Read The Rogue Page 40


  “What is it? You just gave something away, didn’t you?” Lilia considered Anyi’s words. “You’ve known Cery since you were a child.” No wonder Anyi was so loyal. Except that she had once wanted to spite him. As if … “He’s your father!”

  Letting out a groan, Anyi nodded. “I am clearly much better at being a bodyguard than keeping secrets.”

  “What’s the problem with people knowing your father’s a Thief?”

  Anyi grimaced. “Skellin had Cery’s second wife and my half-brothers murdered. Well, we think it was him.”

  “Oh.” All Lilia’s satisfaction at guessing the truth melted away. “So you’re afraid that, if he finds out you’re Cery’s daughter, he’ll try to kill you, too.”

  Anyi shrugged. “He’d kill me anyway if he had the chance, because I’m Cery’s bodyguard. It’s more likely he’d do something to me to hurt or blackmail Cery, if he found out we’re related.”

  “Well … your secret’s safe with me. Though if Sonea or Kallen ever read my mind—”

  “Sonea knows. Kallen, on the other hand …” Anyi frowned, then regarded Lilia with one eyebrow raised. “I don’t suppose you feel like running away with me? With Cery’s help, I can take you somewhere the Guild will never find you.”

  Lilia’s heart flipped over. “No. It’s tempting, but staying is … the right thing to do. I never really cared much about that, but I do now.”

  “Even if they put you back in the Lookout? How is that right? It would be a waste.”

  “No.” Lilia shook her head. “I broke a law, and my vow. I did it out of stupidity, not malice, but I need to be seen to be punished so that novices like Naki don’t do the things she did.” She shivered. “The last thing the Guild needs is to waste time and magic looking for me when it should be finding Skellin and Lorandra.”

  But if I did go, Lilia suddenly thought, I could help protect Anyi. And Cery. It would be like returning the favour they gave me …

  Anyi nodded slowly. “Well, it’s your decision.” She placed a hand on Lilia’s and squeezed. “I hope they don’t lock you up, because I’ve got rather fond of you. I’d like to see you again.”

  Lilia smiled in gratitude. “I’d like to see you again, too.”

  A tap at the door drew their attention. Anyi let go of Lilia’s hand and stood up as Sonea entered.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Sonea said. She looked at Anyi. “A rather cryptic message just arrived from Cery.” She handed over a small slip of paper. “I think he wants you to return.”

  Anyi read it and nodded. “He wants me to pick up some sweet buns on the way.” Anyi turned back to Lilia and smiled. “Good luck.”

  To Lilia’s amusement, Sonea beckoned and took her into a small bedroom, closing the door.

  “This is where you’ll sleep,” Sonea told her. She bent to the door, obviously listening. “Cery always has another way of getting into the room than the corridor and I assume Anyi used the same method,” she explained. “I don’t want to know how, in case my mind is ever read.”

  Lilia heard a dull thud. It must have been a signal, for Sonea turned the handle and opened the door. The guest room was now empty. Sonea turned to regard Lilia.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Lilia nodded. Though learning of Naki’s execution had been a shock, she felt better than she had expected. Not happy, but accepting of how things had turned out and hopeful that the future would be better.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

  Sonea smiled. “Hopefully we’ll have a more permanent home for you soon. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.”

  Lorkin woke with a jolt.

  Looking around, he made out his “rescuers” and fellow travel companions in the dim light of the carriage interior. All were asleep. He sighed in relief.

  Since he had first joined them, the three Masters had pestered him for stories of his time among the Traitors. He’d refused to answer questions about even the most trivial details of Traitor life, saying that he dare not say anything until he had permission to from Ambassador Dannyl. Fortunately, their continuing attempts to worm something out of him were in a spirit of trying their luck. His silence on the subject was a challenge to them, but they did not want to risk the censure of those higher up in the Sachakan hierarchy – especially not the king.

  The three men were determined to take Lorkin back to Arvice as quickly as possible. Lorkin hoped their motive was a desire to be credited with his rescue and safe return, rather than an expectation that the king would be eager to get hold of him and extract information. Master Akami had ordered the slaves to drive the carriage as fast as could be managed without ruining the horses, stopping off to change to fresh ones at estates along the way. The slaves took it in turns to drive, those who were resting binding themselves to the exterior seat at the back of the carriage so that they didn’t fall off while they dozed or slept.

  It had grown unpleasantly fragrant in the cabin, not helped by the pungent odour of the hunter’s clothes Lorkin was wearing. They’d insisted he ditch the cape, but when they’d offered him typical Sachakan garb he’d declined, saying it was more appropriate that the next change of clothes he made was into Guild robes.

  Looking out of the carriage window, he saw that everywhere was bathed in a pale light. It illuminated walls on either side of the road, and that could only mean one thing.

  Arvice! We have reached the city! In just two days and nights.

  It seemed incredible, considering how long it had taken him to get from the city to the mountains, but he and Tyvara had been on foot, not in carriages travelling at their fastest, with a change of horses whenever they tired.

  “We’re back,” a voice said. Lorkin looked up to see that Master Akami was awake, stretching his arms and legs, and yawning simultaneously. The young Sachakan smiled at Lorkin, then tapped on the roof. “To the Palace,” he said.

  Lorkin felt a chill run down his spine.

  “Straight to the Palace?” he asked.

  Akami nodded. “We should get you delivered as soon as possible.”

  “But … I need to go the Guild House first. It would be better if I had a bath and changed into robes before I presented myself to the king.” Lorkin grimaced. “It’s early, and if I were the king I wouldn’t want to be woken up only to be greeted by a filthy Kyralian magician.”

  Akami frowned as he considered this.

  “He’s right.”

  Lorkin turned to see that Master Chatiko was awake, rubbing at his eyes. “The Palace will need to be told Lord Lorkin has returned, but they don’t need him hanging about waiting for the king to emerge.” Chatiko yawned. “And it’s likely to be a waste of everyone’s time, since Lord Lorkin is probably obliged to consult with the Ambassador before speaking to the king.”

  Akami looked thoughtful. He nudged Master Voriko with a foot, and the young Sachakan roused himself reluctantly.

  “What do you think, Vori? Take Lorkin to the Palace or the Guild House?”

  Voriko had to be asked three times before he was awake enough to understand. He looked from Lorkin back to Akami, his eyebrows raised in an expression that suggested his friend was an idiot.

  “Take him to the Guild House, of course. They won’t even let him in the Palace, in that state. They mightn’t even recognise him.”

  Akami shrugged, then nodded. He tapped on the roof again. “Take us to the Guild House.”

  As the carriage turned, Lorkin caught a glimpse of the crossroad they had been heading toward. The trees and flowers were familiar. It was the parade that led to the Palace.

  That was close.

  He hoped he didn’t look too relieved.

  A wait followed, in which all but Lorkin and Akami fell asleep again. When the carriage finally passed through the gate of the Guild House, Lorkin let out what he hoped was a silent sigh of relief.

  “Here you are, Lord Lorkin,” Akami said, opening the door wi
th magic. The others woke and sat up. “Welcome back.”

  “Thank you,” Lorkin said. “Thank you for bringing me home, too.”

  Akami smiled and patted Lorkin on the shoulder as he started down the carriage steps. “We’ll let the Palace know you’re back.”

  Lorkin turned and watched the carriage leave. The Guild House slaves pushed gates closed behind it. He turned around to see two slaves lying face-down on the ground. One was the door slave, he remembered.

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  The two slaves rose, keeping their eyes downcast. He felt a long-forgotten disgust and anger at their situation, followed by curiosity. Were either of these men Traitor spies?

  “I am Lord Lorkin, Ambassador Dannyl’s assistant,” he said. “Take me to Ambassador Dannyl.”

  “Ambassador Dannyl is not here,” the door slave said.

  “Oh. Well. Take me inside. I’d like a wash and some clean robes.”

  The door slave beckoned and headed for the Guild House. Lorkin followed, feeling strangely powerful waves of sentimentality at the sight of the Master’s Room and the rendered, curved walls.

  I made it. I’m finally back where it all started.

  The slave paused to whisper to a female slave. She nodded and hurried away. A less pleasant memory rose as the door slave led him into his old rooms: a memory of a dead woman, lying naked on his bed. That room was dark. The slave led him into a different bedroom in the suite, then prostrated himself. Lorkin told him to go.

  Lorkin created a globe light, looked around and nodded. It had been very considerate of the slave to choose another room.

  The female slave returned with a large bowl of water and some towels, then left. Another brought a set of robes. Lorkin warmed the water with magic, then stripped off the hunter’s tunic and began to wash.

  A sound drew his attention back to the doorway. He expected another slave, but instead found himself staring at a woman in green robes. She was staring at him with equal astonishment, and a little hostility.

  Then it occurred to him who she must be.

  “You’re my replacement,” he exclaimed. A woman assistant? Here in Sachaka? He felt instant admiration at her courage in volunteering for the role.

  She blinked, then understanding dawned. “Lord Lorkin! You’re back!”

  He nodded. “Yes. Where’s Ambassador Dannyl?”

  She rolled her eyes. “In Duna, having a nice time getting to know the locals. He left me all alone to deal with anything that turned up.” Her gaze dropped to the hunter’s trousers, then back to his face. “Like you.”

  Duna! It could take weeks before he gets back. What will I do if the king summons me before Dannyl returns?

  “I’m Merria, by the way,” she said. She smiled. “I’ll let you finish. When you’re ready, send one of the slaves to let me know. I’ll be in the Master’s Room. We had better work out what we’re going to do. Do you need to get some sleep first?”

  “No, but some food would be nice.”

  She nodded. “I’ll arrange it.”

  Waking from a doze, Dannyl looked around the cabin. Soft snores were coming from Tayend’s bed. The ship’s pitching and rolling was still pronounced, but it had stopped shuddering and groaning for some time now. Dannyl had no idea how much time had passed. More than a few days, he suspected.

  He heard a heavy footstep, then realised that this was what had woken him. The cabin door opened. Achati paused at the threshold, then let go of the door frame, staggered forward and grabbed the edge of his bed. He crawled onto it and collapsed, face down.

  Dannyl got out of the chair and approached the Sachakan.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Achati groaned, then sighed. “Yes. Just … tired.” He rolled over onto his back with an effort. “Storm’s passed. Go look, if you like.”

  Holding back a chuckle, Dannyl left through the open door, closing it behind him. He climbed the short, steep stair to the upper deck, pushing through the hatch into sunlight.

  The few slaves still about stood with sagging shoulders, holding onto ropes or railing as if too weak to support themselves. The captain sat watching as another slave held the wheel, dark shadows under his eyes. As the man’s eyes met Dannyl’s, he nodded. Dannyl returned the gesture. A faint smile pulled at the captain’s lips, then disappeared.

  Glancing around the ship, Dannyl saw no sign of damage. Looking beyond, he saw that the skies to the south-east were dark with cloud. The edge of the storm, he guessed, moving away from them.

  From the position of the sun, he reckoned it was mid-afternoon. The coast was visible to the right. A featureless land fringed by a short, eroding cliff. He considered the height of the latter thoughtfully. On the journey north he’d noted how the cliffs had grown steadily higher. If he could spot something now to indicate scale, he might be able to estimate how far from Arvice they were.

  “Are we there yet?”

  Surprised, Dannyl turned to see Tayend stepping through the hatch onto the deck. The Elyne looked tired and sick, but not as tired as Achati and not as sick as Tayend would have been if Dannyl hadn’t been Healing away his seasickness since leaving Duna.

  “I have no idea,” Dannyl confessed.

  “Achati’s asleep.” Tayend moved to stand beside Dannyl and looked around. “Storm’s passed.”

  His observations didn’t seem to need an answer, so Dannyl stayed silent. They stared out at the sea. In comfortable, companionable silence, Dannyl thought, but he found that the longer neither of them spoke, the more aware he was of Tayend’s presence.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked eventually.

  “Not too bad.” Tayend shrugged. “I’ll probably take some more of that cure soon.”

  “You don’t have to,” Dannyl assured him.

  “No, it’s fine. I could do with the sleep.”

  Dannyl nodded. “So, did you enjoy the trip?”

  Tayend didn’t answer, and when Dannyl turned to look at him he saw the Elyne’s lips were pursed in thought.

  “Yes and no,” Tayend replied. “I’m a bit disappointed I spent so much of it drugged. When we got to Duna it was better, though that ride up the canyon trail was rather unnerving. The tribes were interesting, but we only stayed a day and they only spoke to you.”

  Dannyl grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

  “Oh, don’t apologise. It wasn’t your decision.”

  They fell silent again. Tayend turned full circle, looking at the ship and checking out the coast. He stopped and faced Dannyl.

  “And you?” he asked. “Come to any decisions?”

  There was an accusing tone to his question. Dannyl turned to frown at Tayend. The Elyne’s eyes were sharp and steady. Though Dannyl knew that Tayend was a lot smarter than his behaviour often suggested, he suddenly found that his former lover looked like an entirely different person. An older person, he thought. A more mature person.

  “I know, Dannyl,” Tayend said in a low voice. “You two are definitely more than … friends. Do you think I wouldn’t be able to tell, after living with you for so long?”

  Dannyl looked away, but not to avoid showing any guilt, he realised. To avoid glaring at Tayend in anger. He resisted the urge to glance back at the captain, or around at the slaves to see if any had heard, and created a barrier around them to contain sound.

  “Nothing happened.”

  Tayend sniffed in disgust. “No?” he said. Dannyl met his gaze. Tayend’s eyes narrowed, then he smiled thinly. “Oh, good. I managed to stop some part of your foolishness, then.”

  “You were keeping us apart!” Dannyl accused. “I thought you might be jealous, but this is—”

  “This has nothing to do with jealousy,” Tayend hissed. “He’s a Sachakan. An Ashaki. A black magician.”

  “You think I haven’t noticed this?”

  “Yes,” Tayend replied, his expression serious. “Because otherwise I’d have to consider that you’re either going senile, are b
lind with love or are turning traitor. Out of those I have no proof of the first two, which leaves me in an awkward position as an Ambassador.”

  “I’m not turning into a traitor,” Dannyl replied. “Last time I looked, having a foreign lover was not an act of treachery, otherwise I’d never have bedded you.”

  Tayend crossed his arms. “This is different. Our lands are allies. Sachaka is …”

  Dannyl raised his eyebrows when Tayend didn’t finish the sentence. “The enemy? It will always be our enemy, if we never stop treating it as one.”

  “It will never be our ally so long as Sachakans like Achati keep slaves and use black magic.” Tayend’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me your position is softening on that, as well.”

  Dannyl shook his head. “Of course not.”

  “Good. Because I’m watching you, Ambassador Dannyl. The moment you turn into a Sachakan, I’ll know.” Tayend turned away and moved back to the hatch, forcing Dannyl to quickly drop his sound-blocking shield. “Now I’m going to get some proper sleep.”

  As the hatch closed, Dannyl turned away to stare at the sea again.

  Turn into a Sachakan. How ridiculous.

  But as so often happened with Tayend, he felt a little seed of doubt take root. What if he was? Was Achati the cause? Or was it simply that he was growing too used to the Sachakan way of doing things?

  If that’s so, then there’s nothing to worry about. Everything will return to normal once we get back to the Guild House.

  CHAPTER 29

  THE DECISION

  Most novices never get to see this room, Lilia thought as she followed Black Magician Sonea into Administrator Osen’s office. I’ve seen it more times than I’d ever want to.

  The Administrator was sitting behind his desk and Black Magician Kallen was reclining in one of the guest chairs, but they both stood up as she and Sonea arrived. A third magician, hidden behind the back of the chair he was sitting in, got to his feet. To her surprise, it was University Director Jerrik.