The Making of a Mage King: White Star (45 page)

Cordan came up beside Sean and passed him a canteen. Sean took a long draft and passed it to Laon, who drained it the rest of the way. “Well?” he asked.

“We wait,” Sean answered.

So they waited.

After what surely was more than an hour, ten men moved out into the clearing between them and Sean followed suit, allowing Cordan to pick who would fill out his party. After they had covered more than half the distance, Sean and his men dismounted to meet them on a level. He kept his horse with him; he saw nothing wrong with retaining any advantage he could.

As soon as they reached conversation distance, Landaux introduced the council members who had come forward. “This is Cabot, governor of Castrum, and this is Lord Brund. Master Tones remained with the others. Lord Brund, Master Cabot, this is Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin.” After introductions were complete, he stepped back among the others who had come forward.

“So, you’re claiming to be the king,” said the man named Brund. “You’re claiming Ludwyn is dead. You have the look, and you’re wearing a crown, but I see no reason to believe what you say about the rest.”

“He was accepted,” Larry stated at Sean’s shoulder.

The man’s eyebrow rose at Larry’s unsolicited statement. “So, it was said that Ludwyn never weathered the Acceptance, and I heard that no one could wear the crown unless they did, but how do I know you haven’t gone out and made your own crown?”

Sean unslung Soran’s sword from his shoulder and offered it over, displaying the dragon etching for him to see. “This is the only evidence I have on me. I have his horn too, but it’s back with the baggage. If that’s not good enough proof, then you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Brund accepted the big sword and its heavy belt with both hands and a puzzled expression on his face. He scrutinized the full length of the dragon etched there, then he gave it an experimental heft, testing its weight. “Do you actually use this thing, or do you just carry it for show?”

“I’m happy to say that I have had little reason to use it, but I can, and I have. You’re not asking me to show you, are you?” asked Sean.
I wonder if I will have to display myself here like I did in front of General Moselle’s army.

Brund gave him an appraising look that took him in from head to foot and back again. “Maybe later,” he said as he handed the sword back. “If you’re claiming to be king, I suppose you’ll want to do more than just parley out here.”

“Actually, I’m satisfied with your hold here, but I am curious about the escole you have. It sounds interesting; I might want something like it in other cities. Could we see it?”

Brund looked over Sean’s shoulder at the men arrayed under Cordan’s command. “I suppose you’ll want to bring everyone into the city.”

“What would you do?” asked Sean, curious what this brusque man would say.

“I figured,” he said, and turned to stride back to the city.

“My lord,” said Cabot to Brund’s back, “there’s not nearly enough housing for them all.”

“No worries, Master Cabot,” said Sean. “I don’t think I’ll need to stay the night. I’m a little pressed for time.”

The governor gave him an odd look, but offered protest. He simply waved an inviting hand toward his city and accompanied Sean and his men toward the gate. Cordan kept half of the men back to guard the stock and their supplies, and sent the rest to catch up with Sean.

Sean measured his steps to match Cabot’s, and paced the distance to the city gates beside him in silence. With the exception of Larry and Jenny, who walked beside Sean, Laon and his men were mounted, and they arranged themselves around them at such a distance to make Cabot uncomfortable, but not so much so that he would dare to complain. Cabot may have never seen destriers before, but he had surely heard of them, and to have such obvious examples walking so close was intimidating.

By the time they reached the city gates, Cabot was nearly walleyed and sweating visibly, despite the freezing temperature. In passing the gate, Sean noticed that none of the men arrayed in front of the wall seemed inclined to move. They were apparently intending to stay and watch the remainder of Sean’s army, also still arrayed, across the clearing. One man, dressed a bit finer than others standing closest to him, watched them pass into the city. His bright red glow said that he could be a problem if things took a turn for the worse.

Inside the gates, their marching order had to narrow down as curious people pushed to the edges of the street to make room for them. Punír huffed and swung his head from side to side; he didn’t like to be crowded unless he was doing the crowding. Sean twitched his reins and muzzled him so that he couldn’t bite a spectator. The people seemed inclined to keep back, though; from close quarters, the scars were still visible and it served to make the horses look that much more dangerous than the stories could tell. Only six weeks had passed since they had been brought out of their stables, and some of their scars might never be covered with hair.

Brund didn’t lead them to the center of the city. Instead, he led them to one side, toward what may have once been a private home of someone of substance. Now, as soon as they passed the gate to the courtyard, it was obvious it was a school. The central building was four stories tall, and had been added onto since its original construction.

They had been warned of Sean’s impending arrival, and the students were all arrayed on the steps in front of the massive edifice. The glow of their magic was so bright, Sean found himself wishing for a pair of sunglasses, though he knew they wouldn’t do any good. Elders, ostensibly teachers, were with them, and when Sean’s men found places to settle down, they moved forward. Brund made the introductions this time.

Sean learned that there were two teachers responsible for teaching each individual branch of magic, and there were another six who taught the students how to combine the different magics. There were about a hundred and fifty students ranging in age from somewhere around six, to mid-teens at least. With this array of magic before him, Sean was solely dependent on the rumor that his spell trapped anyone who used magic. Without it, he didn’t stand a chance here, even with Laon at his side.

He was greeted warmly enough, considering he was a complete stranger and heavily armed. The teachers briefly explained what they taught, then turned to introduce the students, who still waited patiently. They were introduced by their skill and proficiency level rather than by their individual names, which shortened the task considerably. Once they were introduced, the students were sent back to their rooms, then the headmaster or principal, a man by the name of Gognie, took Sean and a few of his men on a tour of the school. Sean was pleased to learn that they were also taught some basic education as well. There were even classes on astronomy, astrology and herbalism, which surprised Sean, but then again, this wasn’t New York City.

“I was told that classes had been canceled because of the spell I cast on the valley,” said Sean, as they were approaching the front door again. “Have students been sent home?”

“No,” replied Headmaster Gognie. “Quite a few of the students stay here for most of their education. They go home for special occasions, and for the summer to help their parents with planting and harvesting and such. Right now they are in their dormitories, and you’ll have to excuse me, but we don’t show them to anyone.”

“I suppose I can understand that,” said Sean. “Tell me something, how long has this school been in operation?”

“This what?”

Sean waved his hand indicating the entire concept. “This escole. My apologies…I’m just having trouble with the word. How long have you been teaching children how to use their magic?”

“The original owner started taking in children with magical talent nearly seventy years ago now. It helped so much that Lord Brund’s grandfather ordered it continued when he died. I was one of his students, though far from his first. The place has expanded since then, and several of my fellow students have stayed on to teach.”

“Seventy years. Then Lardeain must have known about it.”

“Lardeain…he would be your grandfather, wouldn’t he? I’m sure he knew about it, but he never mentioned it. ‘Course we weren’t much to notice back then.” The old man scrutinized Sean carefully before continuing. “When things blew up at the palace and your uncle took the throne, everyone here held their breaths. The students were dispersed. We all feared he would attempt to destroy any mage he could find to preserve his own superiority, but he scarcely looked this way. May I ask you a question, my lord?”

“Of course,” answered Sean, hoping it was something besides his family history.

“Why are you interested in us? Why did you set a trap for us?”

Sean smiled ruefully and shook his head. “The trap wasn’t set for you. In the district of Besan across the river, there have been quite a number of kidnappings. Young children just beginning to show their magic have been whisked away in the night, and they can’t figure out who is doing it.
That’s
who I laid the trap for. If it doesn’t turn up something soon, I’ll break the spell and you can all breathe a little easier. It’s the best I could think of on short notice. My interest in you is entirely different. I like what you have here. I like what I see. I would like to see something like this in every district. How would you like the job of starting that?”

“Me?” asked the headmaster, surprised.

“Who better? You know how this place is structured. You know everything there is to know about it and what it does. I can’t think of a better man for the job.”

“Is this an order, my lord?”

Sean looked at the dark brown eyes that stared back at him from under their shelf of gray eyebrows. “No, it’s not an order or a law, but it
is
important. What I see here tells me just how important it is. Will you do it?”

The old man hemmed and hawed. “I’ll have to consider carefully; I can’t do it now. I’m not up to that kind of travel in the winter. Every district, you say? Well…”

Sean smiled and clapped the man on the shoulder. “Then you’ll do it, wonderful. I look forward to working with you. I really have to be going; I can still put in a good twenty miles before the sun goes down if I push it.” Sean strode out and mounted up.

Larry rode at his side as they left the city. “Just think, the first king in your family to start up a nationwide school system.”

“Yeah,” said Sean with a grin, “And you get to be the commissioner of sports.”

“What?” exclaimed Larry, further words vanishing with his astonishment.

“And I expect to see inter-district basketball and football championships too,” continued Sean.

“Ach,” was all Larry could manage, and Sean was forced to laugh. Twice in one day; it felt good to laugh.

About the author

Anna lives in the wilderness of Alaska.
  Her connection to the outside world is restricted to a post office that is nearly thirty river miles upriver from where she lives in Skwentna, Alaska, a fixed wireless telephone, and very recently, a internet satellite dish.  She doesn’t own a car since there are no roads.  The end of the closest road is at least sixty river miles downriver.  From there, it’s a taxi to the next town of any size (Wasilla Alaska is on the map too).  Needless to say, she doesn’t go to town very often!