The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(124)

Uh, oh. The last place Dannyl wanted to be was among the Ashaki, if they started to lose and were desperate for more power. He ducked his head in apology.

“I’m afraid we aren’t going to the palace. Both of our rulers are keen to avoid any impression of interference by the Guild.” Then, knowing the man was not going to let them wander off without knowing their destination, especially after mentioning the possibility of interference, he added: “We are going to Ashaki Achati’s house.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, then he nodded. “I will take you to the door.”

He strode away, his strides long and fast. Dannyl followed, relying on the sound of Merria’s footsteps and Tayend’s noisy buttons to tell him they were keeping up. The temptation to look back and meet Tayend’s eyes was strong, but he resisted. Looking confident meant also looking as though he was in charge.

Peering over the Ashaki’s shoulder, he saw movement. A crowd large enough to block the broad street had gathered, and probably filled the parade beyond. Men in trousers and short coats stood watching something within the parade that Dannyl couldn’t see. Precious stones glittered in the sunlight. Ashaki. Many, many Ashaki. At any moment one is going to look up, see us and draw the attention of the others to us. What will happen then? He could not help imagining a horde of them coming at him, ready to harvest power from the three foreigners.

But none did. As the self-appointed escort neared the door of Achati’s house the crowd began to move. The Ashaki army was leaving. Dannyl hoped this would persuade the escort to abandon them, but the man only scowled and stepped up to the door. He rapped on it.

A long silence followed. The Ashaki rapped again. As time stretched, Dannyl felt his heart beating fast. Achati would be with the king. The slaves had probably gone. What would the escort do when it became clear nobody was going to answer? The man knocked a third time, waited, sighed, then turned to face Dannyl.

Then, as his mouth opened to speak, the door swung inward. A slave peered out.

“Ambassador Dannyl.”

Tayend let out an in-held breath and Merria sighed. The Ashaki turned to look back at the slave, then at Dannyl, then towards the parade. Following his gaze, Dannyl saw the last of the Ashaki stride out of sight behind the building opposite.

“Thank you, Ashaki …”

The man didn’t offer his name. He took a step back. “Stay out of sight,” he advised, then he turned and broke into a run.

Dannyl looked at Tayend and Merria. Their eyes were wide as they stared back at him. “Let’s get inside.”

The slave didn’t protest as they pushed through the door. Once all were in the Master’s Room he threw himself on the floor. Hearing a movement, Dannyl saw another slave on the floor near another corridor. He looked from one to the other and frowned. Why were these two still here?

“Stand up,” he ordered. The pair obeyed. “What are your names?”

“Lak.”

“Vata.”

“Why haven’t you left with the rest of the city’s slaves?”

Lak glanced at Vata. “He may need us,” he said.

“He” must be Achati. Dannyl felt a wry admiration for their loyalty.

“What’s the best place we can see the parade from?” Tayend asked.

Vata looked up. “The roof.”

Tayend’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Dannyl. “Well?”

Dannyl nodded. “Then take us there.”

*

Traitors filled the street, milling before the mansion’s gates. Lorkin and Tyvara had found their way out through a slave’s entrance to a side street and hurried around to the front of the building where the Traitors were gathering. Looking around, Lorkin noted that half of the fighters were women, half men. Magicians and sources. All wore vests like his. For most of the men, the stones will be their only source of magic, he realised. Non-magicians participating in battle. That must be a first.

Just before the crowd swelled to fill the space between the houses, Lorkin glimpsed the street stretching on towards the centre of the city. It might have been his imagination, but in the distance the street appeared to be blocked by a shadow. And that shadow seemed to be moving.

Calls for quiet settled the crowd and he realised a familiar voice was coming from somewhere in the centre.

“… protect all. We must all stay together. Our strength is in our unity and purpose. We are united. The Ashaki are not. We have prepared ourselves for centuries. The Ashaki have not. We have the support of the slaves. The Ashaki do not. And we have stones.”

Taller than most Traitors, Lorkin looked over their heads in the direction of the voice and saw Savara standing higher than the crowd, visible to all.

“Can you see her? We have to get to her,” Tyvara whispered in his ear.

“She’s over by the gates.”

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him around the crowd to the wall of the mansion. Savara’s voice grew louder as they neared, filled with confidence and passion.

“Do not spare the stones. This is what they were made for. Tools for breaking bonds, for making our future, for making everyone equal. To bring freedom to Sachaka.”

“Freedom!” the Traitors shouted.

Lorkin’s heart jumped at the unexpected noise. The second time it came, he was ready for it and this time his pulse quickened at the building excitement. Once at the wall, Tyvara wove through people gazing at their queen with rapt expressions. Finally they broke through the crowd to find the queen standing on a cart, surrounded by the Speakers, just as her speech ended.