The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,143
to the left of Cery, arms crossed in his typical protective pose. Anyi’s eyes narrowed, then she walked past Cery to stand at his right. As he looked at her, she stared back defiantly, daring him to challenge her. He smothered a laugh.
“Did I say the lesson was over?” he asked, looking from her to Gol. His bodyguard blinked, then looked at Anyi. “Get back to work,” Cery ordered.
He watched them walk back to where they had been practising. Gol said something, to which Anyi shrugged, then dropped into a fighting crouch. Good, Cery thought. If Skellin’s messenger reports that I have a new, female bodyguard, I may as well have him report on her skills as well. I can’t hide her forever. If anyone picks that I’m keeping someone hidden they’ll assume there’s a reason and start asking questions.
Still, his skin pricked as a figure moved into the doorway. It was one thing to know one’s loved ones were in danger because of who you were, but quite another to actually put them in a position that involved no small amount of risk.
Skellin’s messenger was lean and tall, with the constant tense poise of a runner. His eyes met Cery’s and he nodded politely. Then his gaze snapped to Gol and Anyi, the latter having just launched herself in an attack. Gol countered it deftly, but she darted gracefully out of his reach.
As Cery had expected, a spark of interest lit the messenger’s gaze, but there was more than just professional assessment in his expression. Suddenly Cery regretted having Anyi and Gol return to practising. It took a great effort to keep his face composed and posture relaxed.
“You have a message for me?” he asked.
“You are Cery of Northside?” the man asked, though his voice held no doubt. It was a formality.
“Yes.”
“Skellin said to tell you that he has found the quarry and is setting a trap. If you bring your friends to the old butchery in Inner Westside when the sun sets tonight, they can take possession of their new pet.”
Cery nodded. “Thank you. We’ll be there. You may go.”
The man gave a slight bow, then left. Gol walked over to the door and closed it, before turning to regard Cery soberly. “You’ve only got a few hours.”
“I know.” Cery frowned. “And my friend won’t be at her place of employment yet.”
“They’ll send a message on to the Guild.”
“The Guild?” Anyi repeated. She gave Cery a hard look. “What is going on? Is this the thing you couldn’t tell me about yet?”
Cery and Gol exchanged a look. The bodyguard nodded once.
They’d discussed since the meeting with Skellin when to tell Anyi the whole story. If they told her about the rogue – and in particular that they suspected she was the Thief Hunter and the killer of his family – she’d want to come along and see the woman captured. If he ordered her to stay behind she would probably disobey him, figuring she’d wear whatever punishment he gave her for it. Assuming he discovered she had disobeyed him.
It wasn’t that she made a habit of defying him, but with something this big she’d make an exception. He would too, in her place.
He could, instead, simply not tell her about the rogue, but there was still a good chance she’d slip away and follow him just to find out. Again, it was what he would have done.
So he and Gol had decided their only choice was to involve her in the capture by giving her a relatively safe job to do. Once again she would be one of his shadow guards. This time she would have to know the nature of the quarry they were chasing. There would be no rushing in to fight this enemy if things went wrong. Fighting magicians with knives was pointless and suicidal.
“Yes, the Guild. It is time you knew what we’re dealing with,” Cery told her. “There are three things you will learn from tonight: even the most powerful Thief has limitations, it pays to have friends in high places, and there are some things best left to magicians.”
There was a long pause between when Sonea knocked on the door of Administrator Osen’s office to when it finally swung open. Osen’s gaze was slightly distracted as he ushered them in.
“Black Magician Sonea, Lord Rothen,” he said hesitantly. “I’ve called you here because Ambassador Dannyl and the Sachakans who have volunteered to help him are close to catching Lord Lorkin and his abductors.”