Squinting at the dark smudge on the road ahead, Lorkin wasn’t able to make out much more than the impression of movement. Looks like a group of people on horseback. He glanced at Savara. The queen’s attention was on the road so she could not have missed them, yet she did not look concerned.
He turned to Tyvara, riding beside him, catching her shifting her weight in the saddle and grimacing. Seeing him notice, she smiled. “Only been a few hours and I’m chafing already.”
Ex-slaves had given them horses at one of the estates they’d freed that morning. “Freed” simply meant walking in and executing the Ashaki owners and his magician brethren. Often the men had no more warning of an imminent attack than their slaves suddenly disappearing. Though they all put up a fight, most of them obviously weren’t in the habit of keeping their store of magic well boosted. Why would they? They’re not Ichani, constantly under threat from other black magicians. They probably only stock up on power when they need it for a particular task. It made their death seem less like casualties of war. More like murders.
It feels like we’re breaking into these people’s homes and killing husbands, sons and fathers, not waging a war. If we faced them in a unified front we’d still be killing husbands, sons and fathers, but it would seem justified. Yet the Traitors weren’t triumphant victors, casually or vengefully killing off the families, looting and torturing. If they had been, Lorkin might have regretted his decision to join them. Instead they were merciful and efficient.
But ruthless.
He thought of the gemstone his mother had given him.
He reminded himself that his father had extracted a promise from Zarala that the Traitors would end slavery. His father had wanted this to happen. Every time Lorkin doubted, or lost courage, he looked to the newly freed slaves, and told himself this was all for a good cause.
He had expected the Traitors would encounter better-prepared Ashaki once the invasion began, but it was clear each was surprised by the attack. Perhaps those killed earlier were too occupied in their own defence to send a warning to others. Perhaps they relied on slaves to send messages, but the slaves who supported the Traitors ensured that those loyal to their masters did not leave to warn others.
Eventually a warning would get through, Lorkin knew. Maybe an Ashaki would mentally send a warning, either broadcasting it or communicating through a blood ring. Even if Savara’s team managed to kill them before they got the chance, other teams might not. Once the news got ahead of the advancing Traitors, nothing would stop it spreading to the city. When it did, the Traitors would not be attacking one or two magicians at each estate, but an army of them. Which was why the shadow on the road ahead had set his heart racing.
He focused on Tyvara’s mind and sensed eager expectation, with only a small pang of worry. No more Traitors have died, he caught. But it won’t be long… She noticed him frowning at her, and smiled.
“Don’t worry. It’s just another team. As we all get closer to the city, teams will meet and join up.”
Relieved, he turned to watch as the other Traitors approached. Shadows resolved into figures on horseback. Riders became women and men. Faces became recognisable. He heard Tyvara curse at the same time as he realised one face was familiar.
“What is she doing here?” he muttered.
Tyvara sighed. “Kalia’s punishment was suspended for the duration of the invasion,” she told him. “As was mine. It would be unfortunate if we lost, but for the power of two magicians.”
He watched as Kalia’s eyes moved over Savara’s group, then her expression turned sour as she saw him and Tyvara.
“We are all on the same side,” Tyvara said. “But I do wish Kalia had been put in a team attacking the opposite side of the city,” she added in a lower tone.
Savara turned to look at them both. “I will be keeping an eye on her. And an ear.” She looked back at the approaching team and urged her horse forward to meet them. To Lorkin’s relief, the woman who came to meet her was not Kalia. It was Speaker Halana, leader of the stone-makers.
“At least she’s not leading the team,” he said.
Tyvara chuckled. “We aren’t that stupid.”
Halana placed a hand over her heart briefly, then took hold of the reins again to guide her horse to a stop next to Savara’s mount.
“Any news?” Savara asked.
“We’ve lost Vilanya and Sarva,” Halana replied. “They were ambushed.”
“So the Ashaki are warned.”
“Most likely. Any trouble?”
“A few slaves getting a little too eager,” Savara replied. She sighed. “Those in one estate killed an entire family and the head slave, who was one of our allies. I told them this isn’t our intention, but I don’t think they were listening.”
Halana nodded. “There will be more trouble of that kind. I have been hinting that we want to deal with the families ourselves, later.”
“That might work, so long as they don’t take on the role of jailor too enthusiastically.” Savara looked around. “Let’s continue.”
The two groups mingled to become one. Lorkin noted that Kalia positioned herself so that Savara and Halana were between her and Tyvara. The two leaders discussed what they would do if freed slaves were unable to provide the Traitors with food. Not long had passed when Savara suddenly spoke loud enough for all to hear.
“What is this problem you are discussing, Kalia?”
Lorkin looked over to see the woman glance at him, then back at the queen. Her back straightened.
“We have a non-Traitor among us. I was merely advising Cyria that she be careful.”
“Cyria need not be wary of anybody here. We are all Traitors.”
“Lorkin is Kyralian.”
“Kyralian born. Now a Traitor. There are ex-slaves and women who were formerly wives and sisters of the Ashaki among us. All chose to join us. All are needed.”
“But he is a Guild magician, and a man.”
Savara smiled. “If my meeting with his mother had achieved its purpose, we would be marching toward Arvice along with many hundred Guild magicians, among them quite a few men. Would so much masculine company alarm you, Kalia?”
“Of course not! Though I would not so easily trust them, as you might.” Kalia gave Savara a sidelong look. “So… the Guild won’t go to war with the Ashaki. And he is still here? Are you sure he isn’t a spy?”
“I am sure.”
“Do you really expect…?” Kalia fell silent as one of the Traitors at the rear called Savara’s name. All turned to see the man pointing back along the road. Several hundred strides back, a cloud of dust billowed up behind a rider galloping toward them.
“Stop,” Savara ordered. “And shield.”
It was not long before the rider reached them, the horse slowing to a walk, sides heaving and dark with sweat. The rider was a young man wearing fine clothing, but his build and colouring suggested he was an ex-slave.
“Queen Savara,” he said, placing a hand over his heart briefly. “I have been sent to warn you that two Kyralians are following you.” He paused to think. “Black Magician Sonea and Asha — Lord Regin. We tried to keep them at the estate, but they disobeyed our order to stay and forced their way out with magic.”
Lorkin suppressed a sigh. He should have expected it. But if I couldn’t let Tyvara go to war without me, why would I expect my mother to do the same?
“Was anyone hurt?”
The man shook his head.
Kalia muttered something. Savara stared at the woman through narrowed eyes. Then she turned to Lorkin, her eyebrows rising in question.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t say she was planning to follow me — us.”
“Spy,” Kalia said.
The queen scowled. “Enough, Kalia.” She looked around the group, her gaze settling on two of the Traitors, one male and one female. “Saral, Temi. Go meet Black Magician Sonea and ask her to explain herself.” She reached into a pouch at her waist and drew out a ring. As she tossed it to the woman, a glint of yellow reflected the sunlight. “Use this to tell me what they say.”
The pair nodded and, frowing with obvious annoyance at the task, rode away with the messenger. Savara nudged her horse into a walk and set her gaze on the road ahead. In grim silence, the two teams continued, heading for the next estate, and the next battle.
Lilia drew in a deep breath and sighed it out again as she set pen to paper and tried to make sense of her notes from the morning’s Healing demonstration. Though the number of subjects she was studying had been reduced and her graduation delayed, she still found it hard to concentrate at times like these.
It was easier to be motivated when I thought I might choose the Healing discipline. Now that I won’t get to choose a discipline at all, what’s the point? She’d be a black magician, and it was more important that she was ready to fight than Heal. Not that I’ve suddenly become enthusiastic about Warrior lessons. But these new lessons with Kallen have been interesting. Perhaps because there is a lot we can discover about black magic. It’s not as though the Guild has been studying it for centuries and knows everything about it.
This morning’s Healing demonstration had been on a man who had been stabbed accidentally during a sword-fighting lesson. The wooden practice sword had pierced the toughened leather armour, but hadn’t penetrated deeply. It was a rare occurrence. A slash with a sword usually slid across the armour, and stabs weren’t supposed to be made with full force. But he’d been leaping toward his fighting partner, who had been angry and used more force than he’d realised.
A quick, forceful stab, she thought. Which is what I want to do with magic, instead of using a knife, to break the skin’s natural barrier before using black magic to take power. Something caught her attention, and she looked up to find the teacher watching her. She realised she had been staring at nothing, her notes forgotten. And thinking about how to kill someone with black magic.
Other faces turned toward her, but she ignored them. When she’d entered the University that morning, and then the Foodhall later, the stares and whispering of other novices had been almost as bad as when she’d first returned to the University. Most likely Bokkin had said something about her lesson with Kallen. Not the truth, of course. Bokkin wouldn’t want to admit he’d got himself into a situation where his mind had been read, so he had probably made something up. She wished Kallen had said what he wanted from Bokkin in front of the other novices. Then they would know she’d read Bokkin’s mind, and if she revealed anything about him he couldn’t deny it was true.
Not that I’m going to be telling people what I saw in his mind, she thought. It just seems wrong. Though Bokkin hadn’t been tricked or coerced, and he could have left at any time. He could claim otherwise. He can’t accuse Kallen or me of anything, because he’d have to let a magician read his mind to confirm it. Still, he could insinuate that something else happened.
She considered his plan — his need — to weaken others before they became stronger than him. If he didn’t like anyone being stronger than him, then he was never going to be happy. He was surrounded by stronger magicians and, since his magical strength was average, he always would be.
Maybe he’ll go somewhere else, once he graduates. Somewhere everyone else is weaker. She shuddered. What would he do in order to assure himself that he was the strongest, and make sure others knew it, too? Someone needs to keep an eye on him. Perhaps Kallen would, or the other Higher Magicians. Or her. One day she would be a Higher Magician. She could end up being the one who had to watch Bokkin.
“Lady Lilia.”
Her heart skipped as she realised she had been staring at nothing again. The teacher didn’t stare disapprovingly, however. She pointed toward the door. Following the woman’s gaze, Lilia saw a familiar face and felt her heart jump again.
Jonna. The servant beckoned.
Rising from her seat, Lilia bowed to the teacher, then slipped between the desks and out of the room.
“What is it?” she asked as Jonna glanced up and down the corridor.
“Anyi was in Sonea’s rooms,” she said. “She said there might be an intruder down… you know where.”
Lilia caught her breath. “How long ago?”
“She’d been waiting for a time, but I’m not sure how long. Took me a while to find which classroom you were in.”
“I should hurry…” Lilia took a step down the corridor, then stopped. “I should go the other way. It’ll be faster. Could you go back and tell her?”
Jonna shook her head. “She went straight back.” The servant frowned. “If you mean the way I think you mean… I’ll come and make sure nobody sees you using it.”
“Thanks, Jonna.” Lilia headed toward a side passage and led Jonna deeper into the University. When they reached the hidden door Anyi had unblocked, Jonna moved to the next side corridor and peered down it.
She nodded. “All clear. Be careful,” she whispered.
“I will,” Lilia told her. Then she pulled the lever that opened the door, and stepped into the darkness beyond.
“It’s incredible to think that all these people were slaves,” Regin said.
“Yes,” Sonea agreed.
They had just crested a long, low hill. Before them, the road stretched in a nearly straight line and was busy with people and carts — even the occasional fancy carriage. At first she had wondered what reason the former slaves had for roaming about, other than to exercise their newfound freedom to go where they wanted. Surely it made sense to take over the estates they had worked on, so that they would have food and shelter.
Then they’d witnessed the reunion between two women, one older and one younger, and realised they were mother and daughter. A young woman cried out with joy as she was handed a baby by a man. Two young men hurried to meet each other, calling out “brother!” Couples of all ages embraced, walked and talked with each other.
Their masters may have forbidden them to marry, she thought. They may have bred them like domestic animals, but they could not stop them from feeling the bonds of love and family, despite slavery existing here for more than a thousand years.
“I always believed slavery was wrong and was proud Kyralia ended it as soon as we were free to,” Regin said. “But that happened centuries ago. We Kyralians never really comprehended it, because we never saw it for ourselves.”
Sonea nodded. Looking at Regin, she felt an unexpected affection. If the Traitors lose, then at least I got the chance to see the compassion and humility in him.
“Perhaps that’s why we failed to end it,” he continued, “when we conquered Sachaka. It had been too long since we’d endured it ourselves.”
Sonea shook her head. “But it had only been a few hundred years since Kyralia and Elyne regained their independence and ended slavery.”
“Enough time for those who knew what it was like to die of old age, and the concept to become an abstract idea to their descendants.”
“And yet we still have an aversion to it, passed down for a further seven hundred years.”
“Only because it is something we associated with Sachakans.”
Sonea chuckled darkly. “Ah, yes. Because that made them hateful, which made us morally superior. Never underestimate the pleasure of seeing faults in others.”
Regin turned to frown at her. “You don’t think slavery is-”
“Of course not. I just wish we’d done this when we had the chance.” She gestured to the people before them. “And that the Allied Lands had accepted the Traitors’ invitation.”
“You’d have us go to war, when most of us are too weak to make a difference?”
“Yes. But in our own way.”
Regin looked at her, then his eyes widened. “By the Guild giving you and Kallen all our power.”
“Which I have taken already. All we had to do was prepare and send for Kallen.”
“Or Lilia?” Regin frowned. “No… she is too young.”
“Not much younger than I was when I fought in my first war, but yes, I wouldn’t wish that on her and we shouldn’t risk losing all magicians with knowledge of black magic.”
Regin smiled. “Though it appears it can be learned from a book, after all.”
“Yes.” Sonea sighed. “I suspect the Guild will lose its battle against black magic soon. If the Traitors win it’ll be even harder to
…” She paused as she saw a couple on horseback riding toward them. They wore Traitor garb, and looked familiar. The pair were looking at her and Regin. “Those two look like they’re coming to meet us.”
Regin squinted against the bright sunlight. “And they don’t look surprised to see us either. I expect someone has told them we didn’t go home.”
They watched as the pair drew closer. A man and a woman, Sonea noted. Is she the magician and he a source of power? she wondered. Or did the Traitors train their men to use magic so they could fight? A few strides away, the couple turned their horses to block Sonea’s path.
“Black Magician Sonea,” the woman said. “Lord Regin. I am Saral, this is Temi. Queen Savara asks why you have not returned home.”
Sonea paused as if to consider her answer. She had expected the question, but didn’t want her answer to seem too well rehearsed.
“The Guild is obliged to ensure its members will be safe, when in other lands,” she told them. “I am here to ensure our Healers will not be in danger.”
The woman’s eyes went blank, then focused on Sonea again. “We will make sure all Guild magicians entering Sachaka are unharmed.”
“So you have the time to patrol the roads, and have Traitors free to act as guards and escorts, at the same time as fighting the Ashaki? I would rather you put your resources into achieving your aims.” Sonea stepped forward until she was looking up at Saral, addressing the woman she knew was watching her through the ring Saral was wearing. “Not the least because you have my son with you,” she added, lowering and hardening her tone. “Do you really expect me to go home? I am one magician, and no threat to you or your people, Queen Savara.” She smiled. “Whether you have Lorkin with you or not.”
Saral’s chin lifted, then her gaze flickered away again and she scowled. Her face fell and she looked down at Sonea.
“You may continue to Arvice,” she said. “On the condition that you do not enter the city before we do, and you do not side with the Ashaki. I can’t guarantee your safety if you get in the way, and if you or your lover influence the battle against us you will both be killed.”
Sonea inclined her head. “I give you my word that we will keep to these conditions.”
Saral’s lips thinned and her shoulders slumped. “Temi and I will escort you,” she said. Beside her, Temi made a small noise of protest.
Sonea nodded again. “Thank you. For the sake of avoiding embarrassment, I should point out that you are wrong in one matter.”
“What?” Saral’s eyes narrowed.
“Lord Regin is not my lover.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose into a disbelieving expression. She said nothing in reply, instead turning her horse so that it faced the way she had come. Temi did the same, smirking as he moved to take a position on the other side of Sonea. Regin stepped forward to stand beside Sonea. He met her eyes briefly.
“Traitors like gossip as much as everyone else,” he murmured, smiling.
Sonea shrugged and started walking. Such gossip could be dangerous. An enemy, thinking they were a couple, might try to harm Regin in order to blackmail her. But, as she’d hinted to Savara through Saral, if the Traitors wanted to blackmail her, they already had Lorkin. Still… Regin would be a better target, if Tyvara cares for Lorkin and Savara cares about Tyvara’s feelings.
She looked at Regin, and he turned to meet her gaze. If he was worried, he was keeping it well hidden. His eyebrows rose in question, then his mouth twitched into a small, secretive smile. She looked away. Anyone watching him would think we were a couple. She looked back at the days they’d spent together since leaving Imardin. It had been a relief to find they got along with each other. That she didn’t mind his company, and he didn’t seem to mind hers. But what was it that others saw to make them think more was going on? I’m not doing anything, she thought. Is it Regin, then? Surely…
She shook her head. No. He’s not in love with me. Don’t be ridiculous.
But what if he was? She thought back. Tried to remember everything he’d said. Tried to recall how he’d spoken to her, behaved around her, looked at her. She remembered how she had started to ask herself the same question before, in the carriage after leaving the Fort. What had he said to make her wonder? That he had admired her for years.
Was he trying to tell me more? She shook her head again. Does it only seem that way now that I’m wondering about it?
She couldn’t ask him, because the Traitors would hear. But if an opportunity came to talk with Regin privately… The thought of it made her throat close up. I can’t do that. What if I’m wrong? It would be embarrassing for the both of us. Or would it be worse if I’m right? At least I’m sure I’m not in love with him.
A tangle of contradictory feelings and thoughts followed. It took all her self-control to keep her steps regular and her face calm. Then, as quickly as it had risen, the conflict ended, leaving her surprised and dismayed.
So. I do. No, I could. That’s different. The potential is there, but it isn’t so. Yet, she thought. But she wouldn’t say anything of it to Regin. And if he hinted of feelings for her she would have to discourage him. It’s not that I haven’t forgiven him. He’s become a person so much better than the novice I hated. It’s not that I haven’t got over Akkarin — well, got over him enough to love another. It’s not even that it makes Regin vulnerable, should someone seek to blackmail me. It’s because…
She felt a stab of annoyance. Why was it that the only men who showed any romantic interest in her had no right to? Not that she had any real proof of Regin’s interest. Which was just as well because, though Regin had parted from his wife, he was still legally married.