The Making of a Mage King: White Star

by Anna L. Walls

  “Now look here, mister…” Then he noticed the crest that was on all of their shoulders. Sean had elected to come here first as a common soldier in order to gage the reaction of the town’s people to his men. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? I don’t care what your business is; you get yourself and your friends here out of town. You’re not welcome. You’ve caused enough trouble around here just by existing.” None of them moved a muscle to comply or even to protest. The man stepped back and made as if to draw his sword. “Are you going to leave?”

  “No, we’re not,” said Sean. “Why don’t you go get your commander? I think I might like to speak with him.”

  “Captain General Basse ain’t going to want anything to do with the likes of you,” said the man, his hand still on the hilt of his sword.

  Sean almost burst out with a loud guffaw at that. Basse was exactly who he was looking for, but he wasn’t about to tell that to this oaf. “Why don’t you let him decide that? My name is Seanad Ruhin; he should recognize the name. We’ll wait here.”

  After the man had huffed himself out of sight, Sean turned to Larry. “I didn’t expect to find Basse on the first try.”

  “You’re looking for the commander of the garrison?” asked Larry. “Are you sure you have the right name?”

  “It’s the right name, but perhaps it won’t be the right man. We’ll see when he gets here,” Sean replied.

  “Do you think he’ll come?” asked Jenny.

  “If my name doesn’t bring him, curiosity will, I think,” Sean replied, hoping it was true. When the barmaid came back, they ordered a pitcher of beer. At the moment, waiting seemed to be the best thing to do.

  As they sat there, Sean noticed several of his men filtering through the square sampling the wears and talking to the people. He was pleased to see that they seemed to be received amiably. He could see a few smiles and some laughter. He spotted Charles once too, but he wasn’t talking to anyone at the time.

  After three hours, no one had come to their table and the café staff was getting irritated with them just sitting there.

  They left the café and headed toward the port. The smell of fish greeted them long before the docks came into view. As they strolled along the length of the dock, Sean was impressed by the number of slips he saw. They were nearly all empty and the activity on the docks was at a minimum; apparently, the fishermen were all out fishing. Elias had taken Sean to the docks on the south end of New York City once and there was no comparison, but then the purpose of each dock was also drastically different. The visible rocks out beyond the breakers were the reason there were no bigger ships docking here.

  An old woman tottered out to meet them. “White Star, White Star,” she said with some difficulty. It looked like she had no teeth. She came right up to Sean and patted her hands on his chest. “White Star, will you bless my grandson? Both of his parents were taken by the sea and I’m getting so old. Bless him, White Star, for luck. Let him have a longer life than his father.”

  A blessing? No one had ever asked him for a blessing before. Sean had healed people, some of them deeper than anyone thought possible, but a blessing? How do you do a blessing? And how did she know who he was?

  As he puzzled over this, he let the old woman pull him along. She led them into a narrow, two-story hovel. The building was squeezed between other buildings that provided an assortment of purposes connected to the fishing industry, and this one was no different. Though the building looked like it didn’t stand a chance of remaining upright on its own; it was warm inside.

  The ground floor was hung thickly with fishing nets of all kinds. Most of them looked like they were here for repairs, but there was a few that looked to be new.

  The woman led Sean through the maze of nets to a set of rickety stairs at the back. As she opened the door at the top, the smell of a hearty fish stew greeted them, but what also greeted them was the sight of a small boy of about five or six sitting in the middle of the floor.

  “A’ma?” he asked, as he looked in their direction with sightless eyes.

  “Yes, Shim,” said the old woman. “I’ve brought the White Star. He’s going to bless you.”

  The boy stood and came over to them. As he got closer, Sean could see that there was no hope for his eyes. They were shriveled and wrinkled like two discolored raisins set in his head. Regardless, he approached them unerringly until he could grasp his grandmother’s skirts.

  Sean knelt in front of him and cupped his cheek, then suddenly he drifted in an otherness that left him in the background while another stepped forward. “Danio Shim, mahlē yōhō dō galêeo shumutàlē.” With that, Sean touched his thumb between the boy’s eyebrows. Then the otherness was gone and Sean was forced to drop his hand to the floor to keep his balance. Dimly, almost like an indistinct echo, he understood what he had said, ‘Mr. Shim, may luck shadow all of your days.’ Mr. was a dim translation of the word danio; a more accurate meaning would be man of the family.

  As Sean pulled himself stiffly to his feet, he felt Larry’s fist grip his shirt from behind to lend him much needed balance without being noticed.

  The old woman was hugging the boy who was still rubbing the spot between his brows. Left behind by Sean’s thumb was a light brown oval much like Hélène’s mark, except for the shape. “Oh, Lord,” said the old woman in a reverent whisper. “Oh White Star, thank you. Thank you so very much. Such a blessing will see him far from the docks and far from the sea. Thank you, thank you.”

  Sean cupped the boy’s cheek again. “That it may well do, a’ma, but it is no guarantee of a long life.” He was not sure the old woman registered his cautionary words. She was holding and rocking her grandson with tears rolling down her face. The boy was touching the wet with his small fingers as he patted her cheek, so Sean and his friends retreated quietly.

  Larry kept his fist snagged in Sean’s shirt until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Once they were outside, he asked, “What did you say? You did it again…you spoke that old language.”

  “I need a drink,” said Sean. “All I said was ‘may luck shadow your days’, or something like that. Damn, that was weird.” Sean shoved his fingers through his hair; it was starting to get long again.

  They all made their way back to the main part of town to find that his men, those who were in town, had been rounded up and disarmed. They had been grouped into a single clump while the man who had spoken to them at the café dug through them roughly, most likely looking for Sean. A man who stood slightly to the side and aloof from the proceedings.

  “Basse,” called Sean over the uneasy hubbub of the crowd. The man spun around at the sound of his name. “I’ve been looking for you.” Sean strode directly up to him; his grandfather’s heavy swords were suddenly a noticeable weight at his hips. Sean didn’t stop until he was almost literally toe-to-toe with him. “What took you so long?”

  “I had a problem to solve,” he replied calmly as he studied Sean’s face.

  “Did you solve it?” The two of them could have been twins if there hadn’t been ten years difference in their ages.

  “Not yet. We need to talk,” he said quietly for Sean’s ears only.

  Sean reached up and rested a hand on Basse’s shoulder, then he sent his men and their weapons back to the camp. They would likely suit up and return with reinforcements, but that was okay; it would keep Basse and his men honest. Basse swayed under his hand. Sean had used much of Basse’s energy to teleport his men, which put Basse at a disadvantage and brought him down a peg, without advertising the fact to his men. Quietly Sean said, “I agree. Lead the way.”

  Basse’s men were in confusion with the sudden disappearance of the fifteen some odd men they had been guarding, but he waved them to silence, then led off down another street. When they reached the gates to the garrison, Basse dismissed his men completely and led them into the building and to a room that could only be his office. He left again for a few moments to return with a couple more chairs, then
he locked the door.

  After they were all seated, he said, “You’re him, aren’t you, the White Star? My uncle talks of nothing else. He says he saw you at the gathering outside of Ruhin; he says you danced the Dance. He says that only the White Star could do the things you did.”

  “I don’t know what all your uncle saw, but yes, I’m him, I’m Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin.”

  The man rocked back as Sean recited his name, but it didn’t stop him. “What are you doing here? What do you want with me?”

  “It’s my intention to reinstate the political structure that was in place under my grandfather. If your uncle is the head of your family then I need to speak with him.”

  “You can’t just reinstate the old nobility on your say so. There are too many people who like things the way they are.”

  “It’s my hope that I’ll be able to tell who such people are and eliminate them from the mix. Tomorrow, I’ll ride into town displaying my colors for all to see. You bring your uncle or your father here. Make sure your men are available to watch my entrance.”

  “You think your entrance will spark a fight?” asked Basse.

  “Men who are loyal to you will gather to protect where you are. Men who are here for power and greed will, at the very least, push to attack, provided they don’t desert outright,” Sean replied.

  “You’re sure of this?” asked Basse.

  Sean rethought his plan, then nodded. “Pretty sure.” He didn’t tell Basse that he would have several troops stationed in and around the town to forestall any other trouble.

  “What about me?” asked Basse.

  “What about you? You’re in command here. I couldn’t ask for a better commander. Unless you have a problem with my rule, I’m happy to leave you in command.”

  They didn’t talk much longer; Sean didn’t want his men to come charging into town and find nothing. He was sure Charles would know exactly where he was, and he would tell them if they found him. Sean also wanted to hear what Charles had learned from the town’s underworld. I wonder just how different the truth of the underworld is from the truth I see.

  Sean met his men on the edge of the market square. They brought spare mounts for all of them, but Prince wasn’t among them. When he took the reins from Cordan, he said, “Your beast wasn’t in a cooperative mood and we were in a hurry.”

  Sean shrugged and mounted, using the move to look for Charles. Everyone in the market square was watching them, but he saw no sign of Charles. I hope he’s not in trouble.

  Charles didn’t show up until well after dark. Sean was pacing around the watch fire and driving both Larry and Cordan nuts by the time he was brought in on the back of one of the sentry’s horses and dropped off, then the man returned to his post without further explanation. Charles strode up to the fire and held his hands out to the warmth. He didn’t look any worse for the wear, so they all watched him in silence until he felt the pressure of their eyes and looked around. “What? What are you all looking at me for? I didn’t learn anything you didn’t already find out for yourselves. The second son of the Basse family is the commander of the garrison. The eldest son was taken by the king…uh…Ludwyn…eight years ago and never seen again. Their father died three years later and the rest of the family went into hiding shortly thereafter. I think they’ve been coming around more often in the last few years, but no one uses their name, so everyone is protecting them. The commander holds his position by sheer guts and the rumor that his name is just a coincidence.”

  “That’s a lot more than I learned,” said Sean. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, that kid you blessed…the whole dockside is talking about your blessing. Anyway, he’s something like a third or fourth cousin, though not by marriage. He was the only survivor found in his parents’ fishing boat. He had just been born within hours of being found.”

  “That means he was another product of my uncle’s,” said Sean bitterly. “Ludwyn didn’t know that the boy’s mother was pregnant when he snatched them from their boat. Why else would there be a newborn infant out in a fishing boat? What was their name? Did you catch that?”

  “It was ‘Calvados’.”

  Sean reached into the darkness back to the palace. “Franklin, can you hear me? Franklin, wake up and answer me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m awake. I’m awake. What is it?”

  Sean felt his desire to strike a light, then his confusion when he saw no one in the room. “This is not a dream; it’s Ruhin, now wake up the rest of the way. I need you to tell me if we have any survivors there by the name of Calvados.”

  Sean could feel him trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Calvados, Calvados, I don’t recognize the name. Just a minute, let me look. You told me to keep track of who wrote and who didn’t.” Sean felt him move to another location. “I still think you should let me keep track of what they wrote, but I haven’t transcribed anything bad. Calvados, Calvados, Calvados,” he muttered. Then finally, “Yes, I have a Calvados woman here; she’s one of the worse cases, though. No one can get through to her long enough to understand much of anything. I doubt they ever will. I’m surprised we got a name out of her.”

  “I see.” Sean thought for a while. “Franklin, I want you to sit with her tomorrow. I’ll be in touch sometime during the day.” He broke the connection. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he wanted to do something to help that little blind boy and his mother. They weren’t going to make it off the docks without some kind of help.

  After they had all gone to bed, Sean lay awake. He dug out the hairpiece Armelle had given him. He wished for someone to play a little music. He wanted to dance with his wife. She always had such a glorious way of ending the Dance.

  He slipped out of bed without waking Charles and dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, his last pair. Maybe I’ll go back to New York City just to go shopping. Maybe I’ll take Armelle; I wonder what she’d think. Dressed, he took up his ancestor’s great sword. He hadn’t had very many chances to practice with it since he got it.

  He slipped out of his tent and went to the edge of camp. He stood there for a few minutes looking at the two moons peeking through the clouds, showing their freshly washed faces. The air felt wet enough to wring out, but there had been no rain. He saluted the moons and wished for some of the technology of Earth that could explain their two drastic differences. Legends and myths were all very exotic, but he was curious.

  The moons were just below the horizon when the watch commander, a man by the name of Saris, found him. “My lord, Lord Morgan is looking for you. Young Master Charles is having a bit of a fit.”

  Sean finished his set and looked at the man. It took him a moment to recognize the name ‘Morgan’. He almost never used Larry’s last name. He strode back toward his tent thanking the man as he passed. It was time to get ready for his grand entrance.

  As he closed on the watch fire, he saw Larry raking his fingers through his hair with Jenny fussing over him for doing it with his fingers instead of a comb. Sean smiled when he looked up and saw him; he too smiled as he took the comb from Jenny and started to pull it through his hair. They both needed a haircut.

  Charles burst out of the tent just as Sean was about to pull the flap aside and they collided. Fortunately, Sean wasn’t holding his sword in front of him, or the boy would have skewered himself. He hastily pulled himself together and said, “You were gone. I was worried.”

  “I’m frequently gone, why were you worried?” asked Sean.

  “I just have a bad feeling about that town. You shouldn’t go there by yourself.”

  “Really?” Sean looked over his shoulder toward the town, though he couldn’t see it because they were camped was out of sight in a valley. “I wasn’t going to go into town alone, but thanks for the warning. I’ll be more cautious.”

  Wrongs Made Right

  After Sean was suited up in all of his metal glory and had managed to choke down a partial bowl of gruel, they all mounted up. The camp w
as packed and loaded. Seth and his men would move the horses north and find a place where they could cross the river. They would all leave as soon as this business was finalized. Sean made Charles and the girls go with them, though they weren’t too happy about it.

  Sean then sent select squads of men to strategic locations in and around the city. After giving them a chance to reach their positions, Sean, leading the rest of his men, headed in. Prince seemed to know that they were making a special display and decided to step especially high. It was an odd, bouncy gait, but it wasn’t unduly rough. The city gates stood wide open and deserted, so they entered uncontested. This should have indicated that trouble was afoot, but Sean missed the clue since nothing else seemed amiss; only a single guard had watched over the gate yesterday.

  They reached the edge of the market square just as morning could be said to be in full swing, and once again everyone stopped what they were doing to watch their entrance. The people were slightly more alarmed than they’d been before. A warhorse with an armored rider was a very frightening sight, and there were three of them. Another rider shrouded all in black and tied to his saddle started a wave of murmurs and whispers. The way the people were all poised, it was certain that if their entrance had been any more exciting, everyone in sight would have gone running and screaming.

  Sean led them on through the square toward the street that led to the garrison. Now that he was mounted, the street felt far narrower than Sean liked and he was beginning to feel cramped. Suddenly Larry was launched out of his saddle with a cry. Sean scarcely had time to register the arrow that protruded from Larry’s shoulder before he rolled out from under the horses to the dubious cover of the building wall.

  Another arrow buzzed past Sean’s face and he looked up to the rooftops to find the archers. His men, those who had bows, were returning fire, but they had few targets to shoot at. All Sean had to do was see the smallest portion of the man and he had him disarmed and hanging down in front of them in an instant. Within moments, he had accumulated seven men and no more arrows were coming at them.