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

by Brock Deskins

  “Someone made her a mind slave up north?” Azerick ask incredulously, just the thought it spiking his anger.

  “Yeah and a lot of other stuff too. You’ll have to come downstairs and see.”

  Azerick followed Rusty while Aggie and Allister checked out the library and made some final arrangements. Colleen was sitting in a chair near the fire knitting near Lord Ebenezer Crowley who was in his usual immobile place just in front of the blazing hearth.

  “Colleen,” Rusty called to his wife as he and Azerick descended the stairs, “have you seen Hati?”

  Colleen looked up from her knitting. “I think she was going out to the stables.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  ***

  Hati stroked the muzzle of one of the horses when it stuck its large head out over the half-door. Eislanders had a few draft breeds, but they were used only as working animals since the environment they lived in simply could not support very many of them, and she used every chance she could to get near them.

  Being near the gentle but powerful animals and being able to touch them calmed her nerves and let her forget about her deformity for a time. The horses did not look at her strangely or judge her. She had not tried to fly yet, partly out of fear and largely out of self-consciousness. She was already so different from everyone else, and she did not want to stand out even more by flying around in the sky like a big mutant bird.

  Those who knew were always so nice to her, especially Colleen, but she was still ashamed and afraid of how she looked. No matter how nice everyone was, she could still see in their eyes that they knew she was different. She knew she was being paranoid, but after a lifetime of being teased and ridiculed for being different, it was hard to feel any other way.

  The horse suddenly grabbed the large cloak she always kept tied around her shoulders and threw its head back, pulling it off her, and exposing her wings. She tried to snatch the cloak back before anyone saw her, but a gasp snapped her head around and she looked at the small boy who tended the stables, his eyes as big around as saucers and his mouth gaping open.

  Peck was enthralled, and she could see the conflict on his face as the rudeness of staring combated his amazement, but he could not take his eyes off her.

  “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Her face burned and her stomach twisted out of fear and humiliation.

  She finally snatched her cloak back from the horse, who probably thought it a grand joke to play on the woman, and quickly tried to wrap it back around her shoulders and cover her wings. Her taloned fingers made it difficult ,and the horse had snapped the cord that tied it in place.

  “Please, don’t be afraid. I’ll go away.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Peck finally said as he overcame his surprise. “Are they real?”

  Hati looked at the stable floor. “Yes, they’re real.”

  “Can I touch them?”

  “You want to touch them?”

  Peck’s face burned bright red. “I’m sorry, that was probably really rude of me to ask.”

  “No, that’s okay, I guess you can touch them if you want.”

  Peck walked over and tentatively stroked the huge feathers on the side of one of her wings. “They’re really pretty. I wish I had wings.”

  “Why would you want that? You would be so different from everyone else. Wouldn’t you be afraid of people hurting you?”

  “I’m already different. I’m small, I’d rather be with the horses than most people, and before I came here I was often picked on. But if had wings, I could just fly away whenever anyone was mean. That’s why I like riding the horses so much. I know it’s the closest I’ll ever get to really flying. Whenever something bothers me, I just jump on and ride real fast, leaving all the bad stuff behind.”

  It was then that Hati truly realized why she had asked the old wizard not to take her wings. He had told her that he could not do it himself, but it could probably be done, and she had not pushed for it. She wanted to fly, to be able to leave any troubles she had on the ground far below her. She would be free, free to do anything, go anywhere, and if someone did not like her or would not accept her she would just fly on and leave them behind.

  “But if you kept flying away you would not have any friends,” Hati said.

  “I have friends here. They wouldn’t care if I flew or not. If other people somewhere else didn’t like me I could always come home, and they would be here for me.”

  Rusty and Azerick strode into the barn. Despite the warning and everything he had seen before, Azerick could not help the look of astonishment that crossed his face.

  “Hati, this is Azerick. He is the one who actually owns this place,” Rusty said.

  Hati tried again to cover herself with her cloak but only managed to drop it on the ground when it slipped from her uncooperative fingers.

  She managed a small curtsey and nearly choked on her words from fright and embarrassment. “Good day, sir, I am sorry for my intrusion into your home.”

  Azerick smiled and picked Hati’s cloak up from the ground. “I’m just the owner, Hati. It is everyone’s home, including yours. It is very nice to meet you, and it is no intrusion. You are quite welcome here.”

  ***

  After stripping Rusty and Allister of every bit of information about what had happened while he had been away, Azerick spent the next several days simply resting, relaxing, and readjusting to the semi-chaotic life of being back at his school.

  Sandy quickly made friends with everyone in the keep. Even the territorial cooks enjoyed it when she popped her head into the kitchen looking for a snack to feed her rapidly growing body.

  It was late in the evening a few days after he had returned when strange sounds coming from the floor above his own caught his attention. Closing the book he was studying, Azerick crept up the stairs to investigate.

  The noises were coming from Ellyssa’s room, followed by the sounds of children’s laughter. Azerick knew that anytime that many kids were laughing there was almost certainly some sort of mischief in the making. He cracked open the door and poked his head into the room.

  “What is going on in here? What were those noises?”

  Ellyssa, Roger, Sandy, and a few other children sat in a large circle on the floor dressed in their nightclothes and gave him guilty stares until Ellyssa finally confessed.

  “We were having a burping contest,” Ellyssa answered with an impish grin.

  “A burping contest,” Azerick repeated flatly.

  “Not me, Azerick,” Sandy interjected. “I’m a lady, and momma says that ladies don’t—oh, hold on.”

  Sandy stretched out her neck and tail until they were parallel with the floor and let out a ten-second belch that rattled the shutters and made the door handle in Azerick’s hand vibrate.

  “Whoa! Did you hear that?” Sandy asked with a look of pride. “What?” she demanded as she glared at Azerick, daring him to reproach her.

  Azerick shook his head and returned to his room, gales of laughter following him all the way back down the stairs. As the evening grew late, Azerick set aside his book and dimmed the luminous glass globe that provided the light for his room. The howling winds of an approaching storm soon lulled him into sleep.

  “Azerick? Psst, Azerick?”

  The sorcerer’s eyelids fluttered open and looked into the large green eyes set in Sandy’s wedge-shaped head.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered.

  “What is it, Sandy?”

  “There is a loud storm outside.”

  Azerick turned his attention to the shuttered window, heard the high-winds and the loud peal of thunder.

  “I thought you might be scared, so I came down here to see if you needed my company.”

  “No, I’m fine, Sandy.”

  “Oh, okay then.”

  Azerick saw the crestfallen look in the dragon’s eyes and understood what she was really asking. Sandy was frightened, but her draconic pride would never allow her to voice it. Another peal of
thunder rattled the shutters.

  “On second thought, this is a bad one. Would you mind staying here with me tonight?”

  Sandy’s head perked up but quickly resumed a nonchalant pose. “I suppose I could. Ellyssa is sound asleep and snoring, so she should be fine on her own.”

  Azerick’s bed groaned in protest as the not so little dragon climbed up and lay at the foot. Fortunately, Azerick’s bed was a large affair, constructed for him by a team of carpenters last year, and sported a huge, over-stuffed mattress. He could tell that Sandy had already grown some since he had first found her. She was at least a foot longer and several inches taller; the size of a very large dog but significantly heavier.

  Sandy curled up at the end of the bed and tucked her snout under her tail. Azerick saw that she was shivering, but whether from cold or fright he did not know, so he took an extra quilt and threw it over the top of her body. Times like these reminded him that she really was just a small child of her species despite her advanced learning and impressive mind. It seemed the world around him was full of orphans, but at least they all had family.

  ***

  Zeb, Toron, and Balor returned from Sumara with more than just young mages. They brought with them numerous soft and warm white furs, one big enough to cover even the largest of beds. Zeb presented Colleen with a long coat made of smaller, suppler white furs that she absolutely loved.

  “I am surprised to see that you brought so many of the furs back for us this time. Not that I am complaining, but I thought they were your big money makers,” Azerick said to Zeb as they all sat around the dining table drinking tea and coffee.

  “I wouldn’a had nearly so many, but Southport had her port closed to all incoming ships, and I wasn’t about to try and make my own overland caravan to get them to Brelland or Brightridge, what with all the stories of bandits prowling the roads.”

  “I saw that Southport had its gates closed to land traffic, but the port as well? That seems odd to me,” Azerick replied.

  “Aye, what’s even stranger was we got close enough to see several large ships at anchor in the port before we were chased off by threat of attack. They were big affairs and heavily armed as if they were expecting an attack.”

  “Or preparing to launch an attack of their own,” Toron put in.

  Rusty asked, “Who would Southport want to attack?”

  The minotaur shook his huge, horned head. “I would not know, but if a nation or group is going to launch an assault, the last thing you want is for anyone to get away and warn the target.”

  “That would explain the restricted gates and closed port,” Azerick replied.

  “I know my dad said that Ulric has had his sights on the crown for a long time,” Rusty said.

  Allister scoffed. “You can’t reach Brelland by ship.”

  Azerick made up his mind. “We can conjecture all day long about Ulric’s intentions, but none of us knows what he is planning. Regardless, my instincts are telling me he is up to something. I want the guard doubled after dark and manned by grown men and older students. You can use no more than two of the younger ones to act as runners only. I know it is cold and miserable, so let us put out plenty of braziers and fuel and erect some overhead covers.”

  “Did you make any connection between Ulric, the assassin, or Dundalor’s armor during your recent escapades?” Allister asked.

  Azerick shook his head. “No, Baneford said that a wizard from the Black Tower had him searching for the armor. The assassin who I believe murdered my father, and tried to kill me as well, was also connected to that same scorpion’s nest, but I could find nothing to indicate Ulric had any dealings with them. Travis’s father was the one who hired the Rook to kill me because of his son’s death and had nothing to do with the armor. It was purely personal.”

  Azerick looked pointedly at Aggie. “Speaking of the Black Tower; how is it that you came to be part of that less than pleasant bunch?”

  Allister’s face darkened at Azerick’s question, and he too looked hard at Aggie. “Indeed, in my excitement of seeing you again, I completely forgot about that bit and how you just up and disappeared from The Academy one day.”

  The old magess let out a long sigh before answering. “It came to the senior council that several wizards were building a new tower and reestablishing their black order. The council decided it would be best if they had someone on the inside to keep an eye on them. We decided that I would be their mole. I reported directly to the headmaster, Arkam back in those days, and then to Dondrian when he ascended the position. For a long time, there was little to report as they seemed to keep mostly to themselves and did not appear to be trying to regain power in the kingdom. That started to change about ten years ago. I told Dondrian that it looked like the tower was giving aid to a usurper but it was seemingly indirect. Then I got wind of them actively aiding in the recovery of Dundalor’s armor. I continued to inform Dondrian of this, but he never acted on it as far as I could tell.”

  “Dondrian was working with the tower and betraying the King,” Azerick informed the senior mage.

  Aggie sighed and her face fell. “I suspected as much, but I had little to go on. I figured the best thing I could do was stay put and act when I thought I could make a difference. I began studying the fate lines and got a hint of your coming, Azerick, though I could not divine what exactly it meant.”

  Azerick looked at the old woman. “What do you mean you saw my coming?”

  Allister interrupted and explained. “You remember what I told you about the few wizards who are foolish or crazy enough to delve into temporal space manipulation? Aggie is one of those, as well as trans-dimensional scrying and traveling. Some wizards can catch a glimpse of the future that way.”

  “You can see the future?” Azerick exclaimed as the possibilities of such an ability raced through his head.

  “Don’t be silly, boy. Not even the gods can see what has not yet happened. What I saw was, for lack of a better term, your fate strand.”

  “Fate strand?”

  Aggie shrugged. “Some people might call it destiny, but that’s a little too strong a word. You see, when certain events of significant importance collide, those people who will play a major part in it are said to get special attention from the fates or the gods. Their thread of life, spirit, or whatever you want to call it is more pronounced—profound even. It allows someone with the right skill and a lot of luck to catch a glimpse of it. During one of my studies, I caught a glimpse of yours.”

  “Hey, Rusty, you hear that? I’m profound,” Azerick said with a grin.

  “I know you’re a profound pain in the arse of most everyone you meet.”

  Azerick smiled and turned back to Aggie. “So you can see what will happen to me and what I will do. So you can tell my future.”

  “No. I was able to glimpse the direction it was going but, like anything with free will, you can turn and change direction at any time, so seeing your fate strand cannot be used to see yours or anyone else’s future.”

  She lies! The demon raged. She came here to kill you. She is a Black Tower wizard, and you killed her friends and destroyed her home and she wants revenge. Strike her down before she does the same to you! She is too powerful to let live.

  You know nothing, demon, so shut up.

  I smell blood in the air, lots of it, and it smells so sweet! You know Ulric is a threat. Let us go end it before it comes to you and yours.

  Azerick ignored the demon while the others talked about preparing for any surprises and the general running of the school. Rusty repeated his misgivings about ignoring magical theory and history in favor of applied magic, and Azerick repeated his earlier arguments and supported them further with the strange goings on in Southport.

  If there was a threat coming, Azerick vowed to be ready for it. No one would threaten his home or his friends again. Deep in the recesses of the sorcerer’s mind, Klaraxis chuckled.

  CHAPTER 18

  Kayne’s infantry marched
steadily north toward Lyonsgate, a moderately-sized city that lay partway between Southport and Argoth. Kayne’s officers had spent the last several months swelling his legion’s numbers until nearly two thousand men marched out of the desert toward Valeria. They moved only during the hours of darkness and in complete secrecy. The few travelers that were unfortunate enough to encounter the army never lived to reveal their presence or movements.

  Two days from Lyonsgate, they left the supply wagons and support personnel encamped in a low-lying area of the rolling plains under a guard of two hundred men. The rest of the main contingent marched northward toward the city to rendezvous with Kayne and his cavalry.

  Under the cover of darkness, the army split its forces in two. Part of the army stayed hidden in a depression a mile south of the city, while a larger portion crossed the primary road and took cover in the wooded hills to the north.

  Kayne’s cavalry waited for the infantry, or legs as the mounted soldiers called them, in the hills northwest of the city and helped get them entrenched and hidden. Jarvin’s forces were only two days away and drawing nearer. Kayne would ensure that they hurried their pace on the morrow.

  The mercenary leader led his cavalry down the wooded slopes just as the rising sun threw a grey pall over the land. Once down onto the road, he directed his men toward Lyonsgate. When the city gates came within view, Kayne ordered his buglers to sound the charge. The mercenaries shouted out a deafening battle cry and spurred their mounts toward the city.

  Warned by the horns and men’s shouting, the guards of Lyonsgate raced to secure the city against invasion and repel any attempt at a siege. Iron portcullises dropped in front of heavy, wooden gates. Guardsmen and archers crowded the high walls while the city’s undersized cavalry saddled their horses and prepared to do battle within the streets if the gates failed or the invaders managed to scale the walls.