When she had thought her way through the process a few times, deciding what to move first, she set to work.
It was a slow process. As she pinched and squeezed and nudged, she wondered what the magicians and healers watching her were thinking. Did they think she was taking a long time, for the simple task of blocking pain? Could they see any of the change she was making? Or had they grown bored and left? After all, the much anticipated and very late meal they were all waiting for must be cooked by now.
Finally everything was back in place. She noticed that Refan’s body was now applying magic to healing him in much more effective ways. He’s going to survive, she realised. He might not even be crippled. A thrill of pride ran through her, and she immediately suppressed it. This still may not work. It’s the first time I’ve done it – maybe the first time anyone has – and I can’t know the full outcome. And besides, it will still take days or weeks for him to heal properly and he’s still going to be a burden to the army.
After one last check, and pinching the pain pathway one more time to delay what would be an unpleasant revival despite her efforts, she drew her consciousness back into herself and opened her eyes.
Looking around, she saw that all the magicians were still there. And the healers. They were staring at her, some frowning in puzzlement. Then Refan groaned and all attention returned to him.
“What...what happened?” he said. “Pain’s gone... but I still can’t feel my legs.”
“You will soon,” Tessia told him. “And you’re not going to like it.” She looked up at Lord Dakon. “His back wasn’t broken, but it was all out of place and the pathways were being squashed.”
He smiled, his eyes shining. “Will he recover?”
“If he has the time to.” She grimaced. “If he has the time to, he’ll even walk again.”
His expression became grim, and his eyes shifted to Lord Werrin. The king’s magician frowned and nodded. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”
That appeared to be a signal for the onlookers to leave. Tessia beckoned to some servants standing nearby and instructed them to get a long board of wood, then slide Refan onto it, still face-down and without flexing his back too much, so they could carry him somewhere sheltered. As they hurried away, Dakon and Jayan moved closer.
“That was well done. Very impressive,” Dakon said.
“Thank you.” She felt heat come to her face and pushed away another surge of pride.
Dakon looked at Jayan. “I’ve been proud to be the master of both of my apprentices tonight,” he said, smiling broadly. Jayan looked doubtful, Tessia noticed. “Both of you are far too clever for a humble country magician like me.”
She voiced a protest and heard Jayan do the same.
“Ah, but it is true,” Dakon said. “That’s why I have decided that, as soon as we get the chance, I am going to teach Jayan higher magic and send him off into the world as his own master.”
Tessia smothered a laugh at Jayan’s open-mouthed astonishment. I was right. Clearly he didn’t believe me.
Then she felt an unexpected pang of sadness. I think I may actually miss him. Then she wrinkled her nose. For a few hours, anyway. Then I’ll realise nobody has said anything annoying to me in a while and I’ll realise how nice it is to be rid of him.
The wagon rolled slowly through Arvice. Kachiro had ordered the flaps to be tied open so Stara could enjoy the scenery. Warm spring air lingered as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Flowers covered the trees that lined the larger, main roads of the city, and the air was sweet with their scent. Insects also abounded – in swarms that darkened the air as they passed and set slaves to slapping themselves – but at the wagon openings they vanished in a sizzle and spark of light as they encountered Kachiro’s magical barriers.
The barriers only protected those inside the wagon. Stara thought of Vora clinging to the back. It must be hard and unpleasant for the old woman to ride that way, her hands gripping handholds and her legs braced on the narrow foot ledge.
Stara had suggested Vora stay behind, but the slave had shaken her head. “This is your first experience of Sachakan society outside your father’s house,” she’d said. “You’ll need my guidance.”
“Here we are,” Kachiro said. The wagon slowed as it neared a pair of impressive double gates standing open to allow passage. He turned to look at her, smiling as his eyes travelled from her shoes to her headdress. “You look wonderful,” he told her, and she could detect nothing but honest admiration. “As always, an excellent combination of cloth and decoration. I am lucky to have a wife with not just beauty, but good taste.”
Stara smiled. “Thank you. I am lucky to have a husband who appreciates such things.” She met his gaze, knowing she could not hide the fact that his compliment filled her mind with doubts and questions.
“I do,” he said. Then he looked down for a moment. “I would also appreciate it if you did not mention...my difficulty, to the wives,” he added in a murmur.
“Of course not!” she replied quickly. “It is our secret.”
He smiled. “My friends’ wives love a good secret,” he warned her.
“Not this one,” she assured him.
“Thank you.” The wagon was now turning through the open gates into a large courtyard abuzz with slaves. Kachiro helped her climb down to the ground, then turned to the slaves waiting nearby, who had prostrated themselves. “We’re here to join Master Motara in celebrating his birthing day. Take us to the gathering place.”
One of the slaves rose. “It is this way,” he said.
They headed inside, Vora and one of Kachiro’s slaves following. Stara recognised the restrained decoration and beautiful furniture immediately. As she slowed to admire a long cabinet full of drawers of different sizes, Kachiro chuckled.
“Of course, Motara keeps all his best pieces. I’ve tried to persuade him to sell that one to me many times. He won’t even risk it when gambling.”
“So Master Motara is your friend who designs the furniture?”
“Yes.”
“I must compliment him on it, then.”
Kachiro looked surprised, then thoughtful. “He would like that. Yes – do it. Women do not usually take an interest in such things. At least, not when they are around men.”
Stara frowned. “Should I say nothing? Would it offend him more to voice an opinion?” She felt a moment’s disbelief that she was asking this. Since when had she cared whether anyone wanted her opinion or not?
“He won’t be offended. Only surprised,” he assured her. Then he gave her that admiring smile that was so infuriatingly puzzling. “I am liking your unconventionality more and more, Stara. It is refreshing. Women are too secretive and reserved. They should be more like you, open and interested in things.”
“I can also be stubborn and nosy. You might not like that sort of unconventionality.”
He laughed. “For now, I choose to believe that is the price I paid for marrying a woman who is not only beautiful, but clever too.”
Stara felt her heart flip over. Then she felt herself begin to scowl and forced herself to look down to hide her expression, hoping he thought her embarrassed by the compliment. There would be no harm in falling in love with Kachiro, she thought. But it would be very, very annoying. And frustrating. But then, I might not mind his “difficulty” if I were in love with him. If the romantic tales are right.
The slave stopped at the entrance to a large room and stepped aside, his head bowed. Kachiro led Stara past him, then took her arm. Five men turned to look at them. All had the broad shoulders and wide face of the typical Sachakan male, but one was fat, another was skinny, and one had dark pigmentation under his eyes. They ranged in age from not long past youthful boyhood to middle age. The skinny one rose and stepped forward.