Disclaimer – I do not own BMT world, it belongs to Trudi Canavan

King's Magician

Sonea stared at her image in the mirror for a long time. The loose trousers and shirt were of a very dark grey material, almost, but not quite, black. Like all of the clothing left for her, they fitted exactly. She ran her fingers over the shirt. It was made of fine lawn, with small black shiny buttons down the front and black silk embroidery around the neck and cuffs. The trousers were made of heavier material, with a thin black velvet line down each side. There were two pairs of boots, a glossy leather pair for outdoor wear and softer ones for use indoors. For the moment, she was wearing the softer pair.

Over it all, she had pulled on the robes. These were black, not grey, and reached down to the floor, covering her other garments completely. It was this last item of clothing which caused her to stare at her reflection. It was difficult to get used to being a magician again, and a qualified one at that. She pulled up the hood. She was now enclosed entirely in black, with just her pale face providing a contrast. All of a sudden she giggled. I could be a High Lady in this get up! Although as far as she knew there had never been a High Lady in the Guild, seeing herself dressed like one, made her desire the position, just for a moment.

She pushed down the hood and frowned at her hair. It was no longer the short curly mop she'd worn as a novice and something needed to be done to keep it tidy. She reached for a brush and worked at it until it was lying smoothly down her back. It reached almost to her shoulder blades and couldn't be left loose, as it was prone to tangling in the slightest breeze. She thought for a moment, then rapidly twisted it into a single thick plait. She borrowed one of Akkarin's leather thongs to tie off the end.

She stared at herself for a few moments longer, before turning away with a shrug. She had to wear these garments, there was no choice. I'd better get used to them!

She went downstairs and out into the garden, where Justen was playing. She watched him for a moment. He was sprawled full length on the grass, leaning over the edge of a small pond, watching the fish.

Justen? she sent gently.

He looked up immediately and scrambled to his feet, running over and grabbing her hand. She smiled down at him, Justen, we will be leaving in a few minutes. You will practice the little exercises while we're away, won't you?

He nodded cheerfully. She and Akkarin had devised some simple little mental tasks for Justen to do which would help him control his magic. He enjoyed mental puzzles and had enthusiastically worked his way through the most basic already. There would be opportunities to visit Justen, she was sure, so she could work out some others and have them ready for when he needed more.

Justen looked over her shoulder and smiled. Sonea turned to find Akkarin coming out into the garden, a tall, black clad figure which brought back so many memories. He had kept his sea-captain's small beard and his long hair was tied back with a leather thong rather than the velvet ribbon he'd used before, but the overwhelming impression was that High Lord Akkarin had returned. If his appearance could make her heart beat a little faster, and her throat dry a little, what would it do to the magicians who had voted to send him to almost certain death?

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded and turned to say goodbye to Justen. She kept her emotions under control and managed not to shed any tears. It wasn't as if she was going a long way away, after all. But even that thought didn't offer much comfort. Leaving her child was difficult, but her choice had been made long ago, Akkarin needed her more than her son. Takan will look after him…

Back in the house, Akkarin handed her a cloak. This was deep blue and covered all of her robes. Akkarin had a similar one. The King didn't want news of magicians visiting him to leak out until he was ready to reveal his plan. It didn't take long to reach the Palace. They were expected and the King's Secretary was already waiting to take them to the King. Still wrapped in their all-concealing cloaks, they were led through the Palace to the King's private study. Here they were finally able to remove the cloaks. There were refreshments laid out for them. Sonea poured some raka for herself but Akkarin wouldn't take anything. He sat down and picked up one of the books lying on a table and began to flick through it.

Sonea sipped the raka and tried to practise one of Yikmo's calming exercises. Now they were finally ready to embark on the mission to save the Guild, she was becoming increasingly nervous. What if Balkan refused to accept them? What if assassins got close to Akkarin? What if there was no place for her? Her thoughts ran out of control and kept flashing through her mind ceaselessly until she wanted to scream. She forced herself to remain calm, sipping the raka in the hope that the beverage would have its usual effect on her nerves.

The door opened and Merin came in. He was dressed in his Court finery, so unlike the rather ordinary figure she had met at the hunting lodge. She and Akkarin bowed, his made with his usual grace, while hers felt awkward. I'm not meant for close associations with royalty, she thought ruefully. It's bad enough being a Guild magician with all their rules and regulations!

"I have arranged for the High Lord to have an audience with me this morning," Merin said brusquely. "He will be here shortly. I want you to wait outside until I have explained about my right to have a King's Magician in the Guild….."

"He doesn't know?" Sonea interrupted, her voice giving away the degree of surprise she felt.

Merin stared at her frostily, "Not yet."

He turned his attention back to Akkarin, "As I was saying, you will wait until I send for you. You," he looked at Sonea, "will not be part of the meeting. You may wait in the gallery where you can see and hear what goes on, but you will not, under the pain of my greatest displeasure, make any sound or give any sign you are there. Is that clear?"

She felt the hot colour flood her face as she murmured agreement. Another black mark against her as far as the King was concerned. She was only here on sufferance and she must avoid at any cost the risk of being sent away.

A page showed her to the gallery. It was a wide balcony running the width of the King's Council Chamber. There was a long table in the centre of the room, set round with carved chairs. The King's chair at the head was more ornate, almost like a throne, with padded seat and arms. As Sonea watched, a number of servants came in and out of the Chamber, setting out papers as well as putting jugs of water and fruit juice on the table. Then, as quickly and as quietly as they'd arrived, they all vanished, leaving the room empty.

Sonea was sitting on a stool, in the corner of the gallery, partially hidden from sight by a large hanging. She had a good view of the room and was sure of hearing any discussion. Before long, the double doors were flung open and she saw High Lord Balkan in his unfamiliar white robes stalk into the room. He was accompanied by Osen, in the blue robes of the Administrator. She hadn't seen him before dressed in what she still regarded as Lorlen's colour. She was in two minds about Osen, he had tried to be kind to her during the journey to the border, urging her to remain in the Guild, but she was unhappy with the alacrity with which he had taken Lorlen's position.

She watched as Balkan grumbled a little about the lack of the sweet white wine he favoured and Osen rushed to fill his glass with juice. They sat down next to each other to the right of the King's chair. Balkan had aged since she had seen him last. His complexion had a yellow tinge and his hair was thinner than she remembered. Although magicians didn't age as quickly as ordinary people, Balkan hadn't seemed to benefit from this advantage. She supposed that trying to run the Guild had taken its toll.

Suddenly the double doors opened, and Merin walked in. Both magicians leapt to their feet and bowed. The King waved them to their seats as he took his place. He was carrying a bundle of papers which he placed carefully down in front of him. After a few moments of social small talk, the King cleared his throat.

"I particularly wanted to see you, High Lord, to discuss my ancient right to nominate a King's Magician to the ruling Council of the Guild."

"King's Magician, Your Majesty?" Balkan asked quickly, "I don't think I quite understand."

Merin passed him a parchment and gave the explanation he had previously offered to Akkarin, pointing out the ancient law had never been repealed or challenged and therefore his right to have his own Magician still applied. Balkan's pasty complexion had taken on a reddish tinge and he looked towards his Administrator for help.

Osen examined the paper carefully, then looked up, "It seems perfectly in order, High Lord."

"Did you know of this law, Administrator?"

"I have never seen it before, High Lord, but the seal affixed to it is genuine. The document is old and fragile in places. There can be no doubts about its authenticity."

Balkan started to speak, but Osen carried on, "However, that is not to say that the law has not been overturned in the hundreds of years which have passed since then."

The King held up his hand, stopping the conversation between the magicians.

"My Legal Advisor, together with my Archivist, examined all the documents relating to the Guild and its operations since the time of its foundation to the present day. That law has never been rescinded. Given the concerns raised in our earlier meetings regarding the Guild, together with the reports from our spies in Sachaka, I have decided it is time for me to nominate a King's Magician once more. This will enable me to understand more clearly the situation you are dealing with, High Lord. Have no fear, my Magician will not usurp your rights as leader, he will simply carry out the tasks I shall give him and you will be fully informed of what he is doing."

"Then you have someone in mind, Your Majesty?" Balkan's voice was quiet and although his face appeared calm, Sonea could see the tell-tale signs of a man furious at what he had heard and desperate not to show it.

Merin smiled, a cool, calculating smile, "Yes, I do."

He reached out and rang a small bell. Sonea could see that there was mental communication passing between the magicians, but they were on a very narrow concentrated beam and she could only hear vague murmurings and couldn't distinguish any words at all. However, she could imagine what they were saying and it wouldn't be pleasant. Just wait, she thought with some amusement, until you see who it is!

The door opened and a familiar black-clad figure came into the room. There was an audible gasp from Osen and he made an involuntary movement as if to rise, but just stopped himself in time. Balkan, on the other hand, remained perfectly still, only the whiteness of his face and the tightness of his lips revealing anything of his inner thoughts.

"Lord Akkarin of family Delvon, House Velan, King's Magician," the King announced formally.

"High Lord, Administrator," Akkarin said and bowed, before making his way to the seat on the left-hand side of the King.