Branded Mage

by D. W.

  This book is dedicated to a great soldier and a good man.

  Spc. Dennis Gregory Jensen

  Oct 9, 1989 – Aug 16, 2011

  U.S. Army

  Remember it is the soldier who gives us the freedom of speech not the writer.

  Copyright © D.W. Jackson

  Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual event, organizations, or persons, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  If you would like to be placed on a list to be notified of future works from this author or if you would like to comment on the book you may send a request to dwjacks01@yahoo.com

  Your email address will not be sold or given to any third parties or used outside to promote other works.

  PROLOGUE

  Caelan was a bear of a man with a multitude of scars crisscrossing his entire body. Trophies from the many battles he had survived. He had served in the Ablaian army since he was ten years old, and now the biggest battle of his life loomed ahead of him. With over thirty thousand troops at his back, he had been ordered to attack Southpass Fort. He had only been in one of the previous attacks on the fort in his life, and they had been beaten back mercilessly.

  Farlan was not a warrior nation, but he had to admit they had a decently trained army. Even though none possessed the experience of the Ablaian soldiers, Southpass Fort was their only way into Farlan. The fort was extremely well built and has proven impossible to breach in the past, but this time would be different. After three years of sending in spies and agitators, the men of Farlan were starting to rebel against their own government, and recent reports led him to believe that approximately ten percent of the Farlan forces would run like cowards when they attacked. Add their newly developed ballista that was lighter and more easily moved and that was also in their favor.

  Slipping away his spyglass, Caelan slowly crawled back from his hidden position. His bones creaked and popped as he rose to his feet. Even though he was only in his fortieth year of life, his body was already complaining from the harsh life he had led. Laying his hand lovingly across the head of his massive war hammer he thought about what his life would have been like if he had followed his father’s footsteps and became a simple blacksmith. His father did well for himself, and was one of the primary suppliers to the King’s army. That had been what allowed Caelan to buy his way into an officer position despite his non warrior heritage, but there was no excitement in that life.

  Caelan has pushed his men to purchase his father’s wears when they were near the capital to help the man out, even though his own weapon was not of his design. He found his war hammer in his youth while fighting the desert tribes. One of the leaders had wielded it with a devastating effect. Caelan had taken it as a trophy after the man lay in a pool of his own blood. His father believed it was of dwarven make, an artifact from the time of the great empire. If that were true, it was a wondrous weapon indeed.

  The brisk early morning air felt good on his skin. As he made his way back to the command tent, he was greeted by general Breeman. He was a pompous young twit who wore his light blond hair long and an outlandish gold breastplate with his family’s coat of arms delicately etched in it. Many of the men wore breastplates to protect themselves. Caelan could find no fault in it, though he wore no armor himself. He found it too binding. Breeman’s was so thin and heavy he could pierce it with little trouble and it limited the young man greatly. Unlike Caelan, Breeman didn’t earn his position but had it handed to him because he was nephew to the king. As much as it bothered Caelan, he had to listen to the pompous ass.

  “Commander Caelan, out for another morning stroll through the snow I see. Is Southpass Fort still there, it hasn’t run off has it? I know how you do fret about that. I don’t see why you don’t have a scout just report to you that the Farlans still have no clue of their impending doom. I suppose that if you want to fret over what those useless whipped men are doing, that is your right.”

  Caelan wanted nothing more than to rip the pretentious little bastard’s arrogant tongue from his mouth. “The main force is still being gathered. It will some time before we are ready to attack. If the Farlans happen to get wind of it and start preparing their defenses, we need to be aware of it. As I’ve explained to you, I much rather use my own eyes than listen to a report from a scout who might not know what he is looking for. Not to mention there are still enough unknown factors for my liking. For example, the report that Queen Serena has a mage at her command.”

  Breeman let out a wispy chuckle. “Those are nothing more than exaggerations from spies who failed to do their jobs. If she had such a person at her command there would be more than rumors.”

  CHAPTER I

  Thad awoke to the rustle of keys in a far off door. His slight shifting made the chains holding him to the wall rattle. His heart pounded ever so slightly with the hope that it may be a visitor. His mind was still numb, as if he was seeing everything through a haze. It was still too early for it to be caused by his drugged food. When he had first realized his food was being drugged, he tried refusing to eat, but the guards had merely forced his mouth open and poured the drugged water down his throat.

  He didn’t know how long he had been in his cell. There was no sun to judge the passing of time. He stayed in continued darkness until someone visited. He had even begun to savor the visits from that bitch of a queen who had thrown him in here after he had saved her life. Her visits were usually long enough for her to ask if he had reconsidered her proposal, but on occasion should would linger and ask him of his past.

  On the rare occasions when the princess Maria was allowed to visit, she would beg him to take her mother’s offer. She cried for hours when he refused, but she always brought something sweet for him. She also forced the guards to keep him clean, something he was extremely thankful for. Maria would also bring news of his adopted charge Shariel, who while sad and upset at his imprisonment, had been allowed to continue on with her schooling. The last thing he had heard was that she had officially entered the new term at school and was doing exceedingly well.

  Thinking of the red headed princess caused him to absentmindedly rub the tattoo on his forehead. It was two crescent moons facing each other, the princess’s personal mark. It showed the world that he was her slave, her property. The queen had decided to have it done after one fateful meeting when his temper had gotten the better of him and he had spat on her. He wasn’t able to use his magic at the moment, but even if he could, it was doubtful that he could do anything about it anyway. He was an external magic user and did not have the inborn ability to affect his own body with magic. Trying to do so could be dangerous for him.

  The footsteps grew closer. It sounded like there was two pair, one much heavier than the other. They grew closer until they came to a stop near his door. He couldn’t tell if it was at his or possibly one of the neighboring cells. Just recently they had brought in a man for killing a local business owner. The man had cried during his first night, but after the initial shock of being sentenced to death, he became quite a talkative fellow. At first he had been good company, but just like all the rest, he had soon gone silent.

  The familiar sound of the key turning in the door reverberated in his cell. The light from a torch quickly filled the room, blinding him momentarily. As his eyes adjusted to the bright flickering of the torch he noticed the princess standing there, along with the guard captain Bren. Bren was a giant of a man with arms the size of small trees. The permanent s
cowl plastered on his face only made him that much more intimidating. His feral eyes roamed in a way that seemed to be constantly searching for his next pray. As dangerous as the man was, Thad had discovered he was a nice man for the most part. He had even gone so far as to thank him for his assistance during the attack on the palace, even if it was after he had been thrown into the dungeon.

  Princess Maria, who was only eleven, was already budding into womanhood and she was a beauty to behold. She always dressed as if she was going to a summer’s eve ball when she visited. Today she wore a silver form fitting dress that accentuated her fiery red hair that fell in a way that framed her face perfectly. Her green eyes looked sad and morose, wavering as if she was on the brink of tears. Even though she looked so sullen, her presence was a welcomed one. She was one of the few bright lights in his world of darkness.

  Shortly after she entered the room, she called for a wash basin to be brought in. Mikel, the young and cruel jail master quickly brought it to her personally. Whenever the princess was around, the man was all smiles, but the second she left he would return to taunting Thad. Sometimes that man just used words, but usually his taunting was accompanied with the heel of his boot. As soon as the bowl was in her hands, she knelt down and began gently washing the dirt from his face and hands.

  Nothing was said as she worked, but Thad couldn’t miss the tears that silently rolled down her cheek and onto her dress before disappearing into the fabric. Part of him wanted to blame her, to curse the day he had ever saved or befriended her. He knew; however, that he wouldn’t change it even if he could. She was innocent. She had kept his secret while he paraded around as Clair the merchant from Rane. He was well aware of the risks when he went to the party that night. He knew full well an attack on the royal family had been planned. He had even made preparations so that Shariel would not lack in his absence in case such an event should occur.

  As Maria placed the rag back in the basin, she ran her slender fingers down his cheek and gave him a soft kiss, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. There was always a slight hesitancy in her movements. The pure innocence of her actions was cute, but he was unsure as to what he truly felt for her. Even though they were only a little over three years apart, she still seemed so young to him. Though, sometimes she acted far more mature than her age.

  The deafening silence of the room was maddening. He wanted to talk to Maria, to hear her voice, but his throat was sore from coughing fits that had plagued him for the past few days. He knew the cold air, poor food, and Mikel’s beatings would kill him eventually. It may not be quickly, but it would be long before he gave into the queen’s demands. She may have branded him a slave, but he would never submit to being one. Not after having tasted true freedom.

  “Mother is quite peeved at you for not giving in to her yet. She honestly just can’t fathom why you don’t want to be her slave. I love mother dearly, but sometimes the most obvious things escape her. I think it is because my grandmother died, leaving her the queen at such an early age. She never really had to live with someone else making all of her decisions for her.”

  He could see the pleading look in her eyes. It wasn’t hard to understand what she was saying, and the feeling behind it. She loved her mother. She didn’t want Thad to hate her, but it was hard for him not to. He didn’t really blame the queen for her actions, but since she had him chained to the dungeon wall, he couldn’t really make himself like the woman either.

  The queen had paid a high price for him at auction, and he was only able to escape by luck. He couldn’t really fault her for wanting to claim rights to him. He had pondered why so many times, but in the end, it annoyed him that he couldn’t bring himself to blame the woman. Not after his mother had sold him for a large amount of coin with the understanding that he would serve her for the entirety of his life.

  He wanted to reassure Maria, so he reached forward to take her hand but was stopped by the chains that held him firmly to the wall. “Maria, I don’t hate your mother, but I won’t be her slave either. The Queendom has a lot of problems, but I would have supported her the best I could as a free man. Now all I can do is wait for my sanity to leave me or death to take me.” Maria flinched when she heard his raspy voice. Whether her reaction was from what he said or the sound of his voice, he didn’t know, and he was finding increasingly difficult to care. He fell into another coughing fit that dislodged a bright green substance that landed on her dress. He tried to apologize, but his words came out garbled as his head became light and his vision blurred.

  He could hear the princess saying something, but the meanings behind the words were lost to him as he fought to stay awake. He felt the shackles being removed from his body and the princess caught his head as he fell forward, cradling him like a child in her arms. He was lifted into the air by a pair of strong arms. He opened his eyes to see Bren’s worried face as he bounded down the corridor. He fought to keep down what little he had in his stomach, but it was a short lived fight. The continuous bouncing of Bren’s steps was more than he could bear. He hoped he hadn’t gotten any on the princess, but any other thoughts were soon forgotten as he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Thad awoke to find himself in a richly furnished room with dark stained wood walls with a raised multicolored tile ceiling. He attempted to sit up and get a better look at the room, but the movement was repaid with sharp pains in his head and chest. An older lady with auburn hair and a motherly smile gently pushed him back down into the soft mattress. “Young man it will not do for you to be moving around just yet. You have been sleeping for two days and it will be days more before you are anywhere near recovered from the beggar’s cough. Now be a good lad and drink this.” He didn’t know how she managed it but her voice was both kind and commanding at the same time. She pushed a cup filled with the most horrendous smelling and bitter sludge he had ever encountered. The woman made him drink two more cups of the revolting concoction before wiping off his face and chest with a warm rag and then she finally let him be and left the room.

  His solitude was short lived as the queen and princess escorted by Bren and two other guards soon marched into the room. The princess he was always happy to see, even the sour faced Bren was welcome, but laying sick barely able to move the queen was the last person he wanted to see. The princess’s face looked worried and to his amazement the queen’s face was furrowed slightly giving off an air of concern.

  Maria quickly came to his side and gently picked up his hand, while the queen paced back and forth chewing on her thumbnail. The whole thing was so outrageous that he would have laughed if he didn’t think it would cause him to go into a coughing fit accompanied with a fair dose of pain.

  “Are you feeling better?” The princess asked, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. It was as if she was afraid of the answer. The queen stopped her pacing and looked at him. The pained look on her face was even more evident than when she had first arrived, even Bren’s demeanor seemed to slightly shift as they waited for the answer.

  Every second that he lay silent caused the queens frown to deepen. She looked as if she were arguing with herself, and Thad was thoroughly enjoying the show. One look at Maria’s face ended his fun. He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were slightly puffy as if she had been crying and the look she held for him now left little doubt about why she had been crying. As much as he was enjoying the slight agony the queen was in, he couldn’t let Maria suffer for his amusements.

  Thad made his best attempt at a smile, and he seemed to do a fair job of it from Maria’s reaction. “I don’t feel up for running across the Queendom, but I do feel much better now.” He felt Maria squeeze his hand, as most of the worry drained from her face. The queen however continued to look agitated, meaning it wasn’t his health that had her in such a bothered state. From the way her eyes kept darting over to where he lay, it obviously had something to do with him. What could it be? It nagged at him for a few moments, but in the end he just didn’t have the extra energy to
spend on trying to work out the mystery.

  The princess began to chatter on about everything that had been happening over the past few weeks, while the queen began to chew on her thumbnail again. This went on for a few minutes with him commenting on something the princess would say from time to time so she wouldn’t think he was ignoring her. Something he had learned to save himself much grief, then one of the younger guards came in the room and whispered something in the queen’s ear that made her go ridged for a few brief moments.

  “It seems our visit must be cut short,” the queen said quickly regaining her composure.

  The princess gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before going to join her mother. Bren whispered something to the queen who gave him a tight faced nod then left the room, leaving him alone with the massive guard captain. As soon as everyone was gone Bren locked the door from the inside then grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and took a seat next to his bed.

  “You know boy, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you to just become the princess’s guard. One day she will be queen, and you could be her captain. From experience I can tell you it’s not a bad deal.” Bren studied him for a few seconds before shaking his head. “I figured as much. I was a lot like you when I was younger. I always dreamed of gaining my freedom, especially after I was set guarding the queen. She was only eight years old and had noticed me working in the horse stables at the palace. She demanded I be made her guard. At first I thought it was a great advancement until I learned that the only time I had to myself was in the privy, even my bed was placed in her room. I was a nineteen year old boy forced to babysit a spoiled rotten eight year old queen. Her mother had died earlier in the year and her only other family was her aunt who at the time was trying to instate herself within the palace. When the queen refused her, she responded with assassins. Between the threats on her life and the war with Abla she lost any semblance of childhood.”