The Traitor Queen

by Trudi Canavan

  Not that I should. It is what I brought him for. If he wasn’t so determined that we do it, I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to ask for it. Especially not now.

  But she couldn’t fault his timing. Mornings were better times for transferring power than evenings since they’d joined their Traitor guides. After giving her his power, he was vulnerable. When riding with the Traitors, Sonea was unlikely to be separated from him, and Saral was probably obliged to protect them. If someone tried to attack him, it would most likely be during their stay in estates. Perhaps a slave who, like the first they’d met, resented the Guild for not freeing them after the Sachakan War. Perhaps an Ashaki’s wife, mother or daughter, thinking that the Guild had colluded with the Traitors. By evening most of Regin’s powers were restored and he was better able to protect himself.

  “So tell us of Queen Savara’s team.” Saral glanced at Sonea. “First tell us, how fares the pale young man, Lorkin?”

  Veli shrugged. “He was well.” He looked at Sonea and frowned. “Is he Kyralian?”

  “Yes,” Saral nodded. “He is Black Magician Sonea’s son.”

  The ex-slave glanced at Sonea in surprise. “A Kyralian fighting with Traitors?”

  “He is a Traitor now. He has joined us.” Saral smiled. “What of the rest? How many were there in the queen’s team?”

  “Thirty-two,” he told her.

  “Good. Another team has joined them. It is good to know everything is going to plan, more or less. Any news of losses?”

  Veli nodded. As he listed names, Sonea tried to ignore the sudden, panicked surge of her heartbeat. It’s hard enough hearing the words “Lorkin” and “fighting’ spoken in relation to each other, but it is worse to then contemplate that even Traitors who have trained and prepared for this battle are dying. Be careful, Lorkin. Please, don’t let me outlive you as well.

  Staring up at the ceiling, Lorkin cursed silently. Once again, he couldn’t get to sleep.

  The building they were in was the average size for a country estate, but two more teams had joined Savara’s and there simply weren’t enough beds for everyone. Most Traitors now slept on the floor each night. Neither discomfort nor the sound of breathing should have prevented him from getting any sleep. He was tired after a long day of travelling.

  It’s being so close to so many minds, he told himself. But that wasn’t entirely true, either. He could only hear the occasional surface thought, and only if he concentrated hard. No, it was the place to which his mind kept wandering whenever he let it drift that kept him awake.

  Or places. When I’m not remembering the slave girl I gave the poisoned water to, and wondering if she was a Traitor, I’m worrying about Tyvara getting killed in battle. Or me. Or Mother getting caught up in it – why couldn’t she have just gone home!

  And then there was Kalia.

  At least the woman had stopped muttering “spy” all the time. Or she’d stopped doing so when he could hear her. She still gave him and Tyvara looks filled with hatred, but that didn’t bother him. It was the way she looked at Savara that had him worried.

  Never with open dislike, he thought. It’s the way she’s all humble and obedient whenever Savara looks her way, then she narrows her eyes and smiles whenever Savara’s attention is elsewhere. It’s the feeling of expectation I sense whenever I concentrate on her presence.

  So far he hadn’t picked up any distinct surface thoughts from her. Kalia appeared to be as sly in thought as she was in nature. She kept her mind quiet, her main surface thoughts being short and mostly criticisms of others. He’d lost count of the times he’d heard the word “idiot!” burst from her mind.

  What is she expecting? Is she hoping Savara will fail or be killed, or is she actually scheming to ensure either happens?

  Kalia was sleeping on the other side of the room. Though he knew he’d probably have no better success reading her mind than before, he steadied his breathing and began to concentrate. Anything to turn his mind from less pleasant memories. Slowly he shifted his senses outward. From most of the Traitors he sensed little more than their presence. Though a few were still awake, their thoughts were too quiet to hear.

  Then he heard a familiar mental voice and he felt cold rush through his body. It was the same mental voice that had spoken into his own mind months before in Sanctuary, the same presence that had gone seeking information he did not want to give.

  —… they’ll blame her. All the deaths. I’ll make sure they do … can’t let Savara rule … better if she dies in battle … arrange that … but how? When she’s weak … Speakers will falter. Tyvara is too young … foolish to pick her … nobody will follow her … better if she dies too … but how?

  Lorkin realised he had been holding his breath, and made himself exhale slowly and quietly. I was wrong. Now that she’s not subconsciously hiding her thoughts they are loud and clear. They’ve been amplified by malice and glee. She’s going to make sure Savara dies in the coming battle. Tyvara too, if she can.

  Did Savara know? Surely she saw that Kalia would take advantage of any situation that would weaken her position or get rid of her. But Savara didn’t know how far Kalia was prepared to go.

  If I tell her, I’ll have to reveal that I can read surface thoughts. Mother warned me not to do that. He had to admit, his mother was right. He wouldn’t like to know that someone could read his thoughts so easily. Not even someone he liked. Even if he understood their ability was very limited he’d still be constantly wondering which thoughts they’d heard. He’d want to stay away from them, in case he let slip something private or a secret entrusted to him.

  Would Tyvara feel that way? How would I feel if Tyvara could read my surface thoughts? He looked at her, lying beside him, eyes closed and breathing slowly. I trust her. Then why hadn’t he told her about the slave girl he’d killed? I don’t want her to think I could do that.

  But he had. Perhaps it was time he told her. No. One challenging admission at a time. Warning her about Kalia is more important. And I have to warn her, even if it means revealing my ability to Tyvara. If Kalia’s plan works, they’ll both die.

  He reached out to touch Tyvara’s arm. She frowned but her eyes remained closed.

  —Tyvara.

  Her eyes fluttered open. As her gaze met his he felt a rush of affection. She was so beautiful, even in the dim light. She must have sensed it, as he felt surprise, pleasure and then a mix of fondness and, gratifyingly, desire.

  —Lorkin? What’s going on? Her mental voice was fuzzy with sleep.

  —Kalia is planning to betray Savara.

  Her eyes widened and he felt her stiffen under his touch, and sensed alarm sweep aside affection.

  —How do you know?

  —I can only tell you if you promise not to tell anybody else. She stared at him.

  —I promise, but only if it doesn’t endanger my people.

  —It won’t. He explained, and told her what he had overheard. Tyvara’s eyes widened as he did.

  —You can … how long have you been able to do this?

  —Since I was in the palace prison. Mother says people believed my father could do it. She thought it was an exaggeration. That he was unusually observant.

  —How often have you picked up surface thoughts from me?

  —Not often. When we were reunited I heard a few words. That was when I realised I hadn’t been imagining it before. Since then … not deliberately. Only once or twice by accident. I have to concentrate hard, and it doesn’t seem polite to listen in on other people’s thoughts.

  —Except with Kalia. She sounded amused.

  —No. I was certain she was planning something. Now I know for sure. Savara is in danger. You are too.

  —And you. Savara’s approval and confidence in you goes a long way to convince others that you can be trusted. She frowned as if something had occurred to her.

  —What is it?

  —How does someone accidentally concentrate hard?

  His heart skipped
and he sensed suspicion. Was she repelled by him now? He searched for an answer that she might approve of.

  —When I’m paying particularly close attention to you.

  Abruptly her frown vanished and she grinned.

  —There could be some interesting advantages in having someone around who knows when you want something.

  He rolled his eyes.

  —How about we stop thinking of ways you can order me around and work out what to do about Kalia.

  Her smile faded.

  —We have to tell Savara.

  —Can we do that without revealing my new ability to her? Can we just tell her that we overheard Kalia speaking?

  —Lie to Savara? I can’t do that. Besides, she’ll want to know who Kalia was talking to.

  —Not lie, avoid telling more than we have to for now. We’ll say she was talking to herself.

  —Kalia debating betrayal aloud? She isn’t that stupid. Savara is going to need proof if she’s to deal with Kalia.

  —Then she’ll have to prove to everyone that I can do this and that my word can be trusted. Kalia will point out that I’ve kept a secret from them all and say it’s proof I’m a spy.

  Savara let out a little sigh of frustration. Lorkin took her hand and squeezed it.

  —At least we know Kalia is planning something. We can keep an eye on her. Wait until she makes her move, then stop her.

  —That’s not going to look good. Savara will be angry that we didn’t warn her. Kalia will claim we set her up. No. We have to tell Savara. I can’t see any other way. But I don’t think she’ll tell anyone else. It will make people distrust you, and that will cause too many problems for us right now.

  Lorkin thought of his mother’s warning, then sighed.

  —I hope you’re right. When do you want to do it?

  —Now. It’s our best chance of getting her alone.

  As Tyvara stood up Lorkin followed suit. He resisted looking over to Kalia as they crept out of the room. I hope I’m not going to regret this.

  Savara was in the kitchen, sitting at a long wooden table with two of the estate’s former slaves. She sent the women away, invited him and Tyvara to sit opposite her, then listened as Tyvara explained what Lorkin had heard from Kalia. Savara’s gaze fixed on Lorkin, her eyes slowly narrowing.

  “So,” she said in a quiet but slightly clipped tone, “what else haven’t you told us, Lorkin?”

  Lorkin immediately thought of the slave girl. He winced, then instantly regretted it. He felt Tyvara move away from him, and turned to see her staring at him.

  “There’s something else?”

  He looked from her to Savara. In unison, the two women crossed their arms and fixed him with a stare of expectation. It would have been funny, if he wasn’t facing an admission he’d been dreading.

  He dropped his gaze to the table, took a deep breath and forced the words out from where he’d locked them away. “When I was in the prison, they tortured a slave girl to see if it would make me speak. I … I gave her water I knew was poisoned. It had the warning glyphs you said to watch for. I thought she was a Traitor and knew what she was doing.”

  He heard Tyvara’s indrawn breath, but could not bring himself to look up and see if it was from horror at what he’d done, or sympathy.

  “You want to know if she was a Traitor,” Savara said.

  He made himself meet her eyes. “Yes.”

  “You know it won’t make a difference.”

  He shrugged. “But I won’t be wondering any more.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “She was not, as far as I know. You made a hard and terrible choice, and one you can never know was right or wrong.” Savara reached across the table, took his hand and squeezed it.

  “Our spies make these choices all the time,” Tyvara told him. “We can hardly hold it against you.”

  Savara let go of his hand and smiled. “Anything else you wish to confess?” she asked lightly.

  He thought of the stone he was carrying. Either I reveal what I know now, or never confront them with the truth. If the Traitors find out later that I’ve learned about it, and that the Guild has discovered their secret, they will be angry. And with Kalia trying to make them mistrust me, and Savara now having reason to worry about me because of my ability to read surface thoughts …

  “You’re not actually looking for things to confess, are you?” Tyvara asked, shaking her head.

  “Not exactly,” he said. He turned to Savara. “There are going to be things I won’t want to tell you. Things about the Guild. I may not be a Guild magician any more, but I don’t want to make them my enemy, either. Or yours.”

  Savara nodded. “I understand.”

  “I also don’t want to bring about harm to the Traitors from not having told you something.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  He reached into his pocket and brought out the stone from the wasteland. As he placed it on the table in front of Savara her expression changed to dismay.

  “Ah.”

  He looked at Tyvara. She looked a little sheepish, he was glad to see.

  “Mother gave it to me,” he told them.

  Tyvara cursed.

  “Indeed,” Savara agreed. “But we’ve been very lucky that nobody worked out what they were before now. We’d be even more so if what our predecessors did was never discovered.” She looked up at him. “You understand why they did, don’t you?”

  “To do what the Guild was accused of: ruin the land to keep Sachaka weak.”

  She nodded. “Not permanently. It will recover.”

  “And you’ll get the credit for restoring it.”

  She reached out to take the stone. “Now that the Guild knows, I doubt we will.” She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “In the long term, it won’t matter. We will win, repair the damage and be forgiven, or we will lose and the Ashaki will do it and we’ll be forever hated. The land will be restored either way.”

  “So what do we do about Kalia?” Tyvara asked. “Can we lure her into making her move?”

  Savara straightened. “No. If we do she’ll claim we set her up, by taking advantage of her doubts. We do nothing.”

  “But …”

  The queen looked up at Tyvara. “Don’t think that I’ll ignore her, or trust her.” She shook her head and sighed. “When offering a person a chance at redemption, you can’t force them to take it.”

  “And Lorkin’s ability?”

  “Tell nobody of that, either. The Traitors are tolerant, but this will stretch their trust too far.” She stood up. “Halana is always telling me I need guards. I choose you two. You’ll have to stay close to me at all times, even sleep nearby, but at least you can keep an eye on Kalia when my attention has to be elsewhere.”

  Tyvara smiled. “You know I’d be the first to offer. And you know we’ll be good company as well.”

  “Yes.” Savara sighed, then she looked at Lorkin and narrowed her eyes. “No reading my surface thoughts, though.”

  He shook his head. “I would never dream of it.”

  As more pages broke from the spine of the old record, Dannyl sighed. He really ought to leave it be, but he needed something to fill the long, empty hours so he was rereading some of the books he’d acquired. It had been days since Achati’s visit. Nobody else had visited the Guild House. Tayend had received no invitations. Merria had heard nothing from her friends.

  A sense of expectation filled the House. They came together at meals and talked for long hours afterwards, going their separate ways once they realised they were circling around the same old worries and speculations one time too many. Dannyl consulted Osen twice a day now. The Administrator would report on Sonea and Regin’s progress and a few Guild matters that would have seemed more important if Dannyl hadn’t been stuck in a city about to be overtaken by civil war.

  “Ambassador Dannyl.”

  Looking up from the record, Dannyl found Kai standing in the doorway of
his office.

  “Kai,” Dannyl replied. “What can I do for you?”

  The slave smiled and Dannyl felt a strange confusion. It was as if Kai had become a stranger. He realised he’d never seen Kai smile. And then something else occurred to him.

  Kai had not thrown himself to the floor. He had addressed Dannyl by name.

  “You Kyralians are strange,” Kai said. “But it is a good strange.”

  Dannyl’s mind was racing. What did this mean? You know what it means.

  “They’re here, aren’t they? The Traitors.”

  Kai shook his head. “Not yet. Tomorrow. We have decided to leave now. The Ashaki know. They are killing slaves.”

  Dannyl frowned. “But surely you are safer here. We won’t harm you.”

  “I know.” Kai smiled again. “You can’t stop others, though. They will come seeking power. Or revenge. Or both. You should leave, too.”

  “Our orders are to stay.” Dannyl pushed away a simmering fear.

  “Then I wish you good luck.”

  “And I to you.” Dannyl forced himself to meet the slave’s eyes. “And I apologise, on behalf of the magicians who stayed here, if we have done anything … ah, who am I kidding?” He spread his hands. “The whole slave and master thing was wrong. And disturbingly easy to get used to.”

  “We made it so.” Kai shrugged. “It was what we were trained to do. But not any more.”

  “No.” Dannyl smiled. “I hope the Traitors succeed.”

  “I hope you will be safe and stay alive.” The slave took a step back, then hesitated. “Have you ever explored the parts of the House the slaves occupied?”

  “Not fully,” Dannyl admitted.

  “Do so,” Kai advised. “More than just the kitchens when you get hungry. There are places you might hide in, and other exits. They may save you.”

  Dannyl nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

  Kai grinned. Then he stepped away from the door and walked, shoulders straight, out of the suite.

  For a long time Dannyl stared through the empty doorway, then he got to his feet. No point in wasting time or Kai’s advice. He didn’t say when the Traitors would arrive tomorrow. It could happen first thing in the morning. Or the Ashaki might attack us overnight. I can’t help thinking that if both Achati and the slaves think we’re in danger, we are. Best start making plans to get out of here if we need to.