The Magician's Apprentice (72 page)

“Who?” the man asked.

“Takado’s slave.”

The man narrowed his eyes at Hanara. “Follow me.”

Though Hanara felt a sense of relief and freedom as the first slave let go of his arm and the new one didn’t take hold of him, he knew it was an illusion. If he tried to run he would be caught and beaten. So he obediently trailed behind this new slave. The corridors here were decorated with carvings and hangings, and in places the walls themselves had been painted with colourful scenes.

They stopped before a carved wooden door. The slave knocked quietly. As the door opened a crack Hanara glimpsed a face and an eye.

“Ichani Takado’s slave,” his new guide murmured.

The door closed and they waited. Hanara examined the wall decorations, trying to slow his breathing and heartbeat. When the door opened again he jumped and all the calm he’d managed to summon evaporated.

Before he got a look at the room beyond, he was inside it.

“So. You are the ichani Takado’s slave,” a voice echoed.

The man who had spoken sat on one of many bench seats arranged around the walls. His cropped coat glittered with gold and jewels, which matched the room’s elaborately decorated furniture. Hanara threw himself on the floor.

The emperor! He must be the emperor!
He didn’t dare answer. The man’s words had been pitched as a statement, not a question.

“Get up,” the man said.

Reluctantly, but not so slowly as to anger the emperor, Hanara got to his feet. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“Come here.”

He forced his legs to move, taking him closer but ready to freeze at any moment. The instruction to stop did not come and he found himself standing a mere two or three paces from the seated ruler, not daring to look up, fearing the consequences if his gaze even fell upon the man’s shoes.

“Kneel.”

Hanara dropped to the floor, the rattle of his chains echoing loudly in the room. The impact jolted his spine and bruised his knees, but he quickly forgot the pain as he felt hands press onto either side of his head.

Of course
, he thought.
This is what they want from me. Information about Takado. Everything that happened. Well, I will show him how clever Takado was. How he wanted to help Sachaka.

Sure enough, Emperor Vochira combed through Hanara’s mind, skilfully drawing out memories of Takado’s tour through Kyralia, Hanara’s stay in Mandryn, Takado’s return and then every stage of the war, from the wooing of allies to the morning when, having seen the Kyralian army entering Sachaka, Takado and his last two friends had put aside plans to disappear in order to warn Sachaka of the impending invasion, and help repel the invaders.
See!
Hanara could not help thinking.
His motives aren’t selfish. He always wanted the best for Sachaka!
He felt the long-life feeling returning.

-
You little fool
, Emperor Vochira said into his mind, shattering the feeling.
It has been known for centuries that Sachaka could not risk a battle with Kyralia or Elyne. When we first conquered these lands they contained few magicians. Under our rule and influence they adopted our ways, and gained many more. That is why my predecessor granted them independence so long ago. Since then we have enjoyed a beneficial peace. If Takado had only spoken to me of his plans, I would have told him this.

But Takado had never respected the emperor enough to let the ruler veto his grand plan, Hanara knew. His allies had mostly been ichani at first – outcasts who hated the emperor and anyone with a position of power in Sachaka.

-
Why didn’t you tell him?
Hanara asked.
Why did you never explain this?

-
Would he have listened? Would he have believed it?

Hanara could not stop a traitorous “no” forming in his mind.

- It was knowledge that was only revealed, when needed, to those we could trust with it. We did not want Kyralia and Elyne discovering they were stronger than they believed. I doubt I would have trusted Takado with it willingly, even had he consulted me. I doubt he would have obeyed me if I had. He is disloyal and disobedient by nature.

- He was loyal to his friends
, Hanara pointed out.

- Friends who are now dead.
Emperor Vochira’s anger was palpable.
The man you are so loyal to has taken an ally of this country and done so much harm to it we may never be anything but enemies again. He has led half of the magicians in this land to their deaths. He has forced the Kyralians to discover strengths they didn’t know they possessed, handed them a victory they didn’t expect and given them the confidence and reason to seek revenge for the harm he did to them.

- He didn’t mean to! He never meant to lose! At least he had the courage to try! –

The courage of an ignorant, greedy, disloyal fool.
Emperor Vochira’s mental voice grew dark with something more frightening than anger – bleak resignation.
He has doomed us. And I have doomed us by failing to stop him. The Kyralians will soon arrive at Arvice. They will meet the last of the Sachakan army and they will defeat it. Within days we will be the conquered, and they the conquerors. Only then will we know the true extent of their revenge. All this because of your master. Takado the Betrayer. That is how he will be known. Do you still have the long-life feeling now, Hanara? Betrayer’s slave?

He could not help it. He reached for the feeling and felt it splutter and die. The emptiness that followed was unbearable and drew him deep into despair. It was worse, he realised, than finding out Takado had died. At least then Hanara could have remembered his master with pride. But was Takado dead?

-
No,
the emperor replied.
Though I would like the satisfaction of killing him myself, I must sacrifice that in the hope that handing him over to the Kyralians will save some of what survives of Sachaka.

-
When he dies, will you tell me?

The emperor paused and Hanara felt a hint of surprise. And was that jealousy, too?

-
I will give orders that you be present when he is handed over. That is all I can offer.

“
Thank you
,” Hanara whispered. But he did not know if the man heard. The sense of the emperor’s mind lifted and Hanara felt the man’s hands slide from his head.

“Take him away,” Vochira said, his voice hoarse with disgust.

Hanara kept his eyes on the floor as footsteps hurried close behind him. Someone grabbed his arm and drew him away. He did not resist, too caught up in the knowledge that his master had brought about the fall of Sachaka, and the traitorous hope that Takado would escape to retake his homeland from the Kyralians.

The Sachakan estates they passed had reduced in size in the last few days, Jayan noticed. He’d learned to identify the markers that indicated a fence was a boundary as well as containment for stock. However, though the land each estate covered was growing smaller, the buildings were growing rapidly larger.

It’s obvious we’re getting close to Arvice, but everything is deserted
, he thought.
The quiet is… eerie.
He’d felt tense and uneasy since they’d set out that morning.

“I heard a rumour about you last night,” a familiar voice said from behind his shoulder.

Recognising Narvelan’s tones, Jayan resisted turning around to look at the magician.

“What this time?” Dakon asked.

Narvelan laughed. Jayan winced at the sound. Narvelan’s lightheartedness and joviality seemed out of place, and a painful contrast to the rest of the army.
We’re about to fight our final battle with our ancient enemy, and he’s behaving as if we’re taking a nice ride in the sunshine.

“I overheard some magicians speculating whether you arranged for those two magicians to be poisoned,” Narvelan said. “They wondered if you’d heard the pair criticising you for being too scrupulous to kill slaves.”

“I see,” Dakon said calmly. “Did they see the irony in suspecting someone had done something so unscrupulous because he was accused of being too scrupulous?”

Narvelan chuckled. “I didn’t stop to ask. Have you noticed anyone treating you with increased, ah, respect?”

“No.”

Jayan shook his head. But then he remembered how quiet and obedient the servants had been that morning, as he and Dakon had supervised the preparation of the meal. As a precaution they’d kept a few rassook alive to feed samples to, watching to see if any poison affected the birds. They also mixed supplies from different estates together, in the hope that if one had been tampered with it might be diluted enough to not be lethal.

“Ah,” Narvelan said. “They have finally come out to greet us.”

The magician surged past Jayan, galloping towards the king and Sabin. Looking after him, Jayan realised the walls of the estates ahead were no longer a distance from the road, but instead hugged it. The roofs and upper floors of the buildings within were all that were visible and suggested that most of the area inside was filled with dwellings and other structures.

Where these walls started, a road bisected the one they were riding along. Along this stood a line of people. Sunlight glinted on jewelled and decorated clothing. Jayan counted and realised there were more magicians in this line than in the Kyralian army. He felt his heart sink.

But as he drew closer to the Sachakans he noted other details. Many were old, stooped and grey-haired. Others were as young as a new apprentice. A few were cripples, missing limbs or carrying walking canes. The few women among them looked either terrified or determined, most standing close to a man of their own age or one old enough to be their father.

Jayan exchanged a look of dismay with Dakon. Nearly a third of the enemy were clearly not suited to fighting.

This is a pathetic sight
, Jayan thought.
And yet instead of feeling relieved that we might have a better chance of winning, I feel sad for these Sachakans. And I can’t help admiring them for being prepared to defend their city.

Magician Sabin and Dem Ayend were riding close on either side of the king now. King Errik was looking from one to the other as they talked, his brows lowered into a frown. The army slowed as it approached the line of Sachakans, finally coming to a halt less than twenty strides away. By then the leaders had stopped talking. They sat, regarding the enemy in silence for a long moment. Then the king nudged his horse a few paces forward.

“Magicians of Sachaka,” he called out. “We know not all of you supported Takado’s invasion of Kyralia. If you surrender to us, if you can prove you were no supporter of Takado and his allies, if you co-operate and show no resistance, we will spare you.”

No voice rose in answer. No Sachakan stepped forward, or left the line. Jayan watched and waited.

“Get on with it, then,” one of them shouted. “You came for a fight. So fight. Or are you going to wait until we die of old age?”

A faint sigh of nervous laughter spread across the enemy line. Jayan saw a few strained smiles.

“Do you speak for the emperor?” the king asked.

“The emperor is waiting at the Imperial Palace. If you get that far he might spare a moment to see you.”

Magician Sabin rode forward to join the king. “I don’t think we have any choice,” Jayan heard him say.

“No,” the king replied. “And we didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

He raised a hand, palm outward, to signal that the army should move into position. A flash seared Jayan’s sight as one of the Sachakans took this to mean the start of the battle. The strike scattered off a shield and Sabin sent off a strike in return. As the Kyralian army spread out into formation, groups forming out of habit as much as intention, the air between the lines filled with flashing, vibrating magic.

As Dakon moved away to take his usual place among the advisers and leaders, Jayan found Everran and Avaria nearby and lent his strength to the pair. He realised he felt neither fear nor confidence. All he felt was the same disquiet that had nagged at him all morning.

At about the same time as the first Sachakan fell, Jayan’s strength ran out.

Unlike the rest of the army, he’d only taken part in one attack on an estate. Even Dakon had more power, since he’d taken the strength of the magician who’d died from poisoning.
I am probably the weakest Kyralian magician here. Strange that nobody questioned my decision to not kill slaves, when they clearly questioned Dakon’s.

He remained in the shelter of Everran and Avaria’s group. Instead of feeling useless, as he’d feared he would at this point, he felt as if he wasn’t really there. Absent. An observer at most.

The Sachakans were not protecting each other, he noticed. The lessons Takado’s army had learned had not been taken back into Sachaka.
Where is Takado?
Jayan wondered.
Why isn’t he leading this last, desperate force? I can believe Emperor Vochira is hiding away, letting others fight for him, but I think Takado would face us if he had the choice. For all his nasty ways, he did have pride in himself and his homeland.

If the king had been correct about the number of magicians in Sachaka before the war, then there must be more of them elsewhere. The force facing the army was large, but it didn’t approach a hundred. And some of them looked like unlikely candidates for being taught magic. They might only have had their power loosed and been taught to strike in the last few days. If so, then they might not even have achieved full control yet.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the apprentices and servants waiting several paces behind, as close as they dared to come to the battle, but not so far away that the army couldn’t protect them if they were attacked. Between them, the apprentices had probably recovered enough power overnight to ward off a few strikes, but not a concentrated attack from higher magicians.

“What are they…?” Lord Everran exclaimed quietly. Jayan glanced at him, saw he was looking at the Sachakans, and followed the man’s gaze.

The enemy line had fragmented. Sachakans were dashing sideways, or back along the main road. Disappearing into doorways, though a few were caught by strikes before they could reach them.