The Novice (46 page)

“We weren’t fighting,” one of the novices said. “Just playing.”

Yikmo’s eyes narrowed. “Really? So you were using stunstrikes outside of battle—on a defenseless young woman.”

Regin swallowed. “Her shield failed before we realized it, my lord.”

Lord Yikmo’s eyebrows rose. “It appears you are neither as disciplined nor as skilled as Lord Garrel claims. I’m sure Lord Balkan will agree.” Yikmo’s eyes scanned the group, noting identities. “Get back to your rooms, all of you.”

The novices hurried away. As Lord Yikmo turned to regard her, Sonea wished she’d had the strength to slip away while his attention had been on the novices. He looked very disappointed. She forced her legs under herself and rose unsteadily.

“How long has this been going on?”

She hesitated, not wanting to admit it had happened before. “An hour.”

He shook his head. “The stupidity of these novices. Attack the High Lord’s favorite? In numbers, too.” He looked at her, then sighed. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

“Please, don’t tell anyone.”

He considered her, frowning. She took a step forward, then swayed as the corridor began to spin. A hand grasped her arm to steady her. She felt a little Healing energy tingle through her arm. As soon as she had regained her sense of balance she brushed his hand from her arm.

“Tell me, did you strike back?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“What use would that be?”

“None, but most people, when outnumbered, will fight back out of pride. But perhaps you refrained for the same reason.”

He regarded her expectantly, but she looked away and remained silent.

“Of course, if you had targeted one or two of the weaker novices, you might have left them as exhausted as you. It would be a discouragement to the others, at the least.”

Sonea frowned. “But they had no inner shields. What if I hurt one of them?”

He smiled, pleased. “That is the answer I want to hear. Yet I think there is more to your reluctance to strike than caution.”

Sonea felt a flare of anger. Once again he was pushing and poking her, prying out her weaknesses. But this was not a lesson. Wasn’t the humiliation of being found by him enough? She wanted him to leave her alone, and thought of the one subject that made most magicians flinch.

“Would you be so eager to strike, if you’d seen a boy die at the hands of magicians?”

His gaze did not waver, but sharpened instead.

“Ah,” he said. “So
that’s
it.”

She stared at him, appalled. Would he turn even the tragedy of the Purge into another lecture? She felt anger growing, and knew she would not be able to hold her temper much longer.

“Good night, Lord Yikmo,” she said between gritted teeth. Then, turning away, she strode down the passage toward the main corridor.

“Sonea! Come back.”

She ignored him. He called after her again, anger and command in his tone. Fighting the weariness in her legs, she quickened her stride.

As she reached the corridor she felt her fury ebb. He would make her regret her rude departure, but for now she didn’t care. All she wanted was a warm bed and to sleep for days.

As the door opened, bright sunlight streamed in to dazzle Lorlen’s eyes. He shaded his face with a hand and followed Akkarin onto the University roof.

“We have company,” Akkarin observed.

Following his companion’s gaze, Lorlen saw a lone figure in red robes standing by the railing.

“Lord Yikmo.” Lorlen frowned. “Balkan must have given him access.”

Akkarin made a low, disapproving noise. “There are so many identities imprinted into the door, I wonder why we bother to lock it.”

He strode toward the Warrior. Lorlen hurried after, worried that Akkarin intended to remove Yikmo’s access to the roof.

“Balkan would not have granted him access if he did not regard him highly.”

“Of course. Our Head of Warriors knows that his methods of teaching are not suited to every novice. I’m sure he’s aware that Yikmo draws attention away from his own weaknesses.”

Yikmo hadn’t noticed them approaching. The Warrior leaned on the railing, his attention captured by something below. He looked up when Akkarin was a few steps away, and straightened hastily.

“High Lord. Administrator.”

“Greetings, Lord Yikmo,” Akkarin returned smoothly. “I have not seen you up here before.”

Yikmo shook his head. “I rarely come up—only when I need to think. I’d forgotten how good the view is.”

Lorlen looked around at the grounds, and at the city to one side. Letting his gaze drop to the gardens, he saw that a few novices had ventured outside for the midbreak. Though snow still covered the ground, the sun held a hint of the coming spring warmth.

Closest to them was a familiar figure. Sonea was sitting on one of the garden seats, her head bent over a book.

“The source of my contemplation,” Yikmo admitted.

“Is she improving?” Akkarin asked.

“Not as rapidly as I had hoped,” Yikmo sighed. “She still hesitates to strike. I’m starting to understand why.”

“Oh?”

Yikmo smiled crookedly. “She’s far too nice.”

“How so?”

“She’s worried that she might hurt somebody—even her enemies.” Yikmo frowned and faced the High Lord. “Last night, I discovered Regin and several other novices tormenting Sonea. They had worn her down to near exhaustion, and were using stunstrikes.”

Lorlen felt his heart skip.
“Stunstrikes,”
he hissed.

“I reminded them of the Guild rules, and sent them to their rooms.”

Yikmo looked at the High Lord expectantly, but Akkarin did not reply. He stared down at Sonea with a gaze so intense that Lorlen wondered how she could not sense it.

“How many novices were there?” he asked.

Yikmo looked aside as he considered. “Twelve or thirteen. I can identify most of them.”

Akkarin nodded. “That won’t be necessary. There is no need to bring further attention to the incident.” His dark gaze turned to the Warrior. “Thank you for informing me of this, Yikmo.”

Yikmo paused as if he might say something more, then nodded and moved away toward the door. When the Warrior had disappeared, Akkarin’s gaze fell to Sonea again. The corners of his lips curled upward slightly.

“Twelve or thirteen. Her strength is growing quickly. I remember a novice in my class whose power grew as fast.”

Lorlen regarded Akkarin closely. In the bright sunlight the High Lord’s pale skin looked sickly. Shadows lay under his eyes, but his gaze was sharp.

“As I recall, you progressed just as quickly.”

“I’ve often wondered if we would have, had we not been constantly trying to outdo each other.”

Lorlen shrugged. “Probably.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps the rivalry was good for us.”

“Good for us?” Lorlen gave a short laugh. “Good for
you.
Believe me, there was nothing good about second place. Next to you, I may as well have been invisible—at least when it came to the ladies. If I’d known we’d both end up bachelors, I wouldn’t have been so jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” Akkarin’s smile faded. He turned away to stare at the horizon. “No. Don’t be jealous.”

The reply was so faint the Administrator wondered if he had really heard it. Lorlen opened his mouth to ask why he shouldn’t be, but Akkarin’s gaze had slid to the ruined Lookout.

“How are Davin’s plans for the Lookout going?”

Sighing, Lorlen put aside the question and turned his mind back to Guild matters.

By early afternoon, Dannyl and Tayend had left the last of Capia’s shabby outer homes behind. Farms and orchards covered the hills with squares of different greens. Occasionally a patch of newly turned soil added a splash of red-brown to the pattern.

Their horses plodded along at a comfortable pace. Servants had gone ahead to announce their arrival at the first stop, the home of Tayend’s sister. Dannyl drew in a deep breath and sighed contentedly.

“It is good to be travelling again, isn’t it?” Tayend said.

Dannyl looked at his companion in surprise. “You’re actually looking forward to it?”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’d thought our last journey had put you off travelling.”

Tayend shrugged. “We had some unpleasant experiences, but it wasn’t all bad. This time we’re staying inside the borders of Elyne, and on solid ground.”

“I’m sure we could find a lake or a river with boats to hire if you start to feel our trip lacks that feeling of adventure you craved.”

“Snooping around in other people’s libraries will be adventure enough,” Tayend said firmly. He looked into the distance and narrowed his eyes. “I wonder which Dem has the books we’re after.”

“If any of them do.” Dannyl shrugged. “For all we know, Akkarin could have visited a Dem somewhere else, and travelled to the mountains for a completely different reason.”

“But where did he go afterward?” Tayend glanced at Dannyl. “That’s what intrigues me the most. We know Akkarin went to the mountains. After that there is no mention of him. Not in the city records, nor in people’s recollections. I doubt that he could have slipped back into Capia in secret, and it was several years before he returned to the Guild. Did he stay in the mountains all that time? Did he travel along them, north or south? Or did he go through them?”

“Into Sachaka?”

“It would make sense. The Sachakan Empire wasn’t old enough to call ancient, but it was a highly magical society—and he may have discovered references to even older cultures.”

“We have plenty of material in our libraries about the empire,” Dannyl said. “But I doubt there is much left to find in Sachaka. What the Guild didn’t take after the war, it destroyed.”

Tayend’s brows rose. “That was nice of them.”

Dannyl shrugged. “It was a different time. The Guild was newly formed, and after the horrors of the war the magicians were determined to prevent another. They knew that if they allowed the Sachakan magicians to keep their knowledge of magic, there would be never-ending wars of vengeance between the two countries.”

“So they left it a wasteland.”

“Partly. Beyond the wasteland there is fertile soil, farms and towns. And Arvice, the capital.”

Tayend frowned. “Do you think Akkarin went there?”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that he did.”

“So if he visited Sachaka, why did he keep the fact to himself?” Tayend paused, thinking. “Perhaps he spent all those years researching the Sachakan Empire and found nothing, and was too embarrassed to admit it. Or,” Tayend smiled, “perhaps he spent the time in idleness and didn’t want to admit
that
—or he did something the Guild would not approve of—or he fell in love with a young Sachakan girl, married her, and vowed never to return, except that she died, or left him and he—”

“Let’s not get too carried away, Tayend.”

Tayend grinned. “Or perhaps he fell in love with a young Sachakan boy, and was eventually found out and expelled from the country.”

“This is the High Lord you’re speaking of, Tayend of Tremmelin,” Dannyl said sternly.

“Does it offend you that I suggest such a thing?” There was a hint of defiance in the scholar’s tone. Dannyl met Tayend’s gaze levelly.

“I may be digging up a little of his past to aid my research, Tayend, but that does not mean I have no respect for the man, or his position. If he would be offended, or his position was threatened by speculation, then I would discourage it.”

“I see.” Sobering, Tayend looked down at his reins.

“But even so,” Dannyl added, “what you suggest is impossible.”

Tayend smiled slyly. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because Akkarin is a powerful magician. The Sachakans expelled him? Ha! Unlikely!”

The scholar chuckled and shook his head. He was silent for a while, then he frowned. “What will we do if we learn that Akkarin did travel into Sachaka? Will we go there, too?”

“Hmmm.” Dannyl turned to look back down the road. Capia had disappeared behind the undulating hills. “That depends on how much time it takes me to perform my duties as Guild Ambassador.”

When he had heard Errend groaning about his coming biyearly tour of the country, Dannyl had offered to take his place, thinking it would be an ideal opportunity to leave Capia and continue his research without raising questions about shirking duties. Errend had been delighted.

To Dannyl’s dismay, he had learned that the journey would wind about the entire country, that he would be required to spend weeks in places where there were no private libraries, and that he wouldn’t be leaving until summer. Impatient to start, Dannyl had persuaded Errend to arrange the trip earlier, but there was no way he could omit any of the destinations from the schedule.

“So what exactly will you be doing?” Tayend asked.

“Introducing myself to country Dems, checking on magicians, and confirming magical potential in the children the King will be sending to the Guild. I hope you won’t find it all very boring.”

Tayend shrugged. “I get to snoop around private libraries. That’s worth ten journeys. And I get to visit my sister.”

“What is she like?”

Tayend’s face lit up with a bright smile. “She’s wonderful. I think she worked out I was a lad long before I did. You’ll like her, I think, though she has a way of getting to the point that is quite disconcerting.” He pointed down the road. “See that row of trees on the hill ahead. That’s where the road to her property begins. Let’s move on. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry!”

As Tayend urged his horse into a trot, Dannyl felt his own stomach rumble. He looked ahead at the trees Tayend had indicated and nudged his mount’s flanks with his boots. Soon they were turning off the road, riding beneath a stone arch and starting toward a distant country mansion.

Returning to the library after her evening lesson, Sonea noted the shadows under Tya’s eyes.

“Did you stay much later last night, my lady?”

The librarian nodded. “When these deliveries come in, I have to. There’s no other time to sort them.” She yawned, then smiled. “Thank you for staying back to help me.”