The Ambassador's Mission

CHAPTER 26

A LONG NIGHT



It was Unh who had noticed the scatter of stalks beside the road, which he said might be feed that had spilled from a cart when it had stopped there. The local Ashaki hadn’t wanted to investigate, eager to chase after the cart, but Achati had sided with the tribesman, jokingly reminding them that Unh hadn’t been hired so that they had someone to ignore.

The tribesman found the tracks of three people wearing slave shoes – a man and two women – leading away from the road.

“I see this print at the last place,” Unh told them, pointing to a slight depression in the sandy ground. “The shape is longer and thinner than Sachakan foot, and there a hole under the heel.”

They had all been impressed with Unh. Now, hours later, they were not so pleased with him. After finding the tracks, they’d sent the carriages and horses on to the next estate with Achati’s driver, and continued on foot. At the tanner’s huts, they’d followed one of the three clear trails leading away. They’d been in a hurry because the sun was dipping toward the horizon, but it had made the tracker’s job harder. Long shadows, then twilight, made it difficult for him to make out the finer details of the footprints and other signs he was following. The Sachakans resisted creating a light for him, as it would make them visible from a distance in this exposed landscape. Nobody had been concerned, however, as the trail was still clear enough for them to follow it.

It was with a surge of triumph that Dannyl had spotted the figures in the distance. But the feeling hadn’t lasted long. It turned to dismay as he realised Lorkin was not among them.

Much cursing had followed. The Traitors they’d tracked were too far ahead to be caught and questioned, because doing so would take too much time, so Dannyl and his Sachakan helpers had hurried back to the huts. By then it was night, and creating a light for the tracker was unavoidable. To direct the light where he needed it they had to follow closely behind Unh, and several times they wound up trampling the signs he was looking for. It made the process of picking up the trail slow and difficult, so when Unh had lost the trail completely a few hours later, Achati decided they should camp for the night and continue after the sun rose.

The slaves dropped their burdens with obvious relief. But though they were obviously exhausted, their masters were more demanding than usual. The Ashaki groaned and complained, and had their slaves rub their legs and feet. At first Dannyl was puzzled, then he remembered that the one kind of magic the Sachakans didn’t possess knowledge of was Healing. While he had been soothing away the aches and pains and blisters of walking, they had no choice but to suffer.

I hadn’t realised how much of an advantage it is to us. It could be a significant one, if our countries were ever to fight each other, or another enemy. If we both have to trek to meet our foe, the Sachakans will be the only ones sore and tired from the effort.

The Duna tribesman abruptly rose and announced he was going to try locating the trail again. Achati looked at the others, saying that someone should go with him to keep them both shielded. Dannyl stood up.

“I’ll go. Unless you need me here?”

The magician shook his head. “Go. Keep your shield strong and don’t go too far. The Traitors may be watching us. They may not dare to kill anyone, but if they injured one or some of us we’d have to split up or slow down.”

Following Unh out of the camp, Dannyl created a globe light and set it hovering ahead of the man. He stayed several paces back and tried to step wherever the tribesman did so that he couldn’t possibly be trampling on any tracks but Unh’s. The distance between them made keeping both within a shield challenging.

The Sachakans had camped in a bowl-like hollow between two ridges. Unh made his way around the shorter arm of one ridge, keeping his eyes to the ground. After several paces he squatted and stared at the ground, then looked up at Dannyl and beckoned.

Dannyl closed the distance between them, then looked where Unh was pointing.

“See here,” the man said. “That stone has been stepped upon, then pushed back into the dirt. You can see the direction the stepper was going by the way there is a groove at the front, and a tiny mound at the back.”

It was rather obvious now that the man had pointed it out.

“How do you know it was a human and not an animal?”

Unh shrugged. “I don’t. It would have to be a big animal though, and most of those were hunted out long ago.”

He rose and went looking for more signs of passage. Dannyl followed, concentrating on holding the shield, directing the globe light, and walking only where the tribesman did. They stopped again and again, Unh pointing out a thread of cloth caught on one of the few stunted trees, some human hair, and some distinct footprints in a sandy area. Then he spent a long time examining the ground, and Dannyl used the opportunity to look around, trying not to imagine figures watching them in the darkness. He glanced to the side and felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Is that a cave?” he asked, pointing at a crack in the steep slope to one side.

Unh rose and approached the gash of darkness in the rock slowly. He continued to scan the ground, his head nodding from it to the crack and back again.

“Nobody went this way,” he said. He touched the side of the opening. “This happen not long ago.”

He beckoned and Dannyl hurried over. They peered into the darkness. Dannyl drew magic and created another light, which he sent inside. Stones filled the base of the crack, sloping downward then levelling off. The sides of the opening continued for a short way, then ended in darkness.

“There a bigger space inside. Want to look?” Unh asked.

Dannyl glanced back toward the camp, which was not far out of sight, then nodded. Unh grinned, an expression at odds with his usual dignified aloofness. A thrill of eagerness went through Dannyl, not unlike the excitement he’d felt so long ago when exploring the Allied Lands with Tayend.

Unh gestured to the opening. “You first.”

Dannyl chuckled. Of course. He was far more likely to survive if they happened to surprise a wild animal, or Traitors.

The floor was loose gravelly rock, and he half slid down into the space. Looking around, he saw only darkness and the hint of walls all around. He paused as Unh slid down to join him, then he increased the strength of the light …

… and ducked as walls of glittering gemstones shone back at him. A sound echoed in the room, and he realised he had let out a wordless exclamation of fear.

No relentless strikes came. He was breathing heavily, his heart hammering in his chest.

“You seen something like this before,” Unh stated. He was regarding Dannyl with interest.

Dannyl looked at him. “Yes.” No point denying it. His reaction had been nothing less than obvious.

“This not dangerous.”

The man spoke with certainty and authority. Now it was Dannyl’s turn to look at his companion with curiosity.

“You know what this is?”

Unh nodded and looked around, his expression knowing and happy. “Yes. These stones have no power. They have not been raised to have power. They are natural. Safe.”

“So … the stones in the place I was in before were made to be dangerous?”

“Yes. By people. Where was this place?”

“In Elyne. Beneath an ancient ruined city.”

Unh nodded again. “A people once lived in the mountains here. They knew the secret of the stones. But they are gone. All things end.” He shook his head. “Not all,” he corrected. “A few secrets Duna kept.”

“You know how to make gemstones with magic in them?”

“Not me. Some of my people. Trusted ones.” His expression darkened. “And Traitors. Long ago they came and made a pact. But they broke it and stole the secrets. That is why I help the Sachakans, even after what they do to my people. The Duna not forgiven the Traitors.”

“Do the Traitors know how to make caves like the one in Elyne?” Dannyl asked. If he’d known that, he’d never have entered this one like some child exploring for fun.

“No,” Unh replied. “Nobody knows that. Even the Duna forget some things.”

“That’s one thing probably best forgotten.”

“Yes.” Unh grinned. “I like you, Kyralian.”

Dannyl blinked in surprise. “Thank you. I like you, too.”

The man turned away. “We get back to camp now. I found trail.”

It was much harder to get out of the cave than into it, with the stones sliding out from under their feet, but the tribesman set his toes into the rough surface of one side of the crack and climbed out that way. Dannyl created a small disc of magic under his feet and levitated out. Unh seemed to find this very funny.

The walk back to camp was much quicker, since Unh no longer needed to stop and examine the ground. Dannyl was relieved to find that the magicians had let their slaves go to sleep, sprawled on the ground behind them. They were drinking some sort of liquor from the ornate cups each had brought with them. Dannyl accepted a measure of the fiery liquid. He only half listened to their conversation about an Ashaki’s son who had no skill as a trader and was going to ruin his family.

His mind kept returning to the fear that had coursed through him when he’d seen the walls of gemstones. I never even thought to wonder the worth of them as mere jewels, even after I calmed down. Hmm. I don’t think I did last time, either. But then, I was rather distracted …

A memory flashed through his mind of waking up utterly drained of power. Of Tayend, and the realisation of what he’d been hiding from himself for most of his life. That he was a “lad.” That he loved Tayend.

He felt a wave of sadness. A pity we had to change so much. Instead of growing around each other like that romantic notion of couples being like entwined trees, we became uncomfortably tangled, competing for water and soil.

He snorted softly. Such sentimental imagery was more the taste of Tayend’s poet friends. He looked at the Sachakans and Unh. They’d find such notions foolish, though in quite different ways.

Do the Traitors know of the cave? Unh said the crack was recent. I doubt the Sachakans do. From what I recall, the Duna’s main trade is selling gemstones. I wonder if Unh plans to come back with some of his people and harvest them before the Traitors discover them.

Then he recalled what Unh had said. The Duna knew how to make gemstones with magical properties. It was hard to imagine that a people like his could have access to such rare knowledge, yet live a simple, nomadic life.

Maybe it’s not all that simple, after all.

How was it that the Traitors could have such power, but have never left their hidden city? Clearly there were limitations to the gemstones. Maybe they had to be fixed to a surface, in a cave, in great numbers, in order to be an effective weapon.

The records of the storestone did not say it was fixed to anything. If it had been, removing it would have made it worthless. So why bother chasing after the thief?

Lorkin would be very interested to know what he’d learned tonight. But Lorkin was with the Traitors …

… and the Traitors had knowledge of magical gemstones.

Dannyl caught his breath.

Suddenly he understood something that was going to cause him considerable awkwardness with the men he was with, the Sachakan king, the Guild and, not the least, Lorkin’s mother.

Suddenly he understood there was a good chance Lorkin did not want to be found.


Not long after dawn, Savara had called a halt on a high, exposed ridge. The way had grown steeper and more rugged through the night, and all of the Traitors in their group had used tiny, faint lights hovering close to the ground to illuminate the way. After posting guards and sending out scouts, she told the rest of the group to settle just beyond the crest of the ridge, out of sight, and try to sleep.

“Our pursuers are several hours behind us now,” she said. “They’ll have to stop to rest, too, and they’re not as used to moving about in such rough territory as we are. We’ll continue on after sunset.”

The rest of the Traitors wore small packs like the ones Lorkin, Tyvara and Chari had carried since leaving the cart. He now discovered what the rolled-up bundles of thick fabric were. They were unrolling them for use as a mattress. He’d assumed they were some sort of blanket. But it made sense they’d carry a mattress over a blanket: magicians could heat the air but they couldn’t make the ground any softer.

Certainly not around here, he thought as he stretched out next to Chari and Tyvara. The area was all rock and stones, with the occasional twisted tree. Hearing footsteps, he turned to see Savara approaching and quickly got up again.

“I’ve considered your proposal and consulted with the queen,” she told him. Via a blood ring, no doubt, he thought. “If you still wish to accompany us to Sanctuary she will allow it. But she will not be the one to decide if you will be permitted to leave again. That decision will be made by vote, which makes it likely you will have to stay. Many Traitors will fear you will reveal the location of the city if we let you go.”

Lorkin nodded. “I understand.”

“Take some time to think about it,” she said. “But I will need your decision before we leave tonight.”

She moved away, climbing to the top of the ridge and sitting in the shadow of a large boulder. Keeping watch, Lorkin decided. He lay down again, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep with such a decision to make.

“Nobody would think badly of you if you went home,” a voice said nearby.

He rolled over to see Chari watching him, one arm beneath her head as a pillow.

“This other faction – the one that sent someone to kill me – will they try it again if I go to Sanctuary?” he asked.

“No,” she answered without hesitation. “One of our queens decided long ago that there can be no such thing as assassination in Sanctuary. I think a few of our people decided that if it was a good political tool outside of Sanctuary it would be so inside it too. In Sanctuary, murder is murder, except when it’s execution, which is the punishment for murder.”

Lorkin nodded. Which is what Tyvara is facing.

“Is there any chance a Traitor will want to read my mind?”

“They’ll all want to get a look inside that head of yours. But they aren’t allowed to unless you agree to it. Forcibly reading someone’s mind is also a serious crime. It would make us too much like the Ashaki.”

“So if I refuse … surely they will want to check if I’ve got good intentions before letting me into the city.”

“They’d love to. But laws are laws. Some of them are a little crazy. Like how the queen can decide if an outsider is allowed into the city, but not if they can leave again.”

“If I can’t leave, what will be expected of me then?”

“To follow our laws, of course.” She shrugged. “Which includes contributing to the work of the city. You can’t expect to be fed and have a bed to sleep on if you don’t help out in some way.”

“Sounds fair.”

Chari smiled. “Any more questions?”

“No.” Lorkin rolled onto his back. “Not yet, anyway.”

He’d done a lot of thinking since they’d joined Speaker Savara and her companions and learned that he might not be able to leave Sanctuary. In that time he’d listed reasons why he should and shouldn’t go there. The list of reasons not to was short:

I came to Sachaka to assist Dannyl, not go off on adventures of my own – even if those adventures might lead to a beneficial alliance for the Guild.

He didn’t have the authority to negotiate an alliance. But he only needed to get the Traitors to the point of wanting to negotiate and then arrange for a Guild magician with the authority to meet them. Like Dannyl.

Mother will not like it.

But this was a decision for him to make, for himself. Still, thinking of her he felt both longing and guilt. He did not like the thought of never seeing her again. Or never speaking to her. He still hadn’t had a chance to use her blood ring without revealing its existence to anyone. If he entered Sanctuary, would he be searched? Would the Traitors take the ring off him if they found it? If they were so suspicious of him that they wouldn’t let him leave Sanctuary, they certainly wouldn’t want him using a magical device that allowed him to convey everything he knew to the Guild.

He was beginning to think that he should use it soon, even if just to reassure his mother. And then find a place to hide it.

Retaining the ring is another reason not to go to Sanctuary. It’s only a small reason, though. And one I can remove.

There were many more reasons to go than not, however. First, there was Tyvara. He could not contemplate abandoning her. If he didn’t speak on her behalf at the trial, she might be executed. She had saved his life, and might die for it. Which would make it entirely his fault.

Even if I knew she would be fine, the thought of never seeing her again … His chest tightened and his heart began to beat faster. He frowned. There is more to this than an obligation to help her. I like her. A lot. I couldn’t abandon her, even if she doesn’t have the same feelings for me.

He thought about what Chari had hinted at. “Not any and every man for our Tyvara. Don’t worry about that.” The woman believed that Tyvara found him attractive. But Tyvara wasn’t behaving that way. She seemed determined to repel him, frowning and scowling when he talked to her, and trying to talk him into going home. Each time she did, Chari assured him that Tyvara felt guilty for not telling him earlier about the price for entering Sanctuary, and didn’t want him sacrificing his freedom for her sake.

But if I let her talk me into going home, she’d have not only saved me, but possibly sacrificed her own life for me. I can’t let that happen.

Tyvara wasn’t the only reason he ought to go to Sanctuary. To have come so far, got so close to these Traitors, and not attempt to set up negotiations between them and the Guild would be a waste of a great opportunity. He doubted that strangers often had the chance to enter Sanctuary and make such proposals. Even if the Traitors didn’t like the idea, at least he’d have put it into their minds.

But how realistic was it to hope that a people so secretive would, one day, decide to trade with the Guild?

Well, if they want Healing knowledge they’ll have to.

It was possible that the Traitors would decide it was safer to reject Healing and remain hidden to the world, keeping him trapped in Sanctuary. But it was worth the risk.

He had to admit, he did feel a nagging obligation to atone for his father’s betrayal. Though he would never give them Healing knowledge without the permission of the Guild, he could work toward gaining that permission. He felt like he owed the Traitors that much.

And if all goes to plan, we’ll get something in return. Perhaps only this ability to block mind-reading, but I have a feeling they have more to offer than that. I’m sure the mind-blocking is done with some sort of gem like the blood stones. That could be a whole new area of magic to be explored.

There was no way the Guild would agree to a trade with the Traitors while they had Lorkin imprisoned. Eventually, if the Traitors wanted Healing knowledge, they would have to let him go. In the meantime … Chari had mentioned records. Having been hidden away for several centuries, the Traitors must have historical information that Dannyl had never encountered before. Records that might lead to the rediscovery of ancient magic. Magic that the Guild could use for its defence.

Assuming that such magic does exist, can be used for defence, and I ever manage to get the information to the Guild.

Lorkin sighed. Perhaps he was being too optimistic, thinking that one day the Traitors would ally themselves with the Guild and the Allied Lands, and he would regain his freedom. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

Yet the Traitors were much better people than those that ruled the rest of Sachaka. They hated slavery, for a start. They counted all as equals, men and women, magicians and non-magicians.

They also had an incredible amount of influence over the country through their spies. He had to admit, the possibility of them taking over Sachaka one day was appealing. He had no doubt the first thing they would do is abolish slavery. He doubted they’d give up black magic, though. Still, it would be a big step toward Sachaka becoming one of the Allied Lands.

How can I give up and go back to Arvice, after all I’ve seen there? The slaves, the awful hierarchy based on inheritance and black magic. The Traitors’ society can’t be worse than that.

So many reasons to go to Sanctuary. So few to go back to Arvice.

He hadn’t realised he’d stood up until he found himself on his feet. The feeling of determination and decisiveness was exhilarating. He stepped past dozing women and walked to where Savara leaned against the rock wall, her eyes closed.

“I’ll come to Sanctuary,” he told her, guessing that she wasn’t asleep.

Her eyes flew open and snapped to his. She stared at him, her gaze disconcertingly intelligent. He found himself thinking that she must have been quite a beauty in her youth.

“Good,” she said.

“But you’re going to have to let me deal with Ambassador Dannyl,” he added. “He’s not going to give up. If you’d met my mother you’d understand why. Eventually he’ll either find Sanctuary or you’ll have to kill him. I rather like him, and would appreciate you not killing him. And if you did, there would probably be consequences that would not be good for the Traitors.”

“How will you persuade him to stop following you?”

He smiled grimly. “I know what to say to him. I’ll need to speak to him alone, though.”

“I doubt the Ashaki will let you go, if they see you.”

“We’ll have to lure him away from them.”

She frowned as she considered this. “I think we can arrange that.”

“Thank you.”

“Go sleep. We’ll have to let them catch up with us again, so we may as well get some rest in the meantime.”

He walked back to his mattress and found Tyvara sitting up, glaring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You had better not be thinking there is more between you and I than there actually is, Kyralian,” she said in a low voice.

He stared at her, feeling doubts starting to creep in. She stared back, then abruptly turned away and lay down with her back to him. He settled onto his mattress, feeling worry starting to eat at him.

Perhaps this is a one-sided thing …

“Don’t worry,” Chari whispered. “She always does this. The more she likes someone the more she pushes them away.”

“Shut up, Chari,” Tyvara hissed.

Lying on the hard ground, Lorkin knew that sleep was going to be impossible. It was going to be a very long day. And he was beginning to wonder if there might be a significant downside to living in a city of women like these.


As Regin related the final stages of the Ichani Invasion, Sonea cursed Cery again and tried not to listen. After leaving the Guild, she and the Healer who had brought the message had hurried to the hospice by carriage.

So many hours have passed since then, it feels like something that happened yesterday.

There had been a delay, she remembered. A Healer new to the hospice had pinned her down with questions about protocol. Sonea had told the man that he could ask such questions of any Healer there, and some of the helpers, but he didn’t seem to trust them. By the time Sonea extracted herself, Regin was there, waiting for her.

He arrived in a covered cart used to transport supplies to his family home. She had felt strangely out of place, riding in the back of an old cart, the both of them using empty crates as seats. But it was a smart move. They would attract too much attention if they arrived in a Guild carriage.

He’d also brought some threadbare old coats to wear over their robes. For that she was immensely grateful, and a little ashamed that she hadn’t considered how they were going to disguise themselves.

Well, I had a lot on my mind. A lot more than Regin knows. And while Cery knows about Lorkin’s abduction, I haven’t had a chance to tell him that Dannyl is in the midst of tracking Lorkin down right now.

When they arrived at their destination, a man had walked up to them and told them their host was waiting for them – just knock on the last door to the left down that alleyway. They’d entered the old butchery building, whose owner had been forced to move his business away when the area had grown more prosperous and finicky about its neighbours. It was used as a storehouse.

The sun was setting when we arrived. I was worried we were too late. I needn’t have rushed.

They’d been ushered into a surprisingly well-furnished room. An extraordinary-looking man had risen from one of the expensive chairs to bow to them. He was dark like a Lonmar, but with a distinct reddish tone to his skin, and strange, elongated eyes that put her in mind of drawings of the dangerous predatory animals that roamed the mountains.

He had no accent, however. He introduced himself as Skellin and offered them a drink. They’d declined. She assumed Regin was as reluctant to muddle his senses before a possible magical confrontation as she was.

Maybe I should have had that drink.

Skellin was clearly excited to meet them. When he had finally stopped exclaiming about being in the presence of real magicians –and the famous Black Magician Sonea herself, he told them of his history. He and his mother had left their homeland – a land far to the north – when he was a child. Faren, the Thief she had once agreed to use magic for in exchange for hiding her from the Guild, had raised him to be his heir. He remembered little of his homeland, and considered himself a Kyralian.

Sonea had begun to warm to him at this point, though she hadn’t forgotten that he was an importer of roet. Cery had arrived at last and Skellin grew serious. He explained his trap. The rogue, he had learned, worked for a roet seller who bought his supply from a worker in this building. They were due to pick up some more. But the timing was never sure. Sometimes they dropped by early in the evening, sometimes late. Skellin had men ready to tell him when she and the seller arrived. They had only to wait.

And wait we have, she thought. For hours and hours. All I want to do is get back to Osen and find out if Dannyl has caught up with Lorkin yet.

Instead, she and Regin had been urged to tell stories about the Guild. Skellin knew how she had become a magician, but not how Regin had come to join the Guild. Even though Regin’s story was hardly exciting or unusual, it clearly intrigued Skellin. He then wanted to know how their learning in the University was structured. Of the rules that they had to follow. Of the disciplines and what they involved.

It grew less pleasant when he urged them to describe the Ichani Invasion. “You must have amazing tales to tell,” the Thief had said, grinning. “I wasn’t there, of course. My mother and I hadn’t arrived in the country yet.”

Regin had saved her from revisiting the more painful time in her past by taking over the storytelling at that point. She wondered if he had guessed how difficult it would be for her. Either way, she felt even more gratitude toward him.

That’s three things I have to thank him for tonight, she thought. The cart, the coats and saving me from reliving some unpleasant memories. I had better …

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Skellin called out, and a lean man in black clothes opened the door.

“They’re here,” the man said, then backed out of the room again.

Sonea sighed with relief as quietly as she could manage. They all rose to their feet. Skellin looked at them in turn.

“Leave your coats here, if you wish. Nobody but my people and the rogue will see you.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing those famous powers of yours at work. Follow me.”

They filed through another door into a long corridor. Windows at the far end glowed faintly.

It’s nearly dawn. We’ve been up all night! She felt a stab of apprehension. Has Dannyl found Lorkin yet? What if Osen sent someone to get me and they discovered I’m missing? Even if he hasn’t, my allies at the hospice will have found it hard to stop the new Healer from looking for me to ask yet more questions.

Someone must have noticed my absence by now.

But if they had, it would not matter. When she and Regin returned to the Guild with the rogue there would be no more concealing her venturing outside of the hospices. If Rothen was right, nobody would care. Everybody’s attention would be on the discovery that a magician who not only wasn’t a member of the Guild but had actively been working for criminals had been living in the city.

If he was wrong, things were going to get very unpleasant for both of them.