Труди Канаван: The Magician’s Apprentice

“Off to bed now, the both of you,” her mother said as soon as they had finished. Neither of them argued as she ordered them upstairs to their rooms. Intense weariness washed over Tessia as she changed into nightclothes. Climbing under the covers, she sighed contentedly.

Just as she began to drift into sleep the sound of voices roused her again.

The sound was coming from across the corridor. From her parents’ bedroom. Remembering her conversation with her father the previous day, she felt a twinge of anxiety. She pushed herself into a sitting position, then swung her feet down to the floor.

Her door made only a thin, quiet squeak as she opened it. The last time she had listened in on a late night conversation between her parents had been many years before, when she was only a child. Padding slowly and silently to their door, she pressed her ear to the wood.

“You want them too,” her mother said. “Of course. But I would never expect that of Tessia if she didn’t want them,” her father replied.

“You’d be disappointed, though.”

“And relieved. It is always a risk. I’ve seen too many healthy women die.”

“It is a risk we must all take. To not have children out of fear is wrong. Yes, it is a risk, but the rewards are so great. She could deny herself great joy. And who will look after her when she is old?”

Silence followed.

“If she had a son, you could train the boy,” her mother added.

“It is too late for that. When I have grown too old to work the boy would still be too young and inexperienced to take on the responsibility.”

“So you train Tessia instead? She can’t replace you. You know that.”

“She might, if she shared the task with another healer. She could be...I don’t know what to call it... something between a healer and a birthmother. A...a ‘carer’, perhaps. Or at least an assistant.”

Tessia wanted to interrupt, to tell them that she could be more than half a healer, but she kept silent and still. Bursting into the room, after having obviously eavesdropped, would hardly do anything to change her mother’s mind.

“You have to take on a village boy,” her mother said firmly.

“And you must stop training her. It has filled her head with impossible ideas. She will not even consider marriage or raising a family until she stops trying to be a healer.”

“If I am to employ a new apprentice he will take time to train. I will need Tessia’s assistance in the meantime. The village is growing larger, and will keep growing. By the time I have trained this boy we may need two healers here. Tessia could continue her work – perhaps marry as well.”

“Her husband would not allow it.”

“He might, if she chose the right man. An intelligent man...”

“A tolerant man. A man who does not mind gossip and breaking tradition. Where is she going to find such a one?”

Tessia’s father was silent a long time.

“I’m tired. I need to sleep,” he said eventually.

“We both do. I was up most of the night worrying about you two. Especially with Tessia being in the same house as that Sachakan brute.”

“We were in no danger. Lord Dakon is a good man.”

The few words that followed were muffled. Tessia waited until the pair had not spoken for some time, then carefully crept back to her bed.

Last night I proved my worth to him , she thought smugly. He can’t ask me to stop assisting him now. He knows no foolish village boy would have had the nerve or knowledge to deal with that slave’s injuries.

But I did.

CHAPTER 3

At the soft tap on the door, Apprentice Jayan smiled. He turned and sent out a small surge and twist of magic to the handle. With a click the door swung inward. Beyond the doorway, a young woman bowed as best she could, laden as she was with a large tray.

“Greetings, Apprentice Jayan,” she chimed as she entered the room. Carrying her burden over to him, she set it on one ample hip and began transferring bowls, plates and cups onto the desk.

“Greetings to you, Malia,” he replied. “You’re looking particularly cheerful today.”

“I am,” she said. “The lord’s guest is leaving today.”

He straightened. “He is? Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. I guess he can’t cope without a slave tending to his every need.” She sent him a sidelong, thoughtful look. “I wonder, could you get by without me?”

Jayan ignored her question and the obvious hook for a compliment. “Why hasn’t he got a slave? What happened to the slave he arrived with?”

Malia’s eyes rounded. “Of course. You wouldn’t know. And you wouldn’t have heard anything, hidden here in the back of the Residence. Takado beat his slave almost to death yesterday afternoon. Healer Veran worked on him the full night.” Despite her matter-of-fact tone, her quick gestures betrayed her uneasiness. He guessed all the servants would be unnerved by the Sachakan’s behaviour. They knew that, to him, there was little difference between them and a slave.

But Malia’s smile had quickly returned, and it was a sly one. She knew what the Sachakan’s departure would mean for him. He looked at her expectantly.

“And?”

The smile widened. “And what?”

“Did he live or die?”

“Oh.” She frowned, then shrugged. “I assume he’s still alive, or we’d have heard something.”

Jayan stood up and moved to the window. He wanted to seek Dakon and discover more, but his master had ordered him to remain in his room while the Sachakan was staying in the Residence. Looking out of the window, down at the closed stable doors and empty yard, he chewed his lip.

If I can’t find out myself, Malia will be more than willing to get information for me.

Trouble was, she always wanted a little more than thanks in return for her favours. While she was pretty enough, Dakon had long ago warned him that young female house servants had a habit of taking a fancy to young male apprentice magicians – or their influence and fortunes – and he was not to take advantage of them, or allow himself to be taken advantage of by them. While Jayan knew his master was forgiving of the occasional mistake or misbehaviour, he had also learned over the last four years that the magician had subtle and unpleasant ways to punish unacceptable conduct. He did not believe Dakon would resort to the ultimate punishment for such misconduct – send an apprentice back to his family with his education unfinished and without the knowledge of higher magic that marked him as an independent magician – but he didn’t fancy Malia enough to test that belief. Or any young woman of Mandryn, for that matter.

The trick with Malia was never to actually ask for anything. Only express a wish to know something. If she provided information he’d asked for, she considered he owed her something in return.

“I wonder when the Sachakan will leave,” he murmured.

“Oh, probably not till dusk,” Malia said lightly. “

Dusk? Why would he travel at night?”

She smiled and slipped the tray under her arm. “I don’t know, but I like the thought of you stuck here, all by yourself, for another whole day. After all, you don’t want to risk he’ll take a fancy to you, and take you home with him in place of his slave, do you? Enjoy your day.”

Chuckling, she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Jayan stared at the back of the door, not sure if she’d seen through his ploy or was merely seizing an opportunity to tease him.

Then he sighed, returned to his desk and began his morning meal.

At first Jayan hadn’t minded Dakon’s decision that he must stay in his room for the duration of the Sachakan’s visit. He had plenty of books to read and study, and didn’t mind being alone. He wasn’t worried that Takado would attempt to kidnap him, as Malia had suggested, since Sachakans didn’t make slaves of anyone who had access to their magical abilities. They preferred slaves with powerful latent talent, who could not use magic yet would provide their master with plenty of magical strength to absorb.