Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 03] - The High Lord

  Is she now? Lorlen wondered.

  —No.

  Lorlen looked from Akkarin to Sonea. He recalled the way she had obeyed Akkarin’s every word when they were arrested in the underground room. He remembered her expression as she had joined Akkarin in the Entrance Hall. Something had changed her opinion of Akkarin. He felt a stab of impatience.

  Lorlen raised his hand again. The magicians quietened reluctantly. He looked at Rothen.

  “Do you have anything more to tell us, Lord Rothen?”

  “No, Administrator.”

  Lorlen looked up at the hall. “Has anyone any further evidence to offer this Hearing?” When no answer came he looked down at Akkarin.

  “Akkarin of House Velan, will you answer our questions truthfully?”

  The corner of Akkarin’s mouth twitched. “I will.”

  “Then swear it.”

  Akkarin looked up above Lorlen’s head, then dropped to one knee.

  “I swear that all I speak in this Hearing will be the truth.”

  The Guildhall was utterly silent. As Akkarin rose to his feet, Lorlen turned his attention to Sonea.

  “Sonea, will you answer our questions truthfully?”

  Her eyes widened. “I will.”

  She dropped to one knee and spoke the oath. When she had risen to her feet again, Lorlen considered all the questions he wanted to ask. Begin with the accusations, he decided.

  “Akkarin,” he turned to face his former friend. “Did you kill Lord Jolen?”

  “No.”

  “Have you studied and practiced black magic?”

  “Yes.”

  A murmur rose in the hall and quickly subsided.

  “How long have you been studying and practicing black magic?”

  The slightest frown passed over Akkarin’s face.

  “The first time…was eight years ago, before I returned to the Guild.”

  A momentary silence followed that revelation, and then the hall filled with the buzz of speculation.

  “Did you teach yourself, or did another teach you?”

  “I learned from another magician.”

  “Who was this magician?”

  “I did not learn his name. I know only that he was Sachakan.”

  “So he was not of the Guild.”

  “No.”

  Sachakan? Lorlen swallowed as foreboding began to grow in the pit of his stomach.

  “Explain to us how you came to learn black magic from a Sachakan magician.”

  Akkarin smiled. “I was wondering if you would ever get around to asking.”

  17

  The Terrible Truth

  Sonea closed her eyes as Akkarin began his story. He spoke briefly of his quest to find ancient magical knowledge, and how what he had unearthed led him to enter Sachaka. There was a self-mocking tone to his voice, as if he thought that young man he had been was a fool.

  Then he described his encounter with the Ichani, Dakova. Though she had heard him recount this before, she had been too caught up in what he was telling her to notice the slight hint of remembered dismay and horror in his voice. Then bitterness crept in as he related the years he had been a slave, and the cruel ways of the Ichani.

  She realized he had probably never told anyone about that time in his life until the day he had related the story to her beside the spring. He had hidden that part of his life for years, and not just because it revealed that he had learned and used black magic. It pained and humiliated him to recount what he had seen and endured.

  Opening her eyes, she almost expected to see some of that pain in his face, but though his expression was serious, no emotion showed.

  To the magicians in the hall, he appeared to be calm and in control. They probably didn’t notice the tension in his voice. Neither would she have a few months ago. Somehow she had grown so familiar with his manner that she could see a little of what lay underneath.

  She heard regret in his voice as he told of the Ichani who had offered to teach him black magic so he might murder his master. He explained that he did not expect to survive; that, even if he managed to kill Dakova, the Ichani’s brother, Kariko, would hunt him down in revenge. He spoke of killing the other slaves, and then Dakova, with cold simplicity. Then he described his long journey home in a few short sentences.

  His voice softened a little as he spoke of his relief at reaching the Guild, and how he had only wanted to forget Sachaka and black magic. He told how he had accepted the role of High Lord to keep himself busy, and so he could more easily keep an eye on the Ichani. He paused then, and the hall was utterly silent.

  “Two years after my election I heard rumors of strange, ritual murders in the city,” he said. “The Guard said the victims were marked in a certain way to indicate that they had been punished by the Thieves. I knew better.

  “I followed the cases closely, and disguised myself so I could enter the slums, where the murders had taken place, to question and listen. When I found the murderer, he was exactly what I had suspected: a Sachakan black magician.

  “Fortunately, he was weak and easily subdued. From his mind I read that he was a slave, freed and taught black magic in exchange for undertaking a dangerous mission. Kariko had sent him to gauge the strength of the Guild and, if the opportunity arose, assassinate me.

  “Dakova had told Kariko much of what he had learned from me, including that the Guild had banned black magic and was much weaker than it had once been. But Kariko dared not attack the Guild alone. He needed to convince others to join him. If he could prove that the Guild was as weak as his brother had claimed, he would easily find allies among the Ichani.”

  Akkarin looked up. Following his gaze, Sonea saw he was looking at the King. The monarch watched Akkarin intently. Sonea felt a spark of hope. Even if the King did not completely believe Akkarin’s story, surely he would feel it prudent to check. He might allow Akkarin to live and stay at the Guild until…

  The King’s gaze suddenly shifted to hers. She found herself staring into a pair of unwavering green eyes. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to hold that gaze. It is true, she thought at him. Believe him.

  “What did you do with this slave you found in the city?” Lorlen asked.

  Sonea looked back down at the Administrator, then at Akkarin.

  “I could not set him free to continue preying upon the people of Imardin,” Akkarin said. “Nor could I bring him to the Guild. He would relay everything he saw, including our weaknesses, to Kariko. I had no choice but to kill him.”

  Lorlen’s eyebrows rose. Before he could ask further questions, Akkarin continued, his tone dark with warning.

  “In the last five years I have tracked down and killed nine of these spies. Through them I have seen Kariko’s attempts at uniting the Ichani fail twice. This time, I fear, he will succeed.” Akkarin’s eyes narrowed. “The last spy he sent was no slave. She was Ichani, and had no doubt read Lord Jolen’s mind and learned all that I hoped to prevent the Sachakans from discovering. If she had made Jolen’s death look natural, and left his family and servants alive, none of us would have thought to question it, I might not have realized the Ichani knew the truth about the Guild. Instead, by trying to make it look as though I killed him she has forced me to reveal the existence of the Ichani to you.” He shook his head. “I only wish that was to your advantage.”

  “So you believe this Ichani woman murdered Lord Jolen?”

  “Yes.”

  “And these spies are the reason why you started practicing black magic again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us of this five years ago?”

  “The threat was not great then. I hoped that, by killing off the spies, I might eventually convince the other Ichani that the Guild was not as weak as Kariko claimed. Or Kariko might eventually give up trying to gain their support. Or one of the Ichani might kill him; he did not have his brother’s protection any more.”

  “Yet you should have let us decide that.”


  “It was too great a risk,” Akkarin replied. “If I was publicly accused of using black magic, the Ichani would learn of it and know Kariko was right. If I managed to convince you of the truth, you might decide that learning black magic yourselves was the only way to protect Kyralia. I would not have that on my conscience.”

  The Higher Magicians exchanged glances. Lorlen looked thoughtful.

  “You have used black magic to strengthen yourself, so that you could fight these spies, and this Ichani woman,” he said slowly.

  “Yes.” Akkarin nodded. “But it was strength given willingly, by my servant and lately by Sonea.”

  Sonea heard indrawn breaths. “You used black magic on Sonea?” Lady Vinara gasped.

  “No.” Akkarin smiled. “There was no need. She is a magician, and can give her strength to another in more conventional ways.”

  Lorlen frowned and glanced at Sonea. “How much did Sonea know of all this before today?”

  “All,” Akkarin replied. “She had, as Lord Rothen pointed out, accidentally discovered more than she should have, and I had to take steps to ensure she and her former guardian remained silent. I recently decided to allow her to know the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “I realized that someone should know of the Ichani threat other than myself.”

  Lorlen’s eyes narrowed. “So you chose a novice? Not a magician, or one of the Higher Magicians?”

  “Yes. She is strong, and her knowledge of the slums has proved useful.”

  “How did you convince her?”

  “I took her to see one of the spies, then taught her to read his mind. She saw more than enough there to know that what I told her of my own experiences in Sachaka was true.”

  Murmuring filled the hall as the implications of that sank in. The eyes of the Higher Magicians turned to Sonea. She felt her face warming and looked away.

  “You told me that you couldn’t teach another that skill,” Lorlen said quietly. “You lied.”

  “No, I didn’t lie.” Akkarin smiled. “I couldn’t teach another, at the time, or you would have realized it had been taught to me, and asked where I had learned it.”

  Lorlen frowned. “What else have you taught Sonea?”

  At the question, Sonea felt her blood turn to ice.

  Akkarin hesitated. “I have given her certain books to read, so that she might better understand our enemy.”

  “The books from the chest? Where did you get them?”

  “I found them in the passages under the University. They were placed there by the Guild after black magic was banned, in case such knowledge was needed again. I’m sure you have read enough of them to know this is true.”

  Lorlen glanced back at Lord Sarrin.

  The old Alchemist nodded. “It is true, according to the records I found in the chest. I have studied them carefully and they do appear to be genuine. They relate how, before the Guild banned black magic five centuries ago, its use was common. Magicians kept apprentices, who gave them power in exchange for knowledge. One of these apprentices killed his master and massacred thousands in an attempt to rule the land for himself. After he died, the Guild banned black magic.”

  The hall filled with murmuring voices that quickly rose into a clamor. Listening carefully, Sonea heard snatches of conversation.

  “How are we to know if any of his story is true?”

  “Why haven’t we heard of these Ichani?”

  Lorlen lifted both arms and called for quiet. The noise subsided.

  “Do the Higher Magicians have any questions for Akkarin?”

  “Yes,” Balkan rumbled. “How many of these outcast magicians are there?”

  “Somewhere between ten and twenty,” Akkarin replied. A scattering of laughter followed. “Every day they take power from their slaves, who have strong magical potential equal to any of us. Imagine a black magician with ten slaves. If he took power from half of them every few days, he would be hundreds of times stronger than a Guild magician within weeks.”

  Silence followed his words.

  “Yet, that power diminishes as it is used,” Balkan said. “After battle, a black magician is weaker.”

  “Yes,” Akkarin answered.

  Balkan looked thoughtful. “A smart attacker would kill the slaves first.”

  “Why haven’t we heard of these Ichani before?” Administrator Kito’s voice echoed through the hall. “Merchants travel into Sachaka every year. They have occasionally reported meeting magicians in Arvice, but not black magicians.”

  “The Ichani are outcasts. They live in the wastes and are not spoken of publicly in Arvice,” Akkarin replied. “The court of Arvice is a dangerous political battlefield. Sachakan magicians do not allow others to know the limits of their skills and power. They are not going to allow Kyralian merchants and ambassadors to discover what they keep from their own countrymen.”

  “Why do these Ichani want to invade Kyralia?” Balkan asked.

  Akkarin shrugged. “Many reasons. The main one, I suspect, is to escape the wastes and regain status and power in Arvice, but I know some desire to take revenge for the Sachakan War.”

  Balkan frowned. “An expedition to Arvice would confirm the truth of this.”

  “Anyone recognizable as a Guild magician will be killed if they approached the Ichani,” Akkarin warned. “And I suspect few in Arvice would be aware of Kariko’s ambitions.”

  “How else will we confirm the truth?” Vinara said. “Will you submit to a truth-read?”

  “No.”

  “That hardly inspires us to trust you.”

  “The reader may learn the secret of black magic from my mind,” Akkarin added. “I will not risk that.”

  Vinara’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Sonea. “Perhaps Sonea then?”

  “No.”

  “She has learned black magic, too?”

  “No,” he replied, “but I have trusted her with information that should not be shared, unless in the greatest need.”

  Sonea’s heart was pounding. She looked at the floor. He had lied about her.

  “Is Rothen’s story true?” Vinara asked.

  “It is.”

  “You admit to claiming her guardianship merely to force Rothen and Sonea to remain silent?”

  “No, I also claimed Sonea’s guardianship because she has great potential. A potential that was being shamefully neglected. I’ve found her to be nothing less than honest, hardworking and exceptionally gifted.”

  Sonea looked up at him in surprise. She felt a sudden mad urge to grin, but managed to control it.

  Then she went cold as she suddenly understood what he was doing.

  He was convincing them to keep her within the Guild by telling them she had skills and information that they might need. Even if they didn’t believe him, they might take pity on her. She had been his hostage. She had been deceived into helping him. The Guild might even pardon her. She had, after all, only read a few books, and then only at the instigation of Akkarin.

  She frowned. This made Akkarin look worse, however. And he was encouraging them to see things that way. Since she had first learned of the Ichani, she had nursed the hope that the Guild, if it learned the truth, would pardon him. But now she wondered if Akkarin had ever considered that a possibility.

  If he wasn’t hoping to be pardoned, what was he planning? Surely he didn’t mean to let them execute him?

  No, if it came to that, he would fight his way out and escape. Would he make it?

  She considered, again, how much of his power the fight with the Ichani woman must have used. Her heart began to race as she realized he could easily be too weak to escape the Guild.

  Unless she gave him all her strength, including that which she had taken from the Ichani woman.

  All she had to do was touch him and send him the power. The warriors surrounding them would try to stop her. She would have to fight them.

  When they did, however, they would realize that she was using more power than she oug
ht to possess.

  And then they would not be at all inclined to pardon her.

  So the only way she could save Akkarin was to reveal her own use of black magic.

  “Sonea.”

  She looked up to find Lorlen regarding her intently.

  “Yes, Administrator.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Did Akkarin teach you how to read an unwilling mind?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are sure what you saw in the spy’s mind was true?”

  “I am sure.”

  “Where were you on the night Lord Jolen died?”

  “I was with the High Lord.”

  Lorlen frowned. “What were you doing?”

  Sonea hesitated. Now was the time to reveal herself. But Akkarin might have a reason for wanting her not to.

  He wants someone who knows the truth to remain in the Guild.

  What use will I be, though, with him dead? Better that we escape together. If the Guild needs our help, they can contact us through Lorlen’s blood ring.

  “Sonea?”

  One thing I am sure of. I can’t let them kill Akkarin.

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to meet Lorlen’s.

  “He was teaching me black magic.”

  Gasps and exclamations filled the hall. In the edge of her vision she saw Akkarin turn to stare at her, but she kept her eyes on Lorlen. Her heart was pounding, and she felt sick, but she forced herself to continue. “I asked him to teach me. He refused at first. It was only after he had been injured by the Ichani spy that I—”

  “You learned black magic willingly?” Vinara exclaimed.

  Sonea nodded. “Yes, my lady. When the High Lord was injured, I realized there would be nobody with the ability to continue fighting if he died.”

  Lorlen glanced at Akkarin. “Now there won’t be.”

  His words sent a chill down her spine. Clearly Lorlen had understood what Akkarin had been trying to do. Knowing that she had been right in her suspicions gave her only a bitter satisfaction.