He frowned. “So you think there’s nothing else I could do? Nothing that the Guild is preventing me from doing that I should do? Nothing we haven’t thought of yet?”
She looked away. “No... nothing that doesn’t include a risk of making the situation worse if it fails to work, anyway. Are you hungry? I was going to ask Vai to make me something to eat.”
What is this risky idea? he wondered. Should I ask about it? “Yes,” he said. “But not straightaway. I want to contact the Administrator first.”
“I’ll arrange something.” She headed back down the corridor and disappeared.
The interrogator didn’t turn up until some hours after the morning meal. Food had arrived – a slurry of ground grain. A faint symbol drawn with water on the porous wooden tray reassured him it was safe.
Lorkin’s stomach stirred unpleasantly as the Ashaki interrogator and his assistant led him in a new direction. The man chose another corridor and stopped at a different doorway, but the room inside was little different from the previous one. Plain, white walls surrounded three worn old stools.
The interrogator sat down and gestured for Lorkin to take one of the other stools, then looked at his assistant and nodded. The man slipped out of the room. Lorkin braced himself for more questions.
None came. The interrogator looked around, then shrugged and began staring at Lorkin with a distant expression. When the assistant returned, he shoved a female slave into the room before him. She threw herself onto the floor before the Ashaki. Lorkin tried to keep his expression neutral, to hide the wave of hatred for slavery he felt at her grovelling and the Ashaki’s expectation of it.
“Stand,” the interrogator ordered.
She got to her feet, facing the Ashaki with hunched shoulders and keeping her eyes downcast.
“Look at him.” The interrogator pointed at Lorkin.
The woman turned to face him, her gaze fixed on the floor. She was beautiful, he realised – or would have been if she hadn’t been terrified. Long, glossy hair framed a sculpted jaw and cheek bones that, for a moment, stirred memories of Tyvara that made his heart skip and fill with longing. But this woman’s limbs, while as graceful, were trembling, and her dark eyes were wide. At her obvious fear he felt his stomach sink. She expected something bad to happen.
“Look at him. Don’t look away.”
Her gaze flitted up to meet his. Lorkin forced himself not to look away. If he did, he knew the Ashaki would make him regret it somehow. He could not help searching for some hint of resolve in her face, or an effort at communication that might indicate that she was a Traitor. All he saw was fear and resignation.
She expects pain, or worse. The only slaves I’ve seen down here were carrying things. Why else would she – a beautiful young woman – be down here with no obvious menial purpose?
A slave this beautiful would never be given purely menial tasks.
He felt sick. He could not help thinking of Tyvara again, and what she must have been forced to do as part of her spying. She, too, was too beautiful not to have attracted that kind of attention from her masters.
After all, the first time she met me she expected me to take her to bed.
The interrogator stood up. He took hold of the woman’s arm and pulled her closer to him. One of his hands went to the jewelled sheath that all Ashaki wore at their hip and he slowly drew his knife. Lorkin held his breath as the knife rose toward the slave’s throat. The woman shut her eyes tightly, but did not struggle.
Words flooded into Lorkin’s throat, but stuck there. He knew exactly what the interrogator intended to do, and why. If I speak to save her, many, many more will die. If she is a Traitor, she won’t want me to betray her people. He swallowed hard.
The knife did not slice across her throat. Instead the interrogator slid it under one shoulder of her shift and cut through the cloth. He took hold of the other shoulder and pulled, and the slave garment slid away, leaving her naked but for a loin cloth. Her expression didn’t change.
The Ashaki sheathed his knife, looked over her shoulder at Lorkin, and smiled.
“Any time you want to talk, go right ahead,” he said, flexing his fingers and curling them into a fist. The assistant chuckled.
And then the Ashaki set to work.
Chapter 8
Coming to an Understanding
Putting down the book she had been failing to concentrate on, Lilia looked around Sonea’s guest room and sighed. Though Sonea had been absent or asleep most of the time, her rooms felt strangely empty now that she had left for Sachaka. Lilia was suddenly more conscious of being alone, and that nobody – no magician, at least – was likely to visit.
Well, none except Kallen if I don’t turn up to classes on time, but it’s not like he makes social visits.
Anyi might still slip in at night via the secret opening in the room’s wall panelling but now that she, Cery and Gol were living under the Guild it was safer for Lilia to visit them. There had always been a risk that someone would discover Anyi in Sonea’s rooms and realise they hadn’t seen her enter or leave by the door.
The only other person who visited Lilia on a regular basis was Jonna, Sonea’s servant and aunt. Jonna visited twice a day to deliver meals. But she must also come here after I’ve left for classes to clean, too, Lilia thought, remembering how she usually returned to find everything tidy. While Jonna usually slipped into Sonea’s bedroom after the evening meal to change the bed linen and gather robes to wash, that was only because Sonea had worked night shift at the hospices.
Looking over at the open door of her room, Lilia regarded the bag she used to carry textbooks and notes around. It held the food she’d taken from the Foodhall that day, some soap, and clean wash cloths from the Baths, ready to take to her friends. She also had news from Kallen to deliver, but until Jonna arrived with the evening meal, Lilia wouldn’t be able to slip away.
In the meantime she tried to study. She looked down at the book in her hands. She’d never really caught up with the lessons she’d missed while a prisoner in the Lookout. Teachers would notice if she slipped even further behind.
Once Cery, Anyi and Gol have settled in, I’ll be able to get back to my studies, she told herself. Maybe I’ll study all next Freeday. If my plan works tonight at least there’ll be one less thing to worry about.
Her thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. She stood up in case it was a magician, and opened the door with magic. To her relief, Jonna bustled in. Though burdened with a lacquered box and a large jug, the woman managed to bow before placing it on the table.
“Good evening, Lady Lilia.”
“Good... evening.” Lilia hesitated as she opened the box and saw, to her disappointment, that it held one bowl of a thick soup and a single bread roll, as well as a creamy dessert. Of course. She won’t be bringing more than one person can eat now. Which made it even more important that Lilia’s plan worked.
“What’s wrong?” Jonna asked.
“I... I was hoping Anyi would visit tonight.”
Lilia had been surprised to discover Jonna already knew Anyi was Cery’s daughter, and of the secret entrance to Sonea’s rooms, until she learned that Jonna was Sonea’s aunt. It certainly explained the way Jonna bossed Sonea around in private, with no fear and little regard for status.