Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Vondish Ambassador

Ithinia looked around the room, at the five other magicians, the Ethsharitic guardsmen, at Lar and Emmis, and finally at Lord Ildirin, who was sitting straight in his chair, but whose papery skin was red from the sun. "We would be delighted," she said. "And perhaps something to drink, while preparations are made?"

"Drink? Of course," Lady Kalira said. "I will see to it." She turned, gesturing to her escorts, and the three of them marched back out the way they had entered.

Emmis watched them go. "Who is she, exactly?" he asked Lar quietly.

"She is Lord Sterren's second in command," Lar explained. "She is head of the Imperial Council, and runs everything in the Empire that Sterren doesn't want to bother with."

"So is it Lord Sterren or this Council that's actually in charge?"

Lar sighed. "The Council says it's Lord Sterren. Lord Sterren says it's the Council."

Emmis turned to look at his employer. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

"I thought the custom in the Small Kingdoms was to fight over who got to rule, not over who didn't have to."

"It is. But the Emperor didn't want to be bothered with all the details, so he named Lord Sterren his chancellor and let him run things. Lord Sterren said it was too much for him to do alone, so he made the Imperial Council. They were all chosen to be people who knew how to run things but who didn't want to rule; Vond did not want to worry about being overthrown by the Council."

"Oh."

"When Vond went away, Lord Sterren named Lady Kalira as his successor and resigned as chancellor. The Council wanted someone else in charge, so they made Sterren Regent. Now they argue about who is in charge." He turned up a palm. "They agree on almost everything else."

"Why don't they just resign?"

Lar sighed. "If the Regent resigns the Council will declare him guilty of treason. If any councillors resign without the Regent's permission he won't bother with calling them traitors, but he might hang them. So they stay."

"It's ridiculous. Can't they find someone who wants to run the Empire?"

Lar looked at Emmis pityingly. "Would you want someone in charge who wants to be an emperor? They lived under Vond. They saw. No one wants that again."

"But it wouldn't be a warlock!"

"Does that matter?"

"Um." Emmis didn't have a good answer for that. After all, the overlord wasn't a warlock, but his authority was still fairly complete. In theory he ruled because he had the consent of the city's people, but in practice the people were never asked; the overlord could pretty much do anything he pleased. If he ever went mad, or turned out to be incompetent or evil, the other two overlords would remove him – that was the whole point of having a triumvirate rule the Hegemony, so that one bad ruler wouldn't ruin the whole thing – but he could undoubtedly do a lot of damage before that happened.

The Empire of Vond didn't have a triumvirate, or any pretense of popular consent.

"So you didn't say anything to Ithinia about warlocks?" Lar asked, startling Emmis.

"No. But when I asked about the towers' magic she figured out that since I'm working for you, the Empire must be concerned about magic, and the Empire's only important magic was Vond's warlockry, so she put it all together and decided that warlocks mustn't be allowed in Lumeth or Vond."

"Reasonable. She's a smart woman."

"She's a wizard."

"Wizards aren't all smart, Emmis."

"She's a Guildmaster."

"Well, yes, you have a point there."

And that was when the door swung open and a line of servants carrying trays appeared, bringing an assortment of beverages. The two men put their conversation aside to join in the refreshments.

Emmis had just finished a mug of amazingly bad, unpleasantly warm beer when the door opened again and a young man, about his own age, wandered in.

He was dressed in black, with silver embellishments on his shoulders and cuffs – simple but elegant. His hair had been trimmed by someone who was very good at trimming hair, but it, too, was very simple. Back in Ethshar Emmis would have taken him for the son of a noble or wealthy family; here he wasn't sure what to make of him.

Lar, however, had apparently recognized him instantly, and was bowing deeply. Hesitantly, Emmis bowed, as well.

"Who is he?" Emmis whispered.

"That's Lord Sterren," Lar hissed back.

Emmis blinked and almost fell; he jerked up awkwardly out of his bow.

"That's the Regent?" he said. "But he isn't any older than I am!"

It was only when the entire room fell silent and a dozen eyes turned to stare at him that Emmis realized he had spoken aloud. He felt himself redden, but he refused to look away or apologize; he had simply stated the obvious.

Lord Sterren looked at him, obviously amused.

"I'm Sterren," he said, stepping over and holding out a hand. "And yes, I'd say we're of an age, you and I. Who are you?" He spoke Ethsharitic like a native – in fact, Emmis thought he would have sounded right at home in Westgate or the Old Merchants' Quarter.

Emmis took the hand in his own. "Emmis of Shiphaven," he said. "I'm the ambassador's aide."

"Are you? Then you're on my payroll?"

"I suppose I am. Ah… what's the proper way to address you, my lord?"

"Whatever you like. 'My lord' is fine. Care to earn your pay by introducing me around?"

Emmis bowed. "I would be honored." He turned, looked at the gathered magicians and soldiers, then added, "If I can remember everyone myself, that is."

At dinner Emmis found himself seated between Guildmaster Ithinia and Princess Shirrin of Semma, who he was informed was Lord Sterren's fiancйe. She was a lovely young woman in her late teens; Emmis thought she was perhaps a bit young for Sterren, but that was the Regent's concern, not his.

She also had a tendency to giggle that Emmis did not find endearing, but perhaps Lord Sterren did.

Sterren was seated on Ithinia's other side, and for the first part of the meal the two of them spoke at some length. Emmis was not deliberately eavesdropping, but they weren't being particularly quiet, so he listened to their discussion between sips of wine.

His earlier beer had convinced him to switch to the grape at dinner, and he was glad he had; the vintage, he was informed by the wine steward, was a fine one, from Dwomor. Emmis knew very little about wine, but he knew this one tasted very good and went well with the pastries and roast chicken he was served.

As they ate Ithinia explained the Guild's demands to Sterren, and the Regent seemed very pleased with them.

"No invasions either way? We can't touch Lumeth, and they can't touch us?" he asked.

"Exactly. We'll have journeymen putting up wards all along the border in a sixnight or so."

"And you've given Ashthasa assurances we won't invade?"

"Unless provoked. We don't intend to interfere with your right to defend yourselves."

"I'm delighted to hear it. I don't suppose you could talk to the kings of Kalithon and Nushasla?"

"I'm afraid you'll need to do your own diplomacy there, my lord."

"And Shassalla, and Hurla, and Trozdossa, and Ethirillion?"

Ithinia spread her hands, a fork in one of them. "Not our concern, my lord. Though we have declared warlocks unwelcome in Shassalla and Kalithon."

"As well as in Lumeth and throughout the Empire."

"And in Gajamor, Calimor, Yaroia, Zenda, and Eknissamor."

Sterren smiled crookedly. "I'm not even sure where all of those are," he said. "It's taken me three years just to learn our eighteen provinces and our eight neighbors."

"They're Lumeth's neighbors. Well, Eknissamor doesn't actually share a border with Lumeth, but it's close enough to the north that we included it."

"That's a great relief, and you will have my full support. If any of the Imperial Council object, I'll be happy to remove them."