Труди Канаван - The Magician’s Apprentice

Dakon chuckled and moved to another, slightly scorched, chair. “He wasn’t pleased. No, he looked disgusted.”

Sachakans hated naturals, Jayan knew. They didn’t fit into Sachakan social structure, a problem which was usually more dangerous for the natural than for the master. A person’s powers had to be particularly strong to surface on their own, yet no ordinary magician, no matter how powerful, could hope to match the strength of a higher magician, who had taken and stored magic numerous times from their slaves or apprentices. But a trained magician was much more dangerous to keep as a slave than an untrained latent. Sachakan naturals were too much trouble, and therefore doomed to die, if not killed by a magician then when they eventually lost control of their powers.

“It’s fortunate that I discovered them when I did,” Dakon added. “I suspect he would have killed her, and expected me to thank him for doing me a favour.”

Jayan shuddered. “And risk the uncontrolled release of her power when she died?”

“No risk if he drained her of power first.” Dakon sighed. “Takado knows I would have dealt with her before now if she had already shown signs of natural ability, so he could safely assume her power must only just be surfacing, and not be particularly dangerous.”

Jayan looked at the scorched and cracked wall. “That’s not dangerous?”

“It would be to a non-magician,” Dakon agreed. “It’s mostly cosmetic, though. Not much force behind it, or she’d have blown a hole in the wall.”

“How much damage would she have done if she’d been at the point of losing control completely?”

“The whole house. Maybe the village. Naturals are usually stronger than the average magician. Some have even suggested that those of us who would never have gained access to our power without help from our masters were never meant to be magicians.”

“The whole village.” Jayan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “When are you going to test her?”

Dakon sighed, then rose to his feet. “The sooner the better. I’ll give her a little time to get over the shock of what happened, then pay her family a visit, probably after dinner. I suspect she’d think me neglectful if I didn’t at least check to see if she was all right.” He strode to the door.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” Dakon smiled in gratitude. “The fewer scary magicians in her house the better.”

Then he turned and headed down the corridor.

CHAPTER 5

The house in which Healer Veran lived with his family was one of three that Dakon’s father had ordered constructed over thirty years before, to attract skilled men to the village. Looking at the simple, sturdy building with a critical eye, Dakon was happy to see it was showing no outward signs of decay. He relied on the occupants to tell him when repairs were needed. Sometimes villagers were too shy, proud, or even ignorant to ask for work to be done and as a result some of the houses hadn’t been as well maintained as they ought to have been.

Dakon’s and Veran’s fathers had been close friends for many years. Lord Yerven had met the opinionated Healer Berin in Imardin, and been so impressed by him that he offered him a position in his ley. Dakon had grown up not realising that their friendship was unusual for two men of different status and age. The twelve years’ difference in age was the lesser barrier since both men were in their middle to later years, but a close friendship that lasted when one was a subordinate and the other the local magician and lord was rare.

Dakon’s father had died five years ago, at the age of seventy-seven, and Berin had passed away less than a year later. Though Yerven had children late in life, and the difference in age between Dakon and Veran was smaller than that between their fathers, they had never been more than acquaintances.

We may not be close friends but we have a respect for each other , Dakon thought now. At least, I hope he knows how much I value him. He lifted a hand to knock on the door, then froze. Should I tell him what I suspect brought about Tessia’s possible use of magic?

No , he decided. I can’t be sure what she and Takado were doing, although I doubt Tessia initiated or welcomed it. Even so, I should leave it to Tessia to decide how much anyone learns of the matter. And I might be wrong. It’s always possible, though highly unlikely, she approached him.

He knocked, and after a short wait the door opened. Tessia’s mother, Lasia, answered. She lifted a small lamp.

“Lord Dakon,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. Stepping inside, he looked through an open door to the right and saw a homely kitchen with freshly washed dishes on the table. The door opposite was closed, but he knew from past visits that Veran’s workroom was beyond. Berin had used the room for the same purpose. Lasia knocked on the door and called out to her husband. A muffled reply came from within.

“Come into the seating room, Lord Dakon,” she urged, leading him to the end of the short corridor, where she opened another door and stepped back to let him pass through. He entered a small, slightly musty-smelling room containing a few old chairs and some sturdy wooden chests and tables. Following him in, Lasia bade him take a chair, then lit another lamp. Footsteps in the corridor heralded Veran’s arrival.

“Is Tessia here?” Dakon asked.

Lasia nodded. “She’s asleep. I looked in on her before dinner, but she didn’t wake up. She’s clearly exhausted.”

Dakon nodded. Should I ask them to rouse her? If I tell them without her, I’ll have to explain it all again to Tessia . But she probably needed the sleep, after all the work of the night before, and the surprises of the day.

“Tessia came to the Residence earlier,” he began.

“Yes. We’re sorry about that,” Lasia interrupted. “She should have waited for her father, but we were asleep and I expect she thought she was doing Veran a favour. Sometimes I think she has no grasp of proper manners, or, worse, she knows but chooses to—”

“I have no problem with her coming alone to the Residence,” Dakon assured her. “That is not why I am here.”

Veran had laid a hand on his wife’s arm during her outburst. Now he looked at Dakon, his eyebrows rising.

“Is it the slave? Has his condition worsened?”

“No.” Dakon shook his head. “He is awake and has managed to eat some broth. Tessia said he was healing well.” He paused. “It is what happened afterwards that I must talk to you about.”

The couple exchanged a glance, then looked at Dakon expectantly.

“On her way out of the Residence Tessia was... surprised by my guest,” Dakon continued. “The Sachakan. I think he gave her a fright. She may or may not have done something quite extraordinary in reaction.”

Lasia’s eye widened. Veran frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I think she used magic.”

For a long moment the couple stared at him, then as realisation came a grin broke out on Veran’s face. Lasia had turned pale, but suddenly she flushed a bright red and her eyes brightened with excitement. By then, Veran had smothered his smile and become serious.

“You’re not sure, are you?” he asked.

Dakon shook his head. “No. It is possible Takado made it appear she had used magic, as some kind of strange joke. But it is—”

“I thought you did it!”

Everybody jumped. The voice, female and full of surprise, came from the doorway. They all turned to find Tessia standing there. She stared at Lord Dakon. “So it was him ?”

“Tessia!” Lasia exclaimed. “Use Lord Dakon’s name when you address him.”