Stara nodded. “If I am useless to him ...I guess I can’t hope that he’ll let me help in the trade now. Do you think he’ll send me back to Elyne?”
There was a flicker of something in Vora’s eyes. Surely not dismay. “Perhaps. It is too dangerous to do so now, with the border closed and the ichani doing as they please. He might merely reconsider who to marry you to. Hopefully not someone who likes to break a woman’s spirit – just someone who fancies having such a beautiful wife enough to overlook the annoyance of a bit of magical resistance.”
Stara winced and looked away. “Can’t it be someone I wouldn’t want to resist?”
“Do you think you can mend things with your father?”
His own daughter . . . Stara felt anger stir inside again. “Maybe on the surface.”
“Do...do you know how to kill a man while bedding him?” For a moment Stara could not believe what Vora had just asked. Then she turned to stare at the woman. Vora searched Stara’s eyes, then nodded.
“I guess not. I believe it is a skill linked to higher magic.” Vora rose and moved towards the door. “I will have some food and wine brought in.”
As the slave’s footsteps faded, Stara considered what the woman had asked her. So it’s possible to kill someone that way. Trouble is, to do so you’d have to allow yourself to be bedded by someone you hated so much you wanted to kill them. But I guess if someone forced themself on you, you might want to kill them that much.
She cursed Vora silently. The trouble was, once Stara knew something was possible with magic, she itched to know how to do it. And considering the situation she was in, she had more than just curiosity to fuel her desire to learn this particular skill.
But who was going to teach her?
Tessia yawned. For the last week the apprentices’ day had begun early, with a lesson from one or more of the magicians. Usually the lesson began with one teacher, but often the other magicians would emerge from their tents to watch and comment, and this sometimes led to one of them taking over to contribute something that enhanced the original teacher’s lesson, or, in one case, starting an argument.
“. . . some way of continuing after we deal with the invaders,” a voice said. Tessia resisted the temptation to turn and look at the magicians riding behind her in case it alerted them to the fact that she could hear them.
“I doubt it. Nobody co-operated to this extent before and I expect we’ll revert to our old suspicions and secretiveness again after.”
“But it is so much more efficient. I’ve learned new skills. I never realised there were such gaps in my knowledge.”
“Or mine.” There was a wistful sigh. “If there was a way to sustain...”
“We will have to find a way. The healers have their guild. I’ve heard it suggested we should start our own, so...”
As the voices faded Tessia looked at Jayan to see if he’d heard. He was smiling, his eyes bright.
“Do you think one of the apprentices passed on your idea to their master?” she asked.
He looked at her and his shoulders straightened. “Maybe.”
Tessia shrugged. “Perhaps the magicians came to the same conclusion by themselves. They were bound to eventually.”
He frowned at her reproachfully. “Do you think so?”
She smiled. “It would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Besides, they haven’t had the time to think it through.”
A few nights before, Jayan had told her of his ideas for a guild of magicians, where knowledge was shared and apprentices were taught by all magicians, not only their masters. They would have badges to identify them as members of the guild in the same way that members of the healers’ guild did, to assure customers that they had been well trained.
His plans had included separating members of the guild into two or three groups and encouraging competition between them in order to spur on invention and the development of skills. She’d pointed out it might also cause division and conflict and suggested a tiered system for the apprentices based on skill and knowledge levels. Perhaps one for each year of learning. Jayan then decided that those on the same level could compete individually or in teams.
She had suggested that magicians might concentrate on one type of skill in order to explore and develop it further. Some might study fighting and defence, others construction techniques for bridges and buildings. She could see potential in the latter for ensuring all constructions in the country were safe, by encouraging magicians to oversee their creation.
Other apprentices had come to join them then, and she’d felt vaguely disappointed. It had been the first extended conversation she’d had with Jayan that she’d truly enjoyed, in which they’d agreed with each other and shared a mutual excitement. When he’d told the other apprentices about his idea she’d been taken aback, though she was not sure why.
I don’t think it was because he put it forward as entirely his idea, she thought. Or that it went from being something just between us that he suddenly shared with everyone else. No, it was more a feeling of worry than annoyance. Worry that if he told people about it too early, before it was fully developed, they would forget who came up with it in the first place.
Ahead, the forest receded from the edges of the road and they rode into a small valley divided into fields. The state of the crops dismayed Tessia. Some fields had been left unharvested; others were covered in patches of weeds, having never been planted or maintained. Many of the crops were dry and brown, dead for lack of irrigation. The frustrating side to this wastage was that the Sachakans had never ventured this far south. The people had fled for no reason.
The magicians had abandoned their pursuit of the Sachakans for now, and were returning to the lowlands to meet reinforcements sent by the king. Tessia was looking forward to sleeping on a real bed again, and eating better food. Above all she was looking forward to not having fear constantly nagging at her. She could relax, knowing that they wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked by Sachakans at any moment.
Seeing dark shapes in the field ahead, Tessia grimaced. They had encountered animals dead or dying of starvation or thirst throughout their travels. She heard curses from the magicians and apprentices and silently added her own.
Then she realised that the leaders were urging their horses forward. She felt her stomach sink. None of them would be hurrying to investigate dead animals. As she reconsidered the dark shapes she began to make out human forms.
“How long ago, do you think?” she heard Werrin ask Dakon.
“Not long. A day at the most.” Dakon looked around and his gaze settled on her. His face held a grim question. Suppressing a sigh, she directed her horse to move alongside his and looked down at the first corpse, forcing herself to notice only the colour of the skin and condition of the flesh.
“More than half a day,” she said.
“These people aren’t dressed in clothes warm enough for the night,” Narvelan said. He had moved into the field and was riding back and forth, glancing from side to side. He came back to the road and turned his horse full circle. “Nor are some of them wearing shoes good enough for walking long distances. I think they had carts with them, probably stolen. There are trails of crushed curren moving out in all directions from this point. They must have seen their attackers and scattered.”
“More than one attacker?” Werrin asked.
“Have to be. They’ve all been killed with higher magic. One attacker would have to gather them together in order to kill them one at a time. This looks like at least four or five.”
“If these people scattered, then someone might have got away,” Werrin said. “We should follow all the trails and see if any don’t end with a corpse.”