The Rogue

“Black Magician Sonea,” came a voice from the door.

Sonea turned to see the captain peering in.

“Yes?”

“Someone here to see you. It’s … important.”

Rising, Sonea walked to the door. As the captain unlocked it she looked back at Lorandra. The woman stared at her for a moment, then looked back down at her work. The tube had grown considerably during their conversation, Sonea noted.

She found one of Black Magician Kallen’s associates waiting. One of the magicians who had once tracked her movements, she noted. She tried not to radiate instant dislike, not the least because he looked alarmed and upset.

“Forgive the intrusion, Black Magician Sonea,” he said. “But there has been a murder. A magician. In the city. Black Magician Kallen is already there. You are to meet him.”

She drew in a sharp breath. The murder of a magician was alarming enough, but Kallen’s involvement and her summoning meant only one thing.

The victim must have been killed with black magic.

Dannyl sighed, leaned back in his chair and looked around his office. Being able to rest against the supportive back of a chair was a simple comfort that reminded him of home. The desk before him was also an object of Kyralian practicality and functionality that he hadn’t seen in Sachakan homes. If it weren’t for the curved walls, he could have imagined himself back in Imardin.

Perhaps chairs and desks existed in Sachakan homes, in the personal rooms he hadn’t seen. Maybe Sachakans had even better furniture for work and study. If they have, they haven’t bothered to supply the Guild House with them. This will do me just fine.

Before him were his notes and the books he’d bought at the market. He’d just written a list of what he’d learned since arriving in Sachaka, and he was feeling quite pleased with himself.

The first item was “Proof that Imardin wasn’t destroyed in the Sachakan War”, which he’d found in records in an Ashaki’s library not long after arriving in Arvice. Below that he’d written “The existence of the storestone”, which Lorkin had found in the same collection of records.

Between this and the next set of items he’d squeezed in “That the Duna tribesmen knew (and perhaps still do) how to make magical gemstones. That these gemstones are made (not natural). That the Traitors stole the knowledge from them”. All this he’d learned from Unh, the tribesman who had tracked Lorkin and his Traitor abductors.

Next was a longer set of observations from the records he’d bought.

That Narvelan, the leader of the Kyralians ruling Sachaka, had owned a slave, was considered crazy, stole the storestone, and used it to create the wasteland either deliberately or in a confrontation between himself and his Kyralian pursuers.

That the threat of using the storestone most likely kept the stronger force of surviving Sachakan magicians under control, and once it was removed Kyralia was forced to return the country to Sachakan rule.

That the wasteland appeared, at first, to begin recovering, then failed as the area began to grow instead.

It was a good list, Dannyl decided. It was only frustration at making no progress recently that made it seem like he hadn’t achieved anything here. However, there were still questions to be answered.

Leaning forward, Dannyl began to write a list of what he still wanted to find.

“Proof I can take home with me that Imardin wasn’t destroyed in the Sachakan War.” Achati seemed to prefer that Dannyl didn’t buy Sachakan records, but maybe he wouldn’t mind the occasional purchase. If Dannyl was to convince anyone of his theory that Imardin had been destroyed later, he would need to have a document to show them.

“Proof that the mad apprentice destroyed Imardin.” Dannyl didn’t think he’d find this in Sachaka, however.

“Where did the storestone come from? How was it made? Was it made, or natural? Do any still exist? Does anybody know how to make them?”

Dannyl could not help wondering if Lorkin knew the answers to these questions. The Traitors had stolen the secret of making magical gemstones from the Duna. If anyone other than the Duna knew the answers, the Traitors did.

Dannyl winced as he remembered the Sachakan king’s request that he establish communications with Lorkin. He’d asked Merria, his assistant, to investigate if she stumbled upon any information. But who are we supposed to enquire of? The Ashaki no longer invite me to dinner and I never took her with me anyway. I doubt the slaves have any way of reaching Lorkin other than through the Traitors.

He considered his lists again. The idea behind writing them was to give him a clear idea of what he was looking for while visiting the Duna tribes or Sachakan country estates. While he had answered some questions he’d had about history, it was always better to have several sources to quote from when claiming that an event happened or went a certain way, so he would still have to look for references to Imardin surviving the Sachakan War and Narvelan stealing the storestone. As for information about storestones, he had only one source to draw upon: the Duna. He couldn’t ask the Traitors, so he had to rely on Lorkin recording what they knew and eventually getting the information to him.

The only worry he had about the coming journey was how the Duna would react to him and his questions. Unh had been friendly, but the tribesmen in the market had reacted badly to his mention of Unh. But they were friendly before then. Maybe if I don’t mention him …

“Ambassador Dannyl?”

He looked up. The voice was Merria’s and came from the main room.

“Come in, Lady Merria,” he called. Footsteps drew closer and she stepped into the doorway of his office. He beckoned, gesturing for her to sit on the chair for visitors. “How are you doing?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Fine. I imagined there’d be a lot more paperwork and not very much interaction with the people, due to their customs in regard to women. It’s been very much the opposite.”

“You’ve been seeing a lot of the women Ashaki Achati introduced you to?”

“Yes, and their friends. They have quite a network. They never meet all at once, of course. The men would think they were forming a secret rebel society.” Her smile told him how much this amused her. “You’d think having all these women passing on messages to each other would make them suspicious, but …” She shrugged. “Maybe they don’t notice.”

Dannyl nodded. “I haven’t heard anything about it. Do you think they’re organising anything?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so, except that a few days after I commented that Lorkin’s mother would like to hear from him I got a message saying he is in the Traitor city and is fine. I was also invited to send him a message in return.”

Dannyl’s heart skipped. “Where is this message they gave you?”

Merria shook her head. “It was verbal. The women never write anything down.”

He considered what she had told him. “Do you think this came through the Traitors?”

She nodded. “I can’t see how else such messages would get to him, if he’s in the Traitor city and only Traitors ever go there. Unless there are spies among the spies.”

“It’s possible.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s more likely the women only say they hate the Traitors so that the men let them see each other.”

Dannyl nodded in agreement. “Don’t say that to anyone else,” he advised.

Any sort of communication with Lorkin was better than none. Though King Amakira had told him to contact Lorkin some other way than through the Traitors, Dannyl did not want to lose this opportunity. He had plenty of