Being dressed all in black had been an advantage when Sonea had slipped out of the mansion in the early hours of the morning, but now that the sun was up she was all too visible against the pale walls of the Sachakan capital.
At least I’m closer to the centre of the city.
As dawn had arrived, she’d chosen another mansion with a tower to hide in. The side door she’d slipped through hadn’t been locked, but she’d discovered the building wasn’t completely empty when she’d heard voices from somewhere inside. When she’d tried to leave, a quick check of the outside revealed a group of men hurrying along the street, so she’d crept back through the house as silently as she could. She’d found the stairs and ascended to the tower, telling herself that if she heard anyone coming up she would climb out of one of the tower windows and escape across the rooftop outside.
Hours had passed and the only sound she’d heard below had been distant and muffled. The tower windows were open, perhaps to let in the cool morning breeze. From the street below she’d heard footsteps and more voices, but the city was mostly quiet.
The windows looked onto the furthest side of the street below and a sea of rooftops. It’s tempting to slip out and find a better vantage point. But the risk of being seen isn’t worth it. I don’t know where the fight is going to be. Once it started there should be noises and lights to tell her where it was located. I’ll be able to move closer then. Perhaps go across the rooftops, like Cery and I used to do, back when we were children of the slums…
“The view’s no better here,” a voice said behind her.
She jumped and spun around. Regin stood near the top of the stairs, arms crossed. Embarrassment at being found, then a selfish relief that he was here, was followed by a flash of concern and annoyance.
“Regin!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged and uncrossed his arms. “I followed you, of course, though I got stuck downstairs for the last few hours, hiding from the people down there. They just left, by the way.”
“You told me you wouldn’t come with me. We had an agreement.”
“I lied.” He shrugged again and continued up the stairs. “I knew you wouldn’t take my power if I didn’t agree to stay behind. Besides, you lied too. You told the Traitors you would stay put.”
“That’s different. I should be able to trust another Guild magician to keep his word. And they left without telling us.”
“I think the Guild would disapprove more of you risking making the Traitors an enemy than of me ignoring you. I’m only trying to protect you.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You can’t. If we’re attacked, I will have to protect you. All you are is another person I have to worry about. You could get us both killed.”
He smiled, not bothered by her brutal honesty and she found herself wondering if she was attracted to him because he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her. “Protecting one person won’t take more power than protecting two.” His gaze moved to the window, and she could not help following it. “Is Dannyl in place yet?”
Sonea reached into her robe for Osen’s ring. “I don’t know.”
“You haven’t contacted Osen yet?”
“I did earlier. Nothing was happening. I didn’t want to keep the ring on in case someone came up the stairs and I was too distracted to notice.”
“No need to worry about that now. I can keep watch.” He chuckled. “See? You do need me.”
Biting back a retort, she felt her fingers close on the ring. She drew it out, slipped it on her finger and sought Osen and Dannyl’s minds.
Peering around the corner of the building, Dannyl searched the street and was relieved to see it was empty. Beckoning to Tayend and Merria, he stepped out and hurried forward. Their footsteps and breathing told him they followed close behind.
So far the only people they’d seen roaming the city were slaves and a carriage driven by a man too well dressed to be a slave. All had been in a hurry. All had been moving away from the centre of the city, whereas Dannyl and his companions were moving inward.
Unfortunately, what made Ashaki’s home attractive also made it dangerous: its proximity to the wide parade leading to the palace. Getting close enough to see the battle also meant getting close to the very people he’d been warned to stay away from.
But we should be fine, once we get there. Once we’re inside and out of sight.
He’d always been aware of the prestigious location of Achati’s house, but had never been in any rooms on the parade side. Master’s Rooms and private suites were usually central, and did not have windows. Sachakans preferred privacy and to be away from the heat of the summer sun over nice views.
He reached a larger thoroughfare — one that joined to the parade. Achati’s house was on the corner. After checking that the street was empty, he led the others around the corner. Keeping close to the wall on one side, he tried to walk softly and quickly. Even so, the rap of his and Merria’s boots echoed in the street.
Tayend’s shoes made little more than a soft tap, he noted. As if to make up for that, the buttons and clasps of his elaborate courtier garb clinked and chimed as he moved. The noise would normally be unnoticeable, but in the eerie quiet it sounded like… He frowned as he tried to think of a comparable racket. Like the rattle of roughly handled cutlery.
A door across the street opened and he froze. He heard Merria stop and out of the corner of his eye he saw Tayend casting about for somewhere to hide, but it was too late. A man emerged, looked up and, as he saw them, he stopped.
Ashaki. Dannyl’s heart pounded. The man stared at them, then he straightened and started toward them.
“Run?” Merria asked quietly.
Dannyl shook his head. To run would make them look guilty. To show fear would make it obvious they had reason to. Warrior lessons from long ago repeated in his mind. You can’t tell how strong another magician is, nor he you. A confident attitude will give your adversary reason to doubt he is stronger, even if all evidence points to him being so. Following the other man’s lead, he straightened his back and walked forward to meet him.
The man was about sixty, Dannyl estimated. Grey streaked his hair and the typical Sachakan broadness was well softened by fat.
“You are the Ambassadors from the Guild House?” the man asked briskly. He was tense, Dannyl noticed. In a hurry. Perhaps I can use that to my advantage.
“We are,” Dannyl said slowly and with formality. “I am Guild Ambassador Dannyl.” He gestured to Tayend. “This is Elyne Ambassador Tayend. And this-” he turned to Merria.
The man cut him off. “Why are you not at the Guild House? You do know what is about to occur? You may be heading toward a magical battle.”
“I have been appraised of the situation,” Dannyl assured him. “I assure you, we do not intend to get in the-”
“Then why are you here?”
“We were offered a safer alternative to the Guild House.” That much was true. Achati had told him there was a ship waiting.
The man frowned. “Here? Close to the palace. How can here be safer?”
Dannyl shrugged. “The Traitors are unlikely to get this far.”
That had the desired effect. The man’s chin lifted. “Yes. Of course. Well, then. It is not far to the palace and I am heading that way. I will escort you there.”
Uh, oh. The last place Dannyl wanted to be was among the Ashaki, if they started to lose and were desperate for more power. He ducked his head in apology.
“I’m afraid we aren’t going to the palace. Both of our rulers are keen to avoid any impression of interference by the Guild.” Then, knowing the man was not going to let them wander off without knowing their destination, especially after mentioning the possibility of interference, he added: “We are going to Ashaki Achati’s house.”
The man’s eyebrows rose, then he nodded. “I will take you to the door.”
He strode away, his strides long and fast. Dannyl followed, relying on the sound of Merria’s footsteps and Tayend’s noisy buttons to tell him they were keeping up. The temptation to look back and meet Tayend’s eyes was strong, but he resisted. Looking confident meant also looking as though he was in charge.
Peering over the Ashaki’s shoulder, he saw movement. A crowd large enough to block the broad street had gathered, and probably filled the parade beyond. Men in trousers and short coats stood watching something within the parade that Dannyl couldn’t see. Precious stones glittered in the sunlight. Ashaki. Many, many Ashaki. At any moment one is going to look up, see us and draw the attention of the others to us. What will happen then? He could not help imagining a horde of them coming at him, ready to harvest power from the three foreigners.
But none did. As the self-appointed escort neared the door of Achati’s house the crowd began to move. The Ashaki army was leaving. Dannyl hoped this would persuade the escort to abandon them, but the man only scowled and stepped up to the door. He rapped on it.
A long silence followed. The Ashaki rapped again. As time stretched, Dannyl felt his heart beating fast. Achati would be with the king. The slaves had probably gone. What would the escort do when it became clear nobody was going to answer? The man knocked a third time, waited, sighed, then turned to face Dannyl.
Then, as his mouth opened to speak, the door swung inward. A slave peered out.
“Ambassador Dannyl.”
Tayend let out an in-held breath and Merria sighed. The Ashaki turned to look back at the slave, then at Dannyl, then towards the parade. Following his gaze, Dannyl saw the last of the Ashaki stride out of sight behind the building opposite.
“Thank you, Ashaki…”
The man didn’t offer his name. He took a step back. “Stay out of sight,” he advised, then he turned and broke into a run.
Dannyl looked at Tayend and Merria. Their eyes were wide as they stared back at him. “Let’s get inside.”
The slave didn’t protest as they pushed through the door. Once all were in the Master’s Room he threw himself on the floor. Hearing a movement, Dannyl saw another slave on the floor near another corridor. He looked from one to the other and frowned. Why were these two still here?
“Stand up,” he ordered. The pair obeyed. “What are your names?”
“Lak.”
“Vata.”
“Why haven’t you left with the rest of the city’s slaves?”
Lak glanced at Vata. “He may need us,” he said.
“He” must be Achati. Dannyl felt a wry admiration for their loyalty.
“What’s the best place we can see the parade from?” Tayend asked.
Vata looked up. “The roof.”
Tayend’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Dannyl. “Well?”
Dannyl nodded. “Then take us there.”
Traitors filled the street, milling before the mansion’s gates. Lorkin and Tyvara had found their way out through a slave’s entrance to a side street and hurried around to the front of the building where the Traitors were gathering. Looking around, Lorkin noted that half of the fighters were women, half men. Magicians and sources. All wore vests like his. For most of the men, the stones will be their only source of magic, he realised. Non-magicians participating in battle. That must be a first.
Just before the crowd swelled to fill the space between the houses, Lorkin glimpsed the street stretching on towards the centre of the city. It might have been his imagination, but in the distance the street appeared to be blocked by a shadow. And that shadow seemed to be moving.
Calls for quiet settled the crowd and he realised a familiar voice was coming from somewhere in the centre.
“… protect all. We must all stay together. Our strength is in our unity and purpose. We are united. The Ashaki are not. We have prepared ourselves for centuries. The Ashaki have not. We have the support of the slaves. The Ashaki do not. And we have stones.”
Taller than most Traitors, Lorkin looked over their heads in the direction of the voice and saw Savara standing higher than the crowd, visible to all.
“Can you see her? We have to get to her,” Tyvara whispered in his ear.
“She’s over by the gates.”
Grabbing his hand, she pulled him around the crowd to the wall of the mansion. Savara’s voice grew louder as they neared, filled with confidence and passion.
“Do not spare the stones. This is what they were made for. Tools for breaking bonds, for making our future, for making everyone equal. To bring freedom to Sachaka.”
“Freedom!” the Traitors shouted.
Lorkin’s heart jumped at the unexpected noise. The second time it came, he was ready for it and this time his pulse quickened at the building excitement. Once at the wall, Tyvara wove through people gazing at their queen with rapt expressions. Finally they broke through the crowd to find the queen standing on a cart, surrounded by the Speakers, just as her speech ended.
“Today we bring Sachakans together, united in freedom!” she finished.
“Freedom!” everyone shouted again. It became a chant as Savara stepped down from the cart and strode forward, the crowd parting to let her through. The Speakers hurried after, and Tyvara all but dove forward, dragging Lorkin after her so that they joined the Speakers before the Traitors fell in behind them.
They reached Savara just as the queen left the crowd. The Speakers moved out to either side, forming a line across the street. Chaos finally shifted into order as the Traitors moved to follow the Speakers who led their teams. Tyvara looked around, then over each shoulder.
“I can’t see Kalia,” she hissed. “You?”
“No.” Lorkin shook his head as he sought the woman.
“Oh, she’s staying behind,” a voice said to his left. He looked over to see that Chari, the woman who had helped them escape to Sanctuary, had appeared beside him. “Ready to treat the injured.”
“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” Tyvara muttered. “Now we only have to deal with them.”
Following her gaze, Lorkin looked past the queen’s shoulder to see that he hadn’t been imagining it: the street beyond was blocked by another crowd several paces away and marching rapidly closer. Sunlight glinted off jewelled jackets.
All those gemstones. I wonder… Lorkin thought. Did the Ashaki of the distant past decorate their clothing with magical stones? Has the tradition persisted though the knowledge of stone-making was lost?
Though only moving at a walk, the two armies seemed to rush towards each other. Lorkin realised his heart was racing. This is it. Either I’ll be alive at the end of this, or not. Curse it — I was going to contact Mother. All around him, Traitors were reaching into their vests for the first stones. Too late now. Taking a deep breath, Lorkin did the same, taking one strike and one shield stone. As Tyvara moved to the queen’s right side, he stepped up to take his place on the left.
The gap between the two armies shrank from a few hundred paces to less than a hundred. The Queen held up a stone, ready to strike. The Speakers did the same. Looking at the enemy, Lorkin saw the determined faces of the Ashaki. Saw the scowls of hatred and the grins of anticipation. He saw the king and his blood went cold. The old man regarded the invaders of his city with a haughty stare. I’d like to personally smack that look off his At some signal Lorkin did not catch, both sides attacked. He could not tell who struck first. One moment the space between the armies was charged with expectation, the next it sizzled with magic. He automatically pressed on the shield stone and felt it activate and bounce against that held by the queen and the Speaker to his left until it settled between them. Savara was attacking, but Tyvara only held her strike stone at the ready, as she had instructed him to do. They would join the battle later; for now they were to protect the queen.
Both sides had come to a halt. Lorkin fought the urge to flinch away from the dangerous forces streaking between them. They did not even attempt to address each other, he realised. Not even to throw insults. According to history books, leaders of armies always invited the enemy to surrender. Not this time.
It’s not that the Traitors and Ashaki believe the other side would never accept. It’s because they aren’t offering. Each side means to eradicate the other. To kill every last Traitor or Ashaki. He shivered. Even the Ichani offered to let the Guild give in and avoid a battle.
Not striking meant he had the opportunity to watch. The Ashaki stood unmoving, whereas the Traitors were in constant motion. He had been fascinated by the method of battle they’d developed and was keen to see it in action. The queen and Speakers remained at the front and he and Tyvara stayed as the queen’s protectors. The rest of the Traitors formed columns behind the Speakers. As each reached the front they moved to stand beside a Speaker. If they took a place to the left of the Speaker, they shielded the front line; if they moved to the right, they used a strike stone. When their stone was depleted they retreated to the end of the column to let others have their turn.
This ensured that most Traitors weakened at the same rate, and that most stones were used before the magicians of the army began using their own store of power. It was much easier to respond quickly to abrupt and unexpected attacks with personal magic than with stones, so it was held in reserve.
Warning shouts came from behind. Lorkin looked back. Something was going on to the right of the Traitor army.
“What’s happening?” Savara asked.
Traitors in the columns to the right were calling out to each other. The ones closest turned to relay what they were hearing to Tyvara. Lorkin caught snatches of their report.
“Attack from the right,” Tyvara repeated. “Seven Ashaki. All dealt with.”
Lorkin saw Savara smile in relief and satisfaction and felt a small surge of triumph.
The Ashaki are fools if they think we’re not ready for this sort of attack.
“Lorkin,” Tyvara hissed.
He turned to see her frowning in worry. She jerked her head and flicked her eyes back towards the Traitor army, at the same time silently mouthing a word. His blood went cold.
Kalia.
Twisting around, he searched the faces in the columns behind her, but saw no sign of the woman. Maybe Tyvara saw someone who looked a bit like Kalia. No, she doesn’t not look at all doubtful. So where is Kalia?
Not behind Tyvara. He turned to look at the Traitors behind him and his heart turned to ice. Kalia was just a few steps away, slipping into the closest column where a Traitor was distracted, fiddling with his vest. Lorkin gasped out her name, drew magic and threw up a shield behind himself, Savara and Tyvara. It bumped up against another, and he realised Tyvara had already done the same.
“Kalia?” Savara said, her voice full of surprise. She turned to face the woman. Traitors stared in surprise as their leader’s attention shifted from the enemy. Strikes burst against Savara’s shield, but she seemed unconcerned as she faced Kalia. “What are you doing here?”
Kalia looked around at all the faces watching and paled. “I came to help.”
“I gave you an order,” Savara reminded her, an edge of annoyance and forced patience in her voice.
Kalia paused. The battle raged on. The air before Savara vibrated as the attack on her shield increased, the Ashaki hoping her distraction was a sign of weakness. The Traitors stepping up to fight did so without hesitation, while those who retreated did so a touch slower, eyeing Kalia and the queen with interest.
“But you need every-” Kalia began.
“I need you to follow orders.” Savara’s tone and expression were cold now. “How do expect to regain our trust if you will not do what you are told?” She turned away. “Go to the back and stay there.”
As Kalia retreated, Savara leaned toward Lorkin.
“What is she thinking?”
He concentrated. As before, he picked up few words, but disappointment radiated from her. Not the annoyance or anger of a foiled plan, though. Kalia’s sense of failure was laced with fear and shame. Dislike still filled her, but not murderous intent.
“I don’t think she was planning anything,” he said.
Savara nodded. “Shield me.”
“Already am,” he heard Tyvara say quietly. “Someone should go back and keep an eye on her.”
Savara shook her head. “No. It is us she hates. She will not deliberately harm other Traitors.” Her gaze was fixed on the Ashaki. She took a step forward. A moment later the Speakers followed suit. Looking ahead, Lorkin saw some of the Ashaki shuffle backwards. A ripple of excitement went through the Traitors.
Savara chuckled. “Either they’re weakening, losing confidence, or are leading us into a trap.”
“What do we do?” Tyvara asked.
“See which one it is,” the queen answered. “It’s time you made use of your strike stones. If we spot a trap and you suddenly start striking, we’ll warn them that we know what they’re up to. I’d rather leave them guessing whether we’ve noticed it for as long as possible.”
Smiling, she took a longer step forward, and then another.