The Making of a Mage King: White Star (30 page)

Though he never made a move or said a word to anyone, by the time dawn arrived, everyone was walking on eggshells around him. Horses were saddled and their supplies were loaded before the top edge of the sun had cleared the eastern horizon. Forgoing even a cold breakfast, they prepared to leave.

The activity of moving camp helped Sean’s mood, and by the time Prince’s saddle was perched on top of one horse and his armor tied onto another saddle, he was more than willing to open a gate.

Loading his saddle, however, reminded him of how valuable their gear was; it reminded him of the days he had taken to make much of it himself. They stepped out in the place where Ludwyn had lost his. He’d given it scarcely a glance in passing before. Three leg bones from the knees down, and a hoof and fetlock protruded from the stone. The rest of the bones and gear lay some yards away. After more than a week, little remained that scavengers hadn’t savaged, and the smell was ghastly despite being frozen. Finding nothing worth salvaging, they went the rest of the way to camp.

Sean was careful to open the gate several hundred yards from camp. After his first efforts at the palace, he didn’t want to risk opening the gate where someone might accidentally be. He had no idea what might happen, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

Their entry into camp was greeted with cheers, and it did much to lighten Sean’s gloomy mood.

Manuel ran up, and throwing all of his gruff formality to the wind, he pulled Sean into a big bear hug that almost knocked him from his feet. Laughing and suddenly embarrassed at his less-than-proper behavior, he said, “Uh…pardon me, my lord, but I’m that happy to see you back safe and whole.”

The greeting was enough to wipe the rest of Sean’s dark thoughts away. “Good to be back, Manuel. I hope my absence hasn’t caused any problems.”

“None as wasn’t normal,” said Manuel. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands. “Lady Lorraine sends a messenger out every day to ask after you. That’s about the biggest excitement of the day without you here.”

“Well, we won’t have to worry about that much longer. Ready the men, we’ll be moving on in the morning,” said Sean. His plan was to spend the day regrouping. Lady Lorraine was firmly where she belonged and needed to concentrate on her business over and above entertaining him.

He led the two horses that carried his gear over to his tent and started to unload them. Larry was there, and Paddn appeared in time to help him unload his armor. Charles, who had arrived with Paddn, led the horses away once they were free of Sean’s things.

“Pardon me, my lord,” said Manuel, “but I agree with the lady. You need to be seen by the people. You should go. What you’re doing is good, but you need to be the one to take credit for it. You have already been seen, and even felt, down in the valley, but I’m willing to bet that very few people up here know more than a rumor about you, and I hate to think it, but how many of those touched with magic did you cast adrift up here in the mountains? How many that only went a little batty, but couldn’t make it to the capital before it was over? What happened to them? You need to be seen, sir.”

Sean stifled a groan. “Manuel, are you telling me that I need to stop hopping across the country?” It seemed as though a ticking clock was echoing in the back of his brain.

Manuel shifted uncomfortably, but held his ground. “I wouldn’t be so bold as to tell you what to do, but…well…perhaps at least ride through the more populated lands. The people need to see you.”

“I’ll think on it,” said Sean, as he saw Elias and his brother approaching. For the first time in a long time, he longed for his simple life back in New York City where the only time he had to put himself on display was when he participated in the tournaments, and even then, he was only one among many contestants. Manuel bowed his way out of further discussion, and Sean turned to his gear.

Paddn was holding the twisted shoulder piece and he touched the gem with a shy finger. “What happened to this?” he asked, as Elias picked up another piece and waited for the response.

“I’m not all that sure,” replied Sean. “Part of it anyway is from when Prince fell over on me, but that’s not all of it. There’s more damage than just that, but I don’t remember anything else.”

“Are you going to take it to a smithy?” asked Gérard.

“I was thinking that I might fix it here, with magic. Would you like to help?” he asked Paddn.
I wonder if the boy is missing his magic yet
.

“That would take fire magic, wouldn’t it? I was never very good with fire,” replied Paddn.

“I suppose it would, some,” said Sean. “I’ve never done it before.”

“My uncle was a blacksmith,” said Paddn, with an odd expression in his eyes. “When I was little, he used to say I’d apprentice with him when I was big enough.” He took a deep breath, purposefully skipping over uglier memories attached to the topic. “He told me there was a way to heat up, then cool down the metal that made it tougher, otherwise it was just metal.”

Sean took the shoulder piece; Mattie’s grandmother had given it to him. It was scraped and dented, the linked sections that had covered his shoulder and arm were hanging from broken links, and the metal band that extended across his back had been twisted almost as if a giant had crumpled it in its fist. The leather strap that held it all in place was somewhere in the pile with the rest of his armor. “I don’t know; we’re not
making
armor, so the temper is already there. We’ll just be straightening out the kinks.” He brushed the band flat between his hands, then handed it back to Paddn. “What do you think?”

Paddn set aside the breastplate he’d picked up and took the piece Sean handed to him. As he was looking at it, Sean noticed Kendal standing frozen about a dozen yards away, staring at them with wide eyes. “Kendal, come on over. How’ve you been?” Almost as if he had been caught staring, Kendal moved forward hesitantly. It seemed like his eyes got wider the closer he got. “What’s the matter, Kendal?”

“I just heard… You killed… You almost… They said…”

Sean covered the rest of the distance between them, picking up the boy in a hug that was just as desperate as Manuel’s had been. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Everything is fine.”

Kendal clutched at him as if he were the breath of life itself. “I was so afraid,” he said in a small voice.

“Don’t be afraid, Kendal. I’m very strong and I need to be here for a while yet.” He continued to hug the boy until he felt the pressure let up. Holding him so he could look in his eyes, he said, “Have you been practicing with Laon while I was away?”

The boy’s face lit up; his fears had been proven false and now they could be discarded. “Wait ‘til you see!” He squirmed down and was off almost before Sean had let go of him. When Sean didn’t follow him, he turned and called, “Come on,” and waved him to follow.

Sean, Larry, Elias, Gérard, and Paddn followed to find Laon working with the new men, the knights. They were mounted and working their horses through a complicated routine that looked like they were defending some central point from a major offensive, or doing a square dance. Every move was punctuated by a barking yell that echoed across the valley. Somehow, Sean strongly suspected that he would be that central point if anything ever came at them.

As Kendal ran up, Laon called a halt and dismounted. He had seen the boy and the others who followed. He hadn’t noticed Sean’s return or heard the cheers over the noise of their own endeavors here on the far side of camp. He dropped his reins to the ground and gave the horse a curt command, then he was striding toward them with a long-legged purpose when little Kendal caught his sleeve and whispered something to him. He smiled and nodded, then waved the boy off. Kendal ran back past Sean; he was so excited his feet scarcely touched the ground. Laon covered the rest of the distance at a more sedate pace.

“I can see you’ve been busy since I’ve been away. I’m impressed,” said Sean as the man got closer.

Laon’s aspect changed under the praise. “It has been a group project. We have worked very hard and have developed several plans.”

“Great, just remember that nothing ever happens as planned. Try to stay flexible. What is it that Kendal wants to show me?”

In answer, Kendal ran up again with two swordsticks and handed one to Laon. For the next half hour, Sean watched little Kendal match swords with Laon, and aside from the fact that he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, he was very obviously learning. Teaching Kendal had also helped Laon, since he was forced to notice small things and take care with the force he used, without sacrificing the precision.

After that, Sean was obliged to watch Laon put his men through their paces, and Kendal kept up a running commentary about what they were doing. The child’s voice did much to unwind nerves that had been knotted since seeing the dismembered body of his uncle and then his horse, and he
was
impressed with what he saw. Real combat would be the test to tell if these lessons would hold.

Laon had already had them working hard for a couple hours before Sean had showed up, so as soon as the demonstration was finished, he dismissed them and each of them gave Sean a deep bow as they filed by.

Sean went back to his tent with Laon at his usual place by his shoulder. Much of his gear had been put away for him, but the sight of his twisted armor reminded him that men had died here too. “Men were killed. Who were they? What did you do with the bodies?” he asked.

Laon named off four men, but no faces came readily to Sean’s mind; when his report indicated that identifying the men had only been possible by roll call, thus finding out who was missing, he was glad they had been buried quickly. Since that first death, Sean had promised himself he would send his casualties home to their families. However, in this case he wouldn’t want their families to see them in that condition.

Sean spun on his heels and called his father, who had halted by the fire. “Dad?” When Elias came the rest of the way from the fire to where he stood, Sean said, “Are you ready to go back to the palace?”

“I was just getting used to the excitement,” said Elias.

Sean gave him the four names. “Express my regrets to their families. Find some plausible excuse for my not sending them home.”

“When you get there,” continued Sean, “tell Ferris to pack up. He deserves a break. Let him know I’ll pick him up this evening in time for supper,” said Sean. When Gérard stepped up beside his brother, Sean sent them to the palace.

While he had been talking to Elias, Laon had finished moving Sean’s gear into the tent. Moving the armor had been especially unsettling for him. When Sean had finished, he said, “I’ll send for a smith from the city…”

“Don’t bother; thanks anyway. I’ll fix them myself.” Then his eyes fell on the forlorn saddle. “You can, however, go into the city and see if you can find a horse for me.”

“That won’t be necessary, my lord. I’m sure Frezon will give up his with no complaint. He tries hard, but he’s afraid of the beast; that’s never a good combination.”

“If he’s afraid, why did you put them together?” asked Sean.

“He wanted to try; he does all right and says nothing, but I can see it.”

Believing everyone should be able to try, Sean asked, “How about we ask for a voluntary resignation of a horse?”

“My lord, they would all willingly offer you their horse. It would be a race to see who brought their offering to you first.”

Sean groaned; he didn’t want that, it would cause too much confusion, but he also didn’t want Frezon to feel demoted because of his need for a horse. They had plenty of other horses that were easy enough to commandeer. He just needed something to ride.

As it turned out, the fact that Sean had lost his horse was news that would make it through camp every bit as fast as the fact that he had defeated the old king. Sean was just finishing with his armor when the man came to see him.

The man bowed and spoke. “My lord, I’m Frezon and I…um…heard that you lost your horse. When you wanted to bring the destriers back from the city, you asked for volunteers to replace some of the knights who had…other obligations. Um…” He was unsure how to proceed. “I have decided that I would much rather return to the ranks. Them horses is just too big,” finished Frezon.

Sean looked him over. “There were two volunteers that were to take the extra destriers; where’s the other one?”

“Coser’s horse went nuts, my lord. Seth had him destroyed,” he answered, and backed away a few steps.

“Well then, I suppose we should go meet my new horse,” said Sean.
So we lost another horse. Apparently, they didn’t change riders very easily, regardless of how they’re treated. I’ll have to remember that.
A significant part of a warhorse’s training is fierce and undying loyalty to one man, and this one in particular would now be working on his third rider, not to mention the torture at the hands of men who had been a large part of that training. It was understandable that he might be…a little intractable. Though the signals were all the same, or close enough to be of little consequence, each man had a different touch. Using magic where needed in order to protect himself from the creature’s teeth and hooves, Sean saddled the horse and mounted.

He soon found that it would take a lot of work before the horse would accept him without protesting, and a great deal more work before he would be loyal to him, if that would
ever
be achieved.
Well, I’ve always liked a challenge.