Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

He scowled. “I must say, my opinion of the Traitors was lowered when I learned there would be no punishment for it.”

The queen’s expression became serious. “He was not forced into it.”

“But surely to be left so exhausted is dangerous.”

“Yes, it was careless.”

“And deliberate?”

She gave him a stern look. “Be careful what you accuse others of, Lord Lorkin. If you make such claims you had best be able to prove them.”

“I’m sure Evar was the only witness, and is hardly going to cooperate. He seems to think being humiliated and harmed is the natural cost of bedding a woman.” He looked at Zarala, deliberately meeting her eyes.

She nodded. “Our ways are not without flaws. We may not be fair and equal in all things, but we are much closer to that ideal than any other society.”

“At least we have an ideal of equality,” Tyvara added. “A lot of the resistance to change comes out of the knowledge that we are the only people ruled by women. If we do not isolate ourselves we may end up like everyone else.”

“But we can’t stay this way forever,” Zarala continued, her expression sad. “We have only so much room. Only so much workable land.” She looked down at the sewer. “Even this has limits. Our predecessors carved out tunnels and changed the courses of rivers to carry away our detritus to the other side of the mountains. If we let it flow into Sachakan waterways the Ashaki might notice and follow it back to its source. But if we grow in numbers even the Elyne rivers may not be large enough to hide our waste, and they might start to wonder where it is coming from.”

“Some of us want to restrict the number of children we have,” Tyvara said. She looked at him. “Some even want to stop non-magicians having any children at all.”

The queen sighed. “They don’t see that such measures would still change who we are. Change is inevitable. Rather than let the ill consequences of neglect decide our future, we should choose to change ourselves.” She looked at him and smiled. “As your people have done.”

He stared back at her, wondering what changes she was referring to. The intake of novices from outside the Houses? Or – he felt a stab of alarm – the limited acceptance of black magic?

I didn’t think they knew about that …

“What changes would you choose to make?” he asked, to divert the subject.

She grinned. “Oh, you’ll just have to wait to find out that.” Slapping her knees, she looked from Lorkin to Tyvara. “Well, it is time I got on with my rounds and left you two together.”

As she began to rise, Tyvara slipped her arm under the old woman’s. Lorkin quickly did the same. Once standing, Zarala paused, then took a step forward. At once she began to float away from them. Lorkin looked at the shimmering air under her feet and smiled.

So that’s how she got up here.

“Don’t get too distracted, Tyvara,” she called over her shoulder. Then she disappeared into the tunnel, the faint glow of a globe light flaring into existence illuminating the walls for a moment.

Tyvara sat down. Lorkin followed suit.

“So … did Kalia let you out or did you sneak away?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Things got quieter, so I started pestering her with questions about the cures she was making.”

She smiled. “That’d do it. Why’d you come here?”

“To thank you. Thank you, by the way.”

“For the warning? I thought you said you had no intention of getting into anyone’s bed?”

“That’s correct.”

She regarded him thoughtfully, opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again.

“Unless you told me to,” he added.

Her eyebrows rose and a faint smile curled her lips, but then she looked away, down at the sewer. It was hardly a romantic distraction, so he decided to change the subject.

“So … you’re turning that wheel with magic?”

“That’s right.”

“It must get boring after a while.”

“I find it relaxing.” She looked up and sighed. “Sometimes too relaxing.”

“Shall I stay and keep you entertained?”

She smiled. “If you have the time. I don’t want to keep you away from the Care Room.”

He shook his head. “Kalia said to stay away for a few hours.”

Tyvara made a rude noise. “She’s not the only one who knows the recipes for cures. It would be stupid to have only one person know that sort of thing.”

“It would.” Lorkin shrugged. “But I suppose if I’m not willing to share Guild healing secrets then why should she share hers? Besides, it does give me some free time to come and see you. Even if I’m not supposed to.”

She smiled. “If we’re discovered, we claim you did all the talking, and I never said a word.”

“We can. Or that if you said anything, I never heard it. Are you sure anybody will understand what we mean, rather than assume I was just being a typical male?”

She laughed. “I can’t promise that, but I’m sure we’ll get our real meaning across eventually.”

“We might get snow tonight,” Rothen said.

Sonea glanced at him, then grimaced. “First snow of the year. When I see it, I can’t help remember the Purge. Even after all these years.”

He nodded. “I do, too.”

“You know, there are adults who never experienced it.”

“Who will never appreciate how horrible it was – and that’s a good thing.”

“Yes. You want your children to take it for granted that they have a better life than you, but at the same time you hope they don’t take it for granted in case they let bad things return out of ignorance.”

“Such worries turn us into boring old men and women,” Rothen said, then sighed.

Sonea narrowed her eyes at him. “Who is calling who ‘old’?”

He chuckled and said nothing. She smiled and looked back at the University building. How long had it been since she’d noticed the elaborate façade that had once awed her? I’m taking wonderful things for granted, too.

“Here they come,” Rothen murmured.

Turning back, Sonea saw that the Guild Gates were opening. A carriage waited behind them. Soon the entrance was clear and the horses stirred into motion, hauling the vehicle through and along the road to the University steps.

The driver drew the horses to a stop. The carriage swayed and settled, then the door opened and a familiar robed figure leaned out and grinned at them.

“Nice of you to wait up for me,” Dorrien said. He clambered down, then turned and reached out, taking a gloved hand that emerged from the doorway. A sleeve appeared and a woman’s head. She peered out, blinking first at Sonea, then at Rothen.

A look of recognition came into Alina’s eyes as she saw her husband’s father, and she smiled faintly. She looked at Sonea again and a line between her eyebrows deepened. Her gaze dropped to Sonea’s robes and she schooled her expression into a serious one.

Dorrien helped her to the ground, then offered the same assistance to his two daughters. The eldest, Tylia, emerged first. She favoured her mother in looks, Sonea noted. Yilara, the younger, ignored her father’s offered hand and jumped down the steps nimbly. And that one favours Dorrien , Sonea mused.

Introductions and welcomes followed. Sonea was amused to find that Alina said nothing in response to her greeting, then busied herself checking that her daughters were presentable. Once satisfied, she took Dorrien’s arm and looked at Sonea with an expression that was almost defiant.

I wonder what I’m doing wrong , Sonea thought . Or if there’s something about me that she finds off-putting. She resisted the urge to laugh bitterly at her thoughts. Well, there are these black robes and the magic they represent.