Mark of the Banished

by Salandra Wolfe

  The newcomer smiled at Charwin and spread his arms wide. “Fighting to take over a kingdom will be so much fun. How could I not have come so soon? I’m surprised no one else is rushing over here!” Reen gave a mischievous smirk “Crazy, the lot of them.”

  Charwin shook his head and gave Reen a look that said, Are you sure you aren’t the crazy one? But he stayed silent.

  Reen finally seemed to notice Caspian, who was still hunched on the bed, and came to his side, his eyes lit with excitement.

  “Are you the famous Prince of Algar? It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, a pleasure indeed!” The strange man grabbed his hand from where it was pressed against his chest and started pumping it up and down, gripping it so tightly it began to hurt.

  “You too.” Caspian’s voice was strained, and he attempted a smile, but his face rejected that thought, and he felt a spasm on his right cheek before it went limp. He wrested his hand from Reen and brought it up to his cheek over the bandage, concerned. What had just happened?

  “I’m Reen-la, but most everyone calls me Reen.” Reen spoke so fast, and with his strange accent, it took a few moments for Caspian’s brain to work out what he had said. “I’m a wizard, and I’m here to help you. Charwin told us all about how your throne was taken; that’s just a terrible thing for those people to do, isn’t it! He also told us that they branded you on the face, which must be why that bandage is there, though I can see some red creeping outside of it. Do you have an infection? Do you need help? I can do healing magic.” Reen held up his arms and shook them, opening his mouth to start a spell.

  “NO!” Charwin yelled, jumping to Reen’s side and pulling his arms down. “You are not all the way through your training yet, so you will not be healing any humans yet. Do you understand?”

  Reen shrugged. “It’s probably for the best. The last time I tried to heal something, the poor hare ended up with its heart where its stomach should be and vice versa. Luckily one of the more experienced wizards was able to right the poor thing before it died.” Reen paused. “Is he okay? Because he doesn’t seem okay.” He pointed at Caspian, and Charwin turned to look closer at his patient.

  Caspian blinked. His cheek still felt numb, and that was so concerning it was hard to concentrate on anything else.

  Charwin reached out and removed Caspian’s hand from his face, then spoke a soft enchantment, and the bandage peeled off and floated away. Reen squealed and ran after it. Charwin leaned closer and pursed his lips. “It’s totally limp. What happened?”

  Caspian shook his head. “I don’t know. I was in pain, and I tried to smile, but then it went numb.” As he spoke, the feeling slowly returned. “I think it’s coming back.”

  Charwin’s eyebrows drew together tightly, and he managed to look more concerned than Caspian had ever seen him. “Just hold on for a few more days. The other wizards will get here soon, and maybe one of them will have a poultice to help your face. There are a lot of wizards who know more about healing than I do.” He picked up another bandage and carefully put it back onto Caspian’s face, his magic sealing it in place.

  Caspian nodded. “It will give me something to focus on as well. The sooner the plan can begin, the sooner I’ll feel better.”

  Charwin shook his head and smiled, leaning back to peer into the other room, where Reen was chasing the magicked bandage around, keeping it from fulfilling its purpose. “You can start with him.” He thrust his chin toward the kitchen. “I know he doesn’t look like much, and he’s very . . . enthusiastic, but he’s loyal and powerful. You just have to give him a goal or else he’s . . .” Charwin gestured toward the kitchen, “like this all the time.”

  Caspian shot Charwin an amused half-grin, the right side of his face still not fully functional yet. “I’ll give him a chance. We need all the help we can get.”

  Charwin leaned back toward the kitchen and yelled, “Reen, Caspian has a job for you!”

  Instantly, the man stopped chasing the bandage and bounded back into the room, grinning fiercely. Charwin was sure that if the bandage could think and feel, it would be very relieved.

  “Tell me what to do, Mr. Boss Man, and I’ll do it. I’m completely focused!” He stared intently into Caspian’s eyes, and, underneath all the energy and the silliness, Caspian could see a cold hard determination in the man’s eyes. The prince straightened. Charwin was right. This was the kind of man Caspian wanted to have on his team.

  Caspian leaned forward. “What are your skills?” Reen stood there like a temporarily stilled ball of energy, seeming to hum with excitement.

  “I’m very good at sneaking,” Reen supplied, bouncing up and down slightly on his heels. It seemed almost as if he didn’t want to be standing there, and yet he didn’t look away from Caspian.

  The prince’s lips pursed—or at least the left half did. He somehow doubted the man in front of him could stay still and quiet long enough to sneak into someplace, and yet he had seen the fire in the man’s eyes. Caspian glanced toward Charwin, who gave him an encouraging nod. Caspian didn’t like sending the first person who had come to his aide into such a dangerous situation, but why not do it now, since it was going to have to be done anyway? He wanted to know what was happening in the palace now that he had been gone for such a long time.

  “I need you to break into a very dangerous place. Do you think you can do it?” Caspian paused. “And not get caught?” If he got caught, not only would the wizard be dead, but the resistance would probably be over before it even started.

  Reen nodded firmly. “You can count on me, Your Majesty!”

  Caspian felt the left side of his mouth rising slowly. The young man and his barely controlled energy were already starting to warm Caspian up to him. “Then this is what you need to do . . .”

  Chapter Twenty

  Caspian stood unsteadily next to his bed, feeling a bit faint from the newest round of potions the healing wizards had shoved down his throat. It had been three weeks since Reen had arrived, with the other wizards arriving shortly thereafter. A few of them were experienced healers, giving Charwin a much needed breath of fresh air away from Caspian’s wound.

  The wizards told him they had arrived too late to be able to do much for the burn. Most of the scar tissue had already formed, and his skin and nerves were permanently damaged, along with quite a few of the muscles. But they had managed to heal the wound the rest of the way, which meant no more pain and no more bandages. After that, they had treated the existing damage to minimize it and loosen his muscles and skin, and hopefully partially heal some of his nerves.

  Caspian didn’t know which of the many treatments had worked, but he felt stronger than he had in ages. He could walk around without any assistance, and he was able to do so for significant distances. His cheek hardly hurt anymore, and while it didn’t respond nearly as well as his left cheek, it didn’t seize up and refuse to move, though the wizards warned that it could happen again.

  “I’m telling you, it was my mushroom stew that did the trick!” one of the wizards surrounding Caspian yelled, knocking him out of his reverie.

  “Oh, come off it, no one cares about your mushroom stew!” another shouted. “It smells like feet and tastes about as good too!” The rest of the wizards chuckled, and the first flushed a bright red.

  “It was the minced potatoes and tomatoes with a sprinkle of resin-wood that did it,” the second wizard proclaimed. “My remedies are by far the best. Much better than that rubbish you call tonics.”

  That set off a whole new round of yelling and jeering, and finally Caspian couldn’t take it any longer.

  “QUIET!” he bellowed. Instantly, the entire room hushed, and Caspian saw Charwin lean forward from a chair in the corner of the room, an amused grin on his face. “It doesn’t matter whose tonic or poultice worked. It only matters that it did work,” Caspian growled at them, barely able to keep his temper in check. “I am thankful for all of your assistance, but get out before you annoy me further.”

 
With looks of surprise, the wizards murmured to each other as they moved toward the door. The murmurings escalated until they were yelling again, right outside the front door. With a huff of frustration, Caspian slammed the door on them, cutting off the noise.

  “Looks like you’re feeling better,” Charwin remarked, rising from his chair. He went into the kitchen, and Caspian followed him, leaning against the counter.

  “Yes. They did an excellent job, but I’m starting to think you picked the wrong group of wizards.”

  Charwin chuckled as he poured a liquid into a cup and handed it to Caspian. “Wizards are extremely competitive with others in their same field. But they’re good people.”

  Taking a sip of the liquid, which turned out to be hot cider, Caspian swiveled to watch Charwin as the wizard walked around him to the other side of the counter. “What is your field, Charwin?”

  Charwin chuckled, leaning over to grab a bucket of water off the floor. “I am a man of all trades. I have studied a lot of different kinds of magic.” He paused, thinking. “I guess you could say I’m an enchanter.” He placed the bucket on the table and moved to the other side of the table again.

  Watching the older man grab a few dishes and wash them in the water bucket, Caspian tilted his head. “An enchanter?”

  “Yes. An enchanter is a person who spells things.” He laughed and shook his head. “We are the fighters.”

  Caspian nodded, scrunching his brow in thought. “Devin must be an enchanter.”

  Charwin looked at him. “I cannot believe that I have never heard of this Devin. He must keep himself well hidden to be invisible to most of the wizard community. Or maybe he’s not quite a wizard . . .” His voice trailed off and his gaze shifted behind Caspian, his eyes losing focus.

  Caspian opened his mouth to ask him what he meant, but he was interrupted by the sounds of an argument growing louder, then softer again as the front door opened and closed. Turning around, he saw four men making their way into the kitchen. One of them was Reen, who had apparently returned from his mission. The other three were the men Caspian had sent to observe Devin’s dealings with Algar, back from their fourth excursion into the kingdom. Charwin had told the prince they were wizards, but Caspian hadn’t seen them do any magic yet.

  Grinning slightly, Caspian watched the four men file into the room, excited and yet nervous. “Welcome back,” he said.

  “Those wind-snackers sure are going out there!” Reen exclaimed, bouncing up and down with his usual energy. “It’s like I always say, fighting ain’t worth a quini. Better to have friends than a lousy funeral.”

  Caspian blinked, confused not only by Reen’s thick accent, but also by his bizarre sayings. But within moments, Reen’s boundless energy and unique ways had the prince relaxed and feeling confident again.

  “I’m not sure what you said, friend, but it’s a pleasure to have you back.” Caspian held out his hand, and Reen took it with both hands, pumping it up and down vigorously.

  “I’m glad to be back in your presence, Yer Majesty. This is by far the most shnay-looping thing that has ever happened to me!” Reen grinned widely.

  Again, Caspian had no idea what he meant, but Reen said it so cheerfully it seemed like a good thing.

  “Let us move on from the pleasantries and down to business, right, my lord?” Charwin asked, having already put away his bucket and dishes.

  Caspian straightened and extracted his hand from Reen’s grip, dusting off invisible particles from his shirt. “Right. Men, report everything. Even things you may not think important. I want to make sure we are ready.”

  One of the men snapped his heels together and saluted. Caspian was almost certain the man used to be a soldier, but he didn’t know of any other kingdom he might work for, and he wasn’t from Algar, not with his complexion. His name was Arthur, and Caspian had grown to trust him a great deal.

  “Sire, in our continued exploration of the commonwealth of Algar, we have discovered that they are very unhappy with the wizard’s rule. Our spies report . . .” the man swallowed, “terrible atrocities toward the people, making public unrest very high.”

  Caspian clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to hit something. This wasn’t new, but it hurt his heart every single time he heard it. “And Ryland?” he managed to get out.

  “The people have not seen the king since his coronation. Some speculate the wizard got rid of him, and some say he’s still ruling from the background, using the wizard as a face. Most have hope that he will come and save them.”

  Caspian still couldn’t believe it, even though he had been told many times. Would Ryland abandon the kingdom without any thought? If that was his plan, why had he fought so hard to take over? Had Devin gotten rid of the man quietly?

  “And his fiancé?”

  The soldier shook his head. “No word on her either.”

  “And you haven’t been able to find them.” It was more of a statement than a question. If they could find Ryland, this whole thing might be easier, but it seemed the new king had disappeared from the face of the earth.

  The man tilted his head down to look at the ground. “Sorry, my liege; we have not been able to locate the imposter prince.”

  Caspian cringed at the title, then took a deep breath before turning to Reen. “What is the state of the castle?”

  Reen brightened and opened his mouth but closed it after a sharp look from Charwin. “Er—many, if not all, of Your Majesty’s soldiers are alive and well, locked away in the dungeon of the palace.” There was a pause, and then his eyes lit up. “The dungeon is cold and dark, and seems a lot like a place a cat would like to—”

  “Reen!” Caspian interrupted. “The facts, please.”

  Reen nodded and swallowed. “Right, the facts. The important stuff. Well, like Arthur said, no sign of the traitor nor his fiancé, and the wizard is one bad wizard. He doesn’t even seem human half the time. Once I saw him close up and . . . yikes. I swear I’ve even seen the shadows move near him.”

  Caspian blinked and looked over at Charwin, who shrugged. Was Devin not human?

  “The wizard doesn’t bother with the tunnels, which I think is a shame because they’re downright as cozy as a lumbager with a tuneugle.”

  The prince blinked, his mind stumbling over the unfamiliar words. “I—um—” He shook his head to try and clear it. “They’re empty of all guards?”

  Reen nodded repeatedly, his lips turned upward in a pleased smile.

  “Excellent. Now all we need to do is rally the support of the people. Now that I am well, I can go myself,” Caspian said, drawing himself up to his full height. “Hopefully they will follow their rightful prince.”

  The others smiled, but Reen’s eyebrows pinched and his mouth was as close to frowning as Caspian had ever seen. “But they won’t like the . . .” He gestured to Caspian’s face, and the prince’s confidence fell. He reached up to finger the hard crests of the scar, wondering if his people would still accept him like this.

  “I will wear it like a badge of honor,” he decided with difficulty. “It will become my symbol.”

  Reen nodded, and Charwin looked proud. Remembering something, Caspian turned to the older man. “Any success in finding Mepherius?”

  Charwin shook his head sadly. “No, it seems the sword is not going to be involved in this battle.”

  Caspian smiled gently and placed his hand on the man’s arm. “If you stick around in Algar long enough, I’m sure you will see it return.”

  Charwin smiled, and he seemed lost in thought. “To be able to see the legendary sword with my own eyes, to be able to touch it . . . That would be a dream come true.”

  Caspian smiled. “Soon enough, my friend, soon enough.” Unfortunately, he had a feeling he was right, and the sword would eventually need to intervene once again in Algarian affairs. But this battle was one he needed to fight for himself. After all, he was the one who had lost the kingdom in the first place. Righting his mistakes was his responsibilit
y.

  In a town on the outskirts of Algar, Lacy Strongham smiled up at her father, Percy Strongham, noticing how dirty his face was. His white teeth shone at her, reminding her of her mother’s shiny pearls they had been forced to sell in order to survive. The seventeen-year-old girl stood and moved closer to her father, biting her lip.

  “What’s wrong, beautiful girl?” He reached out a calloused hand and placed it on the side of her face.

  She shrugged. “I’m worried, Papa. I’ve heard . . . stories.” His face hardened, and Lacy went on before he could interrupt. “The king’s guards have been taking men to work in the mines. Last week, Jerri’s father came back so injured from the work that he died hours later.” She stopped, taking a deep breath. “I’m scared they’re going to take you too.”

  Percy shook his head and snorted. “Why would they want me?” He motioned to his leg. “I’ve got a stiff leg and would be useless in the mines.”

  Lacy turned away, fighting tears. Her father had been almost lame ever since a horse had thrown him a year earlier. But she was certain the king and his men wouldn’t care about that. They didn’t seem to care about anyone.

  She wiped her dirty face and rose to look out the window. Ever since the dark wizard had taken over, the skies had been constantly covered with ominous thunderclouds. The guards came soon after the sky had gone dark, forcing them all to stay inside and taking those they wanted. The people who had been taken rarely came back, but Lacy heard stories of how they had been forced to do brutal work until they dropped dead. Those that did manage to escape didn’t fare much better once the guards caught them.

  People tried to stand up to the soldiers, but they were instantly cut down, speared through, or sliced in half. Lacy shuddered, remembering one specific man who had been hanged publicly. It was clear that the acting king, Devin the wizard, would take no prisoners. He didn’t care about human life. All he wanted was a kingdom full of slaves.