The Ambassador's Mission

Cery had sent some of his people out to visit local shops to see if he could watch for the woman from within one of them. One reported overhearing a shopkeeper say his neighbour was away visiting his wife’s family in Elyne, and a few picked locks later Cery was sitting in the absent shopkeeper’s first floor guest room, relaxing in a comfortable chair next to the street side window, watching night fall and lamp-lighters setting the street aglow with light.

He’d also sent people to watch the rear entrance to the shoemaker’s home. The basement was accessible not just via the shop above it but through a sunken back door. Regular reports assured him that she hadn’t left.

Gol was taking longer than he ought to, though. Did I misunderstand Sonea’s message? She said she would be dealing with “the matter” and that I should send information to the hospice. Well, I’ve done that.

A door opened downstairs and he tensed. The footsteps of two or three people thumped up the staircase. Were they his people, or the shopkeeper and his family returning? He moved quickly, concealing himself behind the open door where he could hopefully slip out of the room unnoticed if he needed to. In case they should notice him, he slipped a hand into his coat to where he kept his most visually impressive knife.

“Cery?” a familiar voice called.

Gol. Letting out a sigh of relief, Cery stepped out from behind the door to find his bodyguard and two people wearing long concealing cloaks nearing the top of the stairs. He recognised Sonea. Cery narrowed his eyes at the other man. There was something familiar about him. As the trio came into the light, Cery felt an old memory spring to life.

“Regin,” he said. “Or is that Lord Regin now?”

“It is,” the man replied.

“It always was, Cery,” Sonea reminded him. “But calling novices ‘Lord’ or ‘Lady’ always feels a bit premature. Lord Regin and Lord Rothen have volunteered to assist me in catching the rogue, which could prove vital if I am unable to sneak away unnoticed from the hospice at some point.”

“If luck is with us, you won’t have to slip away again,” Cery told her. “So is Lord Rothen coming?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t see the point, if I was going.”

Cery watched Regin follow Sonea into the room. From what I remember, Sonea didn’t like this man much when she was a novice. He made things bad for her. But when Cery had met Regin during the Ichani Invasion, the young man had volunteered to be the bait that drew a Sachakan magician into Sonea and Akkarin’s trap. It had been a brave move. Had the timing been wrong – and it nearly had been from what Cery recalled – Regin would have had all magic and life drained from him.

If he hadn’t known better, Cery would never have believed the man he was examining had been the prank-playing, mischief-making novice Sonea had complained about. Lord Regin’s face appeared set into a permanent expression of seriousness. Though his build had the healthy weight of someone who’d lived a privileged life, the lines between his brows and around his mouth spoke of worry and resignation. But there’s intelligence in those eyes, he noted.

He’s no less dangerous than he was as a novice, I’d wager. Still, Sonea trusts him enough to recruit him for this. Then he looked at her and saw the wariness in her posture as she glanced at her magician helper. Or maybe she has no choice. I’d better ask her about him, as soon as I have a chance to chat to her alone.

“So where is our rogue?” Sonea asked.

Cery moved to the window. “In the basement of the shoemaker across the street.”

She peered outside. “How many entrances?”

“Two. Both watched.”

“We should split into two groups then. One magician in each.”

Cery nodded in agreement. “I’ll go with you in through the front door. Gol can take Regin around to the back. We’ll meet in the basement, where you’ll do whatever it is you do.” He looked at the others. They nodded. “Any questions?” Glances were exchanged, then heads shook. “Let’s go then.”

They filed back down the stairs. Cery explained and demonstrated a few signals that he and Gol would use as warnings or to signal a retreat, then they stepped outside. It was full night now. The lamps cast circles of light on the ground. Gol led Regin away toward the back entrance. Cery and Sonea waited to give them time to get into place, then walked across the road to the shoemaker’s shop.