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

Page 33

by Brock Deskins


  “Yes, mistress.”

  The siege of North Haven began two days later. Six massive trebuchets hurled stones weighing hundreds of pounds each. Some of the stones fell short and littered the ground between the attacking army and the city walls. Others sailed over the walls and occasionally crushed homes, shops, and anyone unfortunate enough to be in its path. Nearly half struck the wall after a short bounce or roll across the frozen ground or struck it squarely, doing a great deal of damage to the barrier with every strike.

  Onagers hurled dozens of fist-sized stones to help clear the walls of archers and to intimidate any forces that may be rallied against the ram crews. Magus Bauer and her two companions cast multiple wards upon the large, wood and hide-covered rams that would be used against the gates.

  For now, Kayne kept his men out of bow range and let the onagers and catapults soften up their targets before sending in the ram and the men to keep it safe. However, at the citadel more aggressive tactics were put into place.

  The three wizards stood several hundred yards from the school’s walls while five hundred footmen stood by and a hundred cavalry sat atop their mounts waiting for the order to charge.

  “We are ready to begin our initial sortie. Are you ready, Magus?” the officer in charge of taking the citadel asked Magus Bauer.

  “We are prepared, Captain.”

  With a nod to the wizard, the captain gave the order. “Cavalry, charge!”

  A battle horn repeated his command and the sound of thundering hooves filled the air.

  Azerick stood upon the wall next to Alex as they watched the soldiers arrayed in the field just outside the tree line. He looked at the young men and few women that stood atop the wall with him, ready to defend their home with their lives if necessary. Azerick had offered to let anyone who wanted to wait out the battle inside the much stronger walls of North Haven, but not one wanted to leave. From the youngest student to Agnes the cook, none would leave the citadel.

  The youngest students, Simon, Teresa, Brother Thomas, and Aggie stayed inside the tower along with Sandy. The little sand dragon had suggested that she might be more useful atop the wall where the enemy could see her, insisting that the mere sight of such a fearsome creature may frighten the humans enough to leave them alone. Azerick insisted that these men were all insane and would not be scared enough to run, and that her awesome might was best used to protect the younger children in case they gained entrance to the tower itself.

  Azerick could hear some of the students mutter their shock and fear at the sight of the army arrayed against them. No matter how much Alex and Jansen had tried to explain that there was nothing glorious about battle, he knew that most of them did not fully accept that fact until now. The sorcerer could almost hear the doubts in the minds of what were really mostly children. Children in armor and wielding crossbows and bows, ready to take the lives of the men that threatened them.

  The thought made Azerick queasy. It was how he was forced to grow up and he was fully aware of what it had done to him, how it had changed him. It was not what he wished for his students, but there had been little choice. That choice had been taken from them by the greed of other men just as the choice had been taken from him. Very well then, at least they would not stand alone in this battle.

  Azerick looked to his left and saw Rusty’s characteristic flaming red hair and orange and red robes standing next to Jansen halfway to the corner of the wall. To his right, Allister looked like he could have been a statue, his steely gaze unwavering, all trace of his kindly, grandfatherly face gone and replaced with a look of grim determination and pent up anger. Ken, the thin but incredibly strong blacksmith, stood near the old wizard wearing a shirt of mail and gripping a heavy forging hammer in each of his calloused hands.

  A horn sounded in the distance and the ground vibrated under the brutal pounding of a hundred charging horses. The swift running horses ate up the ground between the walls and the tree line with frightening speed. Wide, nervous eyes watched the invaders racing toward them, sweat dripping from the hands that gripped their weapons.

  Alex was given the responsibility of issuing the battle commands, which is why he held the center of the wall. Jansen was undoubtedly the most skilled fighter any of them had ever met, but he was not trained to lead an army. Alex had been groomed for commanding troops for the past twelve years at the Martial Academy, the finest battle college known in the kingdom.

  “Archers, ready!” Alex called in a high command voice that carried over the sound of the thundering horses and the shouting of men.

  “Loose!”

  Every defender that held a crossbow or bow stepped between the stone crenellation and released their shafts. Panic and inexperience caused many of them to over-shoot the fast approaching enemy, forgetting to adjust their aim for the speed at which the horsemen were approaching.

  Rusty sent a massive fireball into the charging army that burst directly in the midst of the lead horses. The resulting explosion of super-heated air was massive and shook the stones under Azerick’s feet. The flash was so bright that spots floated in his vision. But as soon as he blinked them away, he was shocked to see that the huge conflagration had done only minor damage. A few men and horses tumbled to the ground with severe burns while several horses panicked at the blast and threw their riders or bolted in another direction, but most emerged unscathed.

  Azerick heard Allister curse and turned just in time to see the old mage raise his arm up over his head then whip it down as if he were throwing something onto the ground. Hailstones the size of his fist streaked down upon the charging cavalry by the hundreds, the thunder of their impacts matching the hooves of the horses in volume and rhythm. Again, the spell seemed to do far less damage than it ought to have. Azerick saw that many of the stones shattered before they struck the ground or the enemy. A few more men were knocked from their saddles but not nearly enough.

  Azerick was desperate to stop or at least slow the charging invaders and slashed the air with his staff in a long, horizontal arc. A towering wall of flame erupted from the ground just yards in front of the oncoming cavalry. The blaze stretched higher than the walls of the citadel and was too close for them to avoid. As quickly as the flame wall sprung from the ground, it suddenly disappeared.

  Azerick quickly realized what was happening. They had wizards of their own and they were countering the spells that he, Rusty, and Allister were casting! This added a completely new set of problems for the defenders. Magic was the only thing that was going to give them a chance of successfully defending the citadel.

  Azerick cast one of his most reliable spells. With luck, it was unique enough and quick enough to prove effective before the enemy wizards could negate its effect somehow. The sorcerer turned his hand up like an inverted claw and watched with pleasure as a long, double row of stone spikes thrust through the earth impaling the broadly muscled chests of the unfortunate horses.

  Over a dozen of the animals tumbled to the earth at tremendous speed, throwing and rolling over many of their riders, crushing and pinning them beneath their enormous weight. Several more mounts directly behind those that were impaled tumbled to the ground as they tried to vault over or dodge around the twisted chaos of riders and horses.

  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 about the wall and felt his stomach drop when he spotted two of his students being carried away with arrows sticking out of them. They would be taken to the tower and administered to by Brother Thomas and his Chosen ones. Azerick prayed that their wounds were not too severe for their ministrations.

  “We have a problem, son,” Allister rumbled right 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,” Azerick agreed. “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 as the cavalry charged the walls once more, their bows held ready to rake the defenders with arrow fire. 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 was 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 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 upon it 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 relentless pounding of the ram. 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 through the solid stone wall before them. 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 spell casters 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 Klaraxis 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.

  So 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 so far as the two magi were concerned. There were still about fifty soldiers guarding
the wizards and what they assumed to be the command element. They would be disoriented for a moment after stepping through the gate but that seemed to be of a lesser problem for Azerick now.

  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 that attacked 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 far to the fore of his psyche.

  Azerick heard the demon’s gleeful laughter of delight 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 horrifyingly 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 spell casters did. He had some access to it, but his greatest power came from the dark energies of the abyss.

 

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