The man led them to a dark door in the back of a building, then into a back room lit only by smoky oil lamps. He stopped them only far enough into the room to close the door behind them.
Charles sat in one corner looking small and forlorn in the big wooden chair, and pacing in the middle of the room was the other man who had been sitting at that table. He stopped his pacing at their entrance and gave the three of them a long look. “Where are the others?”
“They vanished,” replied their guide.
The questioner looked directly at Sean. “You sent them away? Where?”
“I did; they’re safe,” replied Sean.
The man studied them a moment longer, then he turned to Charles. “Is that him?”
“Yes,” said Charles. “If you had let me go, I could have brought him here and you wouldn’t have lost two of your men.”
So, he had already received a report about the fight.
The man sighed and started to pace again. He sighed again and said, “What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Nothing,” said Sean. “A better question to ask would be: what am I going to do with you, Ruihano Rotomas?” It was a guess, and an honest question. If this man was who Sean suspected, what would he do with him? Could he set someone who seemed like a mob boss on top of the pyramid again? What had the past seventeen years of oppression done to him?
At the sound of the name, the man’s eyes riveted on Sean. “You have no power to call me ruihano and I have no strength to hold it. I am only Tomas these days, nothing more.”
“Oh I don’t know,” said Sean. “I am more powerful than you think. So, are you telling me that you don’t want it, or that you’re not up to it?”
He reared back at the challenge. “Now listen here, boy. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sean leaned into his challenge. “Then educate me, old man.”
“Ludwyn,” the name came out with a snarl, “put a bounty on my head that has raped my standing and turned me and my family into little better than rabbits. The only reason my son and I are still alive is because I make it well worth Coram’s time to shelter me.”
“My uncle now tags along with me under a black scarf and is utterly powerless, so there is no one to pay on that bounty anymore. I’m willing to walk into the garrison and make sure everyone there knows that, but there’s no point in taking the risk if you aren’t willing to take command of what’s left. I happen to think you might be worth the effort, after all, you are still alive despite my uncle’s bounty.”
“Your uncle? Are you claiming to be Ludwyn’s nephew? I didn’t think he had any family left; no one that close anyway,” and then the rest of what Sean had said settled into his brain. “He’s powerless? You keep him under a black scarf?” Disbelief was in every muscle of Rotomas’s body.
Sean brought Ludwyn to them. He had been sitting on a chair that didn’t come with him, so he was dumped unceremoniously on the floor between them. He sat there for a few moments then climbed slowly to his feet with difficulty since his hands were tied. His white hair and face were clearly recognizable through the sheer black scarf, but the effect no longer resembled granite, he just looked old now.
Both Rotomases took a step back at his appearance, but when he just stood there, making no move or sound, they got bolder. “Then it’s true,” said the elder Rotomas.
Rotomas the younger took a step forward. “I’ve waited my whole life for an opportunity like this.” He reached out and made a slow fist and Ludwyn’s dark eyes opened wide and his mouth gaped.
His bound hands were clutching at his throat before Sean realized what was happening. He cut off the spell and Ludwyn gasped at air raggedly. “I can understand your sentiment, but I’m not done with him yet. He will see me put every one of the lords back in power before I let him die, unless he forces my hand sooner.”
The man tried again then let out a strangled roar when a third attempt also failed. Sean gripped the man’s wrist. “I’ll shield you too, if I have to.”
He threw Sean’s hand off and stood panting in his fury.
Sean turned back to the elder Rotomas. “Will you take what I’m handing you?”
He stood staring at the recovering old man between them, and Sean watched as his eyes sank into a hardness he hadn’t seen before. “Yes,” he said in a harsh whisper, then he looked directly at Sean. “Yes I will. I’ll take back what is mine or die trying.”
“Yes,” hissed Charles from his corner.
Sean turned to him. “Tell the girls everything is just fine. Have whoever is left in command keep a rear guard with the horses and send everyone else to me. I’ll be somewhere near the market square.”
“They won’t make it through the gates,” said the elder Rotomas.
“They will if I take the gates away,” replied Sean as he sent Charles back to the camp to deliver his message.
After Charles was gone, the man looked at his empty chair for a moment. “He said he worked for the new king. I guess he does.” He looked at Sean. “What are you doing with a little scamp like that?”
“That little scamp is usually very handy, provided he doesn’t get himself stuck,” said Sean.
As they went out of the front door, Sean realized that it was the same bar where he had bought their beer. With a word here and a word there, Rotomas the elder, who went by Tomas these days, sent men running, and as long as he could see them, they spread the word and still more men were sent running. It reminded Sean of a domino run; first one domino fell, which knocked over the next, then three were knocked over, and a few inches later, each of those three knocked over three more, and on and on, until there were so many different things going on at once, it was hard to keep track of it all.
Shortly before they stepped into the town square, Mattie called, “My lord, would you please calm your horse. I, for one, would feel much better if you were riding him.”
He had to smile, but he did as she asked. “Prince, settle down; be good.” He soothed the horse while he was being saddled. As soon as Sean felt that the task was done, he said, “Find me.” He also covered him with a shield like he had done back at his aunt’s farm. He would appear like a destrier running wild and any guards who saw him would try to kill him. As he thought of it, the horse just might be the distraction they would need in order to have time to prepare.
As Sean and the others entered the market square, he signaled to those of his men who were in sight and they began to converge on him. As they reached him, a touch told him where their armor was. He brought it to them and they began to suit up. They had all ridden into the city, but they had left their horses at the various outlying stables, so these men would be on foot, but that might be for the best since the streets here were just as narrow here as they had been in Caen.
Also converging on them loosely was a growing number of other men. Until they began to move, Sean hadn’t noticed them; they were no different than the rest of the people who swarmed the market, at least they were no different until they started moving.
Sean’s growing group, especially since many of them were putting armor on, caught the attention of those who saw their responsibility as keeping the peace. Some of those also converged on them while others disappeared, likely to bring up reinforcements.
“What’s going on here?” said one of the constables, as soon as he had a clear field of challenge between them.
Tomas stepped forward to address him. “Stand down, Dreux.”
“Tomas,” said Dreux. “What are you up to? I don’t bother with you because I like you and because you have always kept a low profile, but I can’t overlook this.”
Sean assessed the man as he spoke. He was older than the younger Rotomas, Andelys, and he was a big man. He wore a silver rope at his shoulder that was likely some symbol of rank. “Why don’t you join us?” asked Sean. “I think you’re a fair man and you know who is supposed to be in charge.”
Dreux looked Sean over. His eyes lingere
d on the emblem on his shoulder, then back to his face and the silver circlet on his head. “I have my orders.”
“Your orders no longer have any foundation,” said Sean, as he pulled Ludwyn into view. He didn’t expect that the man had ever seen the king in person, but he would be surprised if he didn’t know what the man looked like. The fact that he stood here bound and shrouded had a profound effect on him.
“My…king,” he stammered.
“He is not your king anymore,” said Sean. “I am.”
Dreux’s eyes swiveled back to Sean. “How could you have done this?”
“Because I am my father’s son. My father was the rightful heir to the throne of his father…” Ludwyn shifted and growled almost inaudibly. Sean turned to him. “You were unsuitable to rule. That’s why you could never bring yourself to wear the crown, could you?” Ludwyn’s eyes shifted away from the crown on Sean’s head, and that, as little else could, shamed him in the eyes of Dreux.
Dreux stuck to his guns, though. “I have responsibilities; I am charged with maintaining the peace. You must disperse and leave the city.”
“I can’t do that,” said Sean. “My business isn’t finished yet.” By now, the last of his men who were already in the city had joined him. He moved through them and brought the last of their armor then he went back to the constable. “You do what you have to do. We’ll ride over you, or we’ll ride past you, the choice is yours.”
Then there was a commotion from the other side of the market square. There were a few screams audible over the roar of the market still undisturbed and in full swing, then Sean saw the beginnings of people scattering. Prince had arrived. Sean was pleased to see that he wasn’t going out of his way to attack people, but then neither was he going out of his way to avoid them. Sean winced when he saw him bowl over a man who didn’t get out of his way in time. His head was low and his neck was stretched out. He looked like he had been following his master’s scent, but he seemed to lose it in the crush of humanity. In frustration, he reared up and screamed a call. People all around the square vanished as fast as they possibly could, leaving him surrounded by a contingent of guards who were valiantly trying to stop him any way they could.
“Prince! Here!” yelled Sean across the suddenly much quieter square.
Prince charged across the square toward them causing most of the guards around him to dive from his path. The massive mountain of horseflesh skidded to a halt in front of Sean and shoved his face into his chest. He was blowing and sweating from what must have been a very frightening run through a strange city.
The constable, Dreux, backpedaled when the big horse came thundering over, and he continued to retreat when he saw Sean climb up on him. Sean could see in his face that he had just become something akin to a demon.
The rest of Sean’s men, coming in hot on Prince’s heels, were the last straw for the man. He signaled for his men and they vanished down another street.
“He’ll warn the garrison,” said Andelys.
“I’m sure he will,” said Sean. He wasn’t the slightest bit worried about what Dreux would tell the garrison commander, they had already received several messengers with news of trouble by now.
Tomas to Rotomas
Sean was pleased to see that a little time had been spared to round up some of their horses from the stables where they had been left. Now, only about a quarter of his men were afoot.
He turned to Cordan. “Take Leo, about twenty mounted and half of the foot and go around to the dock side of the garrison. Have Andelys, and as many of his men who are willing, go with you and show you the best way to get there. He moved over to Leo. “You’re their most dangerous asset, stay alert, and stay alive.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the man.
Sean turned to face the rest of them. “Ruihano Rotomas, are you ready for this?” he asked, as he put his helmet on.
The name started as a whispered echo, which surged into a chant that came close to being a war cry as they started to move.
In a city this size, Sean knew that they would be horribly outnumbered, and that translated down to: he couldn’t afford to be gentle or lenient. If they raised a sword against them, they had to die quickly and finally. There would be no prisoners, not until the odds became a lot more even.
They moved slower than they had at Caen, but that was because they had men on foot. It was probably a good thing, though; it gave them time to watch the roofs. They wouldn’t be charging into an ambush quite so fast this time.
Having grown up in a very tall city, Sean knew how easy it was to take the buildings for granted; they are a perimeter to your perception and nothing more. As such a perimeter, they can be forgotten or tuned out, that is until they reach out and slap you. After Caen, Sean didn’t think he would ever take buildings for granted again.
The garrison commander didn’t take them for granted either. The first attack came from a rooftop vantage point in the distance and it was magic. Fortunately, it was directed at what appeared to be the most dangerous component of their force: Manuel and Sean and their known direction of entry. Manuel’s horse reared and screamed, as did Manuel himself, though he choked his scream back and quickly pulled his horse back under control. Prince did a kind of duck-and-dive, which almost unseated his rider, but Sean was still able to find the mage and stop him before he could launch a second attack.
Sean glanced at Manuel; he had a bloody nose, but other than that, he looked all right and the snarl on his face said that he still had more fight left in him. They kept moving.
A few hundred yards later, two demons came at them from around a corner. A couple months ago, Sean would have sent them to the palace and his uncle without much thought, but that was out of the question now. He also couldn’t just drop them back inside the garrison walls because he didn’t know exactly where that was yet and he didn’t want to put them in someone’s house, though the chances of him missing walls was pretty slim. Instead, they just died; one second they were charging and the next second they were tumbling onto the street like ragdolls thrown by a child’s hand. Manuel and Sean trotted on over them, the horses missing the bodies only in the interest of secure footing. The smaller horses had only a little more trouble and some of that might have been the smell; they had not been trained for something like this. The men just muttered and went around them.
When they rounded the corner, Sean saw the next stage of their defenses. Clustered at the end of the street was a company of footmen with archers. Sean strongly suspected that their appearance was a bit of a surprise; since they couldn’t see around the corner, they didn’t know how close their opponents were. They had been listening for the sounds of battle to tell them where they were as if the sound of their horses’ hooves on the cobbles wasn’t enough. Or maybe they weren’t expected to appear with so little fuss.
They had another mage among their ranks and that man launched a massive fireball at the Sean. A volley of arrows followed the fireball as if riding its contrail. Sean rolled a ball of water back at them and the resulting explosion of steam caused the arrows to careen off course. He pushed that water that was still intact on into the men who were still clustered in the mouth of the street, and their hasty barricade was broken apart as if it had been hit by a bowling ball.
Sean and his men were upon them before many of them could secure their footing on the wet cobbles; many of them didn’t move at all. Most of those who could, scattered. Some of them threw down their swords and held up their hands in surrender. That was fine with Sean; he glued them to the nearest walls. He would catch up with those who had fled sooner or later; at least they weren’t behind him.
As Sean cleared the street, he came out into what looked like a large, paved parade field before the walls of the compound itself. Around the square, other street-heads had been fortified as well. Surely they didn’t have to guess which direction I was coming from. Did they release demons down every street? It was one thing to send those insane creatures after a th
reatening armed force; it’s quite another to turn them loose in a city to find whatever they could find. What if they saw some child playing in the street? What if they found some old man smoking a pipe? Even a man in his prime and armed as Sean had seen many men in the city were, would have little chance against a crazed demon and his equally crazed horse.
“Cordan, have you come across any demons yet?”
“No, my lord, but then we’re not all that close yet.”
Through the link, Sean could tell that he had a vague impression of being several blocks away still, and he was sure that Cordan could tell the same way that he was within sight of the walls. “Watch for them. If they have more than two of them, they may be running loose in the streets. And be careful; they have mages too.”
Cordan’s response was a grim growl, then Sean had something else to worry about. A mage, now behind him, because he had either slipped in the water and had been knocked senseless, or because he had been pretending, was gathering up another fireball. Sean felt the gathering magic, picked him up out of the water and he burst into flames all in the span of a heartbeat. He had been powerful enough to mount a strong attack, but he lacked the skill to call the fire back. Sean should have killed him the instant he detected him, but instead he had picked him up, which meant that he used a hard shell of air to lift him from the ground. Instead of making the fire where his enemy was, he had sought to throw it like a ball. The fire couldn’t go anywhere. Watching someone burst into flame and burn to death is not very pleasant. Sean couldn’t drop him back into the water fast enough to save him from that demise.
He turned away from the sight and struggled to contain the contents of his stomach, then they were fighting again. Issuing from the garrison gate and coming at them from the other street heads that he could see, were what added up to be several hundred men with their archers and their mages. At least Sean’s appearance attracted the mages away from his other troops.
The Making of a Mage King: White Star Page 5
