Disclaimer – I do not own BMT world, it belongs to Trudi Canavan
Hopes and Fears
Takan slowly lifted the lid and took a long sniff at the bubbling contents of the pot. He nodded appreciatively, it was good, but there was a little something missing. He reached up and lifted down a small wooden box. Opening it, he frowned slightly at the limited contents. I need more supplies, he thought as he dropped a small handful of the green mixture into the pot. The spice was a favourite in his homeland, but virtually unknown in the Allied Lands. Luckily, Akkarin's smugglers knew where to obtain it, all he needed to do was put in an order for the next trip and he would have a plentiful quantity available again.
Akkarin. Takan replaced the lid and stood staring out of his kitchen window. His fate was inextricably bound up with the tall, dark magician he had first met all those years ago. He remembered the first time he had seen him, riding into Dakova's camp, a young man full of confidence and power. He had been welcomed by the Ichani leader, feasted and entertained before being captured and drained of all but the small bit of his magic necessary to keep him alive. Thrown in with the rest of the slaves, to be nothing more than a source of power tapped daily to provide his master with strength, Akkarin had not stopped fighting to escape. Takan and the rest had witnessed the heavy punishments inflicted following one failed escape attempt after another. It became a regular sight to see his broken and bruised body tossed back in the slave's enclosure, yet the young man's pride had never been extinguished. He simply waited until his hurts had healed, then tried again.
The unlikely friendship between them had begun when Takan, feeling desperately sorry for the proud young man reduced to a bleeding bundle of flesh and bone, had made a poultice for one of Akkarin's deeper wounds. The magician was never left with enough power to take care of himself, and no-one in the camp bothered about treating any of the slaves. But Takan found himself unable to ignore the plight of this particular foreign magician. He had access to the camp stores through his work as a cook, and made up a mixture which he smeared on some clean rags and bound up the injury. The wound healed quickly and Akkarin was grateful.
After that, Takan kept an eye on Akkarin, slipping him extra food when possible, and treating his cuts and bruises. Akkarin was appreciative and shared his ideas for escaping, relying of Takan's deeper knowledge of the Ichani and their camp. However, it soon became obvious that there was a further problem unrelated to the ordinary difficulties of outwitting the guards. Takan had watched with dismay as the young man's obsession with Dakova's pleasure slave grow deeper and deeper. Dakova was possessive of his bed slaves, lending them out only to specific men he wanted to reward. For anyone else, any sort of contact with them meant death or worse. Akkarin, however, cared nothing for the danger.
Takan tried to remember what she looked like, but all he could visualise was a vague image of a slender girl with pleasant features. There was nothing about her, as far as he could see, which would cause a man to become obsessed with her. What was her name? Even that was lost to him. Dakova simply called her girl, or woman when he was in a good mood, and slut or whore when he wasn't. Yet obsessed with her Akkarin was and his obsession grew deeper as each day passed. Now his dreams of escape included her and nothing Takan could say would persuade him against the idea.
Of course it had all gone wrong in the end. The girl died and Akkarin, in his rage and despair had killed all the Ichani in the camp, and all the slaves, except for the one who had looked after him. After that, wherever Akkarin went, Takan went with him, devoting himself to his friend's well-being. Nothing that could happen to them now or in the future, would change that.
Takan sighed. He had hoped when Sonea had come into their lives, that Akkarin would see in her someone who could take the place of the slave girl in his heart. In many ways, he had, but still, as Takan knew from the blood gem link between them, Akkarin still grieved deeply for his lost love.
His remembrance of the blood gem link alerted him to a dark brooding presence in his mind. He had to be careful with dwelling on the past. Akkarin didn't like it when his servant became immersed in memories of their time in the camp. Takan had learned over the years to choose his time for remembering carefully. Usually he indulged his thoughts when his master was engrossed in something, with little time to spare to listen in to his servant's thoughts, as he had been today; or had dipped heavily into their wine stores. But whatever the distraction, eventually, Akkarin would be alerted to Takan's indulgence in memory and a short, sharp command would echo in his mind. It was better to avoid such things.
Takan sighed and stirred the pot again. Supper would be ready soon and he suspected it would be an uncomfortable affair. There was something strange about the child which made Taken very afraid. He had always feared magicians, any magician, but there was something else around Justen which he found terrifying.
ooo000ooo
Justen stared at the page in his book. He had looked at that very page many times in the last hour, but try as he might, he could not stop staring at it until a certain amount of time had passed. Neither could he move from his chair. Over and over again, he had turned a page, stared at the contents for several minutes, then turned the next page. When he got to the end of the book, he simply started at the beginning again. He was frightened, because he didn't know why or how this was happening.
Some time ago, he had become used to the strange lapses in his memory which were now occurring at a much faster rate. At first, he had been frightened by suddenly finding himself doing something different to his last recollection, or finding that time had passed and he hadn't noticed. Then, as the episodes continued, he found that nothing bad actually happened to him. He would be doing one thing in one place, then find himself doing something different in another, that was all. He was able to cope with that. He just had to be careful about saying something straightaway when he 'woke up' because he didn't want anyone else to know what was happening. He didn't know why, but it was important no-one knew, especially his parents.
Sometimes, the gaps occurred during his lessons with Verrin and Syma, but he could never remember anything they may have taught him during that time. They didn't seem to notice either which Justen found very odd. He was used to being the centre of their attention, so he would have thought they would notice when he went away, but they never referred to it.
Someone takes my place! The thought struck him suddenly and it made sense. Syma and Verrin didn't notice because someone put on his body like a cloak and carried on doing things while Justen himself was what? Asleep? Somewhere else? A frown creased his forehead as the boy tried to make sense of his sudden idea. It must be some sort of magic, but whose? There was no-one else with magic anywhere near their home. Could it be Takan? He knew the servant wasn't a magician, yet Justen could sense a hidden vein of magic which was very much a part of Takan. But despite his possession of magic, Takan couldn't speak with him like Syma and Verrin, nor could he perform any sort of magic at all as far as Justen knew. It couldn't be him.
He turned the page and stared at the next picture, struggling to let go of the book, but it was no use. His gaze remained firmly fixed on the picture, but at least his thoughts were free to flow. It must be the same person's magic which is doing this too, but why? Is there something special about this book? Am I supposed to find out something?
Justen felt happier at that thought. He was meant to find something and until he did, he feared he would keep turning the pages. I will wait until I get to the beginning again, then I will start looking very closely at every line and every picture. I will find what it is!
ooo000ooo
Takan carefully carried the heavy pot to the table and placed it in the middle. The lid would keep the contents hot for a few minutes while he arranged the rest of the food and set out the fruit juice, wine and glasses. Once everything was ready, he alerted Akkarin.
When Akkarin and Sonea emerged from their library, Taken could see they had both been drinking wine. Sonea seemed to be much more relaxed than she had been and even Akkarin seemed at peace. Takan was still concerned, however. He knew that even Akkarin's behaviour became unpredictable if he had drunk a lot of the strong wine he loved. Takan tried to remember just how many bottles there were on the side table, but he couldn't and he could hardly leave the food to go cold while he went to check. He simply prayed to his family's gods that things would go well this evening.
There was no sign of Justen, which was odd because the boy had a healthy appetite. Takan looked around and spotted him sitting by the fire, staring at a book. He went over and tapped the boy on his shoulder. Justen jumped and looked up.
"Your food is ready," Takan said, making sure his mouth formed the words clearly.
For a moment, it looked as if Justen would ignore him and go back to reading his book, but then he put the book down and stood up, a look of relief on his face. He almost ran to the table and as soon as Sonea had filled his plate, began to eat quickly.
There was not much conversation round the table, spoken or otherwise. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, although Takan noticed that Sonea stared at Justen every now and again, a small frown creasing her forehead. Whatever had happened between them had unnerved her. Akkarin appeared not to notice his companion's discomfort, yet Takan caught him looking closely at Sonea several times when her attention was elsewhere.
Whatever had occurred earlier that day was a problem and neither Akkarin nor Sonea appeared comfortable with it. That probably meant they didn't know how to deal with it yet. That they would be able to deal with it, Takan had no doubts. He had lived with them long enough to know they usually found their way out of trouble eventually. It was what happened along the road that gave him cause for concern. Neither, of course, shared their thoughts with their servant. Takan supressed a sigh. They would tell him all about it when he needed to know. Until then, he decided, he would keep a close eye on the boy.