The Traitor Queen

The mansion Lorkin led them to was larger than most. A pair of Traitors stood by the door. They stared at the foreigners, but did not object as Lorkin led them through. Inside, they were confronted by chaos and noise. The usual short corridor was lined with people, and the Master’s Room was crowded with more. Some lay on the floor, injuries poorly bandaged or not at all. Others hovered over them, clearly not injured, sometimes four for every patient. Traitors hurried from the corridor on one side to the one on the other, tripping on limbs and all manner of objects from baskets of food to bottles of wine. One of the injured was clutching a large gold box even as the wound in her leg bled freely. From somewhere beyond the room came muffled screams and shouting.

“This is a mess!” Sonea exclaimed. “Isn’t anybody in charge here?”

The noise in the room diminished slightly. Heads had turned toward her. A Traitor who had just stepped into the room stopped and glared at her. Sonea cursed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to speak so loudly.

“Where’s Kalia?” Lorkin asked the Traitor.

“Treating someone,” the woman said.

“Who is checking the new patients?”

The woman shrugged and looked around. “Someone...”

Lorkin waved her on. “Go do whatever you were doing. I’ll sort this out.”

The woman hurried way. Lorkin looked down at his rings and pressed the stone of one of them. His gaze shifted to the distance and he was still for a long moment, then he nodded and straightened. He turned to Sonea.

“Savara is sending a Speaker over. She’ll make sure everyone here follows your orders. Kalia used to be in charge of the treatment of the sick in Sanctuary, but she broke a few laws and... well, she’s not herself at the moment. She’s only here because we need her expertise.” His dislike was obvious. “She knows a little Healing. The best way to handle her, I think, will be to give her patients to treat but not decisions to make.”

Sonea raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Savara is putting me in charge?”

“For tonight.” He grimaced. “It took a lot of persuading. We thought we could rely on Kalia but...” He shrugged. “I can’t tell you the details but she made a bad decision and it has shattered her confidence. She is a good Healer. Dedicated. You can trust her to do her job well.” He took a step toward the entrance. “Speaker Yvali will be here in a moment. I have to go. Ambassador Dannyl is to come back with me.”

Dannyl’s eyebrows rose, but he did not appear concerned as he followed Lorkin out. Sonea looked at Merria, who was staring around the room and shaking her head.

“It won’t take long to sort this out,” Sonea assured her. “So long as people do as we say.”

Merria nodded eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to set up a hospice. After I’d explored the world.”

Sonea regarded the young woman with new interest. Where were you hiding this one, Vinara? she thought. She had often suspected the Head of Healers was keeping the best of the new Healers for herself. Not that I wouldn’t do it, too, if I was in her position. But it looks like she let this one slip through her fingers. Maybe one day, after Merria has satisfied her wanderlust, she’ll come back to work with me.

A Traitor woman stepped out of the shadows of the crowded entrance corridor and met Sonea’s gaze. Sonea straightened and smiled. Putting all plans for Merria’s future aside, she stepped forward and began to explain what she and the sick and injured of Arvice needed.

* * *

Celebratory bonfires were not confined to the parade, Dannyl discovered, as he, Tayend, Lorkin and Achati’s former slaves made their way to the Guild House. They were being lit all over Arvice, and the thought of all the beautiful and precious things being used to fuel them made him feel a bit ill.

They’re just objects, he told himself. But it still saddened him, and he could not delude himself that precious knowledge wasn’t being destroyed along with the merely beautiful. How could ex- slaves, most of whom did not know how to read, realise that they might be burning something that could benefit them and their descendants? Maybe the two following them would. They had been hiding in Achati’s library, after all. Is Achati’s library being burned right now? If it isn’t, can I persuade the Traitors to protect it?

He looked at the young man walking beside him. Lorkin would understand. He might not be able to do anything, but Dannyl at least had to ask, in case there was a chance that he could.

What had kept him from trying was the memory of Lorkin fighting alongside the Traitors. Of the Ashaki falling before their strikes. Of the thought that Lorkin might have been the one who killed Achati.

From the awkward silence between them, Dannyl guessed Lorkin was at least aware that fighting with the Traitors had strained his relationship with Dannyl and the Guild. But he can’t know why, in my case. Only Tayend knew that Achati and I were more than friends. And Tayend wasn’t saying anything.

“Have you made any progress on your book?” Lorkin asked.

“Not for some time,” Dannyl replied.

“Did the copies you made reach the Guild?”

“Not yet.”

They continued on without speaking for several minutes, dodging another group of revellers. Finally they rounded a corner and came in sight of the gates of the Guild House. No bonfires, thankfully, but, as a result, the street was dark. As they drew closer Dannyl heard Tayend draw in a quick breath. At the same time, he saw that the gates were hanging oddly. Someone had broken through them.

Lorkin reached into his vest and drew out something. He held it between two fingers, at the level of his chest, as he approached the gates. Bending to examine the twisted metal, he made a low noise.

“Only magic could have done this,” he murmured. He straightened and frowned at the building beyond. “The door is open.”

They stood, unmoving, as Lorkin stared at the open door, frowning. “I think we should go back and get —”

“I’ll go in and check,” Lak said, striding forward, followed by Vata.

“Wait, you don’t—” Lorkin began, but the former slaves ignored him, walking silently across the courtyard and into the building. Lorkin sighed and looked at Dannyl. “They must like you.”

Dannyl met his gaze. “They were Achati’s slaves.”

Lorkin blinked, then his expression became pained. “He didn’t survive, did he?”

“Of course not. He was one of the king’s closest advisers.”

“A fine way to pay him back for getting me out of Arvice.” Lorkin’s tone was heavy with regret.

“He’d have just as easily turned you over to the king, if he had thought it would benefit Sachaka,” Tayend said.

Dannyl looked at Tayend sharply. The Elyne stared back at him. Daring me to deny it, thought Dannyl, ruefully. I can’t. Though I’d like to think Achati would have felt bad about it, if he’d turned Lorkin over.

Lorkin looked down at the object he was holding and shook his head. Looking closer, Dannyl saw light reflect off something in the centre.

“It’s not right they take such a risk for us. Stay here. Out of sight.” He started toward the door. Dannyl looked at Tayend, and they both hurried after Lorkin. As Lorkin noticed this he sighed. “Stay close, then. Inside my shield.”

As they entered the building Dannyl felt the vibration of a shield surround them. It was dark inside. Lorkin created a globe light and sent it floating before them. They emerged into an empty Master’s Room. Lorkin chose the right-hand corridor. If the invaders were after magic or valuables to steal, they’d head for the suite of the highest-status person in the house. Reaching Dannyl’s rooms, Lorkin stepped inside. The rooms were empty, but someone had gone through the chests and cupboards, tossing most of the contents aside from the look of it. They turned to go, only to be met by Lak, holding a lamp.

“Nobody in the house,” the slave reported. “Vata is checking the stables and slave quarters. Don’t think any Ashaki would hide there, though.”

Lorkin let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Tayend. “Would you like me to come with you while you fetch the blood ring?”