The Ambassador’s Mission: Book One of the Traitor Spy Trilogy

by Trudi Canavan

  Someone tugged at his sleeve. The guide smiled at him.

  “I’m to take you to your quarters next.” Her smile widened. “Your new quarters.”

  He felt his heart, in the process of sinking, lighten. “It wouldn’t happen to have a window, would it?”

  She gestured for him to follow her. “No. But you’ll have some company, and you’re free to come and go as you please – so long as you don’t leave Sanctuary, of course. I’m Vytra, by the way.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Vytra.”

  She chuckled. “You Kyralians have funny ways,” she said. “So polite.”

  “I can be rude if you want.”

  She laughed. “That would be a shame. Now, on the way I should give you a few tips on how to get along with people here.”

  Listening carefully, Lorkin followed the woman out into the city.

  Cery watched his daughter thoughtfully. She wasn’t doing well in her lessons today, but then Gol had also made some uncharacteristic blunders. Both were still too wound up from their morning visit to the Guild to focus fully on the training session.

  They shouldn’t be letting that affect their concentration, he thought. I guess I’m going to have to make sure I can protect myself, if my bodyguards are ever treated to a glimpse of the life of the rich and powerful again.

  A knock at the door drew everyone’s attention. They were back at the Grinder Bolhouse, and Cery’s people had been sent out to inform those who had requested a meeting with him that they could see him now.

  At a nod from Cery, Gol strode to the door and opened it a crack, before pulling it open. The man standing in the corridor outside had the same awed look on his face that Anyi and Gol had worn for hours after their visit to the Guild.

  “Black Magician Sonea, Lord Regin, two women and two children to see you,” he said.

  “Send them up.”

  The man nodded and hurried away. Anyi and Gol stood and grinned at each other.

  “Well, come on. Take your places,” Cery ordered.

  They hurried over to stand on either side of his chair. Gol struck a pose that looked more ridiculous than imposing. Anyi flexed her fingers as she always did when nervous. Shaking his head, Cery sighed and waited.

  The sound of footsteps grew louder, then the room seemed to fill with magicians’ robes. Sonea’s black ones first, then Regin’s red. Following the pair and looking very plain and meek came Forlie and a younger woman. The latter was carrying a small girl in one arm, and a slightly older boy clung to her other hand.

  Anyi and Gol bowed awkwardly, but with enthusiasm.

  “Cery,” Sonea said, then she nodded to his daughter and friend. “Anyi and Gol. Thank you for coming to the Guild. I tried to prevent it, but the Guild, when it is investigating something as serious as a rogue magician, tends to be overly thorough.”

  “That’s fine,” Cery replied. He turned to Gol. “Bring them some chairs.”

  The chunky old chairs that normally sat in the centre of the room had been moved to one side to allow room for training sessions. Gol took a step toward them, but Sonea raised a hand to stop him.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Anyi, Forlie and the other woman gaped as the heavy chairs rose and floated to the middle of the room, arranging themselves in a square incorporating Cery’s seat. Gol merely grinned in knowing satisfaction. He’d seen plenty of magic back when Cery had been working for the former High Lord.

  “We came to tell you the results of our investigation,” Sonea said as she sat down. “And to ask a favour.”

  “A favour?” Cery rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Here we go again.”

  She smiled. “Yes. Can you find Forlie, her daughter and her grandchildren a safe place to hide?”

  Cery looked at the women. They smiled back at him tentatively. The younger woman had not let go of either child as she’d sat down. The girl was in her lap, and the boy was sitting on the arm of the chair.

  “They’re in danger?”

  “Yes. She was set up to take the place of Lorandra – the real rogue.”

  “But you have the real rogue … don’t you?”

  “We do. And we don’t.” Sonea paused and considered him for a moment. “Lorandra is Skellin’s mother.”

  Cery felt a chill rise up from somewhere behind his chair and flow through all his body. His heart began to thump in his chest. Skellin’s mother. That’s why he was annoyed to learn that I’d seen the rogue fairly clearly and hadn’t told him. It would have told him his ploy of setting up Forlie wouldn’t work. Well, it would have failed anyway because he didn’t know that some of the Guild’s magicians can read minds.

  “I can’t imagine he’s a very happy man at the moment,” Cery said dryly.

  Regin chuckled. “No. Unfortunately for us all, he evaded the magicians sent to capture him, so we now have a rogue on the loose who knows we’re after him.”

  Cery stared at him. “Skellin is a magician?”

  Sonea nodded. “Which is why we need you to help Forlie. He blackmailed her by taking her daughter and grandchildren and threatening to kill them. We’re hoping he’s too busy hiding himself from us to worry about seeking revenge on her, but we’d rather not take that risk.”

  Cery looked at Forlie and shrugged. “Of course I’ll help her.”

  “You’ll want to take some extra precautions yourself,” Regin added.

  Cery smiled at the man’s understatement. He’s far more likely to seek revenge on me for the capture of his mother than on Forlie. Maybe I should see if another Thief will take care of her for me. Someone who doesn’t like Skellin …

  “There’s more,” Sonea said. “Lorandra is – was – the Thief Hunter. Skellin sent her out to kill off his rivals. He had big plans for himself. He wanted to become king of the underworld. Was going to use roet to keep everyone – even the Guild – in line.”

  When Cery thought about how powerful Skellin had already become, that did not seem as impossible as it sounded. How many people did he already have control over? I’m going to have to be very careful who I choose to trade with now.

  “Do you know if Lorandra killed Cery’s family?” Anyi asked.

  Cery felt his heart shrink. He glanced at his daughter, appreciating her asking the question to save him from having to, but dreading the answer.

  Sonea grimaced. “I don’t know. I wasn’t the one who read her mind, and I would have to have asked publicly for Kallen to find out.”

  Which would have revealed more about me than I’d have liked.

  “I’ll try to find out,” she promised. “Even if she didn’t kill them, if her part was only to break into your hideout using magic, she’ll know who did. Or who ordered it.”

  “Skellin most likely,” Regin said. “Unless she did occasional work on the side for other customers.”

  “At least we know Skellin can’t have been the actual killer,” Gol said. “He was talking with Cery at the time.”

  Anyi made a small humming noise. “It doesn’t make sense. Why send someone to kill another Thief’s family at the same time as inviting them to become an ally?”

  They all fell silent for a long moment, frowning in thought.

  “Maybe Lorandra knows,” Gol suggested.

  Cery shook his head, puzzled. “Well, I do know one thing for sure. We’ve got another rogue to catch.”

  “If he’s still in Kyralia,” Regin said.

  “Oh, he’s still here,” Cery assured them. “He hasn’t spent all that time and effort on his little empire to scamper off somewhere else. No, there are people here, rich and poor, who’ll fall over themselves to help him, some because they have to, many because they’ll benefit from it. He won’t have that anywhere else.”

  Sonea nodded. “His influence over the city is already dangerously strong, but I suspect if he’s removed his empire will fall. We have to find him.” She looked at Cery. “Will you help us again?”

  He nodded. “Wouldn’t want to miss
the fun.”

  She smiled, then stood up. Regin followed suit. “We must get back to the Guild. Thank you for taking care of Forlie and her family.”

  Cery looked at the woman, who was watching him expectantly. “I’ll find somewhere safe for you all. Where is their father?” Both women scowled so fiercely Cery couldn’t help but laugh. “Never mind about that then.” He turned back to Sonea and ushered her to the door. “I bet you attracted a lot of attention on the way here.”

  She laughed ruefully. “Yes. And the customers downstairs will be talking about it for months.”

  “Might not be a bad thing,” Regin said, following her out of the door. “It will remind people who might be considering helping Skellin that you have powerful friends.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt if they thought you were still here. It will give us time to make plans before we leave. The more private way out goes through the kitchen and the side door.”

  “We’ll go that way, then. Thanks for your help,” Sonea said. “And take care of yourselves.”

  “I always do,” he called after them, as they strode down the corridor to the stairs. Closing the door, he turned back to regard the remaining occupants of the room. Looking at the children made his heart ache, and he pushed painful memories away. “Gol, take Forlie’s family downstairs and see if they’re hungry.”

  “Right,” Gol replied. He beckoned, and they followed him out of the room. Cery returned to his chair and let out a sigh.

  He looked at Anyi. She was frowning. It was not a worried frown, but a puzzled one.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She looked at him, then away again. “Remember that magician at the Guild who was dressed the same as Sonea.”

  “Yes. Black Magician Kallen.”

  “He looked familiar. I didn’t recognise him at first because of the robes.”

  “You’ve seen him without robes on?”

  She looked up at him and laughed. “Not in the way you just put it. I didn’t get much of a look at what he was wearing the time I saw him.”

  “What was he doing?” he asked.

  A crease appeared between her brows, then her forehead smoothed and her mouth opened in a circle of revelation. “Ah! That’s it. I went with my friend one day to get rot. Not for me, of course.” Her eyes flicked up to his, serious and concerned. “In the middle of the dealing a carriage pulled up. The man inside wanted rot, and didn’t want to wait. I got a look at his face.”

  “Kallen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her eyes twinkled. “I take special note of anyone who looks like they might be doing something they shouldn’t.”

  Cery snorted. “That’d be nearly everyone in the city.”

  She grinned. “And in particular if it looks like what I learn about them might be useful some time,” she amended. “Do you think Sonea would be interested? Lots of magicians take rot, I’ve heard.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll find this interesting,” Cery told her. “I think she’ll find this very interesting. It’ll be a good excuse to sneak into her hospice again. Or maybe I’ll wait until I have something useful to tell her about Skellin.” He looked at Anyi and grimaced. “We’re going to have to be real careful who we trust. Skellin has a lot of friends, and I doubt I’m one of them now. We’ve got to help find him without getting ourselves caught. Things are going to get wild.”

  Anyi nodded, then smiled and rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? Nobody says things like ‘wild’ any more.”

  EPILOGUE

  With a final push of magic, Lorkin swept the last of the dust, hair, food scraps and unidentifiable particles into a small pile, then went to fetch a basket to dump it in.

  A few weeks had passed since he’d taken up residence in the men’s room. It was a large room, filled with rows of narrow beds. Most were empty now, but from the possessions tucked under their frames it was clear nearly all had regular occupants. Though he knew most of the regulars’ names, there were a few who stayed for three or four days then disappeared for a few more that he’d not yet been introduced to.

  “These beds are for men who don’t want to stay with their family any more, and who haven’t paired with a woman,” Vytra had told him. “There isn’t space for everyone to have their own room.”

  “Are there women’s rooms?” Lorkin had asked.

  “Sort of.” She had shrugged. “Sometimes friends and sisters share rooms.”

  At first he’d been a novelty to the male Traitors, subjected to plenty of questions about Kyralia, how he had come to Sanctuary, and what he planned to do there. The latter he could not answer to their satisfaction. He could hardly tell them about his interest in Tyvara, and they scoffed at his plans to negotiate links between their people and the Allied Lands.

  “You’re a magician,” one had pointed out. “Surely you’ll be given something to do that involves magic.”

  Despite Savara’s assurance to the other Speakers that she’d find him work to do, he hadn’t been set any task or duty yet. So the men had given him the job of keeping their room tidy. They’d been surprised to discover he didn’t know how to, and were impressed that he’d had servants to do such menial tasks for him in the Guild. It didn’t get him assigned to any other task, however. They gave him some rough instructions, then left him to work it out for himself.

  He’d asked plenty of questions in return, learning about the rules and laws of Sanctuary, including those subtle ones about manners and fairness that people set and stick to in order to reduce the conflicts that arise when living in close contact with each other.

  As Chari had warned, Sanctuary was ruled by women. But while men were blocked from the highest positions of power, they were involved in all other activities in the city. The founders had decided that Sanctuary would be foremost a place where women were in charge, but beyond that it must be a place where people were equal. Lorkin was impressed to find that men had more freedom and respect here than women did in Kyralia. He’d been worried that Traitor society may be the opposite. It made him appreciate, in ways he’d never considered before, how unfair Kyralian society actually was to women. Though it was a lot better than some other societies – like Lonmar’s. And the rest of Sachaka’s.

  Still, there were some notable ways that women were favoured over men here. Men were taught magic, but not black magic. Only women knew how to prevent a pregnancy, and all children belonged to them.

  In the small storeroom off the main room – in which, he noted, even there, gemstones were set into the ceiling to provide illumination – Lorkin found what he was looking for. He grabbed a tightly woven basket from a stack and checked it for holes.

  “It’s going to happen soon, I say.”

  The voice was male and came from the main room. Lorkin hesitated.

  “No,” another man answered. “It could take years yet before we’re ready.”

  “But they’ve doubled the battle training sessions. We have more scouts out there than ever before.”

  “And we’ve got hundreds of gems still only half grown. No war is going to happen until they mature, and that’s going to take months, if not a year.” The man sighed. “I’m hungry.”

  War? Lorkin looked at the basket, knowing that if he hovered here and one of the men came into the store to get something to eat they’d know he’d been listening. He forced himself to walk out of the room, then straighten and smile as he saw them. They looked at him in surprise.

  “Greetings,” he said, despite knowing they found the term of welcome odd. “You’re back early. Can I get you anything?”

  The two men glanced at each other, then the one who’d said he was hungry started toward the store. “No, but thanks for offering.”

  Lorkin began sweeping the rubbish into the basket. It was not easy getting the dust particles from the flat floor into the circular woven vessel, and he was concentrating so hard that he lost track of where the
other men were.

  “Lorkin,” a sharp, female voice said close behind him.

  He froze. Which was better than visibly jumping, he decided as he recognised the voice. Straightening, he turned to smile politely at the woman.

  “Speaker Kalia,” he replied.

  She looked him up and down. He was wearing the simple trousers and tunic that the other men favoured – those that did not prefer the shift that both men and women wore.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  She turned on her heel and strode toward the door. Putting the basket down, he hurried after her. He glanced at the two men, who both grimaced in sympathy.

  Kalia walked quickly for someone with short legs and a plump body. Lorkin found he took one step for every two of hers, yet she did not appear to tire. He imagined that anyone seeing them both would know instantly who was in charge. Definitely not me. Ah, how low I’ve sunk since leaving home …

  Her pace and expression didn’t invite conversation, but this woman had wanted Tyvara executed. He was not going to let her intimidate him. Or, at least, he wasn’t going to let her know he was intimidated.

  “Where are we going?” he ventured.

  “Somewhere you can be put to work at more appropriate duties than cleaning your room.” She glanced at him; her eyes were sharp and calculating. “Here in Sanctuary we try to give people tasks to suit their temperament and talents. I’m not sure if the task I have for you will suit your temperament, but it definitely will suit your talents.”

  Somehow she managed to quicken her pace even further, hinting that no more conversation was welcome. When they reached a large archway she stopped, her breathing a little laboured. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, gesturing at the contents of the large room beyond.

  As in the men’s room, there were rows of beds. But instead of being empty at this time of day, plenty of these were occupied, with men, women and children. Familiar smells reached Lorkin’s nose, along with some he did not recognise.