The Ambassador's Mission

His gaze slid across their angry faces and he suddenly regretted speaking out. He needed to charm and woo these women, not anger them. But then his eyes met Savara’s. He saw her nod approvingly.

“Will you give us what your father promised?” Kalia demanded.

Instantly, the women quietened. They stared at him intently. They want Healing so badly, he thought. Why wouldn’t they? The desire to be protected from injury, disease and death is a powerful one. But they don’t realise how powerful the knowledge is. The advantage it gives over an enemy. How it can be used to harm as well as help.

“I am not authorised to do so,” he told them. “But I am willing to help you gain it, through negotiating an exchange with the Guild and the Allied Lands.”

“An exchange?” Riaya frowned. “For what?”

“For something of equal value.”

“We gave you higher magic!” Kalia exclaimed.

“Yes, you gave my father black magic,” Lorkin pointed out. “It is not new to the Guild, nor would they consider it a suitable exchange for Healing.”

Lorkin had expected more protest at this, but the women had fallen into thoughtful silence. Savara regarded him with narrowed eyes. Was that suspicion he read in them?

“What do we have that would be considered of equal value?” Riaya asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I only just got here.”

Kalia sighed loudly. “There is no point wasting time and energy fantasising about trades and alliances. Sanctuary’s location is a secret. We can’t have foreigners coming and going, for trade or otherwise.”

Riaya nodded. She looked at the women, then at Lorkin.

“We are not yet in a position to consider such matters as trade with the Guild. Did Savara warn you that you would not be allowed to leave if you came to Sanctuary?”

“She did.”

She turned to the speakers. “Do any of you see reason why this law should not apply to Lorkin?”

All shook their heads. Even Savara, he noticed. He felt his stomach sink.

“Do you accept this?” Riaya asked him.

He nodded. “I do.”

“Then you are now subject to the laws of Sanctuary. So you had better find out what they are and pay them the respect they deserve. This meeting is over.” Riaya looked at Savara. “Since you brought him in you are charged with ensuring he is obedient and useful.”

Savara nodded, then stood up and waved a hand to indicate he should follow. As they walked out of the room, Lorkin felt a strange gloom settle on him. He’d known there would be a price for following Tyvara to Sanctuary. Though he was prepared to accept it, a part of him still rebelled.

And then he remembered what Riaya had said. “We are not yet in a position to consider such matters …” Not yet. That did not mean “never.” It might take years for them to gather the strength and courage to venture beyond their mountains, but they would have to, if they wanted what the Allied Lands had to offer.

Although if they did steal gem magic from the Duna tribes, he found himself thinking, then I had better be very careful they don’t try to do something similar to me.

Anyi’s hand reached out to caress the fine leather of the carriage seat, then trace the gold inlay set into the edge of the seat’s wooden base. Looking down at the floor, Cery noted, with amusement, that the Guild symbol – a Y within a diamond – had been created with different inlayed timbers, all which had been polished to a rich shine.

“We’re here,” Gol said, his voice hushed with awe.

Cery looked out of the window. The Guild gates were swinging open. The carriage slowed as it passed through, then sped up again to take them to the front of the University. It stopped before the steps and the driver jumped down to open the door for them. As Cery climbed out, a figure in black robes emerged from the building.

“Cery of Northside,” Sonea said, grinning at him.

“Black Magician Sonea,” he replied, bending in an exaggerated bow. Her eyes crinkled with amusement. “This is Anyi,” he told her. “And you know Gol.”

Sonea nodded at his daughter. “I didn’t realise you were that Anyi,” she murmured. “But then, I hadn’t seen you since you were no taller than my knees.”

Anyi bowed. “Let’s not spread that about,” she said. “I’m Cery’s bodyguard, nothing more.”

“And that’s all that the Guild will know,” Sonea assured them. Sonea looked up at Gol. “You’ve got no taller since the other day, I’m glad to see.”

The man sketched a hasty bow. He opened his mouth and closed it again, clearly too overwhelmed by his surroundings to think of a witty reply.

“Come inside.” Sonea beckoned and started climbing the steps. “Everyone is looking forward to hearing your stories.”