The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(114)

King Amakira must expect the Traitors to join together to form one army once they reached the city. Savara had indicated they would do so eventually, but for now the Traitors remained in smaller groups, taking advantage of most of the populace of Sachaka being on their side. While the Ashaki were out hunting for them, the Traitors were lying low, growing stronger on the strength of the Ashaki’s slaves.

While Lorkin saw the advantage in that, he was also worried that keeping the Traitor army divided made it vulnerable. The king’s army could easily defeat one of the smaller Traitor groups. It would be weakened by the fight, but in time would regain its strength, while the Traitors … once dead they stayed that way. But if the Ashaki are relying on slaves to replace the power they use, they will have a problem. The slaves have left.

Still, it would be better that no Traitor group confronted the army on its own in case, some fell into the king’s hands. He would torture information out of them, learn of Savara’s plans, the threat of gemstones … He would possess gemstones, too.

“The city will be empty by tomorrow,” Savara murmured. “Except for the Ashaki. The ones returning from the west will join those still here, and then we’ll see if our strategy and preparations and losses lead to the freedoms we seek.”

She sighed and looked up. Lorkin followed her gaze. Stars had begun to dust the sky and a chill had crept into the air. He frowned as they rippled, as if reflected in water.

Then something slammed into his right side and propelled him into Tyvara.

They both tumbled onto the roof. Tyvara scrambled into a crouch and he did the same, though more awkwardly than she. Pain speared through his right arm. Broken, he thought. Instinctively he sent Healing power to numb the pain, but he resisted mending the bone. He might need his strength for more important things. Like avoiding a more fatal strike.

If I hadn’t been holding a shield when the forcestrike hit, I would already be dead, he thought, restoring his shield. Though his barrier had been overcome, it had absorbed most of the strike.

Savara was standing straight, head high and glaring at something to his right. The air rippled as she sent strikes in reply to another attack. Tyvara was standing between him and the unseen attacker. She placed a hand on Savara’s arm, no doubt ready to give power if needed. Moving closer, he looked over Tyvara’s shoulder.

Four Ashaki were standing on a nearby rooftop. As they struck out with firestrike, their faces were bathed in red light. None looked much older than Lorkin. Too impatient to wait for their elders to join them?

Below, ex-slaves had noticed the battle. Some were running away, some had stayed to watch. Lorkin realised his heart was pounding. In all the confrontations between Savara’s group and Ashaki, he’d been part of a larger group. Now they were three against four. He tried not to think of all the power raging between this rooftop and the next, and failed. His knees felt weak. He placed a hand on Savara’s other shoulder and told himself it wasn’t for support. A memory of his Warrior lessons flashed through his mind. It is normal to be frightened during battle. What matters is that you follow your training.

But I’ve never been trained to use black magic in battle.

A shout came from below, then a streak of light shot up from the street between the buildings. The Traitor watchers below had noticed the battle and joined in. The Ashaki looked down and, realising that they were outnumbered, retreated. Three disappeared into a hatch, but the last, forced to defend with no help, faltered. A strike from Savara sent him tumbling away from the hatch, then over the far edge of the roof.

Suddenly the air was still. Savara, Tyvara and Lorkin stood frozen, silently watching. A rumbling mix of muffled shouts, banging doors and the occasional boom came from below. A flickering light drew Lorkin’s eyes to a window of the house the Ashaki had disappeared into. The building was on fire.

Abruptly, Savara turned and led the way back to the hatch behind them. As she started down the rope ladder to the stairwell below, Tyvara grabbed his arm – thankfully the unbroken one – and pulled him after her.

“You first,” he said as they reached the hatch. “Give me a moment to sort out my other arm.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re hurt?”

“Not for long.”

“Then I’ll stay and protect you until …”

“Don’t be stupid. The Ashaki are gone and it won’t take long to heal. Someone has to protect Savara.”

She looked from him to the hatch, then sighed and started to climb down. “Don’t take too long,” she growled.

When she was out of the way, he strengthened his shield, sat with his legs dangling down the hatch opening and concentrated on Healing. He only needed the bone and tissues to mend sufficiently for him to climb down the ladder. Soon he was stepping off the last swinging rung, the hatch closed and bolted above him, and hurrying down the stairs after Tyvara and the queen.

At the bottom he pushed through a door into the corridor beyond, only to find it was now part of the Master’s Room, the wall between reduced to rubble. Traitors stood in a circle around their queen. As Lorkin came closer he saw she stood over three bodies, her expression grim. Two were Ashaki but the third … Lorkin’s breath caught in his throat as he recognised the woman as Speaker Halana.

The room seemed to spin for a moment. He remembered how Halana had called for volunteers to take the first watch. He also remembered her teaching him stone-making – her encouragement, her understanding of the sacrifice he’d made in learning black magic. The vast knowledge and great skill she’d had, now lost …