The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4

by Brock Deskins

  Azerick looked at the mayor quizzically. “Why did you not just come out and ask us? Why the charade to try and keep us here?”

  “It was not a charade, although I certainly laid it on a bit thick I suppose. We really are a good town, full of nice people and good intentions. It is just that with your story about escaping your captivity, I thought you would be too eager to return to your homes and would decline my request for help. If I could have convinced you to stay here for another week, snows would likely have closed the pass out of the valley, and you would have had no choice but to stay.” The mayor looked abashed at his own duplicity. “I know it was wrong of me to attempt such a thing, but as the mayor it is my responsibility to ensure the continued success of my town. The harvest is very important to all of us, and it caused me to act with poor judgment. Please forgive me.”

  “Are you saying we are stuck here, that we cannot get through the pass?” Azerick asked a bit more calmly.

  “I give you better than an even chance if you left within the next day or two. Another week at most and the upper pass will be blocked by snow. Even if it was not, the threat of avalanche is too great to risk. If it is not too presumptuous of me, I still have to ask if you would consider staying on and helping us.”

  Azerick allowed himself to relax and sat down at the table. “That’s it? That is what you were hiding from us? All you wanted was some manual labor in exchange for providing for us through the winter?”

  Mayor Remkin lifted his hands, palms up. “That is all. Would you do it, or at least talk it over with your men?”

  Azerick felt all his anger and suspicion drain from him. “Mayor Remkin, please forgive me. Any duplicity on your part pales in comparison to my rudeness and suspicion. I think an extended stay in your town is exactly what we may need. I also have no desire to walk home in the dead of winter.”

  Zeb concurred and promised to talk it over with his people today. Mayor Remkin returned to his usual jolly self with Azerick and Zeb’s promise to discuss his proposal with the others. By the time lunch came around, Zeb had spoken to nearly everyone who had fled through the portal with him.

  When the mayor returned to the inn, Zeb was able to give him the answer he wanted. Although several people had families they eagerly wished to return to, they realized the dangerous and harsh journey ahead made waiting after the cold season a wiser decision.

  Everyone supported the plan with varying levels of enthusiasm. That day, most of the men and women left to stay at the homes of outlying farms. A few stayed in town to work at the silos and receive the crops the farmers brought in.

  Azerick elected to stay at the inn and was introduced to the town’s healer, Margaret Thistledown. Margaret was an ancient woman, but she was still fiery and full of life. It appeared even death respected her wishes and left her to decide on her own when her time was up.

  “Anna is out collecting roots and plants with medicinal properties. I know I have waited too long to take on an apprentice to take over for when I’m gone,” she admitted. “Now my eyes are bad and my hands are too stiffened with arthritis. I need someone with a good knowledge of herb lore to show Anna firsthand the kinds of plants and roots she needs to collect.”

  “I suppose I could do that. I doubt I have nearly the experience you have accumulated, but I can take her out and find the plants you need,” Azerick assured the old woman.

  “I would have taken on an apprentice long before, but every girl who came to me was a bubble-headed little twit without the sense of a mentally deficient turkey.”

  The wizened herbalist began quizzing Azerick extensively on his knowledge of plants, herbs, roots, and healing. After more than two hours of interrogation, she concluded the young man was fit to assist her in educating her apprentice.

  Azerick was impressed with the old woman’s knowledge and was certain she contained a great deal more within that wrinkled, thinly grey-haired head of hers. Anna walked in just as Margaret finished grilling the young sorcerer.

  “Anna, this is the young man the mayor sent to assist me in your education.”

  “Yes, we met briefly the other day,” Anna replied formally.

  “Please make us some tea before you hang your plants to dry,” the old healer told Anna and turned back to Azerick when she left the room. “She did not sound pleased to meet you.”

  “I am afraid I was a bit abrupt with her.”

  Margaret let out a rough cackle. “Don’t let it bother you overmuch. The girl’s gotten a thick skin since she came to work for me. She’ll be fine.”

  Azerick noticed several books upon a shelf, pulled one out at random, and began flipping through the pages. It was a handwritten journal detailing the properties and uses of various plants and roots accompanied by detailed color drawings. He replaced it and pulled out another. This one was entirely about mushrooms and fungus. Drawings, the uses or toxicity, along with each variety’s spore count accompanied every entry.

  “Did you write all of these?” Azerick asked as he pulled a third book from the shelf.

  “Oh yes, back before my vision went. I wrote those over the last fifty or sixty years.”

  “They are spectacular. The drawings and descriptions are some of the best I have ever seen. Anna is fortunate to have such material at her disposal.”

  Margaret waved off the compliment with a snort. “There are many things a person must learn that simply cannot be put in books. Healing takes as much intuition as education, and you can’t get intuition from a book. That is why she needs someone to go out with her and give her firsthand knowledge of such things. If healing and herb lore could be done out of a cookbook then everyone could do it.”

  “I had a teacher who told me very much the same thing,” Azerick replied quietly.

  Anna returned with three cups of tea and a small crock of honey to sweeten it. The conversation was light and subdued. When they finished with their tea, Margaret told Anna to go hang her gatherings in the drying room and recommended that Azerick go help her.

  He followed the young woman through a door and was surprised to find the room beyond was even larger than the main room where they sat and drank tea. There was a large fireplace with a warm fire burning. Azerick knew it was more to dry out the air than to provide comfort.

  Plants, roots, herbs, and fungus of all sorts hung from wires strung across the room. Anna went about using clothespins to clip the plants she had gathered this morning to the lines to dry. It did not take long for Azerick to decipher the organization she used. Like plants hung with like and were organized by their uses and properties.

  “Anna, I would like to apologize for my rudeness the other day. I have not been myself for quite some time,” Azerick explained.

  Anna’s face softened at his words. “It’s all right. I imagine you are under quite a lot of stress from your ordeals. Margaret is not one to work for if your feelings are easily hurt.”

  Azerick grinned. “So she told me.”

  The rest of the day went much smoother. Azerick spent time discovering what Anna already knew so he could decide where best to start her training. The old healer had done quite well with her tutelage thus far, but Azerick found a few gaps in her education that he could start working on.

  He returned to the inn that evening, found Zeb and Toron sitting at a table enjoying a meal and ale, and took a seat between the two. Both man and minotaur worked in town, so Azerick was not surprised to see them. Zeb’s experience as a ship captain made him an excellent foreman, and Toron’s incredible strength allowed him to do the work of two men.

  “How is the work going so far, Zeb?” Azerick asked as he took a seat.

  “Well enough I guess. It lacks the excitement of sailing, but it beats the heck out of polishing marble floors and brass all day. There’s not much work to be done just now, but we’ll be pulling some long nights when the crops start coming in.”

  “I for one will be glad to be finished with this farm labor,” Toron rumbled. “I am eager to
swing an axe again, even if it is only at trees.”

  Zeb answered Azerick’s questioning look. “You see, I figure if we’re going to be here for several months, the boys and I could build a ship and take it down the river by midsummer at the latest. It would make for much easier and faster traveling. I’ve asked around, and as far as anyone knows there are no falls or shallows to keep us from reaching the sea. Each man would have a stake in the boat and a share of any profit we might make with it.”

  Zeb got more and more excited as he continued to talk about his plan. “This place is ripe with timber, and not only for building the ship. The river runs right through the Habberback Plains. Great farming land, but not a piece of wood bigger than a broom handle for hundreds of miles or any iron ore to be mined. These folks mine much of their own ore from the nearby mountains. We load up the ship with timber and as much smelted or raw ore as we can, trade it for grain and produce at one of the Habberback towns on the river, then sell that load to one of the large coastal cities for a huge profit!”

  “Sounds like you have it all figured out, Zeb. Do you think you can make a decent ship with what you have to work with here?” Azerick asked.

  “No doubt about it. The boys and me know all there is to ship construction, and the locals have some excellent woodworkers and a waterwheel-driven saw to make the timbers. The hardest part is going to be getting enough tar to seal her up, but the locals told me there’s a supply a few days southeast of here where the river drains into some lowlands making a marsh that has a couple natural tar pits. It’ll be a chore getting it, but we’ll manage.”

  “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help. It sounds like a grand idea, Zeb.”

  “You’ll be going with us won’t you, lad?”

  “I imagine so, but who knows what will happen by then. I may grow to like the peaceful life here and stick around a while.”

  “Well, whatever you decide I wish you luck, but I sure hope you go with us.”

  “Like I said, I haven’t made my mind up one way or the other. We will see what happens when the time comes. I may find the quiet life is not for me.”

  “That’s an understatement!” Zeb laughed.

  Within days, wagonloads of crops began coming in to be stored in the silos and grain bins. Most of the women in the town were busy boiling water for canning fruits and vegetables into sealed glass jars to preserve them through the winter.

  Azerick and Anna got the opportunity to treat the inevitable injuries that sprang up during such times of intense labor. One man broke his arm and injured his back when he fell from a grain elevator, and another got a nasty gash in his leg when he slipped from a piece of farm equipment and got it hung up on a sharp piece of metal. Two women had to be treated for burns they received from the boiling water used to seal the jars during the canning process.

  Azerick and Anna continued to get along well. He even began to enjoy their walks in search of poultice and medicinal ingredients. The crops were harvested with no more than three days to spare when the first heavy frost coated the ground and froze the earth solid. Within days of the frost, the first light snows carpeted the lower hills, and soon after the valley itself. Zeb, Toron, and his men along with a few local woodsmen worked through the snows, chopping down trees and pulling heavy logs on sledges with a team of mules to the saw house next to the river.

  Azerick walked into the inn one cold night after leaving Margaret’s home and found Zeb sitting with Mayor Remkin. From the look on Zeb’s face, he must have been talking about his ship. The mayor’s face did not show Zeb’s enthusiasm. Azerick picked up their conversation as he strode toward the table.

  “How long do you think it will take you to complete this ship of yours, Zeb?” the mayor asked.

  “I reckon we’ll have her finished by the end of spring or early summer. If I just wanted a boat to get us home I could probably have her done before the snows melted, but I figured I’d make a good working ship. One I can use along the coasts as well as the river if I choose to.”

  “I just thought you would want to be gone as soon as the passes cleared and the river was navigable. You know the river is much more navigable early or mid spring, maybe you should think about a smaller ship.” The mayor wiped beads of sweat from his brow.

  “What’s the matter, Remkin, are you trying to get rid us already?” Zeb asked with a laugh.

  “No, no of course not, I just want to be sure your travels go as smoothly as possible is all. You let me know if you need any more assistance. I’m sure the townsfolk will be more than happy to return the favor of help.”

  “Thanks for the offer, Mayor, but we got about as many hands as we can use right now. The logs are coming into the warehouse faster than we can cut them, and my men already have a passable dry-dock built and the keel laid out. Any more hands and they would just get in the way and slow us down.”

  “All right then, let me know if there is anything you need. I will leave you two gentlemen alone.” With a nod of acknowledgement to Azerick, the mayor stood and left the inn.

  “The mayor seemed anxious to see us leave, don’t you think?” Azerick asked Zeb.

  “Naw, I’m sure he’s just trying to be helpful is all. So how are things working out for you?”

  “Well enough I suppose. I have actually learned at least as much as I have taught. Ms. Thistledown is extraordinarily knowledgeable, although she is more thistle than down.”

  Zeb gave Azerick’s attempt at humor a chuckle. “That Anna seems a nice young lady though; attractive too, and smart.”

  “She’s nice enough and capable I suppose,” Azerick admitted.

  “Capable, huh?” Zeb grunted and shook his head.

  Azerick changed the subject, not wanting to be drawn into any kind of personal discussions. They talked about Zeb’s ship and his plans to sail out of here. They ate a good meal and shared a couple mugs of beer before Zeb retired for the night.

  CHAPTER 9

  The weather gradually warmed, the snows retreated to the upper reaches of the mountains, and wildflowers bloomed to announce the coming of spring. It also heralded the coming of planting season. Zeb’s ship should have been near to completion, but the work was going so well that the original plans got more elaborate.

  Once the planting was completed and he and his crew could return to working on it, Zeb figured the ship would be ready to launch within two months. It would then need to float for at least a couple weeks while the wood adjusted and they patched any leaks that might spring up before they could load it with cargo.

  The mayor seemed edgy that they would not complete the ship at the more optimistic estimation of time Zeb had given him. However, the mayor was excited at the prospect of having his own boats, claiming it would be a great symbol of pride for him to have the first cargo ship deliver trade goods this far up the river come from his own town.

  He even thought it might open up another complete industry and business opportunity if his people could build their own barges and create a viable river trade between Riverdale and towns along the river in the Habberback plains.

  Zeb thought it a great idea and drew up plans for a flat-bottomed riverboat that was optimal for river travel. He and his men spent weeks training a few volunteers who were interested in how to care for and handle a ship. There was not enough canvas to equip Zeb’s vessel with the sails it was capable of flying, but they were not necessary along the river, and he could pick them up once they arrived in a larger city.

  The days and weeks continued to roll by. Azerick found he enjoyed the peaceful life in Riverdale and the sense of purpose teaching Anna brought him. It was a summer day, just past the cusp of mid season, and Azerick and Anna were out collecting the plants they needed in order to practice their craft.

  “So your friend’s ship is finished and ready to be loaded I hear. Will you be going with him?” Anna asked warily.

  Azerick let out a sigh and shook his head. “I just don’t know. I don’t think I ha
ve ever been so torn between two decisions in my life.”

  Anna stepped in front of Azerick and placed her hand on his chest to bring him to a stop. “I would like it very much if you would stay. Perhaps I can help sway your decision to remain.”

  Before Azerick could ask what she meant, Anna stretched up onto her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. When Azerick closed his eyes, he saw Delinda and passionately returned her kiss. It took his brain only a moment to remind him he was not kissing Delinda. He opened his eyes, and his face turned red with anger and shame. His heart pounded, his flesh burned, and he pushed Anna sharply away from him.

  “What do you think you are doing?” he shouted.

  “I thought you wanted me to. I thought you liked me!”

  “Well I don’t!”

  “I’m sorry!” she shouted back and ran toward the town, her face buried in her hands and her eyes streaming tears.

  Azerick fought and lost the battle to control his emotions at the renewed memory of his beloved Delinda. In anguished rage, he tore at the Source and demanded that it serve him. He released the arcane energy in the form of a massive lightning bolt into the nearest tree. The air resounded with the peal of thunder and the cracking of wood as the heat of his bolt split the big oak down the middle.

  He launched bolt after bolt into the old tree until nothing remained but a charred stump. His magical outburst did little to release the anguish and rage still in him, so he began pounding the earth with his fists until he bruised and bloodied his knuckles and his hands ached.

  The sorcerer thought he had moved past his grief, but he realized he had only ignored it. He had distracted himself with work and teaching Anna what he knew of herbalism, but he never truly faced and dealt with his grief. Azerick wondered if he ever could. He wondered if he should even bother. The moment he let go of his torment, a new source of heartache would emerge and start the cycle all over again.