The Traitor Queen by Trudi Canavan
“Perhaps that’s why we failed to end it,” he continued, “when we conquered Sachaka. It had been too long since we’d endured it ourselves.”
Sonea shook her head. “But it had only been a few hundred years since Kyralia and Elyne regained their independence and ended slavery.”
“Enough time for those who knew what it was like to die of old age, and the concept to become an abstract idea to their descendants.”
“And yet we still have an aversion to it, passed down for a further seven hundred years.”
“Only because it is something we associated with Sachakans.”
Sonea chuckled darkly. “Ah, yes. Because that made them hateful, which made us morally superior. Never underestimate the pleasure of seeing faults in others.”
Regin turned to frown at her. “You don’t think slavery is—”
“Of course not. I just wish we’d done this when we had the chance.” She gestured to the people before them. “And that the Allied Lands had accepted the Traitors’ invitation.”
“You’d have us go to war, when most of us are too weak to make a difference?”
“Yes. But in our own way.”
Regin looked at her, then his eyes widened. “By the Guild giving you and Kallen all our power.”
“Which I have taken already. All we had to do was prepare and send for Kallen.”
“Or Lilia?” Regin frowned. “No … she is too young.”
“Not much younger than I was when I fought in my first war, but yes, I wouldn’t wish that on her and we shouldn’t risk losing all magicians with knowledge of black magic.”
Regin smiled. “Though it appears it can be learned from a book, after all.”
“Yes.” Sonea sighed. “I suspect the Guild will lose its battle against black magic soon. If the Traitors win it’ll be even harder to …” She paused as she saw a couple on horseback riding toward them. They wore Traitor garb, and looked familiar. The pair were looking at her and Regin. “Those two look like they’re coming to meet us.”
Regin squinted against the bright sunlight. “And they don’t look surprised to see us either. I expect someone has told them we didn’t go home.”
They watched as the pair drew closer. A man and a woman, Sonea noted. Is she the magician and he a source of power? she wondered. Or did the Traitors train their men to use magic so they could fight? A few strides away, the couple turned their horses to block Sonea’s path.
“Black Magician Sonea,” the woman said. “Lord Regin. I am Saral, this is Temi. Queen Savara asks why you have not returned home.”
Sonea paused as if to consider her answer. She had expected the question, but didn’t want her answer to seem too well rehearsed.
“The Guild is obliged to ensure its members will be safe, when in other lands,” she told them. “I am here to ensure our Healers will not be in danger.”
The woman’s eyes went blank, then focused on Sonea again. “We will make sure all Guild magicians entering Sachaka are unharmed.”
“So you have the time to patrol the roads, and have Traitors free to act as guards and escorts, at the same time as fighting the Ashaki? I would rather you put your resources into achieving your aims.” Sonea stepped forward until she was looking up at Saral, addressing the woman she knew was watching her through the ring Saral was wearing. “Not the least because you have my son with you,” she added, lowering and hardening her tone. “Do you really expect me to go home? I am one magician, and no threat to you or your people, Queen Savara.” She smiled. “Whether you have Lorkin with you or not.”
Saral’s chin lifted, then her gaze flickered away again and she scowled. Her face fell and she looked down at Sonea.
“You may continue to Arvice,” she said. “On the condition that you do not enter the city before we do, and you do not side with the Ashaki. I can’t guarantee your safety if you get in the way, and if you or your lover influence the battle against us you will both be killed.”
Sonea inclined her head. “I give you my word that we will keep to these conditions.”
Saral’s lips thinned and her shoulders slumped. “Temi and I will escort you,” she said. Beside her, Temi made a small noise of protest.
Sonea nodded again. “Thank you. For the sake of avoiding embarrassment, I should point out that you are wrong in one matter.”
“What?” Saral’s eyes narrowed.
“Lord Regin is not my lover.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose into a disbelieving expression. She said nothing in reply, instead turning her horse so that it faced the way she had come. Temi did the same, smirking as he moved to take a position on the other side of Sonea. Regin stepped forward to stand beside Sonea. He met her eyes briefly.
“Traitors like gossip as much as everyone else,” he murmured, smiling.
Sonea shrugged and started walking. Such gossip could be dangerous. An enemy, thinking they were a couple, might try to harm Regin in order to blackmail her. But, as she’d hinted to Savara through Saral, if the Traitors wanted to blackmail her, they already had Lorkin. Still … Regin would be a better target, if Tyvara cares for Lorkin and Savara cares about Tyvara’s feelings.
She looked at Regin, and he turned to meet her gaze. If he was worried, he was keeping it well hidden. His eyebrows rose in question, then his mouth twitched into a small, secretive smile. She looked away. Anyone watching him would think we were a couple. She looked back at the days they’d spent together since leaving Imardin. It had been a relief to find they got along with each other. That she didn’t mind his company, and he didn’t seem to mind hers. But what was it that others saw to make them think more was going on? I’m not doing anything, she thought. Is it Regin, then? Surely …
She shook her head. No. He’s not in love with me. Don’t be ridiculous.
But what if he was? She thought back. Tried to remember everything he’d said. Tried to recall how he’d spoken to her, behaved around her, looked at her. She remembered how she had started to ask herself the same question before, in the carriage after leaving the Fort. What had he said to make her wonder? That he had admired her for years.
Was he trying to tell me more? She shook her head again. Does it only seem that way now that I’m wondering about it?
She couldn’t ask him, because the Traitors would hear. But if an opportunity came to talk with Regin privately … The thought of it made her throat close up. I can’t do that. What if I’m wrong? It would be embarrassing for the both of us. Or would it be worse if I’m right? At least I’m sure I’m not in love with him.
A tangle of contradictory feelings and thoughts followed. It took all her self-control to keep her steps regular and her face calm. Then, as quickly as it had risen, the conflict ended, leaving her surprised and dismayed.
So. I do. No, I could. That’s different. The potential is there, but it isn’t so. Yet, she thought. But she wouldn’t say anything of it to Regin. And if he hinted of feelings for her she would have to discourage him. It’s not that I haven’t forgiven him. He’s become a person so much better than the novice I hated. It’s not that I haven’t got over Akkarin – well, got over him enough to love another. It’s not even that it makes Regin vulnerable, should someone seek to blackmail me. It’s because …
She felt a stab of annoyance. Why was it that the only men who showed any romantic interest in her had no right to? Not that she had any real proof of Regin’s interest. Which was just as well because, though Regin had parted from his wife, he was still legally married.
CHAPTER 23
THE ULTIMATUM
Dannyl paced his rooms.
There must be some way I can warn Achati without revealing how we know the Traitors are coming. It would be a few days before the Traitors arrived and they needed to behave as if nothing extraordinary was happening, so Tayend had left to visit an Ashaki merchant, and Merria was making an afternoon visit to the market with a friend who hadn’t left the city yet, leaving Dannyl alone to ponder his dilemma. I co
A movement in the doorway caught his attention. He turned to see Kai drop to the floor.
“Ashaki Achati is here to see you.”
He’s here! Dannyl felt his heart lift, then plunge downward again. And I don’t have a solution yet. Then he shook his head. Well, it has only been half a day. Even if I’d thought of something, I ought to run it past Tayend first, so I’ll have to behave as if I know nothing for this meeting anyway.
“Have some food and wine brought.”
The slave rose and hurried away. Entering the corridor, Dannyl strode down it to the Master’s Room. He felt a wave of affection as Achati turned and smiled at him.
“Ambassador Dannyl.”
“Ashaki Achati.” Dannyl inclined his head. “A pleasure to see you again.”
The Sachakan’s smile vanished. “Ah, I hope it always will be.” He sighed. “I have news.”
“Good or bad?” Dannyl ushered the man to a stool and sat down in his usual place.
Achati considered. “Not good. Not overly bad. Possibly advantageous.”
“You’re being mysterious now.”
“Just answering the question.” The corner of Achati’s eyes crinkled, then smoothed as he sobered. Two slaves appeared with the wine and food. Achati waited until they had gone before speaking again.
“The Traitors have ventured out of the mountains and have begun attacking estates all around the country,” he said in a low voice. “They’ve killed every magician they encountered and are heading toward Arvice. It appears they are intent on taking over Sachaka.”
A wave of relief swept over Dannyl, which he hoped he hid well. He knows! I don’t have to warn him. But I can’t admit that we knew already. He drank a mouthful of wine, considering how to respond. Not with surprise. He’s mentioned the possibility of a Traitor rebellion before.
“You thought this might happen,” he said, “but doubted they were strong enough to be a threat.”
“I still do.” Achati shrugged. “Which is why this is not good news, yet is possibly advantageous. The Traitors are unlikely to survive, so we will finally be rid of them. Unfortunately we will lose many good men in the process. The king doesn’t want to send forces out to meet them. They are attacking from all directions, so it would thin our ranks if we tried to tackle them all. He has sent messages ordering Ashaki and their families to retreat to the city.”
“Will they obey him?”
Achati nodded. “Most will, but whether they do so quickly enough is another matter. And there is one setback we didn’t anticipate.” He paused to look around the room. “Slaves have taken the opportunity to rebel. Mostly by fleeing from estates just before the Traitors arrive, but a few have attacked their owners.”
“And succeeded?”
“Only in a few cases – with poison. Which is one of the reasons I am telling you this. Be careful of your slaves, Ambassador Dannyl.”
Dannyl looked at the wineglass in Achati’s hand. The man hadn’t even sipped it yet. Did he fear the slaves here? The Guild House slaves belonged to the king, but that hadn’t prevented the Traitors putting their spies among them. Dannyl had drunk only a little of the wine, and hadn’t touched the food. He sent his mind within but found no sign of distress.
“I should be able to counteract the effect of poison with Healing magic,” he told Achati.
Achati chuckled and raised the glass to his lips. “Handy skill, that one.”
Dannyl nodded. “Do Ambassador Tayend, Lady Merria and I have anything to fear from the Traitors?”
Achati shook his head. “I see no reason why they would attack you, so long as you keep out of the way. If by some ill chance this goes badly, and the Traitors reach the city …” He paused and sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I confess I fear you would be in more danger from my people than theirs. The king has treated you as if you had colluded with the Traitors. If the rebels do a lot of damage, some Ashaki may come here to seek retribution. Or, if the battle goes badly, they may seek to replenish their store of power.”
Dannyl stared at Achati. For the man to admit his people might do this … there must be a real danger.
“What should we do?”
Achati held Dannyl’s gaze. “There is a ship in the harbour called The Kala. The captain has been told to take you, Ambassador Tayend and Lady Merria on board if you request it. He will sail you back to Kyralia.”
But Osen told us to stay … ah, I can’t tell him that without revealing we already knew about the attack. Still, Osen might change his mind once I tell him what Achati fears.
“Thank you. I’ll have to ask the Guild what they want us to do. Would you …?” Dannyl paused, wondering what Osen would think of the proposal. If it meant we were safe, he’d agree to it. “Would you come with us?”
The Sachakan’s eyes widened a little. He smiled and reached out to touch Dannyl’s arm in a gesture of reassurance and fondness. “My place is here, with my king and people.” He waved his other hand, holding the wineglass. “And it is very unlikely the Traitors will reach the city anyway. The ship is just a precaution.” He squeezed Dannyl’s arm gently, then let go. “And an excellent excuse to visit you.”
“I appreciate the warning. And the visit.” Dannyl put his wineglass aside. “You’ve missed Tayend, though. And Merria.”
“A pity. I may not have much time spare to visit again until after this little crisis is over.”
Dannyl’s heart skipped. If he is wrong about the Traitors, it might be the last time we are together.
“But I do have the House all to myself for the evening. Can you stay long?”
Achati’s eyebrows rose, then he smiled. “Perhaps for an hour or two.”
The room shivered with candlelight. Though the effect looked as if it was the result of the flickering flames, Cery knew some of the movement was from the shaking of his hand. He felt hot wax drip over his knuckles and looked down. Though it felt like they had been standing like this for an hour, the candle wasn’t visibly shorter.
He looked across the room at Gol, who was also holding a candle at the ready. Cery frowned as Gol shifted his weight and the flame came perilously close to lighting a timer strip. He could hear Gol’s quick breathing. His own seemed too loud. He tried to breathe deeper and quietly, to will his racing heart to slow down, worried that either would drown out the sound of someone approaching.
Skellin – if it is Skellin – is going to hear us and know we’re waiting for him. The only reason we’d stay put is if we knew he was coming was if we had set a trap. I’d realise that. Surely he would, too.
Several ways that his plan could go wrong went through his mind. He knew the trap wasn’t perfect. The minefire might go off before he and Gol had a chance to get safely away. It might go off too late to harm Skellin. While they hoped that it would kill him, their aim was to blow a hole in the Gardens above and reveal the Rogue Thief to the Guild. But what if it didn’t? What if there was no hole, and Skellin survived?
What if Skellin didn’t come personally to deal with Cery? What if Cery and Gol blew a hole in the Gardens, and possibly themselves, only to reveal Skellin’s minions to the Guild?
Gol was looking at Cery now, and shaking his head. In his eyes was a question. How long would they stand like this before they decided Anyi had been wrong, and no intruder was in the passages? Cery looked at his candle. Should they take turns instead? Should they …?
From somewhere down the corridor came a sharp intake of breath. Cery looked at Gol, then followed his bodyguard’s surprised gaze to the doorway.
Someone was standing there. No, Cery realised. Someone is floating there. Someone all too familiar.
“So this is where you’ve been all this time,” Skellin said. Then he whistled. From further back in the tunnels came a piercing reply.
Cery moved his hand in the directio
And slammed into the wall.
No, not the wall. A barrier of magic. Cery cursed as he realised Gol had encountered the same invisible obstruction. Light filled the room – the distinctive glare of a magic globe light. His friend looked at him, his expression grim and frightened. Cery met Gol’s eyes and grimaced. So that’s it, then. We might have had time to escape if we’d heard Skellin coming … But Skellin had levitated to avoid his footsteps being heard. As Cery turned to face his enemy he saw the flame of the timer strip Gol had lit retreat in its hole. He closed his eyes and held his breath. At least Anyi got away.
“Now, now. No need to brace yourself. It would be rude of me to kill you without having a bit of a chat first. Hmm. Not much of a hideout.”
Cery opened his eyes to see the Thief magician, his shoes now touching the floor, walking toward him. Two men stepped into the doorway behind him. They were young and well muscled. Skellin looked around the room, then over Cery’s shoulder at the next one. “Not as nice as your old one, from what my mother tells me, though perhaps that was your wife’s taste in decoration and you’ve reverted to the habits of your namesake since she died.”
My wife … the hideout … Cold shock and then hate rushed through Cery. Lorandra did murder my family. Though why would she do so when Skellin and I weren’t enemies then?
“Though perhaps you were glad to be rid of her. You were supposed to be so angry that you’d form an alliance with me so I’d find the Thief Hunter for you,” Skellin said.
Cery stared at Skellin. He killed my family to make me want to join forces with him. After he “found” the Thief Hunter – or some poor scapegoat – I’d be indebted to him. He looked at the other wall, seeking the flame of the timer he’d set alight. He saw no spark of light. It, too, had burned back into the wall, toward the tubes of minefire. Soon it would blast Skellin into …