The Magician's Apprentice

  There were no Kyralians, she noted. A few grey-skinned men wearing only short skirts of cloth were selling gemstones.

  “Who are they?” she asked Vora.

  “Duna,” Vora replied. “Tribesmen from the ash desert in the north.”

  As she walked around the market, examining goods and fending off sellers with a polite smile and a shake of her head, she listened to the talk, moving closer if she saw two traders in conversation. She caught half-hearted curses aimed at the ichani who were disrupting trade with Kyralia. Some enthused about the opportunities that would come once Kyralia was conquered. Others worried that the ichani would then turn on the emperor and throw Sachaka into a war with itself.

  Stara thought about the opinions of her father’s guests. They had argued that Sachaka had been heading for an internal battle already.

  Trust my luck to end up in Sachaka at the wrong time.

  As she and Vora turned a corner she saw a man glance at them, then give Vora a second look. His gaze immediately moved back to Stara and he smiled. She gave him a polite but distant nod, lowered her eyes and continued past.

  She was amused to find her heart was beating a little faster, and not because she felt threatened. What a handsome man! Really, if father chose him as a husband for me I’d have a hard time refusing.

  After a moment she glanced over her shoulder. Vora tugged on her arm, but not before Stara saw that the man was still watching her.

  “Stop it!” the woman muttered. “He’ll take it as an invitation.”

  “An invitation for what?” Stara asked. Was there any way a woman could have a lover here in Sachaka? Probably not after marriage, but she wasn’t married yet...

  “To talk to you,” Vora hissed. She pulled Stara round the next corner.

  “Just talk? What’s wrong with that?”

  Vora gave a short sigh of exasperation, her gaze flicking about at all the people. “I can’t tell you here, mistress. Until you learn who it is safe to talk to, you shouldn’t speak to anyone. You may end up conversing with one of your father’s enemies, or offending one of his allies.”

  “How am I going to learn who it is safe to talk to, when I never meet anybody?”

  “I will tell you the names and families.” Vora frowned and glanced over her shoulder. As she did so, the handsome man stepped out of a stall a few steps ahead of them. He turned and smiled as he saw Stara again. “There is much for you to learn. We will get to—.”

  “Forgive me, but would you be the daughter of Ashaki Sokara?”

  Stara smiled and nodded. “I am.”

  “Then I am honoured to meet you,” the man said. “I am Ashaki Kachiro. My house is next to yours, on the southern side.”

  “Oh, you are our neighbour, then.” She glanced at Vora, who was keeping her eyes to the ground. “I am Stara – and honoured to meet you, too, Ashaki Kachiro.”

  “I see you have not bought anything,” Kachiro said. “Does nothing here please you?”

  “I am merely looking to see what is available. It is interesting to note the products that are hard to find in Capia but plentiful here, and the opposite, as well as the differences in prices.” As she stepped up to a stall he moved aside to let her past, then fell into step beside her. She was amused to find herself flattered by this. I’m getting more attention from him these last few moments than I’ve had from my father since arriving. “Clearly some wares are too prone to spoiling to be a viable market item, but there are some trinkets here I think would sell well in Capia.”

  “You have an interest in trade, then?”

  “Yes. My mother taught me to help her with the Elyne end of Father’s trade.”

  She was sure that did not give away too much. She had kept her and her mother’s involvement vague. If Sachakan men did not like dealing with women, saying that her mother ran part of her father’s business might humiliate him and turn customers off.

  “Can I ask which trinkets you believe would sell?”

  She smiled. “You can ask, but I would be a fool to answer.”

  He chuckled. “I can tell you are no fool.”

  Feeling a tug on her arm, she sobered. To completely ignore Vora’s warnings would be foolish, too.

  “It is lovely to meet you, Ashaki Kachiro; but I must return home now. I hope we will meet again in future.”

  He nodded, looking thoughtful. As she began to turn away, he took a small step towards her.

  “I, too, am about to leave. Since we are neighbours ...I invite you to return with me, in my wagon. It is safer for a woman to travel with company – even in the city – and I would hate to see you come to harm.”

  Stara hesitated. Was it safer to refuse or accept? Would it be rude to turn him down? The chat had been nice, but she wasn’t so susceptible to a good-looking and charming man that she’d jump into his wagon at the first invitation. She glanced at Vora. To her surprise, the woman looked undecided. Then Vora gave a small nod followed by a warning look. Stara turned back to Kachiro.

  “May my slave travel with me?”

  “Of course. And I am sure you will want your wagon to follow.”

  “Then I accept, Ashaki Kachiro.”

  The conversation remained reassuringly comfortable as they strolled out of the market, gave their orders and then settled into his wagon. He was flatteringly interested in her life in Elyne and appeared impressed by her knowledge of trade, and wasn’t coy about his own life and business. She had learned a little about yellowseed crops and the uses for the oil by the time they arrived at the door to her father’s mansion.

  He stopped there, however, and politely escorted her and Vora to their wagon before continuing on to his own house. As the slaves drove them through the gates Stara gave Vora a questioning look.

  “So. Why didn’t he come inside?”

  Vora brow was wrinkled, but she looked only a little worried. “Ashaki Sokara doesn’t like him much, mistress. I don’t know why. He’s not an enemy or an ally.” Her lips thinned. “Expect him to be displeased, though.”

  “What’s he likely to do? Stop me leaving again?”

  “Probably, but he would have anyway.”

  Stara considered that, and how she might convince her father otherwise, as they climbed out and entered the mansion. Had she learned anything from Kachiro that might be of interest to him? She didn’t think so. Unless he needed to know about yellowseed.

  As they neared her rooms she found she was pleasantly tired and looking forward to relaxing for the afternoon.

  “That was just what I needed,” she told Vora. “A change of surroundings, some fresh air, and—” She stopped as she realised someone was standing in her room. Her father. His face was dark with anger.

  “Where have you been?”

  She paused before answering, registering the fury in his voice but catching herself before she could flinch. I am a twenty-five-year-old woman, not a child, she reminded herself.

  “To the market, Father,” she told him. “But there’s no need to fuss. I didn’t buy anything.”

  He looked at Vora. “Leave us now. Stara, you should have sought my permission.”

  “I’m not a child now, Father,” Stara reminded him gently as Vora backed away. “I don’t need anyone holding my hand.”

  “You are a woman,” he snapped. “And this is Sachaka.”

  “Nobody bothered me,” she reassured him. “I took slaves—”

  “Who could not have done anything to protect you,” he interrupted. “You forget: most free men are magicians here.”

  “And lawless savages?” she asked. “Surely there are laws against harming others here. If not, wouldn’t the fear of retaliation from family deter criminals?”

  He stared at her. “Is it true what the slaves tell me: that you let Ashaki Kachiro bring you home?” he asked softly.

  She blinked at the change of topic. “Yes.”

  “You should not have done that.”

  She considered all the excuses she could
give: that Kachiro had wanted to protect her, or that she hadn’t known whether it was correct to refuse or accept, or that the man was their neighbour, or that Vora hadn’t told her not to. Instead she decided to let him reveal what her best defence was by telling her what concerned him most about Kachiro. “Why not?”

  He crossed the room to stand in front of her. Strangely, his gaze focused above her eyes, as if he was looking inside her head.

  “What did you tell him?”

  She shrugged. “A little bit about my life in Elyne. That Mother and I helped with your trade – but not that Mother was in charge. That there were products at the market that would sell well in Elyne, but not which products. That... you’re not even listening, are you?” His gaze was still fixed on her forehead. She shook her head and sighed. “I find a possible source of profit but you’re not even listening.”

  “I have to know what you told him,” he said, more to himself than to her. He reached out and took her head between his hands.

  “Father,” she said, trying to pull his hands away, but his grip only tightened. “Ow! Father—”

  Suddenly all her attention was drawn inward and she became conscious of something inside her mind that didn’t belong there. A sense of him, laced with suspicion, anxiety and anger. At his direction her memories of the day began to play out – every bit of her frustration at his absence, every shred of her worry for her mother, all the information she had gathered at the market, all of Vora’s advice and futile warnings, and, finally, every word between her and Kachiro. Even her attraction to the man.

  He’s reading my mind! I can’t believe he’d do that. Without even asking me if I would let him. Would I, if he asked? Of course not! He’s my father. He’s supposed to trust me. All I did was talk to his neighbour. I don’t deserve to be treated like this!

  He delved deeper, seeking more personal information. Had she ever bedded a man? Had she ever been with child? How had she prevented it? Information that was private, that he had no business seeking.

  She knew at that moment that she would never trust him again. Love shrivelled and was replaced by hate. Respect died in the face of a burning, raging anger. The bond of loyalty that she’d felt all her life, tested again so recently, broke.

  He must have seen it. Felt it. But she sensed no shame or apology. Instead he kept looking, looking, and she knew she had to make him stop. I have to get him out of my mind NOW!

  She reached for magic. He recoiled as he realised what she was doing, letting slip both his control of her mind and his grip on her head. She backed away, and as he reached out to grab her again she knocked his hands back with a slap of power.

  He stared at her, his gaze calculating. She felt a rush of fear as she realised he was deciding whether to try again, this time with magic. It would go badly for her, she knew. He was a fully trained higher magician. She had learned magic as opportunity presented itself, and did not know how to draw power from others, let alone have a reserve of stored strength.

  The fire in his eyes faded. She hoped that meant he had decided not to pursue her thoughts and memories again. Perhaps he hadn’t seen enough to know the extent of her abilities...

  “Your mother should have told me you had learned magic,” he said, his voice laced with disgust and a hint of threat.

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was waiting for the right moment.”

  His expression didn’t soften.

  “You have made yourself next to valueless as a wife and a daughter,” he told her. His face set in a cold, hard expression and, not looking at her, he strode past her towards the door.

  “I learned it for you,” she told him. He paused in the doorway. “Like everything else. Always for you. I thought it would allow me to help you in the trade.”

  Without turning, or speaking, he strode away.

  The silence that he left her in was empty and full of hurt. She felt a loss, deep inside. But at the same time she felt a hard, cold anger growing to fill the void. How dare he! His own daughter! Did he ever love me at all?

  She felt tears fill her eyes, ran to the bed and threw herself on it. But the sobs she expected didn’t come. Instead she hammered the pillows in frustration and anger, remembering his words: “You have made yourself next to valueless as a wife and a daughter.” She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Marrying her off for profit was all that he cared about. In that case, I’ve just delivered the best revenge I could have managed in this stupid country. She didn’t care if nobody wanted to marry her.

  But that was not true. She did dream of finding the right man, who would appreciate her talents and tolerate her flaws. Just as any woman did.

  And if she did not marry, she might be stuck here – locked up in her rooms – for the rest of her life.

  Footsteps echoed in the room. She lifted her head and found Vora approaching. The woman’s expression was calm, but Stara caught hints of both anxiety and concern before the woman prostrated herself. I’m beginning to read her better, she thought. She dropped her head back to the bed.

  “Ah, Vora. I have just experienced the joy of learning I am not just a chattel, but a useless chattel.”

  The bed shifted slightly as Vora sat on the edge of it. “What is useless to one person can be precious to another, mistress.”

  “Is that your way of telling me a husband might turn out to be more loving than my father? It wouldn’t be difficult.”

  “Not exactly, though I wouldn’t object to your taking it that way.” Vora sighed. “So. You have magic.”

  Stara sat up and considered the old slave. “Listening in, were you?”

  Vora smiled faintly. “As always, only for your benefit, mistress.”

  “So you heard what he said. Why does having magic make a Sachakan woman useless as a wife?”

  Vora shrugged. “Men aren’t supposed to like powerful women. The truth is, not all of them are like that. But they must appear not to, in order to gain respect. Remember what I said: we are all slaves.”

  Stara nodded. “If I am useless to him ...I guess I can’t hope that he’ll let me help in the trade now. Do you think he’ll send me back to Elyne?”

  There was a flicker of something in Vora’s eyes. Surely not dismay. “Perhaps. It is too dangerous to do so now, with the border closed and the ichani doing as they please. He might merely reconsider who to marry you to. Hopefully not someone who likes to break a woman’s spirit – just someone who fancies having such a beautiful wife enough to overlook the annoyance of a bit of magical resistance.”

  Stara winced and looked away. “Can’t it be someone I wouldn’t want to resist?”

  “Do you think you can mend things with your father?”

  His own daughter . . . Stara felt anger stir inside again. “Maybe on the surface.”

  “Do...do you know how to kill a man while bedding him?” For a moment Stara could not believe what Vora had just asked. Then she turned to stare at the woman. Vora searched Stara’s eyes, then nodded.

  “I guess not. I believe it is a skill linked to higher magic.” Vora rose and moved towards the door. “I will have some food and wine brought in.”

  As the slave’s footsteps faded, Stara considered what the woman had asked her. So it’s possible to kill someone that way. Trouble is, to do so you’d have to allow yourself to be bedded by someone you hated so much you wanted to kill them. But I guess if someone forced themself on you, you might want to kill them that much.

  She cursed Vora silently. The trouble was, once Stara knew something was possible with magic, she itched to know how to do it. And considering the situation she was in, she had more than just curiosity to fuel her desire to learn this particular skill.

  But who was going to teach her?

  Tessia yawned. For the last week the apprentices’ day had begun early, with a lesson from one or more of the magicians. Usually the lesson began with one teacher, but often the othe
r magicians would emerge from their tents to watch and comment, and this sometimes led to one of them taking over to contribute something that enhanced the original teacher’s lesson, or, in one case, starting an argument.

  “. . . some way of continuing after we deal with the invaders,” a voice said. Tessia resisted the temptation to turn and look at the magicians riding behind her in case it alerted them to the fact that she could hear them.

  “I doubt it. Nobody co-operated to this extent before and I expect we’ll revert to our old suspicions and secretiveness again after.”

  “But it is so much more efficient. I’ve learned new skills. I never realised there were such gaps in my knowledge.”

  “Or mine.” There was a wistful sigh. “If there was a way to sustain...”

  “We will have to find a way. The healers have their guild. I’ve heard it suggested we should start our own, so...”

  As the voices faded Tessia looked at Jayan to see if he’d heard. He was smiling, his eyes bright.

  “Do you think one of the apprentices passed on your idea to their master?” she asked.

  He looked at her and his shoulders straightened. “Maybe.”

  Tessia shrugged. “Perhaps the magicians came to the same conclusion by themselves. They were bound to eventually.”

  He frowned at her reproachfully. “Do you think so?”

  She smiled. “It would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “Besides, they haven’t had the time to think it through.”

  A few nights before, Jayan had told her of his ideas for a guild of magicians, where knowledge was shared and apprentices were taught by all magicians, not only their masters. They would have badges to identify them as members of the guild in the same way that members of the healers’ guild did, to assure customers that they had been well trained.