The Ambassador's Mission

the room, carrying a large platter laden with food.

Sonea’s aunt and servant looked from her to Regin, then bowed politely. “Lord Regin.” She set the platter down, then glanced at Sonea and took a step back.

“Don’t leave for my sake.” Regin rose and turned to face Sonea. “I will return another time.” He inclined his head. “Thank you for hearing me out, Black Magician Sonea.”

“Good night, Lord Regin,” she replied.

Jonna stepped aside to allow him past. As the door closed behind him, the woman raised an eyebrow.

“Did I interrupt?” she asked.

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter.”

As her aunt arranged the covered dishes on the table, Sonea sighed and looked around the room.

When she had first seen inside the rooms in the Magicians’ Quarters, she had been impressed by how luxurious they were, but hadn’t noticed anything unusual about their size. She hadn’t known that they were small compared to the houses most higher-class men and women lived in. Each suite contained two to four rooms, depending on the size of the magician’s family, and the rooms were of a modest size.

Aside from the occasional complaint, most magicians were willing to live in such small quarters in order to reside within the Guild. They had adapted to the restrictions. They did not eat at a dining table, but instead meals were served on a low table set before the guest room chairs. The only exceptions were the formal meals of the Guild, served at a long dining table in the Banquet Room within a purpose-built building.

Though there was another exception – the small dining room in the High Lord’s Residence.

A memory flashed through her mind of that room, and flavours she hadn’t tasted in years. She found herself wondering, not for the first time, what had happened to Akkarin’s servant, Takan, the Sachakan ex-slave who had cooked such amazing meals. Nothing had been heard or seen of him since the invasion. She had always hoped he had survived.

Jonna sat down with a heavy sigh of relief. Sonea looked down at the cooling dishes on the table. It wasn’t an exotic meal, just the usual fare from the Guild kitchens. She frowned. It should have been Lorkin who had interrupted Regin.

“He’ll be here soon,” Jonna assured her, guessing the source of her worry. “He wouldn’t dare miss a meal with his mother.”

Sonea humphed. “He seems quite prepared to defy me and get himself killed in Sachaka. Why would a mere missed dinner bother him?”

“Because he’d have me to answer to as well,” Jonna replied.

Sonea met her aunt’s eyes and smiled. “You may as well go. I’ll only end up wearing your ears out.”

“My ears are robust enough. Besides, if he doesn’t come we can’t let all this food go to waste.”

“You know I’ll wait until well after it’s spoiled, so there’s no point the two of us staying hungry while we wait. Go. Ranek must be hungry.”

“He’s working late tonight and will eat over at the servants’ quarters.” Jonna rose and examined the bookshelves, then brought a rag out of her uniform and wiped a shelf.

There’s no budging her, Sonea thought. After coming to stay in the Guild in order to help Sonea through her pregnancy, birth and motherhood, Jonna and Ranek had settled in and found places as servants – Jonna as Sonea’s servant and Ranek among the robe-makers. Their two children had grown up here, had played with Lorkin and eventually gained well-paid places as servants in rich homes in the city. Jonna was well pleased with this. It was the best anyone of her class could hope for. Only by becoming a magician could someone born outside the Houses enter the country’s noble class.

A knock brought their attention to the door. Sonea drew in a deep breath, then sent a little magic toward the door latch. It clicked open and Lorkin stepped inside, looking contrite. She sighed with relief.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Mother. Jonna.” He nodded to them both. “The meeting didn’t finish until a few minutes ago.”

“Well, you’re just in time,” Jonna said, walking to the door. “Any longer and I was going to eat your meal for you.”

“Why don’t you stay and join us?” he asked, smiling hopefully.

She gave him a measured look. “And have the two of us telling you what a fool you are?”

He blinked, then grinned ruefully. “Good night, Jonna.”

She sniffed in amusement, before she slipped out of the door, pulling it closed behind her.

Sonea looked at him. He met her eyes briefly, and looked around the room.

“Is something different?” he asked.

“No.” She gestured to the other chair. “Sit down. Eat. No point letting the food get any colder.”

He nodded and they began to fill their plates with food. Sonea noted he ate with his usual enthusiasm. Or was he hurrying? Did he want this meal over with? To escape his overbearing mother and stop being reminded of things he wanted to ignore – like the risks in travelling to Sachaka?

She waited until the meal was over and he looked a bit more relaxed, before raising the subject he must know she’d invited him here in order to discuss.

“So,” she began. “Why Sachaka?”

He blinked and turned to meet her eyes.

“Because... because it’s where I want to go.”

“But why do you want to go there? Of all the places, it is the most dangerous – especially for you.”

“Lord Maron doesn’t think so. Nor does Lord Dannyl. At least, they don’t think it will be any more dangerous for me than for anyone else.”

Sonea looked at him closely. “That is only because they don’t believe something unless they see proof. The only way they can see proof that it is dangerous for you to enter Sachaka is to take you there and observe something bad happen to you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then you don’t have proof either.”

“Not that sort of proof.” She forced a smile. “I’d hardly be a responsible parent if I took you to Sachaka to test my belief that it is dangerous.”

“So how do you know it’s dangerous?”

“From what your father told me. From what Guild Ambassadors and traders have confirmed since. They all agree that Sachakans are bound by their code of honour to seek revenge for the death of a family member – even if they didn’t like that family member, and even if that family member was an outcast.”

“But the Guild Ambassadors looked into it. They said the family of Kariko and Dakova did not want revenge. The brothers had been a liability to them; it was clearly a relief to them that they had died.”

“They also said that the family had gained some admiration for the brother’s daring invasion, despite the fact they were outcasts and the invasion failed.” Sonea shrugged. “It is easier to feel gratitude and loyalty to someone after they are dead. You can’t discount the fact that the Ambassadors only spoke to some family members, not all. That if the head of the family expressed one view then others who disagreed would stay quiet.”

“But they wouldn’t act against the head of the family, either,” he pointed out.

“Not in any way that could be traced to them.”

Lorkin shook his head in frustration. “Nobody is going to slip poison into my food or cut my throat in my sleep. Even if I wasn’t able to use magic to treat one and shield against the other, nobody is going to risk breaking the peace between our countries.”

“Or else they’ll see you as the perfect excuse to spoil it.” Sonea leaned forward. “They might be offended that the Guild sent Akkarin’s son there. Your little sight-seeing trip might ruin everything the Guild has worked for since the invasion.”

His eyes widened, then his face hardened.

“It’s not a sight-seeing trip. I... I want to help Lord Dannyl. I think what he’s trying to do is... is... it could help us. By looking into the past we might find new knowledge – new magic – that could help us defend ourselves. Perhaps we won’t have to use black magic any more.”

For a moment Sonea could not speak. Surprise was quickly followed by a wave of guilt.

“You’re not on a quest to save me, or something, are you?” she asked, her voice unintentionally weak.

“No!” He shook his head. “If we found such magic it would help us all. It might even help the Sachakans. If