Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Unwelcome Warlock

Kolar did not need a second warning; he didn’t know just what to expect, but he immediately clamped his hands over his ears, ducking his head down and hunching his shoulders.

“ People of Ethshar! ” Vond’s voice roared out, so loud that not just his ears, but Kolar’s entire skull seemed to ring. His teeth bit down so tightly they hurt as he tried to shut out the deafening sound. “ I am going to be taking a short break, but rest assured, I’m not done. I will return momentarily, and when I do I will restore the palace to its position above the New City. Any attempt to harm me during my nap will be most unfortunate for anyone involved. ”

The sound rolled out across the city and the sky, and Kolar squeezed his eyes shut as the echoes died away. His head hurt, and he knew that this headache was going to last for awhile.

When he finally opened his eyes again they were flying over the waterfront somewhere; the water below was black and empty, but white lines of surf gleamed as they moved across that darkness. The city was mostly behind them, though he could see docks below, dark gray against the black water.

The palace hung in the sky ahead of them, and for the first time Kolar noticed that some of its windows were lit. Not as many as usual, certainly; most of it appeared dark and deserted. Still, there were at least half a dozen lamps burning. There were people in there. Kolar had seen the carpets and contraptions ferrying people out earlier, and he had assumed they got everyone out, but evidently that was not the case.

But then the palace was descending, sinking gently down through the night air, and Kolar could see where those white lines of surf were breaking on the elongated ovals of the sandbars of the Newmarket Shoals.

This was beginning to make sense. Vond was going to do something about those people who had not returned from the tapestry world, and he didn’t want to worry about keeping the palace airborne while he did it, so he was setting the palace down here – someplace safe but inconvenient, so that the overlord would be that much less tempted to try assassinating the emperor while the palace was on the ground.

But why was he , Kolar, here? And that other man?

The palace settled heavily onto the sandbar, tilting slightly to the north; Kolar imagined that most of the furniture would be falling over or sliding to the lower side of whatever room it was in. He hoped the damage wouldn’t be too extensive.

Then it was down, and Vond whipped around, dragging the two mercenaries in his wake as he headed back toward Warlock House at breathtaking speed.

“You have your swords?” Vond asked.

Kolar put a hand on the hilt of his fine new weapon. “Right here, your Majesty,” he said.

“I trust you know how to use it?”

Kolar swallowed. “Of course, your Majesty.”

He was lying. He had never wielded a sword in his life; he was a longshoreman, not a soldier. He glanced the other man. “My blade is at your service.”

“Where we’re going, my magic may not work,” Vond explained. “Old warlockry didn’t. My power is different, but perhaps not that different. If I am rendered powerless, cut off from my magic, it will be up to the two of you, and your blades, to defend me, and to enforce my orders. This is why I hired you, to protect me when my magic can’t.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Kolar said unhappily. He did not like this. He was fairly certain that the warlock intended to go through that tapestry and take Kolar and the other man along as his bodyguards, and Kolar did not want to go exploring a strange world. He was not happy about the possibility that people had stopped appearing in the attic because the magic that brought them there had stopped working; the three of them might wind up stranded in that other place. He was tempted to say something, but the warlock surely must have thought of that, and he knew far more about magic than Kolar did.

“Serve me well tonight, and you’ll each have a round of gold,” Vond added.

Kolar’s mood brightened considerably at that. A round of gold was more money than he had ever seen in one place in his entire life.

Then they were flying back through the hole in the wall of Warlock House, into the lamplit corridor. Behind them the lath and frame were bending themselves back into place, and the plaster was flowing back to heal the wall. Kolar’s boots thumped down onto the floor.

“This way,” the warlock said, beckoning. As Kolar had thought, they were heading for the tapestry. “Your Majesty, do you really think this is wise?” he asked.

“Maybe not,” Vond said, “but I think it’s necessary. My men have defied me, and stopped sending out those trespassers.”

“Maybe they can’t ,” Kolar suggested. “What if we get trapped there?”

Vond shook his head. “I sent Hanner through there to chase people out, and he didn’t, and I thought maybe he couldn’t. Then when I sent Gerath and the others, they started chasing people out with no problem, so the magic is working fine, whatever it is. But then they stopped, so there must be something over there making people disobey me. Maybe there’s some strange magic involved, or maybe something’s just persuaded them to ignore my instructions, but whatever it is, I can’t allow it. I can’t tolerate disobedience, whether I’m present or not. If I can’t trust anyone else to clear them out, I’ll do it myself.”

“How do you know what’s happening there, though?”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m going, and why you’re coming with me.” He smiled. “Besides, I want to see this other world. I admit it, I’m as curious as anyone, and it might be useful. Even if I don’t have any magic there, I have you and Gerath and the rest.”

“But what if something’s happened to them?”

“Then I need to know about it!”

“Couldn’t you hire a wizard to find out?”

Vond turned to glare at him. “ No , I can’t hire a wizard! The wizards are my enemies; I need to do this myself. I need to prove I’m not afraid, that even without my magic I can still control the situation.”

“But your Majesty, what if you can’t ?”

“I can ,” Vond insisted. “You and the other swordsmen will obey me because you know I’ll pay you when we get back, and some of the former warlocks will obey me because they want their magic back. That should be enough. Now, unless you want me to smash you, come on!”

Kolar still wasn’t convinced, but he did not dare argue with the warlock any further. Reluctantly, he trudged toward the tapestry.

Hanner watched as person after person vanished into the attic tapestry – men, women, and children snatched back to the World. Some went willingly; some had to be dragged, screaming or crying, and flung at the hanging. So far, none of the soldiers had tried to push him through, but he supposed that they would get to him eventually. There weren’t very many of the former warlocks left. Most of the soldiers were out looking for stragglers, to make sure they had not missed anyone; about a dozen refugees were clustered in or near the house.

Hanner had noticed that Rudhira was not among them, but he was not about to mention that to anyone. If she preferred to remain here, Hanner had no objection. There might be others missing, as well, but since he had never kept track of who was in the refuge to begin with, Rudhira was the only one he was sure of. Everyone else he knew had been there was accounted for.

He had also noticed that no one seemed to be reappearing. Apparently the other tapestry was being guarded, or had been rolled up, or destroyed, so that the exiles sent through to the attic were not able to return. Hanner winced inwardly at the thought that Vond might have vaporized that very expensive hanging.