Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Unwelcome Warlock

Hanner almost wished he could sleep, but after staying up the entire night before, and then sleeping away most of the day here in the village, he was wide awake. The unmoving sun here did not provide any of the visual cues that might have helped him to get back on a normal schedule; quite the contrary, in fact. Combine that with the stress of his situation, and sleep was not a possibility, and after awhile he gave up any attempt to doze. He asked the waking guards a few questions every so often, but for the most part he sat quietly, watching, listening, and thinking.

Ever since he woke up in Aldagmor he had been reacting to events, doing what seemed to need doing, and never really stopping to think. He had led the Called warlocks as best he could, trying to guide them to safety, but then he had been snatched back to Ethshar by the wizards. Ithinia had hired him, more or less, to keep the former warlocks in line – he had not done very much in that regard, really, but why had he agreed to do it at all? It had been expedient, but was it really the right thing to do? The wizards had helped him, so he had been inclined to help them in return, but why should he side with the Wizards’ Guild against other warlocks? Ithinia said they were dangerous, and they probably were potentially dangerous – certainly Vond was a real threat. But would Vond have been so very dangerous if Ithinia and her coterie hadn’t attacked him? Sending a false Calling nightmare had only made Vond more dangerous, by making him angry.

Perhaps reasons no longer mattered; however it had happened, Vond was now extremely dangerous – at least, when he was in Ethshar. Pulling the overlord’s palace out of the ground and holding it over the city – that was insane .

At least if that man Kolar was to be believed, Vond had put the palace down safely before stepping through the tapestry, rather than letting it fall; Hanner had eventually gotten up the nerve to ask about that. True, the emperor had put it down on a sandbar, and not back where it belonged, but it was better than dropping it on the New City.

Vond had only intended to be gone for a few minutes, not an entire night, and he planned to pick the palace up again as soon as he had his magic back. Hanner knew Vond intended to continue his feud with Ithinia. Whether he hoped to kill her eventually, or to force some other sort of capitulation, Hanner was unsure; he did not think Vond himself had any clear idea how the conflict might be resolved. Killing Ithinia would put him at war with the entire Wizards’ Guild, and he couldn’t hope to defeat all of them, but how could he trust any lesser sort of surrender Ithinia might offer?

For that matter, would Ithinia and the rest of the Guild accept anything less than Vond’s death? Any assassination would need to catch the emperor off-guard; if Vond had even a second to retaliate, he might be unable to save himself, but he could kill everyone nearby – or perhaps worse, from the Guild’s point of view, he might be able to turn anyone in sight into a warlock. Depending on who that might be, the result could be even worse than the present situation. Vond was a short-tempered egotist, but he was not actively malicious, nor was he subtle. A more vicious warlock could do far more damage in the short term, and a smarter warlock could do more given time.

Hanner did not think Vond would ever give anyone else access to his new Source while he lived; he was not the sort who would want to share power, nor would he trust an ally for very long. If he was about to die, though, he would almost certainly want to carry out a final act of revenge.

Right now, while Vond was in this magical refuge and cut off from his own power, there was a sort of unintentional enforced truce. Vond had no magic, and Ithinia could not easily reach him here, if she even knew where he was. This should be an opportunity to end the whole stupid conflict peacefully, Hanner thought. If he could find a way to keep Vond here, and powerless, that should be enough to satisfy Ithinia. If he only had some way to communicate with her, perhaps he could arrange something.

His time was limited, though. He glanced at the tapestry. When the sun rose in Ethshar it would start working again, Vond would leave, and this chance would be lost forever. Hanner doubted Vond would ever again risk coming here, and giving up his magic; it was astonishing that he had done it even this once.

Before falling asleep Vond had said he had been driven largely by curiosity in coming here, and now his curiosity was satisfied. He had also wanted to demonstrate that he was not afraid to come here, and he had done that. With those motives gone, he would not be back. He and his swordsmen would drive everyone out. Then he might destroy the tapestry and seal this place off from Ethshar forever – or he might carry through on the idea of bringing in several more tapestries and using it as a sort of mystic junction to reach various spots around the World more quickly than he could fly. Either way, he wouldn’t allow anyone but himself and his loyal followers to visit this place.

If only someone in Ethshar knew what was happening, and could block the attic tapestry somehow to keep Vond isolated until matters could be worked out – but the only chance for communication Hanner could think of was if someone was attempting to reach him with the Spell of Invaded Dreams, and that would only work if he could sleep.

He couldn’t. Even if he could, there was no guarantee that anyone was trying to reach him; after all, it was the middle of the night in Ethshar, and Hanner had no reason to think anyone there was aware of the situation. Sleeping might merely mean giving away any chance at a resolution that he had.

He could not rely on outside help for a solution. He needed to take action himself if he wanted to end this. If someone were to kill Vond here and now, that would be an end of all this trouble, but Hanner could not do that. He was not a killer by nature – and more importantly, Vond was guarded by a dozen men, and not all of them were asleep. At the moment the two on duty were Kolar and Marl; they were awake and ready to defend their employer, as well as the attic tapestry that they hoped would take them home.

A thought struck Hanner, and he looked at the tapestry. Would the two soldiers defend it? If the tapestry was ruined, Vond would be stuck here, and powerless. This stupid war between wizards and warlock would be over.

Of course, the rest of them would be stuck here, as well. That was a fairly major drawback. He and Rudhira, wherever she was, and the other refugees would be stranded here with a furious Vond and his soldiers. They might well be killed.

Or perhaps not – as Hanner had said, if he died, Vond might never get back to Ethshar. Zallin could not be trusted, and even if he tried to obey, the wizards and their allied witches and other magicians might stop him. If Hanner lived, though, there was always a chance someone would eventually come for him . His sisters would miss him, or Ithinia might contact him on her own to find out what had become of Vond. He, Hanner, would be the one in a position of power, able to dictate terms, because he was the one more likely to eventually provide a way home. He could bargain for the lives of the refugees, and for his own – assuming he lived long enough.

It was a risk, certainly, but wouldn’t it be worth it to ensure that Vond and Ithinia stopped trying to destroy each other, and that no one else would be caught in the middle and killed, as that poor witch had been? Even if Hanner died, wouldn’t it be worth it? He had already lost his old life, and had not yet had time to build a new one. His death would mean that Mavi would be free of any lingering guilt or second thoughts. His sisters and children could get on with their lives – they had thought he was dead for years, and a second death would surely not be so very painful. He didn’t want that to happen, but it would not be so very terrible. Hanner got to his feet.