The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,118
there shoe prints?”
Tyvara stopped and looked back to where he was pointing.
“The forest belongs to the Ashaki who owns this land. There will be slaves harvesting the wood, or hunting the animals that live here.” She frowned and looked around them. “I suppose this is as far as we can risk going. We should split up – but stay close enough that you can see and hear me. Look for thick vegetation. Or a hollow in the ground we could cover. If you find anything, whistle to me.”
He headed off to the right of the track. After roaming about for a while he found a place where a huge tree had fallen long ago. All that was left of the tree was a massive stump. Roots splayed out like protective arms, and thick, low bushes had grown around the disturbed soil. Guessing there would be a hollow where the roots had once been, he pushed through the bushes. A hole, half as deep as he was tall, remained.
Thick vegetation and a hollow, he thought with satisfaction. It’s perfect.
Turning to look for Tyvara, he saw her walking twenty or so strides away. He whistled, and when she looked up he beckoned. She headed over to him and pushed her way through the bushes. Stopping at the edge of the hole, she examined it with interest. She sniffed the air.
“Smells damp. You first.”
Lorkin drew magic, created a barrier in the shape of a disc, and stepped onto it. He lowered himself into the hole. The soil beneath the barrier was soft, and flattened as he reached the bottom. Removing the barrier, he felt himself start to sink further. The soil wasn’t just soft, but waterlogged. Muddy water welled up and into his shoes. One foot touched firm ground but the other kept going, and he threw out his arms and tried to step sideways to catch his balance.
But the mud held him firmly. He fell backwards and landed with a splash in a sticky, smelly mire.
The forest echoed with Tyvara’s laughter.
Looking up at her, Lorkin smiled ruefully. She has a great laugh, he thought. As if she doesn’t often laugh, but when she does she relishes it. He waited until she had stopped, then patted the mud beside him.
“Come on down. It’s damp, but much softer than those holes in the ground,” he told her.
She chuckled a little more, shook her head, then opened her mouth to speak. But something caught her attention. She looked up, then cursed quietly.
“You!” a voice called. “Come here.”
She did not look at Lorkin, but hissed words out between her teeth.
“Ashaki. He’s seen me. Stay hidden. Stay here.”
Then she walked away, disappearing through the bushes. Lorkin pushed himself up into a crouch. He listened carefully, and heard the tinkle of a horse’s harness somewhere behind him. Behind the fallen tree.
Moving to the mass of roots, he straightened and peered through them. A Sachakan man was standing beside a horse, staring at something below him. His clothing was not the decorated garb of an Ashaki, but it was well made and more practical for riding.
Then Lorkin saw the knife on the man’s belt. His mouth went dry.
“Get up,” the Ashaki said.
From the ground before him, Tyvara rose. Lorkin fought the urge to rush after her. She’s a magician. A black magician. She can look after herself. And probably more easily if she doesn’t have me to protect at the same time.
“What are you doing here?” the man demanded.
Her reply was meek and quiet.
“Where’s your water bottle? Your supplies?”
“I put them down. Now I can’t find them.”
The man regarded her thoughtfully. “Come here,” he said finally.
She took a step closer, her shoulders stooped. Lorkin felt his heart freeze as the man placed his hands either side of her head. I should stop this. He’ll learn who we are. But why would she let him read her mind? Surely once she knew what he intended she would have fought him off?
After a moment the man let her go.
“Seems you are as stupid as you say. Follow me. I’ll take you back to the road.”
As the man turned away to mount his horse, Tyvara glanced back at Lorkin and smiled. The triumph in her expression blew away his earlier alarm. He watched as she meekly followed the man away into the forest. When they were no longer in sight Lorkin turned and sat down on one of the thicker lower roots of the tree.