The Ambassador's Mission

by Trudi Canavan

  Cery shrugged. “I don’t know. Magic was used in the murder. She has magic. But I have no proof that it was her.”

  The Administrator’s attention moved to Gol. “You were there the night your employer spied on this woman.”

  Gol nodded. “I was.”

  “Was it as he described? Were there any details you noticed that he didn’t?”

  “He got it straight,” the big man said.

  Now the Administrator looked at Anyi. “And were you there?”

  “No,” she replied.

  “Have you observed this woman performing magic?”

  “Yes. I first put eyes on her an hour or so before S— … Black Magician Sonea caught her. She was watching Forlie being caught. I thought it a bit odd. Then I saw her using magic to kill some birds that were making so much noise fighting they might’ve drawn attention to her. I knew she had to be a rogue, too, so I went to get Black Magician Sonea.”

  The Administrator looked thoughtful, then regarded Cery, Anyi and Gol in turn. “Is there anything else you can tell us about either of these women?”

  “No,” Cery replied. He glanced at his daughter and bodyguard. They were shaking their heads.

  The Administrator turned to regard the Higher Magicians. “Any questions?”

  “I have one,” the magician in white robes said. He must be the High Lord, Cery recalled. Sonea had told him the High Lord’s robes had been changed to white after it was decided the Black Magicians should, logically, wear black. “Have you ever seen anyone with the same physical characteristics as this woman?” The man gestured toward the rogue. “Aside from her gender, of course.”

  “Maybe once or twice,” Cery replied.

  “Do you know where those people came from?”

  Cery shook his head. “No.”

  The magician nodded, then waved a hand at the Administrator to indicate he had no more questions. Relieved, Cery found he was looking forward to leaving this place. He might be a powerful man in the city’s underworld, but he was not used to being scrutinised by so many people. A Thief works best unnoticed. Better to be known by reputation than by being the centre of attention.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Cery of Northside, Anyi and Gol,” the Administrator said. “You may now leave.”

  Sonea ushered them out again. Once the Guildhall doors had closed behind them, Cery let out a sigh of relief.

  “Did that help?” Anyi asked.

  Sonea nodded. “I think it will. They now have witness accounts of the woman breaking the law. The only magic she used within sight of magicians was arguably in her defence, when I captured her and took her to the Guild.”

  “So if she has broken the law it is excusable to read her mind?”

  “It was already.” Sonea smiled grimly. “But now they won’t feel so bad about it.”

  “Will you do it?” Cery asked.

  Her smile vanished. “It’ll either be me or Kallen. I suspect they’ll choose Kallen, since he’s had much less involvement in the search and hasn’t been disobeying rules.”

  Cery frowned. “Are they going to give you trouble for that?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, her brow creasing with worry. “Kallen doesn’t seem too pleased. He hasn’t had the time to raise the matter so far, but he will eventually. Nobody else has brought it up, but I’m sure someone will.” She sighed and took a step back toward the hall. “I had better return. I’ll let you know what happens.” She paused, then smiled. “Oh, and Lorkin contacted me. He’s alive and well. I’ll tell you all about it another time.”

  “Great news!” Cery said. “See you then.”

  She waved, then pushed one of the doors open wide enough to slip through. Cery looked from Anyi to Gol. “Let’s see if the carriage is waiting for us.”

  They grinned, and followed as he set off back to the front of the University.

  When Achati, Dannyl, the other Ashaki and Unh reached the road, they found that the slaves they had sent ahead had the carriage and horses ready and waiting for them. The Ashaki helpers turned to face Dannyl and bid him farewell.

  “You have our sympathy,” one of them said. “It must be annoying to have your assistant seduced away from you.”

  “Yes,” Dannyl replied. “But at least I know he went willingly and is in no danger – or doesn’t believe himself to be. And … I apologise for his behaviour again. He led you all into danger unnecessarily.”

  Another shrugged. “It was worth it for the chance to finally attempt to do something about them, or find their base, even if it led to nothing.”

  “But … surely you could not have followed the Traitors much further without them being forced to kill you,” Dannyl said.

  The Ashaki exchanged glances, and suddenly Dannyl understood their apparent lack of concern. They did not want to admit that they had been hopelessly outnumbered, or had failed in their task, so they pretended otherwise. In truth they had been well aware and fearful of the risk they had been taking. It would be rude to make them say so aloud, however.

  “Well, Ashaki Achati tells me we got further into their territory than anyone has managed to go before,” he said, putting pride and admiration into his tone.

  The Ashaki smiled and nodded.

  “If you change your mind about retrieving your assistant, let us know,” the more talkative of them told him. “The king would not have much trouble gathering together a small army for the purpose. We are always looking for an excuse to weed them out.”

  “That is good to know,” he assured them. “And much appreciated.” He turned to look at Unh. “I know he has good trackers to call upon, too.”

  The tribesman inclined his head slightly, but remained expressionless. The Sachakans said nothing, then the quieter of them cleared his throat. “What do you think the Guild will do about Lord Lorkin?”

  Dannyl shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But they’ll have to send me a new assistant. Hopefully they’ll be better at choosing one than I was.”

  The Sachakans chuckled. Then the talkative Ashaki rubbed his hands together. “We had all best be on our way, then.”

  So farewells were uttered and the Sachakans rode away. Unh nodded once at Dannyl, which was somehow more meaningful a farewell than the Sachakans’. The group’s passing stirred up dust as they left. Dannyl and Achati climbed into the carriage and Achati’s two slaves took their positions on the outside. The vehicle jolted into motion, and began swaying gently as it rolled along the other road.

  “Now this is better,” Achati said. “Comfort. Privacy. The promise of regular baths.”

  “I’m definitely looking forward to a bath.”

  “I suspect our helpers are as keen to get home, despite the fact that they didn’t get a chance to rid Sachaka of a few Traitors.”

  Dannyl winced. “I apologise again, for causing so much discomfort and risk for no reason.”

  “It wasn’t for no reason,” Achati corrected. “You were obliged to search; I was obliged to help you. A young man could have been in danger. The fact that he wasn’t made our journey no less important.”

  Dannyl nodded in gratitude for the Sachakan’s understanding. “I suppose I’m apologising on Lorkin’s behalf. I’m sure if he’d been able to tell us of his decision earlier he would have.”

  “He may not have decided what he was going to do until just before he spoke to you.” Achati shrugged. “It was not a wasted trip. In fact, it has been educational, both in how Kyralians think and how you think. I made assumptions about your determination to find your assistant, for example. I thought it might … go beyond mere loyalty to a fellow magician and Kyralian.”

  Dannyl looked up at Achati in surprise. “You thought we were …?”

  “Lovers.” The man’s expression was serious now. He looked away. “My slave is young, good-looking and quite talented. He adores me. But it is the adoration a slave feels for a good master. I envied you your assistant.”

  Unable to
stop himself staring at Achati in surprise, Dannyl searched for an appropriate answer and found none. Achati chuckled.

  “Surely you knew this much about me.”

  “Well … yes, but I’ll admit I was a bit slow to notice.”

  “You were preoccupied.”

  “I gather you weren’t making any great assumption about me?”

  Achati shook his head. “We make sure we know everything we can about the Ambassadors the Guild sends our way. And your choice of companions isn’t exactly a secret in Imardin.”

  “No,” Dannyl agreed, thinking of Tayend and his parties.

  Achati sighed. “I can buy myself a companion – in fact I have done so many times. Someone beautiful. Someone well trained in pleasing a master. I might perhaps find someone intelligent and witty enough to converse with, even be lucky enough to be loved by that slave. But there is always something lacking.”

  Dannyl watched Achati closely. “What is that?”

  The man’s mouth twisted into a lopsided smile. “Risk. Only when you know the other could easily leave you, do you appreciate when he stays. Only when it’s not easier on them to like you than not, do you appreciate it when they do.”

  “An equal.”

  Achati shrugged. “Or near enough. For a companion to be truly equal to me would restrict my choices too much. As the king’s envoy I am one of the most powerful men in the country, after all.”

  Dannyl nodded. “I’ve never had to consider such differences in status. Though I suppose I might have, if my companion was a servant.”

  “But a servant can leave.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do servants make good conversation?”

  “I suppose some might.”

  Achati flexed his shoulders, then relaxed. “I enjoy our conversations.”

  Dannyl smiled. “That’s just as well. You’ve only got me to talk to between here and Arvice.”

  “Indeed.” The other man’s eyes narrowed. “I think I’d enjoy more than just conversation with you.”

  Once again, Dannyl was speechless. Surprise was followed by embarrassment, then was overtaken by curiosity, and not a little flattery. This Sachakan – who had just pointed out he was one of the most powerful men in the country – is actually propositioning me! What should I do? How do you turn someone like him down without being impolite or causing a political repercussion? Do I even want to?

  He felt a shiver go down his spine. He’s younger than me, but not by many years. He’s good-looking in a Sachakan kind of way. He’s good company. He’s nice to his slaves. But oh, such a liaison would be politically dangerous!

  Achati chuckled again. “I don’t expect anything of you, Ambassador Dannyl. I only express a view. And a possibility. Something to think about. For now let’s keep to conversations. After all, I would hate to have ruined our friendship by suggesting anything that you are uncomfortable with.”

  Dannyl nodded. “As I said, I’m a bit slow.”

  “Not at all.” Achati grinned. “Otherwise I wouldn’t like you so much. You’ve been preoccupied. Focused on one goal. That distraction is gone. You can think of other things. Like how long it will take for the Guild to choose and send you a new assistant.”

  “I’m not sure anyone will be willing to volunteer for the position, after what happened to Lorkin.”

  Achati chuckled. “You may be surprised. Some might come in the hopes of being snatched away to a secret place ruled by exotic women.”

  Dannyl groaned. “Oh, I hope not. I certainly hope not.”

  CHAPTER 29

  ANSWERS, AND MORE QUESTIONS

  Sonea sat back in her seat and waited for the Higher Magicians to stop procrastinating.

  She had tried to prevent bringing Cery into the Guild, but once it was known that others had helped her and Regin find the rogues, the Guild’s habit of exploring all sides to a situation had made it unavoidable. She had told them Cery was an old friend, not that he was a Thief. A few might make the connection to a Thief named Cery who had helped her and Akkarin during the Ichani Invasion, but most would have forgotten that detail in history. Those that preferred to ignore her part in the defeat of the invaders wouldn’t have paid attention to the names of her helpers, and the few who didn’t understood, she hoped, why she wanted to avoid too much attention being drawn to her old friend.

  It was only Kallen, who paid too much attention to her already, who might make the connection and speak of it. But he was, if anything, discreet. He would not announce it to the entire Guild. He would consult with other Higher Magicians.

  What annoyed Sonea was that bringing Cery in had proved nothing they didn’t already know. The woman was obviously a rogue. She had used magic in front of hundreds of people, including the Alchemist and Healer who had helped Sonea capture her. She had also used it in a vain attempt to resist the magicians who had taken her to her temporary prison, the Dome.

  But the Guild, and most likely the king, were worried about offending a foreign land. Especially when they weren’t sure which land they might be offending.

  Earlier in the meeting, an advisor of the king had brought maps and described some of the distant lands on them. The woman remained silent, refusing to answer when asked where she was from. The advisor had made a few guesses based on her appearance. If he was right, she made no sign.

  “I cannot see any other option,” High Lord Balkan said, and there was a note of finality in his tone. “We must read her mind.”

  Administrator Osen nodded. “Then I call on Black Magician Kallen and Black Magician Sonea to descend to the floor. Black Magician Kallen will read the mind of the unnamed rogue and Black Magician Sonea will read Forlie’s mind.”

  Though she had been expecting this, Sonea felt a brief disappointment. There were many answers she would like to have from the foreign woman that she couldn’t ask Kallen to search for. Like whether the woman had killed Cery’s family.

  Following Kallen down the stairs, she kept her gaze on Forlie. The woman had gone pale, and stared at Sonea with wide eyes.

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Forlie blurted out. “You don’t have to read my mind.”

  “Stupid woman,” a strangely accented voice said. “Don’t you know they can’t read your mind if you don’t want them to?”

  Sonea turned to regard the foreign rogue, and realised that all of the magicians had done the same. The woman glanced from face to face, her expression changing as she read amusement and pity. Doubt and then fear crept into her eyes as Kallen stopped in front of her.

  As he reached toward her, his arms were slapped away by magic.

  Not wanting to watch the struggle, Sonea turned her attention back to Forlie, who flinched.

  “I’m not a magician,” the woman said, looking from Sonea to the Higher Magicians. “I was made to lie. They said …they said they’d kill my daughter and her children if I told you.” She sucked in a shuddering breath, then burst into tears.

  Sonea put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know where they are?”

  “I … I think so.”

  “They don’t know you have told us anything yet. We’ll go get your children before they find out.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  “I’m afraid I do have to check that you’re telling the truth. I promise you, mind-reading doesn’t hurt. In fact, you won’t feel anything. You won’t even know I’m there. And I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  Forlie stared at Sonea, then nodded.

  Reaching out to gently touch the woman’s temples, Sonea sent her mind forth. Fear and anxiety washed over her as she touched the woman’s mind. She let herself waft into Forlie’s thoughts, which were of her daughter and two grandchildren, and the men who had taken them. Sonea recognised the man who had blackmailed Forlie – he was the roet-seller who had been with Forlie when she was captured.

  Remembering that moment, Sonea recalled the magical force she’d felt come from Forlie. Someone else must have sent it. Perhaps the real r
ogue, watching them through the windows.

  —Who used magic when we found you?

  —I don’t know.

  —Where are your daughter and grandchildren now?

  A maze of alleys and makeshift houses flashed into Sonea’s mind, then settled on one house in particular. Forlie’s family were in one of the remaining poor areas of the city.

  —We’ll find them, Forlie. We’ll punish the people who did this.

  Opening her eyes, Sonea withdrew her fingers. Forlie’s expression was hopeful and determined now.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Turning to the Higher Magicians, Sonea related what she had learned. “I recommend that one or more of us go with Forlie to free her children as soon as possible.”

  There were many nods of agreement. A small noise drew their attention to the foreign woman. Her face, caught between Kallen’s hands, expressed a mixture of surprise and dismay.

  All watched in silence, and when Kallen finally released her Sonea heard a collective sigh of relief. Kallen stepped back, then turned to face the Higher Magicians.

  “Her name is Lorandra,” he announced. “She is from Igra, the land beyond the great northern desert. It is a strange place, where all magic is taboo and punishable by death. Yet those who watch for and punish magicians are magicians themselves. They steal the children of those they execute in order to maintain their numbers.” He shook his head in amazement at this hypocrisy and cruelty.

  “Lorandra learned magic as a young woman and was forced to flee her country with her newborn son. They managed to cross the desert to Lonmar, then travelled through Elyne to Kyralia. Here they were taken in by a Thief, who protected them in exchange for magical favours. The Thief eventually adopted the boy and made him his heir. He trained the boy in crime, while his mother trained him in magic.”

  Kallen looked at Sonea and frowned.

  “The son’s name is Skellin, one of the Thieves that Black Magician Sonea and Lord Regin enlisted to help them find the rogue. Of course, he did not want them finding his mother, so he arranged for Forlie to be caught in her place. He even used his own magic to make it look as if she had attacked them.”