The Rogue (49 page)

Ashaki.

He stopped, but it was too late. The man had seen him. Lorkin’s heart began to race. Should he throw himself to the ground and hope the man thought he was a slave? But a hunter wouldn’t do that.

“You’re not Chatiko,” the man said, stopping. He came closer, bending forward as he stared at Lorkin. “I know you. I’ve seen you before.” His eyes widened with realisation and surprise. “You’re that Kyralian magician! The one who went missing!”

There was no point pretending otherwise. Tyvara’s words rose in his memory.

“
If you do, tell them who you are and request to be taken back to the Guild House. They’ll be politically obliged to help you.
”

“I am Lord Lorkin of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia,” he said. “I formally request that you return me to the Guild House in Arvice.”

The man smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, it’s your lucky day. We’re heading that way ourselves. We were going to wait until the weather cleared, but Master Vokiro insisted we leave at first light. I am Master Akami.”

Lorkin searched for something to say.
Two of them are Masters. They aren’t as highly ranked as Ashaki. That could be to my advantage.
He managed a smile. “Thank you, Master Akami.”

The Sachakan gave Lorkin a familiar amused look at his Kyralian manners, then gestured back down the road. “The carriage is this way. Master Chatiko stopped to relieve himself.” Lorkin fell into step beside the man. “He was taking so long I went looking for him. See how lucky you are? We could have driven by and not seen you. Ah! He’s back.”

Another man stood by the carriage. As he saw Lorkin, his gaze moved from Lorkin’s head to his feet, an expression of puzzlement and distaste on his face.

“Look what I found,” Master Akami declared. “A lost Kyralian magician! And I bet he has some tales to tell. He’ll keep us entertained all the way back to the city!”

No sooner had the trunks been hauled onto the deck of the
Inava
than the anchor was pulled up and sails unfurled. Dannyl, Tayend and Achati were ushered to the one place on deck where they were out of the way of the captain and his slave crew.

Achati looked at Dannyl.

“So, are you content with what you learned here, Ambassador?”

Dannyl nodded. “Yes, though I would like to return and record more of these Duna legends. I asked to hear the ones about magic, but there would be plenty more that aren’t. I guess that’s a book for someone else to write.”

Achati nodded. “Perhaps your assistant might write such a book. She seems very interested in the tribes.”

Dannyl felt a small pang of guilt for leaving Merria behind.
But someone had to remain at the Guild House
. “Yes, she is.”

“And what about you, Ambassador Tayend?” Achati said, turning to the Elyne.

Tayend waved a hand in a vague gesture that might have meant many things. He looked a little pale, Dannyl noted.

“Have you taken the seasickness cure?” Achati asked.

“Not yet,” Tayend admitted. “I did not want to miss our last sight of …” He gulped and waved a hand at the valley. “I’ll take it once we leave the bay.”

Achati frowned with concern. “There will be some delay before it takes effect, and it won’t have a chance to if you can’t keep it down.”

“Ashaki Achati,” the captain called.

They all turned to see the man pointing out over the northern arm of the bay, his eyes bright and a grim smile on his face. Black clouds darkened the sky, and the horizon was invisible behind streaks of rain.

Achati chuckled. “A storm is coming.” He took a step toward the captain. “I will give you my assistance.”

The man’s eyebrows lowered. “You have experience?”

Achati grinned. “Plenty.”

The man nodded and smiled again. As Achati turned away, his eyes shone with excitement. Dannyl’s skin pricked.

“We’re not turning back?” Tayend asked, with an edge of panic to his voice.

“No,” Achati replied. “You’d best take that cure now.”

“You and the captain are pleased about this, aren’t you?” Dannyl asked as the Elyne hurried away.

Achati nodded. “We are. Storms are common at this time. We’ve been taking advantage of them for centuries. Any Ashaki who travels by ship – any who value their life, that is – learns how to ride them. With magic to hold the ship together and an experienced captain to steer it, you can sail from Duna to Arvice in a few days.”

As if to emphasise the point, a blast of wind battered the ship as it emerged from the protection of the bay. Dannyl and Achati caught hold of the rail to steady themselves.

“Can I offer any assistance?” Dannyl asked. He had to shout to be heard over the wind.

Achati’s laugh held a hint of both affection and scorn. “Don’t worry. The king will ensure that what magic I and the captain use will be replaced.”

In other words, only a higher magician has the strength for this.

It had never been so obvious to Dannyl that he was no black magician. Oddly, that made him reluctant to slink away to the protection of his cabin.

“I’ll stay and watch, then,” he said.

“Later,” Achati said, shaking his head. “Seasickness cures can only do so much. Tayend is going to need your help.”

Dannyl met the Sachakan’s eyes. He saw concern there. Sighing, Dannyl nodded in agreement and set off after the Elyne Ambassador.

As Sonea neared the end of the corridor, she saw, through the University entry hall, a carriage pull up. In the brief time the vehicle’s window was visible, she glimpsed a familiar face.

Dorrien.

She cursed under her breath. If she crossed the hall he would see her and want to talk. She was in no mood for such an encounter, rife with unspoken questions, guilt and desire. The dread that had settled on her during the Hearing had kept her on edge all day.

So she turned and moved back down the corridor again, slipping into the nearest empty classroom. The novices were long gone. The lines of tables and chairs brought back memories, both pleasant and unpleasant.

Or would it be more accurate to say
tolerable
and unpleasant? While I did enjoy learning magic, I didn’t have much fun doing it alongside my fellow novices, even when they weren’t making life difficult, snubbing me or, in Regin’s case, finding new and increasingly humiliating and painful ways to torment me.

After she had been accepted back into the Guild, completing her training had been difficult, the lessons having to be taught without any teacher communicating more complicated concepts mind to mind. She’d managed it, despite that. And the grief of Akkarin’s death. And being pregnant with Lorkin.

Regin has turned out all right
, she found herself thinking. She smiled wryly.
I never thought I’d think that. Or miss him.

Which she did, in a way. It had been better, during the initial search, having a helper who wasn’t besotted with her. Things had become much too complicated with Dorrien. She wished they could hurry up and find Skellin and Lorandra. Or that Dorrien’s daughter could join the Guild sooner, so that he and Alina could return to the country.

I guess this means I’m not in love with him
, she realised.
Perhaps I might have been, if there weren’t so many factors spoiling everything. Or maybe … maybe if it
were
love then those things wouldn’t be able to spoil it. People have affairs all the time, it seems. The idea of betraying a spouse or causing a scandal isn’t enough to deter them.

She sighed and moved to the classroom door. Dorrien should have passed through the hall by now. She paused as she heard voices and footsteps approaching, not wanting to be seen hiding.

“...
this
convinced you that you need to stop taking roet?” a woman’s voice asked.

The voice was familiar. Even as she realised it was Lady Vinara’s, she heard another voice reply and felt a shock of recognition.

“I am convinced, but this may not be the best time,” Black Magician Kallen replied as they passed the classroom. “I don’t need to be distracted by—”

“There is
never
a good time,” Vinara replied. “Do you think I don’t hear this every day from …?”

The Healer’s voice faded out of hearing. The pair were striding quickly toward the entry hall, on the way to Osen’s office. As Sonea had been.

She counted to fifty, then stepped out and continued on her way. Triumph and worry mingled as she considered what she had overheard. Triumph that she had been right: Kallen’s use of roet
was
a problem. Worry that she was right: Kallen’s use of roet was a
problem
. Which, because he was a black magician, made it her problem, too.

The door to Osen’s office was swinging shut as she arrived, so she pushed through into the room. Rothen was there already. She smiled at him as she passed. The Heads of Disciplines were in their usual trio of chairs. Kallen stood by the wall. The Administrator was seated. He met her eyes and they exchanged a nod, then she took her usual place, standing to one side of his desk.

The few missing Higher Magicians arrived soon after, and Osen began the meeting by explaining what had happened before the Hearing – Dannyl’s information, summoning Kallen, Naki, Sonea and Lilia, and what Kallen saw in Naki’s mind once her ring was removed.

“The king has not granted Naki a pardon,” Osen told them, when he was finished.

Silence followed that announcement. Sonea examined the faces of the magicians. Some were nodding and unsurprised. Others looked shocked. Rothen was watching her, his expression sympathetic and troubled. She felt her stomach sink and her mouth went dry.

What will I do if they ask me to perform the execution?
She had already decided that she would not protest if they ordered it, but if they gave her the opportunity to avoid it, she would.
There is no right decision in this case. Either I do it and have another death on my hands, or I refuse and force another to take on that burden.

The other would most likely be Kallen. He had never killed anyone before – certainly not with black magic, and if Naki was to die without her magic being loosed then her powers would need to be drained beforehand. Naki was no invader; she was a young woman and Kyralian. Despite Sonea’s dislike of Kallen, she would not wish the burden of such an execution on him.

If I do it, people will see me in a different way. Ruthless and cold. If I turn from that duty, they’ll see me as disloyal and cowardly. They’ll—

“I have discussed this with Black Magician Kallen and High Lord Balkan,” Osen said. “Kallen will remove Naki’s power, Balkan will apply the penalty.”

Sonea blinked in surprise even as she felt relief flood through her. Exhaled breaths combined to create a soft hiss in the room.

“The king has agreed that it should not be a public execution,” Osen continued. “Despite the deterrent effect one might have.” There were nods of agreement all around. “It will occur later tonight. The existence of these gemstones that block a mind-read must remain a secret,” Osen added firmly. “The knowledge of them must not extend beyond us here. The Sachakans are not aware of them and if they learn of this kind of magic the consequences could be disastrous.”

He took time to meet the eyes of every magician, until he’d had a nod or murmur of understanding from them all; then he relaxed and invited questions. Sonea did not hear what was asked, too caught up in her own relief.

She realised belatedly the sense behind Osen’s decision: Balkan, as High Lord, was the Guild’s leader and trained as a Warrior, so it was fitting he should enforce the law. She and Kallen had been accepted as black magicians only so that they could defend the Guild against invasion. Kallen’s removal of Naki’s power was a practical measure, little different to what he and Sonea did for dying magicians to ensure they passed away without their remaining magic causing any destruction.

A foolish anxiety slipped into Sonea’s mind.
Did they think I couldn’t or wouldn’t do it? Did they think I couldn’t be trusted?

Oh, be quiet
, she told herself.

The meeting finished soon after. Rothen joined Sonea as she left the office.

“Going to the hospice tonight?” he asked.

They walked into the entrance hall and stopped at the open doors of the University. They both gazed out at the forest, which was dusted in snow.

“I don’t know,” Sonea replied. “I didn’t sleep today. I could go back to my rooms, but that won’t achieve anything. I could go to the hospice, but I suspect I’ll be … a bit too distracted.”

He hummed. “I think we’ll all be, until the deed is done.”

“And for some time after. How long has it been since the Guild had to execute a member – or former one?”

He shrugged. “A long time. Long enough I’d have to look it up in a history book.”

Sonea glanced behind them. The entry hall was empty, the Higher Magicians having all left now.

“I admit that I’m relieved at their choice of executioners,” she murmured. “Though it will still be hard on Kallen to be there and take part. He’s never … he’s inexperienced.”

“Many feel they have asked a lot of you already,” Rothen replied quietly. “They feel guilty about Lorkin.”

She turned to meet his gaze.
They
should
feel guilty about sending Lorkin off to Sachaka
, she thought triumphantly, but not without bitterness. Rothen’s eyes were steady and hinted at more. She wondered how often the Higher Magicians discussed her.

“Is this why they haven’t expelled Lorkin from the Guild officially yet?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Or is it they’re afraid of what I’d say and do if they did?”

Rothen chuckled. “That, too.” His expression became serious. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you some sad news – about someone else, not Lorkin.”

“What is it?”

“Regin’s wife tried to kill herself.”

“Oh! That’s terrible.”

“Apparently she’s been attempting to for years. This is the first time it’s been, well, unavoidably public. There had been rumours, but …” Rothen grimaced. “I didn’t like to pay much attention to them.”