The Ambassador’s Mission: Book One of the Traitor Spy Trilogy (39 page)

“Seven! I know it’s more a city man’s viewpoint, but it seems a touch irresponsible,” Achati said to Dannyl quietly when they retired to the guest rooms after dinner. “Only one can inherit. He must find occupation for the rest. The daughters will be married as best can be arranged, of course. But the sons …” He sighed. “Landless and dependent on their brother, as will be their sons – if they can attract wives at all.” He shook his head. “This is how Ichani come to be.”

“They rebel against their brothers?”

“Against the whole country. It is better that younger sons are not trained in magic, but it is rare for a parent who loves his child to withhold that knowledge, since it means the younger son will have such low status.”

“Younger sons are more likely to become magicians in Kyralia,” Dannyl told him. “Magicians are not supposed to involve themselves in politics, and it’s considered better if the son destined to become the head of the family is the one with political influence.”

Achati nodded thoughtfully. “I think I like your way better. It gives power to both older and younger sons.”

They spent the next day riding around Tanucha’s estate, and the evening in eating and talking. Afterwards Achati and Dannyl chatted late into the night. The next day they slept late, then explored Tanucha’s library, which was disappointingly small and neglected. Though the rest was welcome, Dannyl could not relax. When they retired to the guest rooms for the second night he asked Achati when they would be moving on.

“That depends on the Traitors, doesn’t it?” Achati replied as he reclined on the pillows in the central room.

“Surely we’re not going to wait around for them to deliver Lorkin and Tyvara to us?” Dannyl said, sitting down on one of the stools. He could not get used to lying about on the floor as the Sachakans did.

“Why not? If we keep moving they may not know where to find us. Or we may end up travelling in the wrong direction – away from those who are bringing them to us.”

Dannyl frowned. “I’m not sure why, but I can’t picture these Traitors turning up at the front gate of Tanucha’s estate with Lorkin and Tyvara in chains. They wouldn’t reveal themselves like that.”

“Then how do you think they’ll do it?”

Dannyl considered. “If I were them … I’d lead us to Lorkin and Tyvara. I’d leave us clues or directions – as they have already – so that we will eventually cross paths with the pair.”

“Have they left us any clues or directions lately?”

“No,” Dannyl admitted. “But they haven’t told us to stay put, either.”

Achati laughed. “I am growing very fond of you, Ambassador Dannyl. You have a unique mind.” He turned to one of his slaves, a handsome young man who attended to most of his needs, while the other slave’s role appeared to be to do heavy work and drive the carriage. “Get us some more water, Varn.” The slave picked up a pitcher and hurried away.

“Of course, telling us that they want us to find Lorkin could still be a decoy,” Dannyl said.

“So if it was, then where would we go next?”

Dannyl shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. If the Traitors did want the girl and Lorkin to evade us, where would they take them?”

“To their mountain home.”

“And which direction has the pair been heading?”

“The mountains.”

“Presumably they are ahead of us.” Dannyl looked up at Achati. “That is the direction I would go.”

Achati nodded, then raised an eyebrow in warning. “We don’t know where their home is,” he reminded Dannyl. “Only that it is in the mountains.”

“I haven’t forgotten that. Have you ever used trackers?”

“Occasionally. When we had a confirmed Traitor to follow.”

“And it failed because?”

“The tracks always stop.” Achati shrugged. “The Traitors are not fools. They know how to erase signs of their passing. Which is not hard when your land is mostly bare rock and you can levitate.”

Dannyl frowned, then shook his head. “If the Traitors wanted us to stop and stay put, or change direction, they’d have let us know.”

“This whole journey and all the clues we’ve followed could have been a ruse,” Achati pointed out. “Designed to keep us busy and heading in the wrong direction.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if we keep going. They’ve already made fools of us. But if there’s a chance they haven’t, and we’re on the right track, then I’m willing to risk being made a slightly bigger fool by continuing toward the mountains. It’s worth it, for the chance we’ll find Lorkin.”

Achati regarded Dannyl thoughtfully, then nodded. The slave returned and handed him the pitcher. “Then we’ll leave. Will the morning be soon enough?” He refilled his goblet but paused to wait for Dannyl’s answer.

Dannyl looked at the man, noting signs of reluctance.
I shouldn’t push him too far
, he thought. He nodded. “Of course. But early in the morning would be best.”

Achati sighed, nodded, then drained his goblet. “I’ll send a slave to inform Tanucha we’ll be moving on, and request some supplies for the journey. There are fewer estates out by the mountains, and they don’t tend to be that prosperous. We’ll also need some magical support. I’ll contact the king and ask him to send some locals to help us.” With a grunt, he rose to his feet. “Don’t wait for me. Go to bed. This could take some time.”

Magical support. Contacting the king.
Dannyl felt a twinge of apprehension.
He really does think these Traitors are dangerous.

“Ashaki Achati?” Dannyl said.

The man turned to look back at him. “Yes?”

Dannyl smiled. “Thank you.”

Achati’s frown disappeared and his eyes warmed with good humour. “I think I could get to like Kyralian ideas of manners.” Then he turned and disappeared through the door to his room.

Lorkin opened his eyes. The sky was streaked with orange clouds. He frowned. He’d been dreaming, but he couldn’t remember anything of the dream. Something had woken him. He had that unpleasant, disorienting feeling of being disturbed. Of being wrenched awake before he was ready.

He felt something move against him, and his heart was suddenly pounding.

Lifting his head he saw that Tyvara had fallen asleep. Sitting up against the wall of the old ruin, she had sagged sideways against a protruding stone, and bent her right leg instinctively to avoid toppling sideways. Her knee had come to rest on his arm.

Her skin was wonderfully warm – a stark contrast to the cold ground beneath him and the growing chill of approaching night. Though Sachaka was warm during the day, the evenings could be surprisingly cold.

What should I do? If I move she’ll wake up. But she’s supposed to be keeping watch, and it’s nearly time for us to head off anyway.
She needed the sleep, though. She’d been taking longer shifts keeping watch at night, despite him arguing that she could trust him to share the burden. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he could Heal away the weariness. It would be insensitive, considering what his father had promised the Traitors, then failed to deliver.

The cold air told him that she had also let fall the magical shield protecting them, so he put up one of his own, then warmed the air inside it. Keeping still so he didn’t disturb her, he watched her sleeping. The dark circles under her eyes and the little frown creasing her forehead bothered him. But being able to look at her closely without disturbing or embarrassing her … he could appreciate the feminine curve of her jaw and the exotic tilt of her eyes, the curve of her lips …

Which twitched, and he quickly looked away.

He felt her hastily throw up a shield as she woke up and realised she’d dropped hers, so he drew his own in to surround himself. Listening to her draw in a deep breath, then yawn, he considered the ruins they were hiding within. Though Tyvara had been here before, she didn’t know anything about their history. High on a rocky hill, they overlooked the intersection of the road they had been following where it met another. As the sun had risen, just after they’d arrived, he’d been able to pick out details of the mountains, which before had been only a hazy, uneven line of blue-grey at the horizon. Below them was mostly level farmland, broken here and there by plantations of trees or game forests, and criss-crossed by low walls.

“How far away are we?” he had asked.

“Three or four more nights walking to the foothills, then several more to climb into the mountains.”

Now he looked at the area surrounding the hill, checking for signs of life.

“Mind if I have a look around?” he asked as Tyvara rose to her feet and stretched.

She looked up at the sky, which was now a deep scarlet, but the night was not quite dark enough for continuing their trek. “Go ahead. Just keep out of sight of the road.”

“I will.”

They’d sheltered within an open square of walls. He rose and headed for one of the gaps, intending to have a closer look at the outside of the building.

A woman stepped into the gap.

He skidded to a halt. The woman was dressed as a slave, but her demeanour was all wrong. She was smiling at him, but the smile was not friendly. She took a step toward him, her eyes narrowing. Instinctively, he strengthened his shield.

His instinct proved correct. The woman’s nose wrinkled with concentration, and his shield vibrated violently as magic battered it. The air between them shimmered. He backed away.

The woman’s stare was cold and intent. He had no doubt she meant to kill him. Fear set his heart pounding. He felt a growing urge to run.
Which would be sensible
, he thought.
She’s got to be a Traitor, which means she’s a black magician, which means she’s a lot stronger than me.

But before he had even finished that thought, Tyvara stepped past him. The woman’s gaze shifted to her. He felt a giddy rush of relief. Tyvara stopped a step in front of him and he felt her shield envelop his own. Though the battering stopped, he kept his shield strong within hers, in case her own faltered.

“Stop this, Rasha,” Tyvara said.

“Only if
you
do,” the woman replied.

“Do you swear you will not strike at me or Lorkin?”

“I swear I will not strike you. But he,” the woman’s gaze shifted back to him, “must die.”

Lorkin shivered. But he also noted that the woman had stopped striking at Tyvara.

“The queen ordered that he was not to be killed.”

“She has no right to tell us we cannot have our revenge,” Rasha hissed.

“Ishira was the first to die.”

The woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “First or last, what does it matter?”

“She was my playmate. Do you think I didn’t miss her? Do you think I didn’t grieve?”

“
You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child!
” the woman shouted.

“No,” Tyvara replied, an edge to her voice. “But I would consider the queen an example of how to live with the loss, not those who would murder someone else’s child for their parent’s mistakes or crimes.”

Rasha stared at Tyvara, her face a mask of hatred. “Not everyone can be so forgiving. Not of that. And not of you murdering one of your own people.” The woman’s eyes gleamed. “You’re wasting your strength protecting him. Let me have him.”

“Once you kill him, what will you do with me?” Tyvara sounded remarkably calm, Lorkin noted. But she stood braced as if she expected another attack any moment.
She’s trying to keep the woman talking. Well, I
hope
she is. She could also be about to start bartering my life for her own.

“You’re coming back to Sanctuary with me. All Traitors need to know that the queen would rather one of our own died than the son of the man who killed her daughter.”

“Actually, the queen would rather people obeyed her orders. Then nobody would get killed,” a high voice said. “It’s quite a reasonable order, and good for everybody.”

Rasha stepped to the side and turned in one movement. Another woman dressed as a slave stood within the gap, leaning against the wall in a deliberately nonchalant pose.

“Chari,” Tyvara said, relief and warmth in her voice.

The newcomer gave them all a cheerful smile, then stepped into the building with all the poise of a young Kyralian woman making a grand entrance at a ball or party.

“I have fresh, shiny orders from the queen,” she told them. “Lord Lorkin is not to be harmed. Tyvara is to be brought to Sanctuary to be put on trial for the murder of Riva.” She turned to Rasha. “Since I outrank you, this little task falls to me. You had better run along, before your master realises you’re gone and sends a whipping party after you.”

Rasha stared at Chari for a moment, then she hissed and stalked through the gap in the wall. The snap and crack of the woman pushing through the spiny bushes covering the hill could be clearly heard.

Chari turned to regard Tyvara. “You’re in
so
much trouble.”

Tyvara smiled. “Thanks for stepping in. How’d you know where we were?”

The young woman shrugged. “I didn’t. I was keeping an eye out for you, of course, but I didn’t think you’d come here. It’s the most obvious hiding place in this area. What were you thinking?”

Tyvara shrugged. “I don’t know.” She rubbed her face, her weariness suddenly plain to see. “We’d done so well … I thought maybe people were assuming we wouldn’t head for Sanctuary.”

Chari shook her head. “It’s just as well I was keeping an eye on Rasha. She’s head watcher at the estate next to mine and she’s been sweating on catching you. When I heard she’d gathered together a group and was heading out to get you I slipped away and followed.”

“A group?” Tyvara frowned. “Where are the others?”

“Fortunately for you, she told them to wait so she could go on ahead and knock off your new friend here.” Chari glanced at Lorkin and smiled. “I got to them first and told them to go home.”

“I outrank you,”
Lorkin recalled her saying to Rasha.
She’s obviously a fairly powerful Traitor. And if they have ranks then they aren’t as equal as Tyvara says.

“Well … thank you for that.” Tyvara paused. “So what are
you
going to do with us?”

Chari did not answer. She looked down, pursed her lips and walked a few steps closer. She stopped a few steps away, then looked at Tyvara searchingly. “Is it true?”