The High Lord bmt-3

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The High Lord bmt-3 Page 25

by Trudi Canavan


  Lorlen looked up at the King. He was nodding.

  "I will consider your words, Lord...?"

  "Rothen."

  "Thank you, Lord Rothen."

  Rothen dropped to one knee, then rose and moved away. The ruler watched him go, then drummed his fingers on the back of the High Lord's chair.

  "How do you think the High Lord's novice will react when her guardian is exiled?"

  Sonea stood in utter silence.

  The Warriors surrounding her and Akkarin had enclosed them in a barrier that blocked all noise in the hall. She had watched as magicians had gathered to debate. After a long break, the Higher Magicians had returned to their seats and began an intense discussion.

  Akkarin shifted a step closer, but didn't look at her.

  "You chose an inopportune time for disobedience, Sonea."

  She winced at the anger in his voice. "Did you really think I'd let them execute you?"

  There was a long pause before he replied.

  "I need you to remain here and continue the fight."

  "How can I do that with the Guild watching my every move?"

  "Little opportunity is better than none. If nothing else, they would have you to call on as a last resort."

  "If they had me, they would never have considered allowing you to live," she retorted. "I won't let them use me as an excuse to kill you."

  He began to turn toward her, then stopped as sound abruptly returned. Lorlen stood up and struck a gong.

  "It is time to judge whether Akkarin of family Delvon, of House Velan, High Lord of the Magicians' Guild, and Sonea, his novice, are guilty of the crimes of which they have been accused."

  He held out a hand. A globe light appeared above it, then floated up to the ceiling. The other Higher Magicians followed suit, then hundreds more globe lights floated up from the rest of the magicians, and the Guildhall was filled with brightness.

  "Do you judge that Akkarin of family Delvon, of House Velan, is undoubtedly guilty of the murder of Lord Jolen, his family and servants?"

  Several of the globes slowly turned red, but most remained white. The Higher Magicians stared up for a long time, and Sonea realized they were counting the globes. When they looked down again at Lorlen each shook their head once.

  "The majority choose the negative," Lorlen declared. "Do you judge that Akkarin of family Delvon, of House Velan, is guilty of seeking knowledge of, learning, practicing and, in addition to earlier accusations, killing with black magic?"

  At once all of the globes turned red. Lorlen did not wait for the Higher Magicians to count the globes.

  "The majority choose the affirmative," Lorlen called. "Do you judge that Sonea, the High Lord's novice, is guilty of seeking knowledge of and, in addition to this earlier accusation, learning, practicing and killing with black magic?"

  The globe lights remained red. Lorlen nodded slowly.

  "The majority choose the affirmative. The punishment for this crime as set down by law is execution. We, the Higher Magicians, have debated the appropriateness of this penalty in light of the reasons given for the crime, if they be true. We would prefer to delay judgment until the validity of these reasons is established, but due to the nature of the crime, feel immediate action must be taken." He paused. "We have chosen exile as Akkarin's punishment.'"

  The hall filled with muttering as this was considered. Sonea heard a few weak protests, but no magician raised his or her voice to argue.

  "Akkarin of family Delvon, of House Velan, you are no longer welcome in the Allied Lands. You will be escorted to the nearest non-allied country. Do you accept this judgment?"

  Akkarin looked up at the King, then dropped to one knee.

  "If the King wills it."

  The ruler's eyebrows rose.

  "I do," he said.

  "Then I will go."

  The hall was silent as Akkarin rose to his feet again.

  Lorlen's sigh of relief was audible. He turned to regard Sonea.

  "Sonea. We, the Higher Magicians, have decided to offer you a second chance. You will remain here with us under these conditions: you must vow to never use black magic again, you will not be allowed to leave the Guild grounds from this day, and you will never be allowed to teach others. Do you accept this judgment?"

  Sonea stared at Lorlen in disbelief. The Guild had exiled Akkarin yet forgiven her, even though they had both committed the same crime.

  But it wasn't the same. Akkarin was their leader and his crime seemed worse because he was supposed to represent the Guild's values. She was just an impressionable young woman. The slum girl. Easily corrupted. They believed she had been led astray, and that Akkarin had embraced black magic willingly. In truth she had chosen to learn it, and he had been forced to.

  So they would allow her to stay in the temporary safety and the comfort of the Guild, while Akkarin was sent out of the Allied Lands to the nearest non-allied country, which was... She caught her breath.

  Sachaka.

  Suddenly she could not breathe. They were going to send him into the hands of his enemies. They must know that if his story was true he would die.

  But this way, they won't have to risk a battle they might lose.

  "Sonea," Lorlen repeated. "Do you accept this judgment?"

  "No."

  She was surprised by the anger in her voice. Lorlen stared at her in dismay, then looked at Akkarin.

  "Stay." Akkarin told her. "There is no sense in us both going."

  Not if we're going to Sachaka, she thought. But perhaps, together, we might survive. She could help him strengthen himself. Alone, he would only grow weaker. She clung to this small hope and turned to face him.

  "I made Takan a promise to take care of you. I intend to keep it."

  His eyes narrowed. "Sonea—"

  "Don't tell me I'll get in the way," she said under her breath, conscious of the many witnesses. "That didn't stop me before, and it won't now. I know where they're sending you. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not." Turning to the front, she raised her voice so all could hear.

  "If you send High Lord Akkarin into exile, you must send me too. Then, when you come to your senses, he might still be alive and able to help you."

  The hall was silent. Lorlen stared at her, then looked up at the Higher Magicians. Sonea could see defeat and frustration in their faces.

  "No, Sonea! Stay here."

  Sonea felt her stomach turn over at the voice. She forced herself to look across the room at Rothen.

  "I'm sorry, Rothen," she said, "but I will not stay."

  Lorlen took a deep breath. "Sonea, I can give you only one more chance. Do you accept this judgment?"

  "No."

  "Then let it be known throughout the Allied Lands that Akkarin of family Delvon, House Velan, formerly High Lord of the Magicians' Guild, and Sonea, formerly the High Lord's novice, have been exiled for the crimes of learning, practicing and killing with black magic."

  He turned to Lord Balkan and said something in a voice too quiet to hear. Then he descended from his seat, strode into the circle of Warriors and stopped a step away from Akkarin. Reaching out, he grasped the black robe in both hands. Sonea heard the material rip.

  "I cast you out, Akkarin. Do not enter my lands again."

  Akkarin stared at Lorlen, but did not speak. The Administrator turned away and approached Sonea. He met her eyes for a moment, then looked down, took hold of her sleeve and ripped it.

  "I cast you out, Sonea. Do not enter my lands again."

  Turning on his heel, he strode away. Sonea looked down at the rip in her sleeve. It was small, only a finger-length long. A small gesture, but so final.

  The Higher Magicians rose to their feet and began to descend from the tiers of seats. Sonea's heart sank as Lord Balkan stepped into the circle and approached Akkarin. As he tore the black robes and spoke the ritual words, the rest of the Higher Magicians formed a line behind him, and she realized they were waiting their turn.

 
As Balkan approached she forced herself to watch as the Warrior tore her robe and spoke the ritual words. It took all her determination, but she managed to meet his gaze, and then those of each of the magicians who followed.

  When the Higher Magicians had all performed the ritual, Sonea sighed with relief. The rest of the Guild rose from their seats. Instead of walking out of the Guildhall doors, they began to approach Akkarin one by one.

  It looked as if she would have to endure this ceremony of rejection many, many more times.

  The realization unsettled her. It took all her will to face them. She kept still as magicians who had taught her stopped to tear her robes, their expressions disapproving or disappointed. Lady Tya's ritual words were barely audible, and she quickly hurried away. Lord Yikmo gazed at her searchingly, then shook his head sadly. At last there were only a few magicians left. She looked up as they entered the circle, and felt her stomach twist.

  Rothen and Dannyl.

  Her former guardian approached Akkarin slowly. He stared at Akkarin, his eyes burning with anger, then Akkarin's lips moved. She could not quite hear what he said, but the fire in Rothen's eyes died. Rothen murmured a reply and Akkarin nodded once. Frowning, Rothen reached forward to tear Akkarin's robe. He spoke the ritual words, then kept his eyes on the floor as he took the few short steps to her.

  She felt her throat constrict. Rothen's face looked haggard and deeply lined. He looked up at her and his pale blue eyes shimmered as tears gathered in them.

  "Why, Sonea?" he whispered hoarsely.

  She felt moisture spring into her eyes. She closed them tightly and swallowed hard.

  "They send him to his death."

  "And you?"

  "Two may survive where one would fail. The Guild has to find out the truth for itself. When it does, we'll return."

  He drew in a deep breath, then stepped forward and embraced her.

  "Take care, Sonea."

  "I will, Rothen."

  She choked on his name. He stepped away. As he retreated, she realized he hadn't torn her robes. She felt a trickle of moisture run down her cheek and quickly wiped it away as Dannyl stepped in front of her.

  "Sonea."

  She forced herself to look up at him. Dannyl met her gaze levelly.

  "Sachakans, eh?"

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  He pursed his lips. "We'll have to look into it." He patted her shoulder, then turned away. She watched him walk to Rothen's side.

  Her attention was drawn away then as, one by one, the Warriors surrounding her and Akkarin stepped in to perform the ritual. When they were done, she looked around and discovered that the magicians had formed two lines leading to the Guildhall doors. Behind them stood the novices. She sighed with relief that they hadn't been included in the ritual. Facing Regin in that situation would have been... interesting.

  The Higher Magicians formed a second circle around the Warrior guard, with Lorlen at the front. As the Administrator started walking toward the Guildhall doors, this double escort followed, and proceeded past the two lines of magicians out of the Guildhall to the University doors.

  Outside the building was a circle of horses, held in position by grooms. Two horses waited in the center. Akkarin approached the central pair, Sonea following. As he swung up into the saddle of one, she hesitated and looked at the remaining horse dubiously. "Are you doubting your decision?" Sonea turned to find Lord Osen standing beside her, holding the reins of his mount.

  Sonea shook her head. "No, it's just... I've never ridden before." He glanced back at the crowd of magicians pouring out of the doors behind her, then turned his horse so it blocked them from view.

  "Put your hand on the front of the saddle, and then put the toe of your left boot in here." He took hold of her horse's stirrup and held it still. Sonea did as he said and, following his further instructions, she managed somehow to get into the saddle.

  "Don't worry too much about directing him," he told her. "He'll follow the others."

  "Thank you, Lord Osen."

  He looked up at her and nodded once, then turned away and swung up onto his own mount.

  From her new vantage point, she could see the crowd of magicians gathered outside the Guild. The Higher Magicians stood in a line along the bottom step of the University, except for Lord Balkan who had joined the guard of Warriors on the horses. Sonea looked for the King, but he was nowhere in sight.

  Lorlen stepped forward and slowly approached Akkarin. He looked up and then shook his head.

  "You have a second chance of sorts, Akkarin. Use it well."

  Akkarin regarded him for a moment. "And you, my friend, though I fear you will face worse troubles than I do. We will speak again."

  Lorlen smiled crookedly. "I'm sure we will."

  He moved away and returned to his place among the Higher Magicians, then nodded at Balkan. The Warrior nudged his horse into motion and the rest of the escort followed suit.

  As her horse began to move, Sonea gripped the pommel of her saddle. She looked at Akkarin, but his eyes were fixed on the Guild Gates. When she had passed through the entrance, she cautiously turned to take one last look at the University, standing tall and graceful among the other Guild buildings.

  A pang of sadness and regret caught her by surprise.

  I hadn't realized how much I considered this place home, she thought. Will I survive and return to see it again?

  Or, a darker voice added, will I come back only to find it a pile of rubble?

  Part Two

  19

  A Request

  Sonea shifted in her saddle and flexed her aching thigh muscles. Though she Healed away the soreness each night, it did not take much riding before her body was hurting again. Lord Osen had told her that she would grow used to the saddle if she didn't Heal herself, but she couldn't see the point in toughening up for riding when the horse would soon be taken from her.

  She sighed and looked up at the mountains ahead. They had first appeared on the horizon the day before. The shadowy line had slowly grown larger and this morning the sun had revealed slopes of jagged rock and forest ascending to high peaks. The mountains looked savage and impassable, but now that the escort had reached the low hills at the base, Sonea could see a ribbon of white winding between the trees toward a dip between two of the peaks. Somewhere at the end of that road stood the Fort and the entrance to Sachaka.

  The slowly changing landscape fascinated her. She had never roamed beyond the edge of the city of Imardin. Travelling was a new experience, and she might have enjoyed it, if not for the circumstances.

  At first the road had run alongside fields striped with rows of different plants. The workers digging the soil, planting or harvesting the crops, were men and women, young and old. Both adults and children were seen herding domestic animals of all sizes along the road. Little houses stood alone in great stretches of land. Sonea wondered if their occupants were happy living such an isolated life.

  From time to time the road had taken them through clusters of houses. At a few of these villages, Lord Balkan had sent one of his Warriors away to buy food. At midday on each of the previous two days, they had encountered a magician and several local men waiting with fresh horses. They changed mounts to allow the group to continue travelling through each night. The escort did not pause or stop to sleep, and she assumed they were Healing away their weariness. When she had asked Lord Osen why they didn't refresh the horses with Healing power, he told her that animals didn't endure the mental fatigue that came with a lack of rest as humans did.

  So far, she felt she was coping with the lack of sleep fairly well. The first night had been clear, and their way had been lit by moonlight and starlight. Sonea had dozed as well as could be managed on horseback. Clouds had covered the sky the next night, and they had travelled under a cluster of globe lights.

  Looking at the mountains looming so close, Sonea wondered if they would have a third night in Kyralia.

  "Halt!"
/>   The beating of hooves on the road changed to a shuffling as the escort slowed to a stop. Her horse moved forward to stand next to Akkarin's. Sonea felt a spark of hope as Akkarin turned to regard her. He hadn't spoken to her, or anyone, since leaving Imardin.

  But he said nothing and turned away to watch Lord Balkan.

  The Head of Warriors handed something to one of his magicians. Money to buy food at the next village, Sonea guessed. She looked around and realized that they were standing at a meeting of roads. One continued toward the mountains; the other, smaller track descended into a small, sparsely forested valley, where a group of houses huddled close together beside a narrow river.

  "Lord Balkan," Akkarin said.

  All heads immediately turned to face him. Sonea resisted an urge to smile at the escorts' expressions of alarm and surprise. So he's finally decided to speak.

  Balkan regarded Akkarin warily. "Yes?"

  "If we enter Sachaka in these robes we will be recognized. Will you allow us to change into ordinary clothing?"

  Balkan's gaze shifted to Sonea, then back to Akkarin. He nodded and turned back to the waiting Warrior.

  "Clothes as well, then. Nothing fancy or bright."

  The magician nodded, then gave Akkarin and Sonea a measuring look before riding away.

  Sonea felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Did this mean they were close to the pass? Would they reach the border today? She looked up at the mountains and shivered.

  She had hoped many times to hear a mental call from Lorlen, ordering them back, yet she did not believe it would come. The manner of their departure from Imardin had made it clear to all that she and Akkarin were not welcome in Kyralia any more.

  She grimaced as she remembered. Balkan had chosen a winding route through the city that took them through every Quarter. At each major intersection of streets they had stopped, halting all activity as Balkan announced her and Akkarin's crimes, and the Guild's punishment. Akkarin's expression had darkened with anger. He had called the magicians fools, and had refused to speak since.

 

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