Magician Prince (4 page)

“You are the greatest of fools if you think I
would ever stay in something so high up off the ground!” declared
Gesela. “One strong wind would knock that skinny tower right out of
place!”

“Nonsense,” Gilkame assured her, “You will
see that it is very sturdy- just like a dwarf, but if you insist I
am sure we could find someplace closer to the ground for you to
stay… like the servant’s quarters.”

Gesela was taken back by the suggestion. Her
mouth opened and closed wordlessly giving the impression that she
was attempting to reject the idea out of hand or perhaps even curse
at her nephew, but could not find the words that would properly
express her indignation. Instead she turned her ire to Baryn. “Take
my bags up to that tower, boy, before I have you skinned!”

“Yes, of course, mistress,” the old man
agreed as he scuttled off across the castle grounds with the
envoy’s bags still wrapped around his flagging limbs and back.

“Sir?” the herald inquired as they watched
the aging human meander towards the castle.

“Yes, show him the way,” Gilkame answered,
“and make sure the rooms are adequately prepared for my family.” To
the rest of the Axebeards, he added, “You must be starving. How
would you like to taste some of the finest cuisines on the
continent?”

“At once, sir,” the herald agreed hurrying
after Baryn. The servant certainly got along quickly despite his
years. He caught up with Baryn as the old man was entering one of
the palace’s many side entrances. This particular one led to a
narrow hallway that connected the barracks on the right with the
mess hall on the left. Baryn was staring down the hall apparently
unsure of which way to turn. “Let me help you with those,” offered
the herald relieving Baryn of several bags and leading the way. “We
have not yet been introduced. I am Gryte Lordscry, Master Gilkame’s
personal servant.”

Baryn rotated his now unencumbered shoulder.
“Thank you. That was an awful load to bear. I am Baryn of the house
Axebeard- no sir name.” Being without a sir name of one’s own was
unusual although not completely unheard of among humans. Nobility
had their family names and commoners tended to take on sir names in
a complicated system based on their profession and skill. Lacking
any skills of note a human would revert to using their hometown as
their sir name, but to have no hometown would mean that the human
was either born outside of common society or…

“Where are you from?” asked the herald
although he thought he might already know the answer.

“Colum,” the old man answered plainly.
“Across the sea, when I heard what happened I had to come and see
it for myself. Is it true?”

“Then it would seem you have knowingly walked
into a hornet’s nest, my friend,” answered Gryte, “Colum was
destroyed last year along with Baj at the start of the Magician
Uprising. Hundreds of magicians were set free during that massacre,
but the most troubling thing is that it is believed that the
slaughter was caused by one magician according to the accounts of
the few survivors.”

Baryn said nothing, but his expression was
dark.

Gryte continued, “Ever since then, we have
been at war with the demons. One of the domains fell as well and it
was only the quick thinking of our king and prince that kept the
magicians from destroying the rest of the domains and freeing their
kin. They relocated all of the magicians to a hidden location and
are blocking their magic with a special collar developed by Master
Gilkame.”

They reached a staircase and began ascending
without a thought. “That is amazing.” Baryn wondered, “How could
such a device work? Is he a… magician?” Baryn’s voice fell to a
whisper on the last word.

“I do not understand it myself, but the
collars work and Gilkame is no magic user. There are two magicians
in the palace that are collared. One is the former court magician,
Sane. Like you he has no sir name, but for him it is because he is
a sorcerer.” Sorcerers were such a rarity even among magicians that
they were commonly only known by one name throughout history. “The
other is a magical aide to Prince Janus. That one came from Baj a
month or so before the prison was destroyed.”

“Bad luck for him,” Baryn noted.

“Good luck for us,” Gryte jested. The herald
opened a door near the top of the tower, but not quite all the way
up. “Your masters will be staying here,” he said as he led the old
servant into the room. “My master’s room is one above this and his
workshop is above that. It goes without saying, but you will not be
permitted to ascend the tower beyond this point without approval
from Sir Gilkame.

“You will be staying in the men’s servant
quarters along with the rest of us common rabble,” Gryte nudged
Baryn comically and the old man forced a laugh.

Once all of the luggage was carefully
unpacked the servants hurried down to the mess hall to get a quick
bite. Being members of the serving class, they were at the beck and
call of their masters and had to find time to eat while their
masters were concerned with other matters. Right now Gilkame would
be showing his aunt and cousins around the castle and undoubtedly
impressing them with his clout and connections to the royal family.
The servants ate a hearty venison stew in bread bowls that was left
over from the previous night’s dining.

“Having magicians in the castle is
dangerous.” Baryn asked, “What if their collars were to fail or get
removed?”

“I don’t like it,” Gryte agreed, “but it is a
decision from the king and I do not take it upon myself to question
his judgment.” Gryte’s voice grew firm in warning. It was unseemly
to question the motives of a superior. “You have not been a servant
long.”

“Is it that obvious?” Baryn asked breaking
off a piece of the broth-soaked bread and chewing on it. “I only
became a servant to the Axebeards when I heard that they were
purchasing passage across the sea so that I could return home.”

“And now that you have made it back to
Aurelia, what are your plans?” Gryte wondered.

Baryn shrugged. “The food is good. I have a
roof over my head in the royal palace of all places and the coin
doesn’t hurt.”

“There are worse ways to live,” agreed
Gryte.

***

“Boy, take this message up to my nephew at
once,” Gesela, ordered with her natural air of superiority. She
placed the message, folded into the shape of an envelope at the
edge of the table where she sat. The dwarf woman was against the
idea of handing anything to the servant directly and risking
skin-to-skin contact.

Baryn took the letter and with a bow excused
himself.

“And don’t read it,” she warned coldly.

“No, mistress, I would never presume to,” he
said begging himself out.

It was a short trip up the flight of stairs
to the next landing and the door to Gilkame’s personal quarters.
Baryn knocked loudly as required by the thick wood in order to be
heard. He was about to slip the note under the door when it
opened.

“Greetings, Baryn.” It was Gryte. He eyed the
note, “Gilkame is in his workshop with the prince. You can leave
that with me and I will see that he gets it straight away.”

“My thanks, Gryte.” Baryn told him before
leaving. Gryte had been a good friend showing the older servant
around the castle and making sure he was well schooled in the
proper etiquette of a servant in the last week.

Baryn stood outside of the dwarf’s door. He
knew he should go back down to his own masters and play the role of
dutiful servant, but curiosity got the better of him and the old
man crept up the stairs. What type of experiments was the dwarf
working on? What new surprises did he have in store for the
magicians? Baryn’s footfalls were intentionally light so that
Gilkame would not hear his approach, but at the top of the stairs
he was surprised to see that he should not have bothered. A spindly
looking man in his mid-thirties guarded the door. He had a curly
blonde head of hair and wore fine servant attire similar to Gryte’s
uniform, but with one glaring difference. This spindly, little man
wore a golden collar that the old man was very familiar with. It
was a magician’s collar. He must be the prince’s pet magician,
Kennath.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to be snooping,”
Baryn stammered, “I was just curious…”

“Curious to see the prince’s prize toy?” the
magician looked angrier than he had a reason to be, but he made no
move to harm the servant. Judging from the look in his eyes it
could only be the collar that kept the man from lashing out at
those around him for the constant indignity he must face on a daily
basis.

“No, I was curious to see the prince,” Baryn
told him apologetically lying. He had not expected to run into the
magician so soon and needed to keep this man on his good side or
all of his plans would be for naught. “I have only been in the
castle for a few days and have not had so much as a glance of a
single member of the royal family.”

“I have had more than my fill,” the pet
magician made no attempt to hide his disgust. He leaned in close to
the old man as if to intimidate him and said, “Let me tell you
something about Prince Janus. He-” Kennath froze, unable to speak.
“If not for this damnable thing around my neck, I would kill him. I
can’t even say anything bad about him as things stand now.” His
eyes locked with Baryn’s, but it was the magician who took a step
back. “Your eyes-“

“Mind your words,” Baryn warned him, “If you
know what I am or even guess, then you must hold your tongue and
give no one any indication that I am anything other than an old
servant.”

“I could help you with whatever you are
planning. Please free me.”

“Perhaps, but not yet,” returned Baryn. “As
long as that choker is around your neck, I can say no more about
what I intend. You cannot be trusted as long as you wear that
collar.”

Kennath only nodded, being fully aware of
that fact. “Good,” Baryn continued, “Now I understand that the
sorcerer is here as well. Where can I find him?”

“Sane is not here. He has been taken
somewhere outside of the city. They are making an army of magic
users to fight against the rebellion. Every magician that was not
rescued by the Collective has been taken there. They make Sane and
I train the domain magicians in how to use magic. We switch back
and forth every few months.”

“When will Sane next be in the palace?” Baryn
asked. Both men were now speaking in whispers in case Prince Janus
or Gilkame was to open the door that they were just on the other
side of.

“I’m unsure, but I think it will be soon.
When he is here, he is held in the dungeons. My imprisonment is
practically idyllic compared to his.”

“Then I don’t have long to plan,” Baryn said
aloud and immediately wished he had not. Anything he revealed to a
collared magician could be revealed to the kingdom’s rulers. All
they had to do was ask the right question and the magician would be
compelled to answer. It was a surprise in and of itself that this
magician was given permission to speak freely, but that was
probably due to the necessity of training the relocated domain
magicians.

“You will take me with you?” the gangly
magician pleaded.

“If you keep quiet about my presence then I
will see to it that you are freed,” Baryn offered, “You will have
to be satisfied with that answer.”

The magician nodded curtly.

Voices came from the other side of the oak
door too faint to hear. Prince Janus was in there with Gilkame
Axebeard. The temptation to eavesdrop was too great to resist.
“Will you warn me if anyone else comes up here?”

“I can do that,” Kennath agreed.

Baryn manipulated his hearing so that he
could clearly understand the voices coming from the other side. It
was the prince’s irate voice that spoke first. “Why can’t you make
any more collars? Soon we will strike against the Collective and
the rats will no doubt flee like the vermin they are. We need to be
able to take some of them prisoner for interrogation so we can
learn their secrets.”

“Your Highness, if there was any way I could
then I would happily make more collars, but my supply of blood has
gone dry since the orcs started patrolling their borders.”

“Then we will empty out the dungeons of the
palace and make some use of the human wastes down there. That
should get us a few more control collars.”

“Understood, my prince,” Baryn could almost
see the dwarf bowing, “your will be done.”

They continued talking, but Baryn had heard
enough. The orc attack at Everec was in retaliation for the orc
lives taken to power the collars. The dwarf figured out how to use
the blood source, as a magician would unconsciously, to bind the
energy into a spell. If Kennath was to be believed there were
hundreds of magicians under Janus’ control. Entire villages of orcs
must have been sacrificed in the creation of those collars.

Baryn crept back down to the Axebeards’
living quarters. He would have to find a way into the dungeons
unnoticed before Sane came back. The sorcerer’s life could not be
put at risk to fuel one of those collars. Baryn did not travel
across the sea just to get this far and fail. For now, surprise was
on his side, but Kennath could change that. He did not expect to be
identified so soon. The eyes were said to be the windows of the
soul and that magician just proved the truth behind that old
saying.

Then there were all of the domain magicians.
Could anything be done for them? It may be too much for one man to
handle. Baryn shook the thought away. He must focus on Sane for now
and worry about the others later.

“It is about time you got back, boy,” Gesela
chastised him upon his return. “Well, where is Gilkame’s response?”
She held out her hand expectantly.