Part 17 (1/2)

”Captain.”

Vengar reached for Faran's arm. ”If you would come with me, my lord,” he said nervously.

Faran looked at the soldier's familiar worried face, then back at Azrad, sitting up straight, eyes wide, for the first time in years. He looked at the tapestried walls, the tessellated stone floor, that symbolized the wealth and power of the triumvirate that ruled the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars.

It was too soon to fight openly. He was the only warlock in the Palace, and there were at least a hundred guards on hand, not counting the company out in the square and leaving the building's other inhabitants out of consideration. He did not know just how strong his magic actually was-he had been telling himself there were no limits, but he had not had a chance to test the truth of that. Since the overlord's immediate decree, the moment he heard of the troubles the night before, that no warlocks were to be permitted in the Palace, Faran had had to hide his abilities, and what with the crisis demanding his attention he had had no opportunities to experiment in private.

”Lord Azrad,” he said, making one more try, ”I am no threat...”

”Out!”Azrad bellowed, rising to his feet and pointing. ”Get out of my home, traitor!”

Stung, Faran glared silently for a moment longer, then whirled back to the door.

”Lead the way, Captain,” he said. ”I will leave it to others to try to talk sense to the overlord.” He stalked out.

A moment later he paused in the central hallway and asked, ”Captain, may I send for my belongings later? I'll provide a list of what I need, and my niece Nerra will attend to locating it all.”

”I'll have to check with the overlord, Lord Faran,” Vengar said. ”I'm sure you understand.”

”Of course,” Faran replied. ”Of course. I'll send a messenger to inquire when I've settled into my new quarters.”

Vengar hesitated. ”My lord,” he said, ”are you really a warlock?”

Faran gazed at the soldier, then smiled a crooked little smile.

”Yes, I am,” he said. It was a relief to admit it openly and put an end to pretense.

It was with an oddly light heart that he marched out the door onto the bridge, into the slanting sunlight of the afternoon.

Chapter Eighteen.

Hanner had spotted a familiar face in the crowd, and after much shoving-with both hands and magic-he had finally reached her side.

”What areyou doing here?” he asked.

Mavi turned, startled. ”Lord Hanner!” she said. ”I didn't expect to seeyou out here! I thought you'd be inside with the others.”

Hanner grimaced. ”Icould say that was your fault,” he said. ”I didn't make it back in time last night, after I saw you home, and I've been locked out by the overlord's edict. Alris is locked out, too.”

”That applies toyou} But youlive there!”

”Lord Azrad makes no exceptions,” Hanner replied. ”What about you, though-are you all right? Was anyone in your family hurt?”

”Oh, we're fine,” Mavi said quickly. ”There was some disturbance, certainly, and I didn't sleep at all well, due to the shouting and so on, but n.o.body troubled us. I heard all the neighbors talking, though, so I thought I'd come up here to see what was happening.”

”Not very much, from what I can see,” Hanner said. Then someone b.u.mped against him, and he turned to find that Rudhira had finally worked her way through the crowd, caught up with him, and shoved her way up to his side.

”Who is this?” Rudhira asked.

”Ah,” Hanner said. He spread his hands as best he could in the crowded circ.u.mstances. ”Rudhira of Camptown, this is Mavi of Newmarket. She's a friend-a friend of my sister Nerra, I mean.”

”Pleased to meet you,” Rudhira said, though she did not look especially pleased. ”Hanner, why are we here? They aren't saying anything new.”

”You don't have to stay,” Hanner told her, a trifle resentfully. ”You can go home or go back to Uncle Faran's house.”

”Uncle Faran's house?” Mavi asked, puzzled. ”But your uncle lives in the Palace.”

”He has a house on High Street, as well,” Hanner explained. ”That's where Alris and I are staying until the guards let us back in.”

”Oh, I a.s.sumed you'd found an inn.”

”I didn't need to ...” ”We wouldn't all havefit at an inn!” Rudhira interrupted.

”We?” Mavi asked, puzzled.

”I collected a group of people to help out last night,” Hanner explained. ”Rudhira was one of them.”

Othisen was approaching as well; Hanner pointed him out and said, ”And Othisen Okko's son was another. Most of the rest have gone home now, but these two stayed.”

”Icould have helped!” Mavi said. ”You should have come to get me!”

”Are you a warlock?” Rudhira demanded, before Hanner could reply. Hanner raised a hand to hush her.

”No, of course not,” Mavi said.

”Weare,” Rudhira said, gesturing at herself and Othisen. ”Lord Hanner found us in the Wizards'

Quarter-we were trying to figure out what had happened to us, and he came and told us to help him stop thebad warlocks.”

At that, a stranger in the crowd turned and stared. ”What did you say?” she asked.

”Did you say you're a warlock?” another said.

”A warlock? Here?”

Hanner looked around worriedly and quickly threw a protective arm around Mavi. Several faces were turning toward them, and Rudhira was standing defiantly, hands on her hips, glaring back at them all.

”We werehelping,” she said. ”Lord Hanner invoked the overlord's name and told us to help, and we did! We've just come from turning four of the warlocks who went smas.h.i.+ng things over to a magistrate!”

Mavi threw Hanner an uncertain glance.

”I'll explain later,” he said. ”Right now, I think we should-”

The end of his sentence was drowned out by a sudden roar from the crowd, followed by a hush. Hanner turned, startled, trying to see what had happened.

The palace door had opened, and a figure had emerged onto the bridge, a figure dressed in a magnificent green velvet cloak that was probably swelteringly uncomfortable in the summer heat.