Tayend sighed and sat down on a chair. “I don’t want to spoil the adventure for you, Dannyl, but I already dislike Lonmar.”
Dannyl nodded. “Judgment Square wasn’t exactly an encouraging introduction to the country,” he agreed. “But I don’t want to judge Lonmar too quickly. There must be more to this place. If you saw the slums of Imardin first, you might not think much of Kyralia. Hopefully we’ve seen the worst, and the rest can only be better.”
Tayend sighed, then moved to his trunk and opened it. “You’re probably right. I’ll try to find some plainer clothes.”
Dannyl smiled tiredly. “Sometimes this uniform has advantages,” he said, tugging the sleeve of his robe. “Same old purple robes every day, but at least I can wear them anywhere throughout the Allied Lands.” He moved to the doorway. “If I don’t see you in the baths, then I’ll meet you at dinner.”
Without looking up, Tayend lifted a hand to wave. Dannyl left the scholar to rifle through the bright clothes in his trunk and entered the other room.
He sobered as he considered the next few weeks. After he had dealt with his ambassadorial duties in the city, they would visit the Splendid Temple as part of their research. It was said to be a serenely beautiful place, yet it was the center of the strict Mahga religion that set out the punishments that he had encountered today. Suddenly he wasn’t looking forward to the visit.
Yet they might find information about ancient magic there. After a month stuck in the confines of a ship, he was looking forward to stretching his legs and mind again. Hopefully he was right that the rest of Lonmar could only be more welcoming than Judgment Square.
It was late when Lorlen returned to his office. Taking Dannyl’s latest report from his secure box, he sat down at the desk and read it through again. As he finished he leaned back in his chair and sighed.
He had been thinking about Akkarin’s diary for weeks now. If it existed, it would be in the High Lord’s Residence somewhere. Considering what the diary might contain, Lorlen doubted it was kept in Akkarin’s library with ordinary books. It was probably stowed in the cellar beneath the building, and Lorlen was sure that place was securely locked.
A chill breeze touched his skin. He shivered, then cursed under his breath. His office had always been drafty, something that the previous Administrator had complained of constantly. Rising, he hunted for the source of the breeze as he had often done in the past but, as always, the chill disappeared as suddenly as it had come.
Shaking his head, he started pacing. Dannyl and his scholar companion should arrive in Lonmar soon and they would visit the Splendid Temple. Lorlen hoped they would find nothing - the idea that information about black magic might exist in such a place was appalling to consider.
He stopped pacing at a knock on the door. Striding over, he pulled it open, expecting to receive a gentle lecture about getting enough sleep from Lord Osen. Instead, a dark silhouette filled the doorway.
“Good evening, Lorlen,” Akkarin said, smiling.
Lorlen stared at the High Lord in surprise.
“Are you going to let me in?”
“Of course!” Shaking his head as if to clear it, Lorlen stepped back. Akkarin strolled inside and folded himself into one of the large cushioned chairs. The High Lord’s gaze strayed to Lorlen’s desk.
Following his friend’s gaze, Lorlen caught his breath as he saw Dannyl’s letter lying open. It took all his will to stop himself rushing over and stuffing the pages back into the box. Instead, he crossed the room casually, stopping to straighten a chair, then dropped into his seat with a sigh.
“As always, you find me in a mess,” he muttered. Picking up Dannyl’s letter, he dropped it back in the secure box. After tidying a few more items on the desk, he slipped the box into a drawer. “What brings you here at this late hour?”
Akkarin shrugged. “Nothing in particular. You’re always visiting me, so I thought it was time I dropped in to see you. I knew better than to try your rooms first, though this is a late hour even for you.”
“It is.” Lorlen nodded. “I was just reading some mail, then I was going to finish for the night.”
“Anything interesting? How is Lord Dannyl?”
Lorlen’s heart skipped. Had Akkarin been able to see Dannyl’s signature, or had he recognized the writing? He frowned as he tried to remember what had been written on the exposed page.
“He’s on his way to Lonmar to settle the council’s argument about Greater Clan Koyhmar. I asked Errend to see to it, since he now has a Second Ambassador to deal with Elyne matters while he’s away, but Errend decided to send Dannyl in his place.”
Akkarin smiled. “Lonmar. A place that will either whet the appetite for travel, or kill it.”
Lorlen leaned forward. “What did it do for you?”
“Hmmm,” Akkarin considered the question carefully. “It did give me a hunger to see more of the world, but it also hardened me as a traveller. Lonmars may be the most civilized people of the Allied Lands, but there is much that is harsh and cruel about them. You learn to tolerate their sense of justice, perhaps understand it as well, but by doing so your own beliefs and ideals are strengthened. The same could be said of Elyne frivolity, or the Vindo obsession with trade. There is more to life than fashion and money.”
Akkarin paused, his gaze distant, then shifted in his seat. “And you discover that, just as not every Elyne is frivolous, or every Vindo is greedy, not every Lonmar is unbending. Most are kind and forgiving, preferring to resolve disputes privately. I did learn much about them, and though the whole journey there proved to be a waste of time as regards my research, the experience has proven to be valuable to my role here.”
Lorlen closed his eyes and massaged them. A waste of time? Was Dannyl also wasting his time?
“You are tired, my friend,” Akkarin said, his voice softening. “I am keeping you from your bed with my tales.”
Blinking, Lorlen looked up at the High Lord. “No - don’t mind me. Please go on.”
“No.” Akkarin rose, his black robes rustling. “I was putting you to sleep. We’ll catch up another time.”
Disappointment and relief mingled as Lorlen followed Akkarin to the door. Stepping into the corridor, Akkarin turned back to regard Lorlen, and smiled crookedly.
“Good night, Lorlen. You will get some rest, won’t you? You look exhausted.”
“Yes. Good night, Akkarin.”
Closing the door, Lorlen sighed. He had just learned something useful - or had he? Akkarin might be saying he had found nothing in Lonmar to hide something he had discovered. It was odd that he should suddenly talk of the journey when he had avoided the subject in the past.
Lorlen winced as a cold draft chilled his neck. Distracted from his thoughts, he yawned, then returned to his desk and moved the secure box to its proper place in the cupboard. Feeling better, he left the office and started for his rooms.
He must be patient. Dannyl would find out soon enough whether his journey to Lonmar was a waste of time.
12
Not What They Had in Mind
How had he done it?
Sonea walked slowly down the corridor. In her arms was the box in which she kept her pen, inkwell and unbound folder of notes and fresh paper.
The folder was empty.
Once more she searched her memory. When had she given Regin an opportunity to get to her belongings? She was always cautious, never leaving her notes unattended for a moment.
But in the classroom, during Lady Kinla’s lesson, the novices were often called from their seats to observe some demonstration. It was possible Regin had slipped her notes out of their cover as he passed her table. She had believed such nimble-fingeredness was beyond the pampered children of the Houses. Obviously she was wrong.
