The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(107)

I’m surprised we haven’t caught up with Savara’s group. It must take time to confront and subdue the Ashaki. But maybe that’s why we’re travelling so slowly. She doesn’t want us catching up – or getting to Arvice before her.

They’d travelled mostly in silence. Saral and Temi clearly weren’t happy about their role as escort to two inconvenient foreigners, but neither complained. They did not strike up a conversation either. At the estates it was a different story. The newly freed slaves were euphoric and endlessly talkative, asking questions of Saral and Temi and assuming Sonea and Regin were welcome visitors in Traitor eyes. Now, as the four horses neared the estate’s walls, ex-slaves poured out to greet them.

“Welcome, Traitors!” they called. “Will you stay here?” They came forward in a surge, then the foremost slowed as they saw Sonea and Regin.

“I am Saral and this is Temi,” Saral told them. “This is Black Magician Sonea and Lord Regin, of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia. We are escorting them.”

One of the slaves stepped forward. “I am Veli, chosen leader of this estate.” He looked up at Sonea. “Welcome to Sachaka.”

“Thank you, Veli,” Sonea replied, inclining her head respectfully.

Veli’s attention returned to Saral. “Will you be staying? Queen Savara and her team were our guests last night.”

“Yes, we will stay, and we would all like news of your previous guests.”

Saral looked at Sonea and almost seemed to smile. Sonea inclined her head again in gratitude. At every estate where the queen had stopped, Sonea had asked after Lorkin.

The ex-slaves led them into the estate, where they dismounted and the horses were taken away. A middle-aged woman and her two daughters approached and welcomed them.

“Tiatia is the former owner’s wife,” Veli explained. “She welcomed Queen Savara into her home when she arrived.”

“And her husband?”

“Is in the east. He is a good man and we did not want him to die. We knew there was a chance that he would be forced to fight along with the other Ashaki, or that we would not have a chance to speak in his defence, so we arranged for him to be out of the country.”

“What did the queen think of this?”

“She said she was impressed with our loyalty. But it was not simple loyalty.”

Saral frowned. “No? What was it?”

“Friendship.” As Saral regarded him closely, his gaze faltered. But then he lifted his head and stared back at her. “He is a good man,” he said defensively. “If you want proof, take a look at our slave quarters. They are clean and warm. He allowed men and women to choose each other and live together, and to keep their children. He only required us to make obeisance when visitors were here.”

Saral’s eyebrows rose. “Remarkable. What will happen to him now?”

“His ship slaves will tell him everything in a few days, and warn him that he may have to seek permission to return. Do you think it will be granted?”

The two Traitors exchanged looks. Temi shrugged. “Perhaps. He will have no land. He will have to live on equal terms with you.”

“He will be honoured to,” Tiatia said.

Saral looked at the woman, then Veli, and nodded. “Queen Savara did say there would be circumstances like these and that we must know when to balance caution with compassion.”

“Come inside,” Veli said, smiling. “Rooms and a meal are already being prepared for you.”

As with all previous estates, a surprisingly humble main door led down a corridor to a bigger room, which in each home has been put to different uses: sometimes storage, sometimes sleeping quarters, sometimes a gathering place.

“Sit,” Veli invited. “It will be a while before the food is ready.”

Sonea chose a pair of stools for her and Regin. Sitting on pillows is for younger people than me, she mused. Veli, Saral and Temi did the same.

“While we wait, can I prepare some raka for you?” Tiatia asked.

Saral looked at Veli, her eyebrows raised in question. He nodded. “Yes, that would be appreciated,” Saral replied.

Tiatia smiled, and settled with her daughters onto pillows at the centre of the room. Beneath a stool was a raka pot and a canister of the powder. As more ex-slaves arrived carrying water and cups, she set to work. While Saral and Veli talked about the estate’s produce and future, Sonea watched, amused to see such a familiar ritual of preparation in a place so unfamiliar. To her surprise, steam began to waft from the pot’s spout.

“You are a magician?” Sonea asked Tiatia.

All conversation abruptly ceased. Sonea looked around. Veli was biting his lip and frowning at Saral. The two Traitors were both gazing at Tiatia in surprise. Sonea’s stomach sank as she realised that Veli had wanted to keep this a secret, and she might have condemned the woman in their eyes by revealing it.

“Yes,” Tiatia said in a quiet voice. “My husband taught me.”

Saral let go an in-held breath. “Now I’m willing to think your husband may be all you claim he is,” she said.

“Why do you believe this, and not us?” Veli asked, scowling.

“Because treating slaves well is – was – never going to threaten an Ashaki’s power over others. But teaching his wife magic might.”