The Traitor Queen by Trudi Canavan
“I think you’re right,” Tayend replied. “The flashes were lighting the underside of the pillar of smoke before. Now they’re lighting this side of it.”
Dannyl’s stomach sank as he saw Tayend was correct. Maybe the Ashaki will gather their strength and regain ground again. Maybe the Traitors will run out of magic.
His companions were silent for a long time as nothing else happened to indicate any change in the battle. Then a building halfway between the parade and the distant smoke cloud sank out of sight. The boom and rumble followed a heartbeat later, then dust billowed up. Merria gasped. Tayend muttered a curse.
“Maybe this isn’t the safest place to be,” Tayend said in a thin voice. “If they get this far.”
“We’ll be fine,” Merria said, the waver in her voice betraying her lie. “We’ll just levitate away.”
“I guess I should stay close, then.”
“We should all stay close together,” Merria agreed.
As the pair moved to stand on either side of him, Dannyl glanced at them, amused that they should be drawn to him for protection. It made sense that Tayend would. Though Merria was a magician, Dannyl had been close to Tayend for a long time. But Merria should have the confidence of knowing she could protect herself.
Dannyl looked out towards where the collapsed building had been. Unlike me, being caught up in the fight is the last thing Merria wants. But me … I wish I had some excuse to help Achati. Even if just to ensure he survives should the Ashaki lose …
“They’re here!” Merria exclaimed.
Dannyl’s heart plunged as he saw people running out of a nearby side street. All men, all wearing Ashaki garb, some coated in dust. They stopped when they reached the parade, forming a line one, then two, then three deep across the street entrance as more Ashaki emerged to join them. He estimated there were about a hundred of them.
“Is that King Amakira?” Tayend asked.
Dannyl narrowed his eyes. An older man stood at the centre, but many other grey-haired Ashaki were in the line and it was impossible to identify which was the king. From streets on either side spilled more Ashaki. Perhaps they had tried to circle around and attack the Traitors from behind. Whatever they had done had not weakened their enemy enough, though. The edge of the Traitor front line was moving into sight. Their strikes were driving the Ashaki back. Men at one edge of the line stumbled back and fell. They did not rise again.
The Ashaki in the line struck in unison, and the Traitors retaliated. At once, holes began to form in the defensive wall of Ashaki. The line thinned as men stepped into gaps to replace the fallen. At a distant shout the defenders began to retreat rapidly, no longer striking, concentrating all their efforts in shielding.
They’re losing. They’ve lost. Unless they’ve put something in place at the palace …
“Dannyl,” Merria said.
“What?” he asked, then felt a flash of guilt at the sharpness of his tone.
“Osen’s ring?”
Dannyl cursed, then apologised, as he fumbled in his robe for the blood ring. Taking a deep breath, he slipped it on his finger.
—Dannyl?
—Yes, Osen. It’s me. The conflict has moved into sight. The Ashaki formed a line at the entrance to the parade, but they’re now in retreat.
—Sonea, can you see?
—Yes, came Sonea’s reply. Her mental voice was clear, but he could sense nothing of her presence or thoughts. Below, the retreating Ashaki were fifty paces from Achati’s house and getting closer. Soon Dannyl would be able to see more than the back of their heads. See if Achati was still among them. A strike slammed two of them back into the men behind. Dannyl caught a glimpse of crushed, bloodied faces.
—The Ashaki are losing, Osen noted.
—They may have another force waiting at the palace, Dannyl replied.
—Can you see Lorkin? Sonea asked.
Dannyl dragged his eyes away from the Ashaki to the Traitors. He caught his breath. Hundreds of them were moving into the parade. They walked in columns, their orderly formation a telling contrast to the crowd of retreating Ashaki. As he watched, a few of the foremost Traitors stepped aside and let those behind take their places.
He had assumed it would be easy to pick Lorkin out as the one man among many women, but there appeared to be as many male Traitor magicians as women and they were all dressed the same. Male or female, they were dipping into the pockets of the vests they wore, then holding out whatever it was they’d removed. He caught a glint of light, then another, and realised what they were doing.
Stones. They’re using stones.
Then his eyes found a familiar face and he felt recognition and relief rush through him. Lorkin was standing at the centre of the Traitor line, behind and a step to the side of a shorter, older woman. Tyvara? No. None of the personal slaves at the Guild House had been that woman’s age. So who was the older woman?
—The queen, Sonea sent.
Looking at the older woman again, Dannyl noted her position at the centre and the determination in her face. Queen Savara, he thought. Who, unless the Ashaki come up with some last-moment winning manoeuvre, will be the woman I will soon have to kneel before and negotiate with.
The Ashaki … were drawing level with Achati’s house. They were a much smaller group now. He steeled himself as he looked down and sought a familiar face. A head turned to look up toward him, and all the fear and affection he’d meant to hide from Osen and Sonea surged up and paralysed him. Achati smiled as if he had known Dannyl would be watching from atop his home all along, then turned his attention back to the Traitors.
Dannyl couldn’t move. His heart hammered in his chest as the Ashaki continued backing towards the palace. He can’t die. King Amakira was flanked by Achati and one of his other advisers. More Ashaki fell. He won’t, he told himself. He’ll be fine if they get back to the palace.
“Oh.” Merria said. “Look.”
Tearing his gaze away, Dannyl saw she was pointing towards the grand palace building. People were pouring out of the entrance. At first he felt a surge of hope and triumph, thinking they were more Ashaki, then Tayend whistled quietly as he always did when impressed, and at the same time Dannyl realised he wasn’t seeing glittering Ashaki garb.
“The Traitors have already overtaken it.” Tayend sighed. “And the Ashaki haven’t even noticed.”
Looking down again, Dannyl felt sick as he waited for signs that the Ashaki had realised the truth. When they do, they’ll surrender. They have no other choice. The Ashaki were bunching together around the king. No more than twenty now. Some were looking back at the palace. The ones at the back stopped, shouting a warning. He saw the king begin to turn, then stop. Saw Amakira’s lips move, and Achati’s nod. The king and the other adviser continued to retreat, but Achati stopped. The strikes from the Traitors suddenly intensified, perhaps at the sight of their enemy’s leader moving out of sight. Achati staggered.
Then he made an impossible leap backwards, contorting in the air and crashed to the ground.
Dannyl’s heart stopped. He stared at the twisted, limp form of his friend in disbelief.
But … why? Why didn’t he retreat with the king? Why sacrifice himself then, when he didn’t have to. The king must have known they had lost. He should have surrendered. I should have done something. If I’d known he’d do this I would have done something …
Hands were restraining his arms. He looked down to see both Merria and Tayend holding him. He looked at them in surprise. Then he realised he was very close to the edge of the roof.
“I’m sorry,” Tayend said. As he met Tayend’s gaze he saw understanding and sympathy there. Merria had said something at the same time, and it took Dannyl a moment to realise what it was.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
She stared at him intently. “Try to save them.”
Dannyl stepped back from the edge and shook them off. “For a moment I thought you were worried about me,” he said bitterly. He f
“Wait.” Merria hurried to him and grabbed his hand. He pulled away and felt something slip from his finger. Osen’s ring. He’d forgotten about it. Everything I saw and felt would have been seen by … But he didn’t care. Achati was dead. Dead. And I stood by and watched and did nothing.
Tayend walked over and placed a hand lightly on Dannyl’s shoulder. It was both unwelcome and yet soothing.
“Let’s go inside and wait,” he suggested. “Merria can take over from here.”
Resentment faded. Tayend understood. He followed his friend down into Achati’s house, along corridors and into the Master’s Room. There they stopped, looked around the room, then at each other. Tayend’s eyes glittered with tears. He walked over and wrapped his arms around Dannyl.
“I thought you didn’t like him,” Dannyl whispered.
“I did. Just not as much as you did.”
No. Not as much as I did. Dannyl bowed his head and let the tears come. When the worst of it had passed he was surprised to find he could feel affection and gratitude at the same time as grief and horror. I am so lucky Tayend is here with me. He has always understood me better than anyone. Even if we are never more than friends again, I hope we will always have this.
With Tayend beside him he would not mourn Achati alone. With Tayend close by he would be able to face the people who had killed Achati. With Tayend he had someone who would remember how fine a man Achati had been.
And now that I’ve seen how ruthless the Traitors can be, I must do what I can to ensure they don’t decide the Allied Lands need “freeing”, too.
Without taking his eyes from the Ashaki, Lorkin explored the pockets of his vest in case he had missed any strike or shield stones, but found none. The red and blue rings were depleted, so he had been using his own store of power. He didn’t want to use the power within the storestone until he had to.
He suspected it wouldn’t be necessary. The Traitors who had emerged from the palace were now joining with the main army, encircling the remaining Ashaki. Only a dozen or so Ashaki were left, surrounding and protecting the king.
He was not sure how long had passed since the battle had begun. A few hours, perhaps? From the angle and length of his shadow he guessed it was afternoon, but the smoke from the burning houses was giving the sunlight a deceptive golden glow that suggested the day was older than it was.
The battle had been surprisingly uncomplicated, with few Traitor deaths. Twenty or so had been lost during one side attack. While the Traitors on the right had defended themselves successfully, those on the left had been taken by surprise when the building beside them had exploded and Ashaki had surged out into their midst.
But the Ashaki had never stopped retreating. The battle had become a steady Traitor advance to the city centre. The Ashaki began to fall long before they reached it, and by the time they were driven to the parade their numbers were down to a third.
No magical battle that he’d ever read of had resembled this one. The parameters of magical fighting have changed. Gemstones have made it into something completely new. The Guild knows that it needs gemstones for defence, but it has no idea how badly. If it doesn’t adapt it will be left behind.
Still, the battle wasn’t over yet. He was all too aware that he wasn’t the only Traitor who had run out of stones. Their method of fighting ensured that, barring surprise attacks, all were protected until the entire army was exhausted. Only Savara knew how strong the army was now, through communication with the other Speakers, who received reports from each Traitor as he or she left the front. We could be onto our last stones or still bursting with power, Lorkin thought. Savara has shown no sign of concern, but then she’s very good at looking calm and confident.
He looked at her again. She was taking in the scene with narrowed eyes. Straightening, she raised an arm, palm facing outward – the signal to stop.
At once the Traitors stopped striking the Ashaki. The hum of power streaking through the air ended. The shuffle of feet ceased. Voices fell silent. The few sounds that followed were muted, as if all noise had been dampened.
A circle of Traitors surrounded the remaining Ashaki, who stared back defiantly. Lorkin looked from them to Savara.
What will she do? So far the order has been to kill all Ashaki. I’ve seen no Ashaki attempt to surrender. The few we heard about who were sympathetic to the slaves and did not want to fight the Traitors have left the country.
The order to kill all Ashakis had been to ensure their defeat. Now that they were defeated, would they remain unharmed if they surrendered? He thought of the stones keeping the wasteland lifeless. The Traitors could be ruthless …
Savara took a step forward, then another. Lorkin saw Tyvara tense. He turned the ring holding the storestone around so he could curl his fingers around it, ready to draw power if he needed it. Savara stopped.
“King Amakira,” she called.
The Ashaki did not move. Lorkin searched for some glimpse of the king among them. The silence lengthened.
“You are defeated,” Savara said. “Come forth, or are you too cowardly to show your face?”
Low voices were heard from the Ashaki now, then Lorkin saw movement.
“You expect me to surrender?”
Lorkin shivered at the voice. A memory rose of an old man on a throne, followed by the palace prison, the slave girl … He blinked them away and concentrated on the scene before him. The Ashaki parted and the king stepped out.
“We do not submit to Traitors,” he said.
As he spoke, his hand moved to his belt and closed around the hilt of a knife. Gems glittered in the sunlight as he drew the blade. He extended his arm toward Savara, pointing at her. He let the knife go. It hovered in the air. His arm dropped to his side.
Then, in a movement almost too fast to follow, it reversed and shot backward, plunging into his chest.
Lorkin sucked in a breath, and heard gasps from all around. Well, I didn’t expect that, he thought as the king fell, and was caught and lowered to the ground by the Ashaki behind him. Did he just commit suicide, or did he ask one of the Ashaki to—?
The rest of the Ashaki stepped back hastily as a bright light enveloped the king’s body. A sharp crack, followed by a roar like a fire flaring before a gust of wind, echoed between the buildings. The king’s remaining power, released as his control failed. Lorkin shuddered.
The light vanished, and all that was left was ash.
Then the air before Savara began to vibrate. Lorkin looked up to see that the remaining Ashaki’s gazes were fixed on her. Realising that the men were striking at their queen, the Traitors attacked. Lorkin winced at the dull thuds and crack of bones, as the last Ashaki fell before the onslaught. They didn’t bother to shield. They used their last magic in a final vain attempt to kill the Traitor queen, and to ensure they would die.
The Traitor strikes ended as quickly as they had begun, and a different kind of silence fell. One filled with relief as well as horror. Savara’s shoulders lifted and dropped and she bowed her head. She didn’t look up or speak, and as time stretched the Traitors began to frown and exchange glances. As Tyvara stepped forward, concern in her eyes, Lorkin followed, but he kept a few steps back, ready to help but leaving Tyvara to speak.
Savara looked at Tyvara and shook her head. “Ashaki and Traitors. We are so different. And yet we are the same. So determined we are right.
“The Traitors are no more too. We will have soon destroyed what we rebelled against. We should now call ourselves Sachakans.”
“We are not the same,” Tyvara told her. “The Ashaki are no more.”
Savara looked back at Lorkin. “What do you think? Are we the same?”
Lorkin shook his head. “No. Yes, you are determine
Savara eyebrows rose. “An interesting observation from a Kyralian and former Guild magician.”
He shrugged, then managed a smile. “But don’t tell me you’ve succeeded where the Guild failed until you’ve successfully held onto power here for a few decades – and have done so without being as ruthless as the Ashaki.”
A faint smile thinned her lips, then she straightened and looked around the circle of Traitors. “The battle is over,” she called out. “The hard work now begins. You know what to do.”
Lorkin saw wry expressions and weary resignation as the circle of Traitors broke apart. The Speakers started forward and Savara walked over to meet them. The rest of the Traitors gathered into teams. Listening to a group nearby, Lorkin heard the leader asking how many stones were left. As they counted, she asked for a volunteer to take messages to the former slaves, telling them it was safe to return to the city.
He felt something poke him in the ribs and turned to see Tyvara nodding toward Savara. The queen and the Speakers were moving away. He fell into step beside her as she followed them. Savara will need guarding for some time yet, he realised. Then he shook his head. Somehow I’ve wound up as a royal bodyguard. I never would have predicted that.
“There are many, many dead slaves in the palace,” Speaker Shaiya was saying. “I can’t estimate how long it will take to remove the bodies. Even if we could clear them tonight, we won’t know it’s completely safe until we search all rooms.”
“And the free servants?”
Shaiya shook her head. “Most resisted us. The rest fled.”
“They were raised to be loyal,” Savara said. “And, unlike slaves, they had something to lose. We were never going to win them over.” She sighed. “We need a safe base from which to organise. Somewhere central. What about one of these houses?”
Shaiya looked around. “I’ll send teams in to investigate.”
CHAPTER 29
A NEW AND FRIGHTENING FREEDOM