Canavan Trudi - The Traitor Queen

Everything had been fine between them when he had helped her in the hunt for Lorandra. He’d been remarkably easy to work with. But this time they would be together day and night, week after week, with no respite from each other.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Once we get to the Guild House in Arvice we’ll have two other magicians to talk to as well as the Elyne Ambassador.

In the meantime, they would be stuck with each other’s company. Though she did not distrust Regin as she had at the beginning of the hunt for Lorandra, it was impossible for her to forget the pain and humiliation he had subjected her to as a novice.

That is in the past. He has been nothing but respectful and supportive these last twenty years. He even apologised, during the Ichani Invasion. Am I unable to accept apologies? It is silly of me to carry around this resentment.

A knock at the main door made her jump, even though she was expecting it. She put down her cup and rose, walking to the door as she willed it open with magic. Regin’s servant bowed.

“Lord Regin is home, and awaits your visit.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Stepping past him, she closed the door and headed down the corridor to Regin’s rooms. As she reached his door she paused to take a deep breath before knocking. The door opened. Regin inclined his head.

“Black Magician Sonea,” he said. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, Lord Regin,” she replied.

She moved inside. The room was sparsely furnished, and most of the contents looked new. She saw nothing that appeared long-treasured or personal. Regin gestured to a chair.

“Would you like to sit down?”

Sonea regarded the chair and shook her head. “I better not take up too much of your time, considering what I have to tell you.” She met his gaze. He was watching her with an intense stillness. An expectation. Suddenly the lack of personal belongings made sense: he’d known he might be leaving soon so why bring them here? “We’ll be leaving tomorrow night,” she told him.

He let out a small breath, looked away and nodded. She caught a fleeting expression and felt a pang of guilt. I haven’t seen him show apprehension since the Invasion.

“If that is too soon, or you feel that your obligations are here, it is not too late to change your mind,” she told him, keeping her tone formal to avoid sounding like she was questioning his determination or any suggestion she might consider changing his mind cowardly.

He shook his head. “It is not too soon. In fact, the timing is perfect. I have no other obligations than to do my job, which is to be useful to the Guild and Kyralia. It’s rather nice to actually be useful for once. This is the sort of task we Warriors are trained for, and yet most of the time we strive not to be needed.”

Sonea looked away and felt a pang of sympathy at the slight hint of bitterness in his voice. No other obligations. He really has cast off all familial ties. The ruthlessness of his revenge on his wife for her numerous adulterous affairs had entertained the Guild gossips for weeks. He’d given his two properties to his daughters, both married to respectable and wealthy men, and requested rooms in the Guild. This had left his wife homeless and with no money, forcing her to live with her family.

Rumour was that she had attempted to kill herself after Regin had sent her last lover away. Her lover, on the other hand, had simply found another wealthy woman to seduce. Despite this and the shame of being returned to her family like faulty goods, Wynina had made no further suicide attempts. Sonea didn’t know whether to feel sorry for her or not. Sometimes she wondered if being married to Regin had driven the woman to such extremes.

Perhaps he is well-behaved in public, but goes back to being the nasty brat he was as a novice in private.

Perhaps she would find out, on this journey. Not that their time together would qualify as “private”. The purpose was too important, and would still be so even if Lorkin wasn’t a prisoner.

“I can now tell you the reason for the journey,” she said. Regin’s head lifted and his gaze snapped to hers. “Tomorrow everyone will be told. Lorkin returned to Arvice. Before he could leave for Kyralia, King Amakira summoned him and, when Lorkin would not answer questions about the Traitors, he imprisoned him.”

Regin’s eyes widened. “Oh, I am sorry to hear that, Sonea.” He grimaced in sympathy. “They’re sending you to negotiate his release, then? You must be impatient to leave.” He took a small step toward her. “I will do everything I can to help.”

His expression was so earnest that the familiar anxiety that came every time she thought of Lorkin began to return. She looked down and pushed the feeling away.

“Thank you. I know you will.”

“If we are leaving tomorrow… we have barely begun the process of adding to your strength. Do you want me to give you power now?”

Something within her clenched, and she felt her face warming. She glanced at him and away.

“No,” she replied quickly. “Tomorrow there’ll be a Meet, and Osen is going to ask for volunteers. Wait until then.”

“What is Osen going to tell everyone?”

“Only what I’ve told you.”

“Only?” Regin let out a soft sigh. “Be careful, Sonea.”

She looked up at him, then realised her mistake. She had given away to him that there was more to the journey than Lorkin’s imprisonment. That tiny piece of information might endanger both of their lives, should a Sachakan magician read it from his mind.

Too late now. I must be more careful in future.

But the frightening truth was, if Regin wound up in the hands of a Sachakan magician who wasn’t prevented by politics and diplomacy from reading his mind, there was a good chance Sonea would be too. Though Naki’s ring would prevent her own mind from being read, she did not know how long she would hold out against someone determined to torture information out of her.

Especially if they used Lorkin to persuade her.

Though nothing had happened he hadn’t expected, Dannyl still felt anger and humiliation simmering inside. He hoped that it hadn’t shown. He’d endeavoured to remain calm and polite throughout his short visit to the palace, but he could never tell if he was successful or if his true feelings were somehow obvious — or that his feigned calm was taken as an indicator he’d been successfully ticked off.

Ironically, the decision he’d made to call off the search for Lorkin, which had cost him respect among the Sachakan elite, was making it harder to protect the young magician now. There had been more than a few smirks on the faces of those who’d witnessed the denial of his request to see Lorkin.

If I’d let the search continue, the chances are I and the Ashaki who’d helped me would have been killed by the Traitors. Lorkin would have had no help at all when he returned to the Guild House.

But that wasn’t entirely true. The Guild would have sent a replacement Ambassador. One whose reputation hadn’t been besmirched by cowardice. Which might have been better for Lorkin’s predicament.

No. If the Traitors had been forced to kill a Guild magician, Lorkin may not have returned to the Guild House at all. He may not have even been allowed into Sanctuary for fear that he’d seek revenge for my death.

Though… the idea of anybody seeking revenge for his death felt unlikely and ridiculous to Dannyl.

A faint rhythm of bare heels on the floor came from the direction of the Guild House entrance. Dannyl stopped pacing the Master’s Room and turned to face the sound. The door slave, Tav, emerged from the passage and threw himself on the floor with his usual overly dramatic flair — a habit that Tayend had noted about the man a few weeks before.