The Traitor Queen (26 page)

Nobody spoke. The foremost ex-slaves glanced at each other, then one held out his wrists to the queen.

“We want to give you … we have nothing to give you … do you need to take power from us?”

Savara drew in a quick breath. “We don’t need to yet but …”

“Take it,” Tyvara murmured. “They will feel they had a part in the fight for their freedom.”

The queen smiled. “I would be honoured.” She looked down at the knife at her belt. “But not with this. This is for our enemies.”

One of the ex-slaves stepped forward. “Then use this.”

In his hand was a small knife obviously meant for a domestic task like tailoring or wood carving. Savara took it and felt
the edge for sharpness. She nodded and handed it back. The man looked confused.

“You must make the cut,” she said. “I will not deliberately harm my own people.”

He ran the blade across the back of his thumb, then held out his hand to her. Touching the cut lightly, Savara closed her
eyes and bowed her head. The man closed his eyes.

A short time passed. As Savara withdrew her hand she looked up at the rest of the ex-slaves. “We cannot stay long. I cannot
take power from all of you.”

“Then we’ll give it to your fighters,” the first speaker declared. The rest nodded and turned their attention to the other
Traitors. Lorkin noted that, as domestic knives were found to be lacking, the Traitors were handing over their own knives.
When a woman offered her wrists to Lorkin he blinked in surprise.

“Um … Tyvara?”

She chuckled. “You’re one of us now,” she said. “Better get used to it.”

“Oh, that’s not the problem.” He put a hand to his sheath-less belt. “I don’t have a knife.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Then I guess we’d better see to that at the first opportunity. For now,” she looked at the
man facing her with hand extended, “we’ll have to share.”

The sun was hovering above the mountains when Sonea and Regin neared the first Ashaki estate. Gold-tinged light bathed the
walls the colour of old parchment. In contrast the hole in the roof was an ominous black.

The estate was swarming with people.

“Slaves,” Regin said. “Looting?”

Sonea shook her head. She could see a line of men hauling rubble out of the building. “Cleaning up.”

Regin frowned. “Surely they’d have run away when the Traitors attacked – and stayed away now they have their freedom.”

“They’ve got to live somewhere, and there’s food and shelter here. I wonder: if the Traitors win will they take over the estates
or give them to the slaves?”

“Hmm.” Was Regin’s only answer. “They’ve seen us.”

Sure enough, a group of about a dozen slaves had stepped out of the gates and were walking toward them. Sonea pictured what
she and Regin must look like. Their robes clearly marked them as Kyralian magicians. As Kyralians they might not be welcome
here, but she doubted even newly freed slaves flushed with victory would dare to attack them.

“What do you want to do?” Regin asked.

Sonea stopped. “Meet them. Better to know what reception we’re going to get now, than later, when we’ll be further from the
border.”

About twenty strides away, the group slowed to a halt.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” one of them called out.

“I am Black Magician Sonea and this is Lord Regin, of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia. We are here as representatives of the
Allied Lands.”

“Who invited you here?” the man demanded again.

“We met Queen Savara two days and three nights ago.”

“Why are you following a few days behind, then?”

“To avoid being caught up in the fighting.”

The slaves began discussing this. Osen had agreed that Sonea and Regin could follow the Traitors to Arvice, keeping a safe
distance from the fighting, so that the Guild would keep track of the Traitors’ progress. He’d suggested that Sonea use the
excuse that she was checking the way was safe for the Healers the Guild was sending – but only if she had to. The fewer who
knew of the deal, the less chance the Sachakan king would learn of it. If the Traitors lost but enough of them survived and
were still willing to trade their stones, it would be easier to get Healers to them if the king didn’t know about it.

The slave who had spoken strode forward, the others hurrying after him. Regin straightened and crossed his arms, but the man
ignored him. The lead slave stopped a few steps from Sonea, staring at her intently, his eyes narrowing.

“We’ll have to check that is the truth.”

She nodded. “Of course.” Inwardly she cursed. If they did manage to contact Savara, the queen would learn that Sonea and Regin
were following her. She might try to stop them.

The main straightened. “In the meantime, you must stay here. It will be night soon and we Sachakans pride ourselves on our
hospitality.”

She inclined her head. “We would be honoured. With whom are we staying?”

The man paused and looked down, his confidence disappearing as if he had suddenly realised his behaviour had been unnecessarily
confrontational. “I am Farchi,” he said. He turned to introduce the others. Too many names to remember, Sonea decided. She
took note of the names of the boldest, and the sole woman in the group.

With a gracious movement, Farchi invited her and Regin to accompany him to the estate. As they walked, Sonea figured she might
as well find out what had happened here.

“If it is not rude of me to ask, is the damage here from a Traitor attack?”

Farchi nodded. “The queen and her fighters killed the Ashaki and freed his slaves.”

“What will you do now?”

“Try to run things on our own, and with the Traitors’ help.”

“So the Traitors aren’t going to take ownership of this place?”

“Some estates they will take. Most will go to ex-slaves. Some will be divided up.”

“And the rest of the ex-slaves?”

“Will be paid for their work. And be free to live where they want, marry who they want, and keep their children.”

She smiled. “I hope with all my heart that you achieve this.”

Farchi’s chin rose and his back straightened. “We will. The Traitors are Sachakans. They will not abandon the task, as the
Guild did.”

She looked at him closely. “How do you know they did? Our records indicate no decision by the Guild or Kyralia to stop trying
to end slavery in Sachaka.”

He frowned. “It’s … what everyone says.”

“They also say that the Guild created the wasteland to weaken Sachaka, but historical records found here in Sachaka
point toward it being the action of one madman, and many Guild magicians died trying to stop him.”

And we now know that the Traitors are to blame for the wasteland never recovering
. She resisted telling him that. The Traitors were the ex-slaves’ rescuers. Even if they did believe her, it would undermine
the Traitors’ efforts to prevent Sachakan society falling into chaos once the Ashaki no longer controlled it.
But one day the truth will come out. I wonder what the ex-slaves will think of the Traitors then
.

“Was this madman Kyralian or Sachakan?”

“Kyralian.”

“So it is still your fault.”

Sonea sighed. “Yes, whether it was deliberate or a mistake, it was still the fault of a Kyralian. Just as it was the fault
of all Sachakans that Ichani attacked Kyralia and murdered many of my people.” She met his gaze and held it, and he quickly
looked away. “If I don’t blame you for the crimes of the Ichani twenty years ago, can you try to forgive me the act of a madman
six hundred years ago?”

Farchi gave her a long, appraising look, then nodded. “That’s fair.”

She smiled, and followed him through the gates into a scene of destruction and hope, grief and newfound freedom.

As Cery joined Gol he drew in a deep breath of clean, forest air.

“Smells like spring.”

“Yes,” Gol agreed. “It’s warm at night now, too.”

“Warm
er
,” Cery corrected. “As in warmer than cold enough to freeze your eyeballs.”

Gol chuckled. “We’ll have to skirt around the farm to get to the part of wall nearest the meeting place.”

“Lead on, then.”

With most of the undergrowth hidden in the night shadows cast by the forest, it was impossible to walk quietly and without
stumbling. The passages below were a lot easier to get around, even in complete darkness. By the time they got to the wall
that separated the Guild grounds from the city, Cery was sure that they must have attracted someone’s attention with all the
snapped twigs, rustling leaves and stifled curses. They waited for a while to make sure nobody and was coming to investigate,
but no magician, servant or guard emerged from the darkness. Satisfied, they scaled the wall with the help of a nearby tree
branch. From the top Cery could look over the eastern end of the North Quarter. Houses were built up against the wall, their
yards divided by lower brick walls topped with an upside-down “v” embedded with broken glass to discourage climbing. The one
below them contained a neat little garden.

Gol looped the end of a rope ladder around the tree branch they’d climbed to get on top of the wall, and knotted it. The rope
had been another item stolen from the farm, and Gol had used short branches found in the forest as the rungs. He climbed down
into the yard first, the rope creaking. Cery followed. They skirted the garden beds, paused to oil the hinges of the side
gate to the yard, then slipped out into the shadows of the street beyond.

To walk the streets of the city felt like freedom. As they made their way through the neighbourhood, Cery wavered between
excitement and worry at the risk they were taking. At least Anyi was safely back in the Guild with Lilia. He hadn’t told her
his plans for the evening, knowing that she would either try to stop him, or insist on coming. Even if he had talked her into
staying behind, she’d have wanted to know
why he was going into the city, and he could not think of a good enough reason.

Other than the truth. But I doubt she’d have found that a good enough reason anyway
, he thought.
She wants me to live in the Guild and leave catching Skellin to the magicians
. She trusted the Guild too much.
And I don’t?
He shook his head.
Not with Sonea gone and Kallen in charge of finding Skellin
.

He hadn’t completely given up on the Guild, though. They weren’t going to stop trying to find and deal with rogue magicians.
But they’d take longer at it than he was prepared to wait.

To force their hand I need minefire, to buy that I need money, and the only caches I had that Skellin hasn’t found are in
the hands of minders
.

Minders who didn’t believe Cery was alive, and had refused to give the cache to Gol.

The risk of a trap was high, of course. He and Gol had selected the minder least likely to betray them to meet tonight. His
name was Perin. Gol had hired three different street urchins as guides, each to take Perin on a winding journey through three
Quarters of the city. The last instructions were written down, so that not even the urchins would see where Perin went. The
meeting place was within a hundred paces of the wall, so if Cery and Gol had to run they had a fighting chance of reaching
the grounds.

Reaching a crossroads, they stopped and looked around. Here the doorways were shallow and the street lamps bright. Nowhere
to hide for several strides, so it would be difficult for someone to ambush them. A man stood on the opposite corner, watching
them. Though Cery could not see all of the man’s face, what was visible was familiar.

“Perin,” Gol murmured.

Cery nodded. He crossed the road and approached the man. Perin stared at him intently, his eyes widening as he recognised
Cery.

“Well, well. You’re alive and breathing.”

“I am,” Cery said, stopping a few paces away.

“Here.” Perin held out a wrapped parcel. “Send a messenger if you want the rest.”

“Thanks. I owe you.”

The minder grimaced. “No you don’t. I have my fee, and the satisfaction of knowing the bastard who calls himself king didn’t
get to everyone.” He held out a hand. Cery hesitated, then moved closer so the man could briefly clasp his arm, and did the
same in return. “Best of luck and health,” Perin said, his brows lowering as his gaze moved over Cery’s face. “Looks like
you could do with some.”

Then the man stepped back, smiled tiredly and turned to walk away. Cery heard Gol quietly move closer behind him.

Did he mean luck or health? Or both? Am I looking as old and tired as I feel lately?

He felt a touch on his elbow. Shaking his head, he turned and followed Gol back to the house by the wall, through the gate
and up the rope ladder. It was harder climbing up than down, but as they made their way through the forest he felt his mood
lift. Their journey had been worth the risk. Gol had money to buy minefire. They were closer to being ready to lure Skellin
into their trap.

And it was nice to know that someone, even if just a minder, was pleased to know Cery was still alive.

S
itting down at his desk, Dannyl took Osen’s blood ring out of his pocket.
Oh, how I wish I could put this off a little longer
. But he couldn’t. Osen expected Dannyl to report back to him every two or three days. He would be annoyed or alarmed if Dannyl
didn’t.

Even so, Dannyl hesitated.
I’ve never been able to tell how much of my mind Osen can read during our communications. I always assumed he, knowing my
preferences, doesn’t look too deeply – and that he would have objected already if they thought I was getting too friendly
with Achati
. And that Osen could only read the thoughts Dannyl was actively
thinking
while wearing the ring, not all his memories.

It should be enough, then, to avoid thinking about his night with Achati while communicating with Osen. Of course, the subject
a person was most worried about was the one their mind would most likely turn to. Overcoming that took concentration and control,
skills Dannyl had painstakingly cultivated as a novice.

He closed his eyes and practised some mind-calming exercises. When he felt he had control over his thoughts, he slipped on
the ring. Osen’s mental voice immediately spoke.

—
Dannyl. Good. I have urgent news for you. Sonea met with the Traitors a few nights ago. Their queen, Savara, revealed their
intention to overthrow Amakira and the Ashaki, and free all slaves
.

He needn’t have worried how much Osen would see in his mind. The Administrator would be well distracted by this news. Dannyl
felt his heart skip as Osen told him of the declined invitation to the Allied Lands to join them, and the deal they’d struck
instead.

—
Lorkin has joined the Traitors. Sonea and Regin are heading to Arvice, following them
.

—
The Traitors are on their way?!

—
Yes. They attacked the first estates yesterday. I don’t know how long it will take them to get to Arvice, if they get that
far at all
.

—
Do you think they’ll win?
If Lorkin was with them, surely he believed they could. But if Lorkin’s loyalty was with the Traitors now, he might choose
to help them
because
their chances weren’t good.

—
Impossible to say. Sonea believes they’ve been organising this for a very long time. They weren’t forced into confronting
the Ashaki. She doesn’t think they’d risk everything they have if they didn’t think they’d win
.

And yet Achati didn’t think they had a chance. The man’s face rose in Dannyl’s mind and he felt a stab of apprehension before
he pushed it aside.

—
I’m sorry, Dannyl. I know you regard Achati as a friend, but you cannot warn him. It would alert Amakira to the fact that
we knew about this before he did. Do not do anything to raise suspicions of our foreknowledge of this
.

—
I understand. What should we do?

—
Stay where you are. Stay together – and that includes Tayend. Stay out of sight. The Traitors won’t harm you. The Ashaki shouldn’t,
if they don’t suspect we’re siding with the Traitors. Make sure Merria and Tayend understand all I have told you
.

—
I will. Any messages for them?

—
No. Sonea and Regin will join you when they get there, but I doubt they’ll reach you until after the conflict is over
.

—
We’ll stay put. At least they’ll know where to find us
.

—
Yes. From now on report to me once a day, or as soon as you learn anything new. Take care, Dannyl. Contact me if anything
happens
.

Slipping off the ring, Dannyl stared at it again.
Sachaka is at war
, he thought.
An army is heading this way. An army of black magicians. Who will no doubt encounter an army of King Amakira’s black magicians
– a conflict of a kind not seen in over six centuries
.

He pocketed the ring, rose and strode out of the room, slaves scattering before him. He’d only taken twenty or so steps down
the corridor when a female voice called out.

“Ambassador!”

He turned to see Merria hurrying toward him.

“I heard something last night you will find interesting,” she said.

“Should Tayend know this, too?”

She nodded.

He beckoned and heard her fall into step behind him. They passed through the Master’s Room, entered the corridor beyond and
soon reached the door to Tayend’s rooms. The female slave waiting attentively inside the main door threw herself onto the
floor.

“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. Kallen followed their gaze and nodded. “You’ll do, Lord Bokkin. Follow me.”

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.