Sean was just coming away from pouring Cordan into bed with his bride, and debating whether to forgo any sleep and get on with the new day, or forgo the day in favor of some sleep, when he came across Ferris preparing to depart. He had their mule hitched to a small two-wheeled cart and was dropping a bedroll into the front of it when he saw him. “I thought you wouldn’t be leaving until morning.”
“It is morning,” he said. “It’s going to take me half a day to get there.”
Sean yawned and stretched. “Take your time. Get to know people. Be seen and noticed. I’m not going to do anything until tonight. I want you known well enough so people won’t be afraid to talk to you; oh, and make sure no one can blame you for what happens.”
“What are you up to?” he asked.
“You’ll find out,” said Sean.
“How am I supposed to do what you want if I don’t know what it is you’re going to do?”
“The only ‘doing’ you have to do is be there. Just make sure you’re not alone tonight, enjoy the company of a woman, or keep the inn rocking all night. Just don’t get yourself thrown in jail or killed. I need your brain behind your eyes and ears in the morning.”
“I don’t understand,” he grumbled and scratched at the coarse stubble on his cheek.
“Good.” Sean pulled the blue stone he’d taken from the inlaid picture at the manor out of his pocket and handed it to him. He had intended to give it to Mattie, but she wasn’t his girl anymore and this seemed like a good idea. He wondered if Ferris would try to use it. He yawned again. “I’m going to bed.”
Ferris looked at the pale blue wedge of glass then put it in his pocket. “I want you to practice finding who’s using magic around you today.”
“Right,” said Sean. “I kind of cheated last time.” He headed toward his bed trying to figure out how he would locate a mage he didn’t already know, but his tired brain wouldn’t cooperate with him.
He woke with the sun high to find Elias pulling his boots off.
“Go back to sleep,” he said with a grin, as he threw a blanket over his face then closed the curtains to block the light from the window.
He woke well after lunch to a quiet and empty house. He had never really been in the house after lunch. He went to the barn and found Prince dozing in his stall, so he went in search of someone who could use magic.
The first person he found was Darrel, and with him was Elias. With their help, they located Clayton, and he knew where Marinda was. They were the only people he knew who could use magic with some strength. As soon as he explained his desires, they all gathered around the table.
At first, each of them would announce their touch. After a few tries, Sean said, “It’s no good. It’s getting to the point that I can tell who’s doing it because I can recognize the touch. I still can’t tell where it’s coming from.”
Marinda stood and they all moved outside where there was a little more room to move around. She had Clayton take a chair while she went and found a scarf. With Sean sitting in the chair blindfolded, they started walking around him; some walked in one direction, and some in another, and occasionally, they switched directions. They no longer announced their touch, but the problem was still the same; Sean could still tell who, he just couldn’t tell where. He refused to use the same tactic that had allowed him to locate Clayton the other day. That had revealed most everyone in his vicinity and he had been the most likely choice. That wouldn’t work among people he knew nothing about.
“Hold still for a minute,” he said, and reached out to try to feel them, or one of them. By accident, he felt Elias at the same moment he cast; that piece of information gave him something to look for, but it still didn’t give him a direction. Then he had an idea; he sent out the pulse he had used the other day only he held it there. It felt like holding a radar ping on constant ping. It worked like before – it told him the location of everyone in the near vicinity, but it also told him exactly where the magic came from. Like a small rock would make a ripple in a pond of water, he knew how far away it was and which direction it was coming from. He touched back, and after that, he got it right every time. The ripples would work whether he knew the caster or not.
Then Elias made it more difficult. He took the chair away and put a sword in his hand. “You used to practice your forms on the roof of the apartment building. I want you to go through them again now.”
Sean had become accustomed to having two swords and he had to remember the simple forms he had used not really that long ago. It was hard to think about the forms and maintain the ping. He missed several casts and his forms got all screwed up. Then, quite unintentionally, the ‘ping’ turned sideways and slid under his skin. It took up a position alongside the sensation of someone watching from behind – under the small hairs on the back of his neck. He settled into his forms and touched back without fail.
“Keep at it,” said Elias. “We’re going to test your range.”
With use came solidity. He was aware of their distance as they moved away, but it didn’t seem to matter. The easiest magic is line-of-sight, but that, by no means, is the only magic. Sean could tell when they were no longer in line-of-sight, having passed behind a building or some other obstruction; their touches lost focus. Then he could tell when some other interference distracted them, and though he could still detect their use of magic, they missed him more often than not.
Eventually, they stopped and came back. “Obviously, you are more accurate than we are,” said Darrel. “Even I was starting to have trouble reaching you. I think that’s about the best we can do until someone stronger comes along.”
“How about during a fight?” asked Elias. “Could you do that while you were fighting one or more opponents?”
“I think so. Whatever it is I do, it seems to have found a nook that’s mostly instinctive,” said Sean.
“I’ll be among the fighters, thank-you-very-much,” said Clayton. “Someone else can get cut off this time.”
“All I do is fire,” said Elias. “You might be able to throw it off, or shield against me in time, but you could still get burned. I’d rather we wait until we were sure you were good enough before we tried something like that.”
“I have dinner to start,” said Marinda. “You boys go ahead and play for another couple hours.” She left shaking her head and chuckling.
“I guess that leaves me,” said Darrel. He handed Elias his sword to replace the one Sean now held, and headed toward the barn.
Knowing that an attack would come from him made it hard to ignore him, but Sean made himself stop thinking about him. Fighting both Elias and Clayton with one sword and no long knife helped, since they were both trying to ruin his new shirt.
The magical ‘attack’ essentially came from three directions at once. Marinda, likely thinking that any attack from her would be a surprise, took the light from his eyes. Darrel tried to bind his sword and hold it in place. Sean found light for his eyes with a blink and he snatched his sword from Darrel’s binding in time to block an attack from Clayton, but it was the third attack that was the most surprising, and earned him a nasty cut on the shoulder from Elias.
“Seanad, can you hear me?” said Ferris, in his ear.
He blocked both Elias and Clayton’s physical attacks and held a hand up to Darrel. He didn’t think Marinda would try more than once. “I hear you, Ferris. What’s up?” He wanted to ask how he was doing this, but he seemed alarmed about something, and asking ‘how’ didn’t seem very important. He must have more air magic than I thought.
“You better put off whatever you’re planning to do tonight. The garrison is all worked up. From what I’ve gathered, additional patrols have been sent out in every direction. They’ve been going from farm to farm and they’re grilling everyone who’s been any distance from town. They’ll get to me eventually. I think I should leave as soon as I can.”
“Stay where you are, Ferris,” said Sean. “If you leave now, it’ll look suspicious and they
’ll likely follow you. If you get into trouble, I’ll get you out of it. Are they asking about the missing patrol, or are they asking them something else?”
“I haven’t been able to determine what’s been asked, but I have a very bad feeling about this.”
“Hang in there. Keep your eyes open. Call me about every hour. If you don’t, I’ll come looking for you.”
“As you wish.” he broke the connection. He was not happy.
Shortly before the sun went down, it started to rain, and Ferris called Sean with his latest news. “They’re looking for their missing patrol. I shouldn’t be here.”
“I need you there. They haven’t given you any other trouble, have they?”
“No.”
“Then stay.” Sean caught Ferris’s displeasure before he broke the connection.
“Great – it’s raining. I was going to sleep under the cart. Maybe I can turn on the charm and one of the ladies at a candle maker’s shop will let me stay on her porch.”
At about three in the morning, Sean opened up the banner and spread it out on the table. He lit a couple lamps and set them on either side, then he closed his eyes and sought out Ferris…
…and then quickly left his vicinity; he wasn’t sleeping on any porch. Sean next went out to the street to see if he could do what he wanted to do. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t too sure how to do it.
It was a good-sized town; it probably held a few thousand people all together, and since it sported a garrison, it had a wall. After exploring two of the gates, Sean discovered that the town had outgrown its wall; several homes and even a few businesses were outside of their protection. He then went to the central market square. Most everyone went through the market during the day, didn’t they?
In the end, he stayed with his original plan. He went to each of the four main gates and hung a banner in each one. Using earth magic, he assembled the materials from around him and constructed the cloth with its colors, then he glued one under each gatehouse. The sentries who walked the walls didn’t notice a thing – why would they? Their attention was directed away from the walls, and there had been no sound to attract their attention down under their feet.
Exodus
“Seanad, can you hear me?” called Ferris. His voice was only a whisper and it quaked.
That quaking whisper woke Sean faster than any shout could have. He had dozed off at the table. He bolted upright. “I hear you, Ferris. What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“Did you do this?”
“Yes I did. Tell me what’s happening. What do you think?” He was eager for Ferris’s answer, but his quaking voice had him frightened; he hadn’t expected that.
Ferris didn’t reply right away, so Sean suspected he was not alone. “Everyone is leaving. They cover their heads for a death and they are leaving the town. You have broken us.”
“Where are they going?” asked Sean.
“They go away. Perhaps they go to relatives in the country. They just go. Many will starve. Many will die because of this. You have to undo it.”
“Pull yourself together, Ferris. If I thought you couldn’t handle it, I would have gone myself, but I might have done everything all wrong, so I sent you. Now, go to the garrison and tell me what’s happening there. If all the people are leaving, I need to know what the soldiers are doing about it.”
“I can’t go there. Already I’m shunned for not having my head covered.”
“Then cover your head. I need to know what the soldiers are doing.”
“I can’t go there. I can’t be seen in their company.”
He’s really falling apart. “All right, come on home,” said Sean. I’ll have to go and see for myself. “Can you make it all the way or do you want me to bring you out?”
“I may have trouble hiding my destination. I’ll call if I can’t get away unseen.”
He sounds much better now that he is thinking of leaving. Sean shook his head and opened his eyes to see his aunt standing across from him, half way across the room.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, as she indicated the banner, still spread across the table.
She looks like she’s afraid to come near it. “Mattie gave it to me,” said Sean. “Her grandmother made it after a vision she had. She called me the ‘White Star’. Mattie told me this was a representation of that.”
“Do you know what this means?” she asked.
“Cordan told me the story,” said Sean.
“Good, but do you know what this means?”
“Are you forgetting where I was raised? If you haven’t told me, you can bet no one else did,” said Sean, getting frustrated.
She sank into a chair across from him, her hands held uncharacteristically in her lap. “This is indeed a clear representation of the White Star. It is said that the White Star is death and destruction. It is said in the legends that the White Star’s battle with the Dark Lord nearly swept us from the land.”
“I displayed this in the town,” said Sean. “Ferris told me everyone is leaving. I think the people are reacting far more closely to the story I was told than I could have hoped. If they didn’t look at the Dark Lord, he couldn’t use their strength. Don’t you see? If the people stop supporting Ludwyn’s men, they will turn on each other. I can only hope that they will turn on Ludwyn himself.”
“And if Ludwyn’s men decide to go after the people? What then?” she asked.
Sean hadn’t thought of that, but he thought about it now. “They may do that, but if the people scatter, it will be difficult for them to do much damage.”
“How can you say such a thing? Damage is damage. It’ll be the same as setting the fox loose in the chicken house.”
“No it’s not. The fox has been loose in the chicken house ever since Ludwyn took the throne. A more accurate analogy would be a cat chasing a thousand mice in an open field. Maybe he’ll catch one; he might even catch a couple, but more likely, they’ll all get away because he won’t know which one to chase first. Would you like to come with me and see? Ferris would blow his cover if he went.” Sean held his hand out to her across the banner.
She rose abruptly and turned to the stove. Her shoulders seemed unusually stiff, even hunched.
Sean carefully folded the banner and wrapped it in its cloth. He went up to his room to stow it with his things again. Elias still slept, so he used the quiet to go see what there was to see in the town.
Just as Ferris had said, people all around had black scarves over their heads and they refused to look at, or speak to, anyone who didn’t. Looks like the people are choosing for themselves who is the cat and who is the mouse.
Sean went to the garrison and saw pandemonium. Officers were yelling orders and taking reports. Messengers were scurrying back and forth on the run. His only regret was that he couldn’t hear them. What am I thinking; of course, I can hear them. He tuned in…
“…won’t come down, sir,” said one young soldier.
“Then burn them,” yelled the commander. “Destroy them and close the gates before they all leave.”
Just as his aunt had predicted, the guards were trying to prevent the people from leaving, so he went to the closest gate.
The people were all veiled, packed up and waiting patiently, if fatalistically, to be allowed to depart. Those who didn’t happen to have a black scarf they could see through blackened their face; Ferris was one of those, looking somehow diminished as he hung his head and waited with the donkey.
The gate was blocked by a row of pikemen with their points lowered toward the crowd. Sean wondered if any further show of force would be used. The people were just waiting. They weren’t yelling or crying. They weren’t pushing or panicking. They just waited.
A runner came with a torch and orders to burn the banner. Sean toyed with the idea of preventing it from burning, but what with the rain during the night, he was certain it wouldn’t burn very well anyway.
As it turned out, burning the banner worked in S
ean’s favor. Once it caught, it burned very well, and by coincidence, the wood above them also caught, having been protected from anything wetter than the occasional fog since the gate was built. By the time the banners were gone, the gates, and a healthy section of the adjoining wall, was fully involved; those guarding the gates were forced to retreat. More men were quickly summoned to halt the fire’s spread before houses became involved, but the people remained where they were, waiting to depart.
As soon as they could see their way clear through the smoke, the people started for the opening and the pikemen were helpless to stem the flood.
A fast view of the other gates revealed much the same thing at each of them, though the south gate had collapsed across the opening, preventing any traffic with wheels from getting through. Those had quietly turned around in search of a different gate.
Sean returned to the garrison to find the commander. He was curious to hear what he would order next.
“…gates have burned. The people are leaving. We can’t stop them,” reported the frantic runner.
The commander was occupied in a one-sided conversation with someone else, and it didn’t take much imagination to guess who it must be.
“I shouldn’t need to describe it, sir. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. What matters is what the people are making of it. I’m told they have packed only what they could easily carry or transport and they are just leaving. I’ve just been informed that your orders to burn them have backfired and the gates have caught too. The walls are compromised; we can’t contain them.”
The Making of a Mage King: Prince in Hiding Page 18
