The Vondish Ambassador

But that wasn't the way he would have bet it.

"Why do you keep assuming he wants several warlocks? How do you know this isn't just personal business, trying to find his grandson an apprenticeship?"

"Even one would be too many! Besides, he treated it as official business. He brought you along. We think it's clearly part of a war plan."

"But isn't it a tradition in the Small Kingdoms not to use magic in your wars?" he asked.

"It was before the Great Warlock came along, yes. He ruined that." The bitterness in her voice startled Emmis. "The empire uses magic."

"They did before, yes, but Vond is gone."

"Why would that matter? The Imperial Council is his heir. If they didn't intend to follow his path, why haven't they broken up the empire, and let the seventeen provinces go back to being seventeen kingdoms?"

"Well, but that's hardly the same thing!"

"That's what their envoys say, but why should we believe them?

"This is ridiculous. One man talked to a warlock about an apprenticeship for his grandson, and you're convinced it's the first step in a campaign to conquer the World!"

"Probably just the Small Kingdoms," A

"There are magicians in the Small Kingdoms!"

"Some, yes, especially in the north, along the Great Highway – but an army of warlocks could defeat most of them, and the rest would probably flee. Don't forget, Emmis, we saw what Vond did. He smashed entire armies. He summoned storms out of a calm sky, and built his palace by pulling stone out of the ground with a wave of his hand. A dozen warlocks like that would be enough to defeat Ashthasa and Lumeth in a day, all the Small Kingdoms in a year."

"But most warlocks aren't like that! They hear the Calling before they have that kind of power!"

"Vond didn't."

Emmis frowned. "So he was a freak…"

A

"That doesn't make any sense," Emmis said, but as he spoke he remembered what Lar had asked Kolar. That hum that Vond had heard – was that somehow related to his abnormally powerful magic?

Was that why the empire really didn't want any more warlocks?

"Listen," he said, "we have hundreds of warlocks here in Ethshar, and they don't cause any trouble. Why are you so sure they'd be a problem where you live?"

"You have all the other magicians to keep them under control," A

"So why do you think…"

"We can't risk it!" she snapped. "If the nobles of the empire have their own children trained as warlocks, that's completely different from anything anywhere else!"

"So you're going to kill the ambassador? How do you even know that will stop them?"

"We're going to kill this ambassador, and anyone else from Vond who tries to talk to warlocks, or to make an alliance with the Hegemony. The empire is quite strong enough without Ethshar's help."

Emmis blinked. "You know, I don't think the overlord would like that," he said.

"Why would he care?"

"You mean aside from generally not approving of murder? You're trying to cut off his communication with another country!"

"But he hasn't had any communication with the empire – why would he care when that doesn't change? After all, isn't he called Azrad the Lazy?"

Emmis stared at her. "No, he isn't," he said. "That was his father. Azrad VI was called 'the Sedentary,' yes, but he died five years ago. The present overlord is Azrad VII, and he doesn't have an agreed-upon cognomen yet – my sister Sharra calls him 'Azrad the Hard to Classify.' But he isn't lazy."

A

"Because they're trying to talk to him, and he doesn't like being interrupted!" This didn't seem real to Emmis, talking like this. He had heard people talking about killing someone on occasion, but it had always been in a fit of anger, over a theft or a woman or some personal wrong, and it had usually been when they were very drunk. He had never heard someone calmly explain that someone was to be killed over politics, as if murder weren't important. It was hard to believe she was serious.

If she was serious, though, he would have to do something to stop her.

"So what sort of assassination are you pla

"Pla

"What?"

"Well, yes! Hagai couldn't do it, he's a theurgist, and I wouldn't know how to find an assassin, but Neyam…"

Emmis leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?" A

"Neyam and his assassin! I have to stop them!"

"No, you don't," A

"Yes, I do," Emmis said. "It's murder! Where are they?"

"I don't know. The Lumethans are doing this, it's not my idea – well, mostly not…"

Emmis turned away and ran out the door onto Commission Street, where he turned left and headed for Shiphaven Market at a trot. If he had been certain where he was headed he would have run, but he wasn't sure yet. Should he just go to the house in Allston and warn Lar?

That assumed it wasn't already too late. He hoped it wasn't already too late. He had sat there listening to the Ashthasan madwoman far longer than he should have, he told himself. He should have run to help as soon as she mentioned assassination.

But it hadn't seemed real. People didn't talk openly about such things! Hadn't she realized that Emmis worked for Lar, that he liked Lar? Did she think that just because he had taken her money, he had no loyalty at all to his employer, not even the basic consideration he would give any human being?

He couldn't imagine thinking like that.

The market was uncrowded this time of day, and he was able to make it through and onto Twixt Street quickly. He picked up his pace; he still didn't know whether he was heading to Allston or the Wizards' Quarter, but either way, he would have to cross the Old Merchants' Quarter and the New City to get there.

A little belatedly the possibility of recruiting help among friends and family in Shiphaven occurred to him, but he immediately dismissed the idea; there might not be time, and it would just sound so ridiculous to them, ru

He broke into a run, even though he knew he couldn't maintain it all the way to Allston.

He was almost to Canal Square when he realized he had left all his belongings on the floor of the Crooked Candle. He cursed, but did not slow down.

He did slow down in Canal Square, though, as the crowds were thicker here. He almost tripped over a small child, brushed awkwardly against a woman, and had to slow to little more than a walk as he squeezed past a clump of people at the south end.

Kolar had said his spell would take an hour, and it was perhaps half an hour's walk each way between Through Street and the wizard's shop; allow a little time for other matters, and the ambassador still would have needed no more than three hours to complete his errand and return to the house to begin writing his protocol. Emmis glanced up at the sky, trying to estimate how long it had been since he had headed back toward Shiphaven. The sun was hidden behind rooftops to the west as he jogged down Commerce Street. How long had he spent at the rooming house? How long with his family? The walk back had taken almost an hour all by itself…