“Should we hire this healer?” he asked. Despite the Sachakans’ efforts to kill everyone they encountered, some people were managing to escape the towns they attacked. Many of these escapees had injuries and Tessia had spent every spare moment treating them.
“No. Even if he wasn’t too old for it, he’ll charge you so much he’ll be the only rich man left by the end of the war, no matter who wins.”
“We could order him,” Dakon told her.
A gleam entered her eyes, then faded and she shook her head. But then she betrayed her doubts by biting her lip. “Well, we could do with all the hel—”
“Lord Dakon, is that the tail end of what I think it is?”
They both turned to see Lord Narvelan striding towards them.
“Our army,” Dakon confirmed.
“About time,” the young magician said. “How many do you reckon have joined us this time?”
“About fifty.”
“The king has done well, then. Let’s see who’s here.”
Quickening their stride, they overtook carts and servants and gradually caught up with the magicians at the head of the column as it reached the house Werrin and Sabin had taken over as the magicians’ meeting place. The two leaders were already standing on the steps, waiting to greet the newcomers.
The new arrivals stopped, dismounted and exchanged greetings with the king’s representative and the sword master. Three disappeared into the house with them.
“And so the levels of power shift again,” Narvelan said. “Pushing us further down the hierarchy.”
“You’ve done well up to now,” Dakon said. “Werrin still listens to you.”
Narvelan nodded. “I think this time I may graciously step back into my proper place and stay there. Not because of anything anyone has said,” he added quickly. “But after listening to Sabin these last few weeks...he is far smarter and more qualified than I. A true warrior. Everything I’ve thought of and suggested seems trite and naive next to his grasp of strategy. And it is nice to see some responsibility move to others.”
Dakon glanced at his friend, then looked away. Narvelan had changed since the confrontation in Tecurren. Though they’d won that fight, the magician had become hesitant and doubtful. He talked of the victory with a touch of regret. Dakon suspected he had realised, for the first time, that he might die in this war and he hadn’t worked out how to deal with the fear. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that he had killed another man. Narvelan had quietly admitted to Dakon that he could not help feeling uncomfortable about that victory, even after finding out what the Sachakans had done to the villagers.
Perhaps it would be beneficial for Narvelan to take a rest from the pressure of decision-making.
“I saw the wisdom of retiring to the sidelines a while back,” Dakon said. “After all, there’s plenty of other work requiring magicians. I’m concentrating on teaching apprentices instead. Want to join me?”
Narvelan grimaced. “Avoiding having to teach is why I’ve resisted taking on an apprentice for so long. I’m too young. I don’t enjoy it. And I’m not good at it. Which is probably why I don’t enjoy it. Praise the king for letting us have a servant as our source.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Dakon warned. “I doubt anyone will approve of his relaxing the law permanently. It’s too much like slavery.”
“We’ll see,” Narvelan replied. “So long as we pay the servant in some way it seems reasonable to me. And if too many magicians like the idea it will be hard for King Errik to reinstate the law.”
Dakon frowned, not liking the hopeful tone in Narvelan’s voice. He still hadn’t decided how to respond to the young magician’s comment when a servant hurried over to them.
“Lord Werrin requests your presence at the meeting, Lord Narvelan,” the man said. He turned to Dakon. “And yours too, Lord Dakon.”
Surprised, Dakon exchanged a look of puzzlement with Narvelan. Then he remembered Tessia and turned to her.
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “I have plenty of work to do and Jayan has, perhaps foolishly, offered to help. We’re both going to stink of husroot by tomorrow.”
“At least it’ll make you easier to find,” Dakon replied. She grinned, then headed away towards the house where they’d taken up residence, the owners, like many in Calia, having offered the use of it to the magicians after they evacuated to Imardin. Dakon looked at Narvelan, who shrugged, then nodded to the servant to indicate that he should lead them to Werrin.
From the greeting hall, the servant led them into a corridor then stopped in front of a closed door. He knocked and a voice called out. Opening the door, he stepped aside so they could enter. Lord Werrin was standing beside a large table strewn with paper.
“Ah, good,” Werrin said. “I was hoping he’d find you two, sooner rather than later. I have propositions for both of you.” He rubbed his hands together and looked from Dakon to Narvelan and back again. “I don’t want country magicians like you being overlooked and under-represented now that we have so many city magicians in the army, especially not if you lose your entire leys.
At the least, we need you around to remind city magicians what we all will lose if they do not co-operate. You must remain part of all planning and discussion, and to reinforce this I am giving you both official roles. Lord Dakon will be in charge of teachers and organising the lessons of apprentices. Can you think of a good title? Teacher Master, perhaps? I don’t think Apprentice Master will go down well.”
Dakon chuckled. “No, I’d be suspected of taking charge of everyone’s apprentices. Teacher Master implies anyone volunteering to teach has to become a subordinate, and I can’t imagine that would encourage involvement. How about Training Master?”
Werrin nodded. “Yes. I like it. Very good. Now,” he turned to Narvelan, “your role is to liaise between country and city magicians. To head off conflict or settle it when it arises. Are you willing to take on the responsibility?”
Narvelan paused, then nodded slowly. “Yes.” He smiled crookedly.
“What shall we call you, then?”
“Country master? No, that won’t do. Is this title thing necessary?”
“Sabin believes so. The king has nominated him war master.”
“How very grand.”
Werrin eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’ve managed to keep to ‘king’s representative’, thankfully. How about we call you the ley representative?” Werrin looked thoughtful. “Yes, then I can call the magician speaking for city magicians the house representative.”
“Sounds good to me,” Narvelan agreed, nodding.
“Good.” Werrin moved around the table and straightened his clothes. “Now it’s time to meet and discuss our experiences and strategies. We have some new contributors to introduce to the harsh realities of war, and to our way of doing things. I can rely on your support?”
Dakon glanced at Narvelan, who smiled. “Of course.”
“Naturally,” Narvelan replied.
Werrin smiled. “Then let’s go strip a few well-meaning magicians of their delusions and see if they don’t flee back to Imardin.”
He walked past them to the door, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Though you can be sure the king would send them scurrying back again,” he added. “If it weren’t for some firm and sensible advice, he’d be here himself. Sabin wants the chance to whip us into some semblance of a cohesive army before the king comes out to lead us.”
“He does, does he?” Narvelan said.
“Yes.” Werrin looked at Dakon. “So there’s going to be a lot of instruction required in our new fighting techniques.”
Dakon sighed in mock despair. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed so quickly. There had to be a catch somewhere.”
Werrin turned back to the door. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of assistants. I’ll make sure of it. My only concern is that the Sachakans won’t give us any time for preparation. Sabin thinks they may have left the road to avoid being caught between us and our reinforcements. But he believes they will only roam about in the farms and villages of Noven ley long enough to gather more strength before heading towards Imardin. We need to be ready to
