The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(30)

“You can sew?”

“Not very well, but we need mattresses, not ball gowns.”

Cery chuckled. “Just as well, eh? I remember your mother couldn’t get you to wear a dress. I don’t think even the king could get you to wear a ball gown.”

“Not a chance,” Anyi replied. “Not even if he was the handsomest man in the world.”

“Pity,” Cery said. “It would be nice to see you all dressed up. Just once.”

“I’d settle for a change of clothes.” Anyi narrowed her eyes at the huts. “I wonder how many people live here, and what they wear. Probably servant uniforms. I suppose it would be handy to look like servants whenever we sneak out of the tunnels.” She pursed her lips. “I’ll come back here later and spy on them for a bit, if that’s fine with you.”

“Good idea. But stay in the forest and don’t try to steal anything yet.” Cery nodded. “For that we’ll come back at night.”

Dannyl stared out of the carriage window, not registering the view outside as he braced himself for the morning’s dismissal.

Lorkin had been in the palace prison for only three days, but it felt much longer. Of course, it probably feels even longer to Lorkin. Ashaki Achati hadn’t visited again. Dannyl couldn’t decide if he was relieved or regretful about that. Any meeting with Achati was likely to be tense and full of resentment and awkwardness over the situation with Lorkin, but Dannyl missed Achati’s company and longed for his advice.

It’s a pity he’s so close to the king. If only I’d made friends with a Sachakan in a more neutral position. He’d have been able to tell me how best to deal with the situation.

Were any of the Ashaki in a neutral position, politically? From what Dannyl had learned, most were either loyal to the king or were allied with Ashaki who would happily seize the reins of power if they had the chance – which they were not likely to get. King Amakira’s position was secure, supported by most of the powerful Ashaki.

As the carriage pulled up outside the palace, Dannyl sighed. He waited until the Guild House slave opened the door, then rose and climbed out. Smoothing his robes, he straightened his back and strode toward the entrance.

Nobody stopped him. He had wondered why they’d let him in the previous day, when all they intended to tell him was to go home. Once again he stepped out of the broad passage into the hall, and was told by a slave to wait to one side.

Several people were standing around the hall. The king was present this time. At least Dannyl would be able to give his request directly to Amakira. Not that it would gain him a favourable response. The king finished talking to a pair of men and invited another three to approach.

Time passed. More people arrived. The king saw some of them not long after they arrived – sooner than Dannyl and some of the others waiting for an audience. They must have been more important, or at least the matter to be discussed was. Or he’s deliberately ignoring me to put me in my place.

Dannyl guessed that a few hours had passed by the time the king looked his way, then beckoned.

“Guild Ambassador Dannyl,” he said.

Dannyl approached and knelt. “Your majesty.”

“Rise and come closer.”

He obeyed. The air vibrated faintly, and Dannyl realised that the king, or someone else, had placed a shield about them to prevent sound escaping.

“You’re here, no doubt, to ask me to give Lorkin back,” the old man said.

“I am,” Dannyl replied.

“The answer is no.”

“May I at least see him, your majesty?”

“Of course.” The king’s stare was cold. “If you promise to order him to tell me everything he knows about the Traitors.”

“I cannot give that order,” Dannyl replied.

Amakira’s stare did not waver. “So you said. I’m sure you could convince him that the order came from those with the authority to give it.”

Dannyl opened his mouth to refuse, then paused. I could agree to try, in order to see Lorkin and confirm he is alive and well. But what if the king decided that Dannyl had broken his promise? Was that crime enough to be imprisoned for? Osen made it clear that I should avoid that. And if they take me prisoner, they’ll take Osen’s ring from me.

“I cannot do that either, your majesty,” Dannyl replied.

The king leaned back in his chair. “Then come back when you can.” He made a dismissive gesture. Taking the hint, Dannyl bowed and backed away for an appropriate distance, then turned and left.

Well, at least I got to see the king this time, he thought as he waited for the carriage. A rejection from the ruler is a slightly better-quality failure than a rejection from one of his lackeys. He wondered which he’d receive tomorrow, or if they would start refusing him admission to the palace.

When the carriage arrived at the Guild House he opened the door for himself, before any slave could do it. The air outside the house was hot and dry, and it was a relief to escape it into the cooler interior. He headed for his rooms, but before he got there Merria appeared in the corridor ahead.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Dannyl shrugged. “No better, though this time I was given a royal refusal.”

She shook her head. “Poor Lorkin. I hope he’s all right.”

“Any news from your friends?”