The Magician's Apprentice (21 page)

Laughter echoed down the corridor. Two men were ushered into the room. All rose to greet the newcomers.

“Lord Prinan is here on behalf of his father, Lord Ruskel,” Everran told Dakon. “Lord Bolvin is from Eyren ley.”

Lord Ruskel’s ley was located at the south-eastern end of the mountains bordering Sachaka. It had been Ruskel who had stumbled upon the three “lost” Sachakan magicians in his land, Dakon remembered. Prinan was a young, newly independent magician, trained by his father. He greeted Dakon with nervous deference. Dakon noted that Everran had adopted the new habit of using the title “Lord” for an heir to a ley or house, helping to indicate which offspring would inherit. It was a new custom, which he’d noticed becoming popular during his last few city visits. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

He had met Bolvin some years before, but the man had changed considerably. Several years older than Prinan, and a full head taller, Bolvin had an air of maturity not usually found in one so young. He, like Everran, had inherited too young when his father had disappeared with his ship during a storm; he had an entire ley to manage as well as the family fortune.

Eyren ley was on the west coast, far from any immediate danger in the event of an invasion, yet Lord Bolvin’s expression was serious and sympathetic as he greeted Dakon.
This one understands that the threat will not be over if a few border leys are overrun
, Dakon thought.

Before they had finished their greetings another voice came from the room’s entrance.

“Ah, good, I’m not the only early arrival.”

A tall, slim, middle-aged man walked gracefully into the room. Dakon recognised the man with surprise.

Everran laughed. “You’re actually on time for once, Lord Olleran.”

Olleran was very much a city lord, who had admitted in the past (when turning down invitations to stay with lords outside the city) that he found the country boring and dirty. But it wasn’t that which made his presence at this meeting so surprising. He was also married to a Sachakan. He came forward to grasp Dakon’s arm.

“Welcome back to Imardin, Lord Dakon,” he said. “In case you’re too polite to ask, it was my wife who convinced me that I should join your cause. She says she likes Kyralia just how it is and ordered me to find and help anyone who was doing something to keep it that way.”

Dakon smiled. He had heard it said that Lord Olleran’s early failures in courtship stemmed from a preference for difficult women. When the man married a Sachakan most people thought he’d finally overcome the tendency. But it turned out that this was no ordinary Sachakan woman. Though brought up to be quiet and obedient, she had thrown off her stifling upbringing upon arrival in Kyralia and had worked on a string of charity projects. Dakon had never met her, but she was popular among Avaria’s friends.

“So she believes there is a threat from Sachaka?”

“Her family does. They ordered her home. She refused, of course.” He shook his head sadly. “Which forces me to be glad she is such a disobedient wife.”

More guests arrived. Some, like Lord Gilar, Dakon knew. Some he had heard about but never met. A few were unknown to him. They included a handful of country lords or their representatives, and two more city lords. Of the latter, Dakon knew Magician Sabin by reputation. He was a skilled sword master who had studied warfare extensively.
That one will have good advice if we ever face a battle
, Dakon decided.
But I’m not sure if he’ll be useful to me now.

Soon the room was echoing with voices and no one bothered sitting back down after greeting a new arrival. They stood in small groups, talking. Once the last magician was ushered into the room and introduced, Everran rang a small gong to get everyone’s attention. Voices fell silent. Everyone looked towards their host.

“As you know, I’ve called this meeting with a purpose other than good conversation and food – which will arrive shortly. Lord Dakon has journeyed to Imardin from distant Aylen ley to approach the king on our behalf. What we need to decide today is: what should he say to the king? What shouldn’t he say? What do we want to gain? What do we hope to avoid?”

A short silence followed as the men exchanged glances, looking to see who would speak first.

“We need an assurance that he will send out a force of magicians to retake and protect border leys if they are overcome,” Prinan said. “At least, that’s what my father said.”

Everran nodded. “And he is right.” He turned to Dakon. “This is what Lord Narvelan asked you to do?”

Dakon nodded. “Yes.”

“But isn’t it insulting to the king to suggest he wouldn’t retake leys?” Bolvin asked.

The magicians’ reaction to this was a mixture of shrugs and nods. Dakon noted how several heads had turned towards Sabin. For some reason they thought him a greater authority on the king than anyone else here.

“He would find it so,” Sabin agreed. “He would know there is more to the request than what you ask for, and be annoyed that you think him fool enough not to see it.”

“It’s all in the way you ask for it,” Olleran said, looking round. “You would have to say: “There are some, in the city, who have been heard to express the opinion that the outer leys aren’t worth fighting for in the event they are taken. What is your opinion, your majesty?’”

Sabin chuckled and looked at Olleran. “How many times have you practised that little speech?” he asked quietly.

Olleran shrugged modestly. “A few…hundred.”

“And if he wants to know who expressed this opinion, what do I say?” Dakon asked. “Will I need names?”

“Tell him lords who won’t act unless it brings them direct benefits,” Wayel growled. “Magicians unwilling to put their lives at risk, through selfishness or cowardice.”

“We must make them see a lack of action will cost them more in the long term,” Bolvin said. “The Sachakans won’t stop at a few outer leys. They will see a lack of a resistance as a sign of weakness, and take all.”

“Some will not believe that. Not until it is too late,” Sabin predicted. “Magical ability does not come only to those with foresight.”

“Or common sense,” Everran agreed. “But most of the reluctant would change their minds if an attack did come. For now they hold higher the opinions of their most powerful allies because they feel they have to, but faced with the news of an attack they might decide that, if we proved to be right about an invasion of the outer leys, we might prove to be right about the consequences of not driving the Sachakans back out.”

“They had better change their minds,” Bolvin muttered. Others nodded and a small silence followed. Dakon held his tongue. They had not answered his question, but perhaps the digression would come back round to the subject again if he waited.

“Would the more resistant help us for a fee?” Prinan asked.

The room vibrated with noises of protest.

“The king would not condone it!” Bolvin declared.

Dakon shivered. “If he allowed the Sachakans to hold our land without resistance, he would have sunk so low that allowing others to demand a fee to help us will seem a minor crime.”

“We will only buy help if we are desperate,” Everran assured him.

“If we get to that point I’m not sure I’d have much regard left for my own countrymen,” Sabin said, sighing.

Gilar nodded in agreement. “Are the Sachakans in the city a problem?” He smiled at Olleran. “Aside from your lovely wife, of course.”

“Oh, she’s a problem, just not in the way you mean,” Olleran said, with an unconvincing grimace. “More my own private little problem.”

“You do long-suffering very badly, Olleran,” Sabin said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“Most are traders,” Wayel said, ignoring the banter. “And there’s Emperor Vochira’s representative. A few women who married Kyralians.” He nodded to Olleran. “I expect if they are a danger it will be only in the usual ways: they may be spies, and might attempt to bribe or trick Kyralians into doing harm here.”

“The people we have to worry about,” Sabin said, “are the more powerful Kyralian families, especially those who have troubles a rich offer from Sachaka could help to solve. Debts. A lack of buyers for produce. Competitors.”

Ah, good
, Dakon thought.
Back to the subject of who might speak against us…

“Who?” he asked. “Are they the same people speaking out against us now?”

Wayel shook his head. “It may be unwise to start pointing fingers at anybody in particular. That is not a wise approach.”

Sabin nodded. “What the lords think is irrelevant. They will not be making the decision to regain the border leys if they are taken. The king will.”

“So should Dakon try to convince the king that the leys are worth keeping?” Prinan asked.

Everran shook his head. “That should only come if we are convinced he believes otherwise. Wayel is right. Mentioning adverse opinions is a dangerous justification for seeking his assurance of protection. He is bound to ask who expressed those opinions, and who passed that information on, and hesitate to believe any of it if we have no proof, and it just sounds like gossip.” He sighed. “No, it is by presenting the latest evidence we have that we can justify seeking reassurance from him.”

The others nodded. Dakon suppressed a sigh of relief. At last they were agreeing with each other.

“Plainly and simply, so he doesn’t think we’re jumping to conclusions,” Wayel added quietly.

“I don’t think there’s any danger he’ll think that of Dakon.” Everran smiled and nodded to his guest. “And if Dakon appears to need reassuring for his own benefit, rather than for the benefit of us all, it may be enough of a prompt to extract promises from the king.”

“A promise to Dakon, not us,” one of the other ley magicians pointed out.

“Would there be a difference, ultimately?” someone else asked.

“King Errik is hardly going to make such a promise to one ley magician and not others,” Sabin said quietly. “Unless, of course, he
wanted
to show favour – but in this case it would be foolish to risk jealousy among the country magicians. He wants them united, not competing with each other.”

“Are you sure?” Wayel asked. “He might want to use such a ploy to divide us, to stop us pestering him.”

“He won’t,” Sabin said. The others nodded in acceptance, once again demonstrating to Dakon the respect the others had for the sword master.

“So if he makes a promise, it will be to all of us?” Prinan asked.

Sabin nodded. “But I will be surprised if he makes any promises. He does not give any ground if he does not have to. At least, not in a practice bout.”

Suddenly the source of the respect the others showed the sword master was obvious.
Sabin must spar with the king
, Dakon thought.
That
would
give him some insight into the man’s intellect and character.
Then another possibility occurred to him.
I wonder if he is one of the magicians who give magical strength to the king?

Everran sighed. “No doubt it is too much to expect, but if Dakon can extract or spark some discussion on the form and timing of the king’s aid, it would be easier for us to make plans – ah! Let’s talk about that later. Here’s the food!”

As servants entered the room carrying platters of food, glasses and flagons of wine and water, the visitors moved to the benches. Some struck up conversations with their neighbours as they ate, rehashing what they’d already covered. Dakon considered what he’d heard so far. He didn’t feel as though he’d gained much insight into how to approach the king yet. The talk had gone in circles.

As he looked at Everran, the man smiled and tilted his head toward his friends slightly as if to ask “Are you listening to this?”

Suddenly it became clear to Dakon what Everran expected. These powerful men did not like to be pushed or interrupted, especially when caught up in passionate discussion. No, it was up to Dakon to take note of what was said by whom, and select which men to approach later and ask more specific advice about the coming meeting.

And what would he ask? What he needed to know was how King Errik might react to certain approaches and suggestions. Sabin appeared to be, unexpectedly, the man closest to the king. Dakon would have chosen Wayel at first, but the man had asked some questions Dakon had expected him to know the answer to, so perhaps he was too new in his position. And the others?

When the discussions began again, Dakon decided, he would insert a few comments and questions designed to reveal more about these men. He waved away the offer of wine, opting for water instead.

As on every visit to the city Dakon had made before, it took some time to adjust to the more subtle ways matters were tackled here. This time he had to adapt fast, because the level of politics the king was involved in was a complicated and tortuous one indeed, and soon he would be meeting with the man himself.

Through the window flap of the wagon’s cover Tessia saw a frightening and thrilling sight. A great crowd of people and wagons filled the streets, all pushing in different directions. More people than wagons – and there were plenty of those. More people in one place than she’d ever seen before. The mass of them, the sense of gathered force, the roar of voices, set her heart racing.

The reason the Parade was so crowded lay at the foot of it. A mass of people had gathered there, and the sound of music rose faintly above the crowd. Flashes of colour promised strange sights.

The market.

“We should have left earlier,” Avaria said for the fourth time, sighing and smoothing her carefully pinned hair.

They had talked about Tessia’s childhood and upbringing, the reason her father had moved to Mandryn, how Tessia had discovered her powers (Avaria accepted that Takado had merely “given her a fright’) and all the interesting incidents on the journey to Imardin. Tessia was beginning to wonder if she’d used up all the significant stories of her life within her first day in the city.

She also felt as if she was talking about herself too much. But when she asked Avaria the same sorts of questions, the woman would begin an anecdote about her childhood or apprenticeship, only to be reminded of something else she wanted to ask Tessia.