“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. He says the Calling has stopped, and he’s the only warlock left.”
“Is that what happened? There were rumors.”
Sterren smiled wryly. He hadn’t heard any rumors yet, but of course Lar had. Retired or not, he had spent most of his adult life as a spy, and he still seemed to know everything that went on anywhere in Semma. “Yes,” he said. “That does appear to be the case.”
“That’s an interesting situation,” Lar remarked.
“Indeed. I’d like to know what Guildmaster Ithinia thinks of it,” Sterren replied.
“Ithinia? If I may, my lord, why her, in particular?”
“Because I don’t know of a wizard who stands higher in the Guild than she does – I’m sure there are some, but the Guild does not choose to identify them to outsiders. Besides, Ithinia did seem to take quite an interest in imperial affairs when she visited us twelve years ago.”
“Ah,” Lar said.
“I think she should also be informed that apparently there are thousands of former warlocks who have been turned loose in Aldagmor, and may be stranded there.”
“Are there?” Lar asked, raising an eyebrow.
“So I’m told.”
“I’ll see that the news reaches her,” Lar said. “Though by the time I can get word to her, she may well already know all about it.”
“I know, but I think we should make the gesture.”
Lar nodded. “Of course.”
“I’m also curious about whether the Sisterhood has an opinion on Vond’s return.”
Lar nodded. “Anyone else?”
“The Brotherhood, while we’re at it. The Council of Warlocks, if it still exists. The three overlords of the Hegemony. The Cult of Demerchan. Anyone you can think of.”
“Oh – is that how it stands?”
“I’m afraid so. But Ithinia first, I think.”
Lar bowed stiffly. “As you say.”
“Leave as soon as you can.”
“Yes, my lord.” He turned, and walked away, toward the nearest door out of the palace. He didn’t run, as if he were in a hurry, or march, like a man obeying orders, or creep, as if he didn’t want to be seen; he simply walked, like someone who was headed somewhere but wasn’t in a great rush. No one would give him a second glance.
Sterren watched in admiration for a second or two, then hurried down the corridor to the entry hall. Dozens of people were there, milling about or talking in small groups; about half of them were strangers, mostly dressed in black, from the group Vond had brought back with him from Aldagmor. The others were mostly palace staff and imperial officials of one sort or another, with a few confused-looking guards mixed in.
Sterren spotted one of the Council’s messengers and beckoned her aside. She glanced about, then joined him by the wall.
“Yes, my lord?” she asked in Ethsharitic.
“Where’s the emperor?” he asked in Semmat.
She replied in the same tongue, “He and the chamberlain are upstairs, seeing to the accommodations. His old apartments were long ago put to other uses.”
“I know,” Sterren said. “I gave the orders for that myself. So he’s inspecting the palace?”
She nodded.
“Has he said anything about the people he brought with him?” Sterren jerked his head toward a clump of black-clad strangers.
“We are to treat them as honored guests.”
“That’s all?”
“I’m just a messenger, my lord.”
“Thank you.” Sterren patted her on the shoulder, then turned and smiled at one of the strangers.
He smiled warily back, and Sterren strode over to him.
“Welcome to the Vondish Empire!” Sterren said in Ethsharitic, raising a hand in greeting. “I am Lord Sterren.”
“My name is Korl of Cliffgate,” the stranger replied, in an accent that seemed to indicate an origin in Ethshar of the Rocks.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Sterren said. “I understand you are a warlock?”
“Well, I was,” Korl said.
“Yes, I understand the power you drew upon is gone.”
Korl shuddered. “Yes,” he said.
Sterren got the very definite impression that Korl did not care to discuss whatever it was that had departed Aldagmor, and he had no problem with that; he was more interested in matters closer to home. “How did you come to know the emperor?” he asked.
“I don’t know him,” Korl replied. “I mean, I’d heard of him – I was Called a few years after he conquered all those…well, after he conquered here, I guess. But I never met him.”
“Oh? Then if you don’t mind my asking, how do you come to be here?”
“Well, we’d just been freed, and the…the Source had left, and Vond flew up and called for volunteers to come with him, and I raised my hands because I was cold and scared and we were stranded out there in the wilderness at night, with no food or water or magic, and he said he would bring us here and give us important positions. It seemed better than starving or freezing in Aldagmor, or being there if that thing came back.”
“I see,” Sterren said. “Very sensible.”
“Maybe,” Korl said, looking around uneasily. “I’m not sure. No one here was expecting us, and we haven’t gotten any food yet, though they did find us wine and water. No one seems to know where we’re to sleep, or what’s to become of us. Vond hasn’t said what he wants us for. And I have this horrible headache, as if my skull were buzzing. I’d think it was an after-effect of losing my magic, but it didn’t feel like that in Aldagmor.”
“Ah, yes,” Sterren said. “I’ve heard of that. It’s a local effect. It’s said that that was why there were no warlocks here until Vond came – the headaches. They never stop; they just get worse and worse.”
“Really?” Korl looked around. “But then how does Vond stand it? Why does he still have magic at all?”
Sterren feigned surprise. “He hasn’t told you?”
“No. I thought that maybe he would teach the rest of us how we could be warlocks again, but he hasn’t said a word about it.”
“Ah, I suppose he wants to keep the secret for himself,” Sterren said. “As it happens, he was working for me when he found it – that’s why he kept me around, and how I became a lord here. I don’t suppose there are a hundred people in the empire who know about it.”
“What secret?”
Sterren looked around, as if to be sure no one else was listening, then leaned forward. “The headaches were making him utterly miserable, you see, and finally he said something very foolish – he said he would give his soul to make them stop. And apparently he was in the wrong place, or phrased something just right, because a demon heard him, and appeared, and made a bargain with him – in exchange for his soul, Vond would be given enough magical power to shut out the headaches.”
“A demon?”
Sterren nodded. “I can’t say its name; I don’t want to attract its attention.”
“I thought demons wouldn’t touch warlocks.”
That was news to Sterren, but he didn’t let that slow him down. “This one would,” it said. “Maybe it was because we’re so far from Aldagmor here that Vond barely was a warlock anymore.”
Korl did not seem to think much of that theory. “Go on.”
“The deal didn’t work out quite the way either of them expected,” Sterren said. “Apparently it takes a lot of power to shut out the headaches, so much so that Vond was able to use it to build this empire. And Vond thought that having his soul promised to the demon would mean that the Calling couldn’t get him, but it didn’t work out that way. He was Called anyway.” Sterren glanced around. “You know, I hate to suggest it of my own liege lord, but I wonder whether he might have brought you people here to see if he could swap your souls to the demon in place of his own, now that he’s safe from the Calling.”