The Magician’s Apprentice

defeated. At least this way Dakon has two apprentices to draw from.”

“But if you were a higher magician, you’d have your own source to draw from, and there’d be another fighter in the army.” She chuckled. “And the women would have even more reason to annoy you with their flirting and their interest.” She paused and looked at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Dakon taught you higher magic soon, for that very reason.”

Jayan felt his heart skip. She might be right. But the possibility roused an unexpected reluctance. Why? Am I afraid to stand on my own? To be responsible for my own life?

Tessia was smiling at him knowingly. I’ve never said anything to her about my frustration at the delay in finishing my training, he thought. Yet she’s worked it out for herself. She understands me. And I think she’s finally stopped hating me.

And then it was obvious why he was reluctant to end his apprenticeship with Dakon. It would take him away from Tessia.

He blinked in surprise. Is that really it? Do I truly feel that way about her? He felt a strange sensation, both pleasant and painful. Amazing how the admiration he’d always felt was suddenly enhanced by his recognition of it. Then he remembered what she’d said earlier.

“ . . . gives you a certain kind of glamour that some women are attracted to. Well, I’m glad I’m not...”

His heart sank.

It was possible his feelings would change. Then it’s possible hers might, too. He pushed that thought aside. No. Leave it be. War is not a good time to be caring too much about anyone, or having them care about you. At any point either one of us could die. I’d rather not make it more painful – for either of us. In fact, she’d be better off hating me.

Which is just as well, because I’m very good at making women do that.

As Hanara headed towards the house Takado had claimed in the tiny village, he passed two slaves carrying away the remains of the reber that had been roasted for the night’s meal. Pausing, he ducked in close and grabbed a large chunk of meat. Only half of the animal had been eaten, he saw, so the slaves would eat well tonight. But Takado was often awake late into the night discussing strategy with his closest allies, so if Hanara and Jochara didn’t grab what food they could, it would be gone by the time Takado retired.

He gnawed away at the meat as he hurried to the house, where he retrieved a bottle of wine from the store of them he’d found in the cellar. He paused to finish the meat, chewing and swallowing quickly, so that he could wipe the grease from his hands and not risk dropping the bottle on the return trip.

To make up for the lost time, he jogged back, nursing the bottle carefully. Only Takado’s three closest allies remained by the campfire they’d set up in the middle of the road: Rokino, his old ichani friend, Dachido and Asara.

Hanara prostrated himself and held up the bottle. He felt it taken from his grasp. Takado said nothing. After a short wait, the slave crawled backwards on all fours, then sat on his haunches and looked around. Jochara was nowhere to be seen.

“You don’t have enough slaves,” Asara said, looking at Takado. “A leader ought to have more slaves than anybody else.”

Takado shrugged. “I could try to bring a few more over, but I can’t go myself and those I’d trust with the task I need here. It would be such a menial favour to ask it would be insulting.”

“Then take one of mine,” Asara offered. “No, take two.” She turned and called out. “Chinka! Dokko!”

Turning to look over his shoulder, Takado looked at Hanara, his expression thoughtful and amused. “You’d serve me better if I didn’t wear you out all the time, wouldn’t you, Hanara?”

Hanara bent forward to place his forehead on the ground. “My life is yours to use as you wish,” he said.

The woman laughed. “Ah, here they come.”

Stealing a quick glance, Hanara saw that Takado’s attention had moved away from him again. All the magicians were looking at a pair of slaves who had thrown themselves on the ground in front of Asara. A woman, lean and strong, and a large, well-muscled man.

“They are two of my best.” Asara said proudly. “They’re in good condition. Chinka used to work in the kitchens, but she is also useful at cleaning, mending clothes and shoes, treating minor hurts, light carrying duties and other general tasks. Dokko is a good maker – useful for more than just heavy work – and he’s good with horses.” She turned back to Takado. “Which I am surprised you haven’t acquired yet. We would travel faster with them.”

“Would we?” Takado shook his head. “Horses need feed, rest and slaves to look after them. And unless we have horses for our slaves we will travel just as slowly as we are doing now.”

“But we don’t always have to keep our slaves with us. We could attack rapidly, without warning, and return to them.”

Takado nodded. “Yes, there may be times when the risk of leaving them alone and vulnerable will prove worthwhile. Still, for now I prefer not to have to take care of a horse.”

“You won’t have to, if you take my slaves.”

Takado fell silent, his expression thoughtful. Hanara held his breath. How would two more slaves change his own situation? There would be less work. He would certainly welcome having less to carry each day, though that would not remain the case if Takado gained more belongings. But Hanara had no skills to make up for the man’s brawn, or the woman’s usefulness. And if Takado took the woman to bed . . . Hanara knew he could never compete with that.

But I am a source slave, he thought. I will always have higher status because of that.

Takado was nodding. “I accept. I thank you, Asara. It is a thoughtful gift. They are clearly valuable slaves for you to be losing.”

The woman waved a hand gracefully. “I will miss them, but I can see now that I brought too many slaves with me. You need them more than I.”

“Chinka. Dokko,” Takado said. “Get up and sit behind Hanara.” As the pair obeyed, Hanara kept his eyes downcast. He heard them settle behind him. For a moment he thought one had disobeyed Takado, taking a position beside him, but when he looked he saw that Jochara had returned. The young man carried a metal tube that contained the map of Kyralia that Takado had brought with him.

“You are both – and you, too, Jochara – to follow Hanara’s orders unless they conflict with mine. Do you understand?”

Murmurs of affirmation followed. Hanara stared at the ground, his eyes wide. He’s put me in charge! His heart began to pound. It was a frighteningly important responsibility. What if they won’t obey me? What if they do something wrong? Will I be punished for it? What—

An unfamiliar voice interrupted his panicked thoughts.

“Magicians... coming . . .” a slave was panting even as he threw himself on the ground. “Many. Fast. From. Emper...or. Wear. Rings.”

The magicians hadn’t moved, but their smiles had vanished. None voiced the worries written on their faces. Had the emperor sent forces to stop Takado? Were they about to attack? Whistles came from scouts to one side of the village.

Takado rose. He snapped out orders, sending Hanara and the other slaves scampering about to alert all the magicians, or the slaves of the magicians who were asleep since they knew best how to rouse their masters. Soon there were magicians and slaves crowding the road. Hanara positioned himself a step behind Takado, who stood between Dachido and Asara.

Interesting, Hanara thought. Rokino has known Takado the longest, but he is an ichani. Dachido and Asara outrank him and are a lot smarter than Takado’s other ichani friends. Lately Takado is favouring their company and opinions above the others’.

As the last stragglers joined the crowd around Takado a large group of men rode into sight around a bend in the road. Globes of light hovered over them. The brightness set weapons and beaded clothes aglitter. Hanara looked for the rings of the emperor and caught a glint of gold here and there.

There must have been at least forty magicians. Of their slaves there was no sign.

The man at the head of the group was tall and wrinkled, with white in his dark hair. He led the men forward and stopped ten strides from the crowd. Back straight and head high, he scanned the crowd once before his gaze