The Making of a Mage King: White Star (16 page)

Laon had vouched that Sean likely wasn’t interested in taking prisoners, so the survivors were sent home, but home wasn’t an option for some of them. Like the one girl who had spoken to him, all the nearly twenty children either had no families, or their families refused to take them back. Shielded or not, their families and friends feared them. For that matter, Sean was sure the entire town feared all of them.

Sean turned to his friends gathered at the table for ideas. Their few suggestions were unsatisfactory, so he went to talk to the kids.

The innkeeper had housed them in what he called the common room in the attic. It was a room where guests could buy a bed for the night rather than a whole room. The innkeeper had insisted that their door be locked and guarded, or they could go somewhere else. Sean had the guard unlock the door, and, followed by Cordan, Larry and Laon, he entered the room.

Sean’s entrance didn’t cause much of a stir. Only a few of the room’s occupants could bring themselves far enough out of their shells to raise their heads and see who had entered. The rest of them were in varying degrees of coil as they wallowed under Sean’s shield and struggled with the sudden lack of guild control.

Nineteen small bodies were in the room; all of them dressed in the same plain, gray shift the girl yesterday had worn. There had not been enough beds for half of them, but the room was warm and they didn’t seem any worse for their confinement. Sean saw that more than one bed held two, three and even four children as they huddled together like lost puppies.

Sean had a guard remove the chamber pot from the corner and stepped farther into the room to sit down on the foot of the nearest cot.

The girl he had talked to yesterday seemed to be one of the few in the room capable of functioning; she might have been the oldest one in the room too. “You didn’t use any magic,” she said, as she watched the guard disappear with the chamber pot.

“I use quite a lot of magic during the normal course of events; I don’t need to use it for the little things too,” said Sean when he noticed where her eyes had looked.

One of the youngest boys shuddered and started crying. The girl pulled him into her arms. “What are you going to do with us?” she asked as she rocked the boy.

“What do you
want
me to do with you?” asked Sean.

She looked around at her companions. “We can’t stay here,” she said simply.

“Why can’t you go home?” asked Sean. “You said your father was afraid of you.”

“Yes, that’s the way it is for some of us; some of us don’t have any family left, only the memory of having destroyed them.” She looked down at the boy in her arms. “Some of us… Our families fear for our safety if we try to stay.” She took a deep breath. “We didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t stop what was happening.”

“I know,” said Sean. “I’m sorry.”

“You could take us with you,” she suggested hopefully. “You’re a stranger here. You’re not staying, are you?”

Sean was afraid she was going to get to that. The alternative was to turn them into a cluster of street urchins forced to sell their bodies for food, or forced to steal, and if they were ever caught, their fate would be so very much worse than a common thief or whore might expect. Sean toyed with the idea of talking to their families; he might be able to decrease their numbers by a few, but that still left the rest of them.

He looked at the little boy in the girl’s arms.
Had he been instrumental in the destruction of his family?
Sean saw a delicate red glow streaked with light blue.
Had he been able to fan his flames wherever he wanted?

“You’re just kids,” Sean said, agonizing over the dilemma. “How old are you anyway, twelve? I can’t afford to remove your shields, not yet anyway.”

Tears glittered in her eyes, but Sean could tell by the set of her shoulders that she would take whatever he dished out, and cry later.

“We can still work,” said an older boy, as he pulled himself upright on his cot. His voice was hoarse and strained. “My…” He struggled with himself. “My ma… She used to insist…” Sean watched his jaw clench at a memory that was laced with pain. His face was thin and aged beyond his tender years, though he looked to be among the oldest here.

Sean looked around at them. The youngest, the boy who was crying, looked to be maybe seven. He looked at Cordan; he would be the one who’d have to deal with them most of the time.

Cordan shrugged. “We might be able to find them apprenticeships in other cities. We might need other mages, too, somewhere along the line.”

Sean raised an eyebrow, remembering the mage attacks from the rooftops. Other magical defenses would have been nice. He looked back at the room full of kids. “Okay, we’ll leave in the morning.” He turned back to Cordan. “See that they are properly dressed and mounted.” Sean stood and looked at the two who had spoken, they appeared to be among the oldest in the room. “I have to cover a lot of distance in a very short amount of time, so I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told others who wanted to follow me. If you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you behind.”

“We’ll keep up,” said the boy, as he sat up straighter.

Sean looked at him. “The shields stay.”

“Fine,” he said.

Sean didn’t think he was too willing to use magic again, not for a while anyway. He’d want it soon enough; earth magic was very useful at times.

Sean’s men were still a thick presence in the city, so it wasn’t hard for a group of five gray-haired men looking for their leader, to find the right inn before the morning was half gone.

Sean was considering getting more sleep, or perhaps another plate of food, as he waited for his latest orders to be carried out.

Now that there was a clear trail to the camp, Sean had sent men back there to bolster the guard. Larry and Cordan were out gathering the necessary items for his new followers. Laon was out looking for his horse and getting his sword reground. Even Jenny and Mattie were out restocking some of their smaller supplies.

When the men came in, Sean knew instantly they might be a problem. “We are the city council and we demand to know your intentions,” said the man in the center of the group, speaking to the room at large, while trying to identify who might be in command. About a dozen men were scattered around the room, and it was obvious that none of them were locals, but it was impossible to tell who was in charge.

Everyone in the room openly gaped at the newcomers. To Sean, they looked like a group of men who had bolstered their courage enough to make a grab for the position they claimed. It looked like they were in need of baths too, as if they had just rushed in from their farms, or perhaps crawled out from under their rocks.
Well, I do need something to fall back on. If Guet can’t take up his position as
ruihano
, if these men can show me they know something of what they are asking for… I’ll see what they have to say.

Sean stood slowly. “Have a seat, gentlemen.” He waved them to chairs at one of the larger tables and then lounged irreverently in a chair across from them. He waved the innkeeper over. “I’ll have a tall glass of milk and a plate of meats, and bring these gentlemen whatever they want.” Sean figured his visitors would at the very least order beer, but he knew that if he drank any he’d be yawning within minutes.

The spokesperson of the group nodded, though he looked confused by what he saw; Sean was the only man in the inn who wasn’t wearing armor. In fact, he had yet to wear anything that had his crest on it in this city, and at the moment, he could have been mistaken for the son of a common farmer, though perhaps one of the wealthier farmers. His lack of armor made him look like the youngest person in the room, which he probably was. The only thing that might indicate his authority was his crown. Despite the fact that he wore it most of the time, Sean had never required his men to show him any more deference than they showed Cordan or Larry, and the innkeeper followed suit.

Sean let the men gather their thoughts while the innkeeper took their order for beer and left to retrieve the drinks. By the time the drinks arrived, they were starting to get restless. Sean took a few sips of his milk, then ‘added’ a handful of ice cubes into the glass before reaching for a piece of meat.

The man sitting directly across the table gasped when he realized what Sean had just done. “You’re…you’re one of…one of…them.”

“You didn’t really think I could walk in on your guild of mages armed only with a sword, did you?” asked Sean. He liked keeping people guessing about him, it made them easier to read.

“Well no, of course not,” replied the speaker, “But we can’t afford to have another guild, not when it turns into something like…” he waved his hand vaguely, “…something like that.”

Sean looked closely at the man. He had been used hard by the guild. Maybe he had lost family to them. “The guild was very useful at first. It protected you and your city from the tender attentions of my uncle. From what I can gather, none of your people were taken away from here. You were not forced to take in any demons and I’m willing to bet you haven’t paid any of your taxes since my uncle took control, though I don’t think the rest of the district was so lucky. Defeating my uncle…”

“That devil Ludwyn was your uncle? Who are you?” asked the man across the table from Sean, interrupting him with his revelation.

“My name is Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin, my father was Prince Deain Ruhin and my mother was Lady Kassandra Barleduc,” he recited. He was getting to the point where he really wished he didn’t have to use his full name; it was such a mouthful, but it was necessary. Perhaps he would be able to come up with a simpler name for his son.

“How can we be sure what you say is true? There are a million rumors about what happened to the royal family,” countered the speaker as he leaned close over his untouched beer.

Sean pulled back from thoughts of his son’s name. He looked at the man critically for a few minutes then shrugged. His ancestor’s great sword, as well as the horn, appeared in the middle of the table. “Is this proof enough, or do you require something more?”

The men reared back in their seats at the appearance of the artifacts as if they might turn into snakes and bite them. Their reaction gave Sean the idea, but he resisted the urge, though he wasn’t so successful in fighting down a small grin.

The speaker slowly reached out a hand and touched a finger to the dragon etched on the sword. His face went very pale; he turned so white that Sean thought for a minute he might faint.

When he reached for the horn, his hand was shaking. He touched the gold dragon that crawled over its surface with a tentative finger; the six colored flames curled out of its mouth and engulfed the larger end. It was beautiful to look at.
My wife made… No, it wasn’t
my
wife.
Bubbles of memories pop once in awhile, but Sean
knew
his wife had made that horn out of the battle horn he had used to rally his men at the pass. It was odd, thinking of himself this way. He could clearly picture the people and the event, though it was only a snapshot of the life it had come from.

Sean looked up from the man’s trembling fingers to see Guet being ushered into the room, followed by his family. Guet’s son-in-law looked tons better with a few meals in his belly, some hours of good sleep and some clean clothes. His son looked better too; he was standing proud anyway, and the haunted look in his eyes wasn’t as noticeable.

“You’re not doing anything we’re all going to regret later, are you, Baldwin?” asked Guet.

The man, Baldwin, snatched his hand back from the horn and turned to see who had spoken. “Guet,” he exclaimed. He launched himself out of his chair and the two men crashed together like they couldn’t get enough of each other. “I thought you were dead.”

They pushed apart. “Where the hell have you been?” asked Guet, as he appraised Baldwin’s condition.

Sean cleared his throat, gently reminding them of the talks that were already underway, then he nonchalantly took another sip of his milk, now quite cold.

The man called Baldwin pulled Guet to the table. “This is my brother. I haven’t seen him for years,” said Guet.

“About fifteen years, I should think,” said Sean. Now he knew why the man looked so worn. “You were burned out weren’t you? How did you escape?”

Baldwin sat back down. “Has it been that long?” He looked up at the boy, Berck, then at Guet’s daughter and her husband, Marcq, who was a stranger to him, and yet he held the little girl. “I’ve missed so much.” He frowned, then turned to Sean to answer his question. “I think it was your uncle’s third or fourth advance. My son stepped in and took up the reins, and I was allowed to wander away unnoticed during the commotion.” He indicated the men who had come with him. “These men were my advisers and friends at the time. They took me to a healer; there was nothing he could do, but they kept me hidden.” His shoulders slumped and he reached up to pinch his brow. “By the time I could get along by myself, Dunkan had changed things…
he
had changed; he wanted more power. He still kept Ludwyn at bay; to that end he’d started to round up more mages. At some point, he offered a reward for my return. Two of my men returned to tell him where I was, but when they admitted to hiding me to keep me safe, he tortured them somehow. Only one of them escaped with his life, though he didn’t live much longer.” Baldwin looked even more diminished. “I never would have thought my own son…”