The Making of a Mage King: White Star (40 page)

Sean made the blankets disappear, and Armelle squeaked again. “What do you want to wear?”

“I’ll be wearing a dress, thank you very much, but it needs to be far more practical than that ‘hussy’ dress. I
am
going to be riding a horse, after all.”

“I like that hussy dress. I hope you don’t lose it. I hope you wear it for me, often.” He watched, grinning, as she stood up and pulled on her slip. “I don’t know anything about dresses,” he said. “Tell me what you want. Describe it and I’ll make it for you.”

“Well, let’s see; it’s cold, but the sun might be bright and I don’t want to get sunburned; I don’t like red very much.” She jumped and squeaked again. Royal blue velvet crept across her shoulders and caressed her neck under his hands. Soft, white satin reached up and brushed her cheeks. More blue velvet crept down her arms with a wide, white streak of white satin down the outside. The blue velvet touched and held together at a point midway between her shoulder and elbow, then again midway between her elbow and her wrist, then the white satin flowed out over the back of her hand, stopping before it could get in the way of her fingers. The bodice flowed down, leaving the neckline dangerously low, like the red dress, but the delicate skin there was protected by more soft, white satin. The skirt flowed down in soft folds that weren’t nearly as full as the red dress; instead, they were divided for riding. Underneath, unseen by any eye, white satin touched every inch of her legs, and soft leather boots grew up to her knees. He completed her look with a silver necklace that held a gem identical to the one she had made for him to put on his armor, except that it was the size of his thumb and nestled just under the hollow of her throat, only just visible amongst the satin.

Sean pulled his hands away reluctantly. Every inch of satin rested against skin he longed to touch. “What do you think?” he asked huskily. “I’ll take it all off again if you don’t like it.”
If I take it off, I’ll take her right back to bed in a heartbeat and to hell with riding the patrol.

“You said you didn’t know anything about dresses,” she said, grinning. “This is wonderful. What kind of cloth is it? I’ve never seen anything like it before. I love it.” She did a graceful turn to show it off for him. “It’s beautiful.” She swept up to him and pulled him down to kiss him. “Thank you,” she said. “Now you.”

With a sigh, Sean collected his things from where Ferris had them packed. He would miss them when he woke up, and he would probably call then, too. Armelle helped him buckle buckles and lace laces, leaving his skin tingling wherever she touched. Regardless, a few minutes later his grandfather’s swords were buckled around his waist, and Soran’s sword was slung on his back. Armelle handed him his gloves and his crown as he scooped up his helmet, and as he followed her from the room, the fire vanished from the hearth as he closed the door behind them.

Downstairs, Jenny made a fuss over Armelle’s dress, calling it ‘velvet’, while Elias passed around plates of ham and eggs. “I was beginning to wonder if you would get down here in time to eat,” he said with a grin.

Just as they were finishing, a man entered the inn. “Your horses are here, my lord,” he announced.

They were fine horses, but they weren’t the long-legged, heavily muscled creatures of Seth’s herd. After months of riding the big warhorses, they seemed even smaller to Sean, but he didn’t care. He felt like a kid as he shed the cares of the world, if only for a few days.

Riding with General Frei and his officers, Elias didn’t even try to contain Sean as he laughed, raced, and joshed with the men who rode with him. He showed off for his pretty wife, and yet he was always between her and the soldiers who rode with them, making it obvious that, despite his light humor, he would tolerate nothing but the very best behavior toward her.

When they stopped to make camp, Armelle came up to him, flush faced and grinning. “I have to go pee,” she whispered. “You didn’t make any buttons.” It was a very humorous moment enjoyed by Jenny, and now Larry, too. Armelle had gone to Jenny first, thinking the buttons were up the back. In truth, there weren’t even any seams, let alone buttons or even zippers. Sean, giggling the entire time, was forced to alter the dress for her need.

Once camp was set up, Sean offered to spar with anyone who wanted, taking any handicap his opponent chose, laughing all the while as he showed off for Armelle, who cheered him on with glee.

At the stockade, he met hardened soldiers with a warm handshake and an open smile. He had comments for each of them that warmed them to his banner, and left behind confidence in his ability to lead them without them really noticing it.

Frei watched him as he met with the five young commanders and their units. Each unit had what they called a ‘sparker’ and a ‘wing’, meaning at least one man could light the beacon from anywhere within their range, and at least one man could send and receive orders from the stockade, or from the commanding general, General Frei himself, as the case might be. He could also send wounded away to be taken care of behind the lines, thereby relieving the unit of a member who would slow and endanger the rest of them. Other magic was also represented, but those two were the most vital to the unit, and certain minimums had to be exceeded in order to earn the title.

After five nights and six days, Basilia was coming into view, and Sean immediately spotted the new encampment. The weight of the world slid back over his shoulders like a heavy cloak, but he only sighed as he accepted it. It had been good being a kid again; he had needed the break. Now it was time to be a king.

Others had watched for Sean’s party too, and as their horses were led away, two men came striding toward them. Ferris was bursting with fury, and very well
might have led with a fist if he had gotten that far. Laon was only a step behind him, but he was far more restrained. Even he was unprepared for the fury that Ferris radiated, and he increased his pace to put himself between Sean and Ferris.

Sean saw them coming, he saw that Ferris, at least, had not learned his lesson yet. He strode toward them, cold fury bristling from the set of his shoulders, visible despite the heavy cloak he wore. He picked the two men up off the ground letting them dangle, clawing at their throats, their fingers finding nothing but air – air that left no room for breath. “I warned you,” he hissed as he stood between them seeing their struggling forms only with his peripheral vision.

They struggled and kicked. He let them breathe. Frei watched, horrified. He had seen none of this as they had traveled, not even after Sean’s encampment had been spotted. He had not been prepared for the sudden flare of temper from the amiable young man he had just spent the past six days with.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Sean continued in the same quiet hiss. “I warned you that I could kill you if you did. Did you think I was joking?”

Laon closed his eyes and dropped his hands to hang limply, certain that his death was only moments away. Ferris growled. “Put me down,” and felt the invisible hold around his neck tighten again.

“Ludwyn is very much a part of me, Ferris. Can you feel it? I fight it every day, and every time something like this happens, he wins a little more of me.” Sean heaved a heavy sigh, still not looking at them. “Maybe you should stay here. You might live a little longer.” He dropped them unceremoniously and strode on toward the inn.
I need a drink.
Within a half dozen steps, he spoke in Clayton’s ear. “Take Armelle and Elias back to the palace. Take them now, please. I’ll…apologize later.”

Clayton caught Armelle’s arm as she tried to follow Sean, and guided her over to Elias. As soon as he reached him, the three of them were gone without explanation and without warning.

Laon’s limpness had allowed him to land hard on his hands and knees before he caught himself, and he was slow to straighten, but Ferris was still ridged with fury and had landed on his feet with only a slight stagger. Fear was beginning to creep in around the edges though, especially as he watched the young man stalk away, but not enough fear, not yet anyway. With another growl, he started after Sean, but Laon caught his arm in an iron-hard grip. “Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

Ferris tried to pull free and for the first time, he realized why the young man had made such a good bodyguard: he was as immovable as a rock.

Laon gave Ferris a small push, a gentle warning to stay where he was, then he followed Sean himself. He stopped two paces inside the inn’s door and stared at Sean’s back.

“What do you want, Laon?” asked Sean, having never looked around. He tossed back the last of his drink. The innkeeper looked between them once and then vanished into the kitchen.

“I will stay with you, my lord. I will take whatever punishment you wish…” Sean spun and Laon was suspended in the air again. “My life is yours,” he said quickly, before his air was cut off again.

Frei and Larry came in and froze. Sean’s entire frame was shaking with emotion, but the sight of Larry was enough, this time. With him had come the memory of New York City – the memory of high school, of laughter, basketball, Jenny, cheerleading. He tossed Laon high into a corner of the common room, his weight breaking a table and a chair on the way to the floor. “I guess he’s staying; is Ferris?”

“Probably,” said Larry. “Are you all right now?”

“I’m fine,” growled Sean. He looked from his best friend to his general, and back again. “Cordan,” said Sean to the air. “We move in the morning.” He looked at the still-open door between Frei and Larry. “Ferris,” he yelled, “be very careful,” he said only a little less loudly, then he went up to his room.

Behind the closed door, he plumped down on the bed; someone had made it. His new clothes were hanging from a peg by the door next to Armelle’s red dress. He sent the dress to the palace, taking the time to make sure it was carefully arranged on the bed, and not just tossed there. Then he dropped his head in his hands and clawed at his hair.

Larry came in a few moments later to see an apparition of Ludwyn pacing back and forth, gloating, in front of where Sean sat hunched on the edge of the bed. “No, Sean,” he said, as he crouched down in front of him. “Sean, no.” He pulled Sean’s hands out of his hair and gave him a shake that brought his eyes up to his face. “You’re not your uncle, so stop harboring him. Send him away. Let him go.”

Sean looked at him, then he looked past him at the apparition that was laughing now. With a gasp of horror, he did as Larry said, and the apparition dispersed violently. With a shudder, he pulled himself to his feet and Larry stood with him. “I’m… I…uh… I need some air.” He nearly fled from the room.

As he left the inn, he strode past where Ferris was helping Mattie and Jenny with Laon at a table. The stable boys were struggling with the broken table, trying to get it out the back door.



Ferris start after him. Larry caught him this time. “I really don’t think it would be too healthy for him to see you just now,” he said to Ferris.

“What’s the matter with him? I’ve never seen him so…unhinged,” said Ferris.

Larry looked to General Frei, who had been watching it all. “He must be really mad. Did Soran have a temper?”

“Few felt it, young lord, but he did,” admitted Frei. “I think I saw an example of it today. It was rumored that his temper was quiet like that. Stories that talk of his temper say that few people survived it. You are lucky, I think, sir, if Soran had been so angry with you, fists of dirt would be clouding your eyes by now.”

Ferris growled and paced. “He shouldn’t have gone charging off all by himself. He’s the king, for god’s sake. He’ll get himself killed if he can’t control his…his…that…”

“He
is
controlling it, Ferris,” said Larry. “You’re alive. Let him be. And for your information, he
can
take care of himself; he wasn’t brought up as a pampered prince, you know. All he needs the rest of you for is show.” Larry waved a hand toward where the new encampment was so there was no doubt who ‘the rest of you’ was.

“And if I were you,” added Jenny, stepping up beside Larry, “I wouldn’t try to trick him again.”

Ferris growled and stalked off, taking a direction that would lead him back to the encampment.

Jenny led Larry and Frei back to where Laon was sitting at an unbroken table. Mattie was tending a bloody cut on the back of his head, and more blood was pooling around his boot.

“Are you all right, Laon?” asked Larry.

“I’m alive,” replied Laon, from where his head rested on his arms. Blood had trickled down, above as well as below his ear; more had run down his back.

As they helped him to his feet, he kept his eyes shut. “Come on, upstairs,” said Larry. “You can have Clayton’s bed tonight.”



Sean made his way to the northwestern edge of the city, to a point just within hearing of the river. He walked past shops, homes, training grounds, and practice fields without really seeing any of it.

Clear of the clutter and noise of civilization, he gazed up at the mountain range, now white with snow that hadn’t quite reached this far down into the valley. The moons weren’t up yet, and clouds were gathering again.
They might not be visible at all tonight, and this storm might actually leave snow, even here.