Chapter 9
Nine
James
Three days later, we finally arrived in Berengar. I didn’t even greet the mayor of the town, just beelined straight for the portal. I needed to see it shut and properly warded just so I could sleep at night.
Oh thank Vuheia, the portal was still sealed shut.
I didn’t have authorization to actually cross the ward already up around the portal, but I did walk around the perimeter, getting a good look.
The portal formed a rough circle in the ground, covered by a large metal door with engravings from an earlier time, unreadable in this modern age.
It had a roof of sorts off to the side for those standing guard or visiting, but the portal itself was in a slight depression, so I could easily peer down into it.
I tried to remember how the original one-hundred-year-old seal had operated and failed.
Well, I at least remembered the fix. They’d incorporated the river nearby and used Orichalcum spikes to anchor the ward.
Apparently running water, when used with the right sigils, created a strong magical power.
It had boosted the seal wonderfully and, in this timeline, would probably solve all problems. I’d already spoken with the mages I’d brought up with me about the portal and had them “teach” me about wards in general, trying to drop hints without sounding weird.
They’d been quite intrigued and said they’d look more into the spikes.
In fact, they were even now nearby and refining the designs of the sigils, accommodating for the river’s edge—a touch farther away than planned—and so on.
I didn’t like standing here, though. Too many bad memories.
I found myself staring at the portal sideways, distinctly uneasy, some part of me ready to leap to the defense.
I was armed, obviously; being defenseless in this area would make my nerves jump right out of my skin.
I kept gripping the hilt of my sword, perhaps for reassurance, but managed to refrain from unsheathing it.
Edwin came up to stand beside me, almost close enough for our arms to brush, which secretly thrilled me. Backing down had been the right tactic. He wasn’t as wary of me now and had stopped giving me those looks as if he were questioning my sanity.
Granted, my sanity was often in question. Mostly by me.
“Seal seems to be fine, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Fortunately, yes.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye. If he knew what I did, he’d have a much stronger opinion.
“Were you really so worried about the demons breaking free?”
“I’ve had nightmares about the Demon King doing just that.
” Which was absolutely the truth. Hopefully with a guard posted and a brand-new ward, those nightmares would stop.
“I also hate, absolutely loathe, having things hanging over my head. I know we had more years on this ward, but isn’t it better to have a new one up so we don’t have to worry about it again in our lifetimes? ”
“I’m not arguing. Just curious what drove you to do this first thing.”
“Ah.” I couldn’t explain without sounding unhinged. Still, I felt delighted he’d become comfortable enough with me over the past several days of traveling to ask me those slightly “impertinent” questions.
I heard a great deal of movement behind me and realized the court mages were setting up to recast the ward. “We’re in the way, I think.”
“Yes, let’s move.” Edwin promptly turned and took several steps away.
I stepped aside to speak with Mage Wyverstone, who was overseeing the casting. “Will the redesign work as is, then?”
“It will, and splendidly,” he answered cheerfully.
“To be frank, our records indicate the first casting of the seal was done in a rush. The state of the seal now is a testament to that. By incorporating the collected sunlight overhead and the power of the river nearby, we can directly fuel the seal with a passive power source, which is always for the better. As long as the sun shines and the river flows, we will not have to worry about this portal to hell. The Orichalcum spikes will cement the design, keep the power flow steady and anchored to the ward.”
“Splendid. I’ll leave you to it, then.”
While the court mages worked, I had to as well. Edwin went about organizing our accommodations here, which left me on my own for a while, with only Sir Alloways following after me.
I first talked with the mayor of the town, explaining my plan to post knights here and make it an official imperial order.
He had no problem with that—I didn’t expect he would—and it didn’t take much at all to select a house for the knights to live in while they were stationed here.
I allocated a budget to have the place furnished and stocked with supplies.
All this planning took up most of the day. I decided I might as well stop working and have an early dinner at the inn.
I felt a tug on my sleeve and turned, saw no one, then realized I had to look farther down. A child of perhaps seven or so stood there looking up at me. She wore a simple blue dress, red hair in pigtails on either side of her head, and looked on the verge of tears. What was this?
Sir Alloways belatedly tried to intercept her, but I waved him off. I was in no danger and was quite curious why she’d approached me.
“Young miss, may I help you?”
“Are you a knight?” she asked, a catch in her high voice.
“I am not, but I’ll gladly assist you. I’m James.”
“I’m Maggie. Um, Toby threw my Bear Bear into the river, and I can’t get it back.”
I deduced that the child was being bullied and a beloved toy was in danger. “That sounds terrible. Can you lead me to it?”
She nodded, seeming relieved, and seized my hand to tow me along.
I was curious about what kind of situation I was being drawn into.
Also amused on some level. I wasn’t quite sure why she’d approached me.
I wasn’t wearing armor, unlike the knight following me, so really, I didn’t look like a knight at all.
Perhaps I was less intimidating without the armor?
She seemed quite sure of herself, so who was I to argue?
I’d clearly been handpicked for this very serious job.
Because the river ran through town, some businesses used the water for powering water wheels, while others used it as a prime spot for laundry, fishing, and what have you. A stout fence on the banks kept the children out, hence Maggie being unable to fetch the toy herself.
“There.” She pointed ahead, where a stuffed bear with the appearance of a well-loved toy sat precariously upon a rock. Parts of its fur were definitely missing, with mismatched eyes of blue and black buttons and a crudely-sewn red vest.
Slipping free of Maggie’s hold, I vaulted with one hand over the fence and carefully picked my way down over the rocks before scooping up the bear. Maggie clapped, excited, as I made my way back up to her. I handed the bear over with a flourish before climbing back over the fence.
She squeezed the bear to her chest. “Thank you, James.”
“You are very welcome. Tell me, the boy who threw your toy—is he your brother?”
“Yeah,” she said with an aggravated sigh.
Seemed my next step was clear, then. “Let me escort you home. I want a word with him.”
Maggie blinked up at me with her ingenuous blue eyes. “You’ll take me home?”
“I will. Where do you live?”
She turned and pointed again. “The white house.”
Rather hard to mistake it for any other house, as it was indeed completely white, even the front door. I scooped Maggie up in one arm, situating her, and she relaxed into my hold as if used to being carted around. She likely was at this age.
“James, are you really not a knight?”
“I really am not,” I assured her, most of my attention on where I walked. There were quite a few pedestrians out and about at this afternoon hour. “I am a prince.”
“You are?”
“Newly made one, I should say. Isn’t that right, Sir Alloways?”
“He skipped knighthood,” Sir Alloways deadpanned. “Went straight for prince.”
The man had a droll sense of humor, which I’d always appreciated. I chuckled.
Maggie looked at me like she was trying to make the information form into something sensible. “Princes help people like me?”
It was a sad state of affairs when even children understood that the royal family didn’t give a rat’s ass about the commoners. I’d do my best to change that, though. I’d been mostly successful in my first life. At least, I liked to think I’d been.
“Princes are guardians of a country,” I explained, trying to put the idea into terms she could understand. “It’s our duty to care for everyone. You asked for my help, didn’t you?”
“I did.” She beamed at me and squeezed Bear Bear harder. “So are you a good prince?”
“I’m certainly trying to be. How am I doing so far?”
Maggie promptly gave me a thumbs-up. “Good job.”
“Excellent. Now, let’s deal with your brother.”
I gave the door a firm rap, not putting Maggie down. It was opened a minute later by a harried-looking matron who was decidedly several months pregnant, wearing an apron and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Yes, who— Oh, Maggie! Where have you been?”
I handed Maggie over to her mother. “Her brother threw Bear Bear over the fence toward the river. She was quite distraught and asked me to rescue it. I’m James, by the way.”
“I, uh, thank you.” She looked at her daughter and the bear, then groaned. “Toby hassling you again?”
“Yeah.” Maggie grunted, looking sour.
“I would like a word with Toby,” I said.
Maggie’s mother might not have known me, but she clearly recognized I was nobility of some sort. She nodded, uncertain, before turning her head and calling, “TOBY!”