“Healer Veran,” Tessia replied.
The two men frowned thoughtfully. “I have not heard of him,” the other healer said.
“You wouldn’t have,” Tessia told him. “He did not study here, though he has visited from time to time. His grandfather was a member of the guild. His name was Healer Berin, though he worked here so long ago I imagine you wouldn’t—”
The two men’s mouths had opened in identical circles.
“Ahh,” they both said.
Healer Orran chuckled. “Now the pieces fall into place. Good old Healer Berin. Stirred up the guild then vanished to the country.”
“We owe your grandfather a small debt for questioning our over-reliance on the star code and steering us back towards rational observation,” the other healer said. “Berin’s granddaughter, eh?” His gaze slid over Tessia’s shoulder and his eyes brightened. “Ah! Here is our corpse!”
Tessia turned to see a stretcher being carried in, a pale figure lying upon it. She felt a thrill of excitement. Most of the corpses she had seen had been of old people. This was a young male, the pale skin of his chest marred with a wound.
“Have you seen a dissection before, Apprentice Tessia?” Healer Orran asked.
“No, but I have seen a few corpses, and more of the inside of a body than most people do,” she replied. “This should be very interesting,” she added quietly.
She heard Kendaria chuckle.
“Well then,” Healer Orran said. “You had better find yourselves some seats. Most are taken, and you won’t want to sit up at the back or you might become giddy. You there!” He waved an arm at two young men sitting in the front row. “Find your manners and make space for the ladies.”
There was laughter all around as the two young men grumbled and left their seats, resignedly moving up to the back of the staircase. Kendaria smiled and winked at Tessia as they sat down.
“I think he likes you. Any time you want to see a dissection, let me know.”
Cloth sheets were brought into the room and handed to those sitting in the front row. Kendaria showed Tessia how to drape hers across her shoulders and over her knees.
“Sometimes there’s a bit of splatter,” she whispered.
The corpse was half lifted, half rolled from the stretcher onto the table. Healer Orran moved to the collection of tools, then looked up at the crowd.
“Today we will be examining the heart and lungs...”
As he explained the purpose of the dissection and told the audience what to look for, Tessia sighed happily. Father would have loved this. What will he say when he hears I was here? And he won’t believe that grandfather is now remembered with gratitude! Then she sobered. Will there be anything I can tell him that will be useful to him? I wonder...I had better pay close attention.
From his pallet in the stable loft, Hanara could see the signal light. For three nights now it had appeared, slowly flickering dimmer and brighter in a pattern all slaves were taught to read. Each time it shone from a different location, so that if anyone in the village did notice and looked for the light in the same place the following night, they would not see it. Each time it pulsed the same message.
Report. Report.
Every waking moment since first seeing it – and there had been far too many waking moments and not enough sleeping ones – Hanara had been sick with fear. There was only one person in the village that message could be for: himself. And only one person who would expect Hanara to report to him: Takado.
So far Hanara hadn’t obeyed. For three nights he had curled up on the pallet, unable to sleep until exhaustion claimed him, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen the signal or didn’t know what to make of it.
But I have seen it and I do know. When Takado reads my mind he’ll know I disobeyed him.
He was not Takado’s to order about any more, he reminded himself. He was a free man. He served Lord Dakon now.
But Lord Dakon isn’t here. He can’t stop Takado coming to get me. It was possible Takado would conclude that the lack of response to his signal meant that Hanara had, indeed, been freed. Or had left the village. He might give up and leave.
Hanara almost laughed aloud.
What will he do, really? he asked himself.
Takado did not like to waste magic, so he would try to avoid conflict. He’d enter the village with the intention of asking Lord Dakon to give Hanara back to him.
Lord Dakon would say that the choice was Hanara’s to make. It was too easy to imagine that moment. Takado would then look at Hanara. So would Lord Dakon. So would everyone in the village. They would all know terrible consequences would come of Hanara’s refusing. If Takado attacked the village and anyone died as a result, they would all blame Hanara.
But Lord Dakon was not in the village. He would not emerge to meet Takado. When Takado realised there was no magician to protect Mandryn, what would he do?
He will kill me for disobeying him.
Would he then leave? Or would he, having already killed one of Lord Dakon’s people, attack the villagers as well? It was possible that, despite their dislike of Hanara, the villagers might try to protect him on Lord Dakon’s behalf. If they did, they would die.
The only other choice I have is to go to Takado.
Then Takado would read his mind and learn that Lord Dakon was absent. Would he still attack the village? Not if he wanted to avoid conflict.
Beside, he’ll also learn from my mind that there is another magician nearby ready to defend Mandryn if needed.
Hanara managed a smile, but it quickly faded. The trouble was, Takado wouldn’t learn this if he didn’t read Hanara’s mind. The one piece of information that would deter Takado from coming to get Hanara was the one piece of information that he could only learn from Hanara.
That’s not entirely true. He could learn it from other villagers, if he had reason to talk to them or read their minds.
But Takado would never deign to talk to commoners, and reading the minds of anyone here would be seen as an act of aggression. He’d only do it if he had decided to attack the village, at which point he would act swiftly and wouldn’t waste time with mind-reading.
Hanara sighed and resisted the urge to sit up and look through the loft window to check if the signal was still blinking in the distance.
Hasn’t anyone else noticed? He hadn’t heard the men in the stables or people in the village say anything about it. If they had seen it, surely someone would have investigated. They would not find Takado unless he wanted them to. If they found nothing, would they still send a warning to this other magician who was supposed to protect Mandryn? Where is this other magician, anyway? The signal was coming from the ridges and hills surrounding the village. From what Hanara had learned during Takado’s travels, villages in the outer leys were usually a day’s wagon ride from each other. The only other habitations were small farmers’ cottages and shacks.
He doubted this other magician lived in a cottage. So where did he live? And if Mandryn was attacked, how long would it take him to arrive?
There had to be some way he could find out. Moving to the edge of the loft, he looked down at the stables. A lamp had been set on a table where the servants had been playing a game using small pottery tokens and a board. The men were gone, their game unfinished.
He could hear faint voices somewhere behind the stables. “Hanar!”
He jumped and looked at the stable doors, where the stable master was standing.
“Come down,” Ravern ordered.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Hanara stood up, dusted straw off his clothing, and climbed down the ladder to the stable floor. He followed the stable master out. Ravern led him behind the building, to where three familiar figures were standing, the two stable boys and Keron, the servant master. Their attention was fixed on something beyond the stables.