Part 43 (2/2)

”I think .. .” Naral began.

He didn't finish the sentence; as he spoke the earth suddenly shook, and a tremendous roaring rilled the air. Soldiers tumbled to the ground. Hanner watched in astonishment as the surface of the street rose up into a mound, sending guardsmen rolling away to every side.

The disturbance was contained in a small area, though-Hanner could see that while Warlock House and its immediate neighbor to the east were shaking, as was the house directly across High Street, thebuildings on the far side of Coronet Street or farther along High Street were still and solid.

This was not, then, a natural earthquake.

The mound rose higher and grew wider until it stood perhaps eight feet high and twenty feet across, filling the street from the iron fence in front of the dooryard of Warlock House almost to the front of the house across the street; then it split open. A fissure began near the top on the side facing Hanner, quickly stretched vertically, and then widened. The two halves of the mound fell away, crumbling to dust and sinking back into the street.

And where the mound had been stood half a dozen wizards, in their finest robes, each with a gleaming dagger in his or her right hand, and a six-foot staff in the left.

The rumbling stopped and the dust settled, leaving the wizards standing silently in a cleared circle of street, scattered guardsmen lying strewn about them.

Hanner recognized all the wizards' faces from the meeting in that mysterious columned hall. He smiled wryly. He still didn't know why the wizards had appeared, here and now, but he was impressed.

”They certainly know how to make an entrance,” he said, to no one in particular.

Captain Naral had caught himself against the gatepost and stayed on his feet; now he turned to face the wizards and demanded, ”What are you people doing here?”

Hanner couldn't fault the captain's courage; not many men would shout like that at a group of wizards who had just manifested themselves so spectacularly.

”We have come to prevent Lord Azrad from making a mistake,” Ithinia of the Isle announced, raising her staff. ”The Wizards' Guild recognizes the Council of Warlocks as our equal in rights and privileges under the ancient laws of Ethshar, and as the rightful governing body of all warlocks. The overlord has no more authority to exile the Council from this city, nor to destroy its headquarters, than to exileus, or destroy our homes.”

Captain Naral looked quickly at Hanner, then back at the wizards.

”Oh,” he said.

Hanner cleared his throat. ”In light of this new development, Captain,” he said, ”perhaps you might take it upon yourself to return to the Palace and ask Lord Azrad to reconsider your orders.”

”I think that's an excellent suggestion, my lord,” Naral replied.

Hanner didn't bother correcting him this time.

As Naral turned to go an old man shouted at the wizards, ”Are you all mad? The warlocks stole my son!”

One of the wizards raised her staff and gestured, then spoke.

”Kennan of the Crooked Smile,” she said, ”your son Aken was not taken by warlocks. Aken was a warlock himself, and was drawn to his doom in Aldagmor by the same power that draws all warlocks.Go home and tend to your son's family, not to some misdirected vengeance.”

Kennan's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He blinked, backed away a step, then turned without another word and began marching away.

Hanner watched him go and saw that the other watchers who had haunted High Street were starting to scatter as well.

”Thank you,” he said to the party of wizards. ”As one magician to another, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

Chapter Forty-five.

Negotiations with wizards were always a challenge, but in the end Hanner thought he got a fair price for the fortune in wizardly supplies and artifacts that Uncle Faran had stored away. That turned out to be the easy part.

Finding sorcerers who would pay decently for the talismans on the fourth floor took a few sixnights. The various shrines, altars, and pentacles turned out to have no inherent magic at all-Alladia explained to Hanner that shrinesnever did, that wasn't how the G.o.ds worked, and demons presumably operated on similar principles-so they brought relatively little, and as many of them wound up going to wealthy neighbors to decorate their homes as went to theurgists or demonologists for serious use.

Hanner didn't get so much as a bra.s.s bit for the stores of herbs; the herbalists he talked to weren't interested, since many of the plants hadn't been stored properly or were simply too old to be trusted.

One old woman finally agreed to clean out the entire store in exchange for whatever she found useful.

And then there were the things that Hanner couldn't identify- dozens of a.s.sorted statues, a collection of notched sticks, several ordinary bricks marked with numbers written in black wax, un-labeled jars of brown goo, stones carved into unrecognizable shapes, lumps of dried fungus, various machines built of gears and springs that didn't appear to do anything, and so on. Faran had labeled and organized most of his collection, but several items had remained completely anonymous, and some of the labels on others were hopelessly cryptic; Manner had no idea, for example, why Faran had tagged a chunk of rock ”Under G. 4996,” or written ”Red Glow” on a jar of seawater. A glance through his uncle's notebooks convinced Hanner that Faran had been trying to find a unifying theory forall schools of magic and had collected objects he thought might have magical properties not yet recognized by any of the existing schools, but how he had made some of his selections remained a mystery. In the end Hanner gave up the idea of being able to use the entire house and shoved all this unsold detritus into four rooms at the back of the top floor. He hoped that someday some scholar more gifted than himself might want to sort through it all and continue Faran's research.

That left three and a half floors for the use of the Council of Warlocks, and for Hanner's own home.

The proceeds from selling the collection were enough to furnish the upper stories and to commission a generous supply of black clothing from the weavers in the Old Merchants' Quarter, with a goodly sum left over. Hanner offered this surplus as loans to warlocks who wanted to set up shop-preferably in the Wizards' Quarter, with the other magicians. There were a few shops available for sale and rent-some of them shops vacated by magicians or other tradesmen who had vanished on the Night of Madness.

Hanner accompanied Ulpen and Sheila in negotiating the purchase of one such shop, to provide an adult presence, and was pleased to see how cooperative the sellers were. He knew that a sixnight earlier they would never have been willing to sell to warlocks, but the Wizards' Guild had been effective-and surprisingly enthusiastic-in spreading the word that the hundreds who vanished had been warlocks, not the victims of warlocks.

The existence of the Council of Warlocks, and its a.s.surance that its member warlocks were bound by the same laws as everyone else, also helped. That the Council had sent warlocks to help in rebuilding homes and shops wrecked on the Night of Madness helped even more.

This activity made the Council visible, and new warlocks appeared steadily in response, eager to sign up, transforming Manner's creation from theory to reality. Three rooms on the ground floor of Warlock House had been converted into a school and office where these newly arrived warlocks were taught the Council's rules and questioned about any crimes they might have committed. Those who were deemed acceptable then swore the Council's oath and were given a black tunic and a doc.u.ment recording their admission to the Council.

Those who were not found acceptable were turned over to the city magistrates or ordered into exile-and in some cases forcibly flown over the city wall.

As yet, the Council had not had to kill anyone. Hanner suspected that couldn't last forever, especially since the triumvirate had agreed that the single Council of Warlocks would, when it was able, have authority over the entire Hegemony of the Three Eth-shars, and not merely Ethshar of the Spices. He had already approved subchairmen to organize the Council's offices in Ethshar of the Rocks and Ethshar of the Sands.

He found it odd to realize that he, useless Hanner, the lordling who had never found a proper place for himself in the overlord's service, was on his way to becoming master of perhaps the third most powerful organization in the World, after the Wizards' Guild and the Hegemony itself.

All in all, by the end of the month of Summerheat matters seemed to have settled down and turned out about as well as he could have expected.

Hanner's confidence had not yet grown to the point, however, that the summons to the Palace failed to worry him.

He looked at the message thoughtfully. It was politely written, but very definite-the presence of Hanner, Chairman of the Council of Warlocks, was requested in the Great Hall of Audience in the Palace of the Overlord of Ethshar of the Spices at four hours after noon on the first day of Summersend, in the FiveThousand Two Hundred and Second Year of Human Speech.

Hanner knew well that the overlord would never have sent Ithinia such a message, naming an exact time and date; he would have requested her to arrange for an audience at her earliest convenience. To accept this directive without quibble would mean acknowledging that he was not Ithinia's equal in rank, and she was merely the senior wizard in the city, while he was theoretically the senior warlockanywhere.

But realistically, arguing with it would be stupid and arrogant.

”Tell the messenger to tell Lord Azrad I will be there,” he said, dropping the message on his writing table.

”Yes, sir,” Ilvin said, raising a spread-fingered hand to his chest in the odd salute some of the warlocks seemed to have picked up as a mark of respect. He turned and hurried out of the room.

Hanner stared after him. Ilvin was still not at all a powerful warlock, but he had proven to have a talent for getting things done around the Council's headquarters; Bern was still in charge of the kitchens, but Ilvin had taken over most of the other household administration. He was very useful indeed.

Desset, meanwhile, who remained the most powerful warlock in the city, was virtually useless-she struggled constantly to not use her magic, and even so frequently had various small objects floating around her. Her nightmares grew steadily worse, and she had begun to spend long stretches of the day sitting in the garden staring northward.

Hanner had hoped that inaction might cause warlockry to atrophy and the danger of the Calling to recede, but apparently it didn't work that way. He repeatedly advised Desset to pack up a few things and move south, out of the city and farther from Al-dagmor, but she was unable to bring herself to do so.

He even spoke to Ithinia about the possibility of providing some sort of magical refuge, like that meeting hall, but while Ithinia promised to mention it to the Inner Circle, she also told him he would have a better chance of convincing them to spend the next hundred years standing on their heads. The Guild did not do favors for anyone, not even wizards, without an ulterior motive.

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