Canavan Trudi - The Traitor Queen

I should have asked her to explain. But he’d only had one last moment with her, the morning of the previous day, and he’d used the opportunity to question her about another magical puzzle. Her gaze had grown keener as he’d asked if she’d heard of magicians able to read surface thoughts.

“Your father was supposed to have been able to,” she’d told him. “I always assumed he encouraged the rumour in order to maintain the fear or awe people regarded him with — and if questions were raised about other abilities he shouldn’t have, he could point to that rumour as an example of the silly things people thought about him.”

“It might not have been a lie,” Lorkin had told her.

Her surprise had, as always, turned to thoughtful calculation. What she’d said next he hadn’t expected. “Best keep that to yourself,” she’d advised. “It will make even those closest to you uncomfortable. Be careful you don’t learn more about others than you really want to.”

She has a point. He could imagine many situations where hearing someone’s stray thoughts might be embarrassing. Fortunately, it was only the clearest surface thoughts that he could hear, and only when he was concentrating hard.

“Lorkin.”

Tyvara had returned to his side. She had been called over by Savara and the pair had been chatting for some time.

“Yes?”

She smiled. “Tell me more about Lord Regin. Is he particularly important to the Guild? Why do you think he was with your mother?”

Lorkin frowned. “He’s not important. Well, he’s from an important House, but he doesn’t hold a position within the Guild.”

“So is he just a source of magic for your mother?”

He tried to imagine that scenario, and failed. But then, he’d pictured Regin behaving like a Sachakan source slave, when the man didn’t have to. All he has to do is send power out and Mother will take and store it. It would involve touching, of course, but nothing more than clasping hands.

“Maybe,” Lorkin replied. “Well… probably.”

“So how are they related? Friends? Lovers?”

“No. In fact, he and Mother hated each other as novices. He bullied her until she challenged him to a duel. She thrashed him, and after that he left her alone.”

“A duel?” Tyvara’s eyebrows rose and her smile widened. “Interesting custom.”

Lorkin narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you mocking my people’s ways?”

“Not at all.” She tried to look serious.

“You are,” he accused her. Then he grinned. “It is a silly custom. As far as I know, nobody had challenged anyone to a duel for years before, and nobody has since.”

“It must have been her last resort, then.” Tyvara looked thoughtful. “So, did they become good friends after their big confrontation, as so often is the case?”

“No. Mother hasn’t forgiven him.” Though Lorkin could not remember her saying so. If anything, she always pointed out how brave Regin had been during the invasion. Grudgingly.

Tyvara said nothing to that, and he turned to see she was frowning.

“Why do you ask?”

She looked up. “Well… Savara and I both thought that it was odd that the Guild would send two people with such obvious regard for each other on such a mission. If they were captured it would be harder on them, if one was threatened to blackmail the other.”

“My mother and Regin?” Lorkin shook his head. “Impossible. You’ve got the wrong idea.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe the seeming impossibility of it led to the Guild not realising what a bad choice Regin is. Or maybe Sonea and Regin don’t realise it either.”

Lorkin shook his head and sighed.

“What?”

“The most powerful women in Sachaka, and all you do is waste time gossiping and matchmaking. Ow!” He rubbed her arm where she’d hit him.

“Men gossip more,” she said. “And it’s not a waste of time, when it has political and martial consequences.”

“It does?”

“It will.” Her head lifted and her eyes narrowed. “Ah.”

He turned to stare ahead. Past Savara and the Traitors walking ahead, he saw that they were cresting the top of a dune. Ahead lay a flat plain covered in sparse vegetation and, a few hours walk away, a sprawl of buildings.

“You can still change your mind,” she told him. “Nobody will stop you going back to Kyralia. There are no Ichani around the Pass to fear.”

Am I really brave enough — foolish enough — to join a people I have no ties of blood with and dare to wage war on the legendary black magicians my people have feared for centuries?

He looked at Tyvara and smiled. “Where you go, I go.”

She gazed at him and shook her head. “Whenever I find myself thinking I don’t deserve someone as good as you, Lorkin, I remind myself that, if you’re willing to come with me, you may be a little bit mad.”

“You think my mother and Lord Regin are in love. It’s not my sanity in question here.”

She smirked and looked away. “We’ll see.”

As they walked on in silence, her words repeated in his mind — “… someone as good as you, Lorkin ” — and he felt his smile fade. Would she still think of him as good if she knew what he’d done to the slave girl? He hadn’t told her yet. So far there had been no reason to. No, that’s not entirely true. There have been opportunities. Every time, I decided it would spoil the moment, or sour the conversation. But I shouldn’t put it off. The Traitors might need to know what happened to the girl. If she was a Traitor.

But what if she wasn’t? That was what he was most afraid of: to discover that the girl hadn’t known the water was poisoned. It was much easier to live with his decision, believing that she had deliberately taken her own life.

If this is what it feels like to have killed someone when they wanted it, what is it going to be like when the war starts and I kill people who don’t want it? Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult, given that they had enslaved, tortured and killed others. Maybe it will be easier.

He looked around at the Traitors. Their expressions were grim and determined. Talk had ceased but for the occasional low murmur. Slowly they made their way down the last dune and onto the plain, then toward the sprawling buildings. The first people they encountered were two slaves, watching over a small herd of reber. Both young boys, the pair rushed over to throw themselves on the ground before Savara. She told them to stand, and never to lower themselves before another man or woman again.

“It’s time?” one of them asked, gazing up at her eagerly.

“Yes,” she said, then nodded toward the buildings. “You know what to do?”

“Stay out of reach,” he replied. “Move away from the city. But we can’t get much further away than here.”

“No. Just stay away from the house until we are done.”

He frowned. “If I go back I can tell the others to get out.”

“That would be very brave. You must not let the Ashaki suspect we’re coming, though.”

“We won’t. We’ve all been planning for this for years.”

“Go, then.”

As the boy ran toward the buildings, Savara straightened and beckoned to the Traitors. They continued on, quickening their pace. A thrill of excitement and fear ran down Lorkin’s spine. Some of these outer estates were run by trusted slave masters, so they might not encounter an Ashaki. Or the Ashaki could be out visiting or tending to business. But the boy would have told Savara if that was so.

There’s little chance we’re not heading toward our first fight.

All too soon they were within a few hundred paces of the buildings. Then they were stepping through a gate in the low wall that surrounded them. As the Traitors spread out, in twos and threes, to approach the building from different sides, slaves emerged. They hurried, some running, past the invaders and the low wall, and out onto the plain in all directions.