The Magician’s Apprentice Read online

  “Sounds good to me,” Narvelan agreed, nodding.

  “Good.” Werrin moved around the table and straightened his clothes. “Now it’s time to meet and discuss our experiences and strategies. We have some new contributors to introduce to the harsh realities of war, and to our way of doing things. I can rely on your support?”

  Dakon glanced at Narvelan, who smiled. “Of course.”

  “Naturally,” Narvelan replied.

  Werrin smiled. “Then let’s go strip a few well-meaning magicians of their delusions and see if they don’t flee back to Imardin.”

  He walked past them to the door, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Though you can be sure the king would send them scurrying back again,” he added. “If it weren’t for some firm and sensible advice, he’d be here himself. Sabin wants the chance to whip us into some semblance of a cohesive army before the king comes out to lead us.”

  “He does, does he?” Narvelan said.

  “Yes.” Werrin looked at Dakon. “So there’s going to be a lot of instruction required in our new fighting techniques.”

  Dakon sighed in mock despair. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed so quickly. There had to be a catch somewhere.”

  Werrin turned back to the door. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of assistants. I’ll make sure of it. My only concern is that the Sachakans won’t give us any time for preparation. Sabin thinks they may have left the road to avoid being caught between us and our reinforcements. But he believes they will only roam about in the farms and villages of Noven ley long enough to gather more strength before heading towards Imardin. We need to be ready to stop them.”

  CHAPTER 32

  In a large walled courtyard behind one of the grander houses in Calia, twelve apprentices had separated into six pairs. Each was taking turns practising the trick of sending magic to another. Only small amounts of magic were being channelled, and to make the exercise more interesting Dakon had them knocking broken tiles off the top of the back wall.

  Leaning against the side of the courtyard entrance, Jayan sighed. Only three magicians had volunteered to teach Ardalen’s method to the magicians and apprentices who had arrived the day before. It made what should have been a fast exercise into a day-long task.

  They’d taught the magicians in the morning easily enough. In the afternoon they’d tackled the apprentices. Unfortunately, many of the magicians had resisted having their apprentices taught by other magicians. Dakon had told Jayan that though he’d managed to convince most of them of the benefits, a few had only agreed to it when Sabin had pointed out that the apprentices’ families might not look favourably on their sons and daughters dying in battle for the lack of training that had been offered to all.

  The apprentices had not been easy to teach, however. Some of them had barely begun their training and two hadn’t even achieved full control of their powers yet.

  After an inexperienced one burned the young man he was trying to send magic through by mistake, Dakon had decided to rearrange the three groups by splitting them based on experience: one group of those who had been only recently apprenticed, one for those who had been training for a few years, and one for those close to being granted their independence. Dakon, assisted by Jayan, had chosen the inexperienced group to teach, and it had taken a lot longer than the others.

  Jayan had found teaching both frustrating and rewarding. It depended on the apprentice. Some were attentive and talented. Some were not. The former were gratifying to instruct, but he also found that if he managed to encourage – or bully – one of the latter into grasping something it was also very satisfying.

  I always thought I’d put off taking on an apprentice for as long as possible, but I can see now there are benefits – other than the obvious one of gaining power.

  The inexperienced apprentices ranged in age from twelve – much younger than the usual age for apprenticeship – to eighteen. He suspected the older ones had been chosen because their masters preferred to teach someone less gifted from their own family than someone more gifted from outside.

  One of the apprentices giving power to another yelped, then turned to regard the other pairs suspiciously. A young woman – the only one in the group and one of two who had arrived with the reinforcements – tried to hide her smirk, but her victim obviously knew her well enough to guess where the attack had come from. Jayan assumed she’d let loose a strike in his direction that was only powerful enough to sting. The victim and the apprentice he was giving power to exchanged a look, then scowled.

  Jayan glanced at Dakon. His master was watching the tiles flying off the top of the wall, and probably hadn’t noticed.

  There was a low laugh of triumph, this time from the companion of the previous victim. A moment later the girl yelped. She turned to glare at the pair. Seeing the look of anger and calculation in her eyes, Jayan decided it was time to intervene.

  Before he had a chance to speak, a messenger hurried into the courtyard and spoke quietly to Dakon, who nodded. As the messenger left again Dakon turned to face the group.

  “That will be enough, I think. You all seem to have grasped it now. If you have a chance, practise what you’ve learned, but only use small amounts of power. You may return to your masters.” He walked towards the courtyard entrance, smiling ruefully as he passed Jayan. “Another meeting. Will you tell Tessia, when she returns?”

  “Of course.”

  The apprentices had gathered into one group to chat, and as Dakon left they started towards the entrance. All nodded to Jayan as they passed through. The last was the young woman. She was, he guessed, two or three years younger than him. A good-looking girl, but by the way she smiled at him it was clear she was well aware of it.

  “Master Jayan, isn’t it? I hear you were at the battle in Tecurren,” she said, regarding him from under long eyelashes.

  “Apprentice Jayan,” he corrected her. “And yes, I was there.”

  As she tipped her head to one side and smiled at him again, he felt an unexpected wave of annoyance and disgust. He knew that look. He’d encountered enough female magicians to know when one was sizing him up.

  “What was it like?” Her eyes widened. “It must have been so scary.”

  “We knew we outnumbered them and would probably win.” He shrugged.

  Moving to the entrance, she looked outside. The alley was empty. “Look. They’ve not bothered to wait for me. Escort me to the meeting hall?” She hooked a hand around his elbow. “You can tell me all about the battle on the way.”

  He took her hand and removed it from the crook of his arm, then let it go.

  Her eyes flashed with anger, but then her expression softened again and she nodded as if chastised. “That was too forward of me. I am just trying to be friendly.”

  “Are you?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

  She frowned. “Of course. What else would I be doing?”

  He shook his head. “We’re at war, not a party. This is not the city. Not the place for... for flirting and looking for a husband. Or lover.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know that, but—”

  “And there are other young women here. Younger, less experienced women. Do you realise how your ‘friendliness’ may affect them? How it may encourage young male apprentices to think all female magicians are . . . available? Or older magicians to assume women are too foolish and distractable to make good magicians?”

  Her eyes went wide with astonishment. Her mouth opened, then closed again. Then her eyes narrowed and she spoke through gritted teeth.

  “You are assuming too much, Apprentice Jayan.”

  She lifted her chin and stalked out of the courtyard. Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Young men will always entertain stupid ideas about women, no matter how demure or friendly they are. You’ve just proved that yourself. Before laying blame, take a good look at yourself. You might be surprised to find who is the foolish, distractable one.”

  Then she stro
de away.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Jayan sighed. The anger that had risen at her flirting ebbed too quickly, leaving him feeling ashamed of his outburst.

  “Well, that was entertaining.”

  The voice came from behind him. He turned to see Tessia standing over by the door to the house, and winced as he realised she might have heard only the end of the exchange.

  “I object to being sized up like a prize,” he told her. “If she knew my father she would not be so keen on my bloodlines.”

  Tessia smiled and walked towards him. “It may not be your bloodlines she’s so keen on. Apparently, or so Avaria’s friends assure me, you’re rather handsome. And you’ve also experienced battle, which gives you a certain kind of glamour that some women are attracted to.”

  He stared at her, unable to think of a response that wouldn’t sound foolish or vain. She smiled.

  “Well, I’m glad I’m not, if that’s the way you react.” She glanced around the courtyard. “How did the lessons go?”

  Relieved by the change of subject, he nodded to the courtyard entrance and they both stepped out and started towards the main road. “They took a while, but I think most of them have grasped it.”

  She sighed. “Dakon finally gives another lesson, and it’s something I already know.” She grimaced. “We’re not going to get any more training, are we?”

  He shook his head. “Not now that Dakon is one of the army’s advisers. Any time we’re not riding or fighting, he’ll be at meetings.”

  “It must be so frustrating for you, being so close to the end of your training.”

  “It is. But if I had finished, then I might only be a higher magician for a matter of weeks, or days if we are defeated. At least this way Dakon has two apprentices to draw from.”

  “But if you were a higher magician, you’d have your own source to draw from, and there’d be another fighter in the army.” She chuckled. “And the women would have even more reason to annoy you with their flirting and their interest.” She paused and looked at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Dakon taught you higher magic soon, for that very reason.”

  Jayan felt his heart skip. She might be right. But the possibility roused an unexpected reluctance. Why? Am I afraid to stand on my own? To be responsible for my own life?

  Tessia was smiling at him knowingly. I’ve never said anything to her about my frustration at the delay in finishing my training, he thought. Yet she’s worked it out for herself. She understands me. And I think she’s finally stopped hating me.

  And then it was obvious why he was reluctant to end his apprenticeship with Dakon. It would take him away from Tessia.

  He blinked in surprise. Is that really it? Do I truly feel that way about her? He felt a strange sensation, both pleasant and painful. Amazing how the admiration he’d always felt was suddenly enhanced by his recognition of it. Then he remembered what she’d said earlier.

  “ . . . gives you a certain kind of glamour that some women are attracted to. Well, I’m glad I’m not...”

  His heart sank.

  It was possible his feelings would change. Then it’s possible hers might, too. He pushed that thought aside. No. Leave it be. War is not a good time to be caring too much about anyone, or having them care about you. At any point either one of us could die. I’d rather not make it more painful – for either of us. In fact, she’d be better off hating me.

  Which is just as well, because I’m very good at making women do that.

  As Hanara headed towards the house Takado had claimed in the tiny village, he passed two slaves carrying away the remains of the reber that had been roasted for the night’s meal. Pausing, he ducked in close and grabbed a large chunk of meat. Only half of the animal had been eaten, he saw, so the slaves would eat well tonight. But Takado was often awake late into the night discussing strategy with his closest allies, so if Hanara and Jochara didn’t grab what food they could, it would be gone by the time Takado retired.

  He gnawed away at the meat as he hurried to the house, where he retrieved a bottle of wine from the store of them he’d found in the cellar. He paused to finish the meat, chewing and swallowing quickly, so that he could wipe the grease from his hands and not risk dropping the bottle on the return trip.

  To make up for the lost time, he jogged back, nursing the bottle carefully. Only Takado’s three closest allies remained by the campfire they’d set up in the middle of the road: Rokino, his old ichani friend, Dachido and Asara.

  Hanara prostrated himself and held up the bottle. He felt it taken from his grasp. Takado said nothing. After a short wait, the slave crawled backwards on all fours, then sat on his haunches and looked around. Jochara was nowhere to be seen.

  “You don’t have enough slaves,” Asara said, looking at Takado. “A leader ought to have more slaves than anybody else.”

  Takado shrugged. “I could try to bring a few more over, but I can’t go myself and those I’d trust with the task I need here. It would be such a menial favour to ask it would be insulting.”

  “Then take one of mine,” Asara offered. “No, take two.” She turned and called out. “Chinka! Dokko!”

  Turning to look over his shoulder, Takado looked at Hanara, his expression thoughtful and amused. “You’d serve me better if I didn’t wear you out all the time, wouldn’t you, Hanara?”

  Hanara bent forward to place his forehead on the ground. “My life is yours to use as you wish,” he said.

  The woman laughed. “Ah, here they come.”

  Stealing a quick glance, Hanara saw that Takado’s attention had moved away from him again. All the magicians were looking at a pair of slaves who had thrown themselves on the ground in front of Asara. A woman, lean and strong, and a large, well-muscled man.

  “They are two of my best.” Asara said proudly. “They’re in good condition. Chinka used to work in the kitchens, but she is also useful at cleaning, mending clothes and shoes, treating minor hurts, light carrying duties and other general tasks. Dokko is a good maker – useful for more than just heavy work – and he’s good with horses.” She turned back to Takado. “Which I am surprised you haven’t acquired yet. We would travel faster with them.”

  “Would we?” Takado shook his head. “Horses need feed, rest and slaves to look after them. And unless we have horses for our slaves we will travel just as slowly as we are doing now.”

  “But we don’t always have to keep our slaves with us. We could attack rapidly, without warning, and return to them.”

  Takado nodded. “Yes, there may be times when the risk of leaving them alone and vulnerable will prove worthwhile. Still, for now I prefer not to have to take care of a horse.”

  “You won’t have to, if you take my slaves.”

  Takado fell silent, his expression thoughtful. Hanara held his breath. How would two more slaves change his own situation? There would be less work. He would certainly welcome having less to carry each day, though that would not remain the case if Takado gained more belongings. But Hanara had no skills to make up for the man’s brawn, or the woman’s usefulness. And if Takado took the woman to bed . . . Hanara knew he could never compete with that.

  But I am a source slave, he thought. I will always have higher status because of that.

  Takado was nodding. “I accept. I thank you, Asara. It is a thoughtful gift. They are clearly valuable slaves for you to be losing.”

  The woman waved a hand gracefully. “I will miss them, but I can see now that I brought too many slaves with me. You need them more than I.”

  “Chinka. Dokko,” Takado said. “Get up and sit behind Hanara.” As the pair obeyed, Hanara kept his eyes downcast. He heard them settle behind him. For a moment he thought one had disobeyed Takado, taking a position beside him, but when he looked he saw that Jochara had returned. The young man carried a metal tube that contained the map of Kyralia that Takado had brought with him.

  “You are both – and you, too, Jochara – to follow Hanara’s orders unless they co
nflict with mine. Do you understand?”

  Murmurs of affirmation followed. Hanara stared at the ground, his eyes wide. He’s put me in charge! His heart began to pound. It was a frighteningly important responsibility. What if they won’t obey me? What if they do something wrong? Will I be punished for it? What—

  An unfamiliar voice interrupted his panicked thoughts.

  “Magicians... coming . . .” a slave was panting even as he threw himself on the ground. “Many. Fast. From. Emper...or. Wear. Rings.”

  The magicians hadn’t moved, but their smiles had vanished. None voiced the worries written on their faces. Had the emperor sent forces to stop Takado? Were they about to attack? Whistles came from scouts to one side of the village.

  Takado rose. He snapped out orders, sending Hanara and the other slaves scampering about to alert all the magicians, or the slaves of the magicians who were asleep since they knew best how to rouse their masters. Soon there were magicians and slaves crowding the road. Hanara positioned himself a step behind Takado, who stood between Dachido and Asara.

  Interesting, Hanara thought. Rokino has known Takado the longest, but he is an ichani. Dachido and Asara outrank him and are a lot smarter than Takado’s other ichani friends. Lately Takado is favouring their company and opinions above the others’.

  As the last stragglers joined the crowd around Takado a large group of men rode into sight around a bend in the road. Globes of light hovered over them. The brightness set weapons and beaded clothes aglitter. Hanara looked for the rings of the emperor and caught a glint of gold here and there.

  There must have been at least forty magicians. Of their slaves there was no sign.

  The man at the head of the group was tall and wrinkled, with white in his dark hair. He led the men forward and stopped ten strides from the crowd. Back straight and head high, he scanned the crowd once before his gaze returned to Takado.