Hand Made Mage
By
James A. Haddock III
Copyright © 2019 all rights reserved
Website: Jameshaddock.us
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover art by
Lothar Dieterick
from Pixabay, used by permission
Ghost, a young Criminal Guild thief, is ordered to rob an ancient crypt of a long dead Duke. He is caught grave robbing by an undead insane Mage with a twisted sense of humor. The Mage burns a set of rune engraved rings into Ghost's hand, and fingers. Unknown to Ghost these rings allow him to manipulate the four elements.
Returning to the Guild to report his failure, everyone thinks he has riches from the crypt, and they want it. While being held captive by the Criminal Guild, Ghost meets Prince Kade, the fourth son of the King, who has troubles of his own. Ghost uses his newfound powers to escape from the Guild saving the Prince in the process.
Spies from a foreign kingdom are trying to kill Prince Kade, and Ghost must keep them both alive, while helping Prince Kade raise an army to stop an invasion. Ghost finds out trust to soon given, is unwise and dangerous. He is learning people will do anything for gold and power. As Ghost's power grows, his enemies learn he is a far more deadly enemy than anything they have ever faced.
Chapter one
It was almost dawn, and I needed to be out of the graveyard before sunrise. Putting the night's harvest in the coin purse around my neck I hid my tools. I left the crypt through the hole I had made in the wall behind a column. Once outside I replaced the marble facade covering the hole. I looked around and saw no one. Anyone seeing me leave would assume I was just one of many who slept among the dead. The graveyard was one of the safer places to sleep, and I had done so frequently. Most people had a fear of the places of the dead, I did not. The dead wouldn't bother you, the living on the other hand...
I walked through the wet grass and pre-dawn fog to the nearest gap in the iron picket fence, then turned toward the river. The city watch was supposed to patrol the graveyard. No one cared, least of all the old watchman. I walked at a steady pace down the cobblestone street, just another early morning figure going about his daily life. I wanted to wash the cobwebs, dust and musty smell of the dead off of me. I liked to keep a neat appearance. People asked fewer questions if you kept yourself clean, and the city watch didn't look as closely at you. I didn't like to draw attention to myself. Attracting attention, was attracting trouble, and beatings were sure to follow.
Don't get me wrong, I can hold my own with one or two, with fists or blades. But when the city watch gets involved, you don't fight back. That was a sure way to be found floating face down in the river. You could recover from a beating, the other was more permanent.
The smell of fresh bread from the bakery on the corner reminded me of how hungry I was. That would be my next stop, after I got cleaned up. This area of the river front was already busy with the workmen who loaded and unloaded barges. Barges heading up and down the river moving cargo, all the time.
There were already a few women at the river's edge washing clothes. "Grandmother, what will you charge me to wash my pants and shirt?"
She looked at me and my clothes, "a two-penny." I nodded, taking off my shoes, shirt and pants. "Your small clothes too." I nodded, unwrapped them, and laid them in the pile. I walked into the cold water of the river. "Here, use this too," and tossed me a bar of soap.
I caught it smiling, "yes ma'am." I washed my hair, and scrubbed myself clean, my skin was red from the strong soap. I rinsed myself double good, so it left no soap behind to burn me. I returned her soap, and she handed my small clothes to me. They were damp but clean. I re-wrapped them and waited for her to finish my other things.
She finished, and I gave her a five-penny. "Thank you, Grandmother." I had learned courteousness and coin paid better dividends than just coin.
"Bless you son, I'm here most mornings when you have need again." She turned back to her work. Clean and damp I made my way to the bakery. There were a few people in line, I took my place behind them. I waited admiring the smells.
"Next," I stepped forward, "what'll you have?" the man asked.
"Bread, cheese, ham."
"five-penny." I paid a girl, probably his daughter, she gave me my food, and I was on my way. I ate as I walked.
I had to report in to Tall-man and pay his part on my night's take. It wasn't good for your health to not pay him his share. "Dues," he called it, for letting you work in his area.
I made my way through dirty, dark alleys and backstreets. The "Den" for this area was under the back of an off street warehouse. Two toughs were watching the door.
"He's in a foul mood this morning, Ghost."
"Thanks Dane," I replied as I entered. I heard the shouting as I walked down the musty dark hall toward the back room. The door was open, but I waited.
"You holding back on me boy?" Tall-man shouted as he put boots to one of the street urchins. "You holding back from me?" The boy never had time to answer he passed out from the kicking. Tall-man kick him a few more times, for good measure. "Get him out of here." Two toughs grabbed him and dragged him out.
Tall-man stepped back to his scarred three legged desk, the fourth leg was a rock. Picking up his cup drinking from it. "Examples got to be made, discipline maintained." He said to no one in particular.
Seeing me at the door he motioned me in. I took my purse from my neck and poured its contents out on his desk.
He looked over the take, and then at me. "You spend any this morning?"
I nodded, "ten-penny." He held my gaze seeing if I would flinch or look away I did not.
"You holding back?"
"No Tall-man." He held my gaze a moment longer, then looked back at my take. He took the three rings and left me the three coins. He made a shooing motion, and I took my coins and purse from his desk.
"Lead-man wants to see you." He thumbed over his shoulder toward the closed door in the back of the room. I nodded and went to the door and knocked.
"Come," came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, looking inside at Lead-man. He was a mean-eyed man with a scar across his face.
"Tall-man said you wanted to see me."
"Yes, come in, and close the door." He spoke in a friendly voice, which he only used when he wanted something. I closed the door and turned back to him. He took out a paper with a drawing on it.
"Do you recognize this?" I moved to his desk looking at the dirty paper, which was a map.
"Yes, that's the graveyard where the oldest crypts are located, some ancient, maybe some of the first ones. They say they are warded against entry by powerful spells."
He nodded, "so they say. I am told there is a way around the wards. They say that if you tunnel in from the side, you will bypass the wards on the doors." I doubted that, but I held my peace. "This particular crypt," he pointed, "belongs to a Duke. I would think it would be a good place to plunder." I looked at the location nodding. This was his story, and I would not interrupt.
"I want you to take Shorts, and Pick with you tonight find that crypt and start your tunneling. You don't have to report back until you reach the Duke's crypt, or a week from now to report your progress. Questions?"
"Food for the week?"
He put two golds on the desk. "Anything else?"
&nbs
p; "No, Lead-man,"
"Good, go make us rich." Which meant go make him rich. I nodded and left his office.
As I passed Tall-Man's Desk, "Shorts and Pick are waiting for you outside, be back in a week." I nodded and left his office. Shorts and Pick were waiting outside talking with Dane. Pick was a big strong man, miner as you might suspect with a name like Pick. Shorts was, well, short. Not a dwarf but close to it. He was also a strong man that knew how to use a pick.
I crossed the alley to them, "they tell you anything?" Both of them shook their heads, no. "The short of it is, you'll be working with me, we have some digging to do."
"In the graveyard?" Pick asked frowning.
"Where else?" I answered smiling.
"I hate that place, gives me the creeps. I don't want to go there any sooner than I have too." We chuckled at him.
"I need to get some sleep, meet me at the west entrance at nine o'clock tonight, bring lanterns, your tools and we'll get started." They nodded and went their way, and I went mine.
✽✽✽
I was waiting for them when they arrived, a few minutes past nine. I had three days' worth of travel food for the three of us. If we weren't done by then, I figured we'd need a break anyway.
"Ready?" I asked.
"As I'll ever be," Pick answered, Short nodded.
I led them to the gap in the fence. Then on to the crypt I used as my entrance to the catacombs. Gathering my tools and lighting a lantern we climbed down into the tunnels below. We stopped at an intersection of tunnels.
"If we get separated, I mark each tunnel, I pointed at the wall. It's got a cross, a circle, or headstone. The cross marked tunnel takes you to the graveyard church, the circle is an exit out, and the headstone are to the catacombs." They nodded their understanding.
We continued to follow the tunnel deeper into the catacombs. The flickering lantern light gave the place a creepy feel. I smiled thinking of how Pick felt about the place.
We had walked for a long time, "You know where you're going?" Shorts asked.
"I know about where we're going based on the map Lead-man showed me. I've never been there before. I'm thinking this is a waste of time. I'm guessing that crypt was plundered generations ago. But I would not tell Lead-man that."
"Smart thinking, that." Pick said.
We walked on a good while longer, finally coming to a large set of double doors with lion statues standing guard. There were scraps of clothing and bones scattered around the room. That was not a good sign, and I took it as a warning.
"I don't like taking chances, let's find another way around to a side tunnel and dig through." They both nodded and followed me back to the last intersection. One tunnel had a downward slope to it the other did not. We wanted to stay on this level so we took the one that had no slope. We followed the new tunnel until we felt we were well past the door and started digging.
The first three feet of digging was easy, mostly dirt. After that we hit mostly rock. We traded off digging, stopping to rest and eat. I finally called a halt to the work, and we ate and slept. We woke and took care of the morning needful and ate. Each caught up in our own thoughts.
"Does it always smell like this?" Shorts asked. I had been doing this so long I didn't notice the smell anymore.
I sniffed, finding nothing unusual, just the normal musty smell of decay. "Sometimes worse after a fresh burial."
"You must love your job," Pick said.
"I like the solitude, no one bothers me down here."
"I wonder why," Pick said chuckling.
I just smiled, taking my pick and standing up. "let's get back to it."
Our tunnel was about ten feet along when we broke through into another passageway. We went slowly, not sure what we would find on the other side. We made the opening large enough to lean in with a lantern to see more of the passageway.
"What do ya see?" shorts asked from the rear.
"Stone lined passageway, floor, and walls. I can't see the big doors so we must be a good way from them. Let's open the hole a little more."
Shorts came forward to take his turn opening the hole. He made quick work of it. Picking up the lantern he stepped through the opening into the passageway, with us following close behind.
There was a roar, and Shorts screamed. In the dancing lantern light we saw a stone lion had Shorts' arm in its mouth and was shaking him like a rag-doll. We dropped our lanterns and attacked the lion with our picks. Roars and screams filled the passageway. I swung my pick striking the lion in the back. It squalled and released Shorts and turned on me. As he approached me a pick crashed into his head and it crumpled into dust and rock. We stared down at the pile of rocks that was a lion a moment ago. We were breathing hard trying to catch our breath. Shorts sat against the wall holding his ruined arm.
"Where's the other one?" Shorts asked.
I jumped up grabbing my pick putting my back to the wall, moving over to Shorts and Pick. "Good question." We waited, watching and listening.
"How bad?" Pick asked.
"Arm's broken in a couple of places. No blood. Shoulder's probably in bad shape too, but I can't feel it yet."
"Ok, lets back out of here and get you to a healer. We're not going to split up with that other lion still out there somewhere," I said. We picked up our lanterns and moved toward our tunnel.
"Do you have a back-up plan?" Pick asked. I turned looking at him. He had his lantern held up at our tunnel, or where our tunnel should have been. It was now a solid stone wall.
"Well, that's not good," I said, looking at the wall. A deep growl came from the passageway back toward the doors we had by-passed. "We can't stay here, let's see if there is another way out. I'll take lead, Pick you watch behind." They nodded, and we moved away from the growling. We kept moving down the passageway. The growling got no closer, but always there.
"Why do I feel we are being herded?" Shorts asked.
"I had the same thought," I answered, "but we have to move or fight. Right now I rather be moving."
My lantern light pierced the darkness with each step we took. It finally showed an open set of double doors. I moved forward slowly, passing through the door. The room on the other side had two doors one standing open, the other closed. The open one had a cross over it. It must go up to a chapel. The other door had no symbol on it but was guarded by two armed and armored stone knight statues.
Once Pick was through the door, we closed it behind us. Hopefully, it would keep the lion from us. We went through the Chapel doors, but we could not close them.
"You two go ahead, I'll guard here for a bit and then follow. Get to the Chapel and out as fast as you can, I'll meet you up top." They nodded and started up the stairs. The sounds of their footsteps faded, I would give them a few more minutes then I would follow.
Time seemed to move slowly, and the air was a little close, but I knew it was my having to wait that was making it feel that way.
I heard growling at the far door. I watched the door it seemed to move like it was being pushed against.
I moved to stand behind a column to the side of the room as the doors burst open. When the lion ran past the column I was behind, I made to bury my pick in its back but missed. Instead, I buried my pick in the floor.
The lion disappeared up the stairs toward the chapel. I needed to follow, but I needed my pick first. I was trying to break it loose from the floor when I was grabbed from behind and thrown bodily against the wall then crumpled into a pile on the floor. I lay there stunned, then was grabbed again. I tried to see who my attacker was by the flickering lantern light. It was the two knights that had been guarding the other door. I tried to break free from their grip but could not. They dragged me toward the closed door. Try as I might I could not gain my freedom, kicking them was literally like kicking a stone wall.
As the knights dragged me toward the doors, they opened. At the other end of the room on a raised platform was a throne. On the throne sat a decaying corpse in armor. The corpse lo
oked at me, "a thief." The knights dragged me before the throne and threw me down. "Have you come to steal from me?" Not normally one for a loss of words, this time I was too stunned to say anything. "Well, we wouldn't want you to leave empty-handed," he said laughing. It was a crazy hysterical laughter.
The corpse rose from his throne and walked over to a chest along the wall and opened it. looking inside as if deciding, "Yes that one will do, he will do nicely." He reached in and pulled out something I could not make out. He returned to stand in front of me. A knight held my left hand forward presenting it to the corpse. It worked the gold rings on my fingers, and thumb as flesh fell from its decayed hands. Each ring was attached to a gold bracelet by a gold chain. He snapped the bracelet around my wrist, holding my hand in his rotting hands.
He squeezed my hand tightly and began chanting in some arcane language. When he finished he said, "It is done, now you won't leave empty-handed." He started laughing his crazy laugh again. My hand burst into flame. I watched in horror as the gold rings and bracelet melted into runes, then melted into my skin. The only thing I could do was scream, on and on, as the pain became unbearable. I mercifully faded into blackness somewhere during the process.
Chapter two
Pain pulled me from the blackness of unconsciousness, but the darkness of the crypt was still around me. I was lying on some steps and there was a faint light at, what I assumed, was the top of the stairs.
I don't know how long I had been out. My mouth was dry and gummy. My hand shot pain up my arm every time my heartbeat. Cradling my ruined left hand to my chest, I stayed on my right side as I started crawling up the stairs toward the light.
My whole body hurt from the kicking the knights had given me. It seemed to me a beating from Stone Knights hurt more than a beating from a guild enforcer. I hoped I'd never have the opportunity to make that comparison again.
Hand Made Mage Page 1
