The Making of a Mage King: Prince in Hiding

by Anna L. Walls

  Sean poured over the map. From his travels through the country, he knew there were more villages than were shown, so there must have been a population cut-off, or perhaps there were just more villages now.

  It didn’t matter much; he didn’t plan on stopping at every village they came across. He wondered what he would find out there; he feared the mayhem his uncle had gone to such great lengths to create.

  Sean tried to plot a rough route that would carry him to all the red dots in the least amount of time. He could catch a barge down river to Rouen and start there, then, hoping there were more roads than what was on the map, head north to Ambiani, then Calais. From there he would have to go south to Remi before going east over the mountains to Allemands, then Argentora before the snows cut them off. From there he might be able to barge down another river that ran south, or at least follow it, catching the houses of the nobility along the way. At the southern coast, he should be able to catch a ship along the coast; a short jaunt east to Massalia and then west to Pellier, Tolosa, and Burdigala. After that, his simple circle got interesting. He’d have to wait and see when he got that far, but it looked like, if he finished his sea journey at Nantes, he’d be able to head north to Condate, then farther north to Caen. Then he’d be forced to go back south clear across the plains to Argevin, then southeast into the mountains to Briance, then farther east to Gerovia before he could head back home, hitting Genabum last – saving it for last – saving it for something ‘special’.

  Oh well, I know better; the whole trip is going to be a logistical nightmare. All I can hope for is to be able to make the trip and hit every stop. I wish I could have set out months ago. I wish I could teleport to each of those red dots, but without having ever been there, that’s impossible. Even seeing my destination wouldn’t help; there’s no guarantee that what I am looking at is where I need to go. The red dot on the map may not even be the capital anymore. I’ll think of something; I have to think of something.

  He remembered his moving half a dozen horses and himself only a mile or so. Can I move a hundred men and their horses, plus a wagon train of supplies, a hundred miles or more? I’m stronger now than I was then, but am I strong enough for that?

  Carris entered the library and bowed, waiting for acknowledgement. The light that came in with the open door put another idea into his head. Can I make a door that opens up to my destination easier than teleporting everything? If it’s possible, and if I can hold it, any number of people could go through.

  “What is it, Carris?” he asked.

  Carris straightened and stood stiffly, as if holding himself still by force of will alone. “I have come to tell you that a cousin of mine will be coming for my daughter. He’ll be here in about a week.”

  “Then your daughter is getting better; I’m glad. Why don’t you ask one of the priestesses to go with her? Then again, in a week perhaps she won’t need one anymore. Will you be going with her, or have you decided to stay?”

  Carris’s posture loosened some. It made Sean wonder what he’d expected. “I have decided to stay and help you undo Ludwyn’s handiwork.”

  “Good. You’ll be coming with me when I leave here. How are the preparations for our departure progressing?”

  “The men have been chosen and are nearly ready. Some of the necessary stock has been brought in, but assembling enough supplies is proving to be difficult. How long do you anticipate that we’ll be away?”

  “I’d be astonished if there was enough supplies here to see us through our entire journey; we’ll have to buy more supplies along the way. We’re not going to be able to make it back here before snow flies. That’s the way it looks to me anyway. We’ll have to see how it works out. When was the last time you were out and about?”

  “Lord… Your…uncle kept most everyone pretty close to home. Garrisons kept an eye on the closest villages and farms in order to collect taxes, but I suspect there were farms off the roads, and perhaps warded.”

  “Were searches conducted for those farms?”

  “I’m sure some searching was done in an effort to account for everyone, but I believe most of the commanders knew of these farms, and perhaps even knew where they might be located, but for the most part turned a blind eye as long as they stayed out of sight.”

  Sean remembered his cousin, Clay and the manor house when they had first met. If the house had been watched, all comings and goings were known, but who watched? Aunt Marinda for sure, but the warding alerted someone else too. He wondered if that was something Ludwyn had set up or if it was something older. He could see such wardings as a security measure for the family of the… What title should they have? What title did they used to have? One train of thought always led to a dozen questions. “What do you think my reception will be?” Sean asked Carris.

  “By the commanders? It’s hard to say,” replied Carris. “That depends on what you plan to do with them. Those few that I have met are honorable men trying to make the best of a very bad situation. If they wanted to hang onto what they had, some concessions had to be made. There’s also a possibility that they were like me.”

  “I suppose so,” said Sean. He remembered meeting one man who had tried to be honorable; it had cost him his life – or would have. “I don’t have time to remake the entire country, but I do want to reestablish the nobility if I can. The military should be under the control of their lawful lords. I’m sure the people are tired of Ludwyn’s rule.”

  “You may find it hard to do that, my lord,” said Carris. “Your uncle took particular interest in the nobility. They may be hard to find.”

  “Great. That’s all I need – another delay.” Sean picked up a pencil and did some rough math on the corner of the map. Best estimate: a wagon will be able to move about fifteen miles a day. Best estimate: there’s an average of a hundred miles between most of my stops. Best estimate: I find the family and complete negotiations within two days. Bam – more than six months gone and the summer is already waning. Best estimates always go wrong. If I have all of six months, I’ll be lucky.

  He slapped the pencil down on the table. “Come on, I need to talk to Elias. We have to make some changes.”

  Sean found Elias haggling with an old farmer for the use of six oxen. “Dad, forget it,” he said.

  Elias looked at Sean, confused.

  “How many horses can we get our hands on?” he asked.

  “We have enough horses for everyone. Why do you ask?”

  “Can we round up another hundred, or close to it?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to the barn behind him. “Garth!” he yelled.

  A gray haired man that reminded Sean of some old cowhand straight out of a Louis Lamoure book showed himself at the door. “Yes, lord?”

  “How many more horses can we turn out?” asked Elias.

  The man turned back into the barn and waved another man forward to answer the question. “My son Seth, my lord, he runs the family herd.” He looked like a younger version of Garth, so there was no denying the relationship.

  “There’s another seventy to seventy-five two and three-year-olds who haven’t seen a saddle more than once or twice. There’re also about eighty-five-some-odd mares with foals, and twelve stallions that have never been saddled. I’m not too keen to part with those mares or the stallions though,” said Seth.

  “How long will it take to break those two and three-year-olds well enough to take the trail under a pack?” asked Sean. “My thought is that some horses would be ridden and some would carry packs, and I’d like to rotate that if possible.”

  “I suppose I might be able to make one or two of them trail-worthy in about a week, give or take, but that’s just barely. I wouldn’t be able to train up seventy-some horses any time soon,” said the young hostler.

  “Dad, turn out all the men who are coming with me.” Sean turned back to Seth. “You have one week to make it possible. If we can’t cover more than twenty miles a day, we’re going to be caught with our pants down
.”

  The man took a dozen steps forward before his protest made it out of his mouth. “Impossible. You want me to teach soldiers how to break horses without killing any of them. It can’t be done.”

  Elias intercepted Seth and whispered something in the man’s ear and Seth froze, his eyes wide.

  “Yes it can,” said Sean. “I’ll be helping. I’m not asking for a professional grade pack train, just good enough for trail; the rest can be accomplished as we go. I really need to get out more; too few people know who I am. He ground his teeth. And too many expect me to act like my uncle.

  Before Seth had a chance to do something like bow or take a knee, Sean headed back to the palace with Carris and Elias on his heels.

  “My lord,” said Carris. “Taking untried horses on the trail could foil your plan to travel faster than wagons.”

  “It might, but it surely won’t be as slow as wagons pulled by oxen.”

  Elias stepped forward to open the door for them.

  Sean stopped and stared at it, his idea churning around in his head. He concentrated on the other side of the door. He thought about the twisted tree-thing he had created out in front of the city gates. There was a bending and a pulling, then the tree-thing, along with the grass around it, came into focus. Sunshine lit the field. All signs of the huge camp had been virtually erased; only the abused grass remained where thousands of people had lived for nearly a month. Both Elias and Carris gasped, but neither of them was willing to intrude on his concentration.

  Sean stepped through the door, reluctantly followed by both Elias and Carris. Only belatedly did he wonder if he had replaced the palace with the field. He hadn’t. The spell had worked. They were standing beside the tree-thing, and behind them, he could see that the palace was still intact – he looked.

  Sean looked up at the garish flower-thing. “This thing really is ugly, isn’t it?” he said. Elias cocked an eyebrow and Carris wasn’t about to say anything. He looked at Carris and smiled, then he wiped the thing away and smoothed the ground where it had stood. “It has long since served its purpose.” Sean was getting a headache now, so rather than return the same way, he elected to walk back. It would give him a chance to get some air, some sun and some exercise; things he’d missed for too long.

  Elias caught up with him. “How did you do that?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “It gave me a headache, so I figure I made a sloppy job of it. I’m going to have to practice some in order to get it right. If I can, I figure it might help us cross rivers, if nothing else.”

  “I’ll say it’s a good idea when I get back to the house and find that everything there is all right,” said Elias, clearly stunned. The last thing I expected to see on the other side of that door was that tree.”

  Sean was inclined to agree. It had been stupid of him to do something like that so close to home.

  At the front gate, they were scrutinized closely. Sean’s face was not known to anyone. Hélène was right about one thing; I will need to wear the crown. It’s the only way the people will know that I intend to rule.

  As he walked through the streets, he was pleased to see that, though guards were still prevalent, they no longer tramped through the streets looking like they were ready to arrest anyone who looked at them directly; in fact, a good number could be spotted chatting amiably with private citizens or shop owners. He was also pleased to see that they all had his emblem proudly displayed on their shoulders. He hoped that it was a show of their loyalty, and not just a desire to hold onto their jobs as the power over the people.

  Elias noticed his look. “The garrison was flooded with soldiers that came here with the people. They come close to being fanatical in their loyalty to the White Star.”

  Sean made no comment as they walked into the city. He made a point to walk past a certain house and saw that it was deserted. He wondered where the young man and the woman who had lived there had gone. The spell he had set on the place still lingered, so he removed it, much to the surprise of his companions.

  Though the streets bustled with an activity that had been absent the last time he had explored here, one thing was still present. Hookers still paced the streets and beggars still occupied their corners. A glance at the rooftops showed them clear of traffic; burglary was a nighttime thing. Another, at least partial, change was the fact that some curtains were open to the sunlight; they might get closed again after dark, but the homes looked better – happier – with them open.

  The lower market square was a bustle of activity, even this late in the day. He was more than pleased to see that the central attractions had been removed and all trace of them erased from the area. The only thing that did remain was the White Star banner. It was prominently displayed from a tall T-pole in the center of the square, and though no one paid it any particular attention, it was not treated with any particular aversion either.

  As they passed through the gates to the next level of the city, they were questioned as to their names and their business, but they weren’t hindered. Elias gave their true names, but he gave their business as ‘visiting the market’. He mumbled something about finding some fine porcelain for his wife on her birthday. The comment reminded Sean that Analeace’s birthday had been in June and she had always admired porcelain vases. He looked at the man who had been his father as he spoke; sadness was in his eyes, but he was trying his best to hide it from the guards.

  The people here were dressed markedly better and strutted around importantly, though there was no less traffic than in the lower city. Like in the lower city, though perhaps less prominently, pickpockets wove among the crowd wherever the guards weren’t looking. One bold young whelp who looked like he might be around ten or eleven, made a try for Carris. Sean snagged him by the scruff of his neck and held his hand out to Elias. “Hand me a coin, gold if you have one.”

  The boy stopped his struggles at the mention of gold, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to be off at the slightest opportunity. His eyes darted toward the closest guard; it wouldn’t do to attract too much attention.

  Elias handed over a silver dime; they hadn’t exactly come prepared to go shopping.

  Sean embossed his picture on one side, wearing the crown, and the star on the other side. He showed what he had done to the boy, whose eyes almost popped out of his head. “I have a message for your guild master and you will deliver it.” The boy’s eyes widened even farther, if that was possible, and his mouth went slack. I might have used too much force. “Tell your master that he will pay his taxes or I will root him out. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir,” said the boy.

  “Give him this as proof of what you tell him.” Sean handed him the changed coin.

  He let the kid go then asked, “What’s your name?”

  He may still have been a bit mesmerized, because he actually answered. “My name is Charles, sir.”

  “I may have need of someone about your age. If you’re looking for work, look me up, but make it quick; I’ll be leaving the city soon.”

  The boy gave him an odd look then vanished into the crowd.

  “Why would you bring someone like that into the palace? He could steal us blind without us knowing, and his master could use our own gold to pay his taxes,” said Elias with rather more animation than normal.

  “Oh, I don’t know. He got caught, and I’m thinking that after he delivers his message, he won’t be too popular in his customary circles. He just might need protection.”

  “How are you going to collect those taxes?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll worry about that if I manage to survive the summer.”

  Elias gave his son a very sharp look at that.

  The upper market square was a colorful, noisy bustle of business, and once again, his flag was on display high above it all.

  Like the other inner-city gates, the gates to the high city were open, but here they were stopped cold. Without express business, they weren’t allowed to pass. “Your names
might be impressive sirs, but I’ll not let you pass without a better excuse than your word. Anyone can give me those names,” said the guard, who didn’t even recognize Carris.

  “What kind of evidence do you need to convince you that I am who I say I am?” asked Sean.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I admit, I ain’t never seen the new king, but Captain General Manuel speaks highly of him. I expect I’d have to go on his word to pass you as him.”

  “Fair enough. Manuel, can you hear me?”

  “My name ain’t…”

  “Come to the south gate; you need to vouch for me to the guard.”

  “Are you really him?” asked the guard.

  “I am, but you need proof and I’m willing to see that you get it. Have all the gates been fixed?”

  “They have, but by order of the king, they stay open until dark. After dark, no one passes the gates without documentation and the proper clearance to do so.”

  “That goes within the city too?” asked Sean.

  “Of course. You don’t want those poor folk trying to better themselves by sneaking into the upper city.”

  I don’t remember restricting any movement within the city after dark. “Why not?” asked Sean.

  The guard was rescued from answering by the appearance of Manuel. “My lord, I didn’t know you had gone out. Here…” He spoke to the guard. “Take a good look now. This is Lord Seanad Ruhin, your king. He don’t get questioned in his own city.”

  “Yes he does when his face isn’t known. He did right to question me.” Sean shook the guard’s hand and passed through into the high city, motioning for Manuel to walk with them.

  “I like what I see in the city. You’ve done a good job, but I want to make a small change. I want you to initiate citywide drills so the guards and the people all know what to do if the city comes under attack, but that is the only time I want the inner city gates closed or the people questioned. Keep them manned and see to it that the guards are alert for potential trouble passing through, but I don’t want the people stopped or questioned. The only exception would be those who wish to enter the palace grounds – those you question.”