Ethshar - Night Of Madness Part 41

Once inside, the carpet settled to the floor, and abruptly became as flat and lifeless as any ordinary rug.

Hanner looked around at a large rough chamber where most of one wall was open to the outside. There were no furnishings, no windows other than the open wall; overhead were the bare rafters of a peaked roof.

The wizard got to his feet, then turned and watched, not offering his hand, as Hanner rose. "This way,"

he said, pointing to a small, perfectly ordinary wooden door.

Hanner followed the wizard through the door into a small, bare, wooden room, where a.s.sorted cloaks and hoods hung on a row of pegs on one wall. The wizard selected a blue velvet hood, one with no eyeholes, and handed it to Hanner.

"Face that door," he said, pointing at another ordinary wooden door. "Then put this on."

Hanner obeyed and found himself blinded-but he was a warlock; he could sense his surroundings with his magic, even through the opaque hood. The wizard stepped forward and opened the door, then stepped aside.

"Walk forward," the wizard said.

Hanner started forward, then hesitated a step from the open door. He could sense nothing beyond it-not empty s.p.a.ce, but nothing at all. Something there blocked his warlock sight completely.

Some sort of wizardry, presumably-warlockry and wizardry did not work well together, he remembered.

"Go on," the wizard urged him. "Straight ahead, another step or two." The Wizards' Guild would hardly have gone to this much trouble to kill him, but Manner still hesitated-something deep inside him did notlike that blank emptiness. He reached out to touch it...

And suddenly he was genuinely, completely blind; his warlock sight had vanished as completely as the light from a snuffed candle. Panicked, he reached up and s.n.a.t.c.hed off the hood.

He wasn't in the little wooden room anymore. There was no open door before him, no wall, no sunlight spilling in through the open side of the room behind him where the carpet had landed. Instead he stood on rough slate pavement in a vast, torchlit hall. Ahead of him stretched two parallel rows of gray stone pillars, each pillar as big around as a century-old oak, with twenty feet between the rows and each pillar eight or nine feet from the next. For the nearest part of each row, each pillar bore a pair of torches set in black iron brackets slightly above the level of a tall man's head.

He could not see the end of the hall; the torches stopped some dozen pillars, perhaps thirty yards, before him, but the pillars continued on into the darkness beyond. He could not see the side walls clearly, but they were perhaps twenty feet beyond the pillars on either side.

In the torchlit stretch before him stood a great dark wooden table, strewn with papers and objects. He could see cups and bowls and staves and jewels and books and a hundred other things, mixed together seemingly at random.

And around this table stood a score of wizards, male and female, all apparent ages, in robes that ranged from unadorned gray to the most elaborate embroidered polychrome fancywork he had ever seen.

"Hanner, Chairman of the Council of Warlocks," a woman said, and Hanner recognized her as Ithinia of the Isle, senior Guild-master of Ethshar of the Spices. "No longer Lord Hanner of Eth-shar. You wished to speak to the masters of the Wizards' Guild." She waved an arm at her companions.

"Speak," she said.

Chapter Forty-two.

Where are we?" Hanner asked as he struggled to regain his composure.

"I quite literally cannot answer that completely, even if I wanted to," Ithinia said. "You are in a meeting place that is accessible only to the Wizards' Guild; that's all you need to know." Hanner tried to reach out with his magic, and felt nothing at all. He was as powerless as if the Night of Madness had never happened.

"You've removed my warlockry," he said. "I didn't know that was possible."

That changed everything. If warlocks could be turned back to ordinary people, then the Calling could be averted, and Lord Azrad's fears a.s.suaged, and order restored ...

Ithinia's next words dashed that hope. "Itisn't possible, so far as we know," she said. "Warlockry doesn't work here, but when you return to the World it will return, and you will be a warlock once again, at the same level as before."

"Oh."

That was different, and less encouraging-but still interesting. Perhaps the wizards could provide a refuge for warlocks who had reached the nightmare threshold and begun to hear the Calling.

"Have youtried to turn warlocks back?" Hanner asked.

"Of course we have," Ithinia said, visibly annoyed. "We've been doing intensive research on that question since the Night of Madness itself. We tried the Spell of Reversal, Javan's Restorative, the Ethereal Entrapment, healing spells, hypnotic spells, cleansings, holdings, rectifications, instrumental, extractives, transformations, and regressions-multiple trials of each, some of them in slowed or stopped time. We've consulted with other magicians; herbalists and theurgists and sorcerers and demonologists couldn't even do as well as we did. Witches seem to have come nearest to success, and the Brotherhood's experiments are still continuing, but so far, it appears that once someone becomes a warlock, nothing will change him back. A large part of the difficulty lies in the way warlockry interferes with other magic. We thought we had the answer when we discovered that if a warlock is transformed into something else, such as an ape or cat, he is no longer a warlock- but we discovered that when returned to human form he is as powerful a magician as ever; we can't transform him into a human who isnot a warlock by any method we've tried.

Reversible petrifaction did no better. We thought of using Fendel's Lesser Transformation to turn a warlock into a human being who is identical save for not being a warlock, but we discovered that the spell did not affect the one portion that mattered-the core of warlockry in the subject's brain. Wizardry simply can't affect it-not to transform it, nor remove it, nor alter it in any way. The only reason a transformed warlock can't use his magic is that whatever causes it only operates in human beings; the core always remains present, dormant but as untouchable as ever, in the subject of a transformation. In short, if you've come here hoping we can return you and your fellow warlocks to your former state, you've wasted your time and ours."

Hanner waved that idea away. "No, that wasn't my intent," he said. He had, as usual, said the wrong thing.

He couldn't afford to do that again. The time had come to say theright thing. His life, and the lives of all the other warlocks, might well depend upon it.

"I was distracted by the loss of my magic, that's all," he said. "I came for two reasons. Firstly, to ask what arrangements, if any, the Guild would like made regarding the remains of Manrin the Mage, and secondly, far more importantly, to offer information that I hope will help you decide the Guild's att.i.tude toward warlocks." He looked over the a.s.sembled wizards, awaiting some comment.

A red-robed wizard at the far end of the table said, "We will see that Manrin's remains are transportedto his family in Ethshar of the Sands for a proper funeral. You need not worry about that further."

That was a small relief. "And the information about warlocks?" he said.

None of them moved or spoke but Ithinia. "What information might that be?" she asked.

"I don't know how much you have already learned," he said. "Forgive me if I repeat what you already knew."

"Go on."

"Do you know about the Calling?"

"The summons to the source-point of warlockry, in southeastern Aldagmor? We are aware of it. We saw Varrin the Weaver and Rudhira of Camptown drawn away, and have observed dozens of others departing, though usually under less dramatic circ.u.mstances."

"Southeastern Aldagmor?"

Ithinia sighed. "It would seem thatwe are the ones providing information, not you!"

"An exchange is certainly welcome," Hanner said, smiling- he desperately needed to keep this discussion on friendly terms. "We only knew that they were going north; we didn't know their destination."

"Aldagmor. The phenomenon that began on the Night of Madness is centered there, and the closer one goes to that point, the more powerful it is, even now. Most of the Barony of Aldagmor has been depopulated, in fact-themajority of the population there vanished on the Night of Madness, and another large percentage has become warlocks, many of whom have since been summoned. That land is in chaos, and the only comfort we find in the situation there is that it was thinly populated to begin with. We do not wish to see anywhere else similarly transformed."

Hanner shuddered. "Neither do we," he said. "We have ereated a Council of Warlocks, and one purpose of our Council is to control the spread of warlockry and to stave off any further Callings." He hesitated, then asked, "Do you know where these warlocks are going? I mean, what's in Aldagmor that's attracting them?"

"No, we don't know," Ithinia said. "The Aldagmor source is like the core in a warlock's brain-wizardry cannot affect it, cannot see into it. Anyone who ventures too close-anyone, wizard, warlock, or otherwise-is drawn into it, and does not emerge."

Hanner nodded. He had pessimistically a.s.sumed as much. This confirmation was no surprise.

"You presumably came here to convince us not to destroy you all," Ithinia said. "I think you might do well to stop asking questions and start making your case."

"Yes, I know." Hanner took a deep breath, then said, "You're concerned with warlocks because you fear we're going to cause trouble. You think we might disrupt everything. The Guild exists to prevent magic from spreading chaos-you created it to keep yourselves from doing that." He suddenly realized that since wizardry could extend life or restore youth, that "you" might be more literal than he had thought-the very wizards who had created the Guild two hundred years before might well still be alive and seated before him. The idea staggered him for a moment, and he paused in his speech. "Go on," Ithinia said.

"You had to put an artificial limit on your own power," Hanner said, "because there is no natural limit-wizards can live forever, learning more and more magic. If two of your mightiest members went to war, you could probably lay waste to the entire World."

"As the demons did to the eastern provinces, and the G.o.ds did to the Northern Empire's heartland," a gray-robed man said, startling Hanner. "They, too, have bound themselves now."

"Yes," Hanner said. "Yes, exactly. So you want warlocks removed, lest we become equally dangerous.

But wecan't. Wedo have a natural limit."

"The Calling, as you've named it," Ithinia said.

"Yes," Hanner said. "Exactly."

A white-haired man stirred in his seat and said, "We do not bother ourselves about witches, whose magic is limited to the energy of their own bodies, nor with sorcerers, whose talismans are not sufficiently powerful or long-lasting to seriously concern us. You warlocks, though, can reach a frightening level of power before the Calling takes you. Your Rudhira demonstrated that."

"Frightening, yes," Hanner admitted. "But still limited, and your own people can wreak considerable havoc before drawing the Guild's attention. I don't know whether the legendary Tower of Flame in the Small Kingdoms is real-"

"It is," the white-haired man interrupted. "It still burns."

"You see? The World is full of dangerous magic, yet it survives. And a powerful warlock who goes rogue can easily be handled."

Some of the wizards exchanged glances.

"Not so easily," Ithinia said. "Warlocks resist wizardry. It's as if you all bear powerful protective spells at all times. We have had some unfortunate incidents already. You know of one of them; the spell we used on your uncle, Lord Faran, was the strongest petrifaction spell we know, and should be utterly instantaneous, yet it took a second or two to work, and he had time to retaliate. And Lord Faran was not a terribly powerful warlock, nowhere near Rudhira's level."

"It was not Faran who stopped his killer's heart," Hanner said. "I was able to see that, using a warlock's added senses. I hope you'll understand if I don't tell you who did perform the deed."

That created a stir, but before anyone could speak Hanner continued, "But that wasn't what I meant, in any case. Yes, you could destroy powerful warlocks with your spells, at some risk to yourself-but you could also slit their throats while they sleep.Manrin knew you far better than my uncle did, yet he didn't manage to take anyone with him."

Hanner paused for breath and heard someone mutter, "Elken, too."

He ignored that, and continued. "Even that isn't what I meant, though. Don't you see? You can use the Calling to do your work for you!" Again, his words triggered unrest; the wizards shifted in their seats and looked at one another.

"If you keep throwing things at a dangerous warlock, it doesn't matter whether any of your attacks succeed," Manner said. "He'll use his magic to defend himself. The more magic he uses, the more powerful he becomes. And the more powerful he becomes, the stronger the Calling becomes. Rudhira destroyed herself by lifting those ships-after she did that, the Calling was always there for her, growing steadily stronger."

For a moment the place was silent; then Ithinia said, "An interesting point."

Hanner knew he had said the right thing, finally. He was swaying them.

"That's one side," he continued. "Warlocks cannot cause the same level of destruction you fear, so there's no real need to destroy us. But there's another side. Wecan make any attempt to destroy us very costly."

"Go on," Ithinia said.

Hanner knew he had to phrase this carefully. He did not want to anger these people by seeming disrespectful or by threatening them openly. "You know we can kill you without touching you. You've seen us be obvious, smashing doors and so on, but we can be subtle. We can hide. We don't need to look like anything but ordinary people-did you knowI was a warlock before this morning?"

"No," Ithinia said, "but we do have ways of finding out."

"And if a wizard's heart suddenly stops in the street one day, can you find out which of the dozens of people in the area is responsible?"

Ithinia frowned and glanced around at the others. "Go on," she said.

Hanner thought he heard someone whisper something faintly. He ignored that, as he had the earlier muttering, and went on. "You may think that there are only so many warlocks, and that once you've disposed of us all you're rid of the problem-but we can make others into warlocks. It's very easy, very subtle-the person altered wouldn't necessarily even know it at first."

"Wait a minute," the white-haired wizard said. He drew a dagger and placed it on the table, then fumbled with a pouch on his belt.

"What are you doing?" Ithinia asked.

"The Spell of Truth," the other replied. He mumbled something, gestured with the dagger, and did something Hanner couldn't see with his other hand. Then he pointed the knife at Hanner and said, "Repeat what you just told us."

"I said that we can make more warlocks. We can makeanyone a warlock, easily, with or without their permission or knowledge."

"Are yousure of that?" the white-haired man demanded.

Hanner hesitated. He wanted to say yes, but he couldn't honestly. He admitted, "No, I'm not sure. Webelieve so, but there might be people we can't change. We can certainly change most people."

The wizard nodded. "Good enough," he said. "Then whyhaven't you? Why not turn all the World to warlocks?"

"I'm not eager to do something irreversible when we don't know what the results will be," Hanner said.

"Besides, it's not as if most of us have found warlockry an unmixed blessing."

"But if you turned your enemies to warlocks-"

"They might still be our enemies-and they might be more powerful than us."

"But you have more experience."

"And we're closer to the Calling. We aren't in any hurry to go see what's in Aldagmor. If wedid turn everyone to warlocks, and the Calling took us all, we might destroy the entire World. We don't want that any more than you do."

"Go on," Ithinia said.

Hanner sighed.

"That's most of it," he said. "If you do declare war upon us, we will fight, and we will fight with any means at our disposal. Wizards will die of heart failure, die in their sleep, die as they walk down the street. Wizards will find themselves transformed into warlocks, their familiar magic suddenly unreliable.

Warlocks will appear throughout the city, throughout theWorld, anywhere we can get within a few yards of some unsuspecting innocent for a moment. You might win in the end, you might exterminate us or drive us all to the Calling, but would it be worth the cost?"

"What alternative do you offer?" the white-haired wizard asked.

"The Council of Warlocks," Hanner said eagerly. "We propose to organize all the warlocks, as they're discovered, and bind them by our rules. The warlocks who accept the Council's authority will obey the laws of whatever land they live in-here in Ethshar-"

"You aren't in Ethshar here," a beautiful woman who had not previously spoken interrupted. "In fact, you aren't even in the World."

"I'm sorry," Hanner said. "In Ethshar, then, they will obey the laws of the Hegemony and the commands of the three overlords. In the Small Kingdoms they will obey the laws of the various kings and queens. In Sardiron they will obey the barons. Whatever the law is, warlocks will be bound by it, and other warlocks will cooperate, free of charge, in bringing to trial any warlock who does not. Council warlocks will operate openly, not in secret-we will distinguish ourselves by wearing black tunics, as you wizards wear your traditional robes. We will transform others to warlocks only as properly sworn apprentices, as other magicians do. We will regulate our members, like any guild-and two or more warlocks working together can overcome a single more powerful warlock, where other magic might encounter that interference you've noticed. We will require that no warlock use any other magic."

"And what do you expect in return?" the white-haired wizard asked.

"Very little," Hanner asked. "We ask that we be treated as magicians, not monsters. We ask that theWizards' Guild not kill us, nor drive us into exile, nor aid others in doing so. And one more thing." He had almost forgotten it and shuddered at the possibility. Convincing the Wizards' Guild to leave warlocks alone was important, but it would hardly solveall their problems while warlocks were blamed for other crimes.