The Magician’s Apprentice

Unfortunately we have plenty of small targets – the villages in border leys protected by one or two magicians, too far apart to be of any use to each other.

“Evacuation is the only option in these leys,” he continued. “Once a ley falls it must be regained immediately. The Sachakans will be relying on news of their success to bring them more allies. We must counter this with news of their failure, as quickly as possible.”

Dakon nodded, pleased at the king’s assessment. “How would I do this?” Errik asked. “Speed will be important, so those magicians closest to the invaded ley will be ordered to respond. But at the same time I will send city magicians out, in case the first response is not sufficient.”

Errik stopped and looked at Dakon, eyebrows raised. “Questions?”

“You would not post magicians out at the borders now?” Dakon asked. “To deter the Sachakans from attacking to begin with and prevent the outer leys being taken at all?”

“Magicians,” the king said, his voice heavy with irony, “do not like being told what to do. If you can persuade some of your city supporters to return with you, by all means do so. But don’t be surprised if they are too concerned with keeping an eye on their adversaries here to leave. It would cause me more trouble later if I order any to go, no attack comes to justify it, and they suffer some setback.”

Dakon could not help frowning. The king nodded. “Petty, I know. Rest assured, once an attack comes no magician will dare protest against defending their country. However,” his eyes narrowed, “your new apprentice managed to extract a promise from me last night that I feel I must keep.”

“Tessia?” Dakon frowned in dismay. “She demanded a promise?” Errik chuckled. “No. I’m afraid it was my fault. I thought to test her and instead made a fool of myself.”

Dakon’s alarm grew. What did she say? He tried to read Errik’s expression. Well, the king doesn’t look too annoyed. Perhaps annoyed at himself, he corrected.

“I spoke of the threat, which she clearly knew nothing of,” Errik explained. “And ended up promising her that her village was safe.”

“Oh. I apologise for that,” Dakon said. “I have tried to keep her from learning of the Sachakan threat, so that worry would not spoil her first visit to Imardin.”

Errik smiled crookedly. “That was considerate of you. I’m afraid I now feel obliged to keep my promise, so I am sending one of my most loyal magician friends home with you.” He turned and waved at the building the courtiers had disappeared into. One of the men stepped out and started walking towards them.

“This is Lord Werrin. He will live with you for now, officially there to assess Kyralia’s defences but also conveniently rumoured to be keeping the country magicians in their place. It will meet everyone’s requirements of me, I hope.”

The man was short but lean, his hair flecked with grey, but his face as smooth as the king’s so it was impossible to judge his age. He returned Dakon’s gaze steadily as he stopped beside Errik, his eyes dark and intelligent but his face devoid of expression.

“I look forward to being your host, Lord Werrin,” Dakon said. The man smiled. “And I shall enjoy exploring the country leys in spring, Lord Dakon.”

Dakon felt a moment of panic and worry. Did the king think he needed to keep an eye on Dakon and his neighbours? He pushed the feeling aside. He had nothing to hide. And having an extra magician in Mandryn would go a long way towards helping protect the village and ley, should it be attacked.

Then he felt sympathy for Werrin. The man would have little to do but travel the rounds of border leys, over rough roads, with none of the comforts and entertainments of the city. I must find out his taste in books, and stock up, Dakon thought. And see what sort of—

– WE HAVE BEEN ATTACKED! MANDRYN HAS BEEN ATTACKED!

For a moment, Dakon, Werrin and the king blinked at each other in surprise. Then Werrin placed a hand on the king’s shoulder as if to steady him and did not remove it. It was a notably personal gesture, indicating how close they were.

“That was Lord Narvelan,” Werrin said. He looked at Dakon. “Am I correct?”

Dakon nodded. His stomach had sunk at the voice and its news. Mandryn. His home. Attacked. His head spun as the truth sank in.

– Attacked by whom? the king asked. – Sachakans, Narvelan replied. One of the villagers recognised the magician who passed through here a while back.

“Takado,” Dakon hissed, horror turning to anger. – How many survivors? he asked. – Not many. We are still count— – Cease communication, the king ordered firmly. He looked at Dakon. “There are good reasons why speaking with the mind is forbidden by law. Do you want more Sachakans knowing how successful your former guest’s attack was?”

Dakon shook his head. Errik glanced at Lord Werrin, who let his hand fall from the king’s shoulder. “I doubt Narvelan intended to give away that he is there now, most likely alone and vulnerable.” He grimaced and looked at Dakon. “I expect you want to return as quickly as possible – will probably leave tonight?”

Dakon nodded. “Lord Werrin will go with you. He’ll join you at Lord Everran’s home in an hour.” Errik looked at his friend, who nodded, then turned back to Dakon. “I will gather more magicians to follow as soon after as I can arrange. Go – and be careful. And... please convey my apology to Apprentice Tessia and my hope that her family is among those who survived.”

There was genuine concern in the young ruler’s face and voice. Dakon bowed.

“I will. Thank you, your majesty,” he said.

Then he hurried away, unable to stop the images of death and destruction his imagination was conjuring up. How many had died? Who? He would not find out until he returned home. And home was at least three or four days’ ride away, if he changed horses and rode through the night, and the road hadn’t worsened . . .

Then he remembered Narvelan’s last communication. The king had said Narvelan was in Mandryn. We are still count—. The last word had been “counting’, surely. Counting the dead. Dakon shuddered.

But it also meant Takado – if the villager who recognised the attacker was correct – had left after his attack. That was unexpected.

The Circle had always assumed Sachakans wouldn’t attack unless they intended to possess a village or ley.

It was strange, and he would have plenty of time to ponder it on the ride home, but he would not find any answers until he got there.

“What is it, Tessia?”

Tessia started and looked at the faces of the women, all staring at her. She hesitated, worried that if she told them what had happened they would think her mad.

But the content of the message she’d heard was too shocking. She had to say something.

“I...I just heard someone talking,” she said. “In my head.” Kendaria’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not good. Mental communication is forbidden by law. Magicians can only do it if the king approves or orders it. Did you recognise who it was?”

“It was . . .” Tessia frowned. “He didn’t say, but it sounded like Lord Narvelan. And Lord Dakon replied. And another man... the king? It sounded like his voice.” She shook her head. “Narvelan said Mandryn had been attacked by Takado – the Sachakan who visited us a few months ago.” She looked at the women. They exchanged horrified looks. They clearly believed her. “Are you saying this is real?”

“Yes.” Kendaria looked at Avaria. “Is this the beginning?”

Avaria shrugged. “I wouldn’t dare guess.” She was frowning at Tessia in concern. “Lord Dakon wouldn’t have taught you about mind-speaking, I’m guessing, because it’s not something you’re supposed to do. But if Lord Narvelan used it, the need must have been urgent. We had better go home.”

The others murmured sympathetic farewells and Kendaria, their hostess today, offered the use of her wagon so they would not have to send for Avaria’s. Feeling dazed, Tessia followed Avaria out of the house and into the vehicle.

“So Mandryn has been attacked?” she asked as the wagon began moving.

Avaria looked grave. “Yes.”

How many survivors? Dakon had asked. Not many,