The Ambassador's Mission

“And what do you say, Ambassador Dannyl?”

Dannyl shrugged. “I trust the observations and assessment given by the former Guild Ambassadors to Sachaka. They have told me they believe Lord Lorkin’s presence in Sachaka will be of no hindrance to my work and will present no danger to his life and wellbeing. His assistance is appreciated and welcome.”

“Then I call upon Lord Stanin and Lord Maron to provide their opinions on the matter.”

As the Administrator turned away, Dannyl could feel Sonea’s gaze on him. She’s not happy with me for encouraging Lorkin, but I know her too well to be intimidated by her stares. He looked up and met her gaze. A traitorous chill ran down his spine. It wasn’t that her expression held any hint of intent or accusation. It gave away nothing, yet was filled with an intensity that made him feel as if she were stripping back his skin and reading the thoughts beneath. He looked away. All right. Maybe her stares do intimidate me a little.

Even before she’d become a novice – long before she’d become a black magician – she’d made him a little nervous. It was reasonable considering that, when just an urchin of the slums, she’d managed to stab him in the leg. If she had been capable of that then, before she’d been trained to use her powers, it was no surprise he was intimidated by her now.

He did not want to start considering what she might do to him if something did happen to Lorkin in Sachaka, so he turned his attention to the former Ambassadors who were speaking now. The Higher Magicians were asking them questions, and the answers showed that, while they conceded that no Kyralian was ever perfectly safe in Sachaka, neither man thought Lorkin would be in any greater danger than any other magician. If Lorkin was at all worried, he should avoid speaking of his parentage. But because he would be in a subordinate role normally given to a slave, the Sachakans were not likely to pay much attention to him at all.

Next, a trader was called who favoured Sonea’s cautious position. He told of vendettas among the Sachakan families that had continued for decades, which he had observed during his yearly visits. The Higher Magicians questioned him closely as well.

Finally, Osen asked for all but the Higher Magicians, except for Sonea, to leave so that they might debate and come to a decision. Dannyl heard Lorkin sigh with relief when Sonea quickly turned and left, her expression suddenly distracted. As Dannyl stepped out into the crowded Great Hall, he looked for her, but she had disappeared.

The voices of the magicians milling outside the Guildhall quickly faded as Sonea hurried into the passages of the University, and were replaced by higher pitched ones as she neared the main corridor to the classrooms. The morning classes had ended and the novices were making their way to the Foodhall for the midday meal.

As she stepped out into the corridor, ready to weave her way through the novices, the voices abruptly faded to silence. She glanced about and realised all were looking at her. Those in the middle of the corridor hastily stepped out of her way and then, as one, the novices remembered their manners and bowed.

She resisted a smile, and hoped the little flush of embarrassment she felt didn’t show on her face. I know exactly what they’re thinking and feeling. A memory of a tall, frowning man in black robes striding down the University corridor, causing the same frozen moment of panic and a little fear among her fellow novices, flashed into her mind. When I look back, I wonder at how scared we were of Akkarin, as if we knew, somehow, that he was more powerful than he ought to be. The memory caused her chest to tighten, yet she held onto it. She treasured it for a moment, then let it fade.

Her feet took her on to the second-last classroom, which was empty but for one red-robed magician who had once made walking these corridors a torment for her.

“Lord Regin,” she said. “I don’t know how long I have. What did you need to tell me so urgently?”

He looked up at her and nodded politely.

“Thank you for coming, Black Magician Sonea,” he said. “I’ll get to the point. I’ve been told by someone whose word I trust that Pendel’s followers are planning a raid or ambush of some sort designed to expose the criminal connections of rich novices.”

Sonea sighed. “Fools. That won’t help their cause. I thought Pendel was smarter than that.”

“I’m not sure Pendel knows about it. The trouble is, if he doesn’t he might not be inclined to believe me if I tell him, and if he does I might inadvertently expose my informant.”

“You want me to talk to him?” Sonea guessed.