Disclaimer – I do not own BMT world, it belongs to Trudi Canavan
Burial
Sonea watched the tall figure of Akkarin make its way through the Food Hall and then disappear through the doors. She sighed. How she missed the quiet breakfasts in the Residence, with only Takan to interrupt them. This morning there had been a constant stream of magicians walking past their table, some staring at them with the usual hostility, but most with curiosity. From snatches of hastily suppressed but excited mental communication, she knew that many were looking forward with great anticipation to the Hearing which would follow the funerals.
She decided what she needed was a good long bath. She went back to her rooms, grabbed her soap and towels and went for a relaxing soak in the hottest water she could stand. She emptied her mind of everything and just lay in the steaming water, letting all her worries float away. It was only when someone banged on the door and asked when the room would be free, that she reluctantly climbed out. Then it was back to the Hall for the ceremonies which would accompany the burials of Balkan and Osen.
The Guild had forgotten what was involved in the burial of dead magicians. Since it had abandoned higher magic centuries ago, magicians' bodies simply vanished in the release of magic at their deaths. Now, however, it was faced with burials not only of two drained, and therefore intact, magicians, but drained magicians of the highest rank. There was a strong wish to bury them with all the honour and ceremony appropriate not only to their rank, but also to reflect their sacrifice. But no one was really sure what would be the right thing to do.
She knew from something Akkarin had said, that since the fate of Balkan and Osen had been known, researchers had been delving into ancient texts to find the right words and actions and part of her was curious about how the ceremony would unfold. She guessed it would be long and possibly tedious, but there was something exciting about being at the first burial of a magician for hundreds of years.
Teams of gardeners had been set the task of taming the weed-covered old burial ground and two fresh graves had already been dug, ready to receive the bodies. After the coffins had been placed in the ground, vast marble monuments would be erected over them. Sonea had overheard many conversations where magicians had admitted the idea of having a grave where mourners could visit was attractive. Now that there was an official Discipline for Black Magicians, even if there were only two at present, many magicians were beginning to say they would like their magic drained just before death, and a traditional burial, rather than disappearance during the release of magic. Perhaps I will become the Guild's official Drainer of Magic for Dying Magicians, she thought with no little amusement, that at least would provide some sort of occupation.
She feared that her life in the Guild would be one of long periods of inactivity interspersed with battles when the Ichani next chose to attempt conquest. The prospect did not attract her. Come to think of it, her mind said tartly, what will Akkarin do? Sonea could not see thatthere really be a role for the King's Magician with no threat from the Ichani and the Guild working well under its new High Lord. All of a sudden, she was sure she wanted to go back to her life in the Steelbelt Ranges. There was Justen to train and plenty of opportunities for further study, especially as Justen grew older and more confident in his magic. Akkarin will get all the books he needs and we will be safe there.
She slipped into a seat, well away from the popular spots. She could see only a little of what went on at the front, but she could hear clearly, and that to her was the most important thing.
The Hall filled rapidly. The magicians were subdued and there were many who were weeping. Sonea was surprised at this because Balkan had not been a particularly popular High Lord, except among those he favoured. Osen, too, had been regarded as a devious Administrator, part of Balkan's spy network and he was seen as partisan. She was at a loss to explain the grief she sensed all around the Hall. The only explanation she could think of was that the manner of their deaths had somehow cleansed the two magicians' reputations of all their negative aspects and people only remembered the good things about them.
If Akkarin had died defending the Guild, would he be remembered now as a hero? Would the Guild have built monuments to his memory? Would the King have decreed national mourning? Sonea pondered these questions. Judging by the way Balkan and Osen have been mourned and the plans for monuments to honour them, then I think the answer would be 'yes', she decided. Her mind built up a picture of an enormous statue of Akkarin, perhaps sited outside the Guild gates where people would bring flowers and tributes. Or perhaps, the statue would be placed in the centre of Imardin, to reflect his saving of the city? She thought of herself, alone without Akkarin. Would I take flowers to lay before his statue? Would I spend hours looking at his face and remembering?
Her day dreaming was soon brought to an end. The sounds of doors opening heralded the start of the proceedings and they proved to be as tedious as Sonea had feared. After the procession had deposited all the high ranking magicians in their places, one after another of them rose and spoke long eulogies in rather archaic language, extolling the virtues, real and imagined of the two men now lying in their biers.
Even people known to be opposed to Balkan's regime joined in. The only high ranking magician who did not speak was Akkarin. Sonea could just see him sitting quietly right at the back of the Higher Magicians' area, staring straight ahead, his face impassive.
Had he been excluded? Sonea was tempted to ask him, but the risk of another overhearing their mental conversation was too great. She contented herself with looking at him and carrying on an imaginary conversation in her head. Anything, she thought, to prevent my listening to the repetitious eulogies!
At last, the speaking stopped and everyone readied themselves for the next part of the proceedings. The procession reformed and as it left the Hall, the rest of the congregation streamed out after them. The walk to the old cemetery didn't take long and the space was just big enough for them all to stand inside. She noticed Lorlen standing by a tree and went over to join him.
He seemed pleased to see her and they exchanged a few words until the next stage of the burial began. Again there were speeches from some of those who had known the two men best. After the first one, Sonea stopped listening. Although she acknowledged the bravery of the two magicians in the final minutes of their lives, she could not forgive either of them for the way they had treated Akkarin and the lies they had told about his actions. The legacy of those lies lingered and would make his life difficult if he chose to remain at the Guild.
At last it was all over. Magic was used to raise the coffins and lower them into the ground. More power was used to lift the huge marble monuments so that they sealed the graves. As people watched, letters appeared, carved into the marble, listing the men's achievements and telling the story of their sacrifice.
Once the carvings were finished, people began to leave, but Sonea and Lorlen lingered in the old burial ground. Soon they were alone. They wandered amongst the graves, their marble gravestones so old and weather-beaten that it was almost impossible to read the names.
"I found this place when I was a novice," Sonea said, breaking the silence between them. "I couldn't understand why everything was so old. Then someone explained about the release of magic, but I still wondered why these particular magicians had not disappeared at the moment of death. No one could or would answer that question. It was only later, when Akkarin explained about higher magic and how power could be drained from a dying magician to preserve his body that I understood."
Lorlen gave a little laugh, "You have always been so curious, Sonea. I have been in the Guild since I was a boy and never even thought about such a thing. Oh, I knew the graveyard existed, but I never wondered for even a moment why magicians had been buried in it."
"That's because you were used to magic, the Guild and everything. There was no need for you to question anything. But me? I was a dwell and no one I knew had magic. I didn't grow up listening to stories about magicians or magic. All I knew of the Guild came from watching the Purges and they didn't encourage me to find out more! When I became a novice, I determined to find out everything I could, so that no one could accuse me of being ignorant. Anyway it suited me to go off on my own, away from the other novices. They mostly hated me anyway so I got used to ferretting around, finding out things."
"It was ferretting around which got you into all that trouble with black magic, wasn't it?" Lorlen said soberly. "If you hadn't broken into the Guild to see what went on here, you would not have seen Akkarin and I would not have read it in your mind."
Sonea nodded, "There was a time, a fairly long time, when I bitterly regretted seeing what I saw. I hated being in the Residence, I hated Akkarin for forcing me to live there. But, then my feelings began to change. I realised that I would never have come to know Akkarin or fallen in love with him, if I hadn't seen him all those years before, so it was for the best in the end."
"You are really happy, Sonea?" Lorlen asked earnestly.
She smiled, remembering, "Oh yes, I am very happy. There is very little I would change in my life. There's Justen, of course. I would like him to be a normal little boy, but he has never known anything different so he doesn't let it upset him."
"And is Akkarin happy?" Lorlen asked.
She thought about it for a moment, then murmured, "I think so. He doesn't say so, but I think he is content."
"What will happen now, will Akkarin stay?"
She laughed, "Sometimes I am sure he will, then something happens, or something he says gives me pause, and I am sure he will not. I cannot predict anything Akkarin does or does not do. We will have to wait and see."
"And you, Sonea, do you want to stay?"
"I really don't know. I miss our home in the mountains, the life we have there – the peace, the days of work and study. Yet, when I was there, I longed for something exciting to happen. I wanted to be in Imardin again, I wanted people, and noise and bustle. I even wanted the Guild…"
Her voice trailed away and Lorlen moved to lay a hand on her arm, "I'm sorry…." he began, but Sonea shook her head. "It's nothing you've said, Lorlen. I have been thinking these things for some time now, my mind doing its usual trick of going round and round in circles."
"You have to talk about this with Akkarin, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I know. I'm just waiting for the right moment but if the past is anything to go by, the right moment never comes along until it is much too late!"