The Sorcerer's Vengeance (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  Azerick looked into Miranda’s beautiful, liquid emerald eyes. “Your Grace, I am afraid my people and I will all be fully engaged defending the keep. If North Haven comes under attack, particularly if Ulric is behind it, they are not likely to leave us alone and risk us going to Brelland or Brightridge for help.”

  “You selfish, cowardly bastard!” Captain Brague shouted in rage. “You would allow the city that is your host and home to crumble about you just to save your own worthless hide! If you are truly worried about them and not just yourself, why not move the lot of them inside the city walls?”

  Azerick did not return the captain’s vitriolic accusation but calmly replied, “The citadel is home to over three hundred of this city’s displaced youth and dozens of men and women. It is my home, they are my family, and I will defend it and them with my very life. I will abandon neither for anything or anyone.”

  “That is enough, Captain. Magus, I thank you for your warning and I wish you well in your defense. If there is nothing else, I will bid you good evening while I and my counselors further discuss the defense of the city.”

  Azerick and Allister gave the duchess a small bow and departed the dining hall. Miranda caught up to them in the hall a moment later.

  “I will wait for you outside, son,” Allister told Azerick as Miranda came running after them.

  “Azerick, I heard only recently that you had returned. I am sorry that I have not found time to see you myself. This winter was every bit as difficult for us as the last one was. I had hoped you would come to see me when you returned.”

  “I am sorry, Miranda. I have been—preoccupied. I did want to see you, but things have been out of sorts for me since I got back. I wish I had come under more pleasant circumstances,” Azerick replied.

  “Is there nothing you can do for the city against these invaders?”

  Azerick sighed and replied remorsefully. “I wish I could, but I must defend the citadel. It is possible that whoever it is does not fully understand the nature of the school and will greatly underestimate our resources. If we break free of any siege, I promise you, I will come to the aid of the city—and you.”

  Miranda smiled warmly at the sorcerer. “I know you would never abandon us, Azerick, and I know you are the least cowardly man I have ever known despite Captain Brague’s rather harsh opinions.”

  “I am glad you feel that way. I would not like you to think poorly of me. I will do what I can.”

  “I know you will. Good luck. I will see you after the battle,” Miranda said and looked at Azerick expectantly.

  Azerick looked into her jade-flecked eyes, longing to feel her sensuous full lips against his, but Klaraxis’s mocking words haunted him and made him pull back.

  “I need to attend to other matters in the city, Lady Miranda. Forgive me, I must go,” Azerick said and spun on his heel and departed with haste.

  Damn that man and his aloofness! What do I have to do to get his attention, club him in the head? Miranda wondered in frustration.

  Miranda heard the telltale jingling of Captain Brague’s approach and stopped him in the hall. “Captain, when you have a moment I need you to find me a mace.”

  Captain Brague looked at the Lady in bafflement. “Whatever for, My Lady?”

  “So I can beat some sense into that frustratingly obstinate and oblivious sorcerer!”

  The captain’s face split into a wide grin. “Of course, My Lady! I have a very nice one of my own in my quarters you are more than welcome to. It has a fine balance that could powder stone! I’ll go get it immediately!”

  Allister followed Azerick to the docks where they quickly located Zeb and his senior officers eating supper at Barnacles.

  “Azerick, you’re just in time for dinner, but the look on your face says you’re not here to eat,” Zeb observed as he spied the two magi approaching his table.

  Since Toron was rarely far from Zeb’s side, they were easy to find no matter how crowded the area they were in. Azerick and Allister grabbed empty chairs from another table and sat down near the group of sailors.

  “Zeb, Balor, Toron, gentlemen,” Azerick greeted them all. “Zeb, how many ships do we have in port?”

  “All of them, lad. Majestic was going to ship out next week for a run to Lazuul and the Iron Shark was being tightened up and re-calked after our last push north but she’s done now, why?”

  “I think the port may come under attack. I want every ship we have mounted with as many weapons and men as you can find and get into place. The duchess is already ordering the harbor closed off, but I want to be ready to engage any warships if we are forced to flee the city.

  “There is a large group of soldiers that I believe are going to put North Haven to siege. Should the city’s defenses fail, you are to get as many people out as you can. If we break the siege I plan to join you and as many men as you can crew to engage the fools who dared to threaten the port and the city.”

  “Aye, lad, it sounds like a fine plan to me. We’ll be ready for whatever you have planned, you can count on it,” Zeb assured him, a sentiment that was loudly confirmed by the other men at the table.

  “I know I can, Zeb. I have no worries about that.”

  By the time Azerick and Allister left the sailors Zeb had already sent several of his men to relay orders to prepare the ships for battle.

  When Azerick and his former teacher returned to the keep, preparations were already underway to fortify the school. Alex and Jansen were busy directing groups of men, women, and children in the defense of the keep. The younger children carried bundles of arrows and quarrels to the tops of the wall and flat-roofed, crenellated buildings. Women set up buckets of water and sand to defend against fire, and men built barricades out of timbers and over-turned wagons to cordon off the passageways between buildings.

  Everyone worked through the night to ensure that they were as ready as they could be to defend their home. They divided up the work shifts the next morning to allow everyone a chance to get some much needed rest while the others continued to shore up, recheck, and add to their defenses. Even Wolf and Ghost were out adding defenses of their own to the woods they called home.

  Whatever came, the school would be ready to defend itself.

  ***

  As Kayne’s men marched toward North Haven, nearly a dozen white-sailed ships flying no colors of allegiance bobbed on the open seas just outside the city’s harbor. They did not attempt to breach the defenses and invade the harbor, nor did they come within range of the shore defenses, but it was apparent that they were not going to allow anyone to leave North Haven by sea.

  Zeb examined each of the ships through a spyglass from aboard Dolphin’s Grace, something he was certain every one of his ship captains were also doing. The ships were large war galleons, each one of them bristling with weapons, but as far as he could tell, were not crewed with boarding parties. Each of those monsters could hold nearly five hundred men, but he counted perhaps a fifth of that number actually aboard. It was possible that there were large numbers in the hull, but if there were, none had made an appearance on deck, which was highly unlikely. You could not keep that many men penned up below decks for very long.

  Balor was captaining Majestic while Toron held a tight command of the heavy icebreaker, Iron Shark.

  Three of Zeb’s most trusted men captained the other ships he commanded, including the flat-bottomed Freedom Winds, but she was to be used as an evacuation vessel only, being ill-suited for sailing the open seas.

  Zeb studied those ships with a professional eye. Outnumbered and far outgunned, he knew that even with the young Sorcerer’s help it was going to be a dangerous, almost insanely difficult battle if it came to that, and he was not looking forward to such a prospect with nearly as much enthusiasm as Toron was.

  ***

  Kayne had not even reached the city but was already suffering battle losses and it annoyed him to no end. First he lost three men to some savage animal attack and another with the cleane
st sword cut he had ever seen.

  Four men were killed outright by various booby-traps employing swinging logs and sprung tree limbs with sharpened stakes lashed to them. Seven more had stepped into shallow pits with sharp wood and steel spikes in them. Those men would either lose their foot or die within days from infection caused by the filth that had been spread on the spikes.

  Word came back this morning that two of the night sentries were dead with arrows in their throats and no one heard or saw a thing. He would have to double up the sentries from now on. He had not expected this kind of guerilla tactics from the peaceful northern people.

  Still, the numbers were small considering the nearly five thousand men under his command. Ulric had done well recruiting and shoring up his forces. Kayne had had some reservations about attacking a city like North Haven with only the thirty-five hundred men he had expected to lead, but the bolstered numbers made him confident that he could take the city within weeks, if not days. He paid his engineers and sappers well and soon they would earn their gold.

  His engineers would be at the edge of the forest just a short ways from the gates of the city where they would lead men in the construction of siege engines. Rams and huge trebuchets should make short work of the walls and gates, but he would have men working on scaling towers as well in case the walls and gates proved overly resilient. They should not be necessary but he would be ready in any case.

  North Haven had been built to defend against pirates and other sea born threats, not powerful sieges by land. The builders had always thought themselves too far north and far enough from any source of hostile forces to require the extra expense of the tall, reinforced walls of the southern cities like Southport, Brightridge, and Argoth. That assumption was now going to cost them dearly.

  The sound of axes, saws, and mallets soon echoed throughout the once peaceful forest. The cracking and crashing of the majestic trees sounded like a death rattle to Wolf’s pointed ears as he watched the invaders desecrate his home. He would make them pay for this he swore as he crept wraith-like from shadow to shadow.

  He occasionally found a lone man or a pair of men chopping and sawing on his trees at the far edge of the ring of guards that were supposed to protect them. However, their great numbers left them feeling overly safe and not expecting any danger despite Wolf’s previous ambushes. This allowed him to pick off a few more men from the fringes of the main body from time to time.

  Wolf knew he was a flea biting a bear, but he would not allow these men to foul his home unanswered so he would keep biting them every chance he got.

  CHAPTER 20

  Kayne tasked a hundred cavalry and five hundred footmen to take what he had heard described as some sort of orphanage. Kayne knew it was overkill but his men described it as having a respectable wall and several men guarding it as if it were a military outpost. Even so, he wanted it taken quickly. A single ram should have little trouble breaching the gates, and then his men would easily take the tower.

  All things considered, everything was going exactly as planned. This endeavor, although long and complex in the making, would prove quite profitable for him in the end.

  Kayne relaxed inside his command tent, sipping tea from a fine set of porcelain he liberated from a nobleman’s home in Groveswood. It was one of those rare pieces of plunder that he enjoyed, not for the monetary value but for its fine artisanship and uniqueness. It was as thin as an eggshell and felt so fragile that it almost made him nervous to pick it up. It was pure white with a gold rim encircling the top and featured a very life-like depiction of a stag hunt in fine azure lines beneath the flawless glaze.

  “Commander Kayne,” one of his guards addressed him just outside the tent, “there are three individuals who request to see you. They say they have been sent by Duke Ulric.”

  “Let them in,” Kayne replied over the top of his delicate teacup.

  He smiled in appreciation as he felt the cup vibrate under the sound of his voice.

  The guard entered and held open the tent flap for his guests. Two of them appeared to be tall and lean, the other much shorter and possibly on the fat side. It was hard to tell. Heavy, hooded robes of a dark material obscured their forms considerably. One of the tall ones and the short one’s robes were of the deepest black. The other tall one, the one standing in the center, wore robes of such a deep red that it was nearly black as well.

  “You are commander Kayne,” the one in the middle spoke with a soft but commanding voice.

  It was not a question but Kayne answered anyway. “I am. What can I do for you?”

  The one who spoke lowered his—her—he now saw, hood. “I am Magus Lillis Bauer of The Magus Academy. These two gentlemen are both wizards of the Black Tower. Duke Ulric has enlisted our services and requested that we provide you with whatever aid we can. I assure you, our aid can be quite substantial.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Kayne said with a broad smile, flashing his perfect white teeth. “Please, have a seat. Would you care for tea? It is quite good.”

  “Tea would be excellent, Commander, thank you,” Magus Bauer replied and took a seat on an available campstool.

  Kayne opened the ornate silk and cotton-padded case that held the entire service set and removed three more of the delicate porcelain cups. He then crossed the tent and retrieved the silver teapot that steamed over a lit brazier.

  Ulric had told him that he had recruited some special talent but he had no idea that it would be in the form of three wizards. As a fighting man, he was not overly fond of spell casters but he did not fear them either, like most. They were a tool, a weapon, and he would employ them to the fullest of their abilities and be grateful for it.

  His intelligence heard rumors that the man who ran that orphanage on the hill was some sort of magician but he had paid little heed to it. However, if it were true then these three should be more than capable of countering whatever resistance he threw at them, unless they were somehow inept or lacking in skill.

  He could tell right off that that was not the case. Malicious power lay very close to the surface of Magus Bauer. He could feel it raise the hairs on his arms and could see it in her eyes. She was not one to cross. The other two had lowered their hoods as well and both had the look of men who were quite confident in their own power but were smart enough to defer to the woman.

  “Exactly what kind of assistance will you be able to provide me so that I may better plan my stratagems?” Kayne asked as he returned the teapot to the brazier and sat down.

  “We can provide wards to protect your rams against fire, stones, and magical attack, we can greatly reduce the effectiveness and accuracy of arrow volleys, as well as striking the enemy with powerful magical attacks if necessary. You know; Fire, lightning, those sorts of things that impress and terrify the common rabble so much. But mostly our role should be defensive in nature, particularly against the citadel atop the keep.”

  Kayne nodded in understanding. Perhaps there was more to the rumors than he suspected.

  “I had heard there was a magician of some sort within the keep. Is he likely to be a problem?”

  Kayne was surprised to see that the woman was capable of looking even more serious and dour than before. “The one who owns the tower was once a student of The Academy, a sorcerer. He left well before his training was complete but he managed to pick up a measure of power on his own or with the help of someone unknown to the Magus Academy.

  “Although exceedingly young, he does not lack talent or audacity. Not long ago, he strolled into the academy headmaster’s office and killed him, doing a great deal of damage in the process.”

  “The headmaster? Then he is formidable.”

  “He is more crafty than powerful, I believe, but not to be underestimated. He is no archmage and my associates and I can handle him with little trouble.” Her face grew more shadowed. “A greater concern is that one of my former colleagues may be there as well. He had some kind of special attachment to the boy. If he is her
e, then that will certainly add a measurable challenge but not an insurmountable one.

  “That is why our power is best left to providing defensive measures, to counteract those that would use magic against your men so that we might keep them alive long enough to kill them with steel.”

  Kayne nodded approval. “Very wise, Magus, I will defer to you and your associates in all matters magical. I just ask that you keep me informed so that I can direct my men most effectively.”

  Magus Bauer cracked a humorless smile, breaking her rigid countenance. “Ulric told me you were a smart man for a mercenary. I am glad to see he was correct. We have already had our apprentices erect our quarters. As soon as you are prepared to take the citadel, we will be ready.”

  The three magi stood as one and departed Kayne’s tent. They crossed the muddy ground, churned up by countless boots and mixed with slushy snow. A simple cantrip kept the wizards from soiling their robes or soaking their soft, leather, fur-lined boots.

  They approached a small, circular tent no more than fifteen feet in diameter recently erected only a short ways from the command tent and strode through its open flap. They were not concerned with anyone entering unannounced, such would be impossible. The magic of the tent allowed only those who were granted permission to enter its true confines. Anyone else entering would only find an empty tent.

  However, those that belonged would find themselves inside a palace made of rich, colorful canvas and silks. The interior was enormous with half a dozen large, opulent bedrooms, dining section, library, and reception room. It was neither hot nor cold no matter the weather outside.

  Two apprentice wizards were busy setting up a tray of finger foods and wine. “Masters, mistress, everything is ready,” the young woman told the three senior wizards.

  “Very good, Cecilia,” Magus Bauer replied. “Bring the tray to the library, Vincent. We will have dinner promptly at six. I am in the mood for mutton and wild rice.”