The Magician’s Apprentice

She nodded. “Training ground. Hour after midday,” she repeated.

He bowed, and she belatedly replied with the womanly dip that Avaria had taught her, hand modestly pressed to her chest. “Charming to meet you, Apprentice Tessia. I hope it will not be long before you visit Imardin again.”

“I’m honoured and pleased to meet you, your majesty,” she replied.

He smiled, then turned away. As he moved across the room a uniformed man strode forward to meet him.

“How did it go?” a familiar and breathless voice spoke at her elbow.

Tessia turned to look at Avaria. “Well. I think. Maybe. I have a message for Lord Dakon.”

The woman nodded and smiled. “Then we’d better deliver it – discreetly, if we can.”

CHAPTER 17

The Royal Palace was quiet, yet Dakon detected hints of activity all around. He caught the faint sounds of footsteps from time to time, or the hushed murmur of voices. Servants flitted into view and then out again.

The further his guide led him through the building, the more obvious the signs of activity became. He heard the sound of chopping and caught delicious aromas, and guessed he was near the kitchen. Then the neigh of a horse told him the stables were to his right. And finally the clang of metal against metal, and barked calls, warned him that he was nearing the training ground.

The guide brought Dakon out of a cobbled road between two buildings into a wide, gravel-covered area. Two men stood several paces from each other. Dakon recognised both instantly: Magician Sabin and King Errik. Around them, at a safe distance of several paces, stood a handful of men, watching the combatants.

Two were uniformed guards, whose role appeared to be to hold weapons. Two were servants, one carrying a bowl and towels, the other balancing a tray bearing a jug and several goblets. The other two men he recognised from the previous night as friends of the king, both from powerful families.

The guide indicated that Dakon should stand next to the latter, then left. Dakon exchanged polite nods with the men, but when they turned back to the king without speaking he took the hint and remained silent.

First the king, then Sabin, uttered a hoarse word which Dakon couldn’t make out, then began to advance on each other. Both were already sweaty, but neither was out of breath or tired. Watching them, Dakon thought back to the gathering the night before.

It has to have been, aside from a few failed attempts at courting, one of the most frustrating nights of my life, he mused. The king had ignored them, and once even appeared to go out of his way to avoid them. This had been taken by some of the Circle’s detractors as an indication that Dakon and his host were out of favour. They had closed in like scavengers, their mockery carefully phrased in the politest of language. Everran appeared to enjoy the challenge, replying with equal slyness and wit. Dakon, knowing this was a game he couldn’t possibly win, stayed silent, took note of who their opponents appeared to be, and tried to guess if they were in earnest or playing along for the sake of politics.

It was the ringleader, Lord Hakkin, who had intrigued Dakon the most. Though the man’s comments were by far the sharpest, he hadn’t delivered them with the conviction the others had. Yet at times he had almost sneered at his supporters’ jibes, repeating and embellishing them if they failed to be witty or cutting enough.

By the time Dakon and the others climbed into the wagon to return to Everran’s home, he had been exhausted, despondent and angry.

When Avaria had suggested to Tessia that it was now safe to deliver the king’s message, Dakon had barely heard. Poor Tessia had had to repeat it twice before he took it in.

The training ground. An hour past midday. King Errik did want to meet him. Just not with several hundred witnesses. And that is something Jayan must be glad of, he thought. The apprentice had been uncharacteristically silent and nervous throughout the gathering. Eventually – perhaps too slowly – Dakon had worked out why. Among the detractors had been a man Dakon hadn’t seen in years – Jayan’s father, Karvelan of family Drayn.

Jayan had said nothing about his visit to his father and Dakon had assumed that was simply because nothing of interest had been discussed. Now he could see the conflict the young man faced. He was caught between loyalty to his master and his powerful and wealthy family. Dakon knew how little Jayan thought of his family, and he was fairly sure he had his apprentice’s respect and even affection, but these things did not always matter in the face of money and politics.

I bet old Karvelan wishes I’d hurry up and release his son. Then Dakon frowned. I wonder if Jayan wishes I would. It would free him to choose where his loyalties lie. But then, perhaps he’d rather have an excuse not to make that choice just now.

A grunt of dismay brought his attention back to the fighters. Sabin and Errik were backing away from each other.

“You win, again,” the king conceded with cheerful annoyance. Sabin bowed. Chuckling, the king handed his sword to one of the guards, then filled the goblet with clear water from the jug and downed it in one go. Then he took a towel and walked towards Dakon, wiping his brow as he came.

“Lord Dakon of family Aylendin. What did you think?”

“Of the fight, your majesty?” Dakon found himself searching for the appropriate response. He knew nothing about swordplay. “It was energetic.”

“Would you like a bout?” Errik offered. “Me?” Dakon blinked in surprise. “I, ah, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a good combatant.”

“A bit rusty, eh?”

“No. I’ve, er, never picked up a sword in my life,” Dakon admitted. The king’s eyebrows rose. “Never? What would you do, in a real war, if your magic ever ran out?”

Dakon paused to consider it, then decided he’d rather not. “Cheat?”

Errik laughed. “That’s not very honourable!”

Dakon shrugged. “I’ve heard it said that real war isn’t particularly honourable.”

“No.” The king’s smile faded. He turned and waved at the others. All bowed, then walked away. The guards took away the weapons, followed by Sabin. The courtiers vanished through a doorway but the servants took up positions by another door, still holding their burdens, but out of earshot. Within moments Dakon was virtually alone with the king.

“So, Lord Dakon,” Errik said. “You want to know what I will do if the wayward, rebellious Sachakan magicians who are causing our neighbouring emperor so much irritation decide to begin their own little invasion of Kyralia.”

Dakon met the king’s eyes and nodded. Sabin had warned him that the king preferred to be direct. Errik smiled crookedly, then sobered.

“So does everyone else. I tell them exactly what I tell you now: an attack on or invasion of any ley is an attack on or invasion of Kyralia. It is not to be tolerated.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Dakon said. “I’m getting the impression, however, that others would not be.”

The king’s gaze flashed. “The trouble with Kyralians gathering together to support one cause is that other Kyralians then feel they must then gather together to oppose it. Not that I’m saying your Circle should not have formed.” He shrugged, though his expression remained serious. “Just that the consequences were unavoidable.”

“Would they still oppose each other if a greater enemy appeared?” Dakon asked.

“If they become too strongly opposed. There are plenty of examples of this happening in our history.”

“So you can’t appear to support either side, or they may not join forces when needed.” Dakon nodded as he saw the king’s dilemma.

The king’s gaze warmed with approval. “I am making sure I can defend my kingdom when and if the need arises.”

Dakon resisted a smile. “Are your plans too great a secret to be shared with a humble country magician?”

“Humble?” Errik rolled his eyes, then sighed and looked at Dakon levelly. “Not too secret. I will discuss some of them with you, and you must tell me if you see any flaws.”

“I will do my best, your majesty.”

“Good. Now, any Sachakans planning an attack will want to be sure they have the numbers to win. They don’t form alliances easily, however. Their numbers are likely to be small at first, so their target is likely to be too.