Unused to bargaining, Tessia only managed to argue the man down to twelve silver, but she bought the books anyway. It pleased her hostess. Avaria had already bought her several expensive items and, Tessia suspected, would buy these as well if Tessia didn’t. And there might be times when Avaria wasn’t free to entertain Tessia while Dakon and Jayan were occupied with their important meetings.
As they left the shop Avaria gasped. “Oh, look! There’s Falia!” Suddenly she was pulling Tessia by the arm, her wandering steps lengthening to strides. “Falia sweet!”
A blonde woman in a pale pink and cream dress turned, her face lighting up with a wide smile as she saw Avaria.
“Avaria sweet!”
“This is Apprentice Tessia, who is staying with us at the moment, along with Lord Dakon from Aylen ley and Apprentice Jayan of Drayn. It’s Tessia’s first visit to Imardin.”
Falia’s eyebrows rose. “Welcome to Imardin, Apprentice Tessia.” Still smiling, she tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Are you apprenticed to Lord Dakon?”
“Yes.”
“With Jayan as your co-apprentice.” The woman’s nose wrinkled. “Poor you! He was such a brat as a child. I hope he’s improved.” She regarded Tessia expectantly.
“I’m hardly able to judge since I didn’t know him as a br-ah-child,” Tessia managed.
Falia laughed. “Our families were close back then. Now they’re not.” She shrugged. “That’s life in the city. So what is he like as a young man?”
Tessia tried to search for the right word and failed. “Older.”
Both Avaria and Falia laughed, this time knowingly. “I guess not much has changed,” Avaria concluded. “Though he isn’t a strain to look at.”
“Really?” Falia’s expressive eyebrows rose again. “Not all bad, then. Are you two coming to the party at Darya’s?”
“Of course.”
“I was just going to buy some conecakes, then go. Would you like to come with me? There’s room in my wagon.”
“Why not?” Avaria smiled at Tessia. “I think we’ve spent all we need to spend for today, haven’t we?”
Tessia nodded. She hadn’t yet bought a present for her mother, but she was sure there’d be more shopping trips to come.
They followed Falia along the street to a shop selling spices and other food ingredients, as well as a multitude of sweet treats. Conecakes turned out to be little cone-shaped frothy breads dusted in fine sugar. Inside, Falia told her, was a little surprise of sweetened fruit puree. You could never tell which type of fruit it would be until you bit into it.
Somehow Tessia found herself holding a bag of salted tiro nuts while they waited for Falia’s wagon to arrive. When it did, Avaria sent one of her servants back to her wagon driver, who was apparently waiting on First Street, to tell him to return home without them and then be ready to collect them from Falia’s house later. The other piled their purchases inside Falia’s wagon and climbed onto the back.
The two city women chatted about people Tessia did not know during the ride to Darya’s house. Tessia was relieved that they did. She felt exhausted. Though she had only walked a distance she estimated was the length of Mandryn twice or three times over, she felt as if she’d run across the entire length of a ley.
She wasn’t so tired that she didn’t notice when they turned into Fourth Street, and drove along the opposite side of King’s Parade to the one on which Avaria’s house was situated. It wasn’t much later that the wagon stopped and the two women gracefully stepped out, making the awkward stepladder seem no more difficult than a mansion staircase. Tessia followed them to the door.
Once inside, Avaria hooked her arm in Tessia’s again. For a moment Falia looked disappointed, but then she gave a little shrug and led the way into the house.
Darya’s home was set out in what Tessia now recognised as the Kyralian style, like Lord Dakon’s Residence. The entrance opened into a greeting hall, from which stairs led up to the second storey and openings on either side invited access to the ground-level rooms.
A servant guided them to a room on the first floor with large windows overlooking the street. Three women were sitting about a round table, and rose to greet the newcomers. Tessia was surprised to see that the hostess was short, a little rounded, and clearly Sachakan. But when Lady Darya smiled her green eyes shone with friendliness.
“Avaria! Falia!” She lightly touched both cheeks of the women with her fingertips, then turned to Tessia. “And this must be Apprentice Tessia. Welcome. Sit down. Relax. Oh! You brought conecakes!”
The other women made appreciative sounds as the cakes were laid on the table. More chairs were brought by servants, and a silver platter to arrange the cakes on.
The conversation that ensued was every bit as noisy, gaudy and disorientating as the market. Tessia settled on listening, and for some time it seemed everyone had forgotten she was there. The other two women were Kendaria and Lady Zakia. Darya had married the magician son of a rich trader – and his entire family, she joked. Zakia’s husband was a city lord and magician. Kendaria’s was cousin to the king, and they lived with his older brother and their family. They spent a lot of time making fun of their husbands, Tessia noticed.
Then, when a piece of gossip had been milked of all its possibilities and everyone had fallen into a speculative silence, Avaria nodded to her guest.
“Tessia’s father is a healer, and she was his assistant before she stumbled on her powers.”
“You’re a natural!” Zakia nodded approvingly. “You must be very strong.”
Tessia shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I’m told that is the way things work.”
“Kendaria is training to be a healer,” Avaria said, giving Tessia a meaningful look.
Tessia blinked in surprise, then looked at the small, slim woman sitting beside her. “You are?” She paused. “I thought... aren’t women...?”
Kendaria laughed quietly. “Money,” she said. “Power. And the fact that there is no actual rule or law anywhere that says we can’t train to be healers. Work as one?” Her shoulders lifted, but her eyes were sharp with determination. “We’ll see about that one when we get there, though I only started because I wanted to use my skills to help friends and family.”
Hope and bitterness swept over Tessia. If her father had been rich and powerful, would she have been able to train as well? Was Kendaria the first woman to defy tradition?
The woman leaned closer. “If you like, I’ll take you to watch a dissection. Would you like that?”
A thrill ran through Tessia. She remembered her father wistfully describing what he’d seen and learned watching dissections, the few times he’d visited Imardin and the Healer’s Guild in order to improve his knowledge. His descriptions had been both horrifying and fascinating, and she’d always wondered whether she, in that situation, would faint, or would lose herself in the mysteries of the human body as he had. She liked to believe she wouldn’t faint, and wondered every time they treated a gory injury or encountered a corpse if that was test enough.
“Eugh!” Zakia said. “I don’t know how you can stand it. Don’t go if you don’t want to, Tessia. Nobody would blame you.”
Tessia smiled and looked at Kendaria.
“I’d love to.”
CHAPTER 15
Dakon’s wagon pulled up in front of the imposing grey stone building, home of the Drayn family for four centuries. Jayan sighed and forced himself out of his seat. As always happened when he visited his childhood home, mixed feelings arose at the first sight of it. Memories washed over him of childish games played with his brother, teasing his younger sisters, the warmth and smell of his mother, and celebrations both formal and informal. They brought a wistful fondness, inevitably followed by a gut-sinking resentment and remembered fear, grief and bitterness as he recalled punishment for mistakes that still seemed too harsh, the terrible feeling of loss and being lost and alone after his mother had gone, and the sour realisation of what be
ing the second son meant.
Magic had offered him an escape in more ways than one. It took him from a home that had become stifling and humiliating, and gave him the means, if needed, to be independent of his family’s wealth.
Wealth? Or is that charity?
Still, he wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t cut himself off from them. His father’s nature might never soften, but with the weakness of age it was a blunt weapon. His brother’s arrogance in youth had also faded a little with maturity, perhaps because he knew Jayan, as a magician, would not be the dependent and obedient little brother he’d anticipated pushing around for the rest of his life, perhaps because he’d learned that other people – people he wanted to impress – were repelled by his maliciousness.
The door servant bowed and opened the door. Walking inside, Jayan looked around the greeting hall. Nothing had changed. The same paintings hung on the walls. The same screens framed the windows. Another servant greeted him and led him through the house. Jayan breathed in the sight and smell of familiarity. It was like dust laced with old perfume.
Finally they reached a small room at the back of the house, furnished with two old chairs. This was his father’s favourite room, into which he had always retreated “to think”. It had been a place forbidden to small children, where stern talks and punishments were given to older children, and orders were given to adult children. The significance wasn’t lost on Jayan. His father was in the mood for imposing his will. Jayan would have to be careful.
Yet Lord Karvelan, head of family Drayn, looked smaller and more lined than Jayan remembered, as if he had dried out slightly in the year since Jayan had seen him. There was still strength in the set of his shoulders and the directness of his gaze, though. Jayan met that gaze, smiled politely, and waited for his father to speak. You always waited for Lord Karvelan to speak. It was a right he insisted on.
“Welcome back, Apprentice Jayan,” Karvelan said.
“Thank you, Father,” Jayan replied. “Did you get my message?”
Karvelan nodded. “I gather our notes crossed each other.”
“It appears so,” Jayan replied, holding up the brusque summons he had received that morning, not long after he had dutifully sent his own note informing his father of his presence in the city and enquiring if he should visit.
“Sit down,” Karvelan said, nodding at the other chair. Jayan obeyed. Karvelan was silent a moment, his expression thoughtful. Strange how I never call him “Father” in my mind. Always “Karvelan”. But Mother was always “Mother”.
“How is your training going?” Karvelan asked finally.
“Well.”
“Any closer to finishing?”
“Yes, but I can’t say how close. Only Lord Dakon can answer that question.”
“You were almost done when you last visited.” Karvelan scowled. “Is it true he has another apprentice?”
Jayan nodded. “It is.”
The scowl deepened. “This will surely delay your training. He should have waited until yours was finished.”
“He had no choice. She is a natural and dangerous if left untrained. By law he must train her.”
His father’s eyes narrowed and Jayan almost expected a scolding. Instead the old man grimaced. “Then he should have sent her elsewhere.”
Jayan shrugged. “He probably would have, if I were not close to independence. Even so, I don’t presume to question my master’s decisions. He does, usually, know best.”
Karvelan’s expression changed from approval at Jayan’s subservience to another scowl.
“Does he? What of this group he has joined? This ‘Circle of Friends’. Do you not find it an unwise move? It smells of rebellion.”
Jayan gazed at his father in surprise, then realised he was staring and looked away.
“You didn’t know I knew, did you?” There was satisfaction in Karvelan’s voice.
“Oh, the group isn’t a secret.”
“Then what?”
“That anyone... this idea that . . .” Jayan stopped and shook his head. It was never wise to phrase anything in a way that might be taken as a criticism of his father’s opinion. “Rebellion is a strong word. I assure you, the group has the encouragement and support of the king. Or...do you suggest rebellion against someone else?”
A sullen darkness had entered his father’s eyes – a look Jayan knew all too well. It was the look that Karvelan wore whenever he had reason to dislike his younger son.
“Rebellion against the city is rebellion against the king,” he growled. He shifted, his gaze sliding away for a brief moment. “I don’t want you associating with this Circle,” he said. “Links to them could reflect badly on your family.”
Jayan opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself. He wanted to assure his father that the Circle of Friends was only concerned with the defence of the country. The whole country.
That he could not, in good conscience, oppose the defending of his homeland. But there was no point in arguing.
So he sighed. “Until I am a higher magician I must obey Lord Dakon. If he associates with the Circle then I have no choice but to do so as well. But...I will do what I can to remain a mere observer.”
“You should find yourself a new teacher,” Karvelan said, but without conviction. He knew that the choice, again, was out of his son’s hands. Jayan didn’t test his patience by pointing that out.
“I will do what I can,” he repeated.
“Finish your training,” his father said. “Don’t let that girl take all of Lord Dakon’s attention. She has no good reputation or alliances to lose.” He shook his head. “It is irresponsible of your master to drag you into this.”
Jayan said nothing. A silence fell between them, and when he judged it long enough to justify changing the subject, he asked how his brother was faring. While his father proudly described Velan’s conquests in trade and of women who might be acceptable marriage prospects, Jayan found himself thinking about Tessia.
No reputation to lose? he mused. No annoying family obligations to shake off, more like it. And alliances... from the way she and Avaria were talking last night, after their party, I suspect she’s doing a very good job of making friends here. With some particularly powerful women of the city, too.
And he’d been worried about her being accepted.
Suddenly he could see the attraction Tessia might have for city socialites. There were no alliances to endanger by befriending her. As a village healer’s daughter, she was educated enough to be acceptable company, different enough to provide entertainment. He could even see that her interest in healing, and determination to pursue it, made her an exciting person for city socialites to watch and admire.
Even if she failed, she would provide entertainment for the rich and bored. And, like Jayan, at least her magic would ensure she could not fall too far or too hard.
We have more in common than I thought, he mused wryly. He liked the idea that, if either of them ever fell from grace, the other might be there to offer support. It’s always easier to become friends with someone you have something in common with. I just hope it doesn’t take some socially disastrous fall before she’ll consider the possibility I might be a friend.
The healers’ university looked exactly as Tessia had imagined. Her father had described it as an “old but strange building that has adopted and absorbed surrounding houses as opportunity and funds allowed”. It sounded confusing and intriguing, and it was.
Though a muddle of interconnecting buildings, all had been built in the Kyralian style so there was a unifying look about the exterior. Inside, it was like walking through somebody’s home without ever finding the back door. Narrow corridors led to more narrow corridors. The doors on either side of the corridors were nearly all closed, so there was little natural light in the passages. Instead they were lit with the warm glow of oil lamps. The few rooms Tessia managed to look inside were no larger than the kitchen in her parents’ house, and furnished in a similar way with shelvi
ng on the walls, a table in the middle, and a fireplace at one end.
Kendaria was leading her to the dissection room. Tessia could not help wondering where in this place the healers would find a room big enough to hold both an audience the size her new friend had described and a dissection table.
Then they stepped from a doorway into a strange space. It was like the underside of a wooden staircase, except it was a very wide staircase. She could hear footsteps and voices above.
Ahead a narrow break in the “staircases” allowed access beyond, and Kendaria led her forward. They emerged into a large room. Looking around, Tessia realised that the wide stairways were actually tiered seats that sloped up to plain brick walls – some with bricked-up windows. Several young men were already sitting on the steps. They eyed her and Kendaria with interest.
The walls look like the exterior of houses, Tessia thought. She looked up. The beams of a wood and tile roof stretched overhead. This must have been a small street or a garden. They just built those seats and covered it over. Which explained why it was so cold.
In the middle of the room was a generous stone bench. From the grooves carved into it to carry fluids into buckets she guessed it was the dissection table. On another, smaller table nearby several tools had been arranged. She knew what most of them were and wondered if the rest were specifically for dissections.
“We don’t have to stay, if you’re having second thoughts,” Kendaria murmured.
Realising the woman must have noticed her looking at the tools, Tessia smiled. “No, I’m looking forward to it. Where do we sit?”
“First I need to introduce you to Healer Orran. I don’t think there’ll be any problem with my bringing you here, especially as your father is a healer and you’ve been his assistant, and we’ve paid our fee. But it’s good manners to ask, and to introduce you.”
She led Tessia to two men of about the same age as Tessia’s father. The men were talking, as far as Tessia could tell, about the pregnancy of a colleague’s wife. Just idle chatter, but though the pair both glanced at Kendaria and Tessia when they approached, they continued talking as if the two women were not present.