Magician Prince

by Curtis Cornett

  “How can we trust him?” Queen Wendi warned her husband, “He has already turned his back on us once when we set him up as a vassal to Nightwind. Trust is not so easily earned a second time.”

  “You question my loyalty to you, but did you ever stop to think that you have not been terribly loyal to me either.” A sudden rush of emotion surged through Byrn, but he kept his voice level and in turn controlled the rise of feeling. His adoptive mother, Marian, would have kept a level head and Byrn resolved to do the same. “Most of my life I have spent in hiding with no knowledge of my true lineage. I’ve watched friends die who wanted nothing more than a peaceful life. I knew children that were slaughtered in their beds by kingdom-sanctioned assassins. Being here and asking for your help is not easy for me either, but I am here nonetheless. I am taking a chance on the two of you now, because I fear for the lives of everyone in Aurelia, magician and otherwise, if this war is allowed to run its natural course.”

  The king and queen exchanged a glance that conveyed a secret conversation had just taken place that Byrn was completely unaware of. King Kale gave a short nod and turned his attention back to his estranged son. “A few months ago Sane had a vision of Aurelia being destroyed. I am loath to admit it, but that vision has kept me up some nights with worry for my people. If you truly believe that you can deliver us peace, then I am listening…”

  Byrn breathed a short sigh of relief. “The Collective magicians have two main concerns. One is the criminalization of magic and its users. Most magicians just want to live a life without having to worry about being kidnapped from their homes or murdered in their sleep simply for being born differently.

  “The second thing is the destruction of all magician control collars and the release of everyone being controlled now. I have seen the effects of these collars and wore one very briefly myself. A lasting peace can never be reached as long as there is the threat of these collars hanging over our heads.”

  “You ask much,” King Kale grimaced at the thought of free roaming magicians. “In the past when magicians have been given freedom, they have used that freedom to subjugate others. It will not happen again, not while I am king.”

  “With one concentrated effort Collective magicians could turn this whole palace to rubble. I don’t have to tell you that they can mobilize and strike with a speed that is undreamt of by your armies. Most don’t have my level of skill, but can you imagine what two or three hundred magicians like Sane could do. If that were to happen you wouldn’t be king for very long.”

  King Kale bristled at the thought. “Is that some kind of veiled threat? I thought that we were going to have a civil conversation, not a list of absurd demands.”

  “It is no threat and what I ask is the bare minimum required to achieving peace,” Byrn tried to mollify his king and father, “I am merely trying to get you to see this conflict as I do. I have a greater understanding of what a magician is capable of than you do.”

  Kale shook his head, “It’s impossible. The people are scared. If magicians were suddenly allowed into their midst, then it would cause a panic. We would have another revolution on our hands and I do have my enemies. They would see my capitulation as a sign of weakness and capitalize on that paranoia to seize power.”

  Byrn sat on the windowsill and thought about the king’s words. It would seem that they were at an impasse, but he was thankful that they were not pressing him for a solution. The Collective would never agree to be imprisoned again in domains or otherwise.

  “Then there will be no truce,” Queen Wendi concluded and neither man uttered a word of disagreement. “Instead, there must be an alliance.”

  Kale grinned wolfishly. “The wheels are turning. Watch closely, Byrn, this is something that most men do not get to see. Your mother is content to plot with me behind closed doors, but she possesses a fierce intellect to rival my most accomplished warlords.

  “What do you have in mind, my dear?”

  “Long ago you gave Sane a choice to serve you in exchange for his freedom. What if we extended that offer to the Collective as a whole? No one could question their strength as an army and so taking them under our banner could only be seen as a sign of strengthening the kingdom. As part of the payment for their service, we could extend that freedom to all magicians.”

  The king paced the room as he considered the ramifications of such a course of action. Would setting the magicians free end this war or simply make it easier for the Collective to take over the kingdom? “I am not so sure about this. What assurances do I have that once they have their freedom they will not seek to take over the kingdom either through force or more subtle magics?”

  “If an agreement can be reached with the Collective, then I will be the first to swear my loyalty to you and will serve as your personal magician as Sane once did. I can detect even subtle uses of magic and will not allow you to be manipulated through enchantments,” Byrn suggested.

  The queen chimed in, “Having the ‘infamous magician-prince’ back in the fold and serving faithfully would go a long way toward showing that all is forgiven with this recent rebellion.”

  “And what of the collars?” an intrigued Byrn asked. Janus was behind the collars and few knew of the cost of life to make them. He really wanted to ask how much they knew about the magician collars, but feared knowing the answer.

  “They will be destroyed and the policing of magicians will fall to the Collective in accordance with the Kenzai Order. Will the Collective agree to this?”

  Byrn did not take long to think on it. “I believe that most will agree to that.” His only question was would Xander agree? Besides being supremely powerful, he was also well regarded among the Collective unless things had drastically changed. Convincing him would be key to this negotiation’s success.

  “So you do not have the authority to speak on their behalf?” King Kale’s mood sunk. His brows furrowed in aggravation. “How long will it take for you to speak with the Collective and return with those required to make this covenant a reality?”

  “I have not been in contact with them for some time, having only recently returned to Aurelia. Two months should be enough for me to reach them and return with an envoy to discuss an alliance in more detail.”

  “Two months,” mused Kale, “Are they in Wolfsbane as some believe?”

  Byrn hesitated. His gut told him not to answer that question, but there had to be mutual trust between them if there was to be any hope of success. “They are.”

  Stroking his chin, King Kale murmured with a wry grin, “Janus was right, but I doubted… or perhaps I did not want to believe…” He banished his train of thought with an abrupt shake of his head, “It does not matter now.”

  The night was growing dimmer, reminding Byrn that his time was growing short. He would be missed soon. “Before I go, I’d like to ask for one more boon to make my journey to Wolfsbane a little bit safer,” he lied. The truth was that Byrn had not felt truly threatened by another individual since he left Aurelia and any stray bandits he might come across on his way to Wolfsbane would be little more than an annoyance. Even if he were attacked by other magicians he had grown beyond such concerns, but he had already made up his mind and would not be leaving the capital without him. “I would like to take Sane with me as a representative of the kingdom.”

  “Out of the question,” Kale teemed with anger, barely held at bay, at the idea, “To his credit, Sane cleared your name as a usurper shortly after his capture, but he did plot against my son, your brother, and has been punished accordingly. It pains me, but I cannot overlook that. If you truly wish aid, I could send a Kenzai or two with you. I know you are familiar with Kellen-”

  Byrn cut him off, “I’d rather take my chances. Until next we meet.” He headed for the window and was about to make his exit when he felt the soft hand of the queen on his shoulder. He turned and she leaned in to hug him.

  “It would be unseemly to admit it, but your father loves Sane like a brother. He is schedule
d to return to the palace within the week,” she whispered in his ear, “If he were to somehow escape and join the Collective, then when an alliance is formed your father would be able to pardon his crimes in good conscience as part of the agreement.” Byrn looked on her with new appreciation. She truly held a sharp mind that could rival even the most talented strategist. How much of the king’s notoriously shrewd cunning was the product of conversations held with his wife in private?

  “Thank you,” he told her sincerely and held her tightly for a few moments more before creating a magical staircase to lead him back down.

  “Wait.” This time it was Kale that stopped him. He held something in his hand and taking Byrn’s hand placed a ring in it. The ring was gold with a crow etched on it. “If you are going to do this, then you must do it as a servant of the crown. This signet ring will signify to all that see it that you act at my behest and have my favor.”

  “Thank you, your highness,” Byrn said and stepped out onto his rock staircase.

  So these are my birth parents as they truly are without court politics or posturing for the masses, thought Byrn. They were practically strangers, but he felt connected to them and wondered if he could regain with them what he lost with the deaths of Tannys and Marian Lightfoot. Then he immediately felt guilty for thinking that anyone, even a king and queen, could replace his parents.

  “Good luck, son.” He heard the queen’s parting words on the wind.

  Chapter 6

  Whispers were circulating throughout the palace. King Kale had suddenly fallen severely ill in the last week and spent most of his time in seclusion leaving Prince Janus to rule in his stead. The castle’s residents were tense as speculation ran rampant about the fate of the king and by extension Aurelia. Some attributed the king’s sudden turn to his old age and the stress of dealing with the rebellion. Others believed he was under the effects of a spell orchestrated by the Collective. Whatever the reason, the result was the same. King Kale was slowly dying and no matter how much the healers prayed he was not getting better.

  The king’s rapidly diminishing health was a troubling subject, but there was another rumor going through the servants’ quarters that was of particular interest to one old man. Sane was back and he was being held in the castle’s dungeon, but what made this return something to talk about was that for the first time in months both of the castle’s collared magicians were under the same roof even if said roof was by itself larger than a small village.

  Baryn had achieved an uneasy balance between fulfilling his duties as a humble servant of the Axebeard family during the day, skulking about the palace at night, and checking in on his unexpected charge when he could. This schedule left very little time for sleep, but sacrifices had to be made and in this case the luxury of resting would have to wait.

  A guard passed at the far end of the hall. He would make his way back around in four minutes and another guard would pass by in half that time. Baryn slipped into the shadows and followed the guard down the corridor from a safe distance. He passed a flight of stairs that could be used as a back entrance to the western wing where most of the nobility lived without a second thought.

  There were better people for this kind of work. He could think of two off the top of his head that were more inclined to the arts of moving unseen and hiding in plain sight, but neither of them was here. He missed them terribly, but it would not be long before he would see them again. First, he had a promise to keep.

  Baryn turned a corner into a dark hallway. This was the dangerous part, because there was nowhere to hide if someone was to unexpectedly come down this way and there was no reason to be going down the hall except for one: to enter the dungeon.

  The door was locked at all times and at least one guard was posted in an antechamber on the other side. The old retainer pulled a key from a pocket on his servant-grey vest and inserted it into the lock with great care. Even a sound as small as a tumbler sliding into place would echo in the deathly silent corridor. The key turned effortlessly and the door swung open smoothly indicating that the dungeons were visited often enough to require regular upkeep.

  Baryn followed a flight of stairs down into the antechamber. It was well lit with sconces going down the hall. At the far end the antechamber opened up just before another door. Baryn could make out the edge of a table at the opposite end where the guard would likely be sitting. There were no shadows to hide in here. He would have to take a more direct approach to handling the guard. As he got closer, he could tell there was a pair of dungeon keepers sitting at a table drinking and arguing over whose wife was the bigger nag. Both men believed that their own wife should hold the less than lofty title, allowing Baryn to get far down the hall before he needed to act.

  “Sleep,” Baryn whispered as he felt the magic flow from his lips and pass into the cell guards. Their heads hit the table in unison with a pair of gratifying thuds. A quick search of the men’s uniforms granted Baryn a set of keys to the dungeon.

  The cells were damp and cold and the lighting was poor, but it took little effort to find the sorcerer’s cell. He was held separately from the more common criminals in a cell all his own. He expected this, but Baryn was not prepared for the sight before him. He remembered Sane as being someone who held himself with a self-assured attitude and quiet power, but this creature before him was a disheveled mess. This Sane was covered in dirt and laid on the floor wrapped in his tattered cloak for warmth. His skin hung from his bones from malnutrition and there were bruises on his face and hands… and he wore a patch over one eye.

  “What have they done to you?” Baryn whispered to Sane though he knew the sorcerer was not near enough to hear. He opened the cell door and unchained the sorcerer. Sane’s flesh was cold as death causing Baryn to flinch away in surprise for a moment. His life force was so weak that it was almost a wonder that he still lived. Left to these conditions, the elder magician would probably be dead within a few months or weeks. Certainly, he would not make it through the next winter. “It is time to leave this place, old man.” Baryn told him cradling the sorcerer’s too light body. He placed a hand to Sane’s chest and channeled healing energies into the prisoner causing his complexion to improve from a deathly white to a sickly off-white color over the course of several minutes.

  Sane’s good eye fluttered open to behold the old visage holding him. “Who are you?” he asked the old man.

  Baryn helped Sane to his feet. “Don’t you recognize your old student?”

  Sane looked closely at Baryn as if he was trying to see beyond the wrinkles that adorned his face to find someone that he might know. If Kennath could figure out that Baryn was someone other than who he appeared to be, then surely Sane could do the same. His lone eye grew wide as the answer came to him, “Byrn?”

  Baryn nodded. The old servant’s body shimmered and the glamour faded away revealing the twenty-three year old sorcerer. His wrinkles receded and his grey-white hair darkened to a deep brown. His grey servant’s attire transformed into travelers’ garb and a vibrant dark red cloak once more.

  Sane absently tugged at his control collar. “I cannot leave this cell as long as I wear this collar. Do you have the key?”

  Byrn examined the collar. “This is new. They did not used to have locks. Gilkame Axebeard must have been hard at work on the new and improved version over the last year.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t able to get into the dwarf’s workshop without exposing myself, but I don’t think I’ll need one. To the wearer that collar is an unbreakable cage, but it does have a significant weakness. To anyone on the other side, it is just a hunk of metal. Hold very still.” Byrn placed two fingers on the gold plated collar’s lock and clasp and flash heated the metal in that one spot. The lock fell off and Byrn removed the collar from around the older sorcerer’s neck.

  Sane rubbed at a spot where the collar had worn into his flesh at the point where neck met chest and his haggard face smiled broadly. “Let us get out of here. I don’t want to be a here a
minute more.”

  “We will,” Byrn agreed, “but first we need to rescue the other magician, Kennath Altermas.”

  “Kennath is dangerous without his collar. Are you sure he can be trusted?”

  “Is there something I need to know about Kennath?” asked Byrn.

  “He was in Baj for a reason. The details aren’t important. He is a man only interested in his own welfare, but under the circumstances he may be willing to follow your lead. Just watch him.”

  “Then we will get him and escape before any are the wiser. Whatever he may have done in the past, he deserves a chance to redeem himself.” Byrn admitted with some pride, “I have remained undetected as the servant, Baryn, long enough to learn my way around the palace inside and out.”

  ***

  Byrn’s healing powers had reenergized the aging sorcerer at least for the moment, but he knew that magic was not a true substitute for the sustenance provided by real food. Over the last year he had suffered greatly at the prince’s hands. Sane knew that Janus had resented him. He resented anyone that held his father’s ear especially when that someone was not of noble birth like Sane, but it was the depth and form that hatred manifested itself in that came as a shock. Janus saw to it that Sane was given just enough food to keep him alive and capable of training the conscripted magicians from the domains to form the magic branch of the kingdom’s army who were already under the direct command of the prince.

  It was also Janus who took Sane’s eye. It happened during the first month that Sane was returned to the castle, as a prisoner pressed into the service of the kingdom against his will. He had hoped futilely that his failed plot to kill the prince would be largely ignored since it ended before it even began, but the reality of the situation was worse than Sane could have imagined. Instead of being forced to serve in a similar fashion to the role he played as a free magician, he was treated as the traitor and slave that he truly was. Janus had smacked Sane in the face with a short billy club one day and the wood splintered at the impact causing small splinters to become imbedded in his eye, which became infected and lacking any treatment eventually had to be removed or Sane would have died.