lights. As she followed the others into the room more people came into sight, while others were obscured.
Even as she thought this, the view changed again and a well-dressed man of Jayan’s age, surrounded by a half-circle of men, appeared. Her companions stopped and she realised they were all looking at the group.
“That is King Errik,” Jayan murmured, leaning close.
She nodded. As she watched, the young man looked up in their direction, his eyes skimming across their faces, then turned his attention back to the men beside him.
“Well, he’s seen us,” Everran said, then turned to Dakon. “If he wants to talk to us he’ll summon us. In the meantime, you and I should talk to Lord Olleran.”
Dakon nodded. As he and Everran began to move away, Jayan following, Avaria hooked her arm in Tessia’s.
“Let them talk politics and trade on their own,” she whispered into Tessia’s ear. “I’ve just spotted Kendaria. Come on. This way.”
Tessia swallowed her frustration and disappointment. While she was eager to talk to Kendaria again, once again she would be excluded from whatever business Dakon was undertaking. Surely it was part of what being a magician entailed, and therefore something she needed to know, no matter how boring. Besides, what Avaria found boring Tessia might find interesting. Or vice versa.
Kendaria was watching a male acrobat performing graceful and impressive contortions. The young man was wearing loose trousers gathered tightly round ankles and waist, but his chest was bare and rippled with muscles. His performance was drawing a lot of female attention, Tessia noticed. Kendaria winked at her.
“Wouldn’t mind dissecting that body,” she murmured. “I wonder if his joints would be any different from the usual cadaver’s? They’re so flexible.”
“Kendaria!” Avaria scolded. “Don’t be so grotesque!”
But Tessia couldn’t help looking at the acrobat in a different way, seeing the ribs pressing against the man’s skin and remembering what the inside of a chest cavity looked like – where the heart was positioned, and the spongy masses of the lungs. She had learned so much, and was hoping Kendaria would take her to more dissections before Dakon left Imardin.
But Avaria was determined to head off any further anatomical conversation and soon the gossiping began in earnest as they were joined by Darya and Zakia. Time passed slowly. While Tessia listened politely, she watched the huge room filling with people and noted how the sound of voices grew exponentially as people needed to speak louder to be heard above the din. The acrobat left and a woman nearby began to sing, accompanied by a man plucking the strings of a strange box-like instrument he rested on one knee. Avaria’s friends began a detailed assessment of other women’s clothing, jewellery and romantic entanglements. Tessia found herself listening to the conversation of some men standing nearby.
“– healer told him to stop, but he keeps on drinking and it’s only going to make him –”
“– Sarrin said we should raise our prices, but I’m afraid it will –”
“– Mandryn, I think, but –”
The name of her village caught her attention, but the following comment was lost behind her companions’ laughter. She edged to the right, closer to the speaker and his listeners.
“. . . sorry for... leys on the border. Wouldn’t want to be living there myself.”
The reply was inaudible. “Oh, of course. Someone has to. Otherwise those bloodthirsty Sachakans would be even closer to us, wouldn’t they? Still, maybe they will be soon if what we’ve been hearing proves—”
Suddenly the man’s voice quietened so that she could not hear it. Then Tessia noticed that the crowd around them was stirring. Heads had turned in one direction. Searching for the source of the distraction, she peered round Avaria’s shoulder.
The king was walking towards them. He paused to speak to someone, then smiled and moved on, his gaze on Avaria and the other women.
Tessia leaned close to her hostess’s ear. “Lady Avaria,” she murmured. “Look to your left.”
The woman glanced idly in that direction, then turned back to Tessia. “The king?”
“Yes. He’s coming this way.”
“He was bound to eventually,” Avaria said, shrugging. “What with an attractive young new apprentice waiting to meet him.”
Tessia’s heart lurched. “I’m not . . .” she began, then stopped. The king was close enough now to hear her.
He moved into the circle of women, smiling and speaking their names. For each he had a question, often an enquiry as to the health or trade of a relative. When he reached Tessia his smile widened and he moved across the circle to stand before her.
“And you must be Apprentice Tessia, Lord Dakon’s new student.”
“Yes, your majesty,” she replied, conscious that the other women had turned away and were moving off in pairs and trios. Even Avaria. Had the king made some signal that he wanted to talk to her privately?
He watched her with alert eyes.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“It must seem a little frightening, perhaps bad luck, to discover your gift at the time and place you did.”
Tessia frowned. Was he referring to her desire to become a healer? Surely he hadn’t heard about Takado . . . no, Dakon wouldn’t tell him that.
“No,” she said slowly. “Well, it was frightening at the time. I didn’t know what I’d done. But later it was . . . exciting, I have to admit.”
He paused, a line appearing between his brows then disappearing as he smiled again. “You are referring to using your power for the first time, not to living close to the border?”
“Yes... but I suppose living close to the border has always been a little... worrying. Unless . . .” Her heart skipped. “Is there a special reason we should be concerned just now, your majesty?”
He blinked, then an expression of realisation crossed his face. “Ah. I must apologise. I did not mean to suggest such a thing. To those of us who live in the city the idea of living on the border with Sachaka always seems frightening, but you must be used to it.”
His tone was soothing and she suddenly knew, with certainty, that he was hiding something.
“Is Sachaka likely to invade?” she asked bluntly, and immediately regretted it. He looked utterly taken aback. She began to apologise.
“Don’t,” he said, cutting her off. “It is I who should apologise to you. I should have been more careful not to alarm you.” He moved to her side and took her arm, leading her slowly across the room. “There have been rumours,” he told her quietly. “Of a possible threat. No doubt you will hear of them whether I tell you or not – it is hardly a secret here. But do not fear. No great armies await over the border. The concern is that a few disgruntled Sachakan magicians might decide to make trouble for the emperor.”
“Oh,” she said, turning to stare at him. Even a few Sachakan magicians could do great damage in a village like Mandryn – especially with Dakon absent. “Is my village safe? My family?”
He met her gaze, his own glance wary and searching. Then his expression softened into a smile.
“It is safe. I assure you.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing her heart to stop racing.
“That is a relief, your majesty,” she said.
He chuckled. “Yes. It is. I’m sorry to have alarmed you with all this rumour-mongering. I’m afraid those of us who spend too much time in the city tend to gossip far too much without thought for the consequences, and that even I am guilty of the habit from time to time.”
She smiled at his admission. “Lady Avaria did warn me not to take city gossip too seriously – but gossip and rumour may be quite different things.”
He laughed, then turned to face her. “Indeed they are. Now, I have a message for you to pass on to Lord Dakon.” His expression became serious. “Tell him to meet me tomorrow at the training ground, an hour after midday.”
