This estate was run by an Ashaki. Dannyl’s helpers had decided it was the safest one in this area to investigate. Even so, the thought that they might be in a place effectively controlled by Traitors sent a small shiver of excitement and fear down Dannyl’s spine. If the slaves were all Traitors, did that mean they were also magicians? If they were, they outnumbered the visitors.

But even if they were all spies and black magicians, they would need a strong reason to attack a group of visiting Ashaki. The inevitable retaliation would force them to abandon their hold on the estate.

The head slave took them all to the Master’s Room. The Ashaki owner, an old man with a limp, greeted them warmly. When they explained why they were there, and that they needed to read the minds of his slaves, he agreed reluctantly.

“It is likely there are Traitors among my slaves,” he admitted. “Considering how close we are to the mountains. But they seem to have a way of hiding it from their thoughts.” He shrugged, suggesting that he’d given up on finding them.

After an hour, all the slaves but a few field workers had been read. The Ashaki visitors retired to the guest rooms, where they lounged on cushions and discussed what they had learned, after first sending away the slaves sent to attend to them.

“A female slave from another estate visited last night,” one of the Ashaki said. “She wanted food for four people.”

Another nodded. “A lone woman was seen arriving and leaving by one of the field workers. She took food to a stock cart.”

“We heard about this stock cart last night,” Achati said. “Is it the same one? Is it unusual for a cart to be travelling this way?”

“It’s not unusual for more prosperous estates to sell feed to less fertile ones at the foot of the mountains.”

“They are in the cart,” stated a new voice.

All looked up to see Unh standing in the doorway. He looked oddly out of place indoors, Dannyl noted. Like a plant which you know will die from lack of sunlight.

“A slave told me,” the man said. He turned and walked away.

The Ashaki exchanged thoughtful looks. None of them questioned Unh’s claim, Dannyl noted. What reason would the tribesman have to lie? He is being paid to find Lorkin and Tyvara.

Achati turned to Dannyl. “You were right, Ambassador. The Traitors do want us to find them, and they have finally given us directions.”

While not as sturdy as the boots the Guild had provided for Lorkin all his life, the simple leather shoes slaves wore made little noise. The pack he carried had seemed too small and light to contain enough supplies at first, but the weight of it appeared to have grown since he’d first shouldered it. Tyvara had taken the lead, walking with steady, measured steps as the way became more steep and difficult. Chari followed behind Lorkin, uncharacteristically quiet.

They’d told him to avoid using magic in any obvious way, now that he was in territory patrolled by the Traitors. If they’d detected the barrier he’d raised both to protect himself and keep the air around him warm, they must have decided it wasn’t an obvious use of magic, as neither had commented on it. Though they had assured him that the Traitors would not attack him while he was with two of their people, he wasn’t about to gamble his life on it. Not after their encounter with Rasha.

They’d left the cart and the road a few hours before, and were travelling on foot across hills and valleys that grew rapidly more steep and stony. Neither woman spoke. Lorkin found he missed Chari ’s chatter and constant questions. Tyvara had grown more withdrawn the further they travelled. Her frowns made him feel vaguely guilty, but he wasn’t sure why.

She’s heading toward judgement by her people for killing one of their own, which wouldn’t be happening if she hadn’t saved my life.

Abruptly, Tyvara slowed and he pulled up short to avoid stumbling into her. Looking past her shoulder, he saw that, beyond a rise ahead, a group of people were standing before two small huts. They were watching as he, Tyvara and Chari approached.

The huts were small and old and circled by a low fence. From the eaves hung animal skins, and several hide stretchers leaned against the walls, but none of the people gathered outside looked like hunters. All wore simple clothing made of fine cloth. Most were women. He noted two men standing among them and felt a mild surprise. After all that Tyvara and Chari had said about their people, he’d almost come to expect to see no men at all.

A hundred or so paces from the waiting group, Tyvara stopped. She turned to look at Lorkin, frowning as she considered something.

“I can speak for you, if you want,” Chari offered.

Tyvara scowled at her. “I can speak for myself,” she snapped. “Stay here.” Turning on her heel, she stalked toward her people, leaving Chari and Lorkin to exchange a look of bemusement.

“Have you two fallen out over something?” he asked.

Chari shook her head and smiled. “No. Why do you ask?”

“She hasn’t behaved as if the two of you are friends.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Chari chuckled and turned to look at the group. “She’s just jealous. And she doesn’t know it.”

“Jealous of what?”

Chari gave him a lofty look. “You really don’t know? I’ve always wondered how it was that men in the rest of the world are in charge, when they’re so perpetually thick.”

He snorted softly. “And I’m curious to know how Traitor women stay in charge when they’re just as inclined to communicate by indirect hints and innuendo as women everywhere else.”

She laughed. “Oh, I like you, Lorkin. If Tyvara doesn’t wake up to herself and-” A voice called out and she immediately grew serious. She gave him a crooked smile. “Looks like it’s time to introduce you.”

He followed her across the remaining distance to the waiting Traitors. Tyvara watched them, her brow creased with a worried frown. Chari did not look at her friend, but fixed her attention on a middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her long hair.

“Speaker Savara,” she said respectfully. She gestured gracefully toward Lorkin. “Lorkin, assistant to Guild Ambassador Dannyl, of the land of Kyralia.”

The woman nodded. “Lord Lorkin,” she said. “If I am correct.”

“You are, indeed,” he replied, inclining his head. “An honour to meet you, Speaker Savara.”

Savara smiled. “It is polite of you to say so, after all you have been through.” She drew in a deep breath. “First, I wish to convey from the queen, but also heartfelt from myself, an apology for the disruption, fear and threat to your life that you have endured due to the Traitors. Whether Tyvara’s actions are deemed justifiable or not, you have been put through a great deal and for that we feel responsible.”

It did not seem like a good moment to be defending Tyvara, so he nodded. “Thank you.”

“If you wish to rejoin the Guild Ambassador, we can have you safely delivered into his protection. I can also arrange for guides to take you back to the Kyralian border. Which would you prefer?”

“Again, thank you,” Lorkin replied. “I am aware that there will be a trial to judge Tyvara’s actions and I would like to speak in her defence, if that is possible.”

Savara’s eyebrows rose, and a murmur of surprise and interest went through the rest of the gathering.

“That would mean taking him to Sanctuary,” someone said.

“The queen would never agree to it.”

“Unless we hold the trial outside Sanctuary.”

“No, that would be too dangerous. If there was an ambush we’d lose too many valuable people.”

“Nobody is going to ambush us,” Savara said firmly.

She looked back at her people and they fell silent. Turning back to Lorkin, she considered him thoughtfully. “It is an admirable thing you wish to do. I will think on it. How much does the Guild know about us?”