The Making of a Mage King: Prince in Hiding

by Anna L. Walls

  Sean dropped his head, then looked around blinking. Tears burned his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. He didn’t know this woman. He didn’t even know her name, but her death tore at still-tender grief.

  Larry finally pulled Sean from her side to make way for a strange woman he hadn’t seen come in. Sniffing and wiping at embarrassing tears, he headed for the door. The boy he had sent for the local healer waited outside. Sean pulled out a whole silver coin and pressed it into his hand. He didn’t care if he made him the richest boy in the village. It was the first coin that came to hand and he wasn’t about to fish around for another.

  The boy’s eyes widened with disbelief at what rested in his small hand.

  “Don’t spend it all in the same place,” Sean said, trying to sound light as he ruffled the boy’s hair. After he ran off with his treasure, Sean turned to walk into the woods on the other side of the lane. He stood there with his back to his friends and let the tears have their way. He knew the others were watching him, but he didn’t care.

  He drew his sword and looked at it, blinking away tears to do so. The man who had given it to him had died like that too; the light was just gone from eyes that still looked at him. He gave the sword an experimental swing or two then drew the short sword too. He had never tried two swords at the same time. He had never thought of it. He just figured, if he lost one, he would have a backup, but like his off-hand knife, it wouldn’t be all that different. Bigger, but not much different.

  At first, all he did was experiment with their feel – swinging them together and then opposite. Then he settled into his remembered exercises, attacking with his long sword while defending with the short one. On and on he worked, trying different combinations and different ideas. Some of them worked and some didn’t – at least not until he figured out a way to make them work. He tuned out his surroundings, his friends, the old woman, death. Nothing existed for him but the swords in his hands and the puzzle of their use.

  A voice penetrated his concentration. “Seanad. Seanad, come on. Sean, can you hear me? You need to stop; it’s time to eat. Everything is ready. We’ll leave first thing in the morning, and you need to get some rest. Sean!”

  It was the last yell that finally got through; the rest of it took form in his memory like a developing photograph. Sean froze at the finish of his last thrust and saw the tip of his sword tremble. His forward leg was shaking too. As he pulled up to stand straight and sheath his swords, his whole body trembled. His lungs were gasping for air and he was drenched with sweat. He had to try twice before he was able to sheath his swords.

  Ferris waited patiently at the edge of the clearing until Sean had gathered himself and walked up to him. “Feel better now?” he asked.

  Sean didn’t answer his question; he was not sure if what he did qualified as making him feel better, but at least he felt looser. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. The mail didn’t absorb any of the sweat running down his face, so he tried again with his palm with better results, if only in diverting the sweat from running into his eyes. “I think I might be paying for it in the morning,” he said ruefully, as he held his hand out in front of him and watched his fingers tremble.

  A tall girl in a plain, homespun dress with her long black hair pulled back into a shiny braid, stepped out from behind a tree. Apparently, she had been watching Sean from her hiding place. Ferris jumped at her appearance, but Sean didn’t have the muscle tension for it. She took the hand Sean held in front of him and knelt at his feet, pressing his knuckles to her forehead. “My lord, I will not make the same mistake my grandmother made. I will come with you. I don’t have the sight like my grandmother, but I know all of her herbs; I even have a little of the touch. I will do anything for you. There is nothing for me here anymore. Please take me with you, please. Please take me with you.”

  Sean just stared at her. His mind was still in its quagmire.

  Ferris shrugged. “One more mouth isn’t going to make much difference, and I think Jenny would like to have another girl around. I think Larry wouldn’t mind it either. You two are close friends, but if Jenny keeps dividing herself between the two of you, it might cause problems.”

  Sean looked at him. I hadn’t thought if it like that. “All right, you can come,” said Sean. “I guess we’re leaving in the morning. Be there or be square.”

  She kissed Sean’s hand and jumped up. “Thank you, my lord. Oh, thank you.” She bobbed a curtsey and ran off toward the cottage where the old woman had lived.

  When they got back to the inn, Sean found that someone had arranged a hot bath for him, complete with clean clothes. After he climbed into the copper tub, the innkeeper came in and whisked his sweaty clothes away.

  When he pulled himself out of the cooling tub and dressed, he felt a lot better. He still felt overly loose, but at least he wasn’t sticky anymore. He didn’t happen to have a comb, so he was raking his wet hair back with his fingers when he left the room. It had been months since he’d cut his hair, and even then, he hadn’t liked it too short. But now the waves in his hair were starting to become unruly, and now that it was washed, he knew it would be worse.

  When he reached the table, his plate was waiting for him. Thoughts of his hair were driven away by the sight. He was so hungry. By the time he was half way through his second plate, he was beginning to wind down. He had taken a nice hot bath, the room was warm, and his stomach was quite full. The next evolution of the evening was to start dozing off.

  He took his leave, weaving his way to the stable and his bed of straw. He wobbled, almost as if he was drunk. At this point, he could have slept on a bed of nails and not noticed the difference. After a brief greeting spared for Prince, he fell into bed – literally.

  He didn’t fall asleep fast enough, though. The girl, the one who decided to accompany them in the morning, showed up and pulled him over onto his back. He hardly noticed her pulling off his boots, but when she started pulling at his pants, he woke with a start. “What are you doing?” he said, as he clutched at his pants.

  “If you sleep in your clothes, you’ll not rest well,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  “I was doing just fine until you woke me up,” said Sean, barely containing his anger to a whisper, so they wouldn’t rouse the stable master.

  “I’m just trying to help. I want to take care of you.” She sat back, looking like she was about to cry. He had yelled at her in all but volume.

  “Listen, you can still come with us in the morning, I’m sure there are a lot of things you’ll be able to do that doesn’t involve undressing me. Whether or not I sleep in my clothes can’t be something to worry about, because there may be times when I won’t have time to get dressed before… something happens. Go on back inside and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  She sniffed and her hands fluttered as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “I don’t have a room inside.” She sighed and continued. “I woke you up. The least I can do is put you back to sleep. Roll over. I’ll rub your back and shoulders until you fall asleep. Maybe you won’t be so sore in the morning.” When he hesitated, she repeated, “Roll over,” and waved her hand to emphasize her words.

  His short adrenaline rush was wearing off and he was getting drowsy again. He yawned and rolled over. At least she won’t be able to get at my pants. She pushed his arms up and dug into the muscles of his shoulders and back. Nice. Every other time I had a massage, it hurt. Even if her hands are shaking, this is nice.

  Wandering Monsters

  Sean woke the next morning to find he had curled around the warm body of the girl. He was surprised and a bit embarrassed, but he was so comfortable and warm, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

  Larry came in to wake him. Sean looked up in time to see him duck away again when he saw that Sean wasn’t alone.

  He sighed and the girl stretched. Ah well, it’s time to get up anyway. He rolled away and stretched too. His muscles ached all over, but he wasn’t as stiff as he’d
expected to be. “Maybe you should tell me your name.”

  “Mattie, my name is Mattie,” she said as she climbed to her feet. She brushed some straw from her thin shift and then reached for her dress that was draped over the stall fence.

  All Sean could do was lie there and watch her, spellbound, utterly fascinated and distracted by her long legs, the curve of her butt, the graceful movement of her entire body as she slid her dress over her head. She put on socks that reached above her knees, then bent low to slide her feet into leather slippers. He was in no condition to stand long before she had the last slipper in place.

  She glanced at him with dark eyes and patted Prince’s curious nose, then she left the stable, smoothing straw from her silky hair.

  “What do you think, Prince?” said Sean as he struggled to compose himself enough to rise. “I think we’ll have to keep her around for a while.”

  Prince nickered softly and poked his nose down toward his master as far as his stall fence would allow.

  Sean stood and redid his pants, then put his socks and boots on. He gave Prince a measure of grain and some fresh water, then he too headed for the inn and breakfast.

  The road from the village led roughly southeast and they were on it as soon as everything was packed up. Ferris rode with Cisco, and Larry rode with Jenny, though he scarcely knew how to ride. He’d come with Sean a few times when Elias had taken him to the police stables, but he had only watched the lessons. He didn’t think his father would have approved of him riding a police horse, especially if he hadn’t paid for the lessons.

  With no mount for Errol, he led the mule, and Mattie and Sean, on Prince, walked behind him to ensure that the mule kept moving. They had to be careful, though; too close and he’d try to kick, and too far and he’d try to stop. The same was true for Errol, too short on the lead and the mule tried to bite his hand, and too long, and he’d try to stop and graze. Prince seemed to enjoy helping. Before they found their proper distance, if such a thing existed, every time the mule let Prince get too close, Prince would try to bite him. The whole arrangement kept them all from getting bored.

  They had just stopped to dig a cold lunch out of the panniers when Prince let out a high-pitched, calling whinny, startling everyone. His ears were forward and his head high, so they all looked to see what he had spotted.

  They saw the other horse instantly. “I didn’t think they made them that big,” Sean commented. A long second later, he realized that the horse was charging and its rider was yelling and screaming something incoherent. Charging out of its dust, five more men on smaller horses struggled to keep up.

  The horse screamed out a challenge and Prince reared up to scream an answer. That, as nothing else did, galvanized them into motion. Ferris drew his sword and Errol handed the mule’s lead to Mattie. Cisco snagged the reins of Jenny’s horse and herded Mattie and the mule off the road and into the trees. Larry strung his bow, and he and Errol stepped up beside Ferris.

  Sean found himself on top of Prince without remembering how he got there, and they were charging down the road directly at the big gray monstrosity with its black-garbed rider. Ferris yelled something after him, but Sean couldn’t distinguish what he’d said over the thunder of Prince’s hooves.

  The two charging beasts had reduced the distance between them by half before it occurred to Sean that he was riding into battle and he had yet to draw his sword. The distance was suddenly shrinking at light speed, and he had reins in his hand that he didn’t know what to do with. In true ‘John Wayne’ style, he clamped the reins between his teeth and drew his swords simultaneously in a spectacular cross draw that fortunately missed cutting the reins. He had no plan of action; he was just trying to solve a problem, and he had less than seconds to do it in.

  A few lunging strides later, they crashed together. Prince knew his business, but Sean was at a disadvantage; not only did he not know Prince’s business, but he had never fought a true battle with a sword before, let alone from horseback. Prince’s head went down, his teeth reaching for legs or underbelly and the reins were pulled from Sean’s mouth.

  Somehow, Sean managed to keep the sword of his opponent from decapitating him, then they were apart again. Prince whirled on the spot, nearly unseating his rider, and he was in the middle of battle again. The big gray, standing almost two feet taller and proportionally heavier than Prince, was a fraction slower. Prince was at them broadside and went directly for the rider. Sean had all he could do to protect his horse and himself from the man’s flashing sword, then they careened apart again, if only by a few inches.

  Sean heard the man cry out, but it didn’t stop him from going for any target he could find. His attack was disrupted when the big gray started to pitch and kick. The great gray’s head snaked around and reached for Sean. He had no choice but to backhand him and knock those really big teeth away. He didn’t think he had ever seen teeth so big. Though he didn’t realize it at that moment, he did a second later; those teeth were broken and black. The horse wasn’t dripping blood like Prince had been, but he’d been there. The monster gray horse was another poor unfortunate soul, a destrier, as Errol had called Prince. He would want to kill anything that moved – anything within reach.

  Prince wheeled away and let loose with a double-barreled kick with his back feet that landed solidly on something, sounding like two pieces of wood slapping together.

  The rest of the horsemen had reached the battle by now, but those on Sean’s side were also closing in. Larry was shooting his bow with remarkable accuracy. Two men were already out of their saddles and quite still, and another was wounded and out of his saddle as well.

  Sean didn’t have much time to look around, as they were crashing together again. Prince climbed high to attack with his front feet this time, putting Sean at an extreme disadvantage. With Prince standing up between them, Sean couldn’t reach the other rider to protect Prince from most of his attacks. All he could do was keep the gray’s teeth from him, and from Prince; it was a full-time job.

  They broke apart again with another parting back-kick from Prince. Sean was pleased to see that both the rider and the gray were now bleeding; he wished he could claim credit for some of it.

  During a brief interlude, Sean heard Ferris yelling at him. “What are you doing, you fool? Kill them!”

  What does he think I’m trying to do? Then Sean remembered – he didn’t have to use a sword to kill. They crashed into the gray again and he toppled over like a statue knocked on its side. Neither of them were prepared for the sudden lack of resistance. Prince tripped and they tumbled over the body of the big gray. Prince did a horse’s version of a somersault and Sean was thrown away to roll, it must have been a hundred times, before coming to a halt.

  He climbed to his feet unsteadily, while Prince scrambled to stand between him and the downed horse and rider without putting any weight on one front leg.

  He looked around in time to see Errol swing his staff like an overgrown bat at the legs of another horse and they too did a summersault. Ferris turned from one prone body to pull the last rider from his saddle and leave him lying on the ground…very still. Larry had his sword in his hand now; it was bloody.

  Sean approached the big gray, his rider’s leg was pinned under the horse and he lie very still with one arm twisted under him. Sean kicked his sword out of reach, then lifted the black cloth that had covered his face. He could only grimace at the sight of the scarred and twisted face he found. What kind of accident would cause that? Then he remembered what Errol had said. These are burn scars. Or was this torture?

  The man opened his eyes and lunged for his sword. Not finding it, he reached for a dagger, but that was pinned under him, and Errol was there with his staff. Quite by accident, he managed to catch the man’s arm behind the staff and the end of it slid under his body; with a little weight on the other end of the staff, the arm wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Why did you attack us?” asked Sean.

  The man sneered an
d started to laugh. The sound sent chills up Sean’s spine. Sean looked up at Errol and saw his face go pale. Ferris came up behind him, and Larry appeared on the other side of the dead horse.

  “Kill him, Seanad. You can’t do anything for him,” said Ferris. “It would be a mercy.”

  Now, after his first life-and-death battle, Sean knew he could kill in battle, but this man was helpless. He grabbed his head and looked him directly in the face. “Why did you attack us?” he asked again. “You will answer me,” he compelled. He had never done it before, at least not consciously.

  Instantly he knew that the man didn’t have an answer. For him, they moved, therefore, they must be attacked; he needed no other reason.

  Sean refused to give up on him, though. He compressed his body in a hard weaving of air and lifted the dead horse away from him, then he pulled him up to hang suspended from the ground. Sean reached in to grasp his throat with his hand. He felt him struggle to attack. His lips peeled away from his teeth, and a cry of frustrated fury echoed across the field. Sean healed the broken bones and torn flesh. Both legs had been broken, one from Prince’s attack and the other from the fall of his own horse. Skin, muscle, leather and metal had been torn from his chest by Prince’s teeth and his left arm had been badly broken from his fall. By the time Sean was done setting his bones and healing his wounds, his cry had degraded to a bone chilling mixture of screams and laughs.

  Still, Sean wasn’t finished. Before the man could recover, Sean reached into his mind. “You will teach me what I need to know. You will teach me how to fight from a horse. You will teach me how to fight someone like you. You will teach me what I need to know…” He went through the command a half dozen times before he began to get a response from him.