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

by Brock Deskins

  Azerick felt sick over the senseless slaughter of the innocent animals, but he could not afford to let his sentiments stop him from using whatever force was necessary to protect his home, friends, and family. Arrows whizzed past his head as the remaining riders loosed their arrows as they passed in front of the wall, trying to sweep away the defenders. So wrapped up in his casting, he failed to hear Alex order the archers back down behind the crenellations. Azerick was unconcerned, his wards would protect him from the arrows, just as Rusty’s and Allister’s protected them.

  Azerick saw that his stone spikes had crumbled to dust, obviously another casualty of the enemy wizards’ counter magic. It was unimportant, they had done what they were supposed to do, but he doubted that it would work a second time. Whoever these wizards were, they were very good.

  Azerick cast his eyes along the wall and felt his stomach drop when he spotted two of his students being carried away with arrows sticking out of them. They Brother Thomas and his Chosen would administer to their wounds in the tower. Azerick prayed that their injuries were not too severe for their ministrations.

  “We have a problem, son,” Allister rumbled next to Azerick.

  “The other wizards,” Azerick replied without looking away from the battlefield.

  “Aye, so you figured it out already; good. We need to find a way to take them out, or we cannot hope to defend the school. I have some pretty good tricks up my sleeve, but I will have to gate over there and get close. It is unlikely I will be able to return before those soldiers cut me to ribbons,” the old mage said dourly.

  Azerick racked his mind for a solution. “Gating over there amidst five hundred killers is suicide. We need a better plan.”

  “Aye, you’re right about that. You got one in mind?”

  “I think so.” Azerick called Alex over to them and explained his idea.

  Allister was wary of such a plan. “Why don’t we just seal the gates?”

  “Because even if we were able to keep them from scaling the walls, which we could not, they would just get more men and swarm us. We have to crush them completely before they send for reinforcements,” Azerick explained.

  “Azerick, if you are wrong, if your plan fails, the keep will be lost and likely everyone in it,” Alex said after hearing what his friend had in mind. “Even if you succeed with your part, there is a great risk of being overrun.”

  “The school is lost if we don’t try. A slim chance is better than none at all. I believe in my people, Alex. They can do it.”

  Allister said, “Best let Aggie know. We’re going to need her help with this one, maybe even some of the younger apprentices.”

  Azerick blanched at the thought of putting his younger students in harm’s way, but Allister was right. The citadel would need to tap every resource it had to make this work.

  “All right, but keep them atop the tower with Aggie. They can defend the inner courtyard from there. Alex, pass our plan on to Rusty.”

  Alex nodded. “Right after their next charge. It looks like they are forming up for another pass. Archers, ready!” Alex shouted as he ran back to his position.

  The endless, rolling thunder resumed when the cavalry charged the walls once more, their bows held ready to rake the defenders with arrows. The school’s volley was much more effective this time. The defenders adjusted their point of aim with far greater accuracy, sending several riders tumbling or hanging loosely from their saddles.

  Azerick raked a line of lightning across the front ranks of the enemy, but much of its energy deflected harmlessly into the ground. He still managed to send three men and two horses tumbling to the earth. Rusty let loose with a series of fiery bolts one after another in a seemingly unending barrage of flaming lances. His merciless assault sent several riders’ scorched remains tumbling to the earth despite the fact that four out of five of his bolts splashed harmlessly against the approaching enemy or flared out before they even reached their targets.

  Allister decided that simplicity may be the best course and sent half a dozen bolts of pure magical energy streaking out across the battlefield. Either the opposing wizards felt that the spell did not deserve their attention or it was simply too quick to counter, but all six missiles struck home, knocking two riders from their saddles and left another slumped over either dead or too injured to carry out the charge.

  Once again, the riders wheeled their mounts parallel to the wall and sent strafing fire over the crenellations where the defenders crouched low to avoid the missiles. The three wizards and the archers launched another attack at the backs of the retreating cavalry, sending a dozen more riders to Sharrellan’s dark embrace.

  Once the riders were out of range, Allister hurried to the tower to inform Aggie and the others of their plan while Azerick and Alex relayed their intent to Rusty and the rest of the defenders.

  ***

  Captain Crayhill looked on as his cavalry made a second futile pass at the walls. “I believe it is time to send in the ram and attack the fortress in force. I am losing men with no gain,” he informed the wizards next to him.

  “Very well, Captain, but be aware that we cannot defeat the other wizards’ magic entirely,” Magus Bauer replied. “More men will mean more casualties, but we can keep those numbers low enough for your men to achieve victory.”

  “Very well, Magus. Prepare to advance, man the ram!”

  The ram consisted of a stout log suspended by ropes like a massive pendulum from a wheeled and covered frame. The roof was made of heavy timbers covered in animal hides soaked with water to prevent the defenders from setting it aflame. Dozens of men hid inside the contraption, pushing its bulk forward until they nestled it against the gates. They would then grab a shorn limb or affixed handle like an oarsman on a ship, swinging the massive log back and forth until it battered the gates into submission.

  The ponderous siege engine creaked forward on its eight large, wooden wheels. Archers and footmen marched beside and behind it, firing arrows at any defenders that appeared atop the walls. Lightning and fireballs rained down, but the wards the dark wizards cast upon it shielded it from much of the damage.

  It was slow going, but the ram was finally into position and beat a steady, pounding rhythm against the stout wood and iron gate. Footmen threw grapnels over the wall and attempted to scale them by rope, but quick-acting defenders hacked the ropes off with axes as quickly as they appeared.

  The defenders’ vigilance often put them in danger of the attackers’ arrows, and they began suffering casualties. The noncombatants pulled the wounded from the walls and hurried them to the keep upon litters. The thick wood of the gate cracked like a toppling tree under the ram’s relentless pounding. The horde of mercenaries roared in triumph as they saw the gates giving way.

  ***

  Azerick and Alex saw that the gate would not hold much longer. They had already suffered over a dozen casualties, and Azerick knew that at least a few of them were beyond any help the Chosen could give them even with the healing potions the wizards had crafted, though their quick use upon the wall undoubtedly saved several lives already.

  “Move everyone off the wall, and have them prepare to defend the courtyard. Allister and I will be going to do our part now,” Azerick told Alex.

  Alex nodded. “Fall back to the courtyard, fall back!”

  Azerick met Allister below the northeastern corner of the wall.

  “Are you ready, lad?” Allister asked as he hurried to the wall.

  “Ready.”

  The archmage opened a shimmering portal through which they could see the trees as if they were just ahead of them instead of the several hundred feet they actually were. Azerick stepped through with Allister right on his heels. The gate snapped shut the moment the magus stepped through into the tree line three hundred yards north of the citadel.

  The two spellcasters shook off the disorienting effects of gate travel, though it barely seemed to affect Azerick at all. He was pondering the meaning of this when K
laraxis invaded his thoughts.

  See, there is some benefit to having me around. Maybe now you will appreciate me and not keep me locked up so much.

  Do not count on it, demon. You are foul, vile, and evil. I will never appreciate anything about you though I will use you as a means to an end.

  As long as I get to enjoy the slaughter of these lesser creatures, you may justify all you like.

  Azerick ignored the rest of Klaraxis’s repugnant thoughts as Allister prepared to open another gate that would bring them within striking distance of the opposing wizards.

  This was likely to be the most hazardous part of his plan, at least as far as the two magi were concerned. There were still about fifty soldiers guarding the wizards and what they assumed was the command element.

  Azerick and Allister appeared less than a hundred feet behind the group of enemy that were watching the battle unfold before them. Sensing that the gates were only moments from giving way, they had just begun moving closer to the forward line of battle to better support and command the bulk of the invaders attacking the tower. Magus Bauer and the other two wizards must have sensed the flare of magic behind them and spun about, spells of death already forming on their lips.

  Azerick knew that it was going to take Allister a crucial moment to clear the fogginess from his head, so he sprinted forward in hopes of buying the archmage the time he needed to compose himself. Azerick could afford to take no chances. Each of these three wizards was likely an archmage themself and was far more experienced than he was. The sorcerer’s eyes glowed a fearsome red as he allowed Klaraxis to come to the fore of his psyche.

  Azerick heard the demon’s gleeful laughter echoing through his mind as he reached into the abyss for his infernal power, reveling in the chaos he was about to unleash.

  Klaraxis opened his human mouth wide, and a massive cone of scarabs spewed forth into the ranks of men and wizards, their powerful, needle-like mandibles scouring the soft flesh from the humans’ bodies. Many of those who lacked the magical protection of the wizards were nearly stripped of flesh to their very bones, their agonizing screams cutting the air for far too long in Azerick’s ears. Their armor was useless as the beetles found every opening, scurried inside, and devoured them.

  Magus Bauer managed to shield herself from the horrifying and unexpected attack. The other two wizards were not quite as swift. A large part of a wizard’s ability to counter the spell of another was by either seeing the somatic gestures or hearing the verbal components of a spell being cast or by sensing the way that the Source was being tapped and shaped by the opposing wizard. However, Klaraxis did not use the Source as other spellcasters did. He had some access to it, but his greatest power came from the dark energies of the abyss.

  Several of the plum-sized beetles pierced the wizards’ wards and sunk their mandibles into their pasty flesh, interrupting the lethal spells they were casting. Only their training and concentration saved them from even more grievous damage. The two archmages put the painful bites to the back of their minds long enough to cast another spell. The black scarabs that sought to burrow their way through the wizards’ flesh burst apart with small flashes of flame before the mages bent their minds back toward blasting the upstart sorcerer to bits.

  Magus Bauer completed her spell with a sneer of contempt for the former academy student. A dozen luminous orbs flared into existence around her and streaked out at the sorcerer. Missile after missile slammed into Azerick. He lost count of how many had gotten through his wards, but it felt like the punishing barrage was never going to end as the bolts of energy pounded into his body, driving him to his knees.

  Azerick was barely able to keep himself from falling face first into the cold, sodden ground. His entire body ached as if a herd of horses had trampled him after falling down several flights of stairs. His eyes could not even focus on the ground just an arm’s length from his face. His lungs battled to pull in some air before he lost consciousness, but they seemed determined to disobey his mental commands.

  Klaraxis, if you want to live long enough to kill these people, you had best do something quickly.

  You will have to give me more control, human. Let me off my leash, and I will show these mortals the true meaning of pain!

  Azerick had already given the demon all the freedom he was comfortable with, far more actually, but he was going to die here if he did not let Klaraxis have his way. Azerick knew he was too beaten to defend himself on his own.

  He felt his senses sharpen, and his body gained unimaginable strength as he slipped off the demon’s mental leash. Klaraxis rose to his feet with a laugh so loud, evil, and full of such dark hatred that the soldiers who were beginning to advance balked under his malevolent glare. Death radiated from his body like an icy cold wind.

  The soldiers recovered their courage and charged at him once more, but a dark red pulse of pure hate surrounded him and beat with the rhythm of his own heart. Several of the soldiers that stepped within its pulse dropped dead with a rictus of horror and pain frozen onto their faces. Those of stronger heart and constitution died upon the tip of Azerick’s staff or had their skulls pulped by a powerful blow from his bare hand.

  Allister appeared at his side with a look of concern and fear for his young friend and former pupil, but he could not afford to spare him much thought as the wizards prepared to unleash more powerful and lethal spells.

  The two tower wizards relied upon their Academy associate to deal with the young sorcerer and focused their attention on the old archmage. Twin beams of brilliant death lanced out and struck the wizard’s wards with incredible force. The flash from his own wards almost blinded him as they struggled to stave off the death-dealing arcane power.

  Showing remarkable agility for a man his age, Allister dove and rolled to his left away from the rays. He did not bother to attempt to stand, instead unleashing a powerful blast of lightning that forked to strike both opposing wizards, causing their wards to flare brilliantly under the assault.

  The demon stretched his fist out and pointed it at Captain Crayhill. With a splaying of the demon’s fingers, the enemy commander’s body burst apart. The bone fragments and concussive explosion struck a dozen men and sent them sprawling to the ground all around the floating red mist that was all that was left of the Captain’s body.

  Klaraxis’ glare blazed red behind Azerick’s once hazel eyes, fixing Magus Bauer in place with his malevolent stare; the words of her incantation freezing in her throat that suddenly went dry. The wizard’s chin quivered in terror as she felt the demonic presence destroy her will. In the very last agonizing moments of her life, she realized what she stood against and knew they had never had a chance.

  Klaraxis raked his fingers through the air before him. Though he was still several yards from the magess, her flesh was shredded with every swipe of his hand as if an invisible lion were raking her with its claws. Her throat loosened enough that her piercing shriek of unimaginable pain cut through the din of battle even as far away as the keep itself.

  The demon lord tore strip after strip of flesh from the wizard as if he were pealing an orange, slowly and methodically savoring the pain and terror he could feel deep within his black soul. Soldiers began to turn and flee, but the two dark wizards made one more attempt to destroy the two men against them.

  The tall, black-robed wizard stretched his hand out toward Allister to release arcane destruction upon the archmage, but just as he was about to utter the final word of command, an arrow sprouted from his thin neck. The wizard looked about dumbly, not quite comprehending what had just happened for several seconds before folding to the ground.

  The shorter, heavier archmage released his spell just before his companion toppled, but a streak of blackness struck him in the chest and clamped its jaws around his throat. Ghost tore the man’s throat out with a quick jerk of his head before sprinting after a fleeing soldier and taking him down from behind.

  Wolf gave chase along with Ghost, sending arrow after ar
row streaking into the backs of the fleeing men faster than he drew breath. He nearly drained his packed quiver in less than a minute, every one of the steel-headed shafts finding the flesh of the fleeing men.

  Allister sent fire and lightning after the soldiers that fled, leaving none of them alive to ever do harm or threaten another again. He turned to Azerick, his eardrums ringing with the shrieking of Magus Bauer’s agony. Her robes had been stripped from her body along with nearly every square inch of pale, white flesh. Her blood melted the crushed snow beneath her body and soaked the earth until it was as black as the demon’s heart, yet still she lived and still she screamed in an agony so great that the gods themselves must be cringing in their celestial palaces.

  “Azerick,” Allister cautiously addressed his young friend. “Azerick, listen to me. That is enough. Let her go, let her die. Azerick, I said that is enough!” The old archmage strode forward and grabbed the sorcerer’s arm.

  The pulsing ring of evil and hate still surrounding Azerick caused the old mage to gasp and clutch his chest, but he did not let go of Azerick’s arm. The screaming stopped and the magus’s body collapsed to the ground in a raw heap of flesh when the demon spun on Allister and struck him in the chest with the palm of his hand, sending the archmage sprawling in a heap several feet away. Klaraxis took two long strides forward and raised the spearheaded staff, poised to pin the foolish old man to ground.

  “Azerick, get control of yourself,” Allister told him calmly, looking up into the demon’s burning red eyes. “Do not let him control you, you are stronger than him. It is your body and your mind, not his. Do not let him take that from you.”

  Allister could sense the battle taking place behind the eyes of the young sorcerer. He knew that as long as Azerick could fight, there was no force that could subjugate him for long. He breathed a sigh of relief even before the internal battle ended.

  All right demon, get back in your cage. You have done quite enough.