Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

The soap was strange. It contained grit, which scratched Dannyl’s skin and left red lines. As Achati stepped out of the pool, Dannyl noted that any such marks weren’t as noticeable on the Sachakan’s skin.

He finished scrubbing himself, then rose and followed Achati to the next pool.

This one was hot. Seats had been built into the sides. Dannyl felt his skin smart at the temperature. Achati did not stay there for long, but moved from pool to pool until he found one that he proclaimed the most comfortable.

“Hot enough?” he asked Dannyl.

Dannyl nodded. “Very.”

“Go on to the next one. I’ll stay here. We can claim one each and still chat.”

So Dannyl stepped down to the next pool, which was pleasantly warm. “Ah. Yes. That’s the one.” He settled into a seat alcove from which he could easily turn and talk to Achati. Though he was growing used to being unclothed, he had to admit to feeling a little relieved that they were now separated by the low wall of the upper pool.

Achati chuckled.

“What is it?” Dannyl asked, when his companion didn’t explain the source of his humour.

The Sachakan smiled crookedly. “You. I thought you’d turn and run.”

“From this?” Dannyl shrugged. “I’ll admit it’s a new experience, and not a completely comfortable one.”

“And yet you managed it. With me here, as well.”

Dannyl tried to think how best to answer that, but before he managed to, Achati continued.

“You’ve been doing very well keeping me at arm’s length.”

Dannyl couldn’t think of anything smart to say to that, either.

“Have I?” he managed.

“Yes. Having Tayend ask to come along was a clever move.”

Dannyl straightened in surprise and indignation. “I didn’t have Tayend ask to come along.” He scowled. “He came up with that idea all by himself.”

Achati’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Dannyl thoughtfully. “I think I believe you.”

“It’s true,” Dannyl told him, trying to avoid sounding offended, and not quite succeeding. “Though it’s also true I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length.”

“Why?”

Dannyl looked away and sighed. “Consequences. Conflicting loyalties. That sort of thing.”

“I see,” Achati said quietly. He was silent for a while, then suddenly rose and moved into Dannyl’s pool. Once settled, he sighed deeply. “That is better.” Then he looked at Dannyl. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, Ambassador Dannyl.”

Dannyl met Achati’s eyes. “Am I?”

“Yes. My loyalties lie first with Sachaka and my king.” Achati’s eyes flashed. “Yours are with Kyralia, your king, the Guild and the Allied Lands – though not necessarily in that order. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing should.” He smiled thinly. “Think of it this way: if my king ordered me to kill you, I would. Without hesitation.”

Dannyl stared at the man. Achati’s eyes were hard and his expression challenging. He means what he says, but then, wouldn’t I do the same, if we became enemies? Probably. I would feel bad about it, but … how likely is it? He pushed that thought aside. What is true is that I’d feel bad about it no matter how close we were, and it’s not that we could ever do anything to make others doubt our loyalties, like having children or getting married …

It wasn’t as if Achati wanted any commitment. For once, that appealed. While Dannyl ought to have been repelled by the man’s admission that he’d kill him if ordered to … it was strangely exciting.

“So … you wouldn’t hesitate? Not even a little bit?” he asked.

Achati smiled and pushed away from the wall, moving to the centre of the pool.

“Well, maybe a little bit. You could come here and convince me how long I should hesitate for.”

Chuckling at his friend’s invitation, Dannyl moved to the middle of the pool. For a few heartbeats they stared at each other. Time seemed to slow and stop.

Then both froze as muffled voices came from the direction of the bathhouse entrance. They quickly moved apart and stood up so they could see who was there. Dannyl was relieved to see the door was still closed.

The voices fell silent, then there was a tapping at the door. Achati glanced at Dannyl, his annoyance gratifyingly obvious. “I gave the slaves orders that we weren’t to be disturbed unless it was urgent.”

“You had better find out what’s wrong,” Dannyl replied.

Achati stepped out of the pool and brought a coat to him with magic. He shrugged into it and moved to the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened. Dannyl quickly schooled his face as he saw Tayend peer around it. The more annoyed I look, the more he’ll suspect. Inside he felt as if his blood was boiling with fury.

“Am I interrupting?” Tayend said. “The slaves said you were here, and after you said we had to try these baths it seemed rude not to come and see them.”

“Of course not,” Achati replied. He waved Tayend toward the cleansing bath and explained the procedure.

Then, as he walked back to join Dannyl, he smiled and silently mouthed a promise.

Later.

Not long after arriving at the Care Room, a magician came to escort Lorkin to the stone-makers’ caves. He was a little reluctant to leave, as the woman who had replaced Kalia was still working out where everything was stored and learning which ailments the patients occupying the beds were recovering from. But she shooed Lorkin away when the escort arrived.

“Go,” she’d ordered. “I will work it all out.”

“I’ll come back later,” he promised.

The magician escort had smiled shyly at him and said little as she led him to the caves. It was so unusual for a Traitor woman to be shy and awkward that he resisted trying to draw her into a conversation. If growing up in a place where women were powerful hadn’t helped to make her bold and confident, then the awkwardness must run very deep – and challenging it might do more harm than good.

She led him deep into the city, further inside the mountain than most Traitors liked to live. The passage became winding, and they passed openings into caves on either side. He’d figured it prudent not to show too much interest in them the last time he’d passed, when being escorted out of the cave Evar had shown him. Now he was free to glance inside.

The caves were of varying sizes and shapes. Some effort had obviously been put into levelling the floor in places, but the uneven and angular walls had obviously been left untouched. In a larger room, Lorkin noted that walkways had been fixed to the walls to allow access to higher parts of them.

In all of the caves he saw spreads of glittering colour, on walls, ceilings and even, in a few instances, on floors.

None of the caves had doors. It seemed a strange omission in a part of the city that contained such magical secrets. But perhaps the secrets can’t be extracted from the stones. Perhaps they can only be passed on mind to mind, like black magic. Or perhaps they were kept in books in a secure room somewhere.

The winding corridor ended at another cave. The guide continued through it, to where another cave joined it, then another. There had been fissures in the walls and floor of the passage, easily stepped over. Now they passed over bigger cracks via bridges made of slabs of the same stone as the walls.

And then they arrived at a door.

The escort knocked, then smiled at him and walked away quickly, before he could thank her. He turned back to find the door open. A voice called out.

“Come in Lorkin.”

He recognised the voice as Speaker Savara’s. Stepping inside the room, he saw that she and Speaker Halana were sitting in two seats of a ring of five. Savara gestured to one of the chairs, and he sat down.