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

by Brock Deskins

  Alex, Jansen, and Rusty approached from the direction of the classrooms while Allister was just now exiting the keep with Aggie and the rest of the children. Many of the children were crying and being comforted by several women.

  Corpses littered the reception hall, and the courtyard was not much better. These were not clean kills like those made by arrows or simple stab wounds. Magic had been used; powerful magic that had torn men asunder and charred their flesh, and the smell was every bit as awful as the visual. This was something that was going to affect them for a long time. Azerick only prayed that the resiliency of childhood would be strong enough to see them through it.

  “All right, lad, I think this is most of us. What do you have in mind?” Allister asked gruffly.

  “I want you, Rusty, the senior apprentices, Ellyssa, and Roger to ride with me to North Haven where we will strike the enemy in their rear or flank. I also want Alex, Jansen, and any other fighting men we have to ride with us in case we run into a situation that requires some sword work.”

  “Leaving me to baby sit again, are you?” Aggie complained. “What’s the matter, afraid the old broad can’t still hurl a fireball or two?”

  “No, Aggie, quite the opposite. I am strongly debating whether to take you with us or not. I would greatly appreciate the formidable magic you wield, but I have to consider those I leave behind. If we fail to break the siege, then you all will have to flee, possibly all the way to Brelland. I would feel much better knowing that they will have at least one powerful spellcaster to protect them along the way if the rest of us do not make it back.”

  “Roger and Ellyssa are just children. You should leave them with the others to stay here.”

  Azerick shook his head. “They are also the two most talented students we have, and I need every mage who can cast a spell, use a wand, or read a scroll if I hope to break this siege.”

  Aggie looked at the two young students and saw that the look on their faces reflected their willingness to fight and chose not to argue.

  “Wolf, I want you to lead them east through the woods, then south to Brelland if you do not get a signal from us by nightfall. In fact, I want you all to load up with food, clothes, and blankets and go hide in the East Woods. If you do not hear from one of us before sundown, make for Brelland. We fought only a handful of their total force here. We will be facing several times as many at North Haven with even fewer people and no walls to hide behind nor rooftops to shield us.”

  “That’s all right, lad, I have been saving my best for last,” Allister replied with a wink.

  “Aggie, if you want to come with us, you are more than welcome. I will leave Ellyssa and Roger to go with the others. I have enough wands and scrolls that they should be able to deter most anyone or anything that may threaten them.”

  Aggie thought about it for a moment. “I don’t like the idea of those two children riding into that mess, but a journey like this is going to take more than just magic and wands. They’re going to need someone who’s been around a while. You can’t get wisdom and experience out of a wand or from a scroll. Besides, it’s been a long while since I’ve ridden a horse, and I’m not sure my old bones are up to it.”

  Allister opened his mouth to reply to her last comment, but Aggie saw the twinkle in his eye and shut him down before he could say a word.

  “Shut your mouth, you old goat, before I stuff your beard in it!”

  “All right then. Rusty, make sure everyone going with us has at least one wand with several charges in it. Aggie, have Agnes start packing food and water and equip the rest of the students who are capable of wielding them with whatever wands and scrolls remain.”

  Azerick grabbed Rusty by the arm before he ran off. “You may want to take a minute to say goodbye to Colleen and the babes before we go, just in case.”

  Rusty swallowed hard and mutely nodded his head.

  “Azerick, there is something else you should know,” Jansen said as everyone went about their business. “I took a minute to question a few of the soldiers we captured. Not all of them are mercenaries. A few are soldiers under Duke Ulric’s command. They said he sent them to augment the mercenary forces. Then, when they took North Haven, they were to sneak away to rejoin Ulric when he leads another force north to ‘drive out’ the invaders.”

  “That traitorous bastard,” Azerick snarled. “Once North Haven is safe, I am going to deal with Ulric once and for all. Do you know how many soldiers he has left?”

  “It does not sound like a lot, mainly conscripts and men he hired, but he has over a thousand men of his own here who will be joining back up with him once the city falls. He has a similar plan in mind with the ships that are blockading the harbor. Several of those will sail out to be joined by a few more sailing north and make it look as if he defeated the sea forces as well.”

  Azerick shook his head trying to decipher the meaning of such an audacious plan but came up blank. “Why would he go through all this?”

  Alex spoke up. “It’s obvious when you think about it. By rescuing North Haven, he can insinuate himself on the populace. North Haven is the last major city that supports the King and is hostile to him. He is already being hailed a hero in the southern lands and Brightridge. He could not only demand Miranda’s hand in marriage as the cost of her rescue, thus increasing his influence and power, but also label the Jarvin as weak and ineffective at protecting his people. He could demand the crown and take it by force if necessary. All he would have to do is march these mercenaries under his banner and no one would know the difference.”

  Azerick suspected that Duke Ulric’s complicity went deeper than that. He could have started this campaign years ago, but this plan of creating and solving a national crisis to take the crown by point of virtue and heroism was wrought with pitfalls. So many things could have gone wrong and had him branded as a traitor instead of a hero.

  He was probably the one that wanted Dundalor’s armor all along. Ulric had probably spent the last several years trying to get it. The mercenary option would cost him a fortune, so using the armor to secure the throne was the better strategy. It only cost him time.

  But something went wrong. Someone double-crossed him. Was it the Black Tower or was it Baneford? Azerick’s father had been murdered in Ulric’s prison. Ulric was the one who sought the armor, but the King’s men found out about the piece his father had. Ulric then hired the Rook to kill his father.

  Ulric was responsible for his parents’ death, for Azerick’s homelessness, Delinda’s death, and every tragedy in his life. Duke Ulric and his schemes had put in motion the events that caused every heartache and loss Azerick has ever suffered.

  Alex saw the raw emotions play across Azerick’s face. “Azerick, are you all right?”

  “No, but I will be better soon. Right now the city needs us.”

  ***

  Kayne sat atop his mount with a company of his cavalry watching as his trebuchets pounded the walls and flattened buildings just inside the city. Huge rents were already evident, and a group of his men fought furiously to penetrate one of the breaches. It would not be much longer until his trebuchets battered more holes in the wall, then nothing would stop his men from getting into the city. His ram crew had destroyed the portcullis, and the thick gates sported several deep cracks.

  A thousand men were packed beneath the wall guarding the ram from counterattack. The defenders had tried to use oil and fire to burn the ram and dropped large stones to stave in its roof, but the wards the wizards had put in place were holding up well against the abuse.

  Scores of men lay dead beneath the wall and around the breach, victims of boiling oil, arrows, and dropped stones, but Kayne’s archers had advanced and were doing a good job of keeping the defenders’ heads down and all but neutralized the threat they posed to the exposed soldiers beneath the wall.

  Kayne had been involved in a few sieges in the past, and he knew they could last weeks or even months, but he doubted that North Haven would be able
to keep his forces out for more than a few days, and that was granting them a great deal. They simply were not prepared for this sort of warfare. Their soldiers were unprepared, and their walls were weak to the point of being pathetic.

  He turned at the sight of horses out of the corner of his eye approaching from the northeast. Ah, this must be my men coming to inform me they have taken the tower, he thought as they thundered toward him.

  He hoped the three wizards were with them. He thought he could see the flapping of robes amongst the riders. Perhaps they can use their magic to hasten the breaching of the walls and gate.

  Kayne watched the approaching riders with mounting confusion. Why are they riding toward the archers and cavalry instead of my command element?

  Kayne realized what was happening when the first fireball shattered a huge section of his massed archers, slaying scores of them with a single stroke. Within the inferno, Kayne saw his and Ulric’s plans unraveling. Magical destruction began raining down upon his men. Each blast of lightning and every fire burst was like a death stroke cutting into his flesh.

  ***

  Captain Brague paced the battlements shouting orders to his men and cursing those below the wall. The jingling of bells chiming with every stomp of his boot and shake of his fist punctuated each outburst. Between his shouting and cursing, he cast nervous glances at the assembled riders a short ways down the street.

  Despite his vehement protests, Duchess Mellina sat atop her snow-white charger resplendent in her pale blue and white enameled plate armor. The Duchess looked every bit the ice queen the people of North Haven affectionately called her. Surrounded by her personal guard, she sat impassively, studying the situation at the wall. Only her deep blue eyes betrayed the fury that lay just below the frigid surface.

  Captain Brague also looked for Lady Miranda, knowing that the fiery opposite of her mother would disobey the Duchess’s command to stay within the castle, but he could find no sign of her. An arrow glanced off his breastplate, bringing his attention back to the attackers. After throwing a rude hand gesture toward the direction of the lucky archer, he ducked down behind a crenellation fully aware of the difference between bravery and foolishness.

  An explosion brought his head prairie dogging back over the tops of the battlement to see what sort of evil was transpiring now. Lightning, fire, and orbs of magical energy streaked out across the battlefield, shattering rank upon rank of archers and cavalry.

  Captain Brague jumped to his feet, his face contorted with fury. The Captain sprinted down the stairs to his cavalry and footmen waiting to engage any enemy that breached the gates or to plug any gap in the walls.

  “Captain Brague,” Duchess Mellina called to him, “what is happening out there?”

  “It’s that damned wizard and his ilk coming to make me look like an inept fool! I’ll be damned if I let that little upstart make me look ridiculous again!”

  Captain Brague began shouting orders to his waiting army. “Cavalry, follow me out of the southern gate, footmen through the eastern sally gates, and clear that breach! This is our city, and we will be the ones to crush this scum!”

  The Captain wheeled his mount to the south and charged toward the lightly guarded southern gates. Steel-shod hooves rang against the cobblestones as three hundred and fifty men on horseback charged after the enraged commander.

  “Open the gates!” the Captain shouted as he and his men approached.

  The huge wooden gates swung open and the portcullis was raised as the horses thundered past. Several hundred men afoot, many of them sailors, craftsmen, and laborers wielding whatever weapons they could get their hands on, followed the cavalry out the gates for the counter-assault that would either break the siege or doom them all.

  CHAPTER 22

  The surprise magical assault virtually destroyed the ranks of archers. The small groups of survivors scattered, running in all directions to escape certain death. Kayne’s cavalry was also brutalized but was still largely intact as they charged at the group of spellcasters, intent on cutting them down.

  Azerick swung his staff in a wide arc, raising a huge wall of fire in front of the charging cavalry. Rusty brought up a wall of flame nearly as large as the sorcerer’s, further slowing the riders and forcing them to lose valuable time by circumventing the scorching flames.

  Allister waved his arms and chanted. The old wizard blew on a small sphere of ice that formed in his hand, sending a cloud of icy fog roiling across a huge section of the battlefield. The fog bank rolled inexorably toward the enemy, obscuring the small group of defenders from the citadel. The enemy cavalry charged into the swirling mists, thinking it no more than a veil to screen the wizards from view. The men and horses felt the freezing, numbing effects of the fog the moment they plunged into its ethereal embrace.

  Frost rimed the horses’ large nostrils, and their breath came out in thick puffs of white nearly indistinguishable from the mists that surrounded them. The freezing vapors entered the lungs of man and horse, freezing and frost burning the delicate tissue so that they could no longer use the air they took in. Men tumbled from their saddles as their mounts collapsed or sought a way out of the killing miasma.

  Ellyssa, Roger, Maira, Joshua, and Umair used their wands and scrolls to devastating effect, launching balls of fire that consumed dozens of men as they burst throughout the enemy’s ranks. Walls of spinning blades and clouds of choking gas created impassable barriers and slew men and mounts without mercy.

  Allister pulled a fistful of bean-sized pebbles from a pouch and began chanting a long and complex spell. At the climax of his mantra, he hurled the stones high into the air where they continued to streak skyward, enlarging and burning with a halo of bright flames until they disappeared into the dense clouds hundreds of feet over their heads. A moment later, the stones came streaking back down toward the earth, each the size of a man’s head, wrapped in fire, and trailing a tail like that of a comet.

  The meteors struck across a wide stretch of the battlefield, each stone bursting with enough force to send scores of men hurtling through the air. It was the most awesome display of power Azerick, and probably anyone witnessing, had ever seen. The sheer scale of destruction was unimaginable as hundreds of men died in an instant, and still the spell weavers did not relent, would not relent, until they had no more power to use or they vanquished their enemy.

  ***

  Captain Brague and his cavalry burst out onto the battlefield without slowing or even pulling their swords from their scabbards to engage the invaders just outside the gates. Instead, they simply ran over the surprised infantry with their armored warhorses, bent on engaging the main body of marauders to the east. He and his riders would let the infantry take care of this rabble.

  North Haven’s cavalry charged toward the eastern section of wall just in time to see the meteor shower blow apart a massive section of enemy ranks to the north. Captain Brague pulled his longsword from his scabbard with a roar of challenge and charged into the rear of the distracted enemy.

  His arm pumped up and down like a relentless machine, cutting down any enemy within reach. He slapped away spears probing for vulnerable spots in his armor with his shield and trampled men beneath his destrier’s powerful hooves. The Captain fought like a madman, as if his soul had been possessed by the most fearsome abyssal spawn to ever inhabit the five circles of Hell.

  Captain Brague would give birth to a legend this day. People throughout the kingdom would speak of him as the chimes of death, for every time he swung his sword, they heard the jingling of bells, and a man would die beneath his blade.

  Deeper and deeper he cut his way into the ranks of his foes as his men tried in vain to keep up but were forced to engage the enemy he left in his wake. His footmen routed the enemy at the southern gates and followed the path he and the cavalry blazed through the mercenary forces.

  Captain Brague was the first to reach the outside of the breach in the city’s wall and continued hewing life and limbs f
rom the attackers pressing themselves into the fissure in an attempt to gain entrance to the city while the defenders pushed back from the inside. His men fought valiantly to reach their commander’s side and aid him in clearing the breach, but the press of enemy soldiers slowed them as if they were trying to swim against a river’s swift current.

  So ferocious was Captain Brague’s assault that for every man he slew another fled in fear of the ringing chimes that heralded another man’s death. Within minutes, North Haven’s defenders were able to push through the breach and engage the enemy on the outside of the walls thanks to the Captain’s relentless assault.

  Kayne watched with growing fury as the defenders arrested his cavalry charge and decimated his soldiers without being able to return a single blow against the damnable wizards. As he wheeled his mount away from the killing fog, he saw that the soldiers of North Haven had come swarming out of the breach to join a contingent of cavalry and footmen pressing back his southern flank until they were almost to the gate.

  Kayne realized that his soldiers and Ulric’s wizards must have been defeated trying to take the citadel, and his assault against North Haven was in danger of meeting a similar fate. However, if he could stop their cavalry from routing his infantry, he might yet still win the day. Those wizards could not cast spells forever. If he had to win this battle by attrition so be it. He had the numbers.

  He ordered his remaining cavalry to charge into the enemy cavalry’s flank. He still had more horses, and his men were better armed and better trained than those of the city. He would scatter their cavalry, rip apart the pathetic infantry, and send his forces through the nominally contested breach and gate that was ready to fall at any moment.

  Kayne’s charge drove his cavalry deep into Captain Brague’s flank. Cavalry battled cavalry, but Kayne’s charge gave his men the decided advantage of momentum. Captain Brague turned away from the foot soldiers he was battling and saw the vicious mercenary charge tearing his cavalry apart.