Forgotten Mage

by D. W. Jackson

  “Nobles,” Flynn said, wiping the small amount of blood that started to run from his nose.

  “That would be royal in my case, and don’t forget it again,” Bren said, pushing past Flynn as he headed further into the non-human part of town.

  “Where are you going,” Flynn yelled, chasing after Bren. “We have indulged your foolishness enough… it’s not safe to continue to wander around here, especially with night coming on soon.”

  “Remember that you are my guard. It doesn’t matter where I go, or what I do, you follow,” Bren said without hesitation. “And you can threaten to have me thrown in the prison, but I think you will find that a bit harder than you expect.”

  Bren didn’t stop to hear if Flynn had any other complaints, he just continued on, looking for where the dwarves worked. He had heard that Crusher had set up a small shop and wanted to hear his views on the current living conditions of the non-humans. It was one thing to see with his own eyes, but there might be things he didn’t know, and hearing it from someone he trusted was a far better source of information.

  It didn’t take long for Bren to find the blacksmith shop he was looking for. He doubted anyone but Crusher would use a sign with an anvil and a beer mug for their shops marker.

  “Ya drunken fool, get your hindquarters out here before I find a nice nadarie to saddle you with,” Bren yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could.

  Within a few moments, the door swung open with Crusher, looking none too pleased, on the other side. The nearly four and a half foot dwarf had a bald head and smooth face, both which were covered in sweat. “Boy, I swear, ya get that foul attitude of yers from yer mother,” Crusher swore as he wrapped Bren up in a tight hug that threated to break the boys bones. “I heard ya been in town fer quite some time and ya just now getting around ta visiting me? I should bend ya over my knee and remind ya what manners are boy.”

  “I was a little busy,” Bren said as ducked his head.

  “No excuse fer being rude ta yer old pal, now is there?” Crusher said scowling. “Well no use worrying about spilt ale now is there? Ain’t like it will get it ta jump back in tha cup. What brings ya ta me little shanty?”

  “I wanted to ask you about the conditions of the non-humans within the city,” Bren said, his face turning serious.

  “I thought that might be ta case,” Crusher said, stepping out of the way. “Ya might as well come in. This might take a bit of telling, if ya want ta know tha truth.”

  Bren stepped inside the house and took a quick look around. Crusher had nicely carved furniture and a large iron table sitting in the middle of the room. Even though he couldn’t see the forge, he knew that it was still burning due to the excessive heat in the room that seemed to roll over him as soon as he entered. “How can you stand to have it so hot in here?” It must be nice in the winter, but in the heat of summer, you could use your house to make jerky. I’m surprised that you can’t eat your own skin already.”

  “I tried that once, tasted like tha swill you would get from a sour keg,” Crusher replied laughing. “Now for tha reason that brought ya ta my door.”

  “I figured ya or ya mother would be coming around, though I didn’t figure it would take this long,” Crusher said, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

  “Is it that bad?” Bren asked, hopping what he had seen was the worst of it, but from the look on his friends face, he doubted that he was right.

  “It’s bad…so bad that most dwarves won’t even travel up this way ta trade anymore. Makes it hard ta get any good ore ta work with. That’s beside the point though. It all started about three years after yer father went and disappeared. The Tower started to run low on funds, so they started dipping into the small amount of money that was collect from taxes and trade from the region. Sae-Thae opposed it, but they didn’t listen ta him, saying that he might be the head of the Tower, but did not speak fer tha whole council of theirs. Once they had a taste of the funds, they started taking a bit more fer this and that and tha taxes started ta rise. The Tower knew that tha humans would throw a fuss and had a lot more folks ta listen ta them, so they placed tha burden on those without a voice.”

  “The magical races,” Bren said in disgust.

  “Got that right boy,” Crusher said angrily. “Our taxes are five times what tha rest pay, and we aren’t even permitted to show within the city, we have to stay within our own little part of town. Suits me fine, don’t like many of those humans anyway, but as time has passed more and more laws have come down that punish someone fer not being human. If yer father was around, he would have stung up that silly council of mages by now.”

  “I see,” Bren said, his fits clutched in anger. “I need to stop this now, before the council steals the last of the power away from the people.” Bren said, standing up from his seat. “I wish I could stay and talk to you longer Crusher, but it seems that I have a lot to do and I doubt the council will give me much time to prepare.”

  “Already got yourself on their radar?” Crusher asked with a smile.

  “You could say that,” Bren replied as he headed for the door.

  “If ya need some help knocking some sense into those high and mighty fools, just come give me a holler. I am sure I can find a few willing ta give ya a hand, probably more than a few at that.”

  “What do you plan to do, take on the whole council of mages?” Flynn asked as Bren marched back toward the Tower. “Master Sae-Thae tried that and it didn’t get anywhere.”

  “Master Sae-Thae didn’t have the authority that I do. My father left him in charge of the school, not the whole city and that is where the council has stepped. With the absence of clear cut boundaries, they have done what they please and Sae-Thae had little that he could say to stop them.”

  “And you think that you have the authority to stop them?” Flynn asked sarcastically. “Just because your father created the town, doesn’t give you the right to order them about.”

  “In fact it does,” Bren said confidently. “The land that this town was founded on was a gift to my father from my mother and the king of Rane. When he died or disappeared it became mine by right.”

  “So you are a king,” Flynn said with a hidden laugh.

  “In a way, yes. I am a king, even if it is a very small kingdom. I just need to find proof that this land now belongs to me. If it comes to it, I will contact King Killian and my mother to assert my power of control.”

  “Where do you expect to find this proof?” Flynn asked, his tone still disbelieving.

  “I am hoping that it will be in Sae-Thae’s office. I know that my mother and King Killian will have a copy of the titles given to my father, but I don’t want to have to wait for them to be delivered, but I will if I have to.”

  As soon as Bren entered the Tower grounds, a young tower guard noticed him and moved in his direction. Thinking that the guards had been ordered to bring him to the council chambers as soon as he returned, Bren quickened his pace and raced up the stairs.

  By the time he reached the top of the stairs and got to Sae-Thae’s office, Bren was out of breath and his chest. Flynn, in great shape, easily kept up, but the others were left more than a few levels behind. Not stopping, Bren rushed into the room, shut and locked the door as soon as Flynn entered, not even waiting for his other guard.

  “Help me look,” Bren said as he started shuffling through Sae-Thae’s papers. “It won’t be long before a senior tower guard arrives with the keys.”

  “Might as well, though I doubt you will find anything in this mess,” Flynn said as he started lazily looking through the pile of things on one of the many tables.

  Bren found a little of everything on Sae-Thae’s desk, there were even letters from his mother, King Killian, and many others in languages that he couldn’t read.

  Why are you looking for a piece of paper? Just go in there and demand they let you take you rightful place. If they refuse, then force them to listen to you. It would only take a letter from you to mobilize
the Rane and Farlan forces to your aid.

  “If I did that, how many do you think would die?” Bren asked Thuraman.

  Does it matter how many die if it serves the good of the whole. Life that has been lost will return to the ether and in return breed more life. It is not as if it is completely lost.

  “Unless I must, I will not bring a war to this small town. It would destroy it,” Bren replied heatedly.

  “Is this what you are looking for,” Flynn said, handing Bren a thick piece of paper.

  “Yes, thanks Flynn,” Bren said, holding the paper as if it were a trophy. “Now all that is left, is to talk to the council. I wish that I could put it off for a few days and get a few other things in order, but I don’t think they will allow me that chance. From what the Weapons Master said, they are eager to put me in my place.”

  “I almost wish they would, but I don’t like what has been done to the non-humans. So for just this once, I will wish you good luck,” Flynn said grudgingly.

  “Flynn, I don’t know why you hate nobles, but maybe one day you will stop believing that we are all the same,” Bren said as he walked toward the door. “Just like anyone else, there are good and bad nobles.”

  “I believe anyone who believes they have the inherent right to rule over others is bad,” Flynn said ruefully. “You are no different than me, yet you claim to be superior…I don’t see it.”

  “I don’t think you understand what a real noble is supposed to be,” Bren replied with a heavy sigh. “My task is not to lord over others, but to protect those in my care and to make sure that my land runs smoothly. Sometimes, that means enforcing harsh laws and other times, it means going to war. To make a kingdom work properly, every person from a farmer to the king must work together.”

  “I will believe it when I see it,” Flynn retorted, the ire still evident in his voice.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  As he stood at the door to Sae-Thae’s office, Bren thought about his mentor, who was now away from the Tower on his own mission. H had begged Sae-Thae to give him the head seat of the council when he had first arrived, but the mage had talked him out of the decision. As soon as Sae-Thae had left, things had turned against him and it seemed no longer possible to wait to take his place. He wondered why Sae-Thae had not told him what had been happening with the non-humans.

  Opening the door, Bren didn’t have to wait long for his escort to the council chambers. Five tower guards awaited him outside, each looking nervous with their hands firmly holding the hilts of their swords. “Lord Farlane, you are requested to meet with the masters in the council chambers,” One of the older guards said, looking from him to Flynn.

  “Does the council normally send armed guards to send an invite for a discussion?” Bren asked, looking at the guards. “I guess it doesn’t matter, I had to talk to them before long…Lead the way.”

  The guard gave a short yet halted bow before heading back down the stairs. As Bren followed, the other three guards formed up around him, reminding him of a man headed for the gallows.

  The council room was only one floor down, at the end of the hall. Bren thought that it would be further away, or at least in a more secretive location. Then again, he reminded himself, this wasn’t some story that he used to read in his mother’s study.

  “You will be summoned when the council has arrived,” An older mage said, stepping outside the door to the chambers. “Until then, you may wait here.”

  Bren always loved how people invited others to stay and wait when they were given little choice in the matter. His mother did the same thing often. He had once asked her about it. “There is never a reason to be rude, even when you plan to lead them to slaughter,” She had said calmly, as if it was only natural to act such a way. Bren always believed his enemies should act like enemies, it would make life so much easier in the long run.

  Bren wasn’t forced to wait too long, only about an hour, the same amount of time his mother would leave someone of a medium rank waiting. He knew that it was all a game to show the others power, and how much you mean to them. Bren felt a little disappointed, as far as they were concerned, he was only as valuable as a minor visiting noble.

  Bren had expected to find a large table with many chairs in the council chambers, but what he found was much different. It was set up much like his mother’s throne room, however, there was not one throne, but ten lined up. The chair in the center was empty so he was left to believe that it had belonged to Sae-Thae.

  He had seen many of the faces that were now in the room, but the only one he really knew was Master Carnear. Her chair was second to the end in the line, so while Sae-Thae had entrusted his position to her while he was gone, she was not a high standing member on the council.

  “Prince Farlane, do you know why you have been summoned to the council?” An older man with grey hair and a beard that nearly stretched to the ground asked loudly.

  “I have no idea master mage,” Bren replied, pretending to play innocent.

  “That is Master Turneal to you,’ the elder mage said, red faced. “You have been summoned here because you took it upon yourself to sign these,” the mage said, throwing a stack of papers at Bren.

  Bren watched as the papers flew at him. He didn’t take the time to stop and pick any of them up, having already known what they were. “I believe I have every authority to sign anything having to do with the safety of my kingdom.”

  “Your kingdom?” Turneal asked, nearly standing from his chair.

  “Yes, my kingdom,” Bren replied calmly. “This land was bequeathed to my father by the queen of Farlan and the King of Rane as his own land, separate from the two countries. When my father disappeared, the title of this land was passed down to me by his own wishes,” Bren said, holding up the paper he had found in Sae-Thae’s office.

  “That is absurd young man,” another of the mages yelled loudly, but was quickly silenced by a Turneal’s outstretched hand. “Even if your father had granted you the rights to the land, that still does not give you the right to do as you please on Tower grounds. Your father put the council in charge of the mages, so that no one person would be in charge.”

  Bren cursed as Turneal spoke. His father had created the council for just that reason, but he needed a way around that. As he thought, an idea came to him. He just hoped he could push it far enough to work.

  “I believe we have both made mistakes on that front,” Bren replied, trying to remain calm. “While my father did give control of the Tower to the council, he did not give control of the surrounding town, nor lands to the council. Yet you have still extracted taxes from my people, as well as make laws that regulate the magical races while within my country.” Bren kept his words calm, but he couldn’t help the contempt in his voice.

  “We needed funds to keep the Tower running. I am sure your father wouldn’t have minded...”

  “You do not think my father would have minded if you abused the very people he sought to protect?” Bren yelled, his anger getting the best of him. “As it is, you are lucky that I do not decide to have you all tried for your actions against my people.”

  “You little brat,” Turneal said, his face turning red as he yelled at Bren. “You are lucky I don’t have you drug to the Tower yard and have you whipped for such threats.”

  “You could try, but within a week’s time, I would have Rane and Farlan soldiers here to support me. Then it would be far worse than a lashing, which I would be giving. I would suggest you talk among yourselves, and think of a way to handle this so that we do not have to resort to bloodshed. As it is, all taxes and laws issued by the Tower are no longer in effect,” Bren said, trying to regain his composure as he turned his back on them and walked toward the door.

  We have not dismissed you!” Bren heard Turneal shout, but he ignored the mage. “Guards! Guards!” the mage yelled as a host of armored tower guards rushed into the room from the front and some hidden side door. “Take this young man down to the dungeon so that he may think
about his foolish behavior,” Turneal ordered.

  Bren thought about fighting, but knew that he was greatly outnumbered, and any resistance would give them a reason to have him thrown in the dungeon. He had already lost his calm while talking to the council, to do so again now would only invite more trouble.

  Bren was disarmed of both his sword and staff, then escorted out of the council chambers by ten armored guards. He was taken to the lowest level of the Tower. The dungeon looked almost new compared to the one below the palace. The bars were clean and the floors didn’t even have chips in the mortar. Bren doubted that anyone had been placed in them before. The doors even swung open without so much as a screech, as Bren was placed inside.

  “At least the floor and cot are clean,” Bren told himself, as he look around his new home. “I wonder how long they will keep me here.”

  Bren decided that working himself up would get him nowhere. Laying down on the, cot he found that while not comfortable, it was better than sleeping on the ground.

  Why don’t you just break out?

  Bren thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “If I did that, things could escalate quickly. I need to carefully plan out my next move.”

  Well, I will give you credit. You think farther ahead than you father ever did. Well, I won’t say that. He often thought ahead, it was just that when the time came, he usually forgot all of his plans and did whatever came to mind.

  Bren could almost swear that Thuraman was laughing. He didn’t know why, but the idea that the staff had a sense of humor seemed to bother him. Bren didn’t know how long he would have to wait, but he knew that he was tired, and thinking when one was exhausted was never good. Closing his eyes, Bren let himself drift off to sleep, happy in the knowledge that the Weapons Master couldn’t punish him for not being present in the morning.