A tall shadow emerged from a tent and hurried towards them.
“Lord Dakon.” Narvelan’s voice was so strained it took a moment for Tessia to recognise it. As his face came into the light she saw unhidden grief and guilt. “I am so sorry. I came as soon as I could, but it was already too late.”
Dakon swung down from his saddle. “You did everything you could, my friend. Do not apologise when the fault is not yours. If anything, it is mine for not seeing the danger and making better preparations.”
“We were aware of the threat long before I recruited you. We should have posted a watch on the pass. We should—”
“And you would have, had you known this would happen,” Dakon said firmly. “You didn’t. Don’t waste your energy and clever mind on regret. We cannot change the past. But we can learn from it – something I suspect we will have to do quickly.” He turned to Werrin, who dismounted as Dakon introduced him.
Watching Narvelan, Tessia was wearily impressed with the young magician. He clearly felt badly about the fate of Mandryn. She quietly absorbed the implications in Dakon’s heartfelt reply. Dakon had called him my friend. What else had he said? . . . your energy and clever mind. And Narvelan had said before I recruited you.
So Narvelan had been the one to draw Dakon into the Circle of Friends. And he was smart. She filed away these bits of information for consideration when she wasn’t so tired, and forced her aching body to dismount, and then stay upright.
“You don’t have an apprentice, do you?” Werrin asked Narvelan.
“No,” Narvelan replied. “I’ll have to do something about that.”
Tessia noted the reluctance in the young magician’s face and wondered at it. The magicians’ conversation was interrupted as a young man rode out of the trees and approached them.
“Lord Narvelan,” he said, stopping close to the magician.
Narvelan turned to face the young man. “Yes, Rovin? Did you find them?”
“Dek did. He spotted three of them heading north and followed. Lost them in the High Valley forest. They were on foot and not carrying supplies, so he reckons they’re camping up there somewhere.”
“Has Hannel returned?”
“No, but . . .” the young man paused to grimace, “Dek found Garrell’s body. No deep wounds on him, just the sort of cuts you said to look for.”
Narvelan nodded, his expression grim. “I will tell his family. Anything else?”
The young man shook his head.
“Go and get some rest then. And thank you.”
Rovin’s shoulders rose briefly, then he steered his horse away. Narvelan sighed.
“Not the first scout they’ve killed,” he told them. “Now, would you like some food? We’ve packed as light as possible, but there’s plenty of fare that won’t travel well that we may as well use up.”
“That would be much appreciated. We haven’t eaten since morning,” Dakon told him.
At Narvelan’s orders, two men from the camp emerged to take care of the horses. Tessia warned the man who took hers to handle her father’s bag carefully and not let it tip over. Then she followed the magicians to where blankets had been spread out in front of one of the fires. Cold, charred meat, slightly stale bread and fresh vegetables were brought out for them – a simple but welcome meal. Tessia felt her attention slipping as the magicians talked – Dakon about the journey and how the metal worker’s boy refused to leave Mandryn, Narvelan about what he had and hadn’t brought in the carts and how he’d had to be firm with the villagers about what and how many possessions to take.
Her thoughts slipped to a memory of two graves. I didn’t even get to see them dead, she thought. Not that it would have been pleasant. It’s just... the last time I saw them they were healthy and alive. It’s so hard to accept that they’re—
“I know what you’re feeling.”
Tessia blinked in surprise and turned to see Jayan watching her. His expression was serious and earnest.
“Just...if you need to talk about it,” he told her.
Then he smiled, and she felt a sudden and unexpected anger. Of all people, why would she ever talk to him about something so...so... He’d only laugh at her weak nature, or use it against her later. She wasn’t sure how. Maybe he’d consider it a favour she had to repay.
“You don’t know how I feel,” she found herself saying. “How could you know? Were your parents murdered?”
He flinched, then he frowned and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “No. But my mother died because my father would not let her see a healer, and wouldn’t pay for any cures she needed. Does your father letting your mother die count?”
She stared at him and felt all her anger drain away, leaving a nasty feeling of shame and horror.
“Oh.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. They both looked away. An awkward silence followed, then Narvelan asked if they minded sleeping by the fire. All the tents were occupied and at least the magically gifted had the ability to create a shield to shelter themselves if it rained. Dakon assured him they didn’t mind.
Soon Tessia was trussed up in blankets on the hard ground, staring up at the stars and wryly wondering how she had managed to make herself feel even worse than before. Shame at what she’d said to Jayan overlaid the constant ache of grief.
His father let his mother die for want of a healer? she thought. Is that why he disapproves of my wanting to be a healer? But surely such a tragedy would have the opposite effect.
Clouds flowed across the moon, and darkness closed in round the fires. He was trying to be nice. Maybe I shouldn’t be suspicious of him all the time, but how am I supposed to know when he’s being friendly? She grimaced as she remembered his explanation. His mother died and it was his father’s fault.
He might still have a father, but he did lose both his parents that day.
Exhaustion’s blessing was that it brought a sleep that Tessia did not wake from, despite grief, shame and fear, until long after the sun had risen. The stirring of the camp roused her, and she threw herself into helping Narvelan’s people pack and prepare for the day’s journey. They were travelling, Dakon told her and Jayan, to a village in Narvelan’s ley that was notoriously hard to find even by those invited to it. Small and unimportant, it was unlikely to be considered a strategic target by Takado and his allies – if they even knew it existed – unless they realised it was being used as a meeting place. There, other Circle magicians would join Narvelan, Dakon and Werrin to discuss what they should do next.
The journey was made after dusk the next night, with shadowy figures emerging at intervals to assure the magicians the way ahead was safe. All remained in as close a state to silence as a lot of creaky old carts, harassed domestic animals, and the occasionally fretful baby would allow.
The villagers were mainly strangers to Tessia, but in the darkness the impression that she was surrounded by the people of Mandryn kept sneaking into Tessia’s thoughts. The grumble of an old woman, the laugh of two young boys who’d forgotten the order of silence, the stern reproach of their mother – all reminded her of the people she had grown up among. People who were now dead, but for a few.
Other than Tiken, the metal worker’s boy, who had remained in Mandryn, the survivors had joined Narvelan’s people. They now included one of the young stable workers, Ullan, who had run away when Takado had begun attacking villagers, and a few of the children who had hidden themselves successfully. Salia, the baker’s daughter, had been visiting a sister on one of the farms. She was doubly lucky, because Takado and his allies had killed many of the surrounding farmers and their families after attacking the village.