“They rebel against their brothers?”
“Against the whole country. It is better that younger sons are not trained in magic, but it is rare for a parent who loves his child to withhold that knowledge, since it means the younger son will have such low status.”
“Younger sons are more likely to become magicians in Kyralia,” Dannyl told him. “Magicians are not supposed to involve themselves in politics, and it’s considered better if the son destined to become the head of the family is the one with political influence.”
Achati nodded thoughtfully. “I think I like your way better. It gives power to both older and younger sons.”
They spent the next day riding around Tanucha’s estate, and the evening in eating and talking. Afterwards Achati and Dannyl chatted late into the night. The next day they slept late, then explored Tanucha’s library, which was disappointingly small and neglected. Though the rest was welcome, Dannyl could not relax. When they retired to the guest rooms for the second night he asked Achati when they would be moving on.
“That depends on the Traitors, doesn’t it?” Achati replied as he reclined on the pillows in the central room.
“Surely we’re not going to wait around for them to deliver Lorkin and Tyvara to us?” Dannyl said, sitting down on one of the stools. He could not get used to lying about on the floor as the Sachakans did.
“Why not? If we keep moving they may not know where to find us. Or we may end up travelling in the wrong direction – away from those who are bringing them to us.”
Dannyl frowned. “I’m not sure why, but I can’t picture these Traitors turning up at the front gate of Tanucha’s estate with Lorkin and Tyvara in chains. They wouldn’t reveal themselves like that.”
“Then how do you think they’ll do it?”
Dannyl considered. “If I were them... I’d lead us to Lorkin and Tyvara. I’d leave us clues or directions – as they have already – so that we will eventually cross paths with the pair.”
“Have they left us any clues or directions lately?”
“No,” Dannyl admitted. “But they haven’t told us to stay put, either.”
Achati laughed. “I am growing very fond of you, Ambassador Dannyl. You have a unique mind.” He turned to one of his slaves, a handsome young man who attended to most of his needs, while the other slave’s role appeared to be to do heavy work and drive the carriage. “Get us some more water, Varn.” The slave picked up a pitcher and hurried away.
“Of course, telling us that they want us to find Lorkin could still be a decoy,” Dannyl said.
“So if it was, then where would we go next?”
Dannyl shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. If the Traitors did want the girl and Lorkin to evade us, where would they take them?”
“To their mountain home.”
“And which direction has the pair been heading?”
“The mountains.”
“Presumably they are ahead of us.” Dannyl looked up at Achati. “That is the direction I would go.”
Achati nodded, then raised an eyebrow in warning. “We don’t know where their home is,” he reminded Dannyl. “Only that it is in the mountains.”
“I haven’t forgotten that. Have you ever used trackers?”
“Occasionally. When we had a confirmed Traitor to follow.”
“And it failed because?”
“The tracks always stop.” Achati shrugged. “The Traitors are not fools. They know how to erase signs of their passing. Which is not hard when your land is mostly bare rock and you can levitate.”
Dannyl frowned, then shook his head. “If the Traitors wanted us to stop and stay put, or change direction, they’d have let us know.”
“This whole journey and all the clues we’ve followed could have been a ruse,” Achati pointed out. “Designed to keep us busy and heading in the wrong direction.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if we keep going. They’ve already made fools of us. But if there’s a chance they haven’t, and we’re on the right track, then I’m willing to risk being made a slightly bigger fool by continuing toward the mountains. It’s worth it, for the chance we’ll find Lorkin.”
Achati regarded Dannyl thoughtfully, then nodded. The slave returned and handed him the pitcher. “Then we’ll leave. Will the morning be soon enough?” He refilled his goblet but paused to wait for Dannyl’s answer.
Dannyl looked at the man, noting signs of reluctance. I shouldn’t push him too far, he thought. He nodded. “Of course. But early in the morning would be best.”
Achati sighed, nodded, then drained his goblet. “I’ll send a slave to inform Tanucha we’ll be moving on, and request some supplies for the journey. There are fewer estates out by the mountains, and they don’t tend to be that prosperous. We’ll also need some magical support. I’ll contact the king and ask him to send some locals to help us.” With a grunt, he rose to his feet. “Don’t wait for me. Go to bed. This could take some time.”
Magical support. Contacting the king. Dannyl felt a twinge of apprehension. He really does think these Traitors are dangerous.
“Ashaki Achati?” Dannyl said.
The man turned to look back at him. “Yes?”
Dannyl smiled. “Thank you.”
Achati’s frown disappeared and his eyes warmed with good humour. “I think I could get to like Kyralian ideas of manners.” Then he turned and disappeared through the door to his room.
Lorkin opened his eyes. The sky was streaked with orange clouds. He frowned. He’d been dreaming, but he couldn’t remember anything of the dream. Something had woken him. He had that unpleasant, disorienting feeling of being disturbed. Of being wrenched awake before he was ready.
He felt something move against him, and his heart was suddenly pounding.
Lifting his head he saw that Tyvara had fallen asleep. Sitting up against the wall of the old ruin, she had sagged sideways against a protruding stone, and bent her right leg instinctively to avoid toppling sideways. Her knee had come to rest on his arm.
Her skin was wonderfully warm – a stark contrast to the cold ground beneath him and the growing chill of approaching night. Though Sachaka was warm during the day, the evenings could be surprisingly cold.
What should I do? If I move she’ll wake up. But she’s supposed to be keeping watch, and it’s nearly time for us to head off anyway. She needed the sleep, though. She’d been taking longer shifts keeping watch at night, despite him arguing that she could trust him to share the burden. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he could Heal away the weariness. It would be insensitive, considering what his father had promised the Traitors, then failed to deliver.
The cold air told him that she had also let fall the magical shield protecting them, so he put up one of his own, then warmed the air inside it. Keeping still so he didn’t disturb her, he watched her sleeping. The dark circles under her eyes and the little frown creasing her forehead bothered him. But being able to look at her closely without disturbing or embarrassing her... he could appreciate the feminine curve of her jaw and the exotic tilt of her eyes, the curve of her lips...
Which twitched, and he quickly looked away.
He felt her hastily throw up a shield as she woke up and realised she’d dropped hers, so he drew his own in to surround himself. Listening to her draw in a deep breath, then yawn, he considered the ruins they were hiding within. Though Tyvara had been here before, she didn’t know anything about their history. High on a rocky hill, they overlooked the intersection of the road they had been following where it met another. As the sun had risen, just after they’d arrived, he’d been able to pick out details of the mountains, which before had been only a hazy, uneven line of blue-grey at the horizon. Below them was mostly level farmland, broken here and there by plantations of trees or game forests, and criss-crossed by low walls.