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

by Trudi Canavan

  “I was not much older than you when I left the Guild,” he said. “I was twenty, and I’d chosen the Warrior Skills discipline out of a hunger for challenge and excitement. But there was no adventure to be found here in the Guild. I had to escape it for a while. So I decided to write a book on ancient magic as an excuse to travel and see the world.”

  She stared at him in surprise. His gaze had become distant, as if he were seeing an old memory rather than the trees around the spring. It seemed he intended to tell her his story.

  “During my research I found some strange references to old magic that intrigued me. Those references led me into Sachaka.” He shook his head. “If I’d kept to the main road, I might have been safe. The occasional Kyralian trader enters Sachaka in search of exotic goods. The King sends diplomats there every few years, in the company of magicians. But Sachaka is a big country, and a secretive one. The Guild knows there are magicians there, but understands little about them.

  “I entered from Elyne, however. Straight into the wastes. I was there for a month before I encountered one of the Ichani. I saw tents and animals and thought to introduce myself to this wealthy and important traveller. He welcomed me warmly enough, and introduced himself as Dakova. I sensed that he was a magician and was intrigued. He pointed at my robes and asked if I was of the Guild. I said I was.”

  Akkarin paused. “I thought that, being one of the strongest magicians of the Guild, I would be able to defend myself against anything. The Sachakans I’d encountered were poor farmers, frightened by visitors. I should have taken that as a warning. When Dakova attacked me I was surprised. I asked if I had offended him, but he didn’t reply. His strikes were incredibly powerful and I barely had time to realize I was going to lose before I neared the end of my strength. I told him that stronger magicians would come looking for me if I did not return to the Guild. That must have worried him. He stopped. I was so exhausted, I could barely stand and I thought that was the reason he managed to read my mind so effectively. For a few days, I thought I’d betrayed the Guild. But later, when I spoke to Dakova’s slaves, I learned that the Ichani were able to get past the mind’s barriers at any time.”

  As he paused, Sonea held her breath. Would he relate to her what it had been like to be a slave? She felt a mingled dread and anticipation.

  Akkarin looked down at the pool below them. “Dakova learned from my mind that the Guild had banned black magic, and was much weaker than the Sachakans believed. He was so amused by what he saw in my mind, he decided that other Ichani had to see it. I was too exhausted to resist. Slaves took my robes and gave me old rags to wear. At first I couldn’t grasp that these people were slaves and that I was now one as well. Then, when I understood, I would not accept it. I tried to escape, but Dakova found me easily. He seemed to enjoy the hunt—and the punishment he dealt out afterward.”

  Akkarin’s eyes narrowed. He turned his head a little toward her and she dropped her eyes, afraid to meet them.

  “I was appalled by my situation,” he continued quietly. “Dakova called me his ‘pet Guild magician.’ I was a trophy, kept to entertain his guests. Keeping me was a risk, though. Unlike his other slaves, I was a trained magician. So every night he read my mind and, to keep me from becoming dangerous, took from me the strength I had regained that day.”

  Akkarin pulled up a sleeve. Hundreds of thin, shiny lines covered his arm. Scars. Sonea felt a chill run down her spine. This evidence of his past had been in front of her so many times, hidden by a mere layer of cloth.

  “The rest of his slaves were made up of those he had taken from Ichani he had fought and defeated, and young men and women with latent magical potential that he had found among the Sachakan farmers and miners in the region. Every day he would take magical strength from them. He was powerful, but also strangely isolated. I eventually understood that Dakova, and the other Ichani that live in the wastes, were outcasts. For one reason or another—failed involvement in plots, inability to pay bribes or taxes or committing crimes—they had fallen out of favor with the Sachakan King. He had ordered them confined to the wastes, and forbidden others to contact them.

  “You might think they would band together in this situation, but they nursed too much resentment and ambition for that. They constantly plotted against each other, hoping to increase their wealth and strength or take revenge for past insults, or simply steal supplies of food. An outcast Ichani can only feed so many slaves. The wastes yield little food, and terrorizing and killing farmers certainly doesn’t help increase productivity.”

  He paused then to take a deep breath. “The woman who explained everything to me at the beginning was a strong potential magician. She might have been a powerful Healer if she had been born Kyralian. Instead, Dakova kept her as a bed slave.” Akkarin grimaced.

  “Dakova attacked another Ichani one day, and found himself losing. In desperation, he took all the strength of each of his slaves, killing them. He left the strongest of us to last, and managed to overcome his adversary before killing us all. Only myself and Takan survived.”

  Sonea blinked. Takan? Akkarin’s servant?

  “Dakova was vulnerable for several weeks while he recovered the strength he’d lost,” Akkarin continued. “He was less worried that another would take advantage of this than he might have been, however. All Ichani knew he had a brother, Kariko. The pair had made it known that if one should be killed, the other would avenge his death. No Ichani in the wastes could defeat one of the brothers and regain their strength in time to survive an attack by the other. Soon after Dakova’s near defeat, Kariko arrived and gave Dakova several slaves to help him regain his strength.

  “Most of the slaves I encountered dreamed that Dakova or one of his enemies would release their powers and teach them how to use black magic, so they could be free. They would look at me with envy; I had only to learn black magic to be able to escape. They didn’t know that the Guild forbade black magic.

  “But as I witnessed what Dakova was capable of, I cared less about what the Guild did and didn’t allow. He did not need black magic to perform evil. I saw him do things with his bare hands that I will never forget.”

  Akkarin’s gaze was haunted. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they were hard and cold.

  “For five years I was trapped in Sachaka. Then one day, not long after receiving his brother’s gift of new slaves, Dakova heard that an Ichani he despised was hiding in a mine after exhausting himself in a fight. He decided that he would find and kill this man.

  “When Dakova arrived, the mine appeared to be deserted. He, myself and the other slaves entered the tunnels in search of his enemy. After several hundred paces the floor collapsed under me. I felt myself caught by magic and set down on a hard surface.”

  Akkarin smiled grimly. “I had been saved by another Ichani. I thought he would kill me or take me as his own. Instead, he took me through the tunnels to a small hidden room. There, he made me an offer. He would teach me black magic if I would return to Dakova and kill him.

  “I saw that it was an arrangement that would probably end in my death. I would fail and die, or succeed and be hunted down by Kariko. By then I cared little for my life, or for the Guild’s ban on black magic, so I agreed.

  “Dakova had been gathering strength over many weeks. I might know the secret of black magic, but I had no time to grow strong. The man understood this and told me what I must do.

  “I did as the Ichani instructed. Returning to Dakova I told him I had been knocked unconscious in the fall, but had found a storeroom full of food and treasures on my way out. Though annoyed that his enemy had evaded him, Dakova was pleased at this find. He left me and the other slaves to cart the bounty out of the mines to his tent. I was relieved. If Dakova sensed even the slightest surface thought of betrayal, he would read my mind and discover the plot. I sent a slave out with a box of Elyne wine. The dust coating the bottles reassured Dakova that they hadn’t been tampered with, and he began drinking. They w
ere laced with myk, a drug that confuses the mind and distorts the senses. When I left the mine, he was lying in a dreamlike state.”

  Akkarin fell silent. He stared out into the trees, his gaze fixed on some distant place. As the silence lengthened, Sonea began to worry that he would not go on. Tell me, she thought. You can’t stop now!

  Akkarin drew in a deep breath and sighed. He looked down at the stony ground, his expression bleak. “I did a terrible thing, then. I killed all Dakova’s new slaves. I needed their strength. I could not bear to kill Takan. Not because we had been friends, but because he had been there since the beginning and we had got into the habit of helping each other out.

  “Dakova was too addled by the drug and the wine to notice much. He woke as I cut him, but once the draining of power begins, it is almost impossible to use your powers.”

  Akkarin’s voice was low and quiet. “Though I was now stronger than I had ever imagined I could be, I knew Kariko was not far away. He would try to contact Dakova soon, and then come looking for an explanation for his brother’s silence. All I could think of was leaving Sachaka. I didn’t even think to take food. I didn’t expect to live. After a day I realized Takan was following me. He had packed a bag full of supplies. I told him to leave me, or Kariko would kill him too, but he insisted on staying—and on treating me like an Ichani master. We walked for weeks, though sometimes in the mountains it seemed like we had spent more time climbing than walking. Finally, we found ourselves in the foothills of the Steelbelt Ranges. I realized I had evaded Kariko and made it home.”

  For the first time, Akkarin looked up to meet her eyes. “All I could think of was returning to the safety of the Guild. I wanted to forget everything, and vowed never to use black magic again. Takan wouldn’t leave me, but by making him my servant I felt as if I had freed him as best I could.” He looked toward the Guild buildings hidden behind the trees. “I was greeted warmly and welcomed back. When asked where I had disappeared to, I related my experiences in the allied countries, then made up a story of retreating to the mountains to study in solitude.

  “Then, soon after my return, the High Lord died. Custom dictated that the strongest magician take the position. I never considered I might be a candidate. I was only twenty-five, after all. But I had accidentally allowed Lord Balkan to sense my strength. I was surprised when he proposed that I be considered, and amazed at how much support the idea had. It is interesting what people will overlook when they desperately want to avoid electing a man they don’t like.”

  Intrigued, Sonea opened her mouth to ask who, but Akkarin continued.

  “Balkan said that my travels had matured me, and I had experience in dealing with other cultures.” Akkarin snorted softly. “If he had known the truth, he might not have been so insistent. While the idea seemed absurd, I began to see possibilities in it. I needed to distract myself from the memories of the previous five years. And I had begun to worry about the Ichani. Dakova and his brother had talked many times of how easy it would be to invade Kyralia. Though Kariko was alone now, and would probably never get the other Ichani to join him, an invasion was not impossible. What if he regained the favor of the King and convinced him to invade? I decided I needed to keep an eye on the Sachakans, and it would be easier to do that if I had the resources of a High Lord. And it was not difficult to convince the Guild to elect me, once I let them test my strength.

  “After a few years I heard about murders in the city that sounded suspiciously like black magic. I investigated and found the first spy. From him I learned that Kariko had been stirring up the other Ichani with ideas of plundering Imardin, taking revenge for the Sachakan War, and forcing the Sachakan King to accept them again. He first had to convince them that the Guild does not use black magic. I have been convincing them otherwise ever since.” He smiled, then turned to face her. “You are a good listener, Sonea. You did not interrupt me once. You must have some questions, now.”

  She nodded slowly. Where to start? She considered the questions that crowded her mind.

  “Why didn’t you tell the Guild about the Ichani?”

  Akkarin’s brows rose. “Do you think they would have believed me?”

  “Lorlen might.”

  He looked away. “I am not sure of that.”

  She thought of Lorlen’s outrage when he had seen her memory of Akkarin performing black magic. When Akkarin had read her mind, he would have seen that outrage. She felt a pang of sympathy. It must have hurt to have their friendship spoiled by a secret he dare not tell.

  “I think Lorlen would believe you,” she said. “If he didn’t, you could let him perform a truth-read.” She winced as she said it. After all that mind-reading from Dakova, Akkarin probably never wanted another person probing his memories again.

  He shook his head. “I can’t risk that. Anyone reading my mind could easily learn the secret of black magic. That is why I stopped your mind-read of Tavaka last night.”

  “Then…the Guild could send several magicians to Sachaka to confirm your story.”

  “If they entered in large numbers and started asking dangerous questions, they would be considered a threat. It might start the very conflict we fear. Remember, too, that I knew there was no immediate threat from Sachaka when I first arrived here. I was so relieved to be home, and there seemed no sense in revealing that I’d broken the magicians’ vow unless I had to.”

  “But now there is a threat.”

  His gaze flickered. “Not until Kariko convinces the other Ichani to join him.”

  “But the sooner the Guild knows, the better prepared it would be.”

  Akkarin’s expression hardened. “I am the only one capable of confronting these spies. Do you think the Guild will allow me to continue as High Lord if it knows I have learned black magic? If I told them now, they would lose all of the trust they have in me. Their fear would blind them to the real threat. Until I have found a way for them to fight these Ichani without black magic, it is better they know nothing.”

  She nodded, though she could not believe the Guild would punish him once they heard what he had just told her.

  “Is there another way?”

  “I have not found one yet.”

  “So what will you do?”

  “Continue hunting spies. My allies in the Thieves are proving more effective than those I previously hired to locate them.”

  “The Thieves.” Sonea smiled. “I thought so. How long have you been working with them?”

  “About two years.”

  “How much do they know?”

  “Only that they are hunting rogue magicians with a nasty habit of killing people, and that these rogues all happen to come from Sachaka. They locate them, inform me, and get rid of the bodies.”

  A memory flashed through her mind of Tavaka, pleading for his life. Promising to be good, while intending to kill as many Kyralians as he could so he might return to Sachaka and join the Ichani. If it weren’t for Akkarin, Tavaka would be doing just that right now.

  She frowned. So much depended on Akkarin. What if he died? Who would stop the spies then? Only Takan and she would know what was really going on, but neither of them knew black magic. Neither could do anything to stop the Ichani.

  She froze as the implication of that rushed over her like icy water.

  “Why did you tell me this?”

  He smiled grimly. “Somebody else needs to know.”

  “But why me?”

  “You knew much already.”

  She paused. “Then…can we tell Rothen? I know he’d keep quiet if he understood the threat.”

  He frowned. “No. Not unless we must reveal everything to the Guild.”

  “But he still believes that I…What if he tries to do something? About me.”

  “Oh, I’m watching Rothen closely.”

  In the distance a gong rang. Akkarin pushed himself to his feet. The hem of his black robes brushed across her hand. Sonea looked up at him and felt a strange mixture of fear and respect. He h
ad killed many times. He had learned and used the darkest magic. Yet he had done it to escape slavery, and to keep the Guild safe. And nobody but she and Takan knew.

  Akkarin crossed his arms and smiled. “Go back to your lessons now, Sonea. My favorite does not skip classes.”

  Sonea dropped her eyes and nodded.

  “Yes, High Lord.”

  8

  Contemplating a Crime

  The corridor of the University echoed with the voices of the novices. The two who followed Rothen, carrying boxes of the chemistry tools and substances used in the previous class, were having a fascinating conversation in low voices. They had observed a girl watching them at the horse races last Freeday, and they couldn’t decide which one she might be interested in.

  Rothen was having a hard time keeping a straight face. But his mood darkened as a slight figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Sonea’s expression was tight with annoyance. A large stack of heavy books filled her arms. She turned into the side passage that led to the Novices’ Library.

  The boys behind Rothen stopped talking and hummed with sympathy.

  “Guess she asked for it,” one said. “Got to admire her guts, though. I wouldn’t dare skip classes if he was my guardian.”

  Rothen glanced behind.

  “Who skipped classes?”

  The boy flushed as he realized he’d been overheard. “Sonea,” he said.

  “The High Lord punished her with a week’s work in the library,” the other boy added.

  Rothen couldn’t help smiling. “She’d like that.”

  “Oh, no. The Magicians’ Library. Lord Jullen makes sure punishment really is punishment.”