The first was a woman who moved with the dignity and tension of a leader, which made her seem taller despite being close to Sonea in height. Her facial features were so Sachakan that, for a brief moment, Sonea’s blood turned cold. She had the same broad forehead, high cheekbones, and upward tilting eyes of the Ichani who had invaded Kyralia. But those men, and the sole woman among them, had been heavier in build. The Traitors were smaller and more graceful.
If she had guessed right, the first woman was Savara, the queen. The woman was dressed no differently to the rest of the group. All twelve carried a pack and wore simple clothing. Eight women and four men. Sonea’s eyes snapped to the tallest of the men and her heart leapt. Lorkin!
He smiled as she saw him. She resisted the urge to run forward and hug him, worried that any moves in the Traitors’ direction might make them react defensively. And Lorkin might not appreciate her being overly affectionate in front of these people.
So she restrained herself and settled for looking him over closely. He looks healthy, though tired. The way he looked at the woman walking beside him, then back to Sonea, made it clear that this was Tyvara, the Traitor who had saved his life. The woman he had agreed to be locked away in Sanctuary for.
She is very attractive, Sonea thought. The young woman returned Sonea’s gaze with curiosity and a hint of calculation. No doubt she’s measuring me up as much as I’m appraising her. That wasn’t all that Sonea detected in her manner, however. It wasn’t exactly confidence. More a grim determination. That girl has seen far more than any Kyralian woman her age. I would wager she has experienced more as well. But then, she was posing as a slave when she saved Lorkin, and that would mean enduring a lot of pain and humiliation.
Sonea looked away from Tyvara back to the leader, who slowed as she took the last steps to meet Sonea and Regin. As she stopped, the others came to a halt behind her.
“Black Magician Sonea?” she asked, smiling at Sonea.
Sonea nodded. “Yes.”
“I am Savara, queen of the Traitors.” She turned to introduce the rest of the group. None had titles. Well, Lorkin did say they treat everyone equally – on the surface at least. “You do not need to be introduced to your son, of course,” Savara finished. “It is my pleasure to reunite you, and to finally meet you.”
“And you, your majesty,” Sonea replied. She gestured to Regin. “This is Lord Regin, my assistant.”
Regin inclined his head. “An honour to meet you, Queen Savara, and your people.” He placed a hand over his heart. Savara’s eyebrows twitched upward, then she inclined her head gracefully.
“Let’s sit.” She gestured to the flat ground beside the spring. “We have walked far and need to rest, eat and drink.”
She turned and nodded to the others, some of whom moved past her toward the spring. Sonea silently thanked Regin, who had thought to replace the gemstone in the pool. Osen had suggested she keep her knowledge of the gems to herself unless there was an advantage to be gained.
The group began to shrug off packs. They formed a circle, leaving a gap for Sonea and Regin. Lorkin sat down beside Sonea, and Tyvara settled on his other side. Someone created a small globe light and set it glowing in the middle, just above the ground. Food was brought out and placed in the centre. It consisted of simple fare for travelling: hard, flat bread, dried meats and fruit, nuts and pastes for the bread.
Sonea took out the remains of her and Regin’s own supplies – pachi fruit, grains and dried beans to be boiled in water, spices, sumi and hard sweets – and offered them. They were taken without any thanks spoken, but with appreciative nods and smiles. She was intrigued to see one of the men place a metal disk with a gemstone embedded in the centre on a flat rock, touch the stone, then place a wide pan full of water on top. Soon the water was boiling and he was adding the grain and beans. Clearly men aren’t forbidden to use magic. That makes their law against men learning magic not as restrictive as it first seems, though they still rely on the women making the stones. I wonder if they have to get permission to use them.
One of the Traitors was examining the pouch of sumi leaves with puzzlement.
“They’re for a hot drink,” Sonea explained. “I’ll prepare some later.”
“Like raka?” one of them asked.
Sonea shook her head. “Same idea, different plant.” The supplies provided at the Fort hadn’t included raka.
“We have raka.”
She straightened. “You do?”
Savara chuckled. “It is a good drink to have while talking. Or negotiating.”
The food was passed around, each person taking a portion. Sonea added spices to the beans and grains when they were ready. The Traitors were particularly fond of the sweets. Savara prepared a pot of raka and surprisingly small cups were passed to her for filling. Sonea’s own mug returned barely half full, but as she sipped she realised why. The raka was so strong it was syrupy, and after a few sips she felt as if her ears were buzzing.
As each Traitor received their cup they rose and moved away, until only Savara remained. It was full night now, and more globe lights appeared as those who had left gathered in smaller groups several paces away. Savara moved closer, so that they formed a smaller circle.
“We arrived later than we hoped, and you must be anxious to return to Kyralia, so let us begin without delay.” She looked at Lorkin. “It was the wish of our late queen, Zarala, that Lorkin act as negotiator today. Are you in agreement on this?”
Sonea looked at her son, who appeared to be holding back a grin. “Yes, your majesty. I carry the blood ring of Lord Osen, Administrator of the Guild. Do you object to me wearing it?”
“No.” Savara looked at Lorkin. “Begin, Lord Lorkin.”
Sonea slipped Osen’s ring on.
—Osen?
—Sonea.
—We’re about to begin negotiations.
Lorkin drew in a deep breath. “Queen Zarala asked me to arrange a meeting between the Traitors and the Allied Lands in the hope of negotiating an alliance.”
Sonea nodded. “What kind of alliance are we discussing? Are the Traitors seeking to join the Allied Lands? That requires compliance with an agreed core of rules that apply to all and with a few specific to each land.”
“What are these core rules?” Savara asked.
“Non-aggression toward other lands in the alliance. Adherence to a set of laws regarding trade, crime and magic. Military support in defence of the Allied Lands. Outlawing slavery.”
“The first and last we agree with wholeheartedly.” Savara’s lips thinned. “What are the laws you speak of?”
Sonea listed them, with Osen’s assistance. Savara listened, nodding from time to time. When Sonea finished, the queen laced her fingers together.
“Some of these laws are similar to our own, some are not. It is your control of magicians my people may object to. Especially your restrictions on the knowledge and use of higher magic.”
“You have restrictions that we would not agree with as well. I believe magic is only taught to women Traitors, unless the man is a natural.”
“Yes, but restrictions based on gender are already catered for in the alliance. The Lonmar people only teach magic to men. If the alliance can accommodate their traditions, could it not accommodate ours?”
“It is likely it could. Black magic, on the other hand, is a more difficult issue.”
Savara smiled and gestured toward Sonea. “Yet the Guild has black magicians.”
“Only as many as we feel are necessary for our defence.”
The queen’s expression became serious. “Do you really think three is enough?”
Sonea met and held the woman’s eyes. This was no time to be admitting to doubts.
“Yes.”
Savara’s eyebrows rose. “I hope that a situation never arises to test that. My people are not so willing to put their safety in the hands of a few. We will not agree to an alliance that requires us to stop teaching our daughters higher magic.??
?
“We expected that.” Sonea smiled as the queen’s gaze sharpened. “We are willing to negotiate an exception in the case of Traitors, with conditions.”
“What are these conditions?”
“You have not objected to our law that all magicians be trained at the Guild,” Sonea observed.
“No.” Savara looked amused. “It would be an opportunity we’d be foolish to turn down.”
“The condition is this: your magicians must not be taught black magic until they have graduated, and the teaching of it must be done by Traitors, in Sachaka.”
A small line appeared between Savara’s brows. She nodded slowly.
“That might be acceptable.”
“Of course, if King Amakira learns of an agreement between us he will cause us both trouble. He will try to stop your novices reaching us.”
Savara waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that won’t be a problem.”
“Once they’re in Kyralia it will be harder to conceal what is happening. We could disguise them as Elynes.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
—She seems a little too confident about that, Osen noted.
—Indeed.
“Perhaps you believe that King Amakira, not knowing where Sanctuary is, is no threat to you, but if you want the young women you send to us for training to be safe you had best remember that he does know where Imardin is,” Sonea warned.
Savara smiled. “There will be no need for secrecy. By the time we are ready to send magicians to the Guild, if we decide to do so, King Amakira and the Ashaki will be a problem long resolved.”
Sonea heard Regin draw in a quick breath. She found herself staring at the queen. A thrill ran through her, followed by a stab of fear.
—They mean to attack the Ashaki! Osen exclaimed.
Savara leaned forward. “You said an alliance included military support in defence of the Allied Lands. I am guessing that offensive military support is a different matter. Even so, you are old enemies of the Sachakan Empire. Therefore I invite the Allied Lands to join us in ridding Sachaka of the Ashaki and slavery. You may not be able to offer many fighters, since so few of you learn higher magic, but your strength and Healing assistance would be invaluable.” She leaned back again. “Will you help us?”
CHAPTER 17
AN ADMISSION
Lorkin watched his mother closely. Though her gaze was still on Savara, it did not quite focus on the queen, but somewhere beyond. He looked down at the ring on her finger. She was communicating with Osen. He noticed another ring that he’d not seen before. It, too, held a gemstone but the setting was decorative, suggesting it was mere jewellery.
“We need time to discuss it,” she said. “There are a lot of monarchs to contact.”
Savara nodded. “You have until tomorrow night. I’d give you longer, but my people are vulnerable when outside Sanctuary. I know I am behaving as if we cannot lose, but there is no point discussing a future relationship based on the current situation.”
“Is there no chance of a future relationship if you lose?”
The queen’s expression became grim. “Perhaps a slim one. If we lose it would be likely the Ashaki will find out where Sanctuary is. Without Sanctuary we have no food, shelter and, temporarily, no gemstone-growing caves. We will be more concerned with our survival and recovery than an alliance with the Allied Lands.”
Sonea was frowning. “That would put the caves in the Ashaki’s hands. Could they begin to grow their own stones?”
“They might discover on their own, in time. It is more likely they would force a captive Traitor to teach them, though they couldn’t gain all our knowledge from one or even a handful of Traitors. We have avoided teaching individual stone-makers how to make every kind of stone, instead of spreading the knowledge among many. How dangerous the Ashaki would become would depend on which Traitor or Traitors they captured.”
As the two women fell into a thoughtful silence, Lorkin cleared his throat.
“Whether the Traitors win or lose, an exchange of knowledge between them and the Guild would still be beneficial.”
Savara turned to look at him, her expression apologetic. “But that exchange has already been made.”
“It has and it hasn’t.” Lorkin shrugged. “As with stone-making, Healing knowledge is too broad to be communicated in a short mind-read. Though you will work out more in time, you will make mistakes along the way. Like stone-making, mistakes can be dangerous. Better to be trained by those already skilled in the art.”
His mother was frowning. “They already know Healing?” she asked him.
Savara sighed. “Yes. One of our people disobeyed our law and stole it from Lorkin’s mind. She has been punished, and to compensate Lorkin, Queen Zarala decreed that he be taught stone-making.”
Lorkin watched his mother closely. A range of expressions crossed her face: shock, anger and gratitude. She gave him a thoughtful look. He concentrated on her presence, wondering if he could pick up surface thoughts again. A faint, distant feeling of pride touched his senses, but he could have been imagining it. At least it wasn’t disapproval or disappointment. Yet. She doesn’t know what stone-making involves.
“So …” Sonea said. “One of your people already knows the basics of how Healing works, and one of mine has about the same level of stone-making knowledge. But as Lorkin says, that does not measure up to full training from a teacher with many years of skill and experience. We do still have something worth trading.”
“Except …” Lorkin interrupted. She turned to regard him, her face calm. “They are not of equal value.”
Savara’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Which is of greater value?”
“Healing,” Lorkin replied.
“Why is that?”
“You need nothing more than knowledge and magic to be a Healer,” Lorkin told her. “Stone-making magicians require stone-producing caves.”
“What are they, exactly?” his mother asked.
“Caves where the crystalline stones form naturally. Magical gemstones are trained as they grow. I’ve never heard of any caves like these in the Allied Lands.” He spread his hands. “Not that I’ve been looking for them. It may be that we’ll find them if we search. But until we do have our own caves, we cannot apply stone-making knowledge.”
“Alchemists may find another way to make them,” Regin pointed out. “They already make some kinds of crystals. Perhaps stone-making magic can be applied to those.”
Savara’s eyes brightened with interest. “Do they really?” Then her lips quirked into a crooked smile. “Ah, but there is another catch. You will have to relax your rules regarding higher magic, since it is needed in stone-making. Your current black magicians may not be suited to the task, either. It demands a level of concentration and patience that not everyone can manage, which will also consume more of your defenders’ attention than is wise – and you will only be able to make a handful of stones a year.”
Lorkin caught his breath as his mother turned to stare at him. Guilt and fear rose, but he forced himself to meet her gaze levelly. Her eyes flickered back to Savara, then her face went still, her feelings hidden behind a false calm.
“I see,” she said. “That does make the exchange a little … more costly to us than for you.”
Lord Regin had turned to regard Lorkin as well, but his gaze lingered. His eyes were narrowed, but his expression was more thoughtful than disapproving. Lorkin felt a perverse annoyance at the lack of surprise in the man’s demeanour.
“Perhaps, then, we could exchange Healing for stones,” Savara suggested. “Your Healers could work for us and the Guild would receive stones in payment.”
Extending his senses, Lorkin tried again to hear his mother’s surface thoughts. What he picked up seemed too out of character, however. He must be imagining it. Though … it was also odd that he would imagine his mother thinking such a string of curse words.
“They will be safe,” Savara said in reply to whateve
r had been asked while he was distracted. “The individual who attacked Lorkin did so out of a desire to bring Healing to my people that many sympathise with. But few would use illegal means to achieve it. Hiring Healers to work for us is another way to do so. Did Lorkin tell you of the promise Lord Akkarin made?”
“Yes. Akkarin never told me of it.”
“There was much that was concealed in that agreement. Queen Zarala also made a promise that she did not fulfil, though she worked towards doing so all her life.”
Lorkin looked at Savara, remembering the former queen referring to such a promise. “I was never able to uphold one thing I agreed to. Like him, the situation at home was more difficult to overcome than I’d hoped.”
“What was that?” his mother asked.
Savara’s expression was serious as she answered. “To do what the Guild failed to do seven centuries ago: destroy the Ashaki and end slavery in Sachaka.”
As Tayend entered the Master’s Room, Dannyl frowned. “Achati may wish to speak to me alone.”
“Too bad. Like it or not, the king’s actions have a bearing on Sachakan relations with all Allied Lands,” the Elyne said. “Ambassador” he added, to made it clear he considered this something he had the right to do.
Dannyl sighed. “Of course.” But his resistance was mostly habit. In truth, he was grateful for Tayend’s company. Having a common cause, working together, and Tayend’s approval of Achati had changed something. They were no longer at odds. The resentment at their parting was gone, or at least a thing of the past. He felt as if he could call Tayend a friend now and it wouldn’t be an insult.
Having Tayend there would keep the meeting formal, too, which might make it easier to ignore his more personal feelings toward Achati. Like betrayal.
Yet we know Achati got Lorkin out of Arvice, he reminded himself.