It was a tiny room filled with a metal-framed three-tier bunk bed. Yaden, a boy of about twelve, was curled up on the bottom mattress, moaning loudly.
Tessia watched her father inspect Yaden, prodding his abdomen gently, timing the rhythm of his heart and breathing and asking questions. The two children who had greeted them at the door appeared, with two older boys in tow. One of the newcomers was leading the other by a rope around his neck.
“What’s this?” Possa said, her voice strained. “What are you doing with that rope?”
“We’re playing master and slave,” one of the boys said.
Tessia and the mother exchanged a look of dismay.
“Take it off,” Possa ordered. “We’re not Sachakans. We don’t enslave people. It’s wrong.”
To Tessia’s amusement, both boys looked disappointed as they removed the rope.
“What about the slave Lord Dakon has?” the one who’d worn the rope asked.
“He’s not a slave any more,” Tessia told him gently. “He’s free now.”
“But he still acts weird,” the other boy said.
“That’s because he’s not used to being free. And he doesn’t know our ways yet. But he’ll learn them. He’s actually nice, when you get to know him.”
The children looked thoughtful. Hearing a sniff, Tessia turned to see a doubtful look on Possa’s face. The woman quickly looked away. Veran made a low noise of concern. He straightened, knocking his head on the middle bunk.
“There’s not enough room for me to work here. Can we move him somewhere with more space?”
“The kitchen?” the metal worker suggested, looking at his wife. She shook her head.
“Too dirty. The cellar’s got more room.”
Her husband entered the bedroom, lifted his son and carried him down the stairs, the small crowd of family following. Tessia and Veran trailed behind them down to the lower floor and along the corridor towards the back of the house.
Glancing through an open door, Tessia glimpsed a kitchen table overflowing with utensils, vessels and baskets filled with the familiar shapes of edible fungi. She nodded to herself, approving of Possa’s reluctance to take Yaden to a place covered in dirt and manure. Perhaps her father’s and grandfather’s efforts to instil a respect for hygiene in the villagers hadn’t been as futile as they had often suspected.
More likely she doesn’t want to disturb her work when there’s an alternative place to take her son.
The long column of bodies descended another staircase. They reached a cold room smelling of damp and mould, with a time-darkened old wooden table covered in grime in the middle, and Tessia felt her heart sink. This was barely healthier than the dirty kitchen table.
“Get the lamp,” the metal worker ordered, but to which child Tessia couldn’t guess in the dimness. She felt someone smaller than her trip over her shoe and heard an exclamation of pain. Backing away, she heard a protest as she stepped on someone else’s foot.
Argh! We need light now! she thought, exasperated. Well, I can fix that...
She concentrated and abruptly the room filled with brilliance. All sounds ceased. Guessing the family and her father were all as dazzled as she was, Tessia reduced the ball of light floating up near the ceiling to a softer glow.
Looking around, she realised the metal worker and family were all staring at her. Even her father appeared astonished. She felt her face warming. Then Yaden groaned with pain and all eyes returned to him. Tessia sighed with relief. The boy was placed on the table. Tessia’s father handed her his bag then moved to Yaden’s side. She removed the burner and began to set it up on an old stool. The metal worker’s wife eyed Tessia warily, then gathered all the children and drew them from the room.
Almost as though she was removing them from danger rather than out of the way.
The next few hours were a mix of familiar methods and routines, and the less familiar demands of surgery. Once, her father glanced up at the globe of light and asked Tessia to bring it closer to the table. She felt heartened by his acceptance of her use of magic. The metal worker made a strangled noise as Veran made the first cut, then hurried out of the cellar.
Finally they were done. Tessia replaced the last of the tools, seared clean, in her father’s bag. Yaden was now unconscious, but the rhythm of his breathing and blood was steady and strong. Her father gave the child one last thoughtful look, then turned to Tessia.
He smiled, then glanced meaningfully at the globe of light.
“Handy trick, that one. It’s good to see you’ve been paying attention to your lessons.”
She shrugged. “It’s like learning the right way to use bandages. Once you know how, you don’t think too much about it. I’m sure there’s much harder magic to learn.”
Something shifted in his gaze, removing the humour from his smile for a moment.
“It might...I suspect it would be unsettling for the villagers if you kept surprising them like that, though.”
She nodded. “Yes. I think I might have scared them. Now I’ve seen how they react...I don’t think I’ll be drawing attention to myself like that again.”
“Not unless it’s necessary.” He shrugged. “I’m sure they’d understand if you had to defend the village or save a life. You better let the family know we’re finished.”
She handed him his bag, then moved to the doorway. A lamp was sitting on the floor in the corridor. Picking it up, she moved it to the floor beside the boy then extinguished her light, leaving the room lit only by the comforting glow of the lamp.
“There were strangers.”
Tessia and her father stopped and looked at each other. Then she picked up the lamp and held it to one side of Yaden’s head. His eyes were open. They moved to Veran.
“Strangers in the hills,” the boy whispered. “Hunters’ boys told us. Father said not to bother Lord Dakon, but it might be important. Will you tell him?”
Tessia’s father glanced at her, then looked at Yaden and nodded.
“Of course. He probably knows already.”
The boy grimaced. “Hurts.”
“I know. I’m about to give your mother something for you that will keep the pain away. Be patient. She’ll bring it to you soon.” He patted the boy’s shoulder gently, nodded at Tessia and followed her to the doorway.
“Could be he’s a bit delirious. Still, if his father knows something we’ll know it’s nothing to do with the illness. If he does, would you...?”
She nodded. “I’ll mention it to Lord Dakon.”
He smiled, then turned back to the boy. As Tessia started along the corridor the metal worker’s wife peered out of the entrance to the kitchen.
“Is he...?”
“He’s fine,” Tessia told her. “Could you bring some more clean water?”
As the servants removed the empty plates, Lord Dakon opened the second bottle of wine and refilled Tessia’s and Jayan’s glasses. The apprentices looked surprised, and raised their glasses in a salute of thanks. Both had been unusually quiet this evening. Usually one or the other conversed with him during the meal, Tessia with more ease as the weeks passed, even though they rarely spoke to each other.
The division between them dismayed Dakon. It had started with Jayan. The young man was no extrovert, but he was sociable and cheerful enough to get along with most people. Yet he had clearly disliked Tessia from the moment she arrived.
It had taken Tessia a week or two to realise it. Jayan was not the type to be petty or cruel. His impatient and disdainful manner did eventually give him away, however, and since then she had been quietly defiant, ignoring him when she could and occasionally retaliating with a delightfully biting remark when provoked.
Dakon was almost enjoying watching the pair. Almost.
Tonight there appeared to be something on Tessia’s mind.
Jayan, on the other hand, appeared to be unusually interested in Tessia, looking thoughtfully at her from time to time. It was a good thing Tessia was so distracte
d, as Dakon was sure this behaviour from his older apprentice would have made her irritable and suspicious.
“I have an announcement to make,” he told them, then smiled as they straightened and looked at him with expectant curiosity.
“In a week we will be travelling to Imardin.”
Tessia’s eyes opened wide. Jayan, in contrast, relaxed back in his chair, smiling with obvious pleasure.
“Imardin?” Tessia repeated.
“Yes. I travel there every year,” Dakon explained, “to deal with matters of trade, buy what we can’t get here in Mandryn and visit friends.”
She nodded. That much wouldn’t be a surprise to her, he knew. Like all the villagers she must have noted his yearly absences, and that he usually brought back cures and ingredients for her father. Her surprise was at the news that she would be travelling with him, and her next question confirmed it.
“We’re both going with you?” she asked, glancing at Jayan, who frowned at the question.
“Of course. Jayan usually visits his family. The king requires all magicians to notify him of their intention to take on an apprentice. Though you are a natural and nobody can stop you learning magic, not even the king, I should at least give him the opportunity to meet you.”
She glanced at Jayan again. “I hope this is a silly question, but what would happen if the village was attacked while you and Jayan were gone?”
It was not the question Dakon had expected, but if she was worried about the safety of her family it would naturally be a more pressing concern than the prospect of meeting the king.
Jayan’s frown had disappeared, Dakon noted. He looked as though he was carefully keeping his face expressionless.
“Lord Narvelan would deal with it,” Dakon assured her, “just as I deal with any trouble in his ley whenever he is absent.”
She nodded, but there was still a crease between her eyebrows. Her fingers drummed softly on the table, and then she drew in a deep breath and looked up at him again.
“When we were treating the metal worker’s boy today, he told us that hunters’ children said they’d seen strangers in the mountains – and that you should know.” She spread her hands. “It might be nonsense. The metal worker dismissed it as stories made up by the children to scare each other.”
Dakon kept his expression neutral as he considered her words. It was possible this was just a piece of gossip, or a scary story as she’d suggested. Or the strangers might simply be Kyralian travellers, or even lawless bandits. It might only be Narvelan’s fears of invasion that made the news sound sinister.
Or Hanara’s belief that Takado would return for him. Dakon had read the man’s mind this morning, deciding it would be foolish to leave the village without at least making sure the exslave wasn’t planning some mischief. Fortunately the slave had submitted to the mind-read willingly. Dakon was not sure what he would have done if he hadn’t. It had heartened him to find he was right: Hanara had no terrible plans for Mandryn. In fact, Hanara’s fear that his master would return indicated how badly he wanted to stay in Kyralia, and how unlikely he was to run back to his master. Dakon could not find any evidence in the ex-slave’s memories that the Sachakan magician had spoken or indicated an intention to return.
Still, these rumours make me glad Narvelan is as diligent as he is. I should have it investigated. And have any news sent to him.
“I’ll send someone to the hunters to see if there’s anything to it,” he told Tessia.
She nodded and looked away. For a moment he waited to see if she recalled what he’d said about the king, but she remained silent, having either not heard it or forgotten it.
“Any other questions?” he prompted.
Tessia frowned. “How long will we be gone for?”
“At least a month. It takes a week to get to the city at this time of the year, when the roads are still wet.”
Her frown deepened. Knowing how she still worried about her father managing without her, he smiled. By all accounts, the healer’s new assistant was learning fast. He decided to change the subject.
“You’ve never travelled before, have you?”
She shook her head.,
“It will be a novel experience for you, then. I’ll continue your lessons during the journey. It’ll keep us entertained as well as add to your education. I’m afraid Jayan and I have made the journey so often enough that we’ll probably only notice the rain and the cold.
“We’ll stay with two other country lords as we pass through their leys. Otherwise we’ll stop overnight in whatever town we manage to reach, with the town master. In Imardin we’ll stay with a friend of mine, Lord Everran, and his wife Lady Avaria. He inherited one of the city’s great Houses – a rather large half-empty building. They’re both magicians – you may find it interesting to talk to another female magician, though Lady Avaria will probably be more interested in taking you round the shops in the city, and visiting her friends, each of whom will encourage you to spend all the allowance I give you, and more.”
Tessia’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to—”
“Oh, believe me, I do,” he told her, “or I will never hear the end of it from Avaria. Besides, I could hardly give Jayan a little spending money without doing you the same favour.” He turned to look at Jayan. The young man shrugged.
“Anything you wish to ask?”
Jayan shook his head, then hesitated. “Is there any more wine?”
Dakon laughed and reached for the bottle. “I’m sure we’ll get one half-glass each from what’s left. Then perhaps we can share a few of our travel stories.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Jayan asked, glancing at Tessia. “We don’t want to make her wish she wasn’t coming.”
Dakon waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing has ever happened that was truly dangerous or unpleasant.”
“No?” Jayan asked, his expression clearly showing his disagreement.
“Nothing that didn’t make for a good story afterwards, that is.”
As Tessia’s eyebrows rose, Dakon grinned. “Well, there was that time I was helping Jayan practise making fireballs...”
CHAPTER 10
Tessia slipped through the main door of Lord Dakon’s house into the well-lit greeting hall. Lately the magician had insisted she use the front entrance, pointing out that he and Jayan used it, and the villagers would think he was neglecting to grant her the full benefits of her new status if she kept using the servants’ door.
Everything was much fancier in this part of the house. A staircase wide enough for two or three people to ascend together, with gracefully carved railings, led up to the next floor. Broad openings on either side beckoned visitors into side corridors, from which they could access the dining room and a formal seating room.
As Tessia closed the door a head appeared from within one of the corridors. Keron smiled and nodded politely, and his head withdrew again. Tessia crossed to the stairs.
At the top of the staircase she paused. Dakon had suggested she have her last dinner before leaving Mandryn with her parents. Veran and Lasia had expressed their excitement over her coming journey in their individual ways, her mother exclaiming with delight and her father quietly giving advice on how to behave in the city. It had been nice, but exhausting. She was tempted to slip up to her room and bed.
Light spilled out of the library doorway and voices drifted to her ears. Tessia found herself moving towards the door instead of heading to her room. She doubted she would fall asleep despite her weariness. More likely she would lie awake, as she had the last two nights, thinking about the journey ahead, and what might happen in the city. Dakon might have last-moment instructions, too.
When she stepped into the doorway, Dakon and Jayan looked up. Both held books, she saw, but from the chatter she’d heard she guessed they had stopped to talk. The magician smiled, but a frown, quickly smoothed away, creased the apprentice’s brow.
“Ah, Tessia,” Dakon said. “How was your evening with
your parents?”
“Good, Lord Dakon. They had a lot of advice.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure how useful it will be, even if it was given with the best of intentions.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure it was. Your mother hasn’t visited Imardin, has she?”
“No. Father has, but not for over ten years. That seems to bother him now. I fear you have put ideas into his head.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I should have invited him to join us. I expect it’s too late for that now.”
She caught her breath. It would have been wonderful to travel to Imardin with her father. He would have enjoyed it, she was sure. But it was likely he would have turned down the opportunity, not wanting to leave the village without a healer.
A short silence followed. She searched for something to say.
“Is there anything else to be done before we leave in the morning?”
Dakon shook his head, but his expression as he regarded her was thoughtful. “There is one matter.” He paused. “Now that you have gained control of your power, it is time we began the ritual of higher magic.”
Tessia blinked, then felt a thrill of both excitement and dread.
“Tonight?” She felt her heartbeat quicken. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“Well then.” She moved into the room. “How does it... work?”
“Perhaps it would be easier to show her,” Jayan suggested. Tessia started in surprise. She had almost forgotten he was there.
Dakon turned to regard the apprentice. The pair exchanged unreadable looks, then Dakon slowly nodded. “Perhaps it would.”
He rose from his seat and stepped into the space between the chairs. Jayan put his book aside, yawned and got to his feet. He smiled faintly, then an expression Tessia had never seen before smoothed his face and he looked older and more dignified.
Moving towards Dakon, he stopped in front of the magician, his gaze fixed on the floor. Then he knelt and lifted his hands, palms upward, to the level of his head.
A shiver ran down Tessia’s spine. Jayan was no longer just a young, disdainful man but a submissive, obedient apprentice. Dakon was no longer the benevolent lord of ley and village, but the master magician. This is the world of magicians that ordinary people do not see, she thought. A world they had kept private until now. A world she was a part of. The idea seemed unreal. Unbelievable. But perhaps after she took part in the ritual she would feel more like someone who belonged in their world.
The Magician’s Apprentice Page 11
