Труди Канаван - The Magician’s Apprentice

The Sachakan estates they passed had reduced in size in the last few days, Jayan noticed. He’d learned to identify the markers that indicated a fence was a boundary as well as containment for stock. However, though the land each estate covered was growing smaller, the buildings were growing rapidly larger.

It’s obvious we’re getting close to Arvice, but everything is deserted , he thought. The quiet is... eerie. He’d felt tense and uneasy since they’d set out that morning.

“I heard a rumour about you last night,” a familiar voice said from behind his shoulder.

Recognising Narvelan’s tones, Jayan resisted turning around to look at the magician.

“What this time?” Dakon asked.

Narvelan laughed. Jayan winced at the sound. Narvelan’s lightheartedness and joviality seemed out of place, and a painful contrast to the rest of the army. We’re about to fight our final battle with our ancient enemy, and he’s behaving as if we’re taking a nice ride in the sunshine.

“I overheard some magicians speculating whether you arranged for those two magicians to be poisoned,” Narvelan said. “They wondered if you’d heard the pair criticising you for being too scrupulous to kill slaves.”

“I see,” Dakon said calmly. “Did they see the irony in suspecting someone had done something so unscrupulous because he was accused of being too scrupulous?”

Narvelan chuckled. “I didn’t stop to ask. Have you noticed anyone treating you with increased, ah, respect?”

“No.”

Jayan shook his head. But then he remembered how quiet and obedient the servants had been that morning, as he and Dakon had supervised the preparation of the meal. As a precaution they’d kept a few rassook alive to feed samples to, watching to see if any poison affected the birds. They also mixed supplies from different estates together, in the hope that if one had been tampered with it might be diluted enough to not be lethal.

“Ah,” Narvelan said. “They have finally come out to greet us.”

The magician surged past Jayan, galloping towards the king and Sabin. Looking after him, Jayan realised the walls of the estates ahead were no longer a distance from the road, but instead hugged it. The roofs and upper floors of the buildings within were all that were visible and suggested that most of the area inside was filled with dwellings and other structures.

Where these walls started, a road bisected the one they were riding along. Along this stood a line of people. Sunlight glinted on jewelled and decorated clothing. Jayan counted and realised there were more magicians in this line than in the Kyralian army. He felt his heart sink.

But as he drew closer to the Sachakans he noted other details. Many were old, stooped and grey-haired. Others were as young as a new apprentice. A few were cripples, missing limbs or carrying walking canes. The few women among them looked either terrified or determined, most standing close to a man of their own age or one old enough to be their father.

Jayan exchanged a look of dismay with Dakon. Nearly a third of the enemy were clearly not suited to fighting.

This is a pathetic sight , Jayan thought. And yet instead of feeling relieved that we might have a better chance of winning, I feel sad for these Sachakans. And I can’t help admiring them for being prepared to defend their city.

Magician Sabin and Dem Ayend were riding close on either side of the king now. King Errik was looking from one to the other as they talked, his brows lowered into a frown. The army slowed as it approached the line of Sachakans, finally coming to a halt less than twenty strides away. By then the leaders had stopped talking. They sat, regarding the enemy in silence for a long moment. Then the king nudged his horse a few paces forward.

“Magicians of Sachaka,” he called out. “We know not all of you supported Takado’s invasion of Kyralia. If you surrender to us, if you can prove you were no supporter of Takado and his allies, if you co-operate and show no resistance, we will spare you.”

No voice rose in answer. No Sachakan stepped forward, or left the line. Jayan watched and waited.

“Get on with it, then,” one of them shouted. “You came for a fight. So fight. Or are you going to wait until we die of old age?”

A faint sigh of nervous laughter spread across the enemy line. Jayan saw a few strained smiles.

“Do you speak for the emperor?” the king asked.

“The emperor is waiting at the Imperial Palace. If you get that far he might spare a moment to see you.”

Magician Sabin rode forward to join the king. “I don’t think we have any choice,” Jayan heard him say.

“No,” the king replied. “And we didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

He raised a hand, palm outward, to signal that the army should move into position. A flash seared Jayan’s sight as one of the Sachakans took this to mean the start of the battle. The strike scattered off a shield and Sabin sent off a strike in return. As the Kyralian army spread out into formation, groups forming out of habit as much as intention, the air between the lines filled with flashing, vibrating magic.

As Dakon moved away to take his usual place among the advisers and leaders, Jayan found Everran and Avaria nearby and lent his strength to the pair. He realised he felt neither fear nor confidence. All he felt was the same disquiet that had nagged at him all morning.

At about the same time as the first Sachakan fell, Jayan’s strength ran out.

Unlike the rest of the army, he’d only taken part in one attack on an estate. Even Dakon had more power, since he’d taken the strength of the magician who’d died from poisoning. I am probably the weakest Kyralian magician here. Strange that nobody questioned my decision to not kill slaves, when they clearly questioned Dakon’s.

He remained in the shelter of Everran and Avaria’s group. Instead of feeling useless, as he’d feared he would at this point, he felt as if he wasn’t really there. Absent. An observer at most.

The Sachakans were not protecting each other, he noticed. The lessons Takado’s army had learned had not been taken back into Sachaka. Where is Takado? Jayan wondered. Why isn’t he leading this last, desperate force? I can believe Emperor Vochira is hiding away, letting others fight for him, but I think Takado would face us if he had the choice. For all his nasty ways, he did have pride in himself and his homeland.

If the king had been correct about the number of magicians in Sachaka before the war, then there must be more of them elsewhere. The force facing the army was large, but it didn’t approach a hundred. And some of them looked like unlikely candidates for being taught magic. They might only have had their power loosed and been taught to strike in the last few days. If so, then they might not even have achieved full control yet.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the apprentices and servants waiting several paces behind, as close as they dared to come to the battle, but not so far away that the army couldn’t protect them if they were attacked. Between them, the apprentices had probably recovered enough power overnight to ward off a few strikes, but not a concentrated attack from higher magicians.

“What are they...?” Lord Everran exclaimed quietly. Jayan glanced at him, saw he was looking at the Sachakans, and followed the man’s gaze.

The enemy line had fragmented. Sachakans were dashing sideways, or back along the main road. Disappearing into doorways, though a few were caught by strikes before they could reach them.

They’re running away .

From the bodies on the ground Jayan guessed about a third had fallen. He saw that the leaders and advisers of the Kyralian side were talking, and strained to hear.