The Magician's Apprentice (26 page)

It was the ringleader, Lord Hakkin, who had intrigued Dakon the most. Though the man’s comments were by far the sharpest, he hadn’t delivered them with the conviction the others had. Yet at times he had almost sneered at his supporters’ jibes, repeating and embellishing them if they failed to be witty or cutting enough.

By the time Dakon and the others climbed into the wagon to return to Everran’s home, he had been exhausted, despondent and angry.

When Avaria had suggested to Tessia that it was now safe to deliver the king’s message, Dakon had barely heard. Poor Tessia had had to repeat it twice before he took it in.

The training ground. An hour past midday
. King Errik
did
want to meet him. Just not with several hundred witnesses.
And that is something Jayan must be glad of
, he thought. The apprentice had been uncharacteristically silent and nervous throughout the gathering. Eventually – perhaps too slowly – Dakon had worked out why. Among the detractors had been a man Dakon hadn’t seen in years – Jayan’s father, Karvelan of family Drayn.

Jayan had said nothing about his visit to his father and Dakon had assumed that was simply because nothing of interest had been discussed. Now he could see the conflict the young man faced. He was caught between loyalty to his master and his powerful and wealthy family. Dakon knew how little Jayan thought of his family, and he was fairly sure he had his apprentice’s respect and even affection, but these things did not always matter in the face of money and politics.

I bet old Karvelan wishes I’d hurry up and release his son.
Then Dakon frowned.
I wonder if Jayan wishes I would. It would free him to choose where his loyalties lie. But then, perhaps he’d rather have an excuse not to make that choice just now.

A grunt of dismay brought his attention back to the fighters. Sabin and Errik were backing away from each other.

“You win, again,” the king conceded with cheerful annoyance. Sabin bowed. Chuckling, the king handed his sword to one of the guards, then filled the goblet with clear water from the jug and downed it in one go. Then he took a towel and walked towards Dakon, wiping his brow as he came.

“Lord Dakon of family Aylendin. What did you think?”

“Of the fight, your majesty?” Dakon found himself searching for the appropriate response. He knew nothing about swordplay. “It was energetic.”

“Would you like a bout?” Errik offered. “Me?” Dakon blinked in surprise. “I, ah, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a good combatant.”

“A bit rusty, eh?”

“No. I’ve, er, never picked up a sword in my life,” Dakon admitted. The king’s eyebrows rose. “Never? What would you do, in a real war, if your magic ever ran out?”

Dakon paused to consider it, then decided he’d rather not. “Cheat?”

Errik laughed. “That’s not very honourable!”

Dakon shrugged. “I’ve heard it said that real war isn’t particularly honourable.”

“No.” The king’s smile faded. He turned and waved at the others. All bowed, then walked away. The guards took away the weapons, followed by Sabin. The courtiers vanished through a doorway but the servants took up positions by another door, still holding their burdens, but out of earshot. Within moments Dakon was virtually alone with the king.

“So, Lord Dakon,” Errik said. “You want to know what I will do if the wayward, rebellious Sachakan magicians who are causing our neighbouring emperor so much irritation decide to begin their own little invasion of Kyralia.”

Dakon met the king’s eyes and nodded. Sabin had warned him that the king preferred to be direct. Errik smiled crookedly, then sobered.

“So does everyone else. I tell them exactly what I tell you now: an attack on or invasion of any ley is an attack on or invasion of Kyralia. It is not to be tolerated.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Dakon said. “I’m getting the impression, however, that others would not be.”

The king’s gaze flashed. “The trouble with Kyralians gathering together to support one cause is that other Kyralians then feel they must then gather together to oppose it. Not that I’m saying your Circle should not have formed.” He shrugged, though his expression remained serious. “Just that the consequences were unavoidable.”

“Would they still oppose each other if a greater enemy appeared?” Dakon asked.

“If they become too strongly opposed. There are plenty of examples of this happening in our history.”

“So you can’t appear to support either side, or they may not join forces when needed.” Dakon nodded as he saw the king’s dilemma.

The king’s gaze warmed with approval. “I am making sure
I
can defend my kingdom when and if the need arises.”

Dakon resisted a smile. “Are your plans too great a secret to be shared with a humble country magician?”

“Humble?” Errik rolled his eyes, then sighed and looked at Dakon levelly. “Not too secret. I will discuss some of them with you, and you must tell me if you see any flaws.”

“I will do my best, your majesty.”

“Good. Now, any Sachakans planning an attack will want to be sure they have the numbers to win. They don’t form alliances easily, however. Their numbers are likely to be small at first, so their target is likely to be too. Unfortunately we have plenty of small targets – the villages in border leys protected by one or two magicians, too far apart to be of any use to each other.

“Evacuation is the only option in these leys,” he continued. “Once a ley falls it must be regained immediately. The Sachakans will be relying on news of their success to bring them more allies. We must counter this with news of their failure, as quickly as possible.”

Dakon nodded, pleased at the king’s assessment. “How would I do this?” Errik asked. “Speed will be important, so those magicians closest to the invaded ley will be ordered to respond. But at the same time I will send city magicians out, in case the first response is not sufficient.”

Errik stopped and looked at Dakon, eyebrows raised. “Questions?”

“You would not post magicians out at the borders now?” Dakon asked. “To deter the Sachakans from attacking to begin with and prevent the outer leys being taken at all?”

“Magicians,” the king said, his voice heavy with irony, “do not like being told what to do. If you can persuade some of your city supporters to return with you, by all means do so. But don’t be surprised if they are too concerned with keeping an eye on their adversaries here to leave. It would cause me more trouble later if I order any to go, no attack comes to justify it, and they suffer some setback.”

Dakon could not help frowning. The king nodded. “Petty, I know. Rest assured, once an attack comes no magician will dare protest against defending their country. However,” his eyes narrowed, “your new apprentice managed to extract a promise from me last night that I feel I must keep.”

“Tessia?” Dakon frowned in dismay. “She demanded a promise?” Errik chuckled. “No. I’m afraid it was my fault. I thought to test her and instead made a fool of myself.”

Dakon’s alarm grew.
What did she say?
He tried to read Errik’s expression.
Well, the king doesn’t look too annoyed. Perhaps annoyed at himself
, he corrected.

“I spoke of the threat, which she clearly knew nothing of,” Errik explained. “And ended up promising her that her village was safe.”

“Oh. I apologise for that,” Dakon said. “I have tried to keep her from learning of the Sachakan threat, so that worry would not spoil her first visit to Imardin.”

Errik smiled crookedly. “That was considerate of you. I’m afraid I now feel obliged to keep my promise, so I am sending one of my most loyal magician friends home with you.” He turned and waved at the building the courtiers had disappeared into. One of the men stepped out and started walking towards them.

“This is Lord Werrin. He will live with you for now, officially there to assess Kyralia’s defences but also conveniently rumoured to be keeping the country magicians in their place. It will meet everyone’s requirements of me, I hope.”

The man was short but lean, his hair flecked with grey, but his face as smooth as the king’s so it was impossible to judge his age. He returned Dakon’s gaze steadily as he stopped beside Errik, his eyes dark and intelligent but his face devoid of expression.

“I look forward to being your host, Lord Werrin,” Dakon said. The man smiled. “And I shall enjoy exploring the country leys in spring, Lord Dakon.”

Dakon felt a moment of panic and worry. Did the king think he needed to keep an eye on Dakon and his neighbours? He pushed the feeling aside. He had nothing to hide. And having an extra magician in Mandryn would go a long way towards helping protect the village and ley, should it be attacked.

Then he felt sympathy for Werrin. The man would have little to do but travel the rounds of border leys, over rough roads, with none of the comforts and entertainments of the city.
I must find out his taste in books, and stock up
, Dakon thought.
And see what sort of—

-
WE
HAVE
BEEN
ATTACKED!
MANDRYN
HAS
BEEN
ATTACKED!

For a moment, Dakon, Werrin and the king blinked at each other in surprise. Then Werrin placed a hand on the king’s shoulder as if to steady him and did not remove it. It was a notably personal gesture, indicating how close they were.

“That was Lord Narvelan,” Werrin said. He looked at Dakon. “Am I correct?”

Dakon nodded. His stomach had sunk at the voice and its news. Mandryn. His home. Attacked. His head spun as the truth sank in.

-
Attacked by whom?
the king asked. –
Sachakans
, Narvelan replied.
One of the villagers recognised the magician who passed through here a while back.

“Takado,” Dakon hissed, horror turning to anger. –
How many survivors?
he asked. –
Not many. We are still count—
–
Cease communication
, the king ordered firmly. He looked at Dakon. “There are good reasons why speaking with the mind is forbidden by law. Do you want more Sachakans knowing how successful your former guest’s attack was?”

Dakon shook his head. Errik glanced at Lord Werrin, who let his hand fall from the king’s shoulder. “I doubt Narvelan intended to give away that he is there now, most likely alone and vulnerable.” He grimaced and looked at Dakon. “I expect you want to return as quickly as possible – will probably leave tonight?”

Dakon nodded. “Lord Werrin will go with you. He’ll join you at Lord Everran’s home in an hour.” Errik looked at his friend, who nodded, then turned back to Dakon. “I will gather more magicians to follow as soon after as I can arrange. Go – and be careful. And… please convey my apology to Apprentice Tessia and my hope that her family is among those who survived.”

There was genuine concern in the young ruler’s face and voice. Dakon bowed.

“I will. Thank you, your majesty,” he said.

Then he hurried away, unable to stop the images of death and destruction his imagination was conjuring up. How many had died? Who? He would not find out until he returned home. And home was at least three or four days’ ride away, if he changed horses and rode through the night, and the road hadn’t worsened . . .

Then he remembered Narvelan’s last communication. The king had said Narvelan was in Mandryn.
We are still count—
. The last word had been “counting’, surely. Counting the dead. Dakon shuddered.

But it also meant Takado – if the villager who recognised the attacker was correct – had left after his attack. That was unexpected.

The Circle had always assumed Sachakans wouldn’t attack unless they intended to possess a village or ley.

It was strange, and he would have plenty of time to ponder it on the ride home, but he would not find any answers until he got there.

“What is it, Tessia?”

Tessia started and looked at the faces of the women, all staring at her. She hesitated, worried that if she told them what had happened they would think her mad.

But the content of the message she’d heard was too shocking. She had to say something.

“I…I just heard someone talking,” she said. “In my head.” Kendaria’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not good. Mental communication is forbidden by law. Magicians can only do it if the king approves or orders it. Did you recognise who it was?”

“It was . . .” Tessia frowned. “He didn’t say, but it sounded like Lord Narvelan. And Lord Dakon replied. And another man… the king? It sounded like his voice.” She shook her head. “Narvelan said Mandryn had been attacked by Takado – the Sachakan who visited us a few months ago.” She looked at the women. They exchanged horrified looks. They clearly believed her. “Are you saying this is
real
?”

“Yes.” Kendaria looked at Avaria. “Is this the beginning?”

Avaria shrugged. “I wouldn’t dare guess.” She was frowning at Tessia in concern. “Lord Dakon wouldn’t have taught you about mind-speaking, I’m guessing, because it’s not something you’re supposed to do. But if Lord Narvelan used it, the need must have been urgent. We had better go home.”

The others murmured sympathetic farewells and Kendaria, their hostess today, offered the use of her wagon so they would not have to send for Avaria’s. Feeling dazed, Tessia followed Avaria out of the house and into the vehicle.

“So Mandryn has been attacked?” she asked as the wagon began moving.

Avaria looked grave. “Yes.”

How many survivors?
Dakon had asked.
Not many
, Narvelan had answered. She felt a rush of cold and fear.
Mother? Father? Are they alive?

Takado’s leering face flashed into her memory and she shuddered.
He came back.
Did he come back to punish her for humiliating him by repelling him with magic? Then she remembered Hanara.
Did he come back to reclaim his property?

“Tessia, there is something I should tell you.”

She looked up at Avaria. Dread filled her. Did the woman know something? Did she know that Tessia’s parents were dead? How could she?

She might. All of this felt so unreal, it seemed anything was possible.