“He has? Then relay it.”
Tayend bent in a courtly bow. “King Lerend of Elyne congratulates you on the successful conquest of Sachaka. He hopes he will have an opportunity to meet you and discuss the many ways our lands may engage in mutually beneficial relations. May a peaceful and prosperous future await you.”
Savara smiled. “Convey my appreciation of his good wishes next time you communicate. I look forward to his longer missive. I see no reason you should not stay on as ambassador.” She moved past Merria and Regin, and stopped.
Lorkin watched his mother’s face as the queen turned to face her. He saw the familiar shift in her expression, from the usual slightly pained, thoughtful look she wore most of the time to the still, all-knowing stare that he’d never been able to hold for long.
“Black Magician Sonea,” Savara said, her tone no longer friendly, but not cold either. “You disobeyed my order to stay in the house where your escort left you.”
“I did, your majesty.”
“I was not pleased to learn that.”
“I did not expect you to be.”
“Why did you disobey?”
“Ambassadors Dannyl and Tayend, and Lady Merria believed themselves to be in some danger. Saral and Temi had left, so I could not seek permission to go to the aid of my colleagues, or request that they be protected. I kept to your earlier condition that I would not side with the Ashaki, and to the Allied Lands’ wishes that we should not intervene in the battle.”
“Yet you did intervene, later.”
Sonea’s eyebrows rose. “Should I have not?”
Savara’s head tilted a little to one side. “How do the Allied Lands regard it?”
“I haven’t had the opportunity to ask them, yet. They know some decisions must be made quickly. The battle was already won and they do want to be sure our Healers will be safe here.”
“They will be.” Savara took a step backwards, and returned to her seat. “The Healers are a full day’s ride away, however. In the meantime, would you and the other Guild magicians here tend the worst injuries?”
Sonea’s chin rose and a light entered her eyes that Lorkin knew only too well. He caught his breath, then let it out in a quiet sigh.
“Of course,” she replied.
Savara nodded. “Lorkin will escort you to the mansion where the sick and injured are being housed, after I speak with him privately. You may go.”
Lorkin watched his mother, former colleagues and friends leave. As they disappeared into the corridor, Savara turned to him.
“Was asking them to Heal unwise?”
So she’d heard his reaction. He shrugged. “Mother set up the hospices in Imardin. Give her this work to do and she may never go home.”
Savara frowned. “And I thought you would be the reason she’d try to stay. I did not mean to make your task more difficult.”
“My task?”
“To persuade or arrange for your mother to go home. It’s nothing personal, and I don’t think ill of her, but I suspect she is someone I will not like having around.”
“No,” he agreed. He paused to think. “The way to get Mother to go home is to have Dannyl recommend it to the Guild. He may agree to do so if I can convince him it is a good idea, or perhaps as a favour to me. But I suspect just trying will make him suspect my motives. Though... there’s something else we can offer him to prove our intentions are peaceful, if you’ll agree to it.”
Savara leaned forward. “And what is that?”
* * *
As Lorkin led them out of the mansion, Sonea examined him critically. He looked thinner, though it might only be the Traitor style of clothing that gave the impression. Magician robes tended to conceal a lot, emphasising the shoulders and waist but hiding the rest. The close-fitting Traitor vest hugged his body. The fabric of his tunic and pants was rustic and undyed. In contrast to this humble garb, his fingers were clustered with rings, which would normally have given the impression of indulgence and wealth if she hadn’t guessed the stones were magical.
He started out towards the other side of the parade. His walk was relaxed and confident, she noted, but he was also constantly alert, his gaze roving over their surroundings. He feels secure in his place among the Traitors and has nothing to fear from the Guild except, perhaps, disapproval, but he knows the city isn’t completely safe yet.
Glancing back at her, he slowed until he was walking beside her.
“I wanted to contact you before the battle,” he said. “But everything happened so fast. We were making plans one moment and rushing out to meet the Ashaki the next.”
“What did you do with my blood ring?”
He grimaced in apology. “I have it with me. I should have hid it, but—”
“No, I would rather you had it with you to use if you needed.”
“Well... I suppose there’s a chance that if I’d been killed it would have been destroyed too.”
A chill ran down her spine. “Let’s not talk about you being killed.”
He grinned. “Fine with me.”
“So what will you do next?”
Lorkin’s expression became serious. “That depends on Savara. And Tyvara. It’s clear Savara has plans for Tyvara and, since Traitor women have all the responsibility and power and their men are expected to go along with it, I’ll end up going wherever she goes.”
“Will you be happy about that?”
He grinned. “Mostly. I love Tyvara, Mother. I love how being in charge is natural and normal to her, even though it can be frustrating at times. I also enjoy being the one who challenges that.”
Sonea resisted a sigh. “So you’re not coming home.”
He shook his head. “Not any time soon, I expect. Savara knows I’d like to be able to visit you, and the Guild. I’d still like to pass on the basic knowledge of stone-making, as Queen Zarala wished. Perhaps the Guild can do something else with it. Perhaps stone-producing caves will be found in the Allied Lands. If they do exist, the most likely place is the northern part of the Elyne mountains, where...”
A whoop came from a group of people entering the parade from a side street nearby. Lorkin stopped, placing himself between the newcomers and Sonea, then turned back to her and smiled. “Looks like there will be some celebrating tonight.”
Sonea looked beyond him to see that the men and women were carrying furniture. They weren’t dressed in Traitor garb, so she guessed they were freed slaves. Looking around, she realised there were several more groups of ex-slaves gathering along the road. Further away, a fire was burning. She heard Dannyl mutter a curse as they tossed the furniture on the ground and began to break it up. As two of the ex-slaves headed back to a nearby house, one called after them.
“Get some tinder!”
“And the wine!”
Lorkin ignored them and continued across the parade.
“They’re going to ransack the houses, aren’t they?” Dannyl asked, to nobody in particular.
“Probably,” Merria replied.
Dannyl sighed. “I should have locked the library,” he muttered.
The mansion Lorkin led them to was larger than most. A pair of Traitors stood by the door. They stared at the foreigners, but did not object as Lorkin led them through. Inside, they were confronted by chaos and noise. The usual short corridor was lined with people, and the Master’s Room was crowded with more. Some lay on the floor, injuries poorly bandaged or not at all. Others hovered over them, clearly not injured, sometimes four for every patient. Traitors hurried from the corridor on one side to the one on the other, tripping on limbs and all manner of objects from baskets of food to bottles of wine. One of the injured was clutching a large gold box even as the wound in her leg bled freely. From somewhere beyond the room came muffled screams and shouting.
“This is a mess!” Sonea exclaimed. “Isn’t anybody in charge here?”
The noise in the room diminished slightly. Heads had turned toward her. A Traitor who had just stepped into the room s
topped and glared at her. Sonea cursed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to speak so loudly.
“Where’s Kalia?” Lorkin asked the Traitor.
“Treating someone,” the woman said.
“Who is checking the new patients?”
The woman shrugged and looked around. “Someone...”
Lorkin waved her on. “Go do whatever you were doing. I’ll sort this out.”
The woman hurried way. Lorkin looked down at his rings and pressed the stone of one of them. His gaze shifted to the distance and he was still for a long moment, then he nodded and straightened. He turned to Sonea.
“Savara is sending a Speaker over. She’ll make sure everyone here follows your orders. Kalia used to be in charge of the treatment of the sick in Sanctuary, but she broke a few laws and... well, she’s not herself at the moment. She’s only here because we need her expertise.” His dislike was obvious. “She knows a little Healing. The best way to handle her, I think, will be to give her patients to treat but not decisions to make.”
Sonea raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Savara is putting me in charge?”
“For tonight.” He grimaced. “It took a lot of persuading. We thought we could rely on Kalia but...” He shrugged. “I can’t tell you the details but she made a bad decision and it has shattered her confidence. She is a good Healer. Dedicated. You can trust her to do her job well.” He took a step toward the entrance. “Speaker Yvali will be here in a moment. I have to go. Ambassador Dannyl is to come back with me.”
Dannyl’s eyebrows rose, but he did not appear concerned as he followed Lorkin out. Sonea looked at Merria, who was staring around the room and shaking her head.
“It won’t take long to sort this out,” Sonea assured her. “So long as people do as we say.”
Merria nodded eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to set up a hospice. After I’d explored the world.”
Sonea regarded the young woman with new interest. Where were you hiding this one, Vinara? she thought. She had often suspected the Head of Healers was keeping the best of the new Healers for herself. Not that I wouldn’t do it, too, if I was in her position. But it looks like she let this one slip through her fingers. Maybe one day, after Merria has satisfied her wanderlust, she’ll come back to work with me.
A Traitor woman stepped out of the shadows of the crowded entrance corridor and met Sonea’s gaze. Sonea straightened and smiled. Putting all plans for Merria’s future aside, she stepped forward and began to explain what she and the sick and injured of Arvice needed.
* * *
Celebratory bonfires were not confined to the parade, Dannyl discovered, as he, Tayend, Lorkin and Achati’s former slaves made their way to the Guild House. They were being lit all over Arvice, and the thought of all the beautiful and precious things being used to fuel them made him feel a bit ill.
They’re just objects, he told himself. But it still saddened him, and he could not delude himself that precious knowledge wasn’t being destroyed along with the merely beautiful. How could ex-slaves, most of whom did not know how to read, realise that they might be burning something that could benefit them and their descendants? Maybe the two following them would. They had been hiding in Achati’s library, after all. Is Achati’s library being burned right now? If it isn’t, can I persuade the Traitors to protect it?
He looked at the young man walking beside him. Lorkin would understand. He might not be able to do anything, but Dannyl at least had to ask, in case there was a chance that he could.
What had kept him from trying was the memory of Lorkin fighting alongside the Traitors. Of the Ashaki falling before their strikes. Of the thought that Lorkin might have been the one who killed Achati.
From the awkward silence between them, Dannyl guessed Lorkin was at least aware that fighting with the Traitors had strained his relationship with Dannyl and the Guild. But he can’t know why, in my case. Only Tayend knew that Achati and I were more than friends. And Tayend wasn’t saying anything.
“Have you made any progress on your book?” Lorkin asked.
“Not for some time,” Dannyl replied.
“Did the copies you made reach the Guild?”
“Not yet.”
They continued on without speaking for several minutes, dodging another group of revellers. Finally they rounded a corner and came in sight of the gates of the Guild House. No bonfires, thankfully, but, as a result, the street was dark. As they drew closer Dannyl heard Tayend draw in a quick breath. At the same time, he saw that the gates were hanging oddly. Someone had broken through them.
Lorkin reached into his vest and drew out something. He held it between two fingers, at the level of his chest, as he approached the gates. Bending to examine the twisted metal, he made a low noise.
“Only magic could have done this,” he murmured. He straightened and frowned at the building beyond. “The door is open.”
They stood, unmoving, as Lorkin stared at the open door, frowning. “I think we should go back and get—”
“I’ll go in and check,” Lak said, striding forward, followed by Vata.
“Wait, you don’t—” Lorkin began, but the former slaves ignored him, walking silently across the courtyard and into the building. Lorkin sighed and looked at Dannyl. “They must like you.”
Dannyl met his gaze. “They were Achati’s slaves.”
Lorkin blinked, then his expression became pained. “He didn’t survive, did he?”
“Of course not. He was one of the king’s closest advisers.”
“A fine way to pay him back for getting me out of Arvice.” Lorkin’s tone was heavy with regret.
“He’d have just as easily turned you over to the king, if he had thought it would benefit Sachaka,” Tayend said.
Dannyl looked at Tayend sharply. The Elyne stared back at him. Daring me to deny it, thought Dannyl, ruefully. I can’t. Though I’d like to think Achati would have felt bad about it, if he’d turned Lorkin over.
Lorkin looked down at the object he was holding and shook his head. Looking closer, Dannyl saw light reflect off something in the centre.
“It’s not right they take such a risk for us. Stay here. Out of sight.” He started toward the door. Dannyl looked at Tayend, and they both hurried after Lorkin. As Lorkin noticed this he sighed. “Stay close, then. Inside my shield.”
As they entered the building Dannyl felt the vibration of a shield surround them. It was dark inside. Lorkin created a globe light and sent it floating before them. They emerged into an empty Master’s Room. Lorkin chose the right-hand corridor. If the invaders were after magic or valuables to steal, they’d head for the suite of the highest-status person in the house. Reaching Dannyl’s rooms, Lorkin stepped inside. The rooms were empty, but someone had gone through the chests and cupboards, tossing most of the contents aside from the look of it. They turned to go, only to be met by Lak, holding a lamp.
“Nobody in the house,” the slave reported. “Vata is checking the stables and slave quarters. Don’t think any Ashaki would hide there, though.”
Lorkin let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Tayend. “Would you like me to come with you while you fetch the blood ring?”
Tayend shook his head. “I’ll be right back.” He beckoned to Lak, and the pair disappeared into the corridor.
The house was very quiet. Dannyl inspected the room. Very little has been taken. Why would anyone want Guild robes or old books? Should I take my research materials back with me? Where would I put them? There’s nowhere safe. But maybe I can do something about that. He looked at Lorkin, then reached into his robe for Achati’s letter and held it out. Lorkin took it, unfolded and read it. He winced and then handed it back.
“Will the Traitors let me have Achati’s library?” Dannyl asked. “If it isn’t ransacked.”
Lorkin frowned, then toyed with his rings as he considered.
“Savara says you may have access to them,” Lorkin replied. “If you let her know where it is, she’ll send someone over to
guard it.”
Savara says? Dannyl looked at the rings and saw that Lorkin was touching one of the stones. Interesting.
Lorkin dropped his hands to his sides again. “Can you do me a favour in return?”
Dannyl shrugged. “Depends on the favour.”
“Get my mother to go home as soon as possible.” Lorkin grimaced. “She won’t deliberately interfere, but she will cause problems just by being here. I’m not talking about for me, but for the Traitors. They need to be the ones taking charge here.”
“Of the Guild’s Healers as well?”
“Did they put her in charge?”
“No, actually.” Dannyl shrugged. “They will report to their own leader, and then to me.”
Lorkin looked relieved. “So there’s no other reason for her to be here?”
“Other than to make sure you, me and Merria are safe... no. But Savara has put her in charge of the hospice.”
“It’s only for the night,” Lorkin said firmly. He massaged his temples and sighed. “Can you suggest to Osen that having her here will put a strain on relations between Sachaka and the Allied Lands?”
“I can convey your concerns and the queen’s wishes.”
Lorkin shook his head. “If Mother gets the slightest hint that it came from me she’ll be more determined to stay. It has to come from you, Dannyl. And... well... I’m not a Guild magician any more.”
Dannyl paused to consider the young magician he’d brought to Sachaka as an assistant. He really means to stay with the Traitors. He gave up everything for them. And for love, too, I suspect. I don’t think I could have done that. Not even for Achati. Would I have done it for Tayend, back when we were young and so dedicated to each other? He felt an echo of that feeling. Yes, I think I would have.
Lorkin looked down at his hands again. He took one of the rings and slipped it off his finger, then held it out to Dannyl.
“This is why you should have my mother sent home. This is why the Allied Lands should establish good relations with Sachaka.”
Taking the ring, Dannyl examined it. The setting was silver, and the stone within it was clear. “What is it?”
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