The Traitor Queen by Trudi Canavan
“Is Tay – Ambassador Tayend there?” Dannyl asked.
She nodded.
“Tell him we are here to see him.”
She scrambled up and disappeared into one of the rooms. A moment later there was a low groan and a curse.
“Out!”
The slave darted out again and hurried over to Dannyl and Merria.
“Don’t,” Dannyl said as she went to prostrate herself again.
“The Ambassador is dressing,” she said, then moved over to a wall and stood with her back to it, eyes lowered.
Osen said the Traitors are going to free the slaves, Dannyl thought. If they succeed, where will the slaves here go? Perhaps they would stay on as paid servants. He hoped so. It would be a relief when they stopped behaving so submissively. Though I may, perhaps, think differently should they start pushing us around like some Kyralian servants do. He blinked as something else occurred to him. If the Traitors win, end slavery and join the Allied Lands, could some of these ex-slaves one day become magicians?
He thought of the lengths to which Fergun had gone in order to prevent Sonea entering the Guild. If he’d felt Sonea didn’t deserve to become a magician, what would he have thought of Sachakan slaves?
The idea made Dannyl feeling oddly cheerful, but the mood dissipated as Tayend appeared, looking dishevelled in his hastily donned elaborate clothing.
“Ambassador. Lady Merria,” Tayend said, beckoning. He ushered them to the stools arranged in the middle of the central room, then sat down on a particularly large pillow and rubbed at his eyes.
“Late night?” Dannyl asked.
Tayend made a face. “Late and well irrigated. My Sachakan friends were particularly determined to drown their worries.” He turned to the slave girl. “Bring some water and bread.”
Once she had left, Dannyl drew magic and surrounded them in a sound-blocking barrier. He leaned toward Tayend. “They have reason to.”
The Elyne’s eyes widened and he straightened. “Oh?”
As Dannyl told them of Osen’s news, both Tayend and Merria began to nod.
“That explains it,” Merria said. “Last night my friends told me that female slaves suspected of being Traitors are being tortured and killed.” She paused and frowned. “Well, that explains something else, too. My friends were making arrangements to travel to a country estate for the summer, and invited me along. I said I couldn’t go. I had to stay with you.” She nodded to Dannyl. “And they said you and Tayend could come as well, if you needed to.”
“Needed to’?” Tayend echoed. “Hmm.”
“They’ve probably left already. I suppose I could find out where they are.” Merria looked worried.
Dannyl shook his head. “We can’t go with them.”
“But should we stay here?” Tayend asked, looking at Dannyl. “Mistakes happen in wars. People can be killed by being in the wrong place, or by a stray bit of magic that misses its intended target.” His pursed his lips. “I don’t suppose we and Achati could go on another research trip.”
The suggestion brought a pang of gratitude and anxiety. Though he likes Achati, I doubt he’d have included him if it weren’t for me. “If we suggest it he’ll suspect we knew the Traitors planned to invade,” Dannyl replied.
“Unless he doesn’t know. We could get him out of the way. He’d never forgive us for preventing him from doing his duty though,” Tayend added, looking away.
Tayend was right. Achati’s loyalty was with his king and people. He’ll never leave Sachaka. Not for me. He’d always known that.
“What will the Traitors do to the free women, and their children?” Merria asked.
They exchanged grim looks.
“I don’t think they’d kill anyone who wasn’t a magician,” Tayend said slowly.
“It may depend on how well they treated their slaves,” Dannyl added.
Merria shrugged. “Well, for all that they say they don’t like the Traitors, my friends do seem to have some connection with them. Surely that means they’ll be all right.” She looked at Dannyl. “It’s your friend I’d be worried about.”
He was saved from having to respond by the return of the slave girl. As Dannyl rose to leave, Merria did the same.
“Stay a while, Dannyl?” Tayend asked. The Elyne waited until Merria and the slave girl had gone before he spoke. “You’re worried. I can tell. But remember, the Traitors might lose.”
“Lorkin is with them.”
Tayend grimaced. “Ah. Yes. There is no good end to this, is there?”
Dannyl shook his head. “All we can hope for is that, whatever the outcome, the people we care about survive and escape.” He turned and walked toward the door.
“You do care about him, don’t you?”
Dannyl stopped and looked back to see Tayend had got to his feet. He thought about Achati’s words: “I would like us to be more than friends, for a time at least, before circumstances make us feel we must behave like enemies.” He sighed.
“I’m not in love, Tayend.”
“No?” Tayend walked over and placed a hand on Dannyl’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve never thought it would last. I just … I expected that if it ended it would be for more mundane political reasons.”
“You fear for him.”
“As I’d fear for any friend.”
Tayend eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You two are more than just friends, Dannyl.”
“You and I are more than just friends, Tayend. We were together too long to say otherwise. I’d fear for you in this situation, as well.”
Tayend smiled, and his hand on Dannyl’s shoulder squeezed. “And I for you. The only difference is I’d take you back without a second thought. You wouldn’t.” He turned away and walked back to the stools.
Breath catching in his throat, Dannyl gazed at Tayend. As the Elyne glanced back, Dannyl tore his eyes away and stepped out of the room. It wasn’t until he reached his own suite that his mind snapped out of its surprise and began to churn with all that he’d learned and feared.
Pushing through the door into the inner passages of the University, Lilia took a few steps before she saw the novices ahead. They didn’t move out of the way as she neared them. Instead, they turned to face her, the three of them blocking the way.
Lilia slowed. From behind her came the sound of the door opening again, then a “ha” of triumph. She turned to see Bokkin and two more novices approaching, all grinning.
“Lilia,” Bokkin called. “Just who we were looking for, weren’t we?” He glanced back at his followers and they nodded.
She shook her head. I can’t believe how stupid they are. Don’t they think about the future? Do they think I won’t remember any of this when I’ve graduated? But that was in the far future, to them. They knew she would never be allowed to use black magic except in exceptional circumstances, and they couldn’t imagine any other way she might gain revenge.
“You know what I heard, Lilia?” Bokkin asked. “I heard someone saying that novices haven’t united against someone like you for years. Someone who doesn’t know her place. Last time it was real effective, I heard.”
They mean Sonea, she realised. “Effective?” she replied. “She beat her rival in a challenge and became a Higher Magician. If that’s effective, I ought to encourage novices to unite against me.”
She held back a laugh at the surprise on the other novice’s faces.
Bokkin scowled. “Before then. Before—”
The door behind him opened and a black-robed magician strode through. Lilia felt a rush of relief, then quickly schooled her face. If anything had shown, she hoped they were too busy staring at Kallen to see it.
Kallen looked at them, his frown deepening as he took in the scene. The novices bowed. His eyes narrowed.
“Lady Lilia,” he said. “We only need one volunteer.” He scanned the faces. “Which of you would like the honour?”
Bokkin’s followers turned to frown at him. Kalle
The novices flattened themselves against the wall as he moved past. Not wanting to trail behind Kallen with Bokkin, Lilia turned and led the way to the small room Kallen used for her training. When she reached the door she turned back, expecting to see that Bokkin had fled.
But the boy had obediently followed. He was pale and frowning. Worried, she thought, smothering a smile. I would be too. What on earth does Kallen want with him?
Kallen opened the door and ushered Bokkin inside. Lilia followed. Kallen pointed to a seat. Bokkin sat down, his eyes downcast.
“Thank you for volunteering,” Kallen said, taking the other chair. “Lilia has explained that it will not hurt?”
“Nnn—” Bokkin began, his eyes widening.
“Not yet,” Lilia injected. “I haven’t had time to explain much.”
Kallen looked at her. Though he was frowning in disapproval, she caught a glint of something else in his gaze. What is he up to?
He turned back to the young man. “In fact, done correctly the subject cannot sense their mind being read at all.” Bokkin’s eyes went very wide, but Kallen didn’t appear to notice. “Now, I did arrive a little late, and don’t want to delay your arrival at your first class, so we’d best begin.” He beckoned to Lilia. “Stand behind him.”
She was glad he’d given her a reason to move out of Bokkin’s sight, as she doubted she could have resisted smiling much longer. As she obeyed, Bokkin tried to turn to look at her.
“This wasn’t … I didn’t …”
Kallen leaned forward and fixed Bokkin with a challenging stare. “Changed your mind, have you? I guess we can always put the word out that we need someone else.”
Bokkin stilled. Lilia could imagine him weighing up the options. Be labelled a coward or have his mind read by one of the feared Black Magicians and Lilia. To her amusement, Bokkin stayed put.
“You won’t go looking through my memories?” he asked.
Kallen shook his head. “Of course not.”
Bokkin nodded. “All right then.”
Standing up, Kallen nodded to Lilia. “I will connect with your mind; you connect with his.”
Taking a deep breath, Lilia placed her hands on either side of Bokkin’s head and, as she felt Kallen’s hands press against her temples, started a simple exercise to clear and focus her mind.
—Lilia, Kallen spoke.
—Kallen.
All she sensed was his presence and mind-voice. In other lessons involving mind-to-mind instruction, he had discouraged her from imagining her mind as a room. Sometimes it made the lessons harder, but it meant her grasp of concepts was less conscious and more instinctive. It made using magic feel like moving a limb – as much reflex as deliberate.
—Bokkin will report us if you search through his memories, but I doubt he has much control of his mind. He’ll probably show us what he doesn’t want us to see anyway. If you remain alert, you may see something you can use to stop him harassing you.
Lilia could not hide her shock from him.
—But … we ought to ignore those memories!
—Yes. However, the Guild does allow some bending of the rules, in exceptional cases. We have learned that it is better to do so and stop the harassment of novices, than ignore it and risk those novices breaking rules and laws later.
—Because of Sonea?
—And conflicts brought about by opening the Guild to lower-class entrants.
—I’m not sure I could bring myself to use anything very private …
—You may not need to. The threat of it may be enough to deter him.
—I hope so.
—Now, focus on Bokkin’s mind. Sense his instinctive resistance to a mind-read.
She did as he instructed and sensed a surge of triumph from Bokkin as she failed.
—Now watch …
Kallen’s presence expanded and weakened, like a beam of light softened by passing through a window screen. Bokkin’s mind did not sense a focused effort at intrusion, and did not fight it. A moment later Kallen’s presence sharpened again.
—Now you. Clear your mind of everything but the one intention: to drift into his mind like smoke.
Smoke or light, it seemed easy enough, but it took Lilia a few attempts before she was no longer detectable by Bokkin’s mind. He must have sensed something in her approach changing, because by the time she did manage to enter his mind he was worried about her succeeding.
It’s not right, he thought. She broke a law. She shouldn’t be allowed to learn these things.
A memory rose. A face. Lilia instantly knew it was Bokkin’s father. “Someone will always grow stronger than you – if you let them. You have to sort them out while they’re weak. Stop them getting strong.” Bokkin caught himself, forcing himself to stop remembering, but not before Lilia caught three quick flashes of emotion-laden images. Love and hurt. Beatings. Anger. Grief.
She understood, then, that Bokkin believed this fiercely and completely, and thought it the best piece of wisdom his father had taught him. After all, his father had proven it by beating his own son into obeying and fearing him. Then his father had been killed by a man he had admitted he should have been harder on.
That’s what he’s trying to do to me, she realised. He is thinking about the future. I’m going to be stronger than him, so he’s trying to weaken me now. She shuddered at the thought of the kind of magician he would become. By then he’ll be stronger than most people. It’s only other magicians he’ll be threatened by. Like me.
—Lilia? Kallen spoke.
She moved out of Bokkin’s mind.
—Yes?
—You have done well. That is enough for now.
She felt his hands leave her head, so she opened her eyes and released Bokkin. Kallen moved around to the chair and sat down. The door behind him opened.
“You can go now, Lord Bokkin. Thank you for your assistance. Tell one of the others to be here tomorrow morning, at the same time.”
“Yes, Black Magician Kallen.” Bokkin bowed and hurried out of the room.
The door closed behind him. Lilia leaned against the back of the chair, delaying sitting down. She didn’t even want to feel the residual warmth of Bokkin from it.
“What did you learn?” Kallen asked.
Lilia grimaced. “That he believes anyone who might grow stronger than him is a threat, so he has to find a way to dominate them before they dominate him.” Then it occurred to her he was probably asking about mind-reading. “Which is the opposite to how mind-reading works. You don’t succeed by trying to dominate.”
Kallen nodded. “Yes.” He shook his head. “Magicians like Bokkin are the reason we do not teach this level of mind-reading to all magicians.”
“Wait … you mean anyone can learn to do this?”
“Unfortunately, yes. High Lord Akkarin was the first Guild magician to learn how to read the mind of an uncooperative person, so it has always been assumed that it was a skill that required black magic. He revealed to Black Magician Sonea that this was not true by teaching her how to read minds before he taught her how to take and store magic. Sonea agreed to keep that fact to herself. You must do so as well.”
“Oh. Definitely.” The thought of what Bokkin might do with such knowledge sent a shiver down Lilia’s spine.
“You have a fresh and interesting way of approaching things, Lilia,” Kallen said. “Like this idea of using a quick, strong stab of forcestrike as a substitute for a knife when performing black magic. It is ingenious. I have described it to Lady Vinara, and we have discussed ways we could experiment safely.”
She felt her face warm at the praise and looked down. “Well … I hope it works.”
“Even if it doesn’t, it’s worth trying. Well, that’s all for today. You had best get to your first class.”
As the door opened again, Lilia bowed and murmured his name. She made her way to her first class of the day feeling alte
Yet while she now knew why Bokkin was harassing her, she had no idea how to stop him. He’s always going to be working against me. I’m always going to be stronger than him, though, and he’s too stupid to ever be a threat in other ways, so it could be worse, I suppose.
But she was going to have to keep a constant eye on him, and that was going to get very, very annoying.
Once Anyi’s footsteps had faded from hearing, Gol stood up and retrieved his tools from under his mattress. As he got back to work, Cery inspected the holes his friend had drilled into a section of wall earlier, each one piercing mortar and the earth beyond. Anyi hadn’t noticed them. The bricks were rough and cracked in places, and Gol had chosen positions where the lamplight cast heavy shadows.
He had to bend close to see the end of the tubes Gol had inserted in each hole, each with a little tongue of oily paper protruding.
“How many more do you want to do?” Cery asked.
Gol had moved to the opposite wall. “Depends how quick you think we can light them. You don’t want the first lot to go off while we’re lighting the rest. If I do five in each wall and we do a wall’s worth each, we might get them all lit. Bring me a tube, will you?”
Moving to the box of fruit Lilia had brought them the night before, Cery emptied it and lifted the sacking at the bottom. He’d stored the minefire underneath, relying on Anyi’s dislike of fruit to keep her from discovering it.
As he carried the first tube to Gol, he noticed a fine stream of dust leaking from a fold in the paper at one end.
“It’s broken. Is that bad?”
Gol turned and his eyes widened. “Hold it so the hole’s at the top,” he said urgently.
Cery did so and the leak stopped. “Is it that dangerous?”
“Yes.” Gol’s expression was serious. “Get too much of this floating in the air, a candle or lamp could set it off.” He looked down at the tube, then tipped a little powder into his palm before stuffing it into the wall. “I’ll show you. Take a candle out into the passage and put it down about twenty paces away.”