The Magician’s Apprentice

had an approving, almost smug, look on his face.

“And now it’s yours,” her mother said firmly. “Besides, it looks ridiculous on me now. It suits a younger face.” She took the box from Tessia and placed it in the trunk, then shut the lid.

Tessia opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She knew she would not win this argument. Perhaps another time, when her mother was in a different mood, she would persuade her to take back the necklace. It was ridiculous, this idea that she would need it to impress rich and influential people. Nobody in the village could be considered that way except one person: Lord Dakon.

Then an uncomfortable feeling came over her.

Surely Mother isn’t . . . she couldn’t be . . . there’s no way she would... the age difference is...

But she knew her mother all too well.

It’s too obvious to deny. She closed her eyes and cursed silently. Mother is hoping I’ll marry Lord Dakon.

CHAPTER 6

Well, don’t you look fancy.”

Jayan turned to find Malia standing in the doorway of his room. She looked down at his clothes and her eyebrows rose. “Is that the latest fashion in Imardin, then?”

He chuckled and smoothed his clothing. The robe was nearly long enough to touch the floor and all but covered the matching trousers he wore underneath. Both were dark green and the fine material they were made from had a slight shine to it.

“It’s what’s been worn there for the last twenty years,” he told Malia. “Hardly the latest fashion.”

“By both men and women?”

“No, just men.”

Her eyebrows managed to rise even higher. “I’d love to see what the women wear, then.”

“You wouldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing – and don’t ask me to describe it. I’d have to learn a whole new vocabulary first.”

Her brows finally came back to a normal level as she grinned. “If I hadn’t seen Lord Dakon wearing much the same thing, I’d have wondered about you, Apprentice Jayan. Don’t go walking out in the village like that or people will be talking about you from here to the mountains. As for your guests... they hid their surprise very well when they saw Lord Dakon.” She paused. “They’re all in the dining room, by the way.”

In other words, “You’re late’, he thought. “I was about to join them,” he said. “Until I was delayed by a nosy servant, that is.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then took the hint and strode away.

Looking down at himself, he adjusted the sash, tugged a few creases out of the robe, then followed her down the corridor. He eyed the doorway at the end. Earlier that morning the servants had opened up the unused room beyond, cleaned it and moved furniture in and out. Later in the day Jayan had heard voices through his own closed door. He hadn’t gone out to greet Tessia and her family. They had more immediate things to be concerned about than meeting Dakon’s apprentice. Dakon’s other apprentice.

The truth was, Jayan hadn’t wanted to go out and meet them. He was not sure why. I don’t dislike Tessia or her family personally. Nor do I particularly like them, or want to gain their favour. It was more important, he had decided, that he spend his time studying than being sociable. The sooner he became a magician the more time Tessia would have from Dakon, after all.

It wasn’t as if she was from some important and powerful family that he might want to establish and maintain friendly relations with. She wasn’t a land servant or crafter’s daughter, thankfully, but she wasn’t a woman of influence or connections either. Becoming a magician would elevate her, but it wouldn’t make her the equal of other magicians.

Which is why this is unfair on Dakon. He won’t be gaining any of the good connections or favours owed from training her as he did by taking on my training... except, perhaps, respect for what might be seen as an admirable act of charity. If not that, then sympathy for having to obey the law on naturals.

Would people be as sympathetic towards Tessia? With no influential or wealthy family behind her, she would hardly attract much favour among the powerful men and women of Kyralia. It was unlikely that the king or anyone else would give her any important position or task to perform. Without such a wage or work she’d never make much of an income. All this would not make her a desirable wife, so she wasn’t going to attract a husband of influence or wealth either.

She might, with hard work and time, gain a few allies and friends, and slowly prove herself worthy of work with a decent income. And someone might marry her hoping her offspring would prove magically strong.

But neither would ever happen if she stayed in isolated Mandryn.

Another option came to Jayan’s mind, then. There were cases in history of apprentices who did not become higher magicians. She could choose to remain in service to Dakon, giving him magical strength, and in return he would give her a place to live and possibly a small sum to live on after he died.

Jayan felt an unexpected sympathy for her then. She probably had no idea where her natural powers were going to lead her. She could become trapped in a social limbo, caught between the advantages of magic and its inescapable limitations.

At the bottom of the stairs it was a short walk down a corridor to the dining room. Entering, Jayan was amused at the relief he felt on seeing Lord Dakon wearing the same style of dress as he. Dakon’s robe was black with fine stitchwork. The magician was standing with his guests. He looked up and acknowledged Jayan with a nod as he finished what he was saying to Veran’s family.

Healer Veran wore a simple tunic and trousers typical of the local men, but made of a finer cloth. His wife – what is her name? – wore a plain dark blue tunic dress that did nothing to make her look womanly. Tessia’s dress was almost as ugly, its severity tempered only because it was a more appealing dark red. The young woman’s necklace, though simple, also relieved some of the unflattering impact of her garb.

Dakon now gestured to Jayan. “This is my apprentice, Jayan of Drayn. Jayan, you know Healer Veran. This is his wife, Lasia. And this is Tessia, your new fellow apprentice.”

Jayan made a short, polite bow. “Welcome, Apprentice Tessia,” he said. “Healer Veran, Lasia. A pleasure to have your company tonight.”

Dakon smiled approvingly then directed the guests to their seats. Lasia and Tessia started in surprise as a gong positioned on a side table rang.

Soon the room filled with servants carrying plates and bowls, jugs and glasses. A generous spread of food covered the table. Dakon picked up a pair of carving knives and began to slice the meat for his guests.

The kitchen servants had done a fine job, Jayan noted. As Dakon sliced through a glistening roll of roasted, golden skin he revealed many-layered circles of different meats and vegetables. Once he had finished he urged his guests to help themselves, then turned to a larger haunch of enka. Ribbons of dark marin fruit syrup oozed from within the rare meat. Next, he expertly chopped up cakes made of different root vegetables, layered to form decorative patterns when cut, and quartered juicy yellow and green cabbas stuffed with a frothy herbed mix of bread and eggs.

This is such a strange tradition, Jayan mused. I wonder if it was introduced by the Sachakans, or harks back to an earlier age in Kyralia. It’s supposed to be a demonstration of humility from the host, but I suspect it’s really meant to show off his prowess with knives.

Dakon certainly gave the impression of being well practised, which was surprising considering how rarely he gave formal dinners. Watching his master closely, Jayan decided the man actually enjoyed the task. He wondered if this love of chopping things up would surface should Dakon ever find himself in a fight.

At last Dakon had finished. Conversation as they ate was sporadic and concerned the quality of local and imported produce, the weather and other general topics. Jayan glanced at Tessia now and then. She was not pretty, he decided, but neither was she ugly. Young women in the ley were likely to be either slim and hard-muscled from work, or buxom and generous like some of the Residence’s house servants or crafters’ wives. Tessia was neither skinny or curvaceous, as far as he could tell.