“Lots of thorny plants,” Dannyl replied ruefully. “I’m afraid your friends are about to meet a shabby Kyralian.”
Achati looked down at Dannyl’s torn robe. “Ah, yes. Sachakan vegetation can be as prickly as its people. I’ll get Varn to mend it for you.”
Dannyl nodded in gratitude. “Thank you. Now, is there anything in particular I should say or do in greeting our new companions?”
Achati shook his head. “When in doubt, let me do the talking.”
The farm cart was big and moved slowly. It was piled high with bales of stock feed, its load strapped down securely with many ropes. Four gorin hauled it – the first Lorkin had seen of the big animals in Sachaka. The driver was a short, silent male slave who occupied the only seat on the vehicle.
The other three passengers rode in a cave within the bales. Gaps between the bales that formed the roof allowed some air to get into the narrow space, but the walls were tightly packed. Three small packs were stowed at one end, which Lorkin assumed were full of food and supplies for the journey into the mountains. Chari and Tyvara were sitting either side of him on a seat of bales running along the gap, which meant he had to turn his back on Chari to look at Tyvara, and vice versa.
Chari nudged his arm with her elbow. “More comfortable than walking, right?”
“Definitely. Was this your idea?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “No, we’ve been doing this for centuries. Got to move slaves about somehow.”
He frowned. “Won’t any Traitors seeing a cart like this suspect there’s someone travelling inside, then?”
Chari shrugged. “Yes, but unless they’ve got a good reason, they won’t approach us. Especially not during the day. Slaves don’t stop other estate’s carts. None of their business. If an Ashaki saw them doing it, they’d think it odd and investigate.” She frowned. “Keeping you hidden has the added benefit of preventing confrontations like the one you had with Rasha. I have the authority to stop Traitors like her – don’t worry, not all of us want you dead – but dealing with it would delay us. If other Traitors do suspect you’re in here, they’ll rightly assume it wouldn’t be without the knowledge of other Traitors. This is not something you could ever arrange on your own.”
“And let’s not forget the people searching for Lorkin,” Tyvara added. “Ambassador Dannyl and the king’s representative, Ashaki Achati.”
“Those two?” Chari waved a hand dismissively. “We’ve arranged for them to be sent off track, next time they go snooping around an estate.” She smiled. “They could ride past us and never know we’re here.” She looked up at the bales above them. “Though, it can get a bit stuffy on hot days. Good thing you two had a bath last night, eh?”
Lorkin nodded and looked down at himself. The last of the dye had washed off his skin. He patted the clean slave wrap. “Thank you for the new clothes, too.”
She looked at him and grimaced. “We’ll have you out of them and into proper clothes soon.”
“I never thought I’d say it, but I miss my Guild robes,” he lamented.
“Why didn’t you like them before?”
“Because every magician wears them. It gets a bit boring. The only change you get is when you graduate from a novice to a magician – unless you become one of the Higher Magicians, and most of them only wear a different colour sash.”
“A novice is a student, right? How long do they stay novices for?”
“All new entrants to the Guild are novices. They spend about five years in the University before they graduate.”
“So what sorts of magic do you learn at the University?”
“At first a range of things,” he told her. “Magic, of course, but also non-magical studies like history and strategy. Most of us turn out to be better at something, and eventually we get to choose which of the three disciplines we’ll follow: Healing, Warrior Studies or Alchemy.”
“What did you choose?”
“Alchemy. You can tell which of us are Alchemists because we wear purple. Healers wear green and Warriors wear red.”
Chari frowned. “What do Alchemists do?”
“Everything that Healers and Warriors don’t do,” Lorkin explained. “Mainly it involves magic but sometimes not. Ambassador Dannyl, the magician I came here with and am supposed to be assisting, is a historian, which doesn’t involve magic at all.”
“Can you choose two disciplines? Be an Alchemist and a Warrior – or an Alchemist and a Healer? Or—”
“We already know this, Chari,” Tyvara interrupted.
Lorkin turned to regard her. She looked at him apologetically. “We’re taught about the Guild along with the culture of many other lands during our training,” she told him.
“Yes, but I didn’t pay much attention at the time,” Chari replied. “It’s so much more interesting when it comes from an actual Kyralian magician.”
Lorkin turned back to find her looking at him expectantly. “You were saying?” she prompted.
He shook his head. “No, we can’t choose more than one discipline, but we all get a basic education in the three.”
“So you can Heal?”
“Yes, but not with the skill and knowledge of a fully trained Healer.”
Chari opened her mouth to ask another question, but Tyvara cut in before she could speak.
“You can ask questions in return,” she told Lorkin. “Chari may not be able to answer some of them, but if you let her do all the asking she’ll interrogate you all the way to the mountains.”
He looked at Tyvara in surprise. Throughout their journey from Arvice she had been reluctant to answer his questions. At his stare, her lips pressed into a thin line and she shifted her gaze to Chari. He turned to look at the other woman. Chari was regarding Tyvara with amusement.
“Well, then,” she said, turning to Lorkin. “What would you like to know?”
Though there were hundreds of things he wanted to know about the Traitors and their secret home, and Chari seemed much more receptive to questions, he suspected that Tyvara’s habit of secrecy would soon have her stopping him and Chari talking at all. Was there anything he could safely ask about the Traitors, when so much information about them was secret?
I definitely shouldn’t ask how they block mind-reading. Though I still suspect it involves a process similar to making a blood gem. Suddenly he remembered the references to a storestone in the records he’d read for Dannyl.
Was there any risk in mentioning the storestone? It wasn’t as if he knew where to find it, or how to make one, so he wouldn’t be putting a weapon into the Traitor’s hands if he talked about it.
“Remember how I said that Ambassador Dannyl is a historian?” he asked.
Chari nodded.
“He’s writing a history of magic. We’ve both done a bit of research here in Sachaka. Dannyl is more interested in filling the gaps of our history – how the wasteland was created, or when and how Imardin was destroyed and rebuilt. I’m more interested in how old kinds of magic worked.”
He paused to gauge their reaction. Chari was watching him intently, while Tyvara regarded him with one eyebrow raised, which he took to indicate interest and a little surprise.
“When I was taking notes for Dannyl I found a reference to an object called a storestone,” he continued, “that was kept in Arvice after the Sachakan War. It was clearly a thing of great power. It was lost a few years after the war – apparently stolen by a Kyralian magician. Do you know anything about it?”
Chari looked at Tyvara, who shrugged and shook her head.
“I don’t know about that one, but I know a bit about storestones,” Chari told him. “Anyone would guess from the name that they are stones that store power. Which would be very useful. But they’re rare. So rare that individual stones were once given names and their histories recorded as if they were people. All the ones we’ve heard of were destroyed long ago. It’s probably over a thousand years, probably more, since the last one existed. If this storestone existed just after the Sachakan War, it is the most recent record of one. So you didn’t know about it until recently?”