The Ambassador's Mission

“Don’t Kyralians use blood rings?”

“Yes, but—”

“Even so, surely you know that travelling on horseback is faster than in a cart.”

“Well, yes...”

She rolled her eyes, then turned away and slipped behind some boxes filled with wax-stoppered pottery jars. As he followed, he saw a small doorway that had been fixed permanently closed with boards. She glanced at the lamp, then at the boxes of jars. Stepping back, she stared at the boxes. They began to move, swaying precariously as they slid forward to block the view of the doorway.

Then she turned to stare at the boards fixing the door closed, and they began to flex themselves away from the frame.

“Put out the lamp,” she ordered without taking her eyes off her work.

Lorkin looked over at the lamp, then drew magic and sent it out, shaping it into a small barrier that starved the flame of air. As the lamp went out and the room filled with darkness, he felt a fresh breeze and turned to see a rectangle of dark blue streaked with orange clouds where the door had been. He took a step toward it, but the sky vanished as Tyvara swung the door to again and he felt her hand press on his chest to stop him.

“Wait,” she murmured. “Get out of sight.”

Sounds were coming from the main store doorway. Light streaked into the room, moving and spreading as the source drew closer. Then the slave master and the boy entered, followed by a woman. They both stared at the mugs and buns left untouched, then looked around the store.

“They’re gone,” the boy said.

“They can’t have gone far,” the woman said. “Should we start searching?”

“No,” the slave master said. “Too dangerous. If they are what you say they are, only the master can deal with them, and he’s in the city.”

The woman looked as if she wanted to argue, but instead nodded stiffly and left the store. The slave master looked around the room again. For a moment he looked as if he might search it, but then he shook his head and headed for the door.

As soon as he was gone, Lorkin felt the breeze again. Tyvara grabbed his arm and pulled him through the doorway. She took hold of both of his arms in a strong grip. He felt his stomach sink as they suddenly began to rise into the air.

Levitation, he thought, looking down at where the invisible force beneath their feet must be. I haven’t had reason to do that in years.

They stepped off onto the roof of the store. Tyvara crouched and began to creep across it slowly and quietly, keeping below the peak of the roof so that people in the courtyard wouldn’t see them. Lorkin followed, wincing at every creak of the wooden tiles. The slave shoes were much quieter than magician’s boots, and had surprisingly good grip on the roof tiles.

At the end of the store roof they levitated down to the next building, then the next, and finally to one which provided a good hiding place in the shadow of a large chimney. A loud grinding sound came from below, which would mask any sounds they made.

Perhaps now I can ask her some questions.

“When it’s fully dark we’ll go back to the road,” Tyvara told him.

“And if we encounter anyone?”

“Nobody will look at us closely. Slaves on the road aren’t unusual, even at night, whereas if we cut across the fields we become trespassers. Field slaves won’t approach us, but they’ll report us to their master. Even if we get away before he investigates, anyone paying attention to such reports will know the direction we’re travelling in.” She sighed. “I was hoping to get further away from the city before this happened.”

“You were expecting this?”

“Yes.”

“Are your contacts here safe?”

“Yes.”

“So... they’re here, but so are the people who tried to kill me?”

“Yes.” She shook her head. “But... it’s more complicated than that.”

He stared at her expectantly, but she said nothing more, only staring out over the fields. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. But she can’t go hinting that there’s more to this than what she’s told me without expecting me to pursue it.

“Why is it more complicated?” he asked, then frowned in surprise at the hard tone in his voice.

She looked at him, her eyes barely visible in the growing darkness.

“I shouldn’t... but I guess there’s no point keeping it secret any longer.” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “We can’t trust any slaves now, not even those that are Traitors. We Traitors... we don’t always agree with each other. Some of us are divided into groups based on our opinions and philosophy.”

“Factions?” he suggested.

“Yes, I suppose they could be called that. The faction that I belong to believes that you are a potential ally and should not be killed. The other... doesn’t.”

Lorkin caught his breath. Her people want me dead! He felt a sinking feeling inside, but pushed it aside. No, only some of them do.

“My faction has more influence on our people,” she told him. “We say that killing you could lead to war between Sachaka and Kyralia. That we should only kill when it is unavoidable. That blaming the child for the actions of the parent is how Sachakans think, not us. But...”

She paused, and when she continued her voice had lowered. “But I have done something that may shift that balance.” She drew in another breath, and this time it shook slightly. “The woman I killed to save you – Riva – was not an assassin sent by a Sachakan family. She was a Traitor. One from the other faction.”

“You lied,” Lorkin stated.

“Yes. Even if I’d had time to explain at the Guild House, you wouldn’t have come with me, and you’d probably be dead by now.”

Lorkin scowled. What else has she lied about? But if all else that she said was true, especially about the Traitors, he understood the deception. I wouldn’t have left with her. I’d have been too confused.

“When my people find out that I killed her, the other faction will gain support,” Tyvara continued. “And from the way things went here I’d say the news has definitely overtaken us. Anyone from the other faction won’t help us, and they’ll try to stop others helping us. They might try to kill you. They might try to kill us both.”

“And the Traitors from your faction?”

“They won’t try to kill us, but they may not help us in case that makes them guilty of helping a murderer. Eventually the news will reach Sanctuary and our leaders will override any orders scout leaders in the estates have made. Official orders will be sent out.”

Lorkin’s head spun with all this new information. Throughout Sachaka there were people – a whole society of them – deciding whether he should be killed or not. He shook his head. And what did she mean by “blaming a child for the actions of a parent”? What did my parents do to make them so angry? He had too many questions, and he and Tyvara could be discovered at any moment. Best stick to the more immediate problems. Like how much danger he was in from these Traitors.

“So, if your faction was in control, why did Riva try to kill me?”

Tyvara gave a short, bitter laugh. “She disobeyed her orders. Disobeyed me.”

“And nobody knows that, so they think you murdered her?”

A pause. “Yes, but even when they find out why I killed her... Traitors don’t kill Traitors. It’s a far more serious crime than disobeying orders. Even my own faction will want me punished for that.”

“They’ll kill you?”

“I... I don’t know.” She sounded so uncertain, even frightened, that he suddenly had to resist the urge to put his arms around her and reassure her that everything would be fine. But the words would be a lie. He had no idea what was going to happen, where to go, or even where he was. She had dragged him away from all he understood. This was her world. She was the resourceful one. Whether he liked it or not, he needed her to be in charge.