“I thought you two were not on speaking terms?”
“I’m not speaking to him. It’s not my fault he can’t keep his big yap shut for even a minute,” Wolf said. “If it’s the same kind of business like with the bandits when you rescued the princess, you need to be careful since I won’t be there to save you.”
“Wolf, I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t, much, but you still owe me for those feathers, and if you get yourself killed I’ll never collect.”
Azerick looked pointedly at the magnificent shortsword slung across the boy’s back next to his quiver of arrows. “You know, most people would consider that sword worth more than every feather in the world.”
“Well it’s a good thing I’m not most people. Besides, that was a birthday present.”
“It was your birthday?”
Wolf shrugged his shoulders. “Could’a been. I know I have one, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have another.”
“So when is your birthday?” Azerick asked.
“Should be about the time you get back, so you might want to keep your eyes open for something nice.”
Azerick arched his eyebrows. “How do you know it will be your birthday? You do not know how long I will be gone.”
“And you don’t know when my birthday is, so it works out perfectly,” Wolf countered with his usual incomprehensible logic.
“I think I might actually miss you, Wolf.”
“Of course you will, I’m Wolf. Well, have fun, try not to get killed, and if you find yourself in a real bind just say to yourself, ‘what would Wolf do’ and you should be fine.”
Wolf and Ghost darted back into the woods, leaving Azerick with a smile on his face as Horse continued plodding toward the city.
“Good day to you, Magus,” one of the gate guards shouted to him as he passed through. “I told my boy I might be sending him your way if’n he don’t straighten up!”
“Good, tell him I could really use him since my last apprentice got sucked into a demon-filled abyss. I am pretty sure I got most the kinks worked out of the spell, and I am eager to try it again,” Azerick called back.
Azerick found Zeb waiting for him at the end of the docks with a sleek, three-masted schooner moored at the end. Her nearly brand new white sails shone brightly in the late morning sunshine. Her single row of twenty-four oars were pulled in and secured in their locks.
“Ahoy there, lad!” Zeb welcomed.
Azerick brought Horse to a stop and slid down his left side. “I’m glad you were able to take me on such short notice,” he said and gave Zeb’s back a clap.
“Hey, if I can’t meet the owner’s needs, then I ain’t much of a captain!”
“They are your ships too, Zeb, I am just a silent partner. That is a sleek vessel you have there. She looks fast.”
“That’s Dawn’s Glory, my boy. She cuts the sea like a hot knife through butter, got a shallow draft, and she’s built light and smooth. I reckon she’s the fastest ship you’ll ever find in her class and nearly any other. The boys are raring to go, so let’s get that horse stowed in the hold and get underway while the tide’s with us.”
Azerick led Horse up the gangway and down into the hold where he strapped on a special harness and secured the ropes that kept him from moving about accidentally or with purpose. The last thing a sailor wants is a terrified horse trying to kick his way out through the hull.
Azerick returned the many warm welcomes the sailors gave him. There were several crewmen he did not recognize, but many of them were part of the group he had led to freedom what seemed a lifetime ago. He felt a pang of something like pleasure tinged with concern fill his heart when he thought of all the friends he had now and the people who were almost family. They were a family he had to leave to ensure that no one would hurt them or take them away ever again. A family he may never see again.
CHAPTER 15
Magus Illifan, one of King Jarvin’s two counselors, summoned Maude to speak with him. She did not need to ask what the meeting was about. These types of impromptu meetings always heralded a new mission for her and her marauders. The warrior woman wished to hells that they would recover the king’s precious artifact so they would release them from their forced servitude. She was seriously starting to wonder if the gallows would not have been a better choice. Maude took a deep breath before knocking on the wizard’s door.
“Enter,” Magus Illifan’s voice came through the door.
“You have something for us, I assume,” Maude stated without enthusiasm.
Magus Illifan appeared to be in his mid-sixties with shoulder-length grey hair shot through with traces of brown. He generally garbed himself in nondescript grey robes and, to the untrained eye, looked every bit an old scholar or even a junk peddler. That is until one looked past his hawk-beaked nose and into his keen eyes.
“Yes, Ms. Ballister, I do at that. I have received some information from a colleague of mine concerning the location of a piece of Dundalor’s armor—his boots to be precise.”
“You’ll forgive me for not jumping up and down in my excitement, Magus. Is there any reason for me to believe that this information is any better than the last larks you and the bishop have sent us on?”
The wizard fixed her with a steely gaze. “My colleague has assured me that this information is highly accurate, and I trust his judgment implicitly.”
“Fine, where is it?”
“The nearest town is Sandusk, a small town of miners and herders. It is perhaps three days ride to an ancient temple built into the sandstone cliffs to the southeast of the town.”
“Great, another abandoned temple,” Maude grumbled. “So what can we expect in this one, demons, maybe an ancient dragon?”
“I am told it is completely abandoned, though there may be some local wildlife that has taken refuge within.”
Maude rolled up the map that the magus had used and tucked it under her arm. “I’ll go inform my crew that we will be leaving first thing in the morning.”
Maude stopped outside Malek’s door, but the feminine voices and giggles issuing from within kept her from going inside. Maude rapped loudly on the door with a sigh, wondering if other adventuring groups had similar difficulties. Somehow, she doubted it.
“Who is it?” Malek asked through the door.
“Pack up your stuff, we leave in the morning.”
Maude heard the women’s plaintive protests at the news as she went in search of the other two members of her group. She found Tarth in his room hunched over a small pot suspended above a tiny brazier, breathing in his strange-smelling incense.
“Hello, Maudeline,” Tarth greeted her dreamily.
“We leave in the morning, Tarth.”
“Okay, Maudeline. Can you help me then?”
“What do you need, Tarth?”
“My hand seems to have come off and ran under my bed. Could you help me catch it? It is very fast.” Tarth giggled and waved his hand in front of his face.
“I am sure it will come back on its own.” Maude sighed and went in search of the dwarf.
Visions of various disasters filled her head when she imagined what kind of trouble in which she would find Borik. He was not in his room, which meant he was either at a tavern or in the kitchen. Maude descended the stairs and walked down the vast marble halls and into the dining room where she found Borik eating peacefully and enjoying a mug of beer from the King’s personal larder.
“Hey, Maude, what’s up?” Borik asked after washing down a bite of food with his beer.
Maude took a deep breath. “We have to leave in the morning on another artifact run.”
Borik’s eyes narrowed and he furrowed his brow. “It don’t involve boats does it?”
“Nope, no boats, in fact it is quite far from any large body of water.”
“No undead neither?”
“Not supposed to be. It should be empty except for some lizards or something that decided to take up residence.”
This is where Maude started to get nervous and braced herself for Borik’s tirade. “It’s an abandoned temple built into the side of a cliff, but it’s supposed to be pretty big.”
“Well, I guess two outta three ain’t bad.”
“Well, okay then. Is everything all right, Borik?”
“Yeah, sure. Why, should there be a problem?”
“Um, no I guess not.”
“All right then, I’ll see you in the morning, Maude.”
Maude left in search of her own room to prepare for the journey that was already starting oddly. Borik’s unusual lack of complaining and tantrum throwing put her nerves on end. She was certain this boded ill for them all.
***
Azerick gripped the gunwale at the prow of Dawn’s Glory. Zeb had not exaggerated; the schooner was every bit as fast as she looked. The sorcerer let his thoughts drift away with the wind and sea spray blowing in his face.
Dawn’s Glory docked in Southport after only four days at sea. Zeb’s crew began unloading the small amount of cargo they had brought to trade while Azerick and another crewman got Horse out of the hold. Zeb was waiting for him on the dock at the end of the gangway.
“You got that look in your eye that means trouble. You know the crew and I will back ya in whatever it is ya got planned.”
Azerick shook his head. “Sorry, Zeb, this is one of those things I have to do myself.”
Zeb embraced the sorcerer in a fatherly hug. “You take care of yourself. You have a lot of people who depend on ya now and care about ya.”
“I know, Zeb, which is why I have to resolve this.”
Azerick led Horse through the crowded streets before ducking into an alley to cut through to a wider boulevard that should have less traffic. His mind bent toward the confrontation that lay ahead, he failed to notice the other people also occupying the alley until he was halfway down.
Three men were shaking down a young boy just around the corner where the alley widened midway down. Intent on their young victim and secure in their numbers, they failed to hear Horse’s clopping hooves coming toward them.
“Please, sirs, I ain’t got nothin ta pay no tax with,” the filthy, raggedly dressed boy whimpered. “All I been able ta nick all week has been a bit of food that wouldn’t fill a mouse’s belly.”
The largest of the three men grabbed the ten or eleven year-old boy by the front of his tattered tunic and hoisted him onto his toes with one hand. Azerick could hear the worn fabric tearing as the thug pulled the boy to his face.
“Well, then it looks like we’ll just have to take out the tax on your hide,” the bullyboy informed him with sadistic glee.
“Let him go, Hugo.”
The three thugs and the young boy all turned to look at the sorcerer. Hugo released his grip on the lad’s tunic and grinned.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Hugo asked menacingly. “If it ain’t that little street rat, Azerick. Come ta pay your taxes? You know the interest has gotten real high.”
“I seriously doubt you could calculate any amount of interest much less a large sum. I told you before, I am no longer a street rat or thief and, even if I were, pathetic scum like you would be the last ones I would give a bent copper to. I would not spit on you if you were on fire,” Azerick replied, his voice thick with scorn. “Speaking of which, how is your hair, Carrot? Did it ever grow back in?”
Carrot tugged his knit cap down tighter onto his head. “No it didn’t, and if I ever catch that skinny bugger what done torched me, I’m gonna scalp him and use it as me own!”
Hugo stepped toward Azerick with violent intent clearly written across his face. “You better watch that tongue wagging, street rat. We ain’t boys no more.”
With a quiet call, Azerick’s staff appeared in his left hand. The arcanum ball extended into a sharp spear tip and pricked the soft skin just under Hugo’s chin.
“And I am far more than a mere student. Do you know how many men I have killed, Hugo?”
Hugo twitched his head. “No, no I don’t.”
“Neither do I. There are simply too many to count. Death follows me like a second shadow, Hugo, and right now my shadow is falling right on you.”
“Please,” Hugo pleaded, “I didn’t mean nothin’. You don’t owe no tax. Go on and pass through, Azerick, we’ll give you no trouble.”
“You are telling me things I already know. You have no idea how tempted I am to make sure that you and your two moronic friends do not ever give me, or anyone else, trouble again.”
“Please, mercy please! I don’t wanna die!”
“Then I suggest you all find a new vocation, and never hassle the street rats again,” the sorcerer warned as the expanding puddle of warm liquid darkened the front of Hugo’s trousers.
Hugo took a few cautious steps back before turning around and sprinting away with his two cronies close on his heels.
“I thank ye, sir. They was gonna whomp on me good if’n you ain’t showed up,” the boy said to Azerick.
“It was my pleasure. I have had my own run in with those three more than once when I wasn’t much older than you.”
“They’s called ya Azerick, they did didn’t they?”
“Yes, that is my name.”
The boy looked up at Azerick’s face intently. “Are you the same Azerick that is a wizard what takes in street rats and teaches em magic and sword fightin’ n’ stuff just like at The Academy?”
“I run a school for homeless children in North Haven, yes. And those who are able do learn magic, and those who can’t generally learn weapons and trades as well as reading, writing, and numbers.”
“Could I go to your school, Master Azerick, and my friends?”
“If you can get there we will take you, and so long as you work hard at your studies and follow the rules you can stay.”
The boy closed his mouth and looked thoughtful for several moments. “My friends and me would have to nick enough coin and food to get there. It be a mighty long walk.”
Azerick stopped, reached into his robes, pulled out a small pouch of coins, and handed it over to the boy. “That should buy you and your friends enough food for the journey. If you can find a ship captained by a man named Zeb or one owned by the Tower Trading Company, you can get free passage if you tell them why you are going. I strongly recommend against you boarding any ship owned by anyone else, or you run the real risk of getting snatched up by slavers.”
The boy felt the weight of the coins in his hand and smiled. “Thankee, Master Azerick! I’ll go an tell my friends; they’s gonna flip for sure!”
“You do that. I look forward to seeing you and your friends at the school.” Azerick gave the rapidly retreating figure a small wave as he continued his walk toward The Academy.
Azerick led Horse through the Academy gates and handed him off to one of the grooms with instructions to brush him down but saddle him back up as soon as they were finished. Allister had told him that Devlin had stayed on as an honorary faculty member after Azerick left. Azerick knew why he had stayed on, which is why he was going to confront him now.
It was an eerie feeling to be walking along the vast, quiet halls of his old school. He almost felt like a boy again, remembering how he had looked at the marble walls and floors in awe, intimidated by the powerful wizards who occupied the place.
His feet seemed to weigh ten pounds apiece as he climbed the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. He cast his wards of protection that would deflect some of the attacks from weapons or magic as he neared his old master’s chambers near the top of the tower.
Azerick paused outside the heavy oak door, pondering whether to knock or barge in and take him by surprise. He decided on knocking, not just out of a sense of courtesy, but so he would not appear to be frightened or intimidated by the senior sorcerer.
The door opened a few moments after Azerick knocked. Devlin pulled open the door with a look of irritation on h
is stern face but, it slipped away to register surprise when he recognized the young man.
“Azerick, is that you?”
“Hello, Master Devlin. We need to talk,” Azerick said coolly.
“Of course, come in, take a seat,” Devlin said and stood aside for his former apprentice to enter. “I am amazed to see you here.”
“To see me here or to see me alive?”
“Well, I guess a bit of both. It is a tough world out there, and you left under some…extreme circumstances.”
“Is that the only reason, or is it because of the assassin that was sent to kill me?”
“Assassin? I do not know anything about assassins, Azerick. Why would you think I would?”
“My father was murdered because someone involved him in artifact smuggling. I overheard you making a deal with a man to help him acquire magical artifacts, the same ones I must assume that my father had unwittingly been involved with, and now an assassin tries to kill me in my own keep. It is a rather logical conclusion to come to I think.”
Devlin sat down hard and shook his head. “Oh, Azerick, you were not meant to overhear that discussion. Is that why you did not come to me with that situation involving that spoiled little rat Travis?” The elder sorcerer threw back his head and cursed bitterly. “You were an adept apprentice, Azerick, and I dearly hated to lose you. It came as quite a shock even to me how much your departure affected me. I can tell you have grown significantly in power and maturity, and I want to tell you how proud I am of you.”
Devlin took a deep breath before continuing. “I should order you out of here even knowing that you will fight me. I am still your senior, and your chances of defeating me are slim unless there is far more to you than I can sense, but I will not do that. I am going to let you in on a secret, Azerick, but it must not go beyond this room. I will have your word on that, or I must end this conversation.”
“You have it, but I cannot promise that I will not try to kill you if your words implicate you in my troubles,” Azerick promised.
Devlin shook his head at the young man’s candor. It reminded him so much of the boy he had instructed. “First, let me assure you that I am not working for those who wish to usurp your king. I know what you heard, but what you did not hear was the truth. You probably think I stayed on because I was using the Academy’s resources to locate these artifacts for his foes. The truth is that the Sumaran embassy in Brelland asked me to stay on and observe the situation. I told the man you heard me talking to that I would do as he asked, but it was only so I had an inside view of the situation. I have been foot-dragging and sending erroneous information to them for all these years you have been gone.”
The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4 Page 97
