Wizard's Spawn

The King

King Ardiel turned to his Chief Advisor with a world-weary smile. "How can I convince you people that it's over? Friends though we were, it was never more than that, however much you might have wished otherwise."

He glanced down for an instant and straightened the front of his black, fur-trimmed cloak. Looked up again. "As far as I know, Jez is on her way home." He gave a rueful smile that reached his eyes for the first time. "And with a goodly sum in her pockets, too, which she won from me at cards last night."

"But sire—"

The King held up a hand and frowned. "Let that be an end of it, for heaven's sake."

He strode off toward the Commoners' Hall, where the common people had been queuing for hours to see him with their problems and ask for justice. He had managed to close off that particular conversation but he knew it, or something similar, would be repeated over and over again until he was married. For a while there, he had really thought Jez would be the one. They had got on well enough and he had always had a preference for strong women, but after two weeks of being constantly in each other's company, his feelings were brotherly, not romantic.

Finally the day ended. Alone at last, his manservant dismissed for the night, his thoughts returned to his problem. Surely there must be a woman out there somewhere, with whom he could fancy spending his life? It was getting harder and harder to pretend nothing was wrong. His barriers were as strong as he could make them, but even so, he found it astonishing that none of his advisors had guessed his secret.

He stared blindly into the mirror, not seeing the black hair cropped close to his head, the strong bones of his face, tired blue eyes, thin lips pursed with tension. How much longer could he hang on before everything came crashing down around him?

Not for the first time, he wished futilely that he had not been born into the royal family or that, at the very least, he had a brother or sister who could take over. Occasionally, like right now for instance, he wondered whether he should simply give up completely, let the council choose someone else to be King.

But he honestly didn't know who else they could choose. He supposed the obvious choice would be his cousin Niall, but he had a hard streak that worried him. He was too ready to take the most expedient way out, to not consider more time-consuming, less dramatic options. He knew Niall found the commoners' court a tedious chore.

Ardiel didn't think he was being vain, but he honestly thought he was the most suitable person for the kingship. Not only was the magic strong in him, but he knew he was fair and just—a good administrator. It was only the rest of the job he failed at. The part where he had to father the next heir, preferably two or even three of them, and thereby keep the magic in his country strong and vigorous for another generation.

For magic held society in Aelith together. It wove lightly through every living thing, providing a source of energy for magic technicians and wizards alike to draw from. If you had a message for your cousin on the other side of the country, you could, for a small fee, employ the local communication technician to send it for you. If you needed to be there in person, you could, for a much larger fee, employ a transport technician to send you there.

Wizards, of course, did not undertake such mundane tasks. If you were foolish enough to approach a wizard to do such for you, you were just as likely to be turned into a horse or a donkey.