Lilia could not help looking over at Naki’s former companion. The talker was staring at them, looking confused and a little peeved. Lilia glanced at her companions. The girls were surprised, and the boys had that fearful and wistful expression they usually wore when Naki was close.
She said “… what you were doing”. It didn’t sound like it included all of us.
She turned back to Naki. “Not much,” Lilia said honestly, wincing at the lameness of her reply. “Just eating.”
“What were you talking about?” Naki prompted, glancing at the others.
“Whether we chose the right discipline,” one of the others said. Lilia shrugged and nodded.
“Ah,” Naki said. “I was tempted to choose Warrior, but for all that it’s fun I can’t see myself spending my life doing it. I’ll keep up my skills, of course, in case we’re ever invaded again, but I decided Alchemy would be more useful.”
“That’s what I thought about Healing,” Lilia told her. “More useful.”
“True, but I’ve never been much good at Healing.” Naki smiled wryly.
As Naki continued chatting, Lilia’s surprise slowly began to melt away. Somehow, by smiling at someone across the room, or perhaps because the talker on the other table had been boring, a beautiful and admired novice was chatting to her like they were new friends.
For whatever reason it had occurred, she resolved to enjoy the moment. Because she certainly didn’t think it would happen again.
CHAPTER 3
ACCUSATIONS AND PROPOSALS
The three days since Lorkin and Evar had been ordered to remain in the men’s room and stay there until the Speakers were all available to meet and deal with them had been surprisingly enjoyable.
“For doing what?” Evar had delighted in asking anyone who suggested that accusations or punishments would be directed at them. Nobody could say exactly what he or Lorkin were going to be accused of. Which gave Lorkin some confidence. Everyone knows there isn’t a rule or law or even an order that Evar or I have broken. If there was, I’m sure they’d have locked me away in a room on my own.
The occupants of the men’s room thought it was all very funny. Since the governance of Sanctuary was out of their reach, they delighted in any errors their leaders made – so long as those mistakes didn’t affect everyone badly, of course. They were so pleased that Lorkin and Evar had showed the Speakers up for fools that they had brought them gifts and spent time making sure their new heroes never grew bored.
Three of them were teaching Lorkin a game involving gemstones that had failed to take on any magical properties and a painted board. The game was called “Stones”, and they’d chosen it because gemstones were what he had got into trouble over.
A growing audience was hovering nearby. A few men were talking to Evar, and several more were scattered about the room, doing their usual chores or relaxing. So when the room began to quieten all of a sudden, everyone paused and looked up to see what the cause was. The men standing between Lorkin and the room’s entrance shuffled aside. Lorkin looked beyond them, saw who was standing there, and felt his heart stop beating and stomach start to flutter.
“Tyvara,” he said.
A smile fleetingly touched her lips, then she was serious again. She walked gracefully toward him, ignoring the men staring at her. Being the focus of those beautiful, exotic eyes sent a shiver of pleasure down Lorkin’s spine. Oh, I definitely haven’t got over her, he thought. If anything, the time she’s been away has made seeing her again even more exciting.
“I want to talk to you in private,” she said, stopping a few steps away and crossing her arms.
“Love to,” he said. “But I’m not supposed to leave the room. On Kalia’s orders.”
She frowned, then shrugged and looked around the room. “Then the rest of you leave.”
She watched as the men, muttering good naturedly, made their way out, and noted that Evar hadn’t moved. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Under the same orders – but don’t worry,” he said, standing up and moving away. “I’ll stay over there and try not to listen.”
Tyvara watched, one eyebrow raised in amusement as he moved away to the food preparation area, before looking down at Lorkin.
He smiled. It was too easy to smile at her. He was at risk of grinning like an idiot. Her long dark hair was clean and the dark hollows under her eyes were gone. He’d found her alluring before; now she was even more beautiful than imagination had painted his memory of her.
I wasn’t like this when we were travelling, he thought. Maybe I was too tired …
“I guess this will have to do,” she said quietly, uncrossing her arms.
“What do you want to talk about?” he managed to ask.
She sighed, then sat down and fixed him with a direct stare that set his heart racing. “What are you up to Lorkin?”
He felt a vague disappointment. What did I expect? That she’d invite me to her rooms for a night of … He quickly pushed the thought aside.
“If I was up to something, why would I tell you?” he countered.
Her eyes flashed with anger. She glared at him, then stood up and started toward the door. His heart leapt in alarm. He couldn’t let her leave so soon!
“Is that all you’re going to ask me?” he called after her.
“Yes,” she replied, without turning.
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
She slowed, then stopped and looked back at him. He beckoned. Sighing, she walked back to the seat and dropped into it, her arms crossed again.
“What then?” she asked.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in months. What has Riva’s family got you doing?”
She regarded him thoughtfully, then uncrossed her arms. “I’m fine. I’d rather be out there doing some good, of course, but …” She shrugged. “Riva’s family have me working the sewer tunnels.
He grimaced. “That can’t be pleasant, or interesting.”
“They think it’s as nasty a task as they could come up with, but I don’t mind it. This city needs its waste removed as much as it needs defending, and being a slave can involve much more unpleasant duties than that. But it is boring. I may end up hating it for that, alone.”
“You should come by and visit. I’ll try to entertain you, though I can’t promise it won’t be anything more than the silly mistakes a foreigner makes in an unfamiliar place.”
She smiled. “Has it been difficult?”
He spread his hands. “At times, but everyone has been friendly, and while I never wanted to be a Healer, at least I’m being useful.”
Her smile disappeared and she shook her head. “I never thought they’d put you in Kalia’s hands, knowing that she wanted you dead.”
“They know she’ll keep an eye on me better than anyone else.”
“And now you’ve made a fool of her,” she pointed out.
“Poor Kalia,” he said, without a trace of sympathy.
“She’ll make your life hard for this.”
“She does anyway.” Lorkin raised his eyes to hers. “You didn’t expect me to try to befriend her, did you?”
“I thought you smart enough to avoid giving her excuses to stir people up against you.”
He shook his head. “Lying low and keeping out of trouble will not get me that.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowing. “One foolish Kyralian boy cannot change the Traitors, Lorkin.”
“Probably not, if they don’t want to,” he agreed. “But it seems to me the Traitors do want to. It seems to me some major changes are definitely part of their future plans. I am no foolish boy, Tyvara.”
Her eyebrows rose, then she stood up. “I have to go.” She slowly turned and walked away. He watched her hungrily, hoping the sight of her would imprint in his memory clearly.
“Come visit some time,” he called after her. She looked back and smiled, but said nothing. Then she was gone.
> Moments later, the men began returning to the room. Lorkin sighed, then looked around to find Evar making his way across to the table. The young magician sat down, his eyes bright.
“Oh, what wouldn’t I do to get under the rug with that one,” he said quietly.
Lorkin resisted the urge to glare at his friend. “You’re not the only one,” he replied, hoping the young man would take the hint.
“No. Most men here would do anything for a night with her,” Evar agreed, not picking up Lorkin’s meaning – or pretending not to. “But she’s picky. Doesn’t want to get attached. She’s not ready.”
“Not ready for what?”
“Pairing. She doesn’t want to stop doing the dangerous work. Spying. Assassination.”
“Does having a man prevent that? I can’t imagine men could prevent the women doing anything here.”
Evar shrugged. “No, but when the women are away for long stretches, and might be killed, they know it’s hard on a man. It’s certainly hard for their children.” His eyebrows rose. “Actually, Tyvara’s caution is probably because of her mother, who died on a mission when she was young. Her father was devastated, and Tyvara had to look after him. She was … oh. I think it’s time.”
Lorkin followed the young magician’s gaze to the room entrance. A young female magician was standing there, beckoning to him. He exchanged a sympathetic look with Evar.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Good luck.”
“You, too.”
They stood up and headed for the doorway, Lorkin reached it first. The woman looked him up and down and smirked. Lorkin figured she was considering his ability to cause her trouble, but couldn’t quite shake off the impression she was considering his potential for much more recreational physical activity.
“The Table is assembled and they want to talk to you both. You’re to go first.” She nodded at Lorkin. “Follow me.”
They walked in silence. The people they passed barely glanced at them, adding to the impression that nobody was taking his tour of the stone-makers’ caves all that seriously. Finally, they reached the entrance to the Speaker’s Chamber and stopped. Seven women sat around the curved stone table at the low end, but the tiers of seats fanning out from it for an audience were empty. Lorkin noted that the gem-encrusted chair for the Traitors’ queen was empty, as he expected. The old monarch only joined in the more important ceremonies, and he doubted she’d be at all interested in attending this one.
Director Riaya, a thin, tired-looking woman who guided proceedings, saw him and beckoned. He left Evar and the escort and walked toward the Speakers. Stopping before the table, he turned to face Riaya.
“Lorkin,” Riaya said. “You’ve been summoned before us to explain your presence in the stone-makers’ cave three nights ago. What purpose did you have there?”
“To view the stones in their stages of development,” he replied.
“That is all?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Why did you want to view the stones?” one of the Speakers asked.
He turned to regard her. Yvali was her name, and she tended to side with Kalia and the Traitor faction that had wanted him killed for his father’s misdeeds. But she did not always support them, he’d noted.
“Curiosity,” he replied. “I’d been told so much about them, their beauty and the skill involved in creating them, that I wanted to see them for myself. I have seen nothing like them before.”
“Did you learn all you wanted to learn?”
He shrugged. “I would like to learn how to make them, of course, but I did not expect to learn that by looking at them. Evar assured me it was not possible, and if he had not I would not have gone there. Just as you respect my right to keep secure the valuable knowledge I am entrusted with, I respect yours.”
There. That should remind them of the potential for a trade between the Guild and Traitors.
Kalia’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, but the others looked more thoughtful than sceptical. As he let his gaze move along the line of women, he noted the faintest smile curling Savara’s lips, but it vanished as he met her gaze.
Speaker Savara had been Tyvara’s mentor and was the unofficial leader of the faction that opposed Kalia’s. She had been charged with making sure he was “obedient and useful” as well.
“Why didn’t you inform anyone other than Evar of your intention to visit the caves?” she asked.
“I was not aware that I needed to.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Someone who acknowledges that the secret of making the stones is ours to keep should be smart enough to work out that we want to be consulted before any tours of the stone-makers’ cave are undertaken.”
He hung his head a little. “I apologise. I still find the more subtle manners of Sanctuary a little confusing. I will try harder to learn and adapt.”
She gave the faintest snort, but said nothing more, instead looking at the Director and shaking her head. The other Speakers also shook their heads, and whatever this indicated made the Director sigh faintly.
“Since you have not broken a law or rule, or disobeyed an order, you are not to be punished,” Riaya said. “We are partly to blame for not anticipating this situation, but we can prevent it occurring again. Lorkin,” she paused and fixed him with an unwavering stare, “you are ordered to keep away from the stone-making caves, unless taken there by a Speaker or her representative. Is that clear?”
He gave her a typical shallow Kyralian bow. “Perfectly.”
She nodded. “You may go.”
He walked away, fighting the urge to smile, knowing that anyone who saw it might interpret it as proof he had been up to something – or at least did not take this little slap on the wrist seriously. Then Evar entered the room, his thin face taut with worry, and the urge to smile vanished.
As they passed, Lorkin nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring way. The young magician grimaced, but his eyes seemed to warm a little at Lorkin’s gesture. Stepping into the corridor, Lorkin felt a pang of guilt at getting his friend into trouble.
Evar knew what he was getting into, he reminded himself. It was mostly his idea, and I did try to talk him out of it. We both knew that if we were discovered, though we would break no laws, Kalia would find a way to punish us anyway.
He suspected the young magician had his own reasons for arranging something that would irk the leaders of Sanctuary. There had definitely been some sort of vengeance or spite involved. Whenever Lorkin had tried to find out what it was, Evar had muttered things about the Traitors not being as fair as they claimed to be.
Whatever the reason, Lorkin hoped the young man had gained whatever satisfaction he’d been seeking, and that he wouldn’t come to regret it.
As the carriage pulled to a gentle stop before the Sachakan king’s palace, Dannyl drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A slave opened the door of the vehicle and stepped aside. Climbing out, Dannyl paused to smooth his robes and look up at the building.
A wide central archway lay ahead of him. From either side, white walls rippled outwards in wide curves. Above them, only narrow bands of gold were visible of the shallow domes that topped the building.
Dannyl straightened his back, fixed his eyes on the shadowed corridor within the archway, and strode inside. He passed immobile guards, one of the few classes of free servants in Sachaka. It was better to have willing, loyal men protecting you than resentful, easily cowed slaves, Dannyl mused. Guards who were obliged to throw themselves to the ground every time a free man or woman walked by weren’t going to be much good at stopping invaders.
As in the typical Sachakan home, the entry corridor was straight and took visitors to a large room designed for greeting guests. Only this corridor was wide enough for six men to walk abreast. According to Ashaki Achati, the walls were hollow and contained concealed holes, so that attackers could shoot arrows and darts at unwelcome visitors. Dannyl could see no obvious holes and hatches, but he suspected the alcoves that we
re spaced along the corridor, each containing a beautifully crafted pot, could be reached from within, their inner surface broken if needed. Picturing such a scenario, he wondered if the warriors within the walls would carefully put the precious vessels aside, or knock them out of the way.
The other difference between a humble Sachakan mansion and the palace was that the corridor ended at a very large room. Dannyl entered the great hall, feeling his skin prickle in the cold air. Walls, floor and the many columns that supported the ceiling were polished white stone, as was the throne.
Which was empty.
Dannyl slowed as he approached the stone chair, trying not to look dismayed or worried by the absence of the monarch who had summoned him. As always, there were a few Sachakan men in the room: a group of three to the left and a lone man to the right. All wore elaborately decorated short jackets over plain shirts and trousers, the traditional formal garb of Sachakan men. All were watching Dannyl.
Into the silence and stillness came slow, firm footsteps. All attention shifted to a doorway to the right. The four Sachakans bowed deeply as King Amakira strode past them. Dannyl dropped to one knee – the Kyralian obeisance appropriate to a king.
“Rise, Guild Ambassador Dannyl,” he said.
Dannyl stood. “Greetings, King Amakira. It is an honour to be summoned to the palace again.”
The old king’s gaze was sharp, his expression thoughtful and amused as if he were considering something.
“Come with me, Ambassador Dannyl. There is something I wish to discuss with you and it would be better explored in more comfortable surrounds.”
The king turned and strode back toward the side entrance. Dannyl followed, keeping a few steps back and to the side of the monarch, since he had not been invited to walk beside him. They moved into a corridor, crossed it and went through a door held open by a guard into a smaller room. The furniture and decorations were, once again, more elaborate versions of typical Sachakan ones. Stools were larger and highly decorated. Cupboards were so big they could only have been assembled in the room, since the doors, though large enough for two people to pass through side by side, were too small to allow them through. Cushions on the floor were encrusted with so many gemstones that Dannyl doubted they were comfortable, suspecting that sitting on them might even cause injury to clothing or skin.