employer, had intended to hurt Cery they had succeeded. And they were going to pay for it. Which meant it was more important to find out who had killed his family, and why, than how they’d managed to discover and break into his rooms.
He took a few long, deep breaths. Gol had suggested the Thief Hunter might have killed them, but Cery dismissed the idea. The legendary vigilante did not target the families of Thieves, or kill them to hurt Thieves. He only killed Thieves.
A faint chiming reached his ears in a pattern he recognised, so he rose and moved to a tube protruding from the wall, and placed his ear to it. The voice that echoed within was distorted, but recognisable. Cery moved around the room pulling levers and turning knobs until a section of wall swivelled open. Gol stepped inside.
“How did it go?” Cery asked, moving back to his chair. Gol took the seat opposite and rubbed his hands together.
“There are rumours about already. Don’t know if one of our lot let it slip or the knife’s been boasting.” Cery nodded. Some assassins liked to own up to their high-profile targets, as it demonstrated how clever they were. “I doubt Anyi would say anything,” Gol added.
“She might, if she had to. Did you do the usual rounds?”
Gol nodded.
“So how is business?”
Leaning back in the chair, Cery listened as his bodyguard and friend related where he’d been and who he’d spoken to since venturing out early that morning. It took an effort to keep his mind on the man’s words, but Cery forced himself to concentrate. To his relief, business in his district appeared to be continuing as it always did. Gol hadn’t found any evidence that someone was taking advantage of Cery’s distraction yet.
“So,” Gol said. “What are you going to do now?”
Cery shrugged. “Nothing. Obviously somebody wants me to react in some way. I’m not going to oblige them. I’ll continue business as usual.”
Gol frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Cery managed a humourless smile.
“Oh, don’t think that I’m not fired about my family’s murder, Gol. I’ll have my revenge. But whoever broke into the hideout was clever and careful. Finding out who and why is going to take time.”
“Once we’ve got the knife we’ll find out who paid him,” Gol assured him.
“We’ll see. I’ve a hunch it will take more than that.”
Gol nodded, then frowned.
“Something else?” Cery asked.
The big man bit his lip, then sighed. “Well... you know how Neg thought that magic must have been used to break into your hideout?”
“Yes.” Cery frowned.
“Dern agrees with him. Said there was no sign of picking. That he’d put in some putty when he made the lock so he’d be able to tell.”
Dern was the lockmaker who had designed and installed the locking system on Cery’s hideout.
“Could it have been a very clever lock pick? Or even Dern himself?”
Gol shook his head. “He showed me a lever that would only turn if the lock was undone from the inside – inside the lock, that is – which could only be done with magic. I asked him why he bothered, and he said to protect himself. He won’t ever promise his locks are safe against magic, so he needs to prove that’s the cause if they’re ever broken into. I don’t know. It seems a bit far to go to. Could be he’s making it up to cover himself.”
He would question Dern himself, and inspect the lock, to be sure. But if it proved to be true then he had one clue to his family’s killer. A clue that, though disturbing, was a start, at least.
“I need to have a chat with our lockmaker.”
Gol nodded. “I’ll arrange it now.”
Perler smiled and nodded at Lorkin as he entered the room. Lord Maron, however, frowned.
“Thank you for agreeing to brief us at such short notice,” Lord Dannyl said. He gestured to the tables and chairs, the only furniture in the small University room Osen had arranged for the meeting, and they all sat down.
Maron’s attention shifted from Lorkin to Dannyl, then he smiled. “You must be confident that the Higher Magicians will grant Lorkin his request to accompany you to Sachaka,” he said. “And that Black Magician Sonea’s protest will fail.”
Dannyl chuckled. “Not completely confident. I never underestimate his mother’s influence, and there may be factors that will sway the other Higher Magicians that none of us know about. But if we wait for the decision before briefing Lorkin then he may leave under-informed – and that would be a mistake.”
“As will a replacement, if they decide Lorkin cannot go.”
Dannyl nodded in agreement. “I would have brought a possible replacement, but there have been no other volunteers.”
“Well, if that happens I will find another assistant, brief him for you and send him when he is ready,” Maron offered.
“That would be most appreciated,” Dannyl said, nodding in gratitude.
Lorkin kept his expression neutral. It was a little annoying being discussed as if he wasn’t there. Still, he could easily have been left out of the meeting, and he was grateful to Dannyl for including him.
“Now, where to start?” Maron said, opening a satchel and pulling out several sheets of paper. “These are the notes I compiled last night, to add to those of my predecessors. You have all the reports of the past Guild Ambassadors?”
“Yes. And I have read them all. It makes for fascinating reading.”
Maron chuckled wryly. “Sachaka is very different to Kyralia. And to all the other Allied Lands. The obvious differences stem from the common use of black magic, and from slavery, but there are subtle ones as well. How their women are regarded for instance. Though men are very protective of the women in their family, they regard all other women with suspicion and fear. They have a strange belief that women band together when away from men and plot all sorts of mischief. Some even believe there is a secret organisation or cult that steals women away from their families and alters their minds with magic in order to convince their victims of their ideas.”
“Do you think it’s true?” Lorkin asked.
Maron shrugged. “Most likely an exaggeration. A scary story to stop women gathering together to gossip and swap ideas on how to manipulate their men.” He chuckled, then sighed and looked sad. “The few I met were meek and lonely. I came to miss the company of educated, confident women, though I suspect I’ll get over that once I catch up with my sister.” He waved a hand. “But I’m digressing. The important thing to know is that you must not speak to women unless invited to.”
As the former Ambassador continued, Lorkin began to make notes in an unused leather-bound notebook left over from his novice days. Maron moved from the subject of women to marriage, family life and inheritance to the complex alliances and conflicts between the main Sachakan families, and finally to the protocols to follow in regard to the king.
“There used to be a Sachakan emperor,” Dannyl pointed out. “Now they have a king. I’ve only been able to narrow down that change to the first few hundred years after the Sachakan War. Do you know when the change happened, and why the Sachakans did not return to calling their leaders ‘emperor’ after they began to rule themselves again?”
“I’m afraid I never thought to question anyone about it,” Maron admitted. “I found it was best not to refer too openly to the fact that the Guild once ruled Sachaka. There is much resentment of it, though...” He paused and frowned. “I suspect it has more to do with the wasteland than the changes the Guild made – or failed to make to their society.”
“Do they know how the wasteland was created?” Dannyl asked.
Maron shook his head. “If they do, they never mentioned it to me. You’ll have to ask those questions
