“There are marauding bands of raiders sacking and pillaging towns to the south and word has it they are slowly working north. Brightridge supported Jarvin and is now without leadership, I have recently learned. North Haven also supports our current king. Perhaps the assassinations at Brightridge were a coincidence, but I will not bet my or my students’ lives on it. I pray to the gods that these kids will never have to know what it is like to have to kill a man to defend themselves and their home, but I will not have them unprepared to do so if the time comes.”
“Well at least let me go with you,” Rusty insisted. “I may not have had your trial by fire but I am not the clumsy student you knew in school.”
Azerick looked his friend in the eye. “Rusty, there is no one I would rather have at my back than you. You proved yourself when you saved my hide that night I fled the school, but this is going to be far more dangerous, and more importantly I need you to help prepare these students. I do not know how long I will be gone and I do not know where I will have to travel or whom I will face. Your place is here with your wife, babes, and these students. I am counting on you.”
Rusty nodded his head in understanding. He loathed to let his best friend, his brother in all but blood, go off on his own once again to face unknown perils by himself. However, he also knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Azerick.
Magus Allister cleared his throat to speak. “Azerick, we had another group of children show up at the door last night while you and Franklin were out. There were six in all, two of them with magical aptitude.”
“Great, I am sure you and the others can get them integrated quickly enough,” Azerick replied.
The magus shook his head. “That is not the problem, lad. The issue is that they were from Southport. Word has gotten out that you have opened your doors to homeless children and are running a sort of orphanage and school. I fear the children from last night are just the first drops of a potential torrent yet to come.”
“Ensure the builders extend the wall enough to encompass twice the number of billets we currently have. Simon can hire more cooks if need be and have another kitchen constructed. I suggest building it right up against the wall where the keep’s kitchen is now; there is plenty of room on that side. If we begin getting more students than we can house, build more billets. If it takes too long to construct them from stone then build them out of logs. We can always refit them with stone when time permits. Most of the students will be training on the martial side so hire some skilled swordsmen and fighters but only those who are of descent character. If you have any doubts, err on the side of caution. Above all, maintain discipline and order. I will not have my people abused.”
“Sounds like you are going to end up with your own little kingdom here, lad,” Allister rumbled with a smile.
Azerick shook his head to dispel the thought. “It is just a school, but a school that is capable of caring for its own. Zeb is in the harbor right now and he will take me south on his swiftest vessel. Allister, I need to borrow that bag you brought the academy books in.”
“Sure, lad, you’re more than welcome to it.”
Azerick dismissed the assembly and retrieved the magical bag from the old magus. He went to the kitchen and filled it with a large amount of foodstuff, even complete full meals cooked and covered with the lids tied down. The bag would keep anything put in it for a very long time in the same state it was when it was placed inside. A month from now, Azerick would be able to pull out one of the cooked meals as if it had just been prepared.
He added skins of water and wine, changes of clothing, and traveling essentials. Perhaps he would be returning in a couple of weeks, perhaps not. He may find his resolution in Southport but he was prepared in the event it may lie far beyond the city’s walls and he was prepared to go wherever he had to—and do whatever he must.
Azerick bid farewell and rode Horse down the lane towards North Haven amidst the shouts and cheers of his students, friends, and workers. He saw Wolf and Ghost standing by the side of the lane just ahead.
“What’s everyone screaming about? A guy can’t even take a nap in his own woods with all that racket. It’s even drowning out the woodcutters,” Wolf complained bitterly.
Azerick looked down at the half-wild boy as he rode by. “I have to leave for a while to take care of some business.”
Wolf kept pace with Azerick and Horse. “What kind of business?”
“What, didn’t Ghost tell you?” Azerick asked with a smile.
“We have not been on speaking terms since someone ate a whole coney off the spit and didn’t share,” Wolf explained with a dirty look at his wolf companion.
Azerick could not keep the humorous smile off his face and shook his head at the half-elf. “It is just some business that I need to look into.”
“Does it have to do with that man in black with the glowing eyes?”
“Now how do you know about that?” Azerick asked sharply.
“Ghost saw him and told me about him. No one comes in our woods without us knowing it,” Wolf told the sorcerer.
“Why did you not wake someone? That man was an assassin bent on killing me.”
“It’s not my job to act as your personal bodyguard! I have better things to do other than watch your back against everyone that wants to kill you. If I did that, I’d probably never get any sleep. You need to learn how to protect yourself eventually. You can’t expect me to always be there to save you. Besides, Ghost said you would be all right.”
“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 explained. “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.”
“Why, Wolf, I didn’t know you cared,” Azerick replied sardonically.
“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,” replied Wolf.
“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,” Azerick said, laughing.
“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 his plodding towards 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 jokingly.
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 warmly 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,” Azerick responded. “That is a sleek looking vessel you have there, Zeb, 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,” Zeb said proudly. “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 the horse 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 that the sailors gave him. There were several crewmen that 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 14
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 that they could be released 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 blandly.
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.”
Maude wondered if he expected her to be excited about the news. “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?” Maude asked without enthusiasm.
“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 moodily. “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,” Magus Illifan replied.
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 cries of protest 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?” the elven wizard asked, his eyes terribly out of focus.
“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 replied with a giggle and waved his hand in front of his face.
“I am sure it will come back on its own,” Maude assured him and sighed deeply as she 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.
“We have to leave in the morning on another artifact run,” Maude told him warily.
Borik’s eyes narrowed and 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,” Maude assured him.
“No undead neither?”
“Not supposed to be. It should be empty except for some lizards or something that decided to take up residence.”
“It ain’t a cave crawl is it?”
This is where Maude started to get nervous and braced herself for Borik’s tirade.
“It’s an abandoned temple built into the side if a cliff but it’s supposed to be pretty big.”
“Well, I guess two outta three ain’t bad,” the dwarf replied calmly.
“Well, okay then. Is everything all right, Borik?”
“Yeah, sure. Why, should there be a problem?” Borik asked.
“Um, no I guess not,” said Maude, a little confused.
“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 exactly 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 towards the confrontation that lay ahead, he failed to notice the other people that also occupied the alley until he was halfway down.
Three men were shaking down a young boy, from the looks of it, just around the corner where the alley wid
ened midway down. Intent on their young victim and secure in their numbers, they failed to hear Horse’s clopping hooves coming towards 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,” Azerick ordered in a low voice.
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 evilly.
“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 amount. 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 towards 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?”
The Sorcerer's Legacy (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 29
