He would question Dern himself, and inspect the lock, to be sure. But if it proved to be true then he had one clue to his family’s killer. A clue that, though disturbing, was a start, at least.
“I need to have a chat with our lockmaker.”
Gol nodded. “I’ll arrange it now.”
Perler smiled and nodded at Lorkin as he entered the room. Lord Maron, however, frowned.
“Thank you for agreeing to brief us at such short notice,” Lord Dannyl said. He gestured to the tables and chairs, the only furniture in the small University room Osen had arranged for the meeting, and they all sat down.
Maron’s attention shifted from Lorkin to Dannyl, then he smiled. “You must be confident that the Higher Magicians will grant Lorkin his request to accompany you to Sachaka,” he said. “And that Black Magician Sonea’s protest will fail.”
Dannyl chuckled. “Not completely confident. I never underestimate his mother’s influence, and there may be factors that will sway the other Higher Magicians that none of us know about. But if we wait for the decision before briefing Lorkin then he may leave under-informed – and that would be a mistake.”
“As will a replacement, if they decide Lorkin cannot go.”
Dannyl nodded in agreement. “I would have brought a possible replacement, but there have been no other volunteers.”
“Well, if that happens I will find another assistant, brief him for you and send him when he is ready,” Maron offered.
“That would be most appreciated,” Dannyl said, nodding in gratitude.
Lorkin kept his expression neutral. It was a little annoying being discussed as if he wasn’t there. Still, he could easily have been left out of the meeting, and he was grateful to Dannyl for including him.
“Now, where to start?” Maron said, opening a satchel and pulling out several sheets of paper. “These are the notes I compiled last night, to add to those of my predecessors. You have all the reports of the past Guild Ambassadors?”
“Yes. And I have read them all. It makes for fascinating reading.”
Maron chuckled wryly. “Sachaka is very different to Kyralia. And to all the other Allied Lands. The obvious differences stem from the common use of black magic, and from slavery, but there are subtle ones as well. How their women are regarded for instance. Though men are very protective of the women in their family, they regard all other women with suspicion and fear. They have a strange belief that women band together when away from men and plot all sorts of mischief. Some even believe there is a secret organisation or cult that steals women away from their families and alters their minds with magic in order to convince their victims of their ideas.”
“Do you think it’s true?” Lorkin asked.
Maron shrugged. “Most likely an exaggeration. A scary story to stop women gathering together to gossip and swap ideas on how to manipulate their men.” He chuckled, then sighed and looked sad. “The few I met were meek and lonely. I came to miss the company of educated, confident women, though I suspect I’ll get over that once I catch up with my sister.” He waved a hand. “But I’m digressing. The important thing to know is that you must not speak to women unless invited to.”
As the former Ambassador continued, Lorkin began to make notes in an unused leather-bound notebook left over from his novice days. Maron moved from the subject of women to marriage, family life and inheritance to the complex alliances and conflicts between the main Sachakan families, and finally to the protocols to follow in regard to the king.
“There used to be a Sachakan emperor,” Dannyl pointed out. “Now they have a king. I’ve only been able to narrow down that change to the first few hundred years after the Sachakan War. Do you know when the change happened, and why the Sachakans did not return to calling their leaders ‘emperor’ after they began to rule themselves again?”
“I’m afraid I never thought to question anyone about it,” Maron admitted. “I found it was best not to refer too openly to the fact that the Guild once ruled Sachaka. There is much resentment of it, though...” He paused and frowned. “I suspect it has more to do with the wasteland than the changes the Guild made – or failed to make to their society.”
“Do they know how the wasteland was created?” Dannyl asked.
Maron shook his head. “If they do, they never mentioned it to me. You’ll have to ask those questions yourself. Just be careful how and when you do. From what I’ve seen, they bear grudges a very long time.”
Dannyl glanced at Lorkin. “Do you think it will be dangerous for Lorkin to enter Sachaka?”
Pausing at his note-taking, Lorkin looked up at the former Ambassador. His heart beat a little faster. His skin prickled.
Maron considered Lorkin. “Logically, no more than for any other young magician. I would not mention your father’s name too often, though,” he said to Lorkin. “They would respect him as a defender of Kyralia, but not for what happened before that. Yet at the same time they acknowledge that Dakova, the Ichani who Akkarin killed, was an outcast and a fool for enslaving a magician and foreigner, and deserved his fate. I do not think anyone but Davoka’s brother would feel obliged to seek revenge – and he died in the invasion.”
Lorkin nodded, feeling relief ease the tension in his body.
“Even so,” Dannyl said. “Should Lorkin expect the Sachakans, or their slaves, to be uncooperative?”
“Of course.” Maron smiled and looked at Perler, who grimaced. “They will be uncooperative at times no matter who you are. Aside from the general problems of status and hierarchy, the slaves take some getting used to. They may not be able to do something for you, but they won’t say so because that would be refusing an order. You have to learn to interpret what they say and do – there are signals and gestures you’ll pick up on eventually – and I’ll tell you how best to phrase an order.”
A complicated but surprisingly logical code of behaviour for dealing with slaves followed, and Lorkin was annoyed when, a while later, a knocking at the door interrupted them. Dannyl gestured at the door and it swung open. Lorkin felt his heart sink a little as he recognised the magician standing beyond.
Uh, oh. What’s Mother done now?
“Sorry for interrupting,” Lord Rothen said, his wrinkled face creasing into a smile. “Could I speak to Lord Lorkin for a moment?”
“Of course, Lord Rothen,” Dannyl said, smiling broadly. He looked at Lorkin, then nodded toward the old magician. “Go on.”
Lorkin suppressed a sigh and rose. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible,” he told the others, then walked to the doorway and stepped past Rothen into the corridor outside. As the door closed, Lorkin crossed his arms, steeling himself for the lecture that was bound to come.
Rothen, as always, looked both stern and amused. “Are you sure you want to go to Sachaka, Lorkin?” he asked quietly. “You’re not just doing it to spite your mother?”
“Yes,” Lorkin replied. “And no. I do want to go and I’m not trying to annoy Mother.”
The old magician nodded, his expression now thoughtful. “You are aware of the risks?”
“Of course.”
“So you admit there are risks.”
Ha. Outsmarted! Lorkin found himself having to resist a smile as a wave of affection for the old man swept over him. All the years of Lorkin’s life, Rothen had been there, looking after him when his mother’s duties called her away, helping him when he needed defending or support, lecturing and occasionally punishing him when he had done something foolish, or broken Guild rules.
This was different, and Rothen must know it. Lorkin wasn’t breaking any rules. He had only to convince his old friend and protector that he wasn’t doing anything foolish.