The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,170
but he wasn’t a man without compassion for others. As he walked away, she looked around the room and found Regin standing by one of the stairs, watching her. She beckoned to him.
“Is that appropriate?”
Kallen’s voice reached her over the chatter and footsteps of the Higher Magicians. She looked over to see him frowning at Osen.
“If you can rouse the support of the majority of Higher Magicians to oppose her going in the next few minutes, I’ll consider sending someone else.”
Kallen glanced at the magicians filing out of the building, then at Sonea, and his lips thinned.
“It’s your decision,” he said. “Not mine.”
As Regin reached her side, Sonea smiled to herself, enjoying a moment of triumph. If Osen now trusted her enough to send her into the city, perhaps the rest of the Guild would forgive her for breaking the rules so often in recent weeks.
“Care to assist me in my next assignment?” she asked Regin.
His eyebrows rose and he almost managed a smile. “Always.”
She hooked an arm around Forlie’s. “Let’s go find your family.”
Lorkin was not completely sure how long had passed since he’d been put in the room. It had no window, so he had no sunlight to track the time of day. He’d shifted from travelling at night and sleeping during the day when with Tyvara to the opposite when travelling with Chari, so he couldn’t judge what time it was by when he grew sleepy. Nor could he judge it by hunger, as he’d been eating whenever opportunity came rather than at regular times.
The meals that were brought to him seemed to follow a pattern, so he was counting the days that way. A simple meal of grainy sweet mush and fruit was followed a few hours later by a larger meal with meat and vegetables. Then after another interval a light meal of flat bread and a cup of warmed milk was served. It was basic food, but wonderful after the scavenged fare he’d had for the weeks he’d been travelling with Tyvara.
He’d been told he had to stay there until Tyvara’s trial. Two and a half days had passed so far, he guessed. He’d kept himself entertained by reading his notebook, and writing observations about everything he had learned about the Traitors so far. He also listed questions he would seek the answer to, when he was free to do so. Each time food was brought, Lorkin glimpsed the Traitor keeping guard on his door. Always a woman, but not always the same woman. Were there no male magicians? Or none willing to guard him? Or did they not trust a man to guard another man?
He’d spent a lot of time sleeping, too. Though he’d been able to Heal away soreness and weariness, it was always better to let the body regain its energy and health through natural means.
Light came from a gemstone set into the ceiling. He’d got a closer look at it by standing on the bed. It was too bright to stare at for long. He’d reached up to it, finding it didn’t give off any heat. The surface was faceted, like stones in jewellery.
Had it naturally formed the shape, or had a human carved it? Would it go on glowing forever, or eventually fade?
Unanswered questions were gradually stacking up in his mind and his notebook.
He wondered how he was supposed to find out about Sanctuary’s laws, as Riaya had suggested. Was he meant to ask for someone to teach him? What would happen if he knocked to get the guard’s attention, then asked for a teacher?
He thought about that for some time. Before he could gather the determination to try it, he heard voices outside. He sat up and turned to face the door as it opened.
A woman he’d never seen before looked him up and down.
“Lord Lorkin,” she said. “You’re to come with me.”
The atmosphere in the city was different now, he noted. More people were about, and many looked as if they were standing around waiting for something. When they noticed him they stared at him with curiosity, but the expectation in the air was clearly for something else.
The trial of Tyvara? he wondered. Well, why else would they come and get me?
His assumption was proved correct when they arrived at the same room in which he’d met the Table of Speakers. The same seven women were seated at the curved table, but this time the gem-encrusted chair was occupied. An old woman sat there, watching him thoughtfully.