The Magician’s Apprentice Page 14

  She looked down at the metal worker. With magic she could dry him out and warm him up, but in the state he was in it would only terrify him further. She looked up at the man who had volunteered to return him to his home.

  “Have you got any blankets?”

  The volunteer met her gaze, and nodded. “I had better get my cart.” Then he grimaced and looked at the river. “And I suppose I’d better fetch the boy, too,” he added.

  She gave him a grim smile of thanks. “Do it quickly and I might be able to arrange for you to follow us across the bridge.”

  He hurried away. Tessia headed for the wagon. Though she would have preferred to accompany the metal worker to his home and make sure he was treated properly, he appeared to be in good hands. She was not the local healer and the man had no serious injuries. Her father always knew when to insist and when to let people take care of themselves.

  Still, if Dakon was willing to wait a little, the metal worker might get home sooner. And if his helper crossed the bridge after them, he would probably remain behind them until he turned off the road. If the sick man took a turn for the worse, she would be close by and still able to assist.

  CHAPTER 12

  The only objects Tessia could see were the sphere of light floating above them, the wagon, its occupants, the horses that pulled it, and a circle of constantly shifting ground below them. Nothing broke the darkness on either side, though occasionally a tiny pair of eyes flashed in and out of sight. If it weren’t for the endless flow of rutted road surface passing below them, she’d have wondered if they were moving at all, or simply bumping up and down on the spot.

  Dakon’s games had ended hours ago. Much earlier they had said farewell to the metal worker’s helper, as he pulled up before a shop in a small village. The incident at the bridge might have happened days before, it felt so long ago.

  Travelling was not as exciting as it ought to be, Tessia decided. It involved long stretches of discomfort and boredom. And hunger. The delay at the broken bridge meant travelling in darkness, well past their usual mealtime.

  The evenings were usually much more pleasant. They’d stayed with a village master the first night. Every village and town had a master who oversaw the work of the locals, and the houses they lived in contained a few extra rooms for when their own or any passing lord visited. The next night they’d stayed with a town master of Lord Gilar’s, and tonight they would be staying with Lord Gilar himself.

  Suddenly Jayan straightened in his seat. Moments before he had been snoring softly, in danger of slumping against Dakon – she had been half hoping he would, just to see his embarrassment, but also hoping he wouldn’t as it would embarrass Dakon. Now his eyes widened with hope.

  “A light,” he said. “We’re nearly there – at last.”

  Tessia turned to see a single, lonely light ahead of the wagon. It flickered in the misty air. As they drew near she saw it was a simple oil lamp hanging from a pole where another road intersected with the main thoroughfare. Tanner directed the horses onto the side road.

  Watching the light shrink behind them, Tessia wondered whether they would have found the turn if it hadn’t been sign-posted so effectively. She figured their host must have sent a servant out to light it.

  The new road was less rutted and bumpy. The horses slowed as the road slowly and steadily rose along the side of a hill. She was looking forward to reaching their host’s house, but was not looking forward to meeting the man himself. What if the bridge had failed out of neglect? She had been steeling herself these past few hours, expecting she would have to show a respect she didn’t feel, and resist the urge to speak her mind.

  The wagon turned a sharp corner, leading them into a treed valley. Turning around, Tessia saw that, at the far end of this valley, a wide stone façade glowed with the light of many, many lamps.

  It was bigger than the Residence. Bigger than any building she’d seen before. A high wall stretched between the two arms of the valley, broken by two towers. The only windows were tiny slots in the towers, high up. In the middle of the wall was a huge pair of wooden doors.

  “Lord Gilar’s Residence,” Lord Dakon said. “It was built before the Sachakans conquered Kyralia, when there were few magicians and fortifications like this, which can only really repel non-magical attack, were worth the time and expense of construction.”

  As the wagon approached the doors they began to swing open. They rolled through into a narrow courtyard. Another wall towered before them. They passed through a doorless entrance and into a covered, cobbled area.

  There a short, thin man with grey streaking his black hair stepped out from between another pair of wooden doors, smaller than the ones at the front but still large.

  “Lord Gilar,” Dakon said, climbing to the ground.

  “Lord Dakon,” the man replied. The pair grasped each other’s upper arms briefly. As Jayan, Tessia and Malia disembarked, servants emerged from a side door. One stepped forward to murmur something to Tanner, who was now holding the halter of one of the horses. Another beckoned to Malia, who smiled and moved to the woman’s side.

  “You have met Apprentice Jayan before,” Dakon said.

  “Indeed I have,” Gilar said in a slightly husky voice. “Welcome back, young man. And this is your new apprentice?” He turned to smile at Tessia. “The one you mentioned in your letter?”

  “This is Apprentice Tessia,” Dakon told him. “A natural – the daughter of Mandryn’s healer, Veran.”

  “Welcome, Apprentice Tessia,” Gilar said.

  “Thank you, Lord Gilar.”

  He turned back to Dakon and gestured towards the double doors. The two magicians moved inside. Jayan followed. Tessia trailed after, noting that Malia had disappeared with the servants. She felt suddenly unsure of her place.

  I’ve never been a part of a servant’s world, attending to the needs of people more important and wealthy than me. I’ve not been part of the world of powerful people either. She suddenly felt lucky to have grown up in that comfortable state between the two opposites, answering to a powerful man, but of a higher status and with greater freedoms than a servant. Though now that she considered it, the purpose of a healer was to attend to the needs of all who needed him or her, including servants. They served the servants. That ought to put them on the bottom of the service hierarchy.

  “You were delayed?” Lord Gilar asked.

  “Yes. I made you a temporary bridge today. When we came to the second bridge after the border post, we found it had collapsed.”

  Gilar’s nodded slowly. “I know the one. I’ve been undecided whether to replace it for a while now. It was strong enough for light usage, but the road has been getting busier in recent years.”

  “The rain and swollen stream probably contributed, too. A metal worker’s cart fell when it collapsed. A boy drowned.”

  Gilar grimaced. “I’ll have to find out the details. I have to confess, I was hoping the bridge’s weakness would act in our favour if we were ever attacked.”

  Attacked? Tessia thought. By who?

  Dakon’s eyebrows rose. “More likely it would prevent locals from fleeing.” He shrugged. “The temporary bridge I made is rough and narrow. You’ll need to replace it with a proper bridge wide enough for vehicles to pass each other, and with railings for safety.”

  Gilar shrugged. “Of course. But let’s leave the planning for later. Right now you and your companions would probably appreciate a bath and a meal. I’ve had the servants prepare rooms for you all.”

  They’d entered a greeting hall that, despite the scale of the place, was modest in size. Gilar led them up a staircase to a corridor, then indicated rooms on either side for Lord Dakon, Tessia and Jayan.

  “I’ll leave you to your baths,” he said. “I’ll see you at dinner.” A servant girl stood waiting outside Tessia’s room. As Tessia moved to the door the girl opened it for her. Within the room was the usual bedroom furniture, Tessia’s travel trunk, and a tub full of water. Tw
o servants bent over the tub, one pouring water out of a large jug and the other holding a similar, empty vessel. The women turned, bowed to Tessia, lifted their burdens and filed out of the room.

  The servant girl drew Tessia’s attention to scrubs and oils, combs and drying cloths.

  “Would you like someone to help you, Apprentice Tessia?” she asked.

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Come out when you are ready and I’ll take you to dinner.” After the girl had left, Tessia heated the bath water with magic, then peeled off her travelling clothes. The hem of her dress was caked with dried mud. Her stockings were stained and her boots were a sad shadow of their former selves. The warm water soothed muscles aching from the jolting of the wagon and she lay quietly for a short while, glad to be still again, before climbing out and drying herself. Looking into the bath, she saw that the water was a soupy brown clearing slowly as sediment settled at the base of the tub.

  I had no idea I was so dirty, she mused. And how did I manage to get mud as far up as my elbows?

  She changed into a clean dress, then combed out her hair and tied it neatly back. Then she opened the door to her room and peered out. The girl servant was waiting outside. She nodded to Tessia.

  “Follow me, Apprentice Tessia.”

  “Have Lord Dakon and Apprentice Jayan left already?”

  “Yes, Apprentice Tessia.”

  They embarked on another journey through the house, down to the lower level. The servant stopped at a doorway and with a graceful gesture indicated that Tessia should enter.

  “The Lady Pimia and her daughter Faynara await within,” she said.

  Moving through the door, Tessia saw that two women were seated at a small round table. One was older, though perhaps not as old as Lord Gilar. Tessia guessed she was Lady Pimia. The younger woman was short and curvaceous, with a pretty face. Both looked up at Tessia, then rose to greet her.

  “You are Apprentice Tessia?” the older woman asked then, not waiting for an answer, continued, “I’m Lady Pimia and this is Faynara. Please sit down. You must be starving. The servants are ready and will bring the first course immediately.”

  Tessia let herself be ushered to a chair. As she sat, the other two women returned to their seats. Tessia looked around the room, though more to confirm her suspicions than to examine her surroundings. There were no other tables or chairs.

  “Thank you for arranging the bath, Lady Pimia,” Tessia said. “Will Lord Gilar and Lord Dakon be joining us?”

  Lady Pimia waved a hand. “No, no. The men will be eating together. They have important things to discuss. Magic. Politics. History.” She shrugged dismissively and Faynara made a face. “We would hardly get a word in if we all ate together.”

  Tessia felt a pang of disappointment. Was it usual for women apprentices – or even magicians – to be excluded from “important” discussions? She felt a pang of jealousy and annoyance. Why should Jayan get to talk about magic, and not she? Well, I can’t be sure Jayan is there. It might just be Gilar and Dakon, two magicians nattering about whatever magicians natter about, while Jayan is eating somewhere on his own.

  “So how did you come to be an apprentice magician?” Faynara asked.

  Without warning, Takado’s leering face flashed into Tessia’s mind. She ignored it and the contempt it roused. “By accident. I didn’t even know I’d used magic until Lord Dakon told me, and then he wasn’t sure until he tested me.”

  “You’re a natural!” Faynara exclaimed, smiling with delight. “How lucky for you. What did you do before then?” A tiny crease had appeared between Lady Pimia’s eyebrows.

  “I assisted my father, who is a healer.”

  “Ah,” Pimia said approvingly. “That would explain why you speak so well.”

  “I have magical ability,” Faynara said proudly.

  Tessia looked at the girl with interest. “How many years have you been learning?”

  “Oh, I’m only a latent.” Faynara shrugged.

  Tessia frowned. “Latent?”

  “We decided not to develop Faynara’s powers,” Lady Pimia said, smiling at her daughter. “She wasn’t interested in becoming a magician, but her ability should bring a fine choice of suitors. Her older brother is apprenticed to Lord Ruskel of Felgar ley.”

  “So... does learning magic deter suitors?” Tessia asked hesitantly. The two women laughed quietly. “Perhaps,” Pimia said. “Mostly, learning magic would take up too much of Faynara’s time and she would gain little benefit from it, apart from a few useful tricks. She’s better off learning the arts of running a home and being a good wife.”

  “You can’t become a magician just for a few useful tricks,” Faynara added, grimacing. “You have to go all the way. That takes years. There’s no point marrying and having children until you’re finished, and you have to go wherever your master goes.”

  Tessia thought about Jayan’s view that a magician has a responsibility to protect his people and his country. She wondered what he would think of Faynara’s dismissal of her opportunity to become a magician. Gilar’s daughter would be of no use to Kyralia if it was attacked.

  Or would she? As a latent magician, she would be a powerful source of magic. Listening to the young woman list the advantages of not learning magic, which included the ability to shop and visit friends in Imardin whenever she wanted, Tessia found it hard to imagine Faynara being a dedicated student.

  Then she remembered Lord Dakon’s lesson about physical limitations restricting what a magician could do with his or her power. Perhaps there were mental limitations as well. While teaching someone who did not apply himself would be difficult, teaching someone who simply did not take her power seriously could be dangerous.

  “Gilar informed me that you will be staying a day, then leaving the morning after,” Pimia said. “We will have to think up an entertainment for you to enjoy tomorrow.”

  Tessia smiled and nodded. I wonder what these women consider entertainment?

  “Is this your first visit to Imardin?” Faynara asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh!” Faynara clapped her hands together. “How exciting for you. I must tell you who the best jewellers, shoemakers and tailors are!”

  Although she doubted Dakon’s allowance would extend far enough for such luxuries, Tessia decided she might as well take the young woman’s advice. Even if she did not need it herself, she might be socialising with women who felt such things were important.

  After all, if I’m not going to be included in important discussions, I might have to have unimportant ones with women like Pimia and Faynara. It will be useful to know what they consider good conversation... and entertainment.

  The night before they had set off for Imardin, Dakon had told Jayan about the Circle of Friends and the true purpose of his visit to Imardin. The information had left Jayan feeling both shock and pride. He was pleased Dakon had decided to entrust him with the secret, but horrified by the possibility that their fears might be proved justified, and Kyralia be invaded by Sachaka again. Annoyingly, he couldn’t enjoy his new status as confidant because every time he thought about it, he inevitably wound up worrying about the future. Was he ready for battle, if it came? Was Kyralia?

  When he considered the possibility of Dakon’s being killed he felt a tightness in his chest. He hadn’t realised how much he had grown to respect and like his master and teacher. He found himself worrying about Tessia, too. If they faced an attack, Dakon would need his help. But Tessia was too new to magic to be an effective fighter. She did not have the time or inclination to become one, either. She would need protecting. But his loyalty must be to Dakon first. He had to trust that the magician would protect Tessia, or else send her away somewhere safe.

  Dakon didn’t want Tessia knowing the real reason for his trip to Imardin. Travelling far from her parents for the first time would be challenging enough, without adding to it the fear of an attack from Sachaka. This first trip to Imardin ought to be an enjoyable
one.

  So, not surprisingly, she had not been admitted to the dinner conversation tonight. Apparently she’d eaten with Lord Gilar’s wife and daughter. That would have been a new experience for her. It’s obvious Gilar chose Pimia to be his wife for her magical bloodline, not her intelligence, and Faynara isn’t much better. Still, they’re well mannered. They wouldn’t look down on Tessia openly, or try to manipulate or trick her.

  Conversation between Dakon and Gilar had been almost solely about the threat from Sachaka and Dakon’s coming meeting with the king. Lord Gilar had switched between declaring that no Sachakan would ever dare to invade Kyralia to believing they were all doomed, then back again. These shifts from confidence to despondency confused Jayan at first, then disappointed him.

  Lord Gilar is a bit mad, I suspect. He’s got no grasp on reality. I can’t imagine him being a help during battle – more a hindrance. Dakon had to talk Gilar out of battle-training his farmers or getting them to abandon their crops and animals to spend months building walls around his borders. Jayan wondered if Gilar’s education had included any battle strategy at all. The man overestimated how long a physical barrier could delay a magician. One moment he couldn’t see the value of his people as sources, the next he was excessively concerned about not letting them become a resource for the enemy.

  By the time dinner ended Jayan was exhausted from suppressing the desire to tell the man what an idiot he was, and immensely grateful to have a teacher as sensible as Lord Dakon. I pity any apprentice who finds himself receiving lessons from Lord Gilar.

  They finished late in the night, long after the women of the house had retired to bed. Instead of heading to his room, Dakon indicated he wanted Jayan to follow him into the small seating room next door.

  “Not tired?” Jayan asked.

  Dakon grimaced. “Of course, but we don’t get much opportunity to talk privately at the moment. What did you think of Lord Gilar?”