The Magician’s Apprentice Page 21

  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.

  “Lord Dakon didn’t come to Imardin just to sort out some trade matters and see some friends,” Avaria told her. “He is part of a group of magicians known as the Circle of Friends, made up of country magicians and the city magicians who support them. We’re all concerned that Kyralia may soon be invaded by Sachakan magicians. He came here to gain assurance from the king that if any of the outer leys were taken, the city magicians would help to regain them.”

  Tessia nodded to indicate she understood. She found she was not surprised. It explained the king’s conversation with her the previous night. And why she hadn’t been included in the gatherings Dakon and Jayan had attended. Dakon would have wanted as few people to know about the threat as possible. He wouldn’t have wanted her worrying helplessly about the safety of Mandryn and her parents while she was in Imardin.

  My parents. Perhaps I should have been worried. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left...

  Was her father treating injured villagers right now? Or was he one of the injured...or dead. No. She could see him, determined and exhausted, working away. She held on to that image. It was true until it had to be otherwise.

  “None of us thought an attack would come this soon,” Avaria said, staring out of the wagon through the cover flap. Then she cursed. “The king must be wondering if we set it up.”

  Tessia said nothing. Every word Avaria uttered solidified this new reality. Made sense of it. Tessia did not want it to be real. She wanted to go back to Kendaria’s house, back to her seat, and start time again from that moment.

  But I can’t.

  Suddenly she didn’t care if she never saw Kendaria or Avaria or any of the women who had befriended and welcomed her again. She didn’t care if she never saw another dissection. She just wanted to go home. To rush back to Mandryn and learn the truth, whether it was good or terrible.

  And Dakon will want to as well, she realised. We’ll probably leave tonight. It’ll be a fast, exhausting journey. Probably on horseback rather than by wagon.

  By the time the wagon stopped it was all she could do to stop leaping past Avaria and rushing inside the house to find Dakon. Gritting her teeth, she climbed out decorously. Once inside Avaria strode directly to the master’s room. Dakon, Jayan and Everran were there, talking.

  “– volunteers,” Everran was saying. “They’ll be no more than a day behind you.”

  They looked up as Avaria and Tessia arrived. Dakon opened his mouth.

  “Don’t worry, Dakon,” Avaria s
aid. “I’ve told Tessia your real reason for visiting Imardin. I expect you’ll all be leaving as soon as possible.”

  “Yes.” Dakon looked at Tessia, his expression full of concern and apology. “I am sorry, Tessia. I don’t know if your parents are alive or not. I hope so.”

  She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. “Jayan and I are leaving as soon as Lord Werrin, the magician the king has sent to accompany us, arrives. You will stay here.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to stop her.

  “It will be a rough journey, Tessia. We have the use of the king’s messenger horses, so we will be riding from dawn each day until it is too dark to ride. When we get there we don’t know if we’ll find Takado and his allies waiting for us or not. It will be dangerous, especially for a new apprentice.”

  “I’m no soft city woman,” she told him. “I can ride, for long hours if needed. And you taught me that apprentices, new or not, are not supposed to stray from their master’s side during times of conflict. You should have the extra strength of a second apprentice to call on.”

  Dakon paused, then frowned and began to speak, but Avaria cut him off.

  “Take the girl, you fool. She has healing knowledge. We can only hope it won’t be needed.”

  Tessia winced. If it was needed then her father... no, she must not think about that. She must not lose hope.

  Dakon stared at Avaria, then looked at Everran and Jayan. Both men nodded. He sighed and his shoulders slumped.

  “Very well then. You have many tough days ahead, Tessia. If you find you are unable to bear them, say so and I’ll arrange... something.”

  “Not as tough as what the people of Mandryn just went through,” she replied quietly.

  As he met her gaze, she saw the same worry she felt, and suddenly her heart filled with love for this man. He truly cared about his people, and she had come to appreciate how rare that was.

  She only hoped those people were still alive to be cared for.

  CHAPTER 18

  Jayan was sure there was no word to properly describe the weariness he felt. He was beyond “tired”. He was long past “exhausted”. He was sure he was on the brink of passing out completely. It took all his will to convince his legs to continue gripping the saddle, and his back to stay upright.

  Some time in the last day or so his awareness had begun to shrink. First he became oblivious of their surroundings unless someone drew his attention to them. Then he was aware of Dakon, Tessia and Werrin only as shadows that should always be near; he would only rouse from this state if they weren’t. Then, as the soreness of his body increased and he endeavoured to ignore the pain, he eventually became wrapped up solely in himself for most of the long hours on the road, trusting his horse to keep up with the others without his direction.

  A strange feeling crept over him as they descended into the valley he’d called home for so long. A premonition, perhaps. He was certain something bad was about to happen. But as Dakon rode on in front, crossing the bridge and entering Mandryn, Jayan found he was incapable of speaking. Unable to move, to tug on the reins and stop his horse. Unable to stop himself looking at the corpses strewn everywhere: on the road, in doorways, hanging out of windows. He looked, but he could not see details. Exhaustion made his sight blurry, his awareness frayed. His ears were deaf. Or perhaps it was just the stillness and silence of a village occupied only by dead people.

  Then he did hear something. Footsteps. The sensuous metallic slide of a blade. He looked at Dakon walking in front. (When had they dismounted? He was so tired, he must have done it without realising.) The magician did not appear to have heard anything. Jayan opened his mouth to shout a warning, but no sound came out. It’s an ambush! he wanted to shout. Watch out! From shadows emerged indistinct figures. There was a flash of dazzling light and—

  “Jayan.”

  Startled, Jayan opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings. He was back astride the horse. He was not in Mandryn. The road climbed a ridge before him, but the horse had stopped.

  “Jayan! Wake up!”

  Tessia. The first voice had been different. Dakon’s. He straightened and turned in his saddle to see the pair several paces behind, staring at him. Werrin, the king’s magician, was frowning.

  I fell asleep in the saddle, he thought. Lucky I didn’t fall off. Then he smiled wryly. I finally master the skill of sleeping in the saddle and what do I do? Have that same nightmare.

  Turning his mount round, he directed it back down the road to join the others. Dakon’s expression was grim. Dark shadows hung under his eyes. Tessia was pale but her eyes were bright.

  For the first few days of their journey, to Jayan’s annoyance, he had worried constantly about Tessia. As he had expected, she hadn’t complained once and rode silent and determined throughout each day. Because he knew her now, he’d worried that she wouldn’t speak up if she was suffering, and would fall behind. But in the last few days he’d been too caught up in his own weariness to do more than check now and then that she was still with them, and he felt guilty about that.

  “Lord Werrin and I will go on from here,” Dakon said. “You and Tessia will wait here.”

  Jayan frowned, then looked round again and felt a shock of recognition. This was a part of the road near Mandryn he and Dakon had occasionally ridden along on their morning rides. The village was not far away.

  Tessia looked as if she would have protested, if she hadn’t been too tired to argue. Jayan felt the same. If there were more than one or two Sachakans watching the village, ready to attack any magicians that might approach, the chances were the four of them wouldn’t survive. Dakon no doubt felt that there was no point in risking Jayan and Tessia’s lives as well as his own and Werrin’s. Perhaps he also wanted to make sure there were no nasty sights for Tessia to stumble upon. Jayan watched as Werrin nudged his horse after Dakon’s and the pair rode up the ridge, then disappeared over the top.

  “I’m supposed to stay near, aren’t I?” Tessia asked quietly. “Safer for me and him, or something like that.”

  “Perhaps,” Jayan replied, thinking of his nightmare. “But it won’t make any difference if there are Sachakans waiting in ambush.”

  She said nothing to that, just sat staring at the ridge.

  “I guess we could get off and walk around a bit,” he suggested after a while. “Get our legs working again.”

  She looked down at her horse, then smiled grimly at him. “I suspect if I did I’d never manage to get back on again. Dakon would come back to find me lying on the side of the road, my legs no longer working.”

  Jayan nodded in agreement. “We should be ready to flee if any Sachakans turn up, too.”

  “Well, at least this time I can be sure none of them will want to seduce me.” She ran a hand through the hair that had escaped her braid and grimaced. “I’m filthy, and I have riding sores on top of riding sores.”

  He gazed at her wearily, amazed that she was still able to make light of their situation when her home and confirmation of the fate of her parents was a short ride away. She looked back at him and her smile faded, then she looked away.

  Embarrassed, he realised. I should say something clever and reassuring. But everything that came to mind sounded trite or likely to give her the impression he was romantically interested in her – which he certainly wanted to avoid.

  So he said nothing. The haunted look that had come into her eyes so many times during the ride had returned. Definitely better to say nothing, he decided.

  When Dakon and Werrin appeared on the ridge Tessia felt a wave of nausea. Part of her desperately wanted an answer, to be released from the suspense of not knowing the fate of her parents. The other part didn’t want any news, if it were bad news.

  The two magicians wore grim expressions. As they slowed to meet her and Jayan, Dakon looked straight at her. His expression was sympathetic. He shook his head.

  For a moment she searched for another meaning – something els
e he might be trying to communicate to her. Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to face the truth. Dakon was not fool enough to make such a gesture and not know how she would read it.

  They’re dead, she told herself. Father. Mother. Gone. Just like that. It felt unreal, as had the news of the attack so many days ago. What will it take to make me believe this? Do I even want to?

  “The village is safe for us to visit,” Dakon told them. “Locals say the Sachakans headed for the mountains after the attack. Most of the buildings are burned or damaged so I’d advise against entering them in case they collapse. The dead . . .” He paused to draw in and then let out a deep breath. “The dead have been buried. Narvelan’s people did not know how long it would take for us to get here. The few survivors – some children who managed to hide – were able to provide names for the markers.”

  They came to the top of the ridge. Tessia hadn’t realised they were moving. In the distance a thin thread of smoke marred the sky.

  “Narvelan has returned to his village to evacuate his people,” Dakon continued. “We are to join him once we are finished here. It is possible, despite what we’ve been told, that the Sachakans have returned in stealth to await our return.”

  They continued in silence. It was easier for Tessia to concentrate on the tension and fear of the others than think about her parents. She eyed distant clumps of trees or houses, looking for movement or human shapes. Was Takado watching? The leering face flashed through her memory and she felt a rush of fear.

  Then she remembered her mistake earlier. Her quip about Sachakans seducing her. Jayan had given her an odd look and she had realised what she had revealed . . . this time I can be sure none of them will want to seduce me. This time. Unlike last time. He must have understood what had prompted her to use magic the first time. Did he think she had encouraged Takado? Did he wonder how far Takado’s “seduction” had gone?

  At least I don’t have to worry about Mother and Father finding out.

  She felt a wrench inside at the thought. Suddenly all the things they would never find out came to her. They would never see her become a higher magician. Her mother would never attend her wedding – if she ever married. Her father would never hear about her visit to the Healers’ Guild, or the dissection she’d watched. She’d never assist him in healing patients again.