Mage King: Book 3 of The Making of a Mage King Series

BOOK THREE

Mage King

Trouble Comes

Evening two days later found them at a small town called Saône on the banks of the same river they had crossed a few days earlier, farther north. Here they were forced to hire barges as the quickest way to reach the district of Chambry and its market center of Lugdum. The alternative was to wind their way through mountainous country along its shores, a journey that would take them upward of ten days, whereas the barge ride would only take three. Without breaking the spell across the entire valley, it was the only choice.

It was fortunate that the season was late, otherwise the necessary barges to transport their numbers would have been gone; busy transporting goods, produce, livestock and people up and down the river. Now that winter was upon them, nearly all the barges had been pulled out of the water for cleaning and repairs, but for a fee, they could be launched again.

Combined with people and baggage, there was room for only ten horses per barge, but the fee was worth it when nearly every able-bodied man in the town turned out to ensure that the barges were ready to load and depart with the dawn.

Sean paced the deck the entire first day of travel. It wasn’t that they were making bad time, but they were already well into winter as testified by the fact that sizable chunks of ice floated along with them. He didn’t know what winter dished out in this country, but he counted himself lucky that they weren’t already mired in snow.

He was still pacing long after everyone else had gone to their rack. His dark thoughts, combined with his own lack of effort toward their progress, conspired to keep his feet in motion at least. No more being seen. As soon as we’re out of this valley, I will go back to hopping from garrison to garrison and laying down the law. I might not even take the time to find and reinstate the nobility. With half the country yet to cover, I may not have time. I wish I could move faster. I wish time would stand still for a while and let me catch up.

Furiously, Sean turned to pace another lap and barged into a deckhand full tilt. The man was knocked backward, but recovered before he actually fell. Sean reached out too late to help steady him. Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.

Passengers should be in their quarters this time of night, growled the sailor.

If I stay here, I only keep myself awake; if I went to my quarters, I’d keep everyone else awake too. Sean was already in a foul mood, but it wasn’t this man’s fault, so he tried to keep his tone even.

Well, you’re driving me batty, grumbled the man as he brushed on past.

Sean would have gone back to his own pacing, but with the man’s words in mind, he tried standing at the rail for a while. Watching the ice float only a fraction slower than they were, however, sent him back to pacing and his thoughts of being late—lat and not moving nearly fast enough. Late for what, he had no idea, but it felt like he was late for an important meeting of some sort.

He had made less than one complete lap when he ran into the sailor again, though this time they managed to not careen into each other; this time neither of them said anything. The sailor brushed on again and Sean stood and watched him go. It’s night. What could there be for the man to do that required him to pace the deck like that? If he was keeping an eye out for ice jams, wouldn’t he be alert enough to avoid running into one passenger on an otherwise deserted deck? The boat wasn’t that narrow.

Sean leaned back against the mast. He rested his head against the cold wood and his eyes found the moons halfway down from their height. They were so still, so quiet. He reached a hand up as if he could touch them, and the sight of his hand reminded him of other things he could do to burn off his restless energy and still his mind.

The boat was too narrow for him to swing his swords unless he could be sure the deck was empty, so he left them in their sheaths. He was just getting into it, just starting to feel the rhythm, when a fierce fire lit up his back, and a moment later he felt ice cold water hit him in the face with stunning force.

Laon had been watching over Sean from the dark shadows of the stairwell leading to the lower deck. Though alert, he could not react before the sailor had launched Sean over the rail, less one money pouch. He snatched the man by the throat before he had the chance to weigh his treasure, and bent him over the rail dangerously far while at the same time looking for some sign of Sean in the dark waters.

Still clutching the man by the throat, Laon sounded the alarm. Alert, alert! he roared. We have to stop! Get up everyone! Get up! He turned his attention to the man in his grip. Stop this thing.

Under Laon’s grip the sailor was unable to speak, he just shook his head, frantically clawing at his grip.

The barge captain was on the deck in seconds. What going on here?

Laon was so furious and anxious that he could scarcely speak. This… As Laon shook him, the man in his grip clawed at Laon’s wrist, bringing the filched purse up to everyone’s notice. He pushed the king over the side. We have to stop. We have to find him.

Even though the sailor had been unable to speak under Laon’s grip, now his eyes bulged. No one had known that Sean was the king and everyone knew what kind of man the king was. No one took the time to consider that Sean and the king they all knew might be two different men.

All the shouting roused the rest of the barges in turn and lights were lit and held over the side in an effort to see something in the water.

The captain cinched the sailor to the mast and Laon promised him that if they couldn’t find Sean, he would send him into the water after him, and the captain promised to help. The purse was given to Laon.

The captain tried to explain to the frantic Laon their handicaps. They couldn’t just stop; if they threw out their anchor, the rest of the barges would run into them and even if they all were able to stop without mishap, any one of those anchors could hit their target, or the rope could catch him and tangle him. They had to look first before they risked trying to stop.

A shout went up from the second barge. Someone had spotted a red stain on a chunk of ice.

Sean woke to find that air was only a desire, and his arms unresponsive. He remembered hitting the water. He remembered feeling a chunk of ice, but his numb hand had been unable to keep a hold of it. He reasoned that if he was in water, air was up, so he tried to lift himself up to it, and to the barges that floated so close with their lights over the side. The effort was one of those impossible tasks—like how you can’t pull up on your own hair and have your feet leave the ground, you can’t simply lift yourself with your own magic. The effort was, however, a flair of magic just the same, and it had an acceptable outcome, just not what was intended.

Caught in his own trap, Sean found himself coughing and gagging on a smooth stone floor. The floor might have been cold, but he was so cold himself, he couldn’t have said.

His noisy arrival caused the night watch to swarm in on him. He was recognized instantly, and the watch commander was quickly summoned. A second runner ran for the healer who brought Elias as well.

Shaking from shock as well as the freezing water, Sean could only sob and scream in agony with every move, but Elias and the healer, among others, had him undressed and in a warm bed in very short order.

Warm and still, Sean came around enough to recognize where he was. With that came the realization of the chain of events that had brought him here. He chuckled and found that doing so was a very bad idea, but it served to bring Elias and another man into view. His beloved Armelle hovered behind them.

Keep still, Seanad, said Elias. The doctor will be removing that knife blade in just a minute. He wanted you to warm up some first.

Just pull the damn thing out. The vibration of his voice was like fire through his chest.

The hilt was broken off, said Elias. He’ll have to lift it out with magic.

Sean closed his eyes and groaned. He remembered the arrows just vanishing. Them being suddenly gone was probably better than pulling them out—this too—but it wasn’t a pleasant thought.

He wondered how a knife had found its way into his back. The thought led his mind back to the barge and his men. Laon…

Mattie has already called. She felt you use magic and hoped that you would be here. They know, said Elias. Be still.

Sean groaned again. Thoughts of Laon led him, in a twisted route, to remember his promise to Seth. Stable Master… Name… He couldn’t think.

What do you want to see Garth for?

Garth…right. Garth, can you hear me? He knew he was mumbling now. He had to hold himself together a little while longer.

"What? Who’s there?"

Ready a stall…a big one…grain…water…straw. Hurry.

The old man was muttering, but he knew of only one man who would speak to him out of the shadows, and it didn’t sound like he had much time or patience for questions. Still dressed in his nightclothes, he went down and readied a box stall as requested. Then he stood there wondering what to do next.

Out…wait there.

Seanad? said Elias, concerned.

Punír’s screams of rage at the unfamiliar treatment caused Garth to step back even farther from the stall, and by his surprise, Sean knew that he had been successful. Promised Seth, he mumbled, and then he allowed himself to fade and melt into the pillow under his cheek.

Not yet, my lord, said an unfamiliar voice. Let me take care of this first, then you can sleep in peace.

Sean gathered himself for one more effort to think. He opened his eyes and found the new face framed with a fall of long gray hair. Who…?

My name is Desolay. When you sent Hélène away, I was sent to take her place.

Didn’t trust her. mumbled Sean.

I know all about it. She admits to making several mistakes with you.

You…and her… Sean closed his eyes. No more.

Rest assured; I have your best interest at heart. He peeled the blankets back and the fire in the hearth flared to compensate for the chill.

Sean felt the bandage lift away too, and then he was left coughing, gagging and sobbing again. He was only kept lying flat by the strong hands of the healer.

Over the next several hours, he was dimly aware that the watch changed several times. Something was odd about it, though—maybe it had something to do with the different perfumes that came and went too. At some point there was a dance involving fire.

He opened his eyes to see a ray of sunlight making a generous fall of red hair glint with a rich metallic copper. Sloan? She had been working on something in her lap, but it vanished onto a small table behind her before he could figure out what it was.

She knelt down beside the bed so her chin rested near his elbow, but though the sun no longer touched her hair, she still glowed a delicate red. He wondered if she was aware of it, or if she just considered herself lucky with fires. Hi, she said simply, as she brushed hair away from his face.

Sean smiled and slowly pushed himself up onto his side. He ached all over, but he didn’t really hurt that much anymore. He reached out and pulled a strand of Sloan’s hair through his fingers feeling the smooth, but determined curls against the calluses of his fingers. Did we dance last night? he asked. He knew better, but it seemed like it, a little.

Her smile glowed. No, we didn’t, but you sure wrestled with the fire night before last. Were you dancing?

He chuckled. I don’t know; maybe I was. Night before last, you say. Well, at least I’m not bugging the crew. He pushed the blankets back and wedged himself upright. He moved with deliberate slowness, but Sloan stood close to make sure he was steady. He reached out and cupped her rounded belly, his calloused hands snagging harshly on the satin material of the dress she wore. He touched the infant with a delicate finger of magic and felt it roll against his touch. He’s going to be strong.

And stubborn, finished Sloan with a smile. Poor thing doesn’t have much choice there.

Sean chuckled and climbed to his feet. With a hand on her shoulder, she saw him to the bathroom then went to tell the others that he was up.

After taking care of the most pressing business first, he then made himself a hot bath. Armelle came in a few minutes later and ran her nails through the rank growth on his cheeks, then she proceeded to give him a shave. If he had more energy, if her touch was one whit less soothing, she would have been in the tub with him clothes and all. Instead, he had to be satisfied with threatening her and basking in her giggles as she tried to scrape his stubble away without cutting him. After the bath, he dressed in new leather pants and a silk shirt made by Cézanne.

He allowed himself be talked out of returning to his men until morning. He struggled a little for the sake of the persuasion, but they were right. I would be useless there if I went back tonight. No one would let me help with anything, and after that, there was nothing to be done except find somewhere to camp for the night.

He was enjoying the undivided attention of five very lovely women—Armelle was in his lap and squirming just right—and getting to know his unborn children, when his ears perked up at Elias’s voice sounding not at all light.

What do you mean? What’s going on? said Elias.

There was a long pause where Sean could surmise that he was hearing a report of some sort. From the look on his face, whatever it was, it wasn’t good news.

With Sean suddenly frozen and attentive, the girls grew quiet. Elias looked up and his face fell. He heard; part of it anyway. Hold what you have for now.

What’s going on? asked Sean.

With a sigh, Elias began. He liked seeing his son laughing and having fun; there hadn’t been much of that lately. He also hated seeing him hurt; bruises were bad enough, but a knife in the back… Refugees from the coast have been flooding Lugdum for the past month. The locals are having some trouble maintaining the peace.

Refugees from the coast; why? Sean pried for details.

From the little Cordan could gather since their arrival, both Pellier and Massalia have come under attack, apparently, from the sea. He hasn’t had much of an opportunity to get details.

What did you mean when you said ‘hold what you have’?

They had to carve a place for themselves in order to disembark. The last thing the local constabulary wanted or needed was an invading army on top of everything else. Not many were seriously hurt. Mattie’s taking care of the few who had to be convinced.

Sean shook his head. Mattie?

"What?" she snapped.

It’s me. Do you need any help?

He could feel her regret for the sharp answer. We’re fine here, Seanad.

He couldn’t remember her ever calling him by his short name. Mattie, do you need any help? he asked again.

"I really hate fighting," she said, and Sean could feel that she was as near tears as she would allow herself to get.

I’ll be there as soon as I’m more suitably dressed and can get Punír saddled up, said Sean.

"If you show up here tonight, Cordan will have my hide. He was mad enough about what happened last time. You stay where you are. You can pick up the pieces in the morning. Really, we’re doing okay, here. Nobody’s going to die tonight."

Sean turned his attention to Cordan.

"I heard Mattie tell you to stay and I agree," said Cordan. We’re fine here. There’s nothing you can do tonight that hasn’t already been done.

Sean disagreed. There are things I can do tonight, but they can be done just as easily from here.

To Mobilize

* * *

He’s right, gentlemen, said Sean, as he appeared in front of the map that dominated the wall behind the officer. I want you to build up your defenses here. My men just arrived by barge and they will be departing in the morning. I want your main forces to take the barges down river to here. He pointed to a location on the river south of the city where the mountains closed in on it. Anchor the barges to block the river then spread your forces out on both sides to contest anyone who would push past. I would recommend that you scrutinize the refugees you let past to make sure they aren’t invading forces. He went on before the men could recover from their shock. Mobilize the city militia here, he pointed at the floor, and have them make these refugees earn their bread by helping with the city’s defense. They won’t be skilled, but anything they can do will help. How many demons do you have stabled here?

Several moments went by before he got an answer. We have ten demons and their horses here. Who are you? asked the captain general sitting at the head of the long table.

My name is Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin and none of us have time to debate it any further than that. I’ll be commandeering your demons and their horses first thing in the morning. Make sure they are well fed before I come for them. He left and returned to the palace.

* * *

Where did you go? asked Elias. You promised to stay here.

"I am staying here, Dad. I just had to issue some orders and I felt a personal appearance would be better."

You’re not going to get much sleep tonight, are you? commented Elias.

We’ll see how things progress. There’s still Armelle to consider.

Elias smiled and shook his head. Come sit at the table then. I’ll have someone from the kitchen bring out some food and wine. You can get that much rest at least.

Sean did as requested, but his mind was already far away. Not in miles, though. Now, for the first time, he searched purposefully through his ancestors’ memories for some remembered landmark he could focus on that would help him find the cities he looked for without a more familiar focus. Unfortunately they were depressingly uncooperative. Apparently the memories were only of use when he least expected it or when it was most inconvenient.

A warm touch on his cheek brought him back to the present. Where do you go when you do that? You seem so far away.

Sean blinked and looked at Armelle then he smiled and pulled her into his lap again. Never so far that you can’t bring me back, he said. I could drown in those green eyes.

Armelle took it upon herself to feed him from the tray of meats on the table; she even held his glass of wine for him to drink from. Of course, this left his hands free to do other things, which had her giggling and squirming in no time. This, of course, led to still other things, but the progression was slow enough that a good deal of wine and the tray’s contents were consumed before they got that far. The golden-haired vixen was assuredly a force to be reckoned with when it came to handling her young king.

Later, Sean kept himself awake. It was hard; Armelle was curled warmly at his side and the bed was softer than he’d had for a long time, even the room was warm; everything conspired to put him to sleep for long hours. He hated fighting it. The actual desire to sleep didn’t come all that often of late. He rolled the blankets back and sat on the edge of the bed.