The Traitor Queen

by Trudi Canavan

  Using the extra power Tyvara had given him to Heal the slave would not cost him a lot, he’d decided. It would never be enough to protect him for long, if the interrogator decided to torture or kill him. Only afterwards did it occur to him that Healing her meant the Ashaki would be able to torture her all over again.

  She had thanked him, which only made him feel worse. He lay awake for a long time, trying to convince himself that the interrogator had achieved his aim. The purpose in using her had been to force him to use up his power. Lorkin had shown that he would not be persuaded by her torture to speak. She was no longer needed.

  Now it seemed like a foolish delusion.

  The Ashaki led them to the same room. It had been cleaned. The slave girl was shoved into a corner where she threw herself into a submissive, defensive crouch.

  As before, Lorkin was directed to a stool. The interrogator leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. The assistant perched on another stool.

  “So, have you anything to tell me?” the Ashaki asked. “Anything relating to the Traitors, that is.”

  “Nothing you don’t already know.”

  “Are you sure about that? Why don’t you tell me what you think I know about the Traitors?”

  “And see if our knowledge matches?” Lorkin sighed. “As if I’d fall for that trick. When are you going to accept that I’m not going to tell you anything?”

  The interrogator shrugged. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to the king. I’m merely his …” he pursed his lips in thought, “his researcher. Only I extract information from people, not dusty old books and scrolls, or by exploring distant places, or spying on foreign lands.”

  “Torture must be the least reliable kind of research.”

  “It takes a certain skill.” The Ashaki uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the wall. “One that I don’t get to practise often, so I’m happy to have the opportunity now. Unless, of course, you distract me with something more interesting.”

  Lorkin made himself meet and hold the man’s gaze and keep his voice level, though his stomach churned as he spoke.

  “Has it occurred to you that the means you’re using to convince me to talk might make me even more determined to stay silent?”

  The Ashaki’s smile was unconcerned. “Does it really? Well, then. Let’s put that theory to the test.”

  As he turned to look at the slave she whimpered. Lorkin felt his resolve weaken. But if I tell them about the Traitors, thousands could end up like this woman. And if she is a Traitor, she knows this and would not want me to betray them.

  He clung to that thought, and tried to put out of his mind that she might not even be a Traitor, as the interrogator set about undoing everything Lorkin had mended the night before.

  Like most novices, Lilia had learned early on that a complex of inner passages and rooms lay within the University building, reached through short passages made to look like small storage rooms. They weren’t forbidden to novices, however. Hundreds of years ago the Guild had grown so large that the need for teaching space outweighed whatever purpose the inner rooms had been designed for. Now, specialised or private classes were held in them.

  The passages under the Guild were no great secret either. Everybody knew they’d been used during the Ichani Invasion. Though they were forbidden to both novices and magicians because they were deemed unsafe, the threat of cave-ins was never going to deter the more adventurous of them, so all of the passage entrances in the University had been sealed not long after the war.

  Lilia wasn’t the only novice who suspected the Guild might have kept a few open, just in case. Anyi’s explorations had revealed that the Guild had been telling the truth, however. All of the passage entrances had been bricked up. Lilia had been hoping that her friend would find at least one access point into the University. It would be a lot easier than climbing down the narrow gap inside the Magicians’ Quarters wall.

  Not to be deterred, Anyi had been working on making a new entrance. The night before, she had announced that she had broken through the brickwork at one entrance. Lilia had gone to inspect it. The hidden door in the panelling beyond had needed a little oiling before it would open smoothly. Beyond it was one of the inner passages of the University. When it was time to leave her friends, she’d used the door and then made her way back to Sonea’s rooms.

  Now she was heading back to the hidden door, hoping it was too early for other novices to be in the inner passages. Jonna had brought a large bottle of lamp oil with the morning meal. Lilia was all too conscious that her friends were fast running out of sources of light – especially since Anyi had used lamp oil to loosen the secret door’s hinges. The new route into the passages would be much faster, since she didn’t have an awkward climb up to Sonea’s rooms, and when she returned she would be closer to her first class of the day.

  Entering the University, she turned into one of the narrow corridors between the classrooms, and headed for the small room at its end that led to the inner passages. Somewhere behind her Lilia heard the sound of echoing footsteps following her. Probably a novice heading for a private class. The inner passages were usually quieter than the main part of the University, but she’d have to be careful nobody saw her slip through the secret door.

  The odd little room that divided the main and inner parts of the University contained a wall of locked cabinets. Apparently these rooms had been bare until the former University Director had died, and his replacement had decided that no storage space should be wasted. Lilia pushed through the door opposite and entered the inner passages.

  She had taken ten or so steps when she heard the door to the other side of the little room open and close, muffled by the door behind her. Whoever followed was gaining on her. She lengthened her stride in the hope that she would turn a corner before this other person would emerge and see her, but the distance was too great. She heard the door open behind her, then a laugh.

  “Hey, Lilia,” a voice called. “Where you going?”

  Her heart sank. Bokkin. From the menace in his tone she knew he had been tailing her. She stopped and turned to regard him. How stupid can this boy get? He doesn’t know how strong or weak I am. He doesn’t even have any friends with him to gang up on me. If he’s hoping I’m up to something that he could turn me in for, he shouldn’t have called out to me before he found out what it was.

  Even so, he had messed up her plans. Perhaps that was all he was aiming for.

  “Come to offer me your powers, Bokkin?” she asked.

  He sauntered toward her. “You’ve got big ideas about yourself now, haven’t you? Think you’re better than anyone because you know black magic. It’s the other way around, you know. You’re the lowest scum of the Guild and everyone hates you. That’s why you’ve got no friends. Everyone knows Naki’s death was your fault.”

  She felt something shrivel inside her, but instead of it making her cringe away from him it left a void that quickly filled with anger.

  Be careful, she warned herself. Show anger and he’ll know he’s got to you, and accidentally injuring another novice will only add to the reasons people don’t like you.

  She smiled. “Glad you got that off your chest, Bokkin?”

  He moved closer, trying again to intimidate her with his bulk and height. “Yes. But I’m not done with you. I want you to apologise – no, I want you to beg me …”

  The door behind them opened and he quickly stepped back.

  “Lady Lilia.”

  Confusion and relief rose as Lilia recognised Jonna’s voice. She peered past Bokkin to see the servant approaching. The woman bowed briskly at them both.

  “A message came for you,” Jonna said. She pushed past Bokkin. “Excuse me, my Lord.”

  Jonna placed a hand on Lilia’s arm and guided her along the passage, away from Bokkin. The novice remained silent, and Lilia didn’t dignify him with a backwards glance. She and Jonna turned a corner. When they had continued far enough Jonna glanced back.

  “
He’s not following us. Was he bothering you?”

  Lilia shrugged. “He’s a troublemaker, but a pretty thickheaded one.”

  “Don’t dismiss him too quickly. He may come back with others. Sonea had enemies among the novices when she was learning here, and they made her life here a torment.”

  “Really? Who was the leader?” How humiliating to live your life known as the novice stupid enough to have picked on the famous Black Magician Sonea.

  Jonna looked amused. “Lord Regin.”

  Lilia stared at her in astonishment. “Really? He’s not dumb.”

  “No.”

  “I guess novice bullies were smarter in those days.”

  Jonna patted her arm firmly. “What I want to know is, where are you going with a bottle of lamp oil in your bag?”

  Lilia looked down at her bag then back up at Jonna. “What bottle? I left it in the room.”

  “You most certainly did not, and it’s obvious from the way that bag is bulging and swinging that you have it in there.” Jonna frowned in a motherly, disapproving way. “I told Sonea I’d keep an eye on you. I helped raise Sonea’s son, Lorkin, so I know how to spot when a novice is up to something.”

  Lilia gazed at the servant in dismay. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Jonna about Cery, Gol and Anyi living under the Guild, but she had agreed not to. But if I don’t, Jonna won’t get me the things they need.

  Jonna had lived in the slums before she became Sonea’s servant. She would surely empathise with Cery’s situation. Even if she didn’t, perhaps she would help out of sympathy for Anyi.

  But am I being too trusting?

  “Tell me, Lilia,” Jonna said. “I may not like it, but I promise I won’t report it to the Guild.” She frowned. “Well, unless you’re teaching someone black magic. Though I suppose I wouldn’t have turned Sonea and Akkarin in, if I’d known what was really going on.”

  “I’m not teaching anyone black magic,” Lilia told her, and winced at the sound of protest in her voice. She drew in a deep breath, lowered her tone to a whisper. “Anyi is living under the Guild.”

  Jonna looked thoughtful. “I see. I guessed that she’d been travelling that way to visit you for a while already. Is it safe?”

  “We’ve been making it safer,” Lilia assured her.

  “So … why is she there?”

  Lilia shook her head. “It wasn’t safe in the city. Skellin’s people nearly killed Cery—”

  “You mean Cery is down there as well?”

  Jonna’s eyes narrowed. Lilia sighed and nodded.

  “How many people are down there?”

  “Just them.”

  The servant looked relieved. I expect she was imagining what the Guild would think of a Thief setting up his business down there, Lilia thought, with numerous criminals coming and going all the time.

  Jonna gestured to the corridor. “So why come here?”

  “We opened one of the old entrances.”

  Jonna frowned and shook her head. “Now, that’s too dangerous,” she decided. “And I don’t mean being below, I mean up here. Someone will see you. You must only use the passage in Sonea’s rooms.”

  Lilia smiled, relieved that she had been right to trust Jonna. “Haven’t you noticed how scuffed and dirty my robes have been lately.”

  “I haven’t failed to note their condition.” Jonna lifted her chin and gave Lilia a haughty look. “We shall have to do something about that. Like get you alternative clothing, for instance. In the meantime,” she reached down and opened Lilia’s bag. “I’m taking the bottle and you are going straight to class. Tonight we will discuss more effective strategies for dealing with our guests.”

  Hefting the bottle of lamp oil, she gave Lilia a stern look, then turned and strode back down the corridor. A faint whiff of her perfume lingered, something Lilia hadn’t noticed about her before.

  Closing her bag, Lilia shook her head. I had no choice but to tell her, she reasoned. And she’s not going to tell anyone. In fact, having her know everything could be useful. Then she sighed. In the meantime, I hope Cery, Gol and Anyi don’t end up sitting in the dark.

  Dannyl dipped his pen into the ink pot then continued writing, but the nib soon began to scratch the paper ineffectually. He dipped the pen once more, then sighed as he saw that the reservoir was nearly empty. Run out again, he thought. Straightening, he groaned as his back protested. How long have I been working at this?

  A day after Lorkin had been imprisoned, Dannyl had brought all of his research notes together and begun transcribing everything into a large notebook. His discussion with Tayend on the possible intentions of the Traitors had led to him worrying that, if the more dramatic situations they’d considered should eventuate, he might not get the chance to write down everything in a form others could comprehend. He had plenty of time to fill, and he was not making any progress in his research anyway, so he was writing sections of text and noting where they were to be slotted into his history of magic.

  The work had proven to be a calming, welcome distraction. It reassured him that he had made some important discoveries about the history of magic, and hadn’t wasted his time in Sachaka. He would make substantial additions to his history of magic once he returned to Kyralia. If I live to finish it. He shook his head. No, don’t be silly. Tayend agreed that the worse scenarios we imagined are the least likely to come about.

  Even so, he’d decided to make an extra copy to be stored in a safe place somewhere outside the Guild House, so that if this building was attacked his work wouldn’t be lost. Ideally, it should go to the Guild, but he couldn’t be sure it would arrive there. No doubt King Amakira had people in place to intercept and examine anything leaving and arriving at the Guild House.

  In case his work was read by Sachakans, Dannyl had been careful to leave out any mention of gemstones with magical properties, apart from the famous Storestone that had created the wastelands. He’d had to come up with a way to hide references to them when writing out his notes on the Duna tribes’ legends, so that he wouldn’t be betraying the Duna’s trust if someone happened upon the copy. The stones were now people – powerful magicians referred to by their title. Dannyl would have to change all mentions of these fictional characters back to gemstones when he came to write his book.

  After making his first coded version of his notes, he’d destroyed his original notebook. If I die and somebody finds the new version, I’m going to be the perpetrator of some very big lies in our history. After all the effort he’d put into digging up the truth about some of Kyralia’s hidden past, it would be a sad irony.

  Now he was near to finishing the copy – well, he had been until he’d run out of ink. A movement in the doorway drew his attention away, and he looked up to see Kai throw himself on the floor.

  “Ashaki Achati has arrived, master.”

  Dannyl cursed silently at the conflicting eagerness and dread the news stirred. He pushed himself to his feet. Is Achati angry at me for breaking my promise to tell him of anything that might threaten Sachaka? Will I be able to forgive him for condoning the king’s imprisonment of Lorkin? Is any chance of us becoming lovers gone?

  The slave scampered out of the room as Dannyl took the first step toward the door. Taking a deep breath, Dannyl walked down the corridor and found Achati waiting in the Master’s Room, looking dignified in a black version of the typical Ashaki trousers and short jacket.

  “Ambassador Dannyl,” he said.

  “Ashaki Achati,” Dannyl replied. He decided not to sit down, or invite Achati to. He suspected he would slip into being inappropriately friendly if he didn’t remain standing.

  Achati hesitated, looked away, then raised his gaze to meet Dannyl’s again.

  “You turned down my invitation to dinner,” he observed.

  Dannyl nodded. “It would not have been appropriate to accept.”

  “In your eyes or in the eyes of the Guild and Allied Lands?”

  “Both.”

 
Achati looked away again, frowning and shifting his weight slowly from one leg to the other. He looked as if he was considering his words carefully.

  “I’ve persuaded the king that I should maintain our friendship,” he began.

  “So you can keep trying to persuade me to order Lorkin to speak?” Dannyl finished.

  “No.” Achati winced. “Well, yes, as far as he is concerned that is the reason, but I have no intention of doing that.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  The man’s mouth twitched and his eyes crinkled with amusement. Which made Dannyl miss their former banter.

  “Try to rescue what remains of our friendship,” he said. “Even if it means pretending none of this unfortunate business is happening.”

  “But it is happening,” Dannyl said. “You would be as incapable of pretending otherwise if … if your cousin or …” A memory of the slave that Achati had cared for slipped into his mind. “Varn … maybe not Varn, since he’s a slave.”

  “It would be upsetting if Varn was unjustly treated,” Achati admitted.

  “So you admit that Lorkin’s imprisonment is unjust?”

  Achati smiled. “No. How would you feel if … if the Elyne Ambassador in Kyralia was protecting a rogue magician?”

  “To be a fair comparison, we’d not know if the man was a rogue or not. You don’t know if Lorkin has useful information and we’re not refusing to pass that information on to you, just asking that we have the opportunity to question our own man first. And if there was a rogue, well, the alliance states that all rogues are the Guild’s concern.”

  Achati sighed. “Yes, that last is the key difference. Kyralia and Elyne are allies. You trust them. Kyralia and Sachaka are not allies. You ask for more trust than we can give.”

  Dannyl nodded. “You’ll have to learn to trust us, if we are to become allies in the future.”

  “Then don’t you have to trust us, in return?”

  “You’ve got more convincing to do,” Dannyl pointed out. “We have more recent aggressive acts to forgive, before we trust Sachakans.”

  Achati sighed. He looked at Dannyl, saying nothing, before finally ending the pause in their conversation with a shake of his head.