The Making of a Mage King: White Star

by Anna L. Walls

  It was too dark to see much, but he did see Prince’s saddle and the rest of his gear piled near the fire. He knew Prince was dead, knew it in his head, but seeing his saddle lying there brought it home. He didn’t have to count the horses to feel the glaring absence.

  Jenny noticed the look in his eyes as he gazed at the forlorn pile. “He was a good horse. We’ll find another one…someday.”

  “I know,” said Sean, as he pulled himself together. “I’ll need one soon. I have to ride something…provided I can sit in a saddle.” He shifted uncomfortably and grimaced as a stab of pain shot down his leg.

  That night, Sean couldn’t sleep. It happened from time to time, when he worried about something or had overslept the day before. Sometimes it happened for no reason, and trying to figure it out would keep him awake. He had stopped trying to figure it out years ago; he also stopped trying to fight it years ago. He wasn’t even a teenager when he realized the best tactic was to get up and find something else to do. When he was little, he’d go read a book. Later, he’d go up on the roof of the apartment building and practice with his wooden sword. Recently, he’d taken to staring at the moons. Tonight, his aches kept him awake, but like always, there was no sense fighting it. He struggled to his feet and limped to the edge of camp to stand looking at the moons.

  The memory of a young man who had something to do with those moons, and magic, almost formed when the sight of a man standing silhouetted in the pale light distracted him. He appeared suddenly, and as he got closer, Sean could see that he wore a white shirt with billowing sleeves and tight, black pants. “I’ve seen some astonishing magic in my time,” said Soran, then with a chuckle. “I’ve done some astonishing magic in my day, but I’ve never seen anything like what you’ve done.” He stepped closer and rested a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “I knew that I gave my sword to the right man, but you don’t carry it today.”

  “I didn’t take the time to grab it,” said Sean. “I couldn’t let Ludwyn get away, and I wouldn’t have been fighting him with a sword when I caught him.” Sean sighed heavily. “He may have gotten away anyway.”

  “Would that shake your confidence?” asked Soran.

  Would it? I hadn’t given it much thought. He brought the big sword to his hand; bringing his left hand together with his right around the hilt of the heavy sword pulled at newly-mended muscles in his back. Shifting his shoulders to loosen them pulled at other tender places. I’m in such bad shape.

  The big man met his sword, but instead of starting, he dropped his point. “So, you are willing to fight, even being so lame you can hardly walk.” He stepped forward and ran his hand down Sean’s side, then he pulled Sean around to look at his back in the moonlight. “You’re in no condition for a fight, even in play.” He ran his hand down Sean’s back. “You shouldn’t even be walking; he traced the ropy scab that disappeared into the waist of his pants at his left hip.” He stepped back, frowning, and looked Sean in the eyes. “You would risk so much?”

  “I have to,” Sean stated grimly. “You know I do. If I don’t risk everything to win, then I lose. I lose so much more than just ‘everything’, don’t I?”

  “This is true,” said Soran, “but you don’t need to take such chances. If I was your enemy meeting you here today, your own folly would defeat you. Why don’t you heal yourself?”

  “I am healed,” Sean replied defiantly. “It just takes time for the bruising to go away.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, you’re mended. You’re in no danger of dying, but if you can heal years-old scars in muscles, bones, and the minds of men and horses, why can’t you heal such new ones in yourself?”

  Sean was stunned. Soran is right. I should be able to do this, and completely. Why can’t I?

  Soran had the answer. “It’s the distraction, isn’t it? You have to learn how to concentrate through any distraction, even pain.”

  Yes, it had to be. Nerve endings still did their job, while bone and muscle righted themselves, and they would still do their job while bruising and scarring was abruptly taken away. I need to figure out a way to do it all at once…next time. For now… He propped the point of his sword on a rock and touched a hand to his belly; oh, so many movements were centered and balanced on stomach muscles.

  In an instant Sean found himself on his knees with his arms wrapped around his middle, gasping for breath. The healing had felt as if he had suddenly done a hundred sit-ups in the span of about five seconds, but most of the bruises were gone. The stabbing pain in his left hip and knee caused by his collapse would make doing the next healing that much harder.

  “My lord, are you all right?” asked Mattie, as she knelt at his side.

  Sean looked up, his sword lay where it had clattered from his hand, but Soran was nowhere. “I’m fine, Mattie. I’m just trying to heal this bruising. I can’t afford to let it heal in its own time.”

  “You’re healing fast enough,” said Mattie.

  “I know that, and faster than normal thanks to Mountain-Wave, but until this is all over, I need to be completely ready all the time. These bruises are slowing me down. I can’t ride; hell, I can hardly walk, and swinging a sword…” He shook his head. “I don’t have time…”

  “You’re not going to be fighting anyone tomorrow,” said Mattie.

  “Probably not, but I have to be ready for it just the same.”

  “Then show me what to do,” she said. “I’ve tried, and I think I have some success, but if you want it all to go away, you need to show me how.”

  Sean studied her in the moonlight. This could work. With her concentration and my power…

  Mattie got to her feet. “Come on, back to your blankets. I certainly can’t carry you there and you can’t sleep on these rocks. It always makes them sleep.”

  Yes it did. She’s always right.

  She helped him to his feet and supported his steps.

  Once settled on his bedroll again, Sean started to explain his plan. “It’s a couple weeks worth of healing compressed into a much shorter time, and I found out that it hurts, in a way. I’m going to lend you my magic and show you how to do this, so pay attention; I’m not going to be able to concentrate for long. Are you ready?” He took her hand and rested it on his ribs. “Brush it away,” he said, using the words to help her understand. “Make it right. Make it as if it never was.”

  The magic rushed into him, accented by her particular flutter, and he was left clutching at her and gasping, but she had it now. Long before she was finished, he was left with nothing but grim determination to remain awake until it was over. He had no desire to go through it again anytime soon.

  She finished by pushing him gently into sleep, while hers and other hands eased him out flat on his blankets and covered him warmly.

  The whole thing had happened in relative silence. The loudest noise had been Sean’s sword clattering to the rocks, but it was near dawn now and others were awake, so Sean’s shivering form was soon covered with more than one blanket.

  Near noon, the smell of a small cerfin roasting over the fire finally woke Sean. The healing had worked; the bruising and grinding aches were gone, leaving behind only loose weakness, but that could be dealt with. “Who went hunting?” he asked as he sat up. “You weren’t planning on staying here, were you?”

  “Come on, Sean,” said Larry. “Deer meat’s good, besides, it was a shot I couldn’t resist. The thing almost came right into camp.”

  Sean grinned, remembering Jenny last time they had a deer to butcher. “I didn’t know you were still carrying that bow; was it a good shot or a lucky one?” He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and went over to the fire to soak up some heat.

  “It would help if you put on a clean shirt,” Mattie said softly.

  “Of course it was a good shot,” said Larry. “I’m a natural.”

  “A long hot bath would help more, but I don’t foresee one in the near future, do you?” said Sean to Mattie, as he puffed a breath of steamy air toward her. To La
rry he said, “I don’t know, Larry. It isn’t very big. Do you think there’s enough for all of us?”

  By now, Larry was standing on the other side of the fire and he reached out and picked at a piece of charred skin below a knee. “I’ll see that you get a piece of leg at least,” he said.

  “Leg! You mean this stretch of hide-covered bone?” said Sean in mock-indignation. “I know you’ll get a whole haunch to yourself if I let you. I’ll wrestle you for it. The loser gets the bone.”

  Larry, Jenny, Mattie, and even Cordan were delighted to see the lighter spirits, though Mattie was afraid they might really wrestle and was calculating how long that would set them back compared to how much supplies they had. The rest of the men were appalled that someone would even consider giving their king anything less than the choicest piece of meat, let alone wrestle with him for it.

  In the end, it was an arm-wrestling match, which Larry won. “I was wounded,” protested Sean and he demanded a rematch with a handicap; he still lost. The piece of meat he won was much closer to the shoulder than had been threatened, and he accepted it grinning; deer meat really was very good, whether from the shoulder or the haunch.

  By the time the frivolity was over and the bones picked clean, the afternoon was gone enough to make moving camp before dark scarcely worth the effort, so they remained where they were for another night. Sean would gate them back in the morning since it would be difficult for anyone to ride second with all the gear they had, and Sean wanted to take his armor back.

  Later, as Cordan and Sean were looking at the bent armor, Sean said, “I noticed you didn’t bring Laon with you.”

  “I left him in command of your new men,” replied Cordan.

  “Oh, I bet that made him real happy,” Sean said sarcastically.

  “They seemed to want some form of punishment, and I wasn’t willing to leave them to their own resources. They’ve already shown themselves to be troublemakers. With a pissed off Laon in charge, I figured they would get their punishment. It would, after all, be their fault that he had to remain behind.”

  Chuckling, Sean finished laying out the pieces of armor to make sure they were all there. “I’ll fix these when we get back, then we move on, provided we can escape Lady Lorraine’s feast. What’s next? I don’t have my map. We still have another stop east of here, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we’re almost three quarters of the way there now,” he said, pointing at the mountain peaks south of them. “Those peaks are right on their southwestern border, and if we were on the other side of this ridge, we might be able to see the Rhenus River that marks our easternmost border. It isn’t a very wide district. The capital city of Argentora is on the river, roughly northeast of here.”

  “Too bad we have to go back to get the rest of them. There’s no more ‘family’ there, is there?” asked Sean, remembering with a chill his vision of the destruction of his mother’s family at the hands of his uncle.

  “I don’t think so, sir, though there might be some of a bastard branch down in Mulkov. That’s not too far from Rein Pass.”

  “Rein Pass, I mentioned it to Ramire. Why does that sound familiar?” asked Sean, as he followed Cordan around the edge of the rockslide.

  Cordan looked at him oddly. “The most famous battle in our history took place there. Your ancestor, King Soran, fought back the Aarauians, thus establishing the border along the Rhenus River north, then along the mountain ranges extending south to the coast and creating our own country. That pass earned the name ‘Break-Back Pass’ because the battle broke the military power of the Aarauians. They never really recovered and have paid a tribute to ensure the peace ever since. Or, at least they used to pay us a tribute; I don’t know what Ludwyn may have done with that.”

  So, my border is all very logical, won by battle, and set on clearly visible lines. It’s comforting somehow, but I really need to read the history. The memories are all well and good, but there are so many holes in it all, and so much clutter.

  All thoughts of borders were banished from his mind when his nose detected an odor he couldn’t quite identify, but when his eyes found the source, that was forgotten too.

  “Sorry sir, but the men and I really thought you should see this before we left, so you would know…so you wouldn’t be left wondering,” said Cordan.

  Unwilling to touch it with anything, even a stick, Sean pilfered through the pile of bloody pieces of fly-encrusted meat, and leather using air magic. He turned over a few pieces, especially lifting and turning a piece of skull with white hair still attached, then he shoved it all deep into the stone with revulsion, angering the swarm of flies that suddenly found themselves devoid of their feast. Turning from the sight, white-faced, he made no comment as he headed back to the fire.

  Back to Base Camp

  Morning couldn’t come soon enough for Sean. After seeing the remains of his uncle, he had no appetite for supper, and sleep eluded him completely, again, and he couldn’t even blame his aches. Staring at the moons was no comfort, and working with his sword only fed his temper, so he sat down near the fire and stared into the flames. He poked sticks into the coals now and then to keep the flames dancing enough to hypnotize his mind into silence. His thoughts, those he couldn’t completely silence, churned. What am I turning into? How much of my uncle’s blood runs in my veins? He didn’t like those thoughts and did his best to burn them up in the flames of the fire.

  Though he never made a move or said a word to anyone, by the time dawn arrived, everyone was walking on eggshells around him. Horses were saddled and their supplies were loaded before the top edge of the sun had cleared the eastern horizon. Forgoing even a cold breakfast, they prepared to leave.

  The activity of moving camp helped Sean’s mood, and by the time Prince’s saddle was perched on top of one horse and his armor tied onto another saddle, he was more than willing to open a gate.

  Loading his saddle, however, reminded him of how valuable their gear was; it reminded him of the days he had taken to make much of it himself. They stepped out in the place where Ludwyn had lost his. He’d given it scarcely a glance in passing before. Three leg bones from the knees down, and a hoof and fetlock protruded from the stone. The rest of the bones and gear lay some yards away. After more than a week, little remained that scavengers hadn’t savaged, and the smell was ghastly despite being frozen. Finding nothing worth salvaging, they went the rest of the way to camp.

  Sean was careful to open the gate several hundred yards from camp. After his first efforts at the palace, he didn’t want to risk opening the gate where someone might accidentally be. He had no idea what might happen, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

  Their entry into camp was greeted with cheers, and it did much to lighten Sean’s gloomy mood.

  Manuel ran up, and throwing all of his gruff formality to the wind, he pulled Sean into a big bear hug that almost knocked him from his feet. Laughing and suddenly embarrassed at his less-than-proper behavior, he said, “Uh…pardon me, my lord, but I’m that happy to see you back safe and whole.”

  The greeting was enough to wipe the rest of Sean’s dark thoughts away. “Good to be back, Manuel. I hope my absence hasn’t caused any problems.”

  “None as wasn’t normal,” said Manuel. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands. “Lady Lorraine sends a messenger out every day to ask after you. That’s about the biggest excitement of the day without you here.”

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about that much longer. Ready the men, we’ll be moving on in the morning,” said Sean. His plan was to spend the day regrouping. Lady Lorraine was firmly where she belonged and needed to concentrate on her business over and above entertaining him.

  He led the two horses that carried his gear over to his tent and started to unload them. Larry was there, and Paddn appeared in time to help him unload his armor. Charles, who had arrived with Paddn, led the horses away once they were free of Sean’s things.

  “Pardon me, my lord,” said Manu
el, “but I agree with the lady. You need to be seen by the people. You should go. What you’re doing is good, but you need to be the one to take credit for it. You have already been seen, and even felt, down in the valley, but I’m willing to bet that very few people up here know more than a rumor about you, and I hate to think it, but how many of those touched with magic did you cast adrift up here in the mountains? How many that only went a little batty, but couldn’t make it to the capital before it was over? What happened to them? You need to be seen, sir.”

  Sean stifled a groan. “Manuel, are you telling me that I need to stop hopping across the country?” It seemed as though a ticking clock was echoing in the back of his brain.

  Manuel shifted uncomfortably, but held his ground. “I wouldn’t be so bold as to tell you what to do, but…well…perhaps at least ride through the more populated lands. The people need to see you.”

  “I’ll think on it,” said Sean, as he saw Elias and his brother approaching. For the first time in a long time, he longed for his simple life back in New York City where the only time he had to put himself on display was when he participated in the tournaments, and even then, he was only one among many contestants. Manuel bowed his way out of further discussion, and Sean turned to his gear.

  Paddn was holding the twisted shoulder piece and he touched the gem with a shy finger. “What happened to this?” he asked, as Elias picked up another piece and waited for the response.

  “I’m not all that sure,” replied Sean. “Part of it anyway is from when Prince fell over on me, but that’s not all of it. There’s more damage than just that, but I don’t remember anything else.”

  “Are you going to take it to a smithy?” asked Gérard.

  “I was thinking that I might fix it here, with magic. Would you like to help?” he asked Paddn. I wonder if the boy is missing his magic yet.