The Rogue (26 page)

A crease between her eyebrows deepened. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it without speaking a word. Her chin rose and she gave him an imperious glare, before turning on her heels and stalking out of the room again.

A murmur of voices arose once she was gone. Lorkin looked at Evar, who smiled in reply.

“She’s mad. She’s very, very mad. But you were expecting that, weren’t you. Did the magical Healing work?”

Lorkin grimaced. “Judging from her reaction, it looks like it might have.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Evar sounded surprised.

“No. Magical Healing can’t cure everything. A fever like this one could still be fatal, if the patient’s body is incapable of fighting it. All magic can do is Heal the damage and restore some strength.”

Evar shook his head. “If Kalia’s allies had known that, they might not have been so keen to play this waiting game with you.”

“Well, I hope they’re enjoying this game, Evar,” Lorkin replied curtly. “Because I don’t like playing with people’s lives.”

Evar looked at Lorkin thoughtfully, then nodded. “If the girl lives, then at least you’ll have that to feel good about.”

Lorkin sighed. “Yes.” He looked at his friend. “I don’t suppose you could find out how she is for me?”

His friend straightened. “I can do that. If Kalia is back by then I’ll wink if all is well, shrug if they can’t tell, and cross my eyes if she’s doing badly.” He grinned. “Good luck.”

Turning away, Evar headed for the corridor. Lorkin watched him go, then someone called his name and his attention returned to the patients.

“The Westside hospice sees fewer local patients,” Sonea explained as she led Dorrien down the main corridor. “But that is more than made up for by the foreign patients, since we are closer to the Marina and the Market.”

Dorrien chuckled. “I guess they don’t have hospices in their homelands.”

“Actually, some of the Allied Lands do,” she told him. “Vin and Lonmar have a few each, and Lan is in the process of opening their own. They were set up either by Healers who were inspired to start hospices elsewhere, or Healers from those lands who wanted to help their own people in the same way as Kyralia does.”

“Not Elyne?”

She shook her head. “Not for lack of trying. The Elyne king won’t allow it. The Elynes still have their guild of non-magical healers, founded long before the Guild, who don’t look fondly on magicians robbing them of their trade. Now, the treatment rooms here are set up much the same way …”

Sonea moved to a door bearing the number she had been told to look for. She knocked softly, and soon afterwards the door opened and the familiar face of one of the Healers from Northside grinned out at them.

“Go on in,” Sylia said, slipping out, waving them inside, then closing the door behind them.

The room was similar to those at the Northside hospice. A table divided it, with a couple of seats for patients and anyone they might have brought with them, and a seat for the Healer on the other side of the table.

Instead of a Healer, Cery was waiting for them. He smiled, but his posture was hunched and tense. His gaze moved from Sonea to Dorrien.

“So this is your new assistant and bodyguard?” he asked.

Sonea snorted softly. “Assistant, yes. As for whether Dorrien is my bodyguard or I his …” She looked at Dorrien, who smiled crookedly. “We’ll have to see how things turn out. Cery, this is Dorrien. Dorrien, this Cery.”

The two men nodded politely.

“Have you been waiting long?” Dorrien asked.

Cery shrugged. “A while. I got here early.”

“Checking the place out?”

“Of course.”

“How’s business?” Sonea asked.

Cery’s smile slipped away, leaving him looking gaunt and tired. “Not good. It is a good thing I’ve stowed plenty away in case of times like these.”

“Will it last?”

He grimaced. “A year at most. I’d be tempted to leave you to it and get out of town earlier if it weren’t for …” He spread his hands.

Anyi
, she thought.
I hope she manages to slip away without raising suspicion.

Cery had received a message saying that Anyi would be visiting a Healer here. They could only hope it had come from his daughter and wasn’t part of a plot to ambush him.
Which is why Dorrien and I are here.

They chatted for several more minutes. She had warned Dorrien not to ask for details about Cery’s business, and thankfully he was following her advice. If he didn’t know about anything he was supposed to report to the Guard, he wasn’t in danger of breaking any laws for the sake of catching Skellin.

A knock at the door brought all three around to face the entrance. Sonea stepped forward and opened the door a crack. She sighed in relief to see Anyi and Sylia waiting. Opening the door, she thanked Sylia and let Anyi in.

Cery rose to his feet, his eyes roving all over his daughter protectively.

“Are you … is everything … is that a bruise?”

“I’m fine,” Anyi told him. “I told Rek that I thought I might have broken my wrist in practice and I’d better get it checked out. An injured guard isn’t as good at her job as an uninjured one.”

“What has he got you guarding?”

She smiled. “His mistress. She seems to think that ‘guard’ means ‘servant’, and I’m having some fun convincing her otherwise.”

Cery sat down again. “So. What news do you have for us?”

Anyi looked around the room, her mouth forming an unconvincing pout. “Isn’t my fine company enough? Haven’t you missed me?”

“You wouldn’t have risked this meeting if you didn’t have news.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You could at least pretend to have missed me.” She crossed her arms. “Well, as it happens, I do have news. I know for sure that Rek has been given tasks to do by Jemmi that were favours for Skellin.”

“Jemmi is a Thief,” Sonea murmured to Dorrien.

“What animal is a Jemmi?” he murmured back.

“The Thieves don’t always adopt animal names now.”

“Ah.”

“How often?” Cery asked his daughter.

“Often enough.” Anyi’s eyes gleamed. “There’s a delivery of roet happening in a few weeks. I can try to find out where. I don’t know if Skellin will be there, though.”

“But Skellin’s men will be?” Dorrien asked.

Anyi nodded.

Dorrien looked at Sonea, his eyes bright with excitement. “So we catch them and you can read their minds and find out where Skellin is.” He frowned. “Wait … that would be breaking the rules for black magicians, wouldn’t it?”

Sonea shook her head. “Osen has given Kallen and I permission to read minds if we need to. But the real problem is: what if Skellin’s men don’t know where Skellin is? We’ll have revealed that Anyi is a spy for nothing.”

“Hmm,” Cery said. He looked at Anyi. “Though I’d rather have you back with me, we should wait until we learn of a meeting that Skellin will definitely go to.”

Anyi shrugged. “I’ll keep my ears open. Something better is bound to come along.”

They discussed strategies and ways to communicate until there was a tap at the door. Sylia reported that it was being noted they were taking a little long for a Healing consultation. Anyi farewelled her father and left. Cery stared at the door after she had gone, then sighed and looked at Sonea.

“Heard anything from Lorkin?”

She winced at the pang of worry that went through her, and shook her head. “But Dannyl sent word that the Traitors might be amenable to carrying messages between us, so I’ve sent him one in case they are.”

“That’s a start,” he said, managing a smile.

She nodded. “I’d better get on with showing Dorrien around. Good to see you Cery. Take care of yourself.”

“You too,” he replied.

After she and Dorrien had left the room, Sylia slipped back in to arrange smuggling Cery out of the hospice. Sonea led Dorrien down the corridor to the storeroom.

“That is one very worried man,” Dorrien said, when he’d checked to ensure they were alone.

“Yes,” Sonea agreed.

“I think of my daughters, and I’m not sure I could send either of them into danger to spy for me.”

“No, but he didn’t exactly send her. She sent herself. She’s quite a determined young woman.”

Dorrien looked thoughtful. “She would have grown up in the harder part of the city, wouldn’t she? And she’d have to grow up tough, being a Thief’s daughter.”

“She didn’t grow up under Cery’s protection. When her mother left him, she took Anyi with her. She was a proud woman, and wouldn’t accept Cery’s help even when they were desperately poor. Anyi grew up fast and tough, but for other reasons.”

“Still, to have lost a wife and children and then watch your only daughter put herself in danger …” He shook his head.

“That’s why we must be careful. We must be sure that when we find Skellin, there is no chance it will put Anyi or Cery in danger.”

Dorrien nodded in agreement.
Good
, Sonea thought.
I was beginning to think he is getting a bit too eager to prove himself, and might seize the first opportunity that came along if I wasn’t there to stop him. Now he’ll think through the risks before he acts.

Hopefully, with Anyi playing spy, a better opportunity would come along soon – and not just because they needed to catch Skellin. Cery looked like he hadn’t slept in a month.

Sachaka traded mainly with lands to its north and east, across the Aduna Sea, and this was more apparent at the docks than anywhere else in the city. Dannyl was startled by the size of the exotic ships moored there, and the sheer number of them. Masts waved like a great leafless forest, stretching from the shore out into the broad bay of Arvice.

The Guild House slaves were unlashing travelling trunks from the back of the carriage and lifting them down with the help of Achati’s two personal slaves. Dannyl noticed how Achati was following the procedure closely. A Kyralian magician would have moved the trunks with magic, but Sachakans did not lower themselves to such menial work. The slaves were using ropes and a winch built into the back of the vehicle for the purpose, but from the way the four thin men were having little trouble lifting the heavy trunks, Dannyl suspected they were getting magical help from their master anyway.

Achati’s trunk required two men to carry it. Tayend’s was of about the same size. Dannyl’s was considerably smaller.
Sometimes having to wear a uniform for most of your life has its advantages
, Dannyl thought
.
But he had also brought an additional trunk – more like a large box – containing writing implements, notebooks, and space for any records or objects he might acquire.

A sigh drew Dannyl’s attention away. He glanced at Merria, whose scowl softened only slightly as she met his gaze. His assistant was still angry at being left behind. She had barely spoken to him since learning that Tayend was going on the research trip as well.

He resisted the urge to look at Tayend. The Elyne Ambassador was standing beside Dannyl, rocking gently in his elaborate, expensive shoes. Dannyl had barely spoken to Tayend after returning from Achati’s house and asking his former lover why he wanted to travel with them.

“
Oh, as Ambassador I really ought to learn as much as I can about this country
,” Tayend had replied. “
I’ve seen plenty of Arvice. Time to see something beyond the city walls.
”

Dannyl hadn’t heard Tayend and Merria conversing, either. With most of its occupants not talking to each other, the Guild House had been very quiet.

He considered Tayend’s excuse. Was that all there was to it?
I doubt he’s coming because he’s interested in my research. Or is he? If he knows about the storestone he might be as concerned as Achati and I are about the possibility another may exist or be created. But how could he know about the storestone? I haven’t told him. Surely Achati hasn’t …

Maybe there’s another reason Tayend wanted to accompany them. He had already shown he was aware of Achati’s personal interest in Dannyl. Was he trying to ensure Dannyl and Achati did not become lovers?

Dannyl frowned.
Why would he do that? Jealousy? No. Tayend was the one to point out that he and I are no longer a couple. He never said he wanted to change that.

Beside him, Tayend cleared his throat. He paused, then drew in a breath to speak.

“Ambassador?”

Dannyl reluctantly turned to look at him.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me coming along?”

“Of course not,” Dannyl replied.

He returned to watching the slaves. Achati’s pair were not the same two as those who had accompanied him on the search for Lorkin. Dannyl wondered what had happened to Varn. Then his thoughts slipped back to his companions as he sensed that Merria was staring at him. He turned to look at her, and she smiled. This struck him as odd. There was amusement in the smile, and he couldn’t help feeling it was at his expense.

“Here is the captain,” Achati announced. He waved at the ship the slaves were carrying the trunks toward. It was smaller than the exotic trading vessels surrounding it, intended to transport only passengers – important passengers. On its cabin had been carved the name
Inava
, inlaid with gold that sparkled in the sun. A Sachakan dressed in all the finery Dannyl would expect of an Ashaki was standing on the deck, waiting for them to come aboard along the narrow bridge strung between wharf and ship. The slaves carried the trunks toward a second bridge further down the vessel. “Time to say your goodbyes,” Achati added.

Dannyl and Tayend turned to Merria. She smiled brightly.

“Have a good trip, Ambassadors, Ashaki,” she said, nodding politely. Then a knowing, slightly smug look entered her eyes. “I hope you don’t get on each other’s nerves.”

So that’s what she’s finding so amusing
, Dannyl mused
.
“Goodbye, Lady Merria,” he replied. “I know I am leaving the Guild House in capable hands.”

Her smile faded to a resigned look. “Thanks.” She backed toward the carriage and made a shooing motion. “Don’t keep the captain waiting.”