be able to step into it if she's carrying the Black Dagger?" Heremon asked.
"And if we're going to get her to step into a Transporting Tapestry," Tobas asked, "do we need all the rigamarole about the dead area? What happened to that one that had the stars wrong, Guildmaster? If we could get her to step into that, we'd have however many decades you said it would be until she came out again…"
"I don't think a tapestry will work on the Black Dagger," Heremon said. "You might wind up permanently ruining the tapestry."
"And I don't think Tabaea's likely to step into one in the first place," Mereth said.
"I think we'd better come up with something else," Tobas said.
"Why don't we all take a little time to think about it?" Heremon suggested. "We can meet back here in a few hours, after we've had a chance to come up with more ideas."
"And meanwhile," Mereth said, "I can see what Lady Sarai wants."
With that, the wizards arose and scattered, the meeting adjourned.
CHAPTER 33
J. o all appearances, Lady Sarai of Ethshar was no more.
In her place, a young woman with a face broader, darker, and less distinctive than Sarai's, wearing as nondescript an outfit as Mereth could provide, had wandered into the palace, where she roamed the wide marble passageways, gaping-or pretending to do so-at the splendors of the place.
No one who encountered this slack-jawed young woman would be likely to connect her with the ousted aristocrats, or to suspect her of spying; and in fact, none of the dozens of vagabonds and scoundrels who did encounter her even noticed her. She was just another refugee from the Wall Street Field, come to live in the corridors of the palace.
Sarai was pleased. The disguise worked very well indeed; she owed Algarin of Longwall a debt for this-or at the very least, she would forgive him his earlier offenses.
She had first asked Mereth to help, but Mereth had been unable to oblige; she simply didn't know a suitable spell. It had been a surprise when Algarin, hearing what Sarai wanted, had volunteered his services.
But then, the alteration of her features was probably not the most valuable thing she had received from the wizards, and it had been Mereth, rather than Algarin, who told Sarai a good deal of what the wizards had discussed after sending Sarai and the others out of the Guildhouse.
She had not revealed any Guild secrets, of course, nor had Sarai asked her to. She had, however, confirmed what Sarai had already suspected from her inadvertent eavesdropping-Tabaea's power derived originally from a single wizardry artifact: a black dagger. She appeared to have no true command of wizardry, as she had not been seen to use any other spells, but she had used the dagger somehow to steal other sorts of magic.
Tabaea might not have really mastered those other magicks, though.
Mereth had also spoken, with some scorn, of the various plans the wizards had suggested for dealing with Tabaea. Sarai knew that they did not have any simple counterspell for the Black Dagger, nor any simple means of killing or disarming Tabaea. The Guild might yet devise something, but as yet, Mereth told her, they had not.
That somehow didn't surprise Sarai much. The Wizards' Guild was very, very good at some things, but in this case they seemed to be completely out of their depth.
But then, so was everybody else, Sarai herself included. As she roamed the sadly transformed halls of the palace, Sarai could see that plainly. Even the conquerors, the city's outcasts, didn't seem comfortable with the new situation. They had not moved into the palace as if they were the new aristocracy, but rather as if it were a temporary shelter, a substitute for the Wall Street Field; it was with a curious mixture of annoyance and amazed relief that Sarai discovered that for the most part, the invaders had not dared to intrude on any of the private apartments or bedrooms. Her own family's rooms were untouched, as were most of the others that had been abandoned, and those courtiers and officials who had remained behind were, for the most part, undisturbed.
Instead the newcomers were camped in the corridors, the stairways, the audience chambers, and the meeting rooms. They had no beds, but slept on carpets, blankets, stolen draperies', or tapestries taken from the walls; they did not take their meals in the dining halls, but wherever they could scrounge food, eating it on the spot. The palace servants sometimes brought trays through the passages, handing out tidbits.
There was no organization at all; the people simply sat wherever they chose and moved when the urge struck them. They chatted with one another, played at dice and finger games, and, Sarai saw with disgust, stole one another's belongings whenever someone's back was turned. These were the new rulers of the city? After a tour of the palace that took her slightly more than two hours, however, Sarai found herself in the Great Hall, watching Tabaea at work, and realized that here were the real rulers of the city. The people in the corridors below were parasites, hangers-on, like the lesser nobility of old.
Still, she was not particularly impressed with what she saw. Tabaea held court as if she were settling arguments between unruly children-which was often appropriate, Sarai had to admit, but not always. And she didn't have the sense to delegate anything; no one seemed to be screening out the frivolous cases. Tabaea was serving as overlord, and as her own Minister of Justice, and half a dozen other roles as well.
Sarai watched as Tabaea heard a dispute between an old woman and the drunkard she claimed had stolen her blanket; as she received a representative of the Council of Warlocks who wanted to know her intentions, and whether she acknowledged killing Inza the Apprentice, and if so whether she intended to make reparations; and as she listened to a delegation of merchants from Grandgate Market who were upset about the absence of the city guard.
Tabaea gave the drunkard to the count of three to return the blanket; his failure to meet this deadline got him a broken hand as the empress forcibly removed the blanket.
She freely admitting killing Inza, but claimed that it was a matter of state and no reparations or apologies would be forthcoming; furthermore, she saw no need to tell anyone of her plans, especially not a bunch of warlocks. They could wait and see, like everyone else, or consult fortune-telling wizards or theurgists-but no, she wasn't holding any particular grudge, and they were free to stay in Ethshar of the Sands and operate as they always had, so long as they didn't annoy her. The warlocks' representative was not especially pleased by this, but he had little choice; he had to accept it. When she dismissed him, he bowed and departed without further argument.
As for the merchants, she asked if there had been any increase in theft or vandalism in the guards' absence.
"I don't know," the spokesman admitted, as his companions eyed one another uneasily.
"Not yet," one of the others muttered; Tabaea clearly heard him, however.
"You think the thieves will be bolder in the future, perhaps?" Tabaea asked, her tone challenging.
For a moment, no one replied, and a hush fell on the room. The delegates shifted their feet uneasily, looking at one another and stealing glances at the empress. At last, one spoke up, far more courageously than Sarai would ever have expected.
"I think that at the moment, all the thieves in the city are here in the palace," he said. "And when they either finish looting the place, or they realize they aren't going to get a chance to loot it, they'll be back out in the market."
"And what if they find they don't have to loot it?" Tabaea shot back. "What if they find that the new government here is more generous than the old, and that anyone can have a decent living without being forced to steal?"