Night of Madness loe-7

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  Hanner hesitated. “The others left, my lord,” he said. “The four criminals have been turned over to the Lord Magistrate of the Old Merchants’ Quarter, since Lord Azrad refused them entry, and the others, now that the excitement has subsided somewhat, went home. But two of them have come back.”

  Faran raised one eyebrow. “The excitement, my boy, has scarcely begun.”

  “That’s why the two returned,” Hanner said. Faran nodded. “Tell me, are all my guests here possessed of the new magic that appeared last night, this so-called warlockry?”

  Hanner swallowed and looked at the others.

  “I am,” Rudhira said proudly, spreading her arms and rising a few inches from the floor. To Hanner’s surprise, Faran’s smile broadened.

  “I’m not as powerful as Rudhira, but I’m a warlock,” Othisen said.

  “So am I,” Zarek admitted.

  Faran looked at Mavi, who turned up both hands. “Not I,” she said. “I was just talking with Hanner in the square when we saw you leave the Palace, and I was brought along.”

  “The two upstairs are warlocks, though,” Hanner said.

  “Ah,” Faran said. “Then counting that mysterious unnamed pair, there are six of us.”

  “Us?” Hanner said, startled.

  Faran’s smile vanished. “Us,” he said. “I, too, am a warlock. Thus Lord Azrad, that useless old fool, has cast me out.”

  Hanner’s mouth fell open, and he could see Alris’s eyes widen with shock.

  The revelation that their uncle was a warlock was perhaps the biggest shock, but it was by no means the only one. That Faran had called Azrad a fool before these near-total strangers was another, almost as great. They had both heard their uncle speak disparagingly of the overlord before-quite often, in fact-but never before where anyone outside the family could hear. In fact, it had been pounded into Hanner from an early age that as a hereditary lord he must never, ever speak ill of Lord Azrad in public; whatever they might think or say among themselves, the nobility had an obligation to present a united front to the World at large, so as never to undermine the public trust.

  And the idea that Azrad would evict Uncle Faran from the Palace was almost more than Hanner could comprehend. For as far back as he could remember Azrad had relied on Faran, had trusted him to make all the decisions that would keep the city running smoothly. That even strange new magic could shatter that trust in a single day was hard to grasp.

  “He threw you out of the Palace?” Alris gasped.

  “Oh, he has done more than that, my dear niece,” Faran said. “It would seem that Lord Azrad the Sedentary, in his infinite stupidity, has sentenced the four of us, and all the others upon whom this new magic was bestowed, to die.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Die? For what?” Rudhira demanded.

  “For endangering the peace of the Hegemony of Eth-shar by the mere fact of our existence,” Faran said. “Or perhaps for kidnapping or murdering a few hundred people-he didn’t seem very concerned about a reason.”

  “But we haven’t... well,I haven’t hurt anyone!”

  Zarek cleared his throat. “Rudhira, you killed a man last night,” he pointed out.

  Rudhira turned angrily, and Zarek staggered backward, catching himself on the door frame. “That was self-defense!” she shouted.

  “He’s still dead,” Othisen said.

  Rudhira whirled, and Othisen slammed back against the wall, his head narrowly missing a brass sconce.

  “Rudhira,” Hanner said, “don’t hurtthem.”

  Rudhira started to turn on Hanner, and he braced himself for whatever she might do, but instead she stopped. Her raised arms fell to her sides.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s those fools in the Palace I want to throw around, not you.”

  “Just one fool, really,” Faran said, watching Rudhira apprais-ingly. “It’s Azrad himself who’s behind this, not any of the rest of us.”

  Rudhira met Faran’s gaze. “Is he really as fat and lazy as they say?” she asked.

  Faran smiled knowingly. “Since I don’t know who ’they’ are or what they say,” he said, “I can’t answer that exactly, but I can certainly say that Lord Azrad the Sixth weighs perhaps twice what most men his height do, and exerts himself as little as humanly possible.”

  “If I ever get at him, he’ll exert himself!” Rudhira snapped.

  “And I hope to see it happen,” Faran replied, his calm facade slipping.

  “Lord Faran!” Mavi gasped. “He’s the overlord! The triumvir!”

  “He’s an idiot,” Faran said. “Oh, his great-great-great-great grandfather was a great man, a military genius, the founder of this city — but the blood has obviously thinned, and I think it’s time to do something about it. You know who’s really been running this city the past ten years, Hanner.” His temper was visibly wearing thin again.

  “You have,” Hanner said. “But still...”

  “That’s right,I have!” Faran said angrily, cutting Hanner short. “And what does it get me? Adeath sentence, because some mad wizard somewhere got careless and spilled magic everywhere!”

  “I don’t think it was a wizard...”

  “Fine!Whatever did it!” Faran flung his hands in the air, no longer making any pretense of composure. “And do you want to know something even more despicable, my boy? Our dear Lord Azrad won’t even take responsibility for his own actions. He intends to arrange for the Wizards’ Guild to outlaw this new magic, and letthem take the blame when the people realize how unjust this all is!”

  Hanner blinked, digesting this new information, as Faran glared at him. Then he said, “That’s not so foolish. It’s actually sort of clever...”

  ***Four greats is correct. Azrad the Great outlived both his sons; Azrad II was his grandson.

  “It’sinsane!” Faran said. “Give the Wizards’ Guild evenmore power?”

  “But it won’t...” Hanner began, intending to point out that the Wizards’ Guild would be weakened when they were indeed blamed for the proposed slaughter, but Faran wasn’t listening.

  “I won’t have it,” Faran said. “I have no intention of letting Azrad or his soldiers or the wizards kill me-or kill you, Rudhira, or Othisen, or Zarek, or anyone else who innocently got warlockry bestowed upon him.” He glowered at Hanner and Alris and Mavi.“You three don’t have anything to worry about-by the gods, Hanner, that fat old man might well name you my successor! Butwe” —he gestured at the three acknowledged warlocks-“are fighting for our lives!”

  “I know,” Hanner said, “but what can you-”

  “I could fly us away,” Rudhira said. “North, maybe, to... to Aldagmor.” She looked slightly puzzled at her own words.

  Hanner felt oddly uncomfortable at that suggestion. Faran, too, reacted strangely, jerking his head slightly before replying, “No. I’m not giving up my home without a fight.”

  “But, Uncle,” Alris said, “what can you do? Even if you’re a warlock, you can’t fight the entire city guard and the Wizards’ Guild!”

  Rudhira shuddered. “No one can fight the Wizards’ Guild,” she said.

  “Why not?” Faran said. “They’re only mortal-well, most of them, anyway.We have magic now, too! And maybe we can get the other magicians to join us-the sorcerers and theurgists and witches...”

  “Why wouldthey help?” Hanner asked.

  “Because they’re tired of the Wizards’ Guild ordering them around,” Faran said. “Keeping them out of government, telling them no one can learn more than one kind of magic...” “They don’t care, Uncle,” Hanner said. “They like things the way they are... or at least the way theywere, before last night.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Faran said.

  “But theydo,” Hanner insisted. “You’ve had me talking to them, day after day, foryears now, and they really, truly don’t care about the Wizards’ Guild.”

  “Maybe, when we tell them what’s going to happen to us, their fellow magicians...”
Rudhira said hesitantly.

  “Right!” Faran said, pointing at her. “Exactly right! Rudhira, you understand the situation better than my nephew, and he’s spent his life in the Palace.” He smiled at Rudhira, then looked expectantly at Hanner.

  Hanner knew that look. Uncle Faran expected him to yield now, to say that of course Faran was right, and everyone would do what he told them to do-but Hanner was not ready to yield. He was thinking.

  Lord Faran’s expectant smile was starting to slip into a frown when Hanner said, “Uncle? You said that the overlord intends to blame the Wizards’ Guild for ordering all the warlocks executed?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly-”

  “He hasn’t done it yet?”

  Faran blinked, startled, and Hanner realized that this was the first time in years that he had dared to interrupt his uncle.

  “No,” Faran said. “He hasn’t had time yet. He’s asked the Wizards’ Guild to attend him as soon as possible, and expects to meet with them by tomorrow. So we have a few hours-”

  “Uncle,” Hanner said, interrupting again. Faran’s eyes widened. “Why are you so sure the Wizards’ Guild will cooperate with the overlord? After all, warlocks are arguably their fellow magicians.”

  Faran’s mouth opened, then closed.

  “We should talk to them,” Othisen said. “Maybe they’re onour side!”

  “Maybe some ofthem are warlocks,” Hanner suggested. “There’s no reason it couldn’t happen, is there?”

  “Who knows?” Faran asked. “Maybe wizards were immune.”

  “But even so, they still might be sympathetic,” Hanner said. “You didn’task to be a warlock.”

  “They don’t allow magicians in the government,” Faran said.

  “But most of the warlocksaren’t in the government,” Hanner pointed out. “You are, but Rudhira and Zarek and Othisen aren’t— they’re just ordinary people. They have just as much right to be magicians as any wizard’s apprentice.”

  Hanner, long familiar with his uncle, could see Faran resisting the impulse to say that that didn’t helphim, that he wanted to keep both his post and his new magic. Faran never admitted to selfish motives-but Hanner knew they were always there.

  “You’d have to renounce your title, of course, Uncle,” Hanner said.

  “I suppose I would,” Faran said slowly. “That would still be preferable to execution, of course.”

  Hanner wasn’t at all sure Uncle Faran actually believed that.

  “You should talk to them, Lord Faran,” Othisen said. “Maybe they’d make an exception.”

  “Theynever” —Hanner, Faran, and Alris all began in unison; they looked at one another, and Hanner finished-“make exceptions.”

  “But I should talk to them,” Faran added. “You’re quite right-we really don’t know what position the Wizards’ Guild will take on all this.”

  “We don’t know how long the warlockry will last,” Hanner pointed out. “Maybe if you emphasize that, that it’s probably just a temporary thing, they’ll be lenient. Wizards take the long view, and even if the people who are warlocks nowdo stay warlocks for the rest of their lives, which you probably won’t, it’s not as if anyone’s going to take apprentices and trainnew warlocks.”

  “But it could happen again,” Rudhira said. “Whatever happened last night, I mean. For all we know it’ll happen again tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Well, don’t tellthem that,” Alris said.

  “Do you want me to go speak to Guildmaster Ithinia?” Hanner asked.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Faran said.

  “But-” Rudhira began.

  Faran silenced her protest with an upraised hand.

  “I’ll speak to Guildmaster Ithinia myself,” Faran said.

  “Will you need your cloak, my lord?” Bern asked.

  Faran smiled. “No,Bern,” he said. “I won’t be going out.”

  “But-” Mavi began. Hanner hushed her.

  “That’s what’s on the top two floors, Uncle?” he asked.

  Faran threw him a glance. “Shrewd, my boy,” he said. “Unless you’ve been snooping?”

  “I haven’t been up there,” Hanner said. “But what else could you have there that you’d keep so secret? You’ve been collecting magic.”

  “Exactly.” Faran smiled crookedly. “And if I’m an outlaw now anyway, through no fault of my own, and must either renounce my title or put an end to the Guild’s prohibition on the nobility’s use of magic, there’s no point in concealing it anymore. Using a spell to contact Guildmaster Ithinia should demonstrate that we are indeed her fellow magicians, and not merely rabble.”

  Hanner was not sure his uncle, in his anger, had thought this through properly-possession of illegal magic other than warlockry might merely demonstrate that Faran was even more dangerous than the overlord believed.

  “I don’t understand,” Mavi said. “What are you talking about?”

  “You explain it, Hanner,” Faran said as he turned toward the stairs. “I have matters to attend to.”

  Hanner sighed and explained.

  “My uncle has been interested in magic for years,” he said. “So have I, for that matter, and when he’s too busy with other city business I’ve taken charge of handling the magical stuff. It really annoys him that the Wizards’ Guild forbids any reigning triumvir or monarch, or any hereditary official of any government, to learn magic or to use magic for direct personal benefit. The limits do seem arbitrary sometimes-for example, we can use magic in the city courts to determine what’s true, but we can’t use it as punishment. The magistrates can’t sentence a murderer to be turned to stone or order a thief to spend a year as a cat, no matter how appropriate that might be. And a hereditary lord can decorate his mansion with, say, talking statuary or seal his strongbox with a rune, because those just enhance possessions he’d have anyway, but he can’t hire a magician to cure his warts, because that enhanceshim. Uncle Faran can hire a seer to spy on a traitor, because that benefits the entire city, but not on one of Azrad’s other advisors, because that would be to his own political benefit. The exact rules are complex, and sometimes they don’t seem entirely consistent— the Guild judges some cases individually, and sometimes it seems as if the ruling depends more on how annoying the wizards find the person asking than on what’s actually asked.”

  “I knew part of that,” Mavi said. “Not the details, since I’m neither a lady nor a wizard, but I knew the overlord couldn’t just order the wizards to do whatever he wants.”

  “Oh, he can’torder them to doanything,” Hanner said. “He has to pay them, just like anyone else does, and they’re always free to refuse a job, even if it’s something the Guild has approved.”

  “Oh,” Mavi said.

  “Tell her about mixing magic,” Alris said.

  “That’s another thing that annoys our uncle,” Hanner said. “The Wizards’ Guild insists that each magician should only learn one kind of magic. Witches aren’t allowed to learn wizardry, sorcerers aren’t allowed to learn theurgy, and so on. The Guild hasn’t always managed to make that one go-I’ve seen witches and ’wizards use a little sorcery, and demonologists and theurgists have been known to trade invocations occasionally. Mostly, though, that’s accepted-you won’t find wizards summoning demons, or witches turning people into newts.” He sighed. “Sometimes I think they don’t allow the nobility to use anything else because they consider political power a sort of magic itself, and it would be mixing magic.”

  “I didn’t know it was arule, that no one could learn two kinds of magic,” Mavi said. “I thought it was just too hard, learning more than one.”

  “It may be that, too,” Hanner admitted. “Uncle Faran doesn’t believe it, but I’m the one who’s talked to dozens and dozens of magicians, and most of them are far too busy learning more of their regular arts to worry about other disciplines. I’ve never heard of the Wizards’ Guild really enforcing that one-they don’t need to.”

  “
All right,” Mavi said, “but what does that have to do with Lord Faran going upstairs?”

  Hanner sighed. “This house has four floors,” he said. “The first two are where Uncle Faran brings women he doesn’t want in the Palace, for one reason or another. He may do other things here as well, I don’t know-for all I know he could meet with a secret cult of assassins every sixnight.Bern, here, takes care of the two lower floors when Uncle Faran isn’t using them.”

  Bernacknowledged the mention of his name with a quick bow.

  “But the top two floors are kept locked up,” Hanner continued. “Bernisn’t allowed up there. Faran’s women don’t go up there. Nobody does but Uncle Faran. So what could he possibly have that he needs to keep secret? He’sLord Faran, chief advisor to the overlord of Ethshar of the Spices-he can do pretty much anything he wants...”

  “Except magic,” Mavi said.

  “Right. So he’s been secretly collecting magical stuff, I would guess, and hiding it up there, and now he’s going to go use something up there to contact the Wizards’ Guild and talk to them about warlockry.”

  “He said something about someone named Ithinia?”

  “That’s our local Guildmaster. At least, the one we know about.”

  “What’s a Guildmaster?” Rudhira asked.

  Hanner was getting tired of explaining things that everyone he ordinarily dealt with had known since childhood, but he carried on. After all, some of these people might be magicians of a sort, but they hadn’t had any training, and there was no reason for anyone but an aristocrat or a magician to have learned any of this.

  “All wizards are members of the Wizards’ Guild,” he said. “They kill anyone who practices wizardry without joining, or who breaks other Guild rules-the rulers of Old Ethshar gave them that authority hundreds of years ago, maybe thousands, and nobody argues with it. Most of them are just ordinary members, though, the same way most people are just ordinary citizens of Ethshar. A few wizards are chosen as Guildmasters-we don’t know who does the choosing, or how, and apparently anyone who told us would be put to death. The Guildmasters have more authority. We don’t know how much-maybe the Guildmasters run everything, but there are rumors that there’s some secret higher rank. We don’t even know whether there are different levels of Guildmaster, or how many Guildmasters there are in the city, or who they are — again, that’s all kept secret. But we do know the names of a few, so that we know who to talk to if we need to consult the Wizards’ Guild and don’t want to work our way up from the bottom. The highest-ranking Guildmaster we know of in Ethshar of the Spices-and really, we’re justassuming she’s ranked higher than the other two we know about-is named Ithinia, and she has a mansion on Lower Street, near Arena.”