The Making of a Mage King: White Star

by Anna L. Walls

  “By the time the Aarauians were broken… That’s why the pass is called ‘Broke Back Pass’; the battle for the pass broke them so badly they never recovered. By the time they were driven back, the five brothers were left with only five to ten men each, but the system had worked so well that…Soran left them where they were. He rebuilt their numbers from his own men, as well as men and boys who had stayed here, either because they had been wounded in earlier battles or because they had been too young. Each of the five units patrol overlapping strips through the pass, and they each have a watchtower at their disposal, but it wasn’t just a watchtower.”

  Sean could picture the labor that had gone into building those towers. Whole trees had been stacked in a vast pyramid three or four stories high, then covered with pitch. “They weren’t constructed only as stationary posts. They are all tall, built to be used as a lookout for sure, but also to be set ablaze as an alarm, should the patrols encounter any trouble. Enough men are kept stationed at the stockade to hold the pass until reinforcements can arrive from here. We’ll be visiting each of those towers, where we will meet the patrols. I’d be surprised if it isn’t a ‘changing of the guard’ as well. We could be out there for a couple days.”

  Jenny plucked at her dress. “If we’re going to be riding, we should have our riding clothes. Elias was in such a hurry, I didn’t have time to grab anything.”

  “You don’t have to go, Jenny,” said Sean. “You girls could stay here and explore the city if you like.”

  “No, Sean,” she said, with a tone that said he wasn’t to argue the issue.

  “Fine,” he said with a smile. He closed his eyes. A few moments later, their gear began to arrive. Jenny’s leathers were folded in a neat pile that appeared on the foot of the bed she and Larry were sitting on. Larry’s gear involved pieces of plate armor and he kept it on a stand much like Sean did; that stand appeared in the middle of the floor. Elias’s gear appeared a few minutes later, followed soon after by Clayton’s. Mattie’s bundle was much like Jenny’s, and it appeared next to her on Sean’s bed. Armelle didn’t have any leathers; Sean could make her whatever she wanted later. He opened his eyes to see the small room now quite crowded. “If I missed anything, just let me know and I’ll get it for you.”

  “What about you?” asked Armelle. She reached over to touch the spot on his chest where the gem crest she had made for him would be if he’d been wearing his armor.

  His heart did a skip and he nearly shooed everyone out of the room on the spot.

  “That reminds me,” said Larry. “I haven’t seen Laon. He’s your bodyguard. It wouldn’t be right for you to ride off without one. You know I’m not good enough.”

  Sean’s romantic mood was plunged into cold water so far and so fast that he didn’t even take the time to shiver. He turned to Mattie with a hard look. She ducked her head, which reminded everyone that she had been very quiet since coming here. “Would you like to explain why they’re not here?” asked Sean, the chill dripping from his voice brought everyone’s eyes back to him.

  Mattie looked up at him; her eyes were wide and brimming with tears. “But…” she said, then closed her mouth again.

  “I warned you, Mattie,” said Sean. “However, you present me with a problem. You see; I value you highly. I need you far more than you can understand, so I can’t punish you like I want to. Because of that, and because of Cordan, not to mention the fact that you’re pregnant, I elected to take myself away from the others. So, what can I do to you to convince you not to step on my toes anymore?”

  Tears were streaming down her face now. She shook her head and opened her mouth, but excuses she could come up with were just that, excuses. “You needed rest. Lyra said you looked horrible, she said that you fainted, I didn’t think…”

  “Of course I was tired. I finally figured out what Sace had been doing with that valley. You remember my concern for you and Jenny? Sace had fooled with the seasons. Somehow, he had managed to make it so that he could get two full harvests off one summer. With double the harvest, he could rake in twice as much in taxes and profits without paying any extra to the crown. What he didn’t realize, or didn’t care about, was that his spell affected the animals and people too. Girls as young as six and seven years old were making babies because their bodies were old enough, but they were dying in droves because, instead of the pregnancy lasting nine months, they only lasted four or four and a half. Their bodies barely had time to adjust for the growth, let alone the delivery. Meat on the table had become almost nonexistent for the same reason. I broke that spell; the backlash killed Sace, but I get ahead of myself. After breaking the spell, I did faint; it’s hard breaking a spell that size, and things changed because of it that pulled at me too, things I didn’t expect. When I woke, the day was shot and I was tired. When have you known me to move camp late in the day? But following your orders, Lyra made a cup of chamma for me, a special cup. I don’t like chamma, but you said I needed it. Laon said I could use the caffeine, and Ferris sat there at the table ready to catch me when I fell. Them, I can punish…and I will, after they stew on it for a while. I had to get away from them. You were already away and I could leave you there, but what do I do about you now that you’re here?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Mattie in a small voice.

  Sean went over and got down on his knees in front of her, bringing them almost eye-to-eye. He gripped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him directly. “I have way too much of my uncle’s blood running in my veins. Please don’t push me anymore,” he begged, but it was quiet enough that she was the only one to hear. She blanched; he’d wanted to put that fear into her, but he hated doing it. “Go to bed. Four o’clock will come early.”

  Sniffing, she pointed mutely to the bed where Clayton, Larry, and Jenny were sitting.

  “Not tonight,” said Sean, as he climbed to his feet. “Bed,” he said to the other occupants in the room, and they all filed out quietly, taking their gear with them. He watched down the hall until they had disappeared into their different rooms, then he moved Mattie’s bed into the hall across from his door. “Bed, Mattie,” he said, pointing. She hung her head and went without a word, clutching her bundle to her chest.

  He closed the door, then stood there hanging his head numbly, wishing fervently that he didn’t have his uncle’s blood running through his veins, wishing he could be someone else for a while, just for a while. His wife was sitting right there, and his mood was so black, he almost didn’t want to touch her.

  Armelle stepped up to him and nestled into his chest with her hands resting gently on his belly, rather than wrapping around him like she wanted to so badly. “You seemed to have a little trouble talking about Soran and ‘the hand’,” she commented.

  Her scent, her voice, her touch, was pulling him out of his mire as nothing else could, and his dark mood was beginning to melt away. “There are a lot of powerful memories connected to this place, and I have to fight to remember that I’m Sean, and not Soran. I have to remember that nearly a thousand years are lined out between us, and those years belong to other men, other kings; they are not mine. I should never have known any of that stuff about the pass, about ‘the hand’. I can’t afford to lose myself here.” His hand touched a curl of her golden hair that rested on her bare shoulder.

  Somehow, his sash came away and his shirt was no longer tucked into his pants. Her warm hands traced the contours of his stomach muscles, counting his ribs up, and combing through the hair on his chest until they met his neck and shoulders, then they slid back down just as languidly, finding the tremors left behind by their first passing. She chuckled softly and started to loosen the laces that held his pants.

  Sean groaned. His hands came to rest on her bare shoulders. The pearl buttons were out of reach without putting too much distance between them, and he couldn’t concentrate to remove the dress by magic. Just now, he couldn’t have lit a candle.

  “I hope Mattie isn’t listening,” Armelle
said, softly.

  “I don’t care,” Sean hissed.

  Sean pulled his head up from the perfumed pillow at the sound of a knock on his door. “What?”

  “Clayton says you have my armor in there,” said Elias. “It’s time to get up, anyway.”

  Sean groaned. Already? I could stay like this forever. “Close your eyes and come in, but don’t expect to stay,” he called back. He nuzzled down into the perfume again until he found the warm flesh underneath.

  Armelle giggled and squirmed, coming up for air in time to see Elias leaving with his armor. “Get up, my king. You must meet your troops,” she said, then squawked as his fingers found a delightful expanse of smooth skin over sensitive ribs.

  Sean was grinning; he couldn’t seem to stop grinning. Armelle squeaked and squirmed so well when he touched her just right.

  She squeaked again. “You have to get dressed. You really shouldn’t miss this,” she said. He had places that made him jump, too. The bed was too narrow; he was on the cold floor with a thump anyone downstairs would have heard.

  “Oh…” He complained from where he sprawled. “That was cold.” She threw the pillow at him.

  It was cold in the room, so Sean sat up and lit a woodless fire in the hearth, then reached for his pants. “Are you coming?” he asked when he saw that Armelle was still cocooned in the warm covers.

  “You still have to get me something to wear. I’m not wearing that red dress to go visit a bunch of female-starved bush crawlers.”

  “Bush crawlers? First they were my troops; now their bush crawlers?”

  “They are still female-starved, what do you want to bet? Besides, it’s cold.”

  Sean made the blankets disappear, and Armelle squeaked again. “What do you want to wear?”

  “I’ll be wearing a dress, thank you very much, but it needs to be far more practical than that ‘hussy’ dress. I am going to be riding a horse, after all.”

  “I like that hussy dress. I hope you don’t lose it. I hope you wear it for me, often.” He watched, grinning, as she stood up and pulled on her slip. “I don’t know anything about dresses,” he said. “Tell me what you want. Describe it and I’ll make it for you.”

  “Well, let’s see; it’s cold, but the sun might be bright and I don’t want to get sunburned; I don’t like red very much.” She jumped and squeaked again. Royal blue velvet crept across her shoulders and caressed her neck under his hands. Soft, white satin reached up and brushed her cheeks. More blue velvet crept down her arms with a wide, white streak of white satin down the outside. The blue velvet touched and held together at a point midway between her shoulder and elbow, then again midway between her elbow and her wrist, then the white satin flowed out over the back of her hand, stopping before it could get in the way of her fingers. The bodice flowed down, leaving the neckline dangerously low, like the red dress, but the delicate skin there was protected by more soft, white satin. The skirt flowed down in soft folds that weren’t nearly as full as the red dress; instead, they were divided for riding. Underneath, unseen by any eye, white satin touched every inch of her legs, and soft leather boots grew up to her knees. He completed her look with a silver necklace that held a gem identical to the one she had made for him to put on his armor, except that it was the size of his thumb and nestled just under the hollow of her throat, only just visible amongst the satin.

  Sean pulled his hands away reluctantly. Every inch of satin rested against skin he longed to touch. “What do you think?” he asked huskily. “I’ll take it all off again if you don’t like it.” If I take it off, I’ll take her right back to bed in a heartbeat and to hell with riding the patrol.

  “You said you didn’t know anything about dresses,” she said, grinning. “This is wonderful. What kind of cloth is it? I’ve never seen anything like it before. I love it.” She did a graceful turn to show it off for him. “It’s beautiful.” She swept up to him and pulled him down to kiss him. “Thank you,” she said. “Now you.”

  With a sigh, Sean collected his things from where Ferris had them packed. He would miss them when he woke up, and he would probably call then, too. Armelle helped him buckle buckles and lace laces, leaving his skin tingling wherever she touched. Regardless, a few minutes later his grandfather’s swords were buckled around his waist, and Soran’s sword was slung on his back. Armelle handed him his gloves and his crown as he scooped up his helmet, and as he followed her from the room, the fire vanished from the hearth as he closed the door behind them.

  Downstairs, Jenny made a fuss over Armelle’s dress, calling it ‘velvet’, while Elias passed around plates of ham and eggs. “I was beginning to wonder if you would get down here in time to eat,” he said with a grin.

  Just as they were finishing, a man entered the inn. “Your horses are here, my lord,” he announced.

  They were fine horses, but they weren’t the long-legged, heavily muscled creatures of Seth’s herd. After months of riding the big warhorses, they seemed even smaller to Sean, but he didn’t care. He felt like a kid as he shed the cares of the world, if only for a few days.

  Riding with General Frei and his officers, Elias didn’t even try to contain Sean as he laughed, raced, and joshed with the men who rode with him. He showed off for his pretty wife, and yet he was always between her and the soldiers who rode with them, making it obvious that, despite his light humor, he would tolerate nothing but the very best behavior toward her.

  When they stopped to make camp, Armelle came up to him, flush faced and grinning. “I have to go pee,” she whispered. “You didn’t make any buttons.” It was a very humorous moment enjoyed by Jenny, and now Larry, too. Armelle had gone to Jenny first, thinking the buttons were up the back. In truth, there weren’t even any seams, let alone buttons or even zippers. Sean, giggling the entire time, was forced to alter the dress for her need.

  Once camp was set up, Sean offered to spar with anyone who wanted, taking any handicap his opponent chose, laughing all the while as he showed off for Armelle, who cheered him on with glee.

  At the stockade, he met hardened soldiers with a warm handshake and an open smile. He had comments for each of them that warmed them to his banner, and left behind confidence in his ability to lead them without them really noticing it.

  Frei watched him as he met with the five young commanders and their units. Each unit had what they called a ‘sparker’ and a ‘wing’, meaning at least one man could light the beacon from anywhere within their range, and at least one man could send and receive orders from the stockade, or from the commanding general, General Frei himself, as the case might be. He could also send wounded away to be taken care of behind the lines, thereby relieving the unit of a member who would slow and endanger the rest of them. Other magic was also represented, but those two were the most vital to the unit, and certain minimums had to be exceeded in order to earn the title.

  Busted

  After five nights and six days, Basilia was coming into view, and Sean immediately spotted the new encampment. The weight of the world slid back over his shoulders like a heavy cloak, but he only sighed as he accepted it. It had been good being a kid again; he had needed the break. Now it was time to be a king.

  Others had watched for Sean’s party too, and as their horses were led away, two men came striding toward them. Ferris was bursting with fury, and very well might have led with a fist if he had gotten that far. Laon was only a step behind him, but he was far more restrained. Even he was unprepared for the fury that Ferris radiated, and he increased his pace to put himself between Sean and Ferris.

  Sean saw them coming, he saw that Ferris, at least, had not learned his lesson yet. He strode toward them, cold fury bristling from the set of his shoulders, visible despite the heavy cloak he wore. He picked the two men up off the ground letting them dangle, clawing at their throats, their fingers finding nothing but air – air that left no room for breath. “I warned you,” he hissed as he stood between them seeing their struggling forms only with his
peripheral vision.

  They struggled and kicked. He let them breathe. Frei watched, horrified. He had seen none of this as they had traveled, not even after Sean’s encampment had been spotted. He had not been prepared for the sudden flare of temper from the amiable young man he had just spent the past six days with.

  “I told you not to mess with me,” Sean continued in the same quiet hiss. “I warned you that I could kill you if you did. Did you think I was joking?”

  Laon closed his eyes and dropped his hands to hang limply, certain that his death was only moments away. Ferris growled. “Put me down,” and felt the invisible hold around his neck tighten again.

  “Ludwyn is very much a part of me, Ferris. Can you feel it? I fight it every day, and every time something like this happens, he wins a little more of me.” Sean heaved a heavy sigh, still not looking at them. “Maybe you should stay here. You might live a little longer.” He dropped them unceremoniously and strode on toward the inn. I need a drink. Within a half dozen steps, he spoke in Clayton’s ear. “Take Armelle and Elias back to the palace. Take them now, please. I’ll…apologize later.”

  Clayton caught Armelle’s arm as she tried to follow Sean, and guided her over to Elias. As soon as he reached him, the three of them were gone without explanation and without warning.

  Laon’s limpness had allowed him to land hard on his hands and knees before he caught himself, and he was slow to straighten, but Ferris was still ridged with fury and had landed on his feet with only a slight stagger. Fear was beginning to creep in around the edges though, especially as he watched the young man stalk away, but not enough fear, not yet anyway. With another growl, he started after Sean, but Laon caught his arm in an iron-hard grip. “Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

  Ferris tried to pull free and for the first time, he realized why the young man had made such a good bodyguard: he was as immovable as a rock.