Rudhira cocked her head to one side, sending a wave of red hair rippling across her shoulder. “So you think this Arvagan can do something other wizards can’t? If you need a wizard, couldn’t you just talk to Ithinia?”
“Well, she might know where he is, but no, I don’t want a wizard, exactly. I want something I last saw in Arvagan’s shop. I’m assuming he’ll know where it is.”
“If it still exists, whatever it is.”
“If it still exists,” Hanner agreed, as he stuffed a final bag of turnips into a bin. “Now, let’s go get our guests settled in.”
They were crossing back through the dining room when another knock sounded at the front door.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sterren stepped into Warlock House and found half a dozen strangers sitting in the parlor in their nightclothes. They seemed to be deep in discussion, so he decided not to interrupt them, and instead turned right, into the grand dining room. It was empty, but he could hear noise from the kitchen, so he made his way there and found the little redhead – Rudhira, that was it – shelling peas.
“Hello,” he said.
She nodded a silent acknowledgment as she popped open the next pod.
“Who are those people in the parlor?”
She looked up. “Warlocks,” she said. “Or former warlocks, anyway.”
“Why are they here?”
She cocked her head. “You’re asking why warlocks would come to Warlock House?”
Sterren felt momentarily foolish. “Well – yes,” he said.
She set down the bowl of peas and turned to face him. “Because they have nowhere else to go. Most of them were Called on the Night of Madness, and have no homes or families left after thirty-four years. Some were Called later, but still have no homes. So they came here.”
“You let them all in?”
“Hanner did. It’s his house. He told them they could stay until they find places.”
“Stay?”
“He doesn’t want them to have to go to the Hundred-Foot Field.”
Sterren pursed his lips, then asked, “What does the Great Vond think of this?”
“He isn’t back yet.”
“I doubt he’ll approve.”
“You would know better than I.”
“What do you think of it?”
She turned up a palm. “I am here because I had nowhere else to go, and Hanner took me in. How can I object when he offers others the same?”
“Well, you… Aren’t you a friend of his, while they’re strangers?”
“We knew each other for a few days, more than thirty years ago. I have no special claim on his affections.”
Sterren’s eyes narrowed. “I had thought there was rather more than that between you.”
“No,” she said flatly.
Sterren did not argue, but something about her attitude had him wondering whether perhaps she would have preferred there to be more.
“Where is Hanner?” he asked.
“He’s out looking for a wizard he knew seventeen years ago, to find something he left in the wizard’s shop.”
“To find what, exactly?”
“He did not see fit to tell me that.”
“Did you ask?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
She glared at him. “I told you,” she said. “I am here on Lord Hanner’s sufferance. I am not in a position to make any demands, for information or anything else.”
Sterren noticed the glare, and the title. “He brought you here, didn’t he? Did you beg him to save you, or did he volunteer?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “I am still a guest.”
There was clearly something going on here between Rudhira and Hanner that Sterren didn’t entirely understand, but it wasn’t any of his business – at least, not unless it upset Vond. Sterren did not pry further.
This did complicate his own plans, though. He had just spent an hour talking to Emmis of Shiphaven, the overlord’s customs inspector responsible for overseeing all traffic between the Vondish Empire and Ethshar of the Spices. It was Emmis’ specific charge to ensure that no forbidden magic was transported from Ethshar to the empire, and most particularly that no warlocks took passage for any of the empire’s eight ports. Sterren had informed Emmis, among other things, that several former warlocks were on their way, and that any who had no family or other accommodations should be sent to Warlock House. Convincing Vond to accept them should not be unreasonably difficult, Sterren had thought, since Vond was the one who had taken them to the empire in the first place.
But that was before Sterren had discovered that Warlock House already had several guests he hadn’t known about. “How many of them are there?” he asked. “I saw five or six in the parlor just now.”
“Oh, it’s more than that,” Rudhira told him. “Twenty or thirty, I think, and I’d wager more are coming.”
“Twenty or thirty? Is there room for so many?”
“When I lived here before, we managed about forty,” she replied. “But that was crowded.”
This was the first Sterren had heard that Rudhira had ever lived here before, but he ignored that for the moment. “There may be others on the way,” he said. “The Great Vond brought some with him to the empire when he came back from Aldagmor, and I believe several of them are on their way here, to rejoin the emperor.”
“It will be crowded,” Rudhira said, reaching for the bowl of peas.
“If it’s too crowded, Vond may decide to do something about it.”
“I suppose he might.” She sighed. “The thing Hanner’s trying to retrieve from that wizard? I don’t know what it is, but it’s supposed to help accommodate some of these homeless warlocks somehow.”
It was reassuring to hear that Hanner was aware of a potential problem and trying to address it, but Sterren would have been happier if he had some idea just what Hanner had in mind. “Those people in the parlor – they seemed pretty intent on something. Do you know what they’re talking about?”
“Last I heard, they were making plans to find a tailor and get some clothes, if they could figure out a way to either pay him or arrange credit.”
Sterren looked at Rudhira’s own attire; she was wearing an embroidered white tunic and a good green skirt, but both had clearly seen better days. “What about you? Do you have any other clothes?”
“None of us do, Sterren,” she said, picking up a pea-pod. “We were Called, and I have never heard of a Called warlock taking the time to pack.” She snapped the pod open, and flicked the peas into the bowl. “I was living here when I was Called, and I’ve already looked – there’s nothing of mine in the closets. I doubt anyone remembers what happened to my clothes after more than thirty years, and I doubt they’d be fit to wear in any case, and really, I wouldn’t want to wear them.”
There was definitely some history here he was missing, Sterren thought.
She tugged at her white silk tunic. “This isn’t really mine,” she said. “Hanner’s uncle kept clothes here for his women, and I borrowed these. All those clothes are gone, too, or hidden away somewhere; except for Zallin’s, the closets and wardrobes are empty. I used money from the Council’s treasury to buy this food, so we would all have something to eat tonight, but I didn’t take any for myself, for clothes or anything else. That’s a matter for another day.”
“I see,” Sterren said. “You’re sure you have no family to help you?”
“I had no family before the Night of Madness. I doubt one magically appeared in my thirty-year absence.”
“Oh.”
Some of these former warlocks probably did have family or friends who would help, and just hadn’t found them yet, but Rudhira was surely not the only one who was genuinely alone in this new World. The magic Hanner had gone to recover might be something that would locate missing relatives, but that wouldn’t take care of everyone.