The largest animal anyone had yet seen on land was something the size of a large cat or a small dog, with gray and black fur, that lived in the woods; none of the three people who had caught a glimpse of it could identify it as any known species.
There were various birds, but no one had yet managed to catch any, and there was some disagreement about just what varieties had been spotted.
The streams and the sea both held plenty of fish of various sizes, and half a dozen people thought they had seen something much bigger than any familiar fish break the surface of the sea a couple of hundred yards from shore, but all they could agree on was that it was big, smooth-skinned, and dark gray or black, moving very swiftly indeed.
In short, this refuge was not merely a village, as Hanner had thought, but an entire world in its own right, though probably much smaller than the World.
As yet, no one had done much serious exploration; no one saw any need to rush. They were still settling in, and the village was large enough to fit everyone comfortably. The supplies Hanner and Rudhira had sent had been divided up and stored away safely, so that they had plenty to eat for a few days, and the hope was that by the time the delivered food ran out, they would be producing their own, in the form of fish, nuts, and possibly game. Growing grain would take awhile, but that, too, might come in time.
Hanner had assumed when he allowed these people to use the tapestry that this place would be no more than a temporary shelter, but at least half the people he spoke to seemed to think they wanted to stay permanently. That made what he had come to do even more unpleasant, but it also changed what he intended to say.
More and more people arrived in the square as he talked, more than Hanner remembered actually sending through the tapestry; he wondered whether Rudhira or Zallin might have sent along more when he himself was otherwise occupied. Finally, though, Rudhira brought up the rear of a final group, then crossed to where Hanner sat and said, “I think that’s everyone. There might be one or two out in the hills somewhere.”
“Thank you,” Hanner said. He stood, then climbed up to stand on the boulder and announced, “My friends! I have important news!”
The murmur of conversation died.
“The Great Vond, self-proclaimed emperor, has now proclaimed himself master of Warlock House,” Hanner said. “He wants no one inside its walls but those who have sworn total loyalty to him. As far as he is concerned, everything we see around us, the entire world on this side of the tapestry, is inside those walls. He finds the idea that someone can pop out of this village into his attic uninvited to be unacceptable. He has sent me to get all of you out. Those of you willing to swear fealty to Vond will be allowed to stay in Warlock House – maybe here, maybe back in the World – while the rest of us will be cast out to fend for ourselves on the streets of Ethshar.”
A surge of muttering began to rise, but Hanner raised his hands for silence.
“The situation has become complicated,” he said. “A group of magicians led by the wizard Ithinia of the Isle attempted to trick Vond into thinking that his new magic was accompanied by a new Calling, but the ruse failed, and made Vond very, very angry – so angry that he picked up the overlord’s palace, the entire palace, and is holding it suspended a hundred feet over Ithinia’s house. If Vond is harmed, or his magic is blocked, the palace will fall and crush a significant portion of the New City. The overlord’s guards have evacuated the inhabitants of that part of the city, and found them places to stay, for now, in various garrisons and defensive structures. Those of you who leave here can probably join these refugees, rather than being forced to sleep in the Hundred-Foot Field – but still, you will be living in a city where the most powerful warlock in history is feuding with pretty much everyone else. Right now, Ethshar of the Spices is not a safe place.”
“It never was!” someone called.
“True enough,” Hanner acknowledged. “Still, right now it’s worse than usual. So, that’s the situation. I’ve been ordered to get everyone out of here – but Vond doesn’t know how many people are in here, and since he can’t come here himself without losing his magic and dropping the palace, he won’t be able to check. So if some of you leave, we can tell Vond that it’s everyone, and the rest can stay here undisturbed. You probably won’t be getting any more people or supplies coming in unless and until someone finds a way to remove Vond, and anyone who goes back through the tapestry into the attic of Warlock House after we tell Vond everyone’s out will be doing so at the risk of his own life, but other than that -”
He never finished the sentence. He was interrupted by a woman’s startled scream. Like everyone else, Hanner turned to see who was screaming, and why.
It was an old woman, who was pointing up a street that led out of the village and up the slope toward the arrival point. “Soldiers!” she said.
Everyone turned to look, and there were more screams and shouts. Hanner jumped down from his rock and ran to see for himself. He had to push his way through the crowd, but after a moment’s effort he had a clear view.
Half a dozen men were marching down the slope toward the village, swords bare in their hands. They were not wearing the yellow and red of the city guards, though; instead they wore black tunics, black kilts, and black boots, as well as gray metal breastplates and helmets. For a moment Hanner wondered whether these might be the natives of this world, come to reclaim their village from the invading Ethsharites. But then he looked up at the top of the hill and saw another one appear out of thin air, followed by another. They were definitely coming through the tapestry from Warlock House, then.
But who were they? They weren’t the overlord’s guards, not in those colors. They weren’t any military Hanner had ever seen before – soldiers didn’t wear black!
More appeared, and the nearest had stopped advancing. A dozen or so were spread across the slope now.
“Hai!” Hanner called. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“The emperor sent us,” one of the nearest replied. “We’re here to get you all out of here, and back to Ethshar.”
“I was just telling them -” Hanner began.
“You’re Hanner?” one of the swordsmen interrupted.
“Yes,” Hanner said, a trifle warily.
“His Majesty is not pleased with you, Hanner. You should have had all these people out of here hours ago.”
“I’ve been doing my best, whoever you are! There’s a lot more to this place than just the village, and it took me awhile to find everyone.”
The swordsman looked past Hanner at the crowd, then called to his own men, “Keep them all in the village. If anyone tries to leave, kill him.”
“Yes, sir,” three or four of the other swordsmen replied, more or less in unison.
“Wait a minute,” Hanner said. “Who are you? What gives you any right to give orders?”
“My name’s Gerath Gror’s son,” the swordsman replied, “and his Imperial Majesty the Great Vond appointed me commander of this cohort. He wants everyone out of here.”
“Why should we care what he wants?” Hanner demanded. “This isn’t his property, it’s mine! I paid good money for that tapestry.”
“It’s in the emperor’s house, and he doesn’t want all of you people trespassing.”
“It’s my house, not his!”
Gerath looked both amused and annoyed. “Hanner, if that’s who you are, do you really want to argue with him?”
“Why not? You do know his magic doesn’t work here, don’t you?”
For the first time, Gerath’s confidence faltered. “It doesn’t?”
“No, it doesn’t. That’s what this is all for – a place warlocks could go that the Calling couldn’t reach. He can’t touch us in here.”