the important people I will no longer be treated to nightly meals and conversations.”
Achati’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you may find yourself even more in demand once I am no longer required to escort you. Entertaining another Sachakan can be an exhausting and politically perilous exercise. You are both exotic and not too easily offended, so an easy guest to entertain.” He gestured to the carriage window. “Look outside as we turn the corner.”
The vehicle slowed and the wall beside them ended. A wide road came into sight. Long beds of flowers appeared, sheltered by enormous trees. Where these gardens ended, a large building stood. White walls curved out from a central archway like carefully draped curtains. Shallow domes rose above them, glittering in the sunlight. Dannyl felt his heart lift at the sight.
“That’s the palace? It’s beautiful,” he said, leaning forward to keep the building in view as the carriage turned into the road. But soon he could only see the white walls of the mansions to the side. He turned back to Ashaki Achati to see the man smiling in approval.
“It is over a thousand years old,” the Sachakan said, with pride. “Parts had to be rebuilt over the years, of course. The walls are doubled so that defenders can hide within and strike at invaders through holes and hatches.” He shrugged. “Not that they have ever been used for that purpose. When Kyralia’s army arrived here ours had already been defeated, and the last emperor surrendered without resistance.”
Dannyl nodded. He had learned as much from basic history classes during his University years, and his research had confirmed it.
“The third king had the domes plated with gold,” Achati continued. He shook his head. “A frivolous indulgence in what was a time of starvation, but they are so beautiful that nobody has ever removed them, and from time to time a king will see that they are cleaned and mended.”
The carriage began to slow and turn, and Dannyl watched eagerly as the palace came in sight again. Once he and Achati had alighted, they stopped to gaze up at the building in admiration for a moment before starting toward the central archway.
Guards at either side of the entrance remained frozen, their gaze set on the distance. They weren’t slaves, Dannyl remembered, but were recruited from the lowest ranks of the Sachakan families.
They passed through two open doors, then followed a wide corridor with no side entrances. At the end of this was a large room filled with columns. The floor and walls were polished stone. Their footsteps echoed as they walked. Toward the back of this room was a large stone chair, and in it sat an old man wearing the most elaborately decorated clothes Dannyl had seen on any Sachakan since he’d arrived.
Men stood about the room, alone or in twos and threes. They watched silently as Dannyl and Ashaki Achati approached. About twenty paces from the king, Achati stopped and glanced at Dannyl.
The glance was a signal. Achati bowed deeply. Dannyl dropped to one knee.
Lord Maron had explained that Sachakans felt that nothing less than the gesture considered most respectful by an individual – especially a foreigner – was what their king deserved. So the traditional Kyralian and Elyne obeisance to a king was the most appropriate, despite the fact that Sachakans did not kneel before their own king.
“Rise, Ambassador Dannyl,” an elderly voice spoke. “Welcome, to you and my good friend Ashaki Achati.”
Dannyl was grateful the contact with the floor had been brief. The stone was cold. He looked up at the king and was surprised to find the man had left the throne and was walking toward them.
“It is an honour to meet you, King Amakira,” he replied.
“And a pleasure for me to meet the new Guild Ambassador at last.” The old man’s eyes were dark and unreadable, but the wrinkles around them deepened with a genuine smile. “Would you like to see more of the palace?”
“I would, your majesty,” Dannyl replied.
“Come with me and I’ll show you around.”
Ashaki Achati waved a hand to indicate that Dannyl should walk beside the king, then followed behind as the ruler led them out of the hall through a side entrance. A wide corridor ran alongside the hall, before curving off in another direction. As the king repeated what Achati had told Dannyl of the age of the palace, he led them through more sinuous corridors and odd-shaped rooms. Soon Dannyl was completely disorientated.
“You have an interest in history, I have been told,” the king said, looking at Dannyl with one eyebrow raised.
“Yes. I am writing a history of magic, your majesty.”
“A book! I would like to write a book one day. How close are you to finishing?”
Dannyl shrugged. “I don’t know. There are some gaps in Kyralia’s history that I’d like to fill before printing the book.”
“What gaps are they?”
“According to the history taught in the Guild University, Imardin was levelled during the Sachakan War, but I’ve found no evidence of it. In fact, I have found some evidence to the contrary in Ashaki Itoki’s collection.”
“Of course it wasn’t levelled!” the king exclaimed, smiling. “We lost the final battle!”
Dannyl spread his hands. “It might have been destroyed during the battle, however.”
“There’s no mention of it in our records. Though... few Sachakans survived the last battle and even fewer returned home, so most of the information was gleaned from the Kyralians who conquered us. I guess they could have painted a better picture than the reality.” The king shrugged. “So where do you think this idea that the city was levelled came from?”
“Maps and buildings,” Dannyl replied. “There are no buildings older than four hundred years, and the few maps we have from before the Sachakan War show an entirely different street plan.”
“Then you should be looking at events from four hundred years ago,” the king concluded. “Was there any battle fought in the city at that time? Or a disaster such as a flood or fire?”
Dannyl nodded. “There was, but few magicians believe it was drastic enough to level the city. Many records from that time were destroyed.” He paused, hoping the king wouldn’t ask why. The event he referred to was the story of Tagin, the Mad Apprentice, which was the story of why the Guild had banned black magic. He could not help feeling reluctant to remind the Sachakan king that most Guild magicians did not learn black magic.
“If this event was great enough to ruin a city it would have destroyed any records within the city as well.”
Dannyl nodded. “But the Guild wasn’t destroyed. I’ve found many references to the library it contained. By all accounts, it was well stocked.”
“Perhaps those books had been moved.”
Dannyl frowned.
“I am surprised Kyralian history is so muddled. But we have gaps in our history as well. Come in here.” The king ushered Dannyl and Achati into a small, round room. The walls and floor were polished stone, as was the ceiling. There was only one entrance. In the centre stood a column about waist high.
“Something important once lay here,” the king said, running a palm over the flat top of the column. “We don’t know what it was, but we do know two things: it was a thing of power, either political or magical, and the Guild stole it.”
Dannyl looked at the king, then back at the column.
“I’ve encountered a reference to an artefact taken from this palace,” Dannyl told him. “But I’d not heard