The Rogue

dispel the rumour.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she told them. “Naki doesn’t like her father. Why would she trust him to know that about her? More likely the servant was thrown out for another reason; made up a story to make Naki look bad.”

Froje and Madie looked thoughtful. They exchanged another look, this time doubtful. Then Madie smiled and turned to Lilia.

“Well, you’re probably right. You know her personally; we only know the stories.” She frowned. “But even if it’s not true, we are still worried about you. People are going to talk.”

Lilia shrugged. “Let them. They’ll get tired of it eventually. Why should Naki have no friends because of nasty rumour?”

She turned and started toward the door. The two girls hesitated, then Lilia heard them following. She also heard a fainter sound. A quick whisper.

“Why are you bothering? We’re not good enough for her now.”

Lilia continued out into the corridor, pretending she hadn’t heard, but she felt a bitter triumph. I’m right. They’re jealous. Yet she also had to hide a pang of guilt as the girls joined her. It was true. Naki was a more interesting and exciting friend than they had ever been, even when they weren’t distracted by the boys.

Especially if what they say about her is true.

She didn’t want to think about that now. Not because she feared the stories might be true, but because she feared that her friends would somehow sense the simmering excitement that their warning had stirred deep within her. And because of the inevitable questions the feeling led to.

What if it is true of me, as well?

All she knew for certain was that she did not feel the distaste she ought to, and that was something she would never be able to tell her friends – or anybody else. Perhaps not even Naki.

As the Guild’s carriage rolled through the streets of Arvice, Dannyl noted that Lady Merria was drinking in the sights with hungry eyes. Though she had only arrived ten days ago, she was already feeling the boredom of being stuck in the Guild House most of the time.

Or perhaps she is merely fascinated by a new place, Dannyl mused. It could be that I’m the only one feeling stuck.

Either way, she had been thrilled at the idea of visiting the market. Tayend had suggested it the previous night, before he’d headed off for another evening of fine food and company with one Ashaki or another. Dannyl hadn’t yet seen the market, since anything he required was always quickly brought to the Guild House by slaves, so the visit was merely for entertainment – and perhaps education, too. Maybe he’d learn something about Sachaka, and of the lands it traded with in the east.

“How did your visit with the women Achati recommended go?” Dannyl asked.

Merria glanced at him and smiled. “Good, I think. They all believe that the husband of one of the widows was killed by the Traitors, and yet only the widow displays any convincing hatred. I suspect that there’s more to it than they’re saying. One of the others hinted to me that she whined so much about him that the Traitors thought she was serious about wanting to be free of him.”

“So either the Traitors made a mistake, or she tricked them, or something else has forced her to claim to hate them to protect herself.”

Merria gave him a thoughtful look. “I really need to train myself to see all the complicated twisted possibilities in these situations, don’t I?”

He shrugged. “It never hurts. It’s also wise to not get too attached to anyone.”

She nodded and looked back out of the window, thankfully missing Dannyl’s wince as he realised the truth of his own words.

I shouldn’t get attached to Achati for the same reason. But who else is there to talk to? I do like him a great deal – and not just because he’s continued to associate with me even though I’ve become a social embarrassment here.

“Is that the market?” Merria asked.

Dannyl moved closer to the window on his side and peered at the road ahead. It ended where it met a crossroad. On the opposite side was a high white wall, broken by a plain archway through which a steady stream of people were passing. Those coming out were followed by slaves carrying boxes, baskets, sacks and rolled-up rugs. Both roads were lined with waiting carriages.

“I’d wager it is.”

Sure enough, the carriage swung in a wide turn at the meeting of roads so that it stopped before the archway. It was now the subject of much staring and pointing. Merria reached out to the carriage door, then paused and withdrew her hand.

“You had better go first, Ambassador,” she said.

He smiled grimly and waited for one of the slaves to clamber down and open the door. The man threw himself to the ground as Dannyl stepped out. A small crowd had gathered to watch, and a low murmur came from them as he appeared. But as Merria appeared, the sound rose to a louder hum of interest. She paused on the top step, frowning.

“Ignore them,” Dannyl advised, offering a hand. “Don’t meet anyone’s eyes.”

She lowered her gaze and took his offered hand for support, but stepped down with dignity. Dannyl resisted a smile. Merria had told him she was a ship captain’s daughter, which meant that while she hadn’t been raised in squalor or poverty she also hadn’t had the upbringing of a woman from the Houses. Yet she had studied the mannerisms and manners of those from the upper class when she joined the Guild, and learned to mimic them. Such a knack for adaptation would be very useful to her, both here and back in Imardin.

Dannyl released her hand, instructed the slave to move the carriage to an appropriate place out of the way of traffic to wait for them, then started toward the market entrance. The other slave leapt off the carriage to follow them.

Two guards watched the entrance, both eyeing Dannyl and Merria without expression.

They must be free servants, Dannyl thought. Like those at the palace.

Once through the archway he and Merria entered a market laid out in straight rows. The stalls on the outside, built against the walls, were permanent structures. The centre space was filled with neat lines of temporary carts and tables, most covered with a roof of cloth. He started along the first row.

Merria continued to be more interesting to the locals than Dannyl. Most likely they had never seen a Kyralian woman before, whereas Kyralian males were merely rare. He found that he was in the opposite position to Merria. He’d rarely seen Sachakan women before this. No women worked in the stalls, but plenty roamed the market, each with a male chaperone. They wore highly decorated capes that fell from their shoulders to their ankles.

He did not want to raise the ire of the locals by staring at their women, so he turned his attention to the wares on offer. Perfume, elaborate glassware, artistic pottery and fine cloth surrounded them. They had obviously entered at the luxury end of the market. Thinking back, he realised he hadn’t seen anyone carrying vegetables or herding animals out of the archway. When they reached the end of one aisle, he squinted down the rows ahead. Sure enough, there were more practical goods on sale at the far end. Perhaps there was another entrance catering for that sort of produce.

They started down another aisle, stopping to look at goods from lands across the Aduna Sea. Merria was particularly impressed with the glassware. In the third aisle they were both instantly drawn to a stall covered in a glittering array of gemstones in all colours. But while Merria gazed at the stones, what had caught Dannyl’s eye were the stallholders, as he instantly recognised the dusty grey skin and long limbs of Duna tribesmen.

At once he remembered the Duna tracker, Unh, who had helped him, Achati and the Ashaki helpers to search for Lorkin. He also recalled the cave he and Unh had discovered in the mountains, its walls covered in crystals. Dannyl had learned that the tribesmen knew how to turn such crystals into magical gemstones. He eyed the glittering stones before him thoughtfully.

Surely they wouldn’t sell the magical ones here. He looked closer. The abundance on display and the roughness of their cutting suggested that these weren’t of much value beyond ordinary