carry? Then there were more who survived the Calling?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course. Thousands of them; probably every warlock who was ever Called. We were all trapped in the thing’s protective spells — that’s why I haven’t aged. Has it really been fifteen years?”
“Yes, your Majesty, it has.”
“I see there are new buildings everywhere, and my palace is showing some wear.” He stared critically at the huge double doors; Sterren knew their finish was noticeably more weathered than it had been when Vond left. Giving them a fresh coat of varnish had never made it into the imperial budget.
That wasn’t important now, though. Sterren asked, “Your Majesty, what happened to the others?”
“What? The other Called warlocks? Oh, they’re probably still in Aldagmor.” He waved dismissively. “They aren’t my problem.”
“May I ask, then, why you brought these people?”
Vond turned back to face Sterren. “I told them they were my honor guard, and I would give them important positions in the empire,” he said, “but the truth is, I wanted some company — people who speak good Ethsharitic, and who can understand what it’s like being a warlock. Being an emperor was sort of lonely sometimes.” His expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose my harem is gone?”
“Long ago, your Majesty.”
“Well, I have plenty of time to find a new one. For now, though — well, I see you’re still here, and my palace is still here. What about the empire?”
“Still intact, your Majesty. Your overthrow of the old nobility was thorough enough that no one saw any point in restoring them. The Imperial Council has been administering the empire in your name ever since you left.”
“The Council?” Vond glanced around, as if looking for the other councillors, but found none. “What about you? Are you still chancellor?”
Sterren had been dreading this question. He was unsure just how Vond would react to the situation, but he was very, very glad that he had refused the title of emperor. “The Council named me regent, your Majesty, but I let the Council handle as much of the government as possible.”
“Regent?” Vond considered that. “That sounds sensible. So you were ruling in my place?”
Sterren suppressed a sigh of relief. “That’s right. Just until you came back.”
“And none of the eighteen kingdoms have gotten away?”
“None.”
“Have you conquered any more?”
“No, your Majesty. We thought this was plenty to handle.”
“Well, you’ll have more soon.” Vond gestured expansively. “I think Lumeth of the Towers will be next, since that’s where my power comes from.”
Sterren hesitated for an instant, debating the necessity of delivering bad news, then said, “Ah, your Majesty — there’s a problem with that.”
Vond frowned. “What sort of a problem?”
“We…we made a treaty with the Wizards’ Guild,” Sterren said.
“The Wizards’ Guild?” Vond looked puzzled. “What do they have to do with anything way out here?”
“It seems they have interests in Lumeth, your Majesty,” Sterren said. “Twelve years ago they banned all warlocks from Lumeth, and the empire, and Shassala, and Kalithon, and Gajamor, and Calimor, and Yaroia, and Zenda, and maybe a couple of others I’m forgetting. In fact, your return may be a violation of their ban all by itself.”
Vond’s frown deepened, and he glared at Sterren. “What, you agreed to this?”
“They guaranteed our borders, Vond,” Sterren explained. “We were on the verge of war with several of our neighbors. You weren’t here, and our other magicians are…well, not very impressive. The Guild was not in a mood to compromise on the ban on warlockry, and honestly, we didn’t really want any other warlocks here, and we didn’t think you would be back. They forced peace on the whole region. It seemed like a good deal.”
“Not to me.”
“You weren’t here!”
“I am now,” Vond growled. “I’m back, and I intend to stay, whether the Wizards’ Guild likes it or not. I will take Lumeth for my empire, and whatever else I like.” He raised a hand dramatically. “I may just take Ethshar itself! After all, I grew up there, and maybe I’d like to go home.”
As he finished his speech the warlock blinked, as if surprised by his own words, and Sterren began, “I don’t think —”
“You don’t have to think!” Vond waved a hand at Sterren, and the regent found himself flung roughly backward through the air. Fortunately for him, if not for the others involved, he hit the line of people surrounding the plaza, rather than anything particularly hard and unyielding.
“I am the only warlock in the World,” Vond announced, rising into the air and amplifying his voice again, “and the most powerful magician in history! I will do as I please, and the Wizards’ Guild can’t stop me!”
Sterren disentangled himself from the people he had struck, but was in no great hurry to get back on his feet, or to confront Vond further. He knew, though, that every part of that latest announcement was wrong. There was at least one other warlock who could draw on the Lumeth source, specifically Sterren himself. There had been several magicians over the centuries who could probably match Vond’s raw power, from Fendel the Great to the late, unlamented Empress Tabaea. And if it came down to open warfare, the Wizards’ Guild almost certainly could stop Vond.
The question was, how much of the World would be destroyed in the process?
Chapter Seven
Hanner stared at the approaching dragon, trying to think what he should do. He had never seen a full-grown, flying dragon before, only the hatchlings kept as pets by the more ostentatious among Ethshar’s ruling elite, and the half-grown juveniles displayed in the Arena. Those dragons were always killed before they reached adulthood. The only adult dragons he had ever heard of were out in the wilderness, far from all human habitation.
But then, they were in eastern Aldagmor, which had been uninhabitable by humans for the past thirty-odd years — this was out in the wilderness. Why wouldn’t there be dragons here?
This one was still coming, and Hanner began to realize that this wasn’t just any dragon, it was a huge dragon, easily a hundred feet long. Its wings and flanks were a rich emerald green, and its throat and belly were golden yellow, and it was so big that its wings seemed to fill half the sky.
And as it drew closer, he could see that there was something on its back, at the base of its neck. Hanner blinked.
Meanwhile, all around him people were screaming and running. Some were bright enough to scatter into the surrounding forests and hills, but most were simply fleeing directly away from the dragon, running more or less due east.
Hanner was not going to do that. The dragon could overtake anyone it tried to, he was sure, so there was no point in running. If it intended to eat someone, it could pick whomever it wanted.
But if it wasn’t just looking for a snack and planning to grab the first person it could, then perhaps it could be reasoned with. Hanner had always heard that some of the larger dragons could talk; maybe he could talk to this one. If all it wanted was a meal — well, it wasn’t a pleasant idea, but Hanner knew there were dead bodies in the pit, people who had been crushed or smothered before they could climb out. He would have greatly preferred to give all those poor people a proper funeral and burn the bodies, but feeding them to a dragon was certainly better than letting it eat living people.
A dragon this size couldn’t be stupid, or it wouldn’t have lived long enough to get so large. It surely