“Maybe not,” Vond said, “but I think it’s necessary. My men have defied me, and stopped sending out those trespassers.”
“Maybe they can’t,” Kolar suggested. “What if we get trapped there?”
Vond shook his head. “I sent Hanner through there to chase people out, and he didn’t, and I thought maybe he couldn’t. Then when I sent Gerath and the others, they started chasing people out with no problem, so the magic is working fine, whatever it is. But then they stopped, so there must be something over there making people disobey me. Maybe there’s some strange magic involved, or maybe something’s just persuaded them to ignore my instructions, but whatever it is, I can’t allow it. I can’t tolerate disobedience, whether I’m present or not. If I can’t trust anyone else to clear them out, I’ll do it myself.”
“How do you know what’s happening there, though?”
“I don’t. That’s why I’m going, and why you’re coming with me.” He smiled. “Besides, I want to see this other world. I admit it, I’m as curious as anyone, and it might be useful. Even if I don’t have any magic there, I have you and Gerath and the rest.”
“But what if something’s happened to them?”
“Then I need to know about it!”
“Couldn’t you hire a wizard to find out?”
Vond turned to glare at him. “No, I can’t hire a wizard! The wizards are my enemies; I need to do this myself. I need to prove I’m not afraid, that even without my magic I can still control the situation.”
“But your Majesty, what if you can’t?”
“I can,” Vond insisted. “You and the other swordsmen will obey me because you know I’ll pay you when we get back, and some of the former warlocks will obey me because they want their magic back. That should be enough. Now, unless you want me to smash you, come on!”
Kolar still wasn’t convinced, but he did not dare argue with the warlock any further. Reluctantly, he trudged toward the tapestry.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Hanner watched as person after person vanished into the attic tapestry – men, women, and children snatched back to the World. Some went willingly; some had to be dragged, screaming or crying, and flung at the hanging. So far, none of the soldiers had tried to push him through, but he supposed that they would get to him eventually. There weren’t very many of the former warlocks left. Most of the soldiers were out looking for stragglers, to make sure they had not missed anyone; about a dozen refugees were clustered in or near the house.
Hanner had noticed that Rudhira was not among them, but he was not about to mention that to anyone. If she preferred to remain here, Hanner had no objection. There might be others missing, as well, but since he had never kept track of who was in the refuge to begin with, Rudhira was the only one he was sure of. Everyone else he knew had been there was accounted for.
He had also noticed that no one seemed to be reappearing. Apparently the other tapestry was being guarded, or had been rolled up, or destroyed, so that the exiles sent through to the attic were not able to return. Hanner winced inwardly at the thought that Vond might have vaporized that very expensive hanging.
Then two of the swordsmen gave one woman a shove, her hand touched the cloth – and nothing happened. She stood there, hand on the tapestry, hair awry, blinking in surprise.
“Hai!” Tesra called, raising a hand of his own. “Something’s wrong.”
The three other swordsmen in the house stopped and turned to see what was happening, while the woman stood where she had been shoved, running her hands over the fabric. She spread her fingers wide and pressed both palms on the tapestry.
“What’s going on?” asked one of the swordsmen whose name Hanner had not learned. “Why is she still here?”
“Maybe she’s under some kind of spell,” Tesra said. “You try it, and if it works, you can tell the emperor we may have a problem.”
“Seems to me we have a problem if it doesn’t work,” the other said.
“Yes, I know,” Tesra agreed, “but you won’t be in a position to tell him that, will you?”
“We’d be stuck here!”
“Well, try it, and see if we are,” Tesra said, pointing at the tapestry.
The other man frowned and said, “Pass me another warlock first, and we’ll see if he goes through.”
While this conversation was taking place Hanner had moved in for a closer look, while most of the other refugees in or near the house had retreated; therefore it was Hanner’s arm that Tesra grabbed, while the other swordsman pulled the woman away. “Here, you,” Tesra said to Hanner. “Put your hand on that thing.”
Hanner obeyed, not sure what to expect. He could think of a few reasons the tapestry might have stopped working; in fact, he was surprised that there had not been any previous interruptions. He would have expected delays after each transition, while the most recently transported person got out of the area depicted on the tapestry, but until now that had not happened – apparently this tapestry was not as particular about that as were most of the others Hanner had heard of.
Arvagan had always said they varied. Nervously, Hanner put his hand on the fabric.
Nothing happened. The material under his fingers felt like ordinary silk. It was wonderfully smooth, but silk usually was.
“So it’s not just her,” Tesra said.
The other swordsman, seeing that no harm had befallen Hanner or the woman, also reached out to stroke the cloth. Again, nothing happened; there was no sign of any magic.
“What’s happening?” a new voice asked. Hanner turned to find Gerath standing in the doorway, looking annoyed.
“The tapestry stopped working,” Tesra said.
“It what?” His head snapped around to stare at the tapestry. “Blood and death, are you serious?”
“Yes, sir,” Tesra said, stepping aside.
Gerath strode to the tapestry and put his hand on it, between Hanner’s and the other swordsman’s. He, too, failed to disappear. “Damn!” he muttered. Then he recognized Hanner. “Do you know what’s gone wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Hanner said. He was stalling, trying to decide what he wanted to tell these people.
“You have a theory?” Gerath demanded. “This tapestry was yours originally, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s mine,” Hanner said.
“So what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, so far as I know,” Hanner said. “It’s more likely something’s changed on the other side, so that the image doesn’t match the reality closely enough. When that happens, the tapestry won’t work.”
“Changed? What could have changed?”
Hanner stepped back, and gestured at the tapestry. “Several things,” he said. “You see that the image shows an empty attic; if there’s something in the real attic now that isn’t in the picture, that would explain it.”
“But it didn’t stop working when we sent people through,” Tesra said. “Wouldn’t they have been there?”
“Yes, they would,” Hanner said, impressed, despite himself, with how quickly Tesra had figured this out. “With some tapestries, you have to wait until the first person moves out of the way before you can send another. Apparently this one isn’t that picky.”
“Or it wasn’t,” Gerath said. “Maybe it wore out a little, and got picky.”
“Maybe,” Hanner conceded. “Or…well, when I first tested this tapestry, a couple of sixnights…I mean, seventeen years ago, when I was still a warlock, I smashed a hole in the attic roof. I think that must have stopped the tapestry from working until the damage was fixed. If Vond, or some wizard he’s angered, broke something – snapped one of those beams, or tore open the roof – then the tapestry won’t work until the damage is repaired.”
“That could be bad,” Tesra said.