The Magician’s Apprentice

The listeners looked surprised. “I’d have said it was unlikely, but not impossible,” Ashaki Charaka said.

“I thought it a risk,” Asara agreed, “but I didn’t think they’d have time. An entire city of people giving power in a few hours? I have no idea how they managed it.”

“But they did,” Charaka said. He stared at Takado in an unfriendly way. Hanara frowned as the man said something else, but a buzzing in his ears drowned out the words.

“I told you something was wrong,” a female voice said behind him, faint and weak. He heard a thud and turned to see her lying on the floor. Moving his head sent it spinning sickeningly. He stilled and closed his eyes.

What is going on? But he knew even as he asked himself. In the master’s room, voices were raised. He opened his mouth and tried to voice a warning, but all that came out was a moan. We have been drugged. And Takado...he is not strong enough to fight his way out of here.

“. . . fight us or you can co-operate.”

“We have no time for that.” Takado’s voice was confident and full of warning. “The Kyralian army is here. The fools have—”

“If they are or not is no longer your concern.” The host. Commanding voice. More words, but they were distorted and lost behind more buzzing. Hanara felt the strength go from his limbs. He felt the wall slide across his chest, the floor stop his fall. Blurry shapes moved before his eyes.

Then rough fabric slipped over his head and all he saw was darkness.

CHAPTER 44

The sky had been brightening for the last hour, slowly turning an eerie red while the land was still a black flatness, interrupted here and there by the shapes of buildings and trees. The colour lit the edges of faces and was reflected in eyes, giving familiar figures a strangeness somewhat appropriate, Dakon thought, after the deeds of the night. People he thought he knew, whom he’d believed of gentler character, had shown a darker side. Or a weakness for copying what the majority did, though they did not agree with it.

The king had decided that Narvelan would lead every attack on the Sachakan estates, but that each time he should take a different group of magicians. An interesting decision, Dakon had thought. He’s forcing us all to take part in the slaughter, so the responsibility is spread among us. If we all feel guilty, none of us is going to start blaming others.

Dakon was wondering what would happen when it was his turn, and he refused to participate.

So far there had been no shortage of volunteers. Lord Prinan had joined the third group, confessing to Dakon beforehand that he feared if he did not strengthen himself he would be useless in the battles to come.

Will I be useless? Dakon wondered. If I only take power from Tessia I will be weaker, but not useless. Should that mean I am one of the first to fall in the next battle, then that is how it will be. I will not kill slaves for their power.

“You could leave them exhausted instead,” Tessia had suggested, no doubt realising what his refusal to participate might mean.

“And Narvelan will check afterwards and ensure they are dead,” he’d replied. “Don’t worry. It is only a matter of waiting. Once the king realises that we can’t possibly keep our presence in Sachaka a secret, he won’t care if we let the slaves live or not.”

The estates were a few hours’ ride from each other, so they had only attacked seven. In all the houses following the first one they had encountered magicians. Each had fought the attackers and been defeated. Nobody had mentioned if any family of these magicians had been present, and what their fate had been. Dakon doubted all the estates had been empty of their owner’s family and that any had been left alive.

The sound of multiple hoofbeats drew the army’s attention to the side road Narvelan’s latest group had ridden down. Sure enough, the band was coming back. It broke apart as it met the army, the magicians returning to their former positions in the line and Narvelan approaching the king yet again.

Instead of riding on, the king turned to Sabin and nodded. The sword master turned his horse and rode back along the line. As he passed he met Dakon’s eyes.

“The king asks the advisers to meet with him.”

Dakon nodded, then, as Sabin passed out of hearing, sighed.

“Good luck,” Jayan murmured.

“Thanks.” Dakon glanced at Tessia, who offered him a sympathetic smile; then he nudged his horse forward.

He stopped beside Lord Hakkin and watched as the other advisers made their way to the front of the line. The leader of the Elynes joined them. When Sabin returned with the last of them, all turned to face each other, a ring of horses and riders.

“We need a safe place to camp,” the king said. “But there does not appear to be anywhere nearby where a group our size could hide. Magician Sabin suggests we ride on.”

“In daylight, your majesty?” Hakkin asked. “Won’t we be seen?”

The king nodded.

“What we have done this night will eventually be discovered. Perhaps in a day or two, but we should assume we aren’t so lucky and that the news of our arrival began to travel after our first stop. We should keep moving. We may not be able to keep pace with news of ourselves, but for a while we may arrive too soon for our enemy to prepare to meet or avoid us.”

“But when will we sleep?” Perkin asked. “What of the horses?” Sabin smiled grimly. “When the news has outpaced us, we will find a defensible position and take turns resting. And we will take fresh horses wherever we find them. Each estate has had a stable, with between four and twenty horses. This one,” he nodded towards the distant white walls, “had over thirty. I will send servants back to collect them.”

“What will we do when the news has outpaced us? What will they do?” Bolvin asked.

“Advance as quickly as we are able. Give them as little time to unite and prepare as possible.”

“Would we be more successful at keeping pace with the news if we did not stop to attack the Sachakan homes along the way?” Dakon asked.

“We would,” Sabin said. “But we need to strengthen ourselves as well.”

“But we have the storestone,” Dakon pointed out.

Sabin glanced at Dem Ayend. “Which we should not use unless we absolutely have to. It would be a waste if we used it, but still failed because we had not gone to the effort of seeing to our own strength.”

At this the Dem’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

“And prevented the Sachakans from strengthening themselves,” Narvelan added. “It would be foolish to leave them any source of strength to use against us. We don’t want to be attacked from behind, or have our path of retreat blocked.”

Now it was Sabin’s turn to look amused. Dakon looked around at the other magicians, who were all nodding in agreement, and felt a chill run down his spine, to gather as a knot of cold somewhere in his belly. They’re going to keep killing slaves, he realised. All the way to Arvice. Because they’re too proud to use the Elynes’ storestone. Because they’re afraid. He could not speak for a moment, and when his shock passed the conversation had moved to other matters. Not that anything I say will make a difference. They want to give us the best chance of winning. The lives of a few thousand slaves aren’t going to seem so important next to that.

“Lord Dakon,” the king said. Dakon looked up, realising he hadn’t heard the last part of the discussion.

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Would you gather and lead a group to find food for the army?” He felt a belated relief. “Yes, I can do that.” Here was a task he could participate in without any challenge to his conscience.

“Good.” The king’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I would like to discuss this with you further. The rest of you may return to your positions.”

As the others rode away the king urged his horse closer to Dakon’s.

“I have noticed you have not joined any of the attacks on the estates,” the king said, his eyes sharp and level. “You do not agree with killing the slaves, do you?”

“No, your majesty.” Dakon held the king’s eyes, his heart beating a little faster with dread.