The Rogue

by Trudi Canavan

  “Hai, Lilia! Where are you off to?”

  “Naki’s place,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too smug.

  “Ooh-er. Friends in high places.” Madie’s tone was lighthearted and teasing, to Lilia’s relief.

  Froje frowned and stepped closer. “You know they say things about her, don’t you?” she asked in a low voice.

  Lilia stared at the girl. Froje wasn’t one for gossip and spite normally. The girl looked more concerned than mean, however.

  “They say things about everyone,” Lilia said lightly, then cursed herself. I should have played along to find out what people are saying. Not that I’d believe it, but still … it might help Naki avoid trouble.

  Madie smiled. “Well, you can tell us if it’s true or not, eh?” She looked at Froje and tilted her head toward the main entrance of the Novices’ Quarters. “Have fun,” she said. The pair continued on their way.

  Gripping her bag, Lilia followed slowly, letting them gain a lead on her. As she emerged from the Novices’ Quarters she saw Naki standing nearby and her mood immediately brightened. The late sun cast streaks of reflected gold in her friend’s hair and made her pale skin glow. It was colouring all the novices’ complexions too. But none suit it so well as Naki. Half the boys out here are staring at her. I can’t believe someone so beautiful and popular wants to be my friend.

  Naki saw her and smiled. Lilia’s heart lifted, but at the same time her stomach fluttered uncomfortably as it had since Naki had first invited her to her home. I had better not do anything to annoy her, because I don’t have the good looks and charm that she has to ensure I’ll always have people wanting to be my friend.

  “Father’s carriage is waiting for us,” Naki said as they met each other.

  “Oh! Sorry. I must be late.”

  “No, not really.” Naki shrugged and started toward the path through the gardens. “He often sends it early. It’s annoying, as there are only so many carriages that can fit out the front of the University and they always get jammed. What do you want to do tonight? I thought we might put our hair up.”

  Lilia tried not to wince. Her mother had done fancy things to her hair when she was a child, and she’d hated the tugging and pinching, and how the clips made her scalp itch. Naki looked at Lilia and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Lilia read disbelief on the other girl’s face. “My mother used to do it to me for special occasions. There was always a hair pulling or a pin sticking into me.”

  “Don’t worry. I promise there will be not one pulled hair. It’ll be fun.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Naki laughed – a throaty, deep laugh that made heads turn. They chatted more as they walked through the gardens. When they rounded the end of the University they found a mass of carriages waiting. Naki took Lilia’s arm and guided her through them. She stopped at one and the driver leapt down to open the door for them.

  The jam of carriages outside delayed them for some time, but Lilia barely noticed. She was too busy enjoying talking to Naki. They started by swapping amusing stories of encounters between servants and their masters, then an anecdote about a servant Naki had grown up with made her pause and look at Lilia thoughtfully.

  “You know, you remind me a lot of her. I wish you could have met each other.”

  “She doesn’t work for you any more?”

  “No.” Naki’s face darkened. “Father sent her away.”

  He seems to be the bad guy in all her stories, Lilia mused.

  “You don’t like him, do you?” she asked cautiously, not sure how Naki would react to a personal and perhaps sensitive question.

  Naki’s face changed dramatically. Suddenly her gaze was darker and her face taut. “Not much. And he hates me.” She sighed, then shook herself as if trying to throw off something bad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything, in case it made you afraid to meet him.”

  “I’m not that easily scared,” Lilia assured her.

  “He’ll be perfectly polite to you. After all, you’re a member of the Guild. He has to treat you as an equal. Well, as a novice anyway. He might turn all teacherly, though.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “And we don’t have to tell him you’re from a servant family for now,” Naki said anxiously. “He’s a bit … like that.”

  “That’s fine. What matters is that you’re not like that. I appreciate it.”

  Naki smiled. “And what I like about you is that you don’t hate us, like the other … you know … do.”

  Lilia shrugged. “My family works for a nice, decent family. It’s hard to agree with people who say—”

  “Look! We’re here.”

  Naki waved eagerly at the carriage window. Lilia peered out, looking where her friend pointed. They stopped outside a huge building. She’d known that Naki was from a rich and powerful House, but it hadn’t quite sunk in until this moment. Nerves and excitement warred within her. She tried to quell them.

  “Don’t worry,” Naki said, somehow picking up on Lilia’s trepidation. “Relax and leave everything to me.”

  The next hour passed in a blur. Naki led her into the house. First she introduced Lilia to her father, Lord Leiden, who welcomed her in a distant and distracted way. Then they went upstairs to a spacious collection of rooms that were all Naki’s. Aside from the main bedroom, there was a room filled with clothing and shoes, and another with its own bath. Naki fulfilled her promise to put Lilia’s hair up, combing through a special cream first, then using smooth silver pins that she somehow arranged so they didn’t pull or irritate Lilia’s scalp. Then they hurried downstairs for dinner.

  Naki’s father was at the table. Looking down at all the different types of cutlery, Lilia had a moment of panic. A messenger arrived and Lord Leiden stood up. He apologised at leaving them to eat alone and strode away.

  As the door of the dining room closed behind him, Naki grinned at Lilia. Without saying a word, she slipped out of her chair and walked quietly to the door. Opening it carefully, she listened. A distant thunk reached Lilia’s ears.

  “He’s gone,” Naki announced. “Grab your glass.” She picked up her own glass, freshly filled with wine, then moved to the door the servants had been entering through. As Naki reached it, the door opened and a servant woman carrying a tray of small bowls paused at the threshold.

  “We’re coming down,” Naki told her. The woman nodded, then turned and disappeared the way she had come.

  Lilia had managed to pick up her glass and slide out of her seat. Naki beckoned, then followed the servant, leading Lilia down a short corridor with a bench and cupboards to one side filled with vessels, cutlery and glasses. The servant woman was descending a stairway at the end. Naki hurried after her.

  “I eat downstairs whenever Father isn’t here,” she explained. “Then there’s no need for them to serve the food on the silverware and I have friends to chat to.”

  The stairway was long enough that Lilia suspected they were now two floors below the dining room. They entered a kitchen not unlike the one in her childhood home. Three women and a boy were working, their sleeves rolled up and their hair covered with caps that had flaps to tie around behind the ears. Lilia had worn these herself, as a child.

  Naki greeted them with an affection that they did not seem surprised at. After introducing them, she moved to a wellworn old table and sat down on one of the stools beside it. Lilia took the stool beside her. She listened to the banter between Naki and her servants and felt at home for the first time in three years.

  What a pair we make, she thought. A snootie who’s friendly and kind to servants and a lowie who doesn’t hate the rich. And the Guild – and magic – had brought them together. That’s an interesting idea. I’d have thought it would be having a similar background, from different sides of the situation. But it’s really due to magic. And magic doesn’t discriminate between rich and poor any more than it does between good and bad.


  Dannyl looked around, still struggling to believe Tayend had managed it. The Master’s Room of the Guild House was filled with powerful and influential Sachakans. There were Ashaki here who were deadly enemies. They weren’t exactly talking to each other, but they were in the same room, which apparently was a rare thing.

  He didn’t manage to get the king here, though. Tayend had said he’d sent an invite, but Achati had warned him that Amakira would not be able to attend. It was probably for the better. When the monarch was among a gathering of so many Ashaki, the inevitable political scheming spoiled the party. Or so Dannyl had heard. He’d never been in a gathering this big, nor any that included the king. The largest had been the greeting party Achati had arranged for Dannyl and Lorkin’s arrival in Arvice.

  Dannyl had to admit, he was impressed. Tayend had managed to organise the event within a few days of coming up with the idea of holding a “Kyralian” party. He’d even taught the kitchen slaves to make a few Kyralian dishes to be served in small bowls or plates. He had given up on the idea of having the slaves walk about with food on platters, since they could not put aside their habit of throwing themselves on the floor for him and Dannyl, let alone important Sachakans.

  Tayend had even managed to find more sober Kyralian clothing to wear rather than his usual bright and flamboyant garb.

  “Next time I’ll have an Elyne party,” Dannyl heard Tayend say. “Or maybe a Lonmar party. At least then the absence of women will suit the theme. You can’t have an Elyne party without a little witty female conversation to liven things up.” Tayend paused to listen to a response Dannyl could not hear, and then smiled. “Then perhaps I’ll train a slave, or import some Elyne women for the day – or mimic one myself! Nothing spared for my Sachakan guests.”

  Laughter followed. Dannyl sighed and turned away. He saw Achati talking to Lady Merria and felt a wave of gratitude. She had looked uncomfortable earlier, with the other guests ignoring her. Watching to see what the Sachakans would do when they saw her, Dannyl had noticed less displeasure and more uncertainty in their faces than he’d expected. Not used to women being among their social circle, since talking to someone else’s woman was taboo, they didn’t know what to do about her, so they pretended she wasn’t there.

  Achati looked up and beckoned to Dannyl.

  “I was just telling Lady Merria of a group of three Sachakan women I know who meet socially.”

  “I thought that was frowned upon here.”

  “They get away with it because they are widows and a cripple, and because they hate the Traitors. One of the group believes they killed her husband.” Achati smiled. “I thought Lady Merria might like to join them sometimes. She could become very lonely here otherwise.”

  Dannyl looked at Merria. “What do you think?”

  She nodded. “It would be good to meet some local women.”

  Achati smiled and looked at Dannyl. “Should I enquire with them if your assistant would be welcome?”

  Belatedly, Dannyl realised Achati was asking his permission, as if Merria’s social life was his responsibility. Amused, he looked at the Healer. She looked a little distant, as if she hadn’t heard the question, but perhaps her lack of expression came from her effort to show nothing of her true feelings.

  “Yes, please do,” Dannyl replied.

  Achati looked pleased. “Perhaps I can find you something to do, as well,” he murmured. Looking at Dannyl pointedly, he beckoned and headed toward an Ashaki whose partner in conversation had just moved away. Dannyl followed.

  “Ashaki Ritova. I was just telling Ambassador Dannyl about your impressive library.”

  The Sachakan turned to face Achati. He wore a haughty expression that softened very slightly into respect toward Achati, but returned when he looked at Dannyl.

  “Ashaki Achati. You need not boast on my behalf.”

  “Yet I always feel inclined to. Surely it is the best collection in Sachaka, aside from the palace library.”

  “It is a meagre pile of books in comparison.”

  “Even so, I am sure Ambassador Dannyl would be astounded at how old some of your records are.”

  The man glanced at Dannyl again. “I doubt you would find anything of interest, Ambassador.” He sighed. “I do not have the time to look in there myself. Too busy discussing treaties with the eastern lands.”

  He shook his head and began a long and boring criticism of the peoples the Sachakans traded with over the Aduna Sea. It would have been interesting to learn more about these lands, but Dannyl quickly realised that the Ashaki’s assessment was tainted with dislike and prejudice, and unlikely to be a true description. When Achati finally managed to extract them without insulting Ritova, he apologised.

  “I hoped to get something out of that for you,” he murmured. “But he is as stubborn as …”

  The Master of War, Kirota, drew near. Seeing Dannyl, he sidled over.

  “Ashaki Achati. Ambassador Dannyl. A pleasure to see you again, Ambassador. I hear you and Ambassador Tayend are closely connected. Is this true?”

  Dannyl nodded. “We have long been friends. Over twenty years.”

  Kirota frowned. “Ambassador Tayend said he lived in Elyne when you first met.”

  “Yes, as did I,” Dannyl explained. “I was Guild Ambassador to Elyne. I met Tayend at the Great Library. He assisted me in some research for the Guild.”

  “Ah, yes! Tayend mentioned your research. How is it going?”

  Dannyl shrugged. “I’ve made little progress recently.”

  Kirota nodded sympathetically. “Such is the life of a researcher. A big discovery one moment, long gaps between. I wish you more success soon.”

  “Thank you,” Dannyl replied. “You expressed an interest in filling gaps in your own records last time we met,” he added. “My offer to assist still stands.”

  The Master of War’s face brightened. “I will be sure to take it up.” His gaze flickered past Dannyl’s shoulder. “Ah. More of those delicious rassook legs. This time I’m determined to get more than one before they all go. I like this Kyralian food.” He grinned and hurried away.

  Hearing a chuckle beside him, Dannyl turned to look at Achati. The man smiled.

  “You did well there,” he murmured. “It could be that, now that you’re no longer the newest thing to examine, the best way to gain what you need is to trade for it.”

  Dannyl nodded and felt his heart lighten a little.

  “Though I doubt Kirota can do much for you in return,” Achati warned in a low voice. “Still … consider it an investment.”

  As the small flare of hope faded, Dannyl suppressed a sigh. He saw Tayend watching him from the other side of the room, a thoughtful look on his former lover’s face, and suddenly all Dannyl wanted to do was leave the party.

  But he had no choice but to stay, so he stiffened his back and followed Achati to the next group of Sachakans.

  Lorkin had been expecting luxury and expensive decoration. He had expected the Traitor equivalent of servants hovering about, ready to do their monarch’s bidding, and guards at every door.

  But the rooms of the Traitor queen were not much larger or finer than those of the women he had visited while assisting Speaker Kalia in her visits to the sick or pregnant. The only obvious guard was a single magician sitting in the corridor outside, near the door. Maybe the young woman who had answered his knock on the door was a magician, too, though she seemed too young for the role of royal protector. She had greeted him with a cheerful, welcoming smile, introduced herself as Pelaya, then ushered him inside.

  Now he stood within a circle of plain wooden chairs. An old woman was standing before one of them as if she had just stood up. She was not dressed in finery, but then she hadn’t been the day of Tyvara’s trial either. If he hadn’t recognised her face, he might have mistaken her for another visitor waiting for the queen.

  But her bright eyes were sharp and her stare very direct, and there was something about her composure and focus th
at spoke of confidence and command. He put a hand to his chest and waited for a response, as he’d been instructed to do when he had first entered the presence of the queen.

  She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t bother with formality in my own home, Lord Lorkin. I am too old and tired for it. Please sit down.” She reached backwards and, with obvious difficulty, began to lower herself onto a chair. He automatically took a step forward to help her, then stopped, not sure if touching her would be inappropriate.

  “Wait for me, Zarala,” Pelaya said, her voice gently scolding, as she hurried forward to assist the old queen.

  “I’m fine,” Zarala replied. “Just slow.”

  Once she was settled, the queen indicated the chair next to hers. Lorkin sat down. The young woman disappeared into another room. The queen regarded him thoughtfully.

  “How are you finding living in Sanctuary?”

  “It is a wonderful place, your majesty,” he began. “I—”

  “No formality,” the queen interrupted, waving a finger at him. “Call me Zarala.”

  He nodded. “Zarala. It is a beautiful name.”

  She grinned. “I like flattery. It will gain you nothing, though. I am too old for that sort of thing to influence me. Not that you should stop, if you happen to enjoy it.”

  “I do,” Lorkin replied. “And should you happen to enjoy it, you are welcome to send some my way, too,” he added quickly.

  To his relief, she laughed. “Go on. Tell me how you are doing.”

  “I am amazed at Traitor generosity and friendliness. Your people have welcomed me, given me food and shelter, and duties that make me feel useful.”

  “Why would you be surprised at that?”

  Lorkin shrugged. “For a people so secretive, I would have expected it to take a long time to be so accepted among you.”

  She considered him closely. “You know that you haven’t been, don’t you? Fully accepted, that is. A lot of people like you, and a lot appreciate what you did for Tyvara, but nobody is fool enough to trust you yet.”

  He nodded and met her gaze. “Yes, I do sense that. It’s understandable. I suppose I am amazed that it isn’t more obvious.”