The Vondish Ambassador

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

"He lives near them? I didn't even see the towers while we were there," Emmis griped.

  "The New Castle was in the way," Ithinia said. "If you had gone around it you would have been able to see the tops of the towers in the distance; they're a few miles northwest of the city."

  "That fortress thing?"

  "That's the New Castle, yes."

  Emmis nodded. "I was surprised you didn't do anything more to Morkai," he said. "I mean, if he betrayed the Guild's trust, and then hired an assassin..."

  "More?" She put down her spoon and turned to stare at him.

  "Well, you broke that dagger, and obviously that hurt him somehow, but..."

  "Emmis," Ithinia interrupted, "there was a piece of his soul in that dagger. We destroyed it. He'll never get it back. He'll never be able to perform magic again – not any magic, so far as we know, and certainly not wizardry. He'll never again be whole."

  After an awkward moment of silence, Emmis said, "Oh." He suddenly took an intense interest in slicing the pear on his plate.

  That, he thought, explained that. Changing the subject, he asked, "Are your gargoyles getting any supper? Do they need to eat?"

  "What, Glitter and Old Rocky? No, they're fine; they live on magic."

  That led to a harmless and interesting discussion of animation spells, and the odd uses some people put them to, and the rest of the meal passed cheerfully enough.

  After dinner there were introductions and speeches, and all the Vondish nobles present were officially informed of the Wizards' Guild's ultimata, which they accepted happily. There were toasts proposed, and Emmis found himself drinking rather more of the Dwomoritic wine than he had intended.

  Finally, though, servants appeared to escort the guests to their quarters for the night.

  "We're staying?" Emmis asked, as the travelers gathered by the door to be sorted out. He had somehow missed that decision.

  "Yes," Lord Ildirin told him. "Ithinia says we'll leave for home in the morning."

  Emmis nodded happily. He turned to Lar. "I'll be glad to get back to Through Street, won't you?"

  Lar frowned uneasily. "Actually," he said, "I won't be going back. My job in Ethshar is done – as much by the rest of you people as by me, but done. Tonight I'm going back to my own room in Semma Castle, and I'm staying there. Lord Sterren agreed."

  "Oh, but..." Emmis stopped.

  That was that, then. His brief career as a diplomatic aide was coming to an end. It would be back to the docks, loading and unloading cargo, for him.

  "And I just got the embassy properly furnished," he said.

  "You can live there if you want," Lar said. "But I'd think somewhere closer to the water would be more reasonable."

  Emmis shook his head. "I can't afford the rent there, even if I wanted to," he said.

  "Yes, you could," Lar said. "But Shiphaven or Spicetown would probably be better."

  "I think you misjudge how much a dockworker makes," Emmis said. He wondered whether his old room near Canal Square might still be available.

  "Dockworker?" Lar sounded genuinely puzzled.

  Emmis let his annoyance into his voice. "Yes, dockworker. What did you think I did for a living?"

  "I know you did," Lar said, "but didn't Lord Sterren or Lord Ildirin talk to you?"

  Emmis blinked. "Talk to me about what?"

  "They agreed you would be the best man for the job," Lar said.

  "Yes, we did," Lord Ildirin interjected, coming up behind him, "but we hadn't spoken to him yet."

  Emmis turned to the old nobleman. "About what?"

  "About your new job, should you accept it." His mouth twisted wryly. "I had reservations about your age, but Lord Sterren pointed out that he's been Regent for more than two years now without causing any disasters, and he's no older than you are. The ambassador and Guildmaster Ithinia both consider you trustworthy enough for the position."

  "What position?"

  "Customs inspector. It will be your responsibility to ensure that no warlocks board any ship bound for the Vondish coast. You will have guardsmen working under you – I'm not sure how many, we'll see how it goes – and will be given full authority to search any vessel in Ethsharitic waters, from Shiphaven to Seacorner."

  "But... warlocks?"

  "You will employ magicians as needed; we can discuss your budget for that later."

  "I..."

  "Your experience on the docks should be very helpful," Ildirin continued. "I'm sure you know a good many tricks about hiding things aboard ship."

  "A few," Emmis admitted.

  "And your pay will be six bits a day, in silver."

  "A round," Emmis said automatically.

  Ildirin smiled a humorless smile. "Six bits," he said. "If it works out well for a year, perhaps it will increase to seven."

  "Six bits," Emmis agreed. "Thank you."

  That was when a footman in red and gold appeared and said, "Lord Ildirin? Your room is ready."

  "We can continue this discussion in the morning, my lad," Ildirin said. "I'm sure it will work out well for all concerned." Then he turned and followed the footman down the corridor.

  Emmis watched him go.

  "You could stay here, if you want," Lar said. "I don't know what Lord Sterren has planned for me, but there's plenty of work for a talented young man."

  Emmis glanced at him, startled. "No, thank you, sir. I'm an Ethsharite."

  "So was Sterren, and look where he is now."

  "I think being a customs inspector sounds far more appropriate for me, sir."

  "As you please, then." He held out his hand. "I know where my room is, and I don't need an escort to get there, so I'll be going now. May you live long and well."

  Emmis took the hand. "If you're ever back in Ethshar..."

  "I'll make sure to see you."

  Emmis watched the Vondish ambassador walk away, until a footman with an abominable accent said, "Emmis of Shiphaven? Your place is ready."

  Emmis smiled. "I'm sure it is," he said.

  Epilogue

  Emmis looked around the room with satisfaction.

  It wasn't especially large, but he didn't really need a lot of space; his work was out there on the docks, not here in his office.

  The view from the broad bay window overlooking Sea Street was magnificent. It faced out toward the westernmost of the Tea Wharves, and toward the harbor beyond; to the left he could see across the New Canal to the Shiphaven docks, while to the right, beyond the three Tea Wharves, were the Spice Wharves, extending out of sight around the curve of the waterfront. His front door, down one flight, opened around the corner on Tea Street; from there a right turn would bring him back to Sea Street and the Spicetown waterfront, while a block away to the left was a fork where the right-hand branch led across Bridge Street to Shiphaven, and the left pointed him directly toward the Palace and Lord Ildirin.

  In the office itself he had a chest of drawers to keep his records in, and a big oak desk, and a few comfortable chairs, where he could interview anyone who wanted to emigrate to Vond. He had never had his very own office before; he liked the idea.

  The bedroom at the back, overlooking Tea Street, wasn't really much bigger than the one he had had behind Canal Square, but it was closer to the ground and far less drafty.

  So far, he liked his new job. There wasn't really all that much to it yet, since there weren't that many ships bound for Vond, but the Empire and Lord Ildirin both said that would be changing.

  He had had some reservations about working in Spicetown, but in the end that had come to nothing; Azradelle and Pergren had more or less forgiven him for the incident at their wedding, though he still didn't expect any dinner invitations, and as long as he wasn't loading or unloading cargo the Spicetown dock brotherhoods had no objections to his presence.

  The journey back from Semma had gone smoothly. Ithinia had not missed a note, and they had emerged safely back in her garden. Tithi, the only prisoner who had been brought back, had successfully plea
ded that he personally had not actually killed anyone, despite his aiding Kelder, and had thereby avoided hanging, but it would be some time yet before he recovered from the three floggings he had received instead. Emmis had a suspicion that when he was healed, Lord Ildirin intended to use the man as an informant – Tithi really did have a remarkable ability to go unnoticed and look unimportant.

  Shortly after his return Emmis had spent a day in Corinal's study, going over the rest of those answers Unniel had provided; he intended to go back with a few more questions once he had everything settled here. He was carefully not pursuing anything about the Lumeth towers or the second source of warlockry, but some of the other topics were still of interest, and his brief travels had started him wondering about a few other things, as well.

  Some of it was even relevant to his work.

  He was just turning toward the door when a knock sounded.

  That was unexpected; Ahan wasn't due back for hours. He opened the door.

  Gita was standing on the landing.

  "Hello," Emmis said, startled.

  "Hello," she replied.

  For a moment they stood silently staring at each other; then Gita said, "May I come in?"

  "Of course!" Emmis stepped aside and ushered her in, settling her in one of the chairs. Then he took his own seat behind the desk. "What brings you here?" he asked.

  "I'm tired of working for my uncle," she said. "I don't want to wait tables at his inn any more."

  "Ah," Emmis said. "Were you thinking of moving to Vond, then?"

  She cocked her head. "No. Why would I do that?"

  "I don't... well, then why are you here?"

  "I went to see Lord Ildirin," she explained. "I thought perhaps I could get a job in the Palace. In the kitchens, maybe." She shook her head. "Did you know that half the palace servants have been there for generations, and the other half is orphans from the Hundred-Foot Field? Some of those people can trace their ancestry to Azrad the Great's personal staff, and others don't know who their own mothers were, let alone any of their other ancestors."

  "I didn't know that, no," Emmis said, puzzled.

  "But Lord Ildirin said that you might need an assistant."

  Understanding dawned.

  Emmis looked at her, at the round face and generous bosom, and remembered how she had carefully saved his belongings for him when he had run off without them. He didn't really know her, but he thought he might enjoy changing that.

  "So you want a job?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  He smiled. "I think we can arrange something," he said.

  She smiled back. "I'd love that," she said.

  And Emmis was fairly certain that neither of them was only discussing employment.

  - End -