Takado looked thoughtful. He opened his mouth to reply, but a call from within the forest stalled him. All rose as the call came again, from closer. Then a slave staggered out of the trees and threw herself at Takado’s feet.
“Dead,” she gasped. “They’re all dead!”
“Who?” Takado snapped.
“Dovaka, Nagana, Ravora and Sageko. They... they took a village and the Kyralians came and killed them.”
Dachido muttered a curse. Takado glanced at him, then he looked down at the slave again. “They invaded a village.”
“Yes.”
“And stayed there. They didn’t leave?”
“Yes. No.”
“And the Kyralians took exception to this. How unfriendly of them.”
“They killed Dovaka,” The slave began to sob. “My master is dead.”
“Go.” Takado nudged her with his toe. “Get yourself some food and water and rest over by that tree. We will decide what to do with you later.”
As she obeyed he turned to Dachido and Asara. To Hanara’s surprise, he was smiling broadly.
“Now I am ready to make my decision. Tomorrow we will not travel separately. We will move southward together. We will destroy everything, strengthening ourselves as we go. But we will advance slowly so that others may still come through the pass and join us. We will take over Kyralia, piece by piece, magician by magician, until it is all ours.”
There was a pause as all the magicians stared at Takado in surprise. Then they gave a cheer and raised their cups in agreement. Asara glanced at Dachido, then shrugged and raised her cup. Dachido did the same, gazing at Takado in thoughtful admiration.
Dovaka is dead! Hanara thought as he rushed to refill Takado’s cup. The madman is dead. Was that Takado’s plan all along? Did he only want to get rid of Dovaka? And demonstrate to the rest of these allies why they should take his advice and follow orders? But then, maybe he needed the Kyralians to kill some Sachakans before he could get the full support of his allies. And if some Sachakans had to die then it might as well be the ones he couldn’t rely on...
Hanara’s mind swirled with wonder. Truly his master was a genius. And while he had just lost four allies, he had gained considerably more.
All night Jayan could not shake the thought that he was sleeping in the bed of a dead man.
Rather than squeeze all the magicians into the master’s house, the villagers had found room for them in the unoccupied houses of the village. Jayan had been longing to sleep in a real bed, but when he realised that he, Dakon and Tessia were taking up residence in the home of a family who had died he found he could not relax.
At first he lay awake with memories of the day repeating before his mind’s eye. Then sleep came, but was chased away time after time by nightmares.
We won, he thought. So why am I suddenly having bad dreams?
It might be the memory of the bodies of the villagers the Sachakans had tortured that was putting his mind in dark places. And the stories the survivors told, and the haunted eyes of the women rescued from the rooms where the enemy had imprisoned them, some of them far too young to have endured such an ordeal.
Or it might also have been the battle itself, frightening and thrilling all at once, that had excited his mind too much for sleep. He kept finding himself analysing everything – every step and choice. But another thought kept creeping in that disturbed him more than he expected.
It was the first time I’ve killed. Oh, I only contributed some of the power, and did not direct the strike, but I still had a part in the deaths of other people.
It wasn’t guilt or regret that bothered him. The Sachakans were invaders. They had killed Kyralians. And after seeing what the Sachakans had done to the villagers, Jayan knew he wouldn’t have hesitated to deal the fatal blows himself.
But he couldn’t help feeling that something in him had changed, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good change. He resented the Sachakans – all the invaders – for causing it to happen. There was no going back, no undoing the change. Ironically, that made him want them gone from Kyralia even more – even if it meant killing again.
When dawn came, Jayan rose, washed himself and his clothes, dried his clothes with magic and put them on again. He waited in the kitchen until Dakon and Tessia emerged from their rooms and joined him. Dakon moved to a cupboard and opened the doors.
“It feels wrong to be eating their food,” he said.
Jayan and Tessia exchanged a glance.
“Either someone will eat it or it will go bad,” she said.
“And it’s not as if we’re stealing it from them,” Jayan added. Dakon sighed and brought out some stale bread, salted meat, and sweet preserves. Tessia rose and found plates and cutlery. They ate silently.
She looks exhausted, Jayan noted. Dark marks shadowed the skin under her eyes and her shoulders were slumped. He wished he could cheer her up, or at least see some of the familiar spark of interest in her eyes again. Even a bit of healing obsession would be better than seeing her all glum and sad.
“So how did the villagers fare?” he asked her. “Are they well?”
She blinked at him, then shrugged. “Surprisingly few injuries – mostly the girls. They’ll heal, but . . .” She grimaced and shook her head. “Otherwise, the Sachakans killed anyone injured in the attack, and once they decided to torture someone they always finished them off. Eventually.”
Jayan nodded. It matched what he’d been told. He felt his stomach turn. I thought what happened to Sudin and Aken was cruel, but they were treated kindly compared to some of these villagers. Tormented for hours. All out of some distorted idea of fun.
“Not all Sachakans are so depraved,” Dakon said quietly.
Tessia and Jayan looked at him. He smiled tiredly.
“I know it’s hard to believe right now, and I admit I’m finding it difficult to make myself remember the fact, but it is true.
Unfortunately it’s the greedy, ambitious and most violent who are most likely to be attracted to Takado’s side. I—”
A knock on the front door of the house interrupted him. Dakon rose and left the kitchen, then returned and beckoned. Jayan and Tessia rose and followed him out into the street, where Narvelan waited.
Two groups had gathered on the other side of the road. One was of magicians and apprentices, the other was a painfully small gathering of villagers. Narvelan gestured for the trio to follow and led them towards the magicians.
“They’ve offered to give us strength,” he told Dakon.
“Hmm,” was all Dakon uttered in reply.
“I thought you’d say that.”
As Dakon joined the magicians and the debate, Tessia moved close to Jayan.
“It makes sense, and if they’re willing to give it why shouldn’t we accept?” she asked. “We’ve just used a lot of power. Taking theirs wouldn’t harm them, but it could help us regain some strength.” She frowned. “I would advise against taking power from the girls, though. They’ve gone through enough.”
“Aside from the fact we’d be breaking the king’s laws, it’s not that simple,” Jayan told her. “Dakon explained it to me once.” He paused, trying to remember his master’s words. “He said no good magician is completely comfortable with using higher magic. It’s essential to the defence of the country, and enables us to do more than we can with just our own powers, but he said that in the hands of an ambitious or sadistic magician it can be dangerous. Or in the hands of someone desperate to justify its use. He said, “Self-righteousness can be as destructive as unscrupulousness.” Yes, I definitely remember those words. Got me thinking. Still does, sometimes.”
She turned her head to the side slightly and considered him. “You’re a very contradictory man, Jayan.”
He blinked and stared at her. “I am?”