“Now that Lorkin is safely away, what are you going to do with our unwanted guest?”
Dannyl looked at his meal and sighed as his appetite faltered. He drew magic and surrounded himself, Merria and Tayend with a shield to prevent anyone overhearing their conversation.
“What do you suggest?” he asked in reply.
A whole day had passed since the failed abduction. Savi was keeping the spy regularly drained of strength. Since she was the head kitchen slave, none of the other slaves thought it odd that she was the only one allowed to see something in one of the kitchen storerooms.
“I can see only two choices: either he dies or Savi leaves.”
The last of Dannyl’s appetite vanished. “Since the latter isn’t possible, that leaves us only one choice.”
Merria frowned. “But whether the king pretends his spy is a slave or admits he’s not, you’ll be breaking a law.”
Tayend nodded. “Better to be charged for destruction of the king’s property than murder. Perhaps you could make it look like an accident.”
Why must I be the one to do it? Dannyl thought. Because I’m the highest-ranking person in the house. Then he felt a traitorous hope. Does Tayend outrank me, as an Ambassador to a country rather than just the Guild?
“If Savi kills the man using black magic it’ll be clear none of us did it,” Merria suggested.
“But it’ll also be clear there’s a Traitor here somewhere,” Tayend pointed out.
“She can block a mind-read, can’t she?”
“If the king knows no slave has entered or left the House, and is determined to find which is the Traitor, he could have them tortured.”
“Or kill them all,” Tayend added.
A slave appeared. Dannyl realised it was Tav, the door slave. The man dropped to the floor.
“Mind what you say,” Dannyl warned, then let the shield fall.
“What is it, Tav?”
“Someone at the door,” the man gasped.
“Go find out who it is.”
The slave hurried away. The Master’s Room was quiet as they waited for him to return. The rapid, soft thud of footsteps growing louder preceded the slave’s return.
“A message,” he said.
“Bring it here,” Dannyl ordered before the man could abase himself again. The slave quickly padded forward, a scroll held out in both hands. Dannyl took it and waved a hand. “Leave us.”
He unrolled the message. Tayend and Merria leaned in on either side to read it.
“A summons to the palace,” Merria murmured.
“‘Immediately’,” Tayend read.
Dannyl let the scroll snap back into a roll. “Whatever we do, we have to do it now. Kai!”
His personal slave appeared in the corridor.
“Fetch Savi.” As the man disappeared, Dannyl spoke quietly, “Only reasonable to ask her what she’d prefer us to do.”
They did not wait long. The woman entered and threw herself onto the floor as quickly and unselfconsciously as any ordinary slave.
“Is the meal not to your liking, master?” she asked.
Dannyl glanced at the plate in his hands, the food barely touched. He sighed and raised the barrier of silence again.
“I’ve been summoned to the palace,” he told her. “We have to come to a decision about the fate of the king’s spy. What would you have us do?”
She grimaced. “Well... swapping clothes is definitely not going to work this time.”
Tayend straightened abruptly. “Ah!”
All eyes turned to him. “What?” Dannyl asked.
The Elyne raised a hand, palm-outward. “Wait. Give me a moment. I have an idea...” He closed his eyes and his lips moved, then he nodded. He looked around at them, then at Savi. “Tell me if this will work: could you get away with being one of the carriage slaves, despite it not being your usual work, and that you’re a woman?”
She frowned. “If it worked for Ashaki Achati, it might for me.”
“Is there a safe place on the way to the palace that Dannyl could drop you off?”
Her eyes brightened. “Yes.”
Tayend looked at Dannyl. “I think this is our best option. If we can get Savi out of harm’s way, there’s no need to kill the abductor.”
Dannyl nodded, his heart lightening with relief until he remembered that a live abductor was also going to reveal more than that Savi was a Traitor. The king isn’t going to admit publicly the man was his spy, though. Which will be very, very annoying after all we’ve been through. Unless...
“We’ll take him with us,” he decided.
Merria’s eyes widened, but Tayend only chuckled. “You’re going to tell the king everything.”
“Except how Lorkin got away.”
“Then I’m coming too. I have to see this.”
“Tayend—”
“No, Dannyl. I have to see this. My king would be most disappointed if I didn’t.”
Dannyl could not argue against that. It will be better if there are witnesses other than myself, Osen and the Sachakan court, too. He dropped the barrier of silence.
“Merria, go with Savi and fetch the spy. Kai!” The man dashed into the room. “Have the carriage brought to the front.”
As Savi and Merria hurried away and Kai disappeared, Dannyl restored the shield again. Tayend rubbed his hands together. Then he stopped and his grin faded. “I hope Achati’s involvement won’t be discovered.”
Something inside Dannyl swooped downwards. He sighed and set his plate on the floor. The previous night he’d lain awake, either worrying that Achati would turn Lorkin over or anxious at the risk Achati was taking by helping Lorkin escape.
Tayend’s spoke in low tones, despite the barrier of silence. “It occurred to me last night... What if the king orders Achati to wear one of his blood rings? They allow the creator to read the thoughts of the wearer, right? I’m sure Achati was communicating with the king during their journey to Duna. I doubt the king would wear anyone else’s blood ring and risk them reading his mind, so Achati must have been wearing one of his. Will Achati now refuse to wear a ring?”
“I don’t know.” Dannyl shook his head. “Achati knew what he was doing.”
“Well... I hope it wasn’t sacrificing himself for us. He turned out better than I expected. I like him.”
Dannyl looked at Tayend in surprise and gratitude. Tayend liking Achati makes me like Tayend better, he realised. Tayend’s good opinion also makes me like Achati better, too. All because Achati had helped Lorkin. But at what cost?
Footsteps heralded the return of Savi. She was pushing the spy, bound and gagged, before her. The man was staggering as if exhausted, Dannyl noted. No doubt she’d drained his power again.
A grim silence fell between them all as they filed down the corridor to the front entrance. The carriage was not waiting, but before long the doors to the stable swung open and the horses and vehicle emerged. Dannyl ordered Savi to climb up onto the back to cling on beside the usual carriage slave, then hauled the spy up into the cabin. He climbed in after, and Tayend followed.
“Good luck,” Merria said quietly, then pushed the door closed.
At Dannyl’s order, the carriage left the Guild House. He did not speak and Tayend stayed silent. They couldn’t discuss what they were planning to do in front of the spy, and it was hardly a situation for small talk. The spy huddled opposite Tayend and Dannyl, his frightened gaze flickering from one to the other, which was disconcerting enough. When the driver suddenly shouted they all jumped.
The carriage began to slow. Dannyl opened the window and leaned out.
“What is it?”
“The slave, master. She jumped off and ran.”
Dannyl paused and looked behind, but Savi had already disappeared.
“We can’t stop,” he told the man. “Continue to the palace.”
Perhaps it was the mention of the palace, but the abductor had stopped staring at them. Relieved, Dannyl spent the rest of the j
ourney considering and refining his plan, and gathering his courage. When they arrived, he dragged the man out after him. Leaving Tayend to hurry after, he forced the spy before him and marched into the palace.
The guards watched intently, but didn’t stop him. Once in the hall, Dannyl was pleased to see the king had arranged for a large audience of Ashaki to watch the meeting, including a few who, Merria had learned, disagreed with Lorkin’s treatment. Perfect. Achati stood near the throne, to Dannyl’s relief looking unconcerned.
The monarch’s eyebrows rose as Dannyl pushed the spy to the floor. Following protocol, Dannyl knelt and Tayend, hurrying up beside him, bowed.
“Rise Ambassador Dannyl.” The king looked at the spy. “What is this?”
“Just returning what I am told is your spy, your majesty,” Dannyl replied as he straightened.
The king’s gaze snapped to his. “My spy.”
“Yes, your majesty. Last night this man tried to abduct my former assistant, Lord Lorkin. A Traitor prevented it. She also read his mind and learned that the man was hired by you.” Dannyl looked around at the Ashaki, who looked amused but not shocked. “I request that someone here read his mind to confirm it.”
Heads turned back and forth. Glances were exchanged. A few words were muttered. The king ignored everyone and continued to regard Dannyl.
“Very well. Ashaki Rokaro, would you grant Ambassador Dannyl’s request and tell us if this accusation is true.”
No protest came from the gathering as a man with grey in his hair stepped forward. All watched as the spy’s mind was read. The Ashaki appeared to be doing a thorough and careful mind-read, as it was taking longer than Dannyl had seen one take before. When he let the spy go, the man sagged to the floor again, reaching out to the king like a slave pleading for forgiveness.
“Well, Ashaki Rokaro?” the king prompted.
The Ashaki looked from the spy, to Dannyl, then to the assembled Ashaki.
“It is true,” he said.
Dannyl felt a mild surprise. He’d expected the Ashaki to deny it, or say that the man believed it but had no proof his orders had come from the king. Looking up at the king, Dannyl saw no concern or guilt and felt his stomach sink.
“You say a Traitor helped you,” the king asked.
Dannyl hesitated, a warning chill going through him. “We could hardly refuse.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. Not in the Guild House.”
“And Lorkin?”
“Gone.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. With the Traitors, I imagine.”
“They seem to be his preferred companions these days.” He turned and smiled at Achati with obvious approval. “But at least we have gained what we all desired: freedom for Lorkin in exchange for information.”
Information? Abruptly Dannyl remembered Lorkin’s promise to Achati. “I will answer the question your king most wants to ask me. I will tell you where the Traitors’ home is.”
Dannyl had not believed Lorkin would carry out his promise. He’d assumed Lorkin had some deception in mind. But what if he had given Achati the location of Sanctuary? What if Achati had turned Lorkin over to the king, not helped him escape? Were the Traitors lying about rescuing him in order to take revenge for Lorkin revealing their home? Or did they not know what Lorkin had done yet?
The king glanced at the spy. “I guess I should thank you for returning my spy to me, though he has hardly earned the title.” The king looked up at Dannyl and Tayend. “You may return to the Guild House, Ambassadors.”
Chapter 15
Into the Wasteland
The night air was surprisingly cold, considering how hot it was in the wasteland during the day. Lorkin pulled on the reins, yet again discouraging the hardy little mount he was riding from trying to catch up with the horse in front. She tossed her head in protest, and he heard the water sloshing about in the barrels lashed to her side.
They’d been riding since dusk the day before. The Traitors’ fake Ashaki had taken Lorkin to the edge of the wasteland in his carriage and left him with two male slaves from a nearby estate. The slaves had told Lorkin that they could only take him as far as the hills, where a group of Traitors would meet them. Though they had a spare horse to help carry water and food, they couldn’t carry enough to last them to the mountains and back without raising suspicion.
Looking over his shoulder to the east, Lorkin saw that the sky was beginning to brighten. He hadn’t slept in more than a day, and during the previous two nights he’d had to curl up on a cramped carriage seat. Though he could ease the weariness with Healing magic, the constant travel and fear of discovery was exhausting. Just to sit still for a while would have been welcome, but he doubted he’d be enjoying that for some time.
The hope that Tyvara would be among the Traitors waiting for him gave him a boost of energy every time he thought of her, which he did whenever weariness had him sagging in the saddle. Thought of her warm smile, the sound of her voice, the touch of her bare skin. Soon, he told himself.
He was going to be very disappointed if she wasn’t among them, but not surprised. Tyvara had been forbidden to leave the city for three years, as punishment for killing Riva. But at least she’s safe there, and if she isn’t with them the thought of her will sustain me until I do see her again, he reasoned.
The sound of teeth snapping brought his attention back to his mount again. He saw that she had crept close enough to the horse in front to attempt another bite, and quickly hauled on the reins. Mad, spiteful little beast, he thought, muttering a curse. I’m glad she doesn’t try this on humans.
Though she obediently slowed, the horse in front followed suit. Lorkin opened his mouth to warn the slave, then closed it again as the man gestured for silence. They came to a halt. Even Lorkin’s mount stilled and pricked up her ears.
Lorkin could hear nothing, but one of the slaves slid off his horse and ran up the side of a nearby dune. After crouching for a short time, a dark shape against the paler sand, he hurried back to them.
“A group of eight,” he murmured.
The other slave nodded, then turned to Lorkin. “Probably Traitors. Ichani travel alone, with only a few slaves.”
Lorkin nodded. His heart was racing. He began to dismount, but the slave frowned and shook his head. “Stay put. Just in case we’re wrong.”
The other slave mounted his horse again. They moved into the long, low shadow of a dune, which only half concealed them, but with the brightening sky behind them they would be a little harder to make out.
What if it is an Ichani? Lorkin felt the night’s chill seep into his clothing. What if it is more than one? We can run, but would we get far? Could I stop their attempts to hold us with magic for long enough to escape? I doubt much of Tyvara’s magic is left, and even if I had it all I couldn’t beat several Ichani.
Figures appeared in the valley between the dunes ahead. The glow of the sky had grown warmer, and now bathed the newcomers with gold. Though all wore trousers and tunics, it was easy to distinguish woman from man. Each wore a belt over their tunic, and on each belt was a sheath. Unlike the Ashaki’s blades, the knife handles were undecorated and the sheaths were straight, not curved. As Lorkin recognised the lead figure, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Savara.
She strode toward them, unhurried but purposeful. Looking past her, Lorkin searched for the face he most wanted to see, his pulse speeding even as he braced himself for disappointment. When his eyes found hers, he thought he must be mistaken. Then she smiled, and he felt his heart leap, and an intense longing to draw her into his arms and feel her body against his. He dismounted, as did the slaves, but forced himself to stay still and face the Traitors’ new queen.
“Gal. Tika. Right where you were supposed to be,” Savara said, smiling as she reached the slaves. She turned to Lorkin. “It is good to see you again, Lord Lorkin. We were worried we might have to break into the palace to get you. We
haven’t had to do that in centuries.”
Placing a hand on his heart, he waited. She smiled sadly, then nodded.
“It is good to see you, too, your majesty” he told her. Still unsure of Traitor protocol when a monarch had died, he decided to err on the side of speaking plainly. “I was saddened to hear of Queen Zarala’s passing, but glad to hear of your election.”
She looked down. “She will be remembered.” Her lips pressed together, then she turned to the slaves. As she thanked them, Lorkin looked at Tyvara again and drank in the sight of her, resisting a wave of impatience. It feels like months since I last saw her.
The slaves mounted their horses again, one taking the reins of Lorkin’s horse, and set off toward the east. They disappeared around a dune, toward an orange sun that hinted at the coming daytime onslaught of heat.
“Now, we must travel as quickly as we can manage,” Savara said, turning back to the group and ushering him toward them with an outstretched arm. “Your mother awaits us in the mountains.”
He felt a twinge of apprehension and eagerness, but forgot both as Tyvara stepped forward to meet him. She was smiling broadly.
“I’m so relieved the king let you go. Savara said the king wouldn’t dare harm you, but that didn’t stop me worrying.” She took his hands. Stepping close, she kissed him quickly, but pulled away when he tried to draw her closer, her eyes flickering to the others and giving him a warning look that plainly said “not now”. He felt a petulant disappointment, but put it aside. She was here. That was enough for now.
“I’m not the only one who’s been let out,” he said.
She shrugged. “I have more important things to do than running the sewer. And I’m sure the punishment will resume once we’re done.”
As one the group turned and started in the direction they had come. Someone passed Lorkin a pack, murmuring that he’d find a water bottle inside. He shouldered it and looked across at Tyvara. She was frowning at him.
“What is it?”
She lowered her voice. “Was it bad, in the king’s prison?”
His stomach lurched at the question. Suddenly the lightness in his heart was gone, and weariness returned. He looked away.
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