The slave shook her head.
“Then one of the old . . . you must be joking! Which one, then?” The soberly dressed man had spoken the most intelligently, Stara noted, whereas the older garish man had seemed little smarter than his son.
“Master Kakato’s father, Master Tokacha.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask, mistress.”
Stara gave the woman a withering look.
“I was ordered to teach you customs, nothing more.” Vora spread her hands. “To do any more than ordered is to disobey.”
“If I order you to tell me anything that might be useful or important, unless that information is specifically restricted by my father, would you be able to?”
The woman smiled and nodded. “Of course, mistress.”
“Then tell me. Everything that might be useful or important.” Stara lifted the necklaces from her neck. It was amazing how tiring the weight of so much jewellery could be. One of them caught on the headdress and she cursed. She felt Vora’s hands plucking at it and soon she was free.
“How was Master Ikaro?” Vora asked as she stowed the head-dress in a wooden box.
“I have no idea. He only looked at me once.”
“Your brother is a kind man. And talented. But like you, a slave. You should ask to see him. I think Master Sokaro would allow it.”
“I doubt my brother would. If he cares that I’m here at all, it’s more likely he wants me married and out of the way.” Stara peeled herself out of the wrap and gave it to Vora, who handed her a sleeping shift.
“Why would you say that?” the old woman asked.
“He made it pretty clear what he thought of women the last time he visited us in Elyne.”
“That was some time ago. You may find he has changed. He would be a good ally. Shall I arrange it, mistress?”
Stara turned away. “I don’t know. Ask me in the morning.”
“Yes, mistress.”
Moving to the bed, Stara sat down and relished a full, unsuppressed yawn.
“I know what you were doing tonight,” Vora said from the doorway. “It will take more than that to put off your prospective husband.”
Her lips were back in that narrow line. Stara frowned in annoyance. “Sachakans may treat women like stock, but we both know women aren’t dumb animals or mindless objects. We have minds and hearts. Nobody can blame us for wanting, at the least, to influence who we are sold to.”
Even as she said the words, Stara knew she had given herself away. If not by her behaviour during the evening, which Vora must have been able to see or hear, then by responding to Vora’s accurate guess.
The woman lips softened and quirked upward.
“You’re not going to influence anyone by being so obvious about it, mistress.” Then she turned and vanished into the corridor beyond.
Stara stared at the empty doorway and considered a possibility she hadn’t thought of before. Could Vora actually be on my side?
CHAPTER 24
As Tessia replaited her freshly combed hair she noticed that the voices of the magicians and apprentices outside the tent walls had grown from a few occasional murmured comments to a full, multi-voiced discussion. After tying off the plait, she crawled outside and stood up.
The morning sun filtered through the forest, striping the small abandoned field they had camped in with shadows. A knot of magicians had gathered between the tents, their apprentices hovering close by. All wore expressions of worry or annoyance. Spotting Jayan, she moved to his side.
“What’s happening?”
“Lord Sudin has gone, taking Aken with him.”
“Does anybody know why?”
“No, but Lord Hakkin has admitted that he and Lord Sudin discussed strategies for luring Sachakans into revealing themselves last night, or possibly scouting for themselves. He thinks Sudin might have left to try out one of his own ideas.”
“We are getting closer to Sudin’s ley,” Mikken added, moving to her other side. As she turned to regard him he smiled briefly. She found herself noticing, not for the first time, that he was rather good-looking. And nice, too, she added. Cheeky when the other apprentices are around, but never in a mean way.
“When did he leave?” she asked him.
“We’re not sure, but probably not long ago,” Jayan replied. She turned to see him scowling. Annoyed that a magician should so foolishly disobey Lord Werrin, she guessed. He saw that she was looking at him and his expression abruptly became neutral.
The knot of magicians broke apart.
“Pack up,” Werrin ordered. “Make it quick.”
At once the camp filled with activity and noise as all hastened to dismantle tents and stuff belongings into the saddlebags of the pack horses. When all were ready and mounted a scout led the group away, his gaze on the ground. Magicians and apprentices followed close behind, Werrin at the front. Servants followed nervously at the rear, but Werrin was reluctant to split the magicians up in order to keep the servants protected between them, especially as they were often forced by the terrain to travel in single file and a group of servants in the middle would be just as vulnerable to a surprise attack as one at the end.
Tessia heard Jayan’s stomach growl, and smiled grimly. She doubted they’d be eating any time soon. At least their supplies of food would last a little longer. The fresh supplies Lord Hakkin and the other newcomers had brought with them had only lasted five days, and with a larger number to feed and so much of the local area looted by Sachakans, the magicians were finding it ever harder to gather enough food for people and horses. Werrin had sent a scout south requesting that regular deliveries of supplies be organised. Dakon had expressed his worry to Tessia and Jayan that, if not arranged carefully and without magicians as escort, those supplies would only end up feeding the Sachakans.
The mood of the group had changed with the arrival of the newcomers. The magicians’ debates were more heated. Dakon had not revealed what the disagreements were about, but from watching closely Tessia was sure a battle of some sort was going on between Hakkin and Narvelan, and the rest of the magicians had either taken one side or the other, or were undecided.
Whatever the conflict was, she was not surprised to learn it might have led to Sudin’s leaving the group. Has he left to return home? Or is he planning some sort of attack on the Sachakans? I’d have guessed the former, since it would be madness to confront the enemy alone. But soon it became clear that the tracks of Sudin’s and Aken’s horses weren’t heading south. They were heading north-east, away from the city.
Confrontation might not be Sudin’s plan, though. He might have decided to scout for himself. Perhaps make his way to the pass, from which no scouts had returned. Or maybe he intended to find a high place from which he might spot the Sachakans, then guide the rest of the group with mental instructions. It would be risky, as the Sachakans would hear the same communications and no doubt send someone to stop him.
Jayan’s horse drew alongside hers. She glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking. His brow was creased in a frown. Had he guessed what Sudin was up to? She could not ask him. They were not to speak while travelling, unless necessity demanded it.
Looking ahead, she saw that they were moving into a narrow valley, and the horses, once again, were forced into a line. A new hierarchy had formed to include the newcomers, and she smiled wryly as she watched magicians hesitate or push forward to take their place in an order of rank only they understood.
The walls of the valley drew together and she found their closeness oppressive. She checked her shield to make sure it was strong. As time passed, they climbed ever higher. Up and up, steeper and steeper, until she began to worry that they would have to dismount and lead the horses.
Finally, the line of riders visible before her began to shorten as those at the front reached a crest of some sort and moved out of sight beyond it. As her own horse reached the end of the ascent she sighed with relief. They were riding a
long a ridge now. Through the thin spread of trees she could see the face of higher slopes. She realised they could probably be seen as easily in this scant cover.
– Lord Werrin!
She jumped. The mental voice was Sudin’s, and it carried a hint of panic. Looking around, she saw heads turning as magicians and apprentices glanced about the forest as if the call had reached their ears rather than their minds.
– Lord Sudin? Werrin replied. Where are—
– Too late! We’re—
A pause followed.
– Help! Heeeelp! Tessia flinched at Aken’s voice in her mind, and the echo of his terror. She found herself staring at Jayan, who gazed back at her in horror.
– We took the track north-east, Sudin said quickly. Over the ridge and to the left...into...a... valley. Two... Sacha—
A faint thin cry filtered through the forest. It took Tessia a moment to realise her ears had heard it, not her mind. Something flashed before her mind’s eye. An impression. Of blood. A lot of blood.
“Left!” Werrin exclaimed. The scout was already running back long the column, his expression stiff with shame. Werrin urged his horse after the man. After a moment he stopped and called out. “Four with me,” he said. “The rest stay.”
That meant five magicians and their apprentices. Dismay mingled with relief as she saw Dakon move to the side of the track, indicating that she and Jayan should too. Narvelan, Hakkin, Prinan and Ardalen and their apprentices hurried after Werrin.
I want to help, she thought. But what if it’s a trap?
The sound of hoofbeats faded rapidly. For a long moment the rest remained still and silent. Then Dakon moved along the line and, finding that the servants were still on the steep track, brought them up onto the ridge to wait next to the remaining magicians.
The wait was not long, but it was slow and strained and full of dread. At every sound in the forest all jumped or searched the trees fearfully. Every exchanged glance was full of unspoken questions. Tessia realised she was no longer hungry. In fact, she felt a little queasy. She checked her shield again.
When the sound of approaching hoofbeats reached her Tessia held her breath. Dakon moved forward. Jayan urged his horse after, and Tessia nudged hers to follow. Heart racing, she gazed down the track.
Then Narvelan appeared and she let out a sigh of relief. But as she read his expression she felt her stomach sink. The young magician looked pale and grim. As Werrin came into sight she flinched at the fury in his face. Then Hakkin appeared. He hung his head, his expression tortured and bleak.
Narvelan looked up at those waiting.
“They’re dead,” he said.
None said a word for a long moment. The only sound was the movement of the horses returning to the group.
“Both of them?” a weak voice asked. Tessia turned as she realised Leoran had spoken.
“Yes,” Werrin replied.
“You buried them, then?” Bolvin asked.
Werrin and Narvelan exchanged glances. “Yes.”
Tessia felt a chill run down her spine. There had been more to it than that, she suspected. The glance between the two magicians hinted at something bad. Something they felt was better left unmentioned. She looked at the other magicians and their apprentices. Lord Ardalen looked ill. Lord Prinan’s eyes were haunted but there was determination in the set of his jaw. The apprentices... they were pale and their eyes were wide. They kept glancing back over their shoulders. Mikken met her gaze, then looked at the ground.
“This changes things,” Werrin said, addressing them all. “They have killed a Kyralian magician. Even by their standards, retaliation is justified. We must camp and discuss our next move, and notify the king of Lord Sudin’s death. And Apprentice Aken’s.” He shook his head.
“I must accept responsibility,” Lord Hakkin said. “I encouraged Sudin to contemplate the action he took today. I can see now that such risks are not worth taking. Should never be taken again. I...am sorry.” He bowed his head.
“We have been only guessing the extent of the danger we face until now, balancing caution with courage,” Narvelan said. “But now we know the truth, and it is a hard and bitter lesson for all of us. We know what we risk, both magician and apprentice.”
“I have been thinking about that,” Lord Bolvin said. “Since they share the risk, should we include the apprentices in our discussions? They may not have the experience to offer suggestions or insight, but they deserve to know what they are fighting against, and how.”
To Tessia’s surprise, all of the magicians nodded.
“Then let’s get away from this place and return to somewhere less exposed and more protected,” Ardalen said.
Without another word, the magicians led the group back down into the valley.
There were some truths you didn’t need to know, but had to know, Jayan believed. He didn’t need to know anything more than that Lord Sudin and Aken had been killed by the Sachakans. But something in him wanted to know the details. Wanted to know exactly how sadistic the Sachakans could be. Maybe there was a part of him that needed the details in order to prove that what he’d been told was true, and not something invented to encourage everyone in the group to co-operate, or to justify killing the invaders.
Or perhaps just because he couldn’t quite believe he was never going to talk to, or tease, Aken again. Or play Kyrima against him. The young man he’d barely got to know was never going to grow into a higher magician, with power and authority. Never take on his own apprentice.
So at the first opportunity, as they were making camp, he sidled up to Mikken and asked.
The young man looked at Jayan in disbelief, then annoyance, but then his gaze became thoughtful and he nodded in understanding.
“They were in pieces,” he said, then went on to describe what must have been the result of a planned, deliberate sequence of torture. Since then, whenever Jayan thought about what Mikken had told him he felt cold right down to his bones. He realised that, for most of his life, he’d imagined the Sachakan magicians as being not so different from Kyralians. They kept slaves instead of lording it over commoners. They maintained land and trade, as Kyralian lords did.
He’d reasoned that these invaders were merely bored young men with high ambitions – of which there were plenty in Kyralia, though none held ambitions as high as conquering another land. But now Jayan knew better. Now he knew they were savages. No ambitious young Kyralian magician would have killed with such deliberate, undeserved cruelty. Not unless he was dealing out revenge for a truly atrocious act. And even then... Jayan had to acknowledge that if anyone he’d known had shown he was capable of such savagery he would have regarded them with disgust and wariness from then on.
What the Sachakans had done to Sudin and Aken took planning. And practice. That’s what angered and frightened Jayan the most.
“Don’t tell Tessia,” Mikken said.
Though Jayan appreciated that Mikken had Tessia’s well-being in mind, he wasn’t going to keep anything from her just because the young man fancied her. Besides, Tessia had seen plenty of gruesome things as a healer’s assistant. As the set-up of camp finished and Tessia approached Jayan to ask what he had learned, he considered telling her everything. And immediately decided against it. She would wonder if such things had been done to the villagers of Mandryn, or her parents. She was also more trusting than he. It probably wouldn’t even occur to her to question whether she’d been told the full truth.
So he glossed over the details, only saying that Aken had been killed first, and that their bodies had been left in a state meant to shock and scare anyone who found them. Then the magicians called everyone to their meeting, rescuing Jayan from any further questions.
The decision to include apprentices in the meeting had surprised Jayan, and now he felt a twinge of excitement. The magicians sat in a wide circle and their apprentices settled beside them. The sound of the forest around them faded as Werrin raised a shield to prevent their words from bei
ng heard outside the group. Jayan glanced beyond, to where scouts and servants kept watch, holding the lanterns they were to signal with if anything suspicious was seen or heard.
Jayan glanced at Dakon, who smiled knowingly.
“Don’t say anything unless invited,” he murmured.
Nodding, Jayan suppressed a fleeting annoyance. Normally he had a chance to talk to Dakon before the magicians met. Dakon always asked if Jayan had anything to suggest or comment on. But there had been no time today.
Lord Werrin began by going over the events of the day, glossing over the gory details much as Jayan had for Tessia. Once again, Lord Hakkin admitted his part in encouraging Lord Sudin to risk venturing out on his own, and then all tried in vain to guess what the magician’s plan had been.
When the possible reasons and consequences had been fully covered, Werrin sighed and straightened.
“Sudin’s death changes much. A magician has been killed. This frees us to consider strategies that may result in Sachakan deaths. But we must consult the king first.”
“Surely he will not prevent us from killing them now,” Prinan said.
“I doubt it, but he will still expect some restraint,” Werrin replied. “Every Sachakan we kill has a family who may feel obliged to seek revenge or compensation, whether that death was justified or not. The more Sachakans we kill, the more Sachakan families will have the obligation to strike back in common. If they unite . . . this could become a war.”
“But we can’t sit back and let these invaders kill and loot for fear of war,” Lord Ardalen protested.
“If the choice is to be conquered again by these people, or face a war, I’d choose the war any time,” Lord Bolvin said firmly.
“But would we win?” Narvelan asked.
The magicians exchanged frowns. Jayan’s heart sank. They’re not sure. He shivered. Us against the might of the Sachakan empire. Does Kyralia have any hope of surviving the next few years?
“Would the Elynes help us?” Prinan asked.
Hakkin grimaced. “They would not want to make themselves a target.”
Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 00] - The Magician's Apprentice Page 29
