Mage Slave
Page 68

 C.L. Wilson

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The side door opened, and the lovely knight entered and stopped in her tracks.
“Well, well.” She grinned and folded her arms across her chest. “We just cannot seem to quit each other.”
“Knight, you said you were in Estun not a fortnight ago. Will you hold those words as truth, to your oath?” Daes demanded formally.
She turned to him, solemn. “Yes. Of course. On my noble parentage.”
“Can you identify this man?”
She looked hard for a moment at the prince. The young man returned her gaze, a mixture of rage and sadness in his eyes. From just that look, Daes knew they were acquainted. Something had transpired between them, something more than dry diplomatic exchanges.
“I know him to be Aven Lanuken, Crown Prince of Akaria.”
“How can you be sure?” Seulka prodded.
“I had hoped to be his wife.”
“Now that’s—” the prince suddenly started. The creature mage’s head snapped to look at him. Ah, now what was that? An interesting reaction. Could there be something between them? The prince was quite handsome, so it was not hard to imagine.
“On my knight’s oath, I swear to it.” The Devoted cut him off and smirked at him, looking pleased. “I was looking forward to doing my duty and ending you. But if my allies must do it, my goals are also achieved. Such are the mysteries of the Balance.”
The prince glared at her. The creature mage’s jaw tightened. Very interesting. Was he seeing the result of the wiles and seductions she had used to keep her captive so effectively? Perhaps they had backfired on her as well.
“Thank you, that will be—” Daes started.
“I have another piece of information. But it’s not for free. Half a bounty,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be the judge of its worth. But I’m listening.”
“I also ran into these two on the journey here. You should keep your slaves on a shorter leash.”
“I was achieving my purpose,” the creature mage snapped. “Which you would have prevented, I might add.” Daes frowned and looked expectantly at the knight.
“He is a mage,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. The creature mage’s jaw clenched, and she looked as if she might have killed the woman had she been free to. Ah, so she knew? Had she hoped to hide it from them?
“I agreed to no bounty,” the Fat Master interjected, irritated his funds were being spent so speedily, with so little negotiation. Daes had no time for nitpicking, but that was the Fat Master’s job.
“An air mage, to be specific,” she said. “I witnessed him work magic in Estun. I had to leave immediately to get permission for assassination. Knights can’t attack royalty without consulting our order, as per our code. I missed my chance. But brand him, and you’ll see. And then my duty shall be fulfilled as well.”
How interesting. Perhaps there was more to the creature mage’s touchiness than he’d thought. This changed things. Of course, Daes had worried some of them might have gifts or even be practicing the forbidden magic. But Seulka’s pressures and his own doubts had left him feeling those were paranoid fears, long shots.
Apparently, not so paranoid after all. Only air mages could work the forbidden magic. They were much closer to what he feared than he’d dared to believe.
“If he is a mage, you shall have a full bounty,” Daes replied. The Fat Master pursed his lips, but nodded. It was only fair. “This mage can’t earn a bounty, so it goes to you.”
“Thank you, sir. You are indeed fair and just. Farewell, Aven,” the knight said, little emotion in her voice. If the creature mage cared for the prince, this knight had nothing but stone in her heart. She turned and left them, dress trailing gracefully in her wake.
“Well, then,” Seulka said. “That is unexpected. But beside the point to these weary travelers. You have indeed completed your mission, Miara. Go and seek a healer, you are grievously injured. Get whatever you require to recover from your efforts. You may have three days without work as a reward.”
The creature mage nodded, bowing. “Yes, Mistress.”
“You, too, Sorin. Now be gone. Your work is done here. Guards—take this man to the dungeons.”
But even as she said that, the Tall Master stood up. Everyone quieted, waiting. The Tall Master did not speak often.
“Don’t you think… I should have him first?” he said in his soft, gravelly voice.
Seulka let out a bark of laughter. “Aren’t you an eager one? And not even finish your lunch? I clearly need a new menu. Fine, let’s see if this knight’s claim is true. To the smithy with him, then!”
The Tall Master immediately abandoned his food and headed straight for the prince, taking his arm from the creature mage. The guards surrounded them and pushed the mages aside. There was nothing the Tall Master enjoyed as much as making a new slave—food, wine, and women were nothing in comparison. Daes might have been dark, but the Tall Master gave him a run for his money with his very specific sadistic streak. No one relished the pain in their eyes quite like he did. For Daes, it was more a necessary evil to achieve a necessary goal, ensuring their power and preventing mages from destroying everything their nation had ever built.
That said, this was important. Daes stood up. “I’ll join you this time.”
The mages watched from the doorway as the Tall Master strode out the side door with the prince in tow. Daes crossed behind the others to meet him as the guards opened the door.
The pain on the face of the rebellious one was blatant. Indeed, too much emotion. Perhaps he shouldn’t complain. She had achieved his goal and the mission. He could decide if her attachment would prove problematic later. Perhaps it would even prove useful, although not to the part of him that had grown fond of that brutal wildness about her.
Later. For now, it was time to make a new slave.
 
Guards hauled Aven outside again and toward a low, dark building. He carefully studied his jailers. They were lightly armed but did not carry themselves with much of a soldierly air. He doubted they knew much more than how to slash with the pathetic blades they carried.
The two leaders—presumably the ones in charge of this whole place—were not armed at all, although he suspected the one dressed in black probably had something concealed. Overall, it was five average men versus him. Not terrible odds, but not great if even a few of them had any serious combat experience. No, if he was going to make a break for it, this didn’t seem like a very opportune time. But if they hoped to make a slave of him, too, would he really get another chance?