The Magician’s Apprentice

Not even a slave. Quickly now. Let’s finish him off.”

Dakon pressed his hand on Narvelan’s shoulder and gathered more power.

“Now!”

The strike halted the Sachakan, but did not overcome his shield. He attacked in return and Narvelan flinched under the strike. The enemy’s strike was bright, revealing the huddle of Kyralians in the building’s shadows.

“Keep sending power,” Narvelan said between clenched teeth. “Need it for defence too, remember.” Narvelan’s shield flared outward as it abruptly strengthened. He gave a little gasp of relief.

“He’s getting nervous,” Jayan said.

Sure enough, the last Sachakan was glancing from Narvelan’s group to Werrin’s. He started to back away from them both.

“Let’s give him one last blast,” Narvelan said. “Before he can get away from us.”

Dakon wondered how his friend could stand under the pressure of hands. He drew power. Narvelan spoke. Power flowed out. At the same time a strike came from Werrin’s direction. The Sachakan gave a crazed scream of anger as he staggered backwards.

Then he flew through the air in a spray of blood, twisting and then landing with a crunch. And was still.

Dakon’s ears rang with whoops of triumph. Magicians and apprentices pushed him out into the street in their eagerness to have a closer look at their fallen enemies. Narvelan was grinning as he strode forward to meet Werrin. The two grasped arms in formal greeting. Dakon did not hear what they said to each other. He was aware of figures further down the street darting out of houses and racing away.

Slaves. To his relief, nobody tried to strike them or prevent them leaving. He noticed Tessia peering down at the Sachakan leader’s body, her expression a mixture of fascination and revulsion. She looked up at Dakon as he moved to her side.

“Magic causes unique and terrible wounds,” she said.

He looked at the corpse. The man’s body had been crushed and distorted by the two forces hitting him from two different directions.

“He would have died instantly.” She looked back down the street. “Better than what he did to others. I may need my father’s bag.”

“Shall I signal to the servants?” Jayan asked, looking at Dakon.

Dakon felt the elation of victory drain way. For a moment he wondered how Tessia could be so cool and practical. She learned it from her father. He didn’t let emotion cloud his judgement. But he never needed his skill as much as Tessia has lately.

“Yes – but check with Lord Werrin first.”

Jayan nodded and hurried away. Tessia barely noticed, her attention on the small hall down the street. Dakon smiled crookedly. She would seek out the Sachakans’ victims alone if he didn’t go with her. He gestured for her to follow, and set out to find and free the survivors of Tecurren.

At dusk Dachido’s group arrived at Takado’s camp. The magician had been the first one Takado had suggested choose some allies and travel separately. Hanara believed that his master had done so because he trusted Dachido, whereas Dovaka had decided to do so himself. Takado had raised no protest. He seemed almost encouraging. Hanara knew better, and worried what the mad ichani might do on his own. But he was glad to be spending less time in the man’s company.

As the camp swelled, Hanara realised that Dachido’s group had grown. He looked around, counting, and found it was now three times the size it had been last time Takado and Dachido had met. The newcomers included a woman, he noticed. She approached with Dachido as Takado rose to greet his ally.

“I see you’ve gathered some new friends, Dachido,” Takado said, then turned to the woman and smiled. “Asara. It has been a long time since we last met.”

Her smile was faint. “Indeed. Too long. If I’d known about your plans I might have paid you a visit earlier.”

“To support me or try to talk me out of them?”

“Probably to try to talk sense into you. But that was when I thought Emperor Vochira a strong man.”

Takado’s eyebrows rose. “And you no longer do?”

“No.” Her dark eyes flashed. “He sent me here to deal with you.” They gazed at each other, both smiling knowingly. Then Takado chuckled. “Who was he trying to insult, me or you?”

“You doubt I could do it?”

His smile widened. “Of course not. But does he?”

She made a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I came here to join you, not drag you back to the Imperial Palace.”

“And your companions?”

“Agree with and follow me.”

He nodded. Hanara felt a prickling sensation run down his back. She’s just told him plainly that her people will only follow him if she does. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. He’ll probably have her group travel separately, too. That will mean of the four groups, he has two not truly in his control. Though Asara is probably smarter and more sensible than Dovaka. He sniffed quietly. That wouldn’t be difficult.

Dachido and Asara joined Takado at the campfire, and the rest of the magicians followed. They set the slaves to the chores of setting up camp and bringing out food and drink. As Hanara worked he caught snatches of conversation. First Asara asked about Takado’s progress – was it true he had destroyed a village? Why hadn’t he kept it? What was the advantage in splitting into smaller groups?

Then he heard her ask Takado what his next move would be. He smiled broadly, clearly pleased but also amused.

“I am not quite ready to decide.”

The next time Hanara returned to the fire they were discussing confusing and convoluted stories about crumbling and new alliances, mysterious favours and oblique references to unexplained murders.

“The emperor may never forgive me for this,” she said, shrugging. “But at least when I turned disloyal I didn’t try to kill him, as others have.”

“Surely you know that won’t stop him having you killed?”

“Of course. But I do suspect he sent me here hoping I’d fail. I figure, if he didn’t mind that, then he doesn’t mind me remaining here with you and helping you retake Kyralia.”

Takado looked thoughtful. He opened his mouth to reply, but a call from within the forest stalled him. All rose as the call came again, from closer. Then a slave staggered out of the trees and threw herself at Takado’s feet.

“Dead,” she gasped. “They’re all dead!”

“Who?” Takado snapped.

“Dovaka, Nagana, Ravora and Sageko. They... they took a village and the Kyralians came and killed them.”

Dachido muttered a curse. Takado glanced at him, then he looked down at the slave again. “They invaded a village.”

“Yes.”

“And stayed there. They didn’t leave?”

“Yes. No.”

“And the Kyralians took exception to this. How unfriendly of them.”

“They killed Dovaka,” The slave began to sob. “My master is dead.”

“Go.” Takado nudged her with his toe. “Get yourself some food and water and rest over by that tree. We will decide what to do with you later.”

As she obeyed he turned to Dachido and Asara. To Hanara’s surprise, he was smiling broadly.

“Now I am ready to make my decision. Tomorrow we will not travel separately. We will move southward together. We will destroy everything, strengthening ourselves as we go. But we will advance slowly so that others may still come through the pass and join us. We will take over Kyralia, piece by piece, magician by magician, until it is all ours.”

There was a pause as all the magicians stared at Takado in surprise. Then they gave a cheer and raised their cups in agreement. Asara glanced at Dachido, then shrugged and raised her cup. Dachido did the same, gazing at Takado in thoughtful admiration.