Sterren had been expecting this realization. He had long ago concluded that kings were no happier than anybody else. Furthermore, he had noticed that for some time now, Vond had only seemed really comfortable and alert when using huge amounts of magic, as if warlockry were an addictive drug. When the warlock finally confessed his disappointment, late one night in a quiet torchlit arcade overlooking the palace courtyard, Sterren simply nodded and agreed, without comment. “You don’t seem surprised,” Vond said, irritably.
“I’m not,” Sterren said. “I never thought ruling looked like much fun.”
The warlock settled more deeply into the sling chair he sat upon. “It isn’t,” he growled, “but it should be.”
“Why?” Sterren asked.
“Because I want it to be,” Vond snapped.
Sterren made no reply.
After a moment of disgruntled silence, Vond said, “I just won’t do it any more.”
“Won’t do what?”
“I won’t deal with all these petty details, who owns what, how to punish this thief or reward that soldier, where to put the roads, how to collect the taxes, how much coin to mint, I won’t do it.”
“Someone has to,” Sterren pointed out, “or your empire will fall apart.”
“I don’t have to. You do. You’re my chancellor, aren’t you? I just decided what that means, it’s your job to take care of anything I don’t want to be bothered with.” Vond smiled an unusually unpleasant smile. “I’ll announce it in the morning; you’ll be in charge of the administration of the empire. I’ll take care of what I’m good at, building and conquest.”
Sterren had hoped and feared this might happen. After all, he was the only person Vond trusted. To all the native inhabitants of his empire, the warlock was something of a monster, alien and inhumanly powerful, conquering entire kingdoms in a single day; none of them could speak to him without fear, and he dealt with them, in general, with contempt. Besides, very few were really fluent in Ethsharitic, and Vond had not yet bothered to learn any other tongues. Warlockry, unlike witchcraft, did nothing at all to enhance his linguistic abilities. Warlockry was a purely physical sort of magic; it could not teach.
The other magicians were less contemptible than the ordinary citizens, but still did not provide very good company for the new emperor. From the start, both Annara and Ederd had held back visibly, refusing to speak openly with Vond, and he had noticed this reticence. Agor’s Ethsharitic was an impediment, and his eccentric behavior, cultivated since childhood to add to an aura of mystery, was another.
That left Sterren as Vond’s only friend, the only person he could talk with as one human to another, and despite Vond’s denials, Sterren was quite sure that the warlock was miserably lonely.
He had expected other warlocks to come and join him, and was growing ever more confused and dismayed at their failure to materialize. This drove him, more and more, to talk away long hours with Sterren.
Sterren was no warlock; he was unnaturally lucky with dice, but otherwise could barely stir a cat’s whisker with his magic. Still, he had known Vond when Vond was powerless, he knew something about how warlockry functioned, and he was not cowed by the imperial might. That made him an invaluable companion.
And Sterren had guessed that it might in time make him Vond’s partner in empire, as well.
Now that that guess had come true, he was ready. This was an opportunity far too good to miss. He could do far more to prevent tyranny if he were himself involved in governing.
He had seen, over the last few months, that Vond’s decisions, as emperor, tended to be quick and careless. He did not concern himself with right or wrong, with what would be best for those involved, but only with what was most expedient, what would settle matters most quickly, rather than most equitably.
Now he could change that.
He had no illusions about his own governing ability, however. He knew himself well enough to suspect that he, too, would opt for expediency after a few boring days.
“I’ll accent that on one condition,” he said.
Vond looked at him sharply. “Who are you, to be setting conditions?” he demanded.
“I’m your Lord Chancellor, your Imperial Majesty,” Sterren replied mildly.
Vond could hardly deny that, but he was not so easily soothed. “What condition?” he demanded.
“That I may delegate my authority as I please,” Sterren said, “Because as I said, I never thought ruling looked like fun, and I don’t want to be saddled with the job either. I don’t mind doing a share, certainly, but I don’t want to spend my days divvying up strayed cattle any more than you do.”
Vond considered this. “Fair enough,” he said. The next morning Vond set out to conquer Hluroth, and Sterren set out to establish the Imperial Council.
CHAPTER 34
The Chancellor’s Guard came in handy on occasion; it had saved Sterren a good deal of trouble to simply tell Alder, “Take as many men as you need, but I want Lady Kalira of Semma here in an hour.”
Then all he had to do was sit in his chosen room, a small study on the second floor of Semma Castle, and wait; an hour later, Lady Kalira glared at him across the table.
“I’m here,” she said without preamble. “What do you want?”
Sterren noted, with hope and admiration, that she did not call him a traitor or otherwise insult him. “Your help,” he said.
Her angry glare softened to curiosity. “What sort of help?” she demanded warily. “In running the empire.”
“Empire!” She snorted.
Sterren shrugged, using both the Ethsharitic shoulder bob and the Semman gesture of spread fingers and a downturned palm. “Call it what you like,” he said. “Like it or not, the warlock has united several kingdoms now, I can’t say how many since he’s in the process of adding at least one more even as we speak, and I think I can call it an empire.” He had had plenty of time to improve his Semmat in recent months, and spoke it easily now. “I didn’t come here to argue about names,” he concluded.
“Maybe I did, though,” Lady Kalira retorted.
“I hope not,” Sterren said.
For a moment neither spoke. Then Lady Kalira said, “All right, what’s your offer?”
“You know Vond named me chancellor,” Sterren said.
“Whatever that means,” she answered, nodding.
“He’s just decided that it means I’m to take care of all the administrative details that he doesn’t want to bother with,” Sterren explained.
Lady Kalira considered this, then smiled. “And I suppose,” she said, “that you intend to palm the job off on me.”
“Not exactly,” Sterren said. “But I admit you’re close. I want you to tell me who I should pass it on to.”
“Should?”
“Yes, should. Who could do the best job of it, and who would do the best job of it. I know I’d botch it.”
“You do?” She eyed him carefully.
He nodded.
“I think you’ll need to tell me a little more of what you had in mind,” she said.
“What I had in mind,” Sterren told her, “is an Imperial Council, a group of the best administrators we can find, who would actually run the empire. Vond isn’t particularly interested in doing that, and neither am I. Besides, Vond isn’t going to be around for all that long, and I don’t suppose I’ll be very welcome once he’s gone. A group of well-respected natives would be able to keep things going smoothly, regardless of what Vond and I do.”