“Which of you are from the King?”
“I am, My Lord.”
“What is your message?”
“My Lord, King Jarvin requires your immediate presence to assist in resolving a dispute with several key nobles. All members are currently awaiting your arrival.”
Azerick sighed, annoyed at having to delay his work to settle some petty squabbling. “Very well. Did you use the gate to arrive here?”
“I did, My Lord,” the man replied, his discomfort at having done so evident in his voice and posture.
“One of my people will take you back. Please ask King Jarvin to assemble the council, and I will be there within the hour. Relay my appreciation to His Highness for indulging me. Haste is crucial at this point in the game.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Azerick turned to the man from Southport as Simon led the King’s messenger away. “What ill tidings do you bring?”
The man straightened and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “My Lord, Duke Beaumonte sent me with news of your son.”
Azerick’s lips compressed in a tight thin line. “What is it?”
“Just over a fortnight ago, a young man proclaiming to be Daebian Giles enacted a ruse and absconded with three of His Majesty’s naval vessels, killing more than a score of men in the process. There have been reports of him using these vessels to dupe merchant ships into allowing him and his pirate crew to board and make off with their cargo, and in two known cases, their ships as well. He also left several fires in his wake.”
“That is disturbing news,” Azerick answered. “What is it you expect of me?”
“His Grace would like to know what form of recompense he can expect from you.”
Azerick stared at the man until he practically wilted beneath his gaze. “Tell Duke Beaumonte my recompense comes in the form of advice. Inform every ship’s captain that no official of the crown will conduct any kind of boarding party on open water. All ships will make for the nearest port to conduct any and all cargo or customs inspections. My son stabbed me through the chest. His actions are his own, and I accept no responsibility for them. Good day.”
The representative looked about to argue, but a glare from the enigmatic sorcerer sent him scurrying for the door. Azerick turned his eyes to last man in the room who looked about to bolt for the door as well before relaying whatever message he held.
“Say your words and be gone,” Azerick ordered, his tone soft and dangerous.
The man, a simple sailor given the look of his clothes and smell, held out a sealed letter with a shaking hand. “I weren’t given no words, sir, just this letter to give ya, milord.”
Azerick took the letter and examined the seal. Pressed into the black wax was a seal similar to his own, only the tower lay in a shattered ruin upon what he assumed were bodies. As he read the words neatly penned inside, his face flushed as his blood boiled. It was all he could do to not incinerate this man standing before him.
“Are you a member of Daebian’s crew?”
“No, Milord. I ain’t never heard that name before. I mean, I heard it around the docks, but I ain’t never met him. A man gived me a silver piece to bring that letter to you and a gold crown to deliver something you was supposed to give me.”
Azerick read the letter three more times, but lashing his mind with Daebian’s words only served to increase his ire. “Simon!” Azerick shouted, his demonic lungs issuing the words with enough force to set windows and bones vibrating.
The nervous steward raced through the door seconds later. “Yes, My Lord?”
Azerick handed the letter to Simon. “Fulfill my son’s demand.”
Simon read the letter, his eyes growing wider with each word. “Oh my. Oh dear. But…”
“Just do it, Simon,” Azerick ordered softly.
Azerick’s steward raced down to the treasury and reappeared moments later carrying a small, ornate box measuring just a hand span in width and a couple inches tall. Azerick took the box and handed it to the courier.
“Tell your man to deliver this message to my son: there will be a reckoning.”
The man ducked his head and made haste for the doors. Azerick rubbed his temples in an effort to massage away the pain building in his head. Looking skyward as if beseeching the gods for help, he sighed, summoned his staff to hand, and made for the door with Simon following closely on his heels.
“Simon, check in on Raijaun for me. If he is feeling up to it, I need him to mind the barrier. I do not expect to be gone long, but now is not the time—.”
A mighty roar thundered across the grounds. Clouds, angry and black, rolled in like the waves of a storm-tossed sea. Lightning streaked across the sky, splitting the clouds into the multiple panes of a giant, darkness-enshrouded stained glass window. Azerick sprinted toward the commotion, his nerves on fire and his stomach churning with the realization that he had forgotten something terrible.
He came around the tower just in time to see Sandy smash her tail into the side of one of the school buildings, sending deep fractures all along its length. A second strike made the wall crumble and the roof cave in. Students began fleeing the wreckage through the doorframe still standing at the far end. Sandy swiveled her huge head toward the panicked children and reared back.
Azerick’s body and magic acted before his mind fully comprehended what either he or Sandy was about to do. A near invisible ray of force struck Sandy in the side of her head, shifting her tooth-filled maw away from the scrambling students just as she unleashed a torrent of flame. Her fiery breath instantly set the timbers of the collapsed building alight as if they were dried kindling.
Sandy directed her fearsome glare at the sorcerer and unleashed another mighty roar along with a second jet of fire. Azerick raised a ward and felt the heat wash over him. His shield protected him from the intense flames, but the heat of it scorched the ground and cracked the stone all around him.
“Sandy, stop!” Azerick cried.
The young dragon’s only response was to leap at him, clearing the fifty feet separating them in a single bound. Sandy crashed down with surprising grace and swiped a big, scaly paw at Azerick like a cat. The clawed hand caught him in his left side, sent him flying through the air, and tumbling across the ground. Had his body been as frail as the human form he took, the strike would easily have crippled or killed him.
Azerick rolled to his feet, his legs spread and crouched in a defensive posture. “Sandy, block them out of your mind! You must fight them!”
Sandy appeared to claw at the sky and pulled down bolt after bolt of lightning. The powerful bolts stabbed at the ground, buildings, and humans scurrying for cover. The momentary shock of Sandy’s attack passed, and the mages acted with expert proficiency, raising wards and shielding themselves and others from the elemental attack.
Sandy ignored the tumult around her and focused on Azerick. Azerick fed power into his ward as a dozen bolts converged into a single point aimed for the top of his head. Light flared all around him, blinding him in its intense luminescence. The sorcerer’s ward fought against the lightning’s awesome power, crackling and sparking in protest.
“Please, do not make me hurt you!” Azerick begged as the lightning strikes abated.
If Sandy was able to comprehend Azerick’s words, she showed no sign of being able to comply with them. The dragon hissed out words in her draconic language and the ground beneath Azerick’s feet turned to silt, enveloping him almost to his neck before solidifying and trapping him in a stony embrace.
The enraged dragon reared back, wreathed her mighty paws in eldritch power, and prepared to pounce. As she flexed her haunches in preparation of rending Azerick’s head from his shoulders, a brilliant gold and silver ray struck Sandy in the side with enough force to throw her into a nearby building, collapsing its entire western wall and a large portion of the roof. Sandy burst from the rubble with a furious roar and breathed a colossal column of fire at Raijaun. Raijaun shielded himself from the flames an
d intense heat and braced himself as Sandy launched herself at him.
The ground exploded around Azerick as he thrust himself into the air with a beat of his demonic wings. The transformed sorcerer flew at Sandy, wrapped his arms and legs around her neck, and held on tightly. Sandy roared and flung her head about in an attempt to dislodge her attacker. Arcane energy crackled all over her body, wreathing herself in a sparking aura of power.
Azerick gritted his teeth against the burning pain and hissed, “Forgive me,” as he slammed an open hand against Sandy’s head and sent a powerful burst of magic straight into her brain.
Sandy instantly slumped to the ground and lay motionless. Only the barely perceptible rise and fall of her thick midriff gave a sign of life. Azerick rolled to his feet and shifted back into his preferred form. Raijaun’s shoulders slumped with fatigue as he dropped his ward and stepped toward Sandy and his father.
“What happened, Father?”
Azerick took several deep breaths to steady his voice as his emotions threatened to tear it and his heart apart. “The Scions have managed to breach the barrier and send part of their consciousness into our world to ready the dragons for their arrival.”
“Does that mean the Scions are free? Has the invasion begun?”
“I do not think so. The dragons have all but vanished from our lands. I think most fled to faraway places after the Great Revolution. They will require time to organize and perhaps strengthen themselves before the battle begins. The Scions continue to strategically place their pieces upon the board before striking. Are you all right?”
Raijaun nodded. “I was not quite ready to expend so much energy so soon, but I am well. What of Sandy?”
Azerick looked to her and forced his eyes to staunch the tears welling up. “She is stunned and will remain so until I wake her. At least I hope so.”
“Can you help her?”
Azerick thought for a full minute before answering. “I think so. Can you transport her to the laboratory?” Raijaun nodded. “I will need you to check the barrier while I am gone.”
“Where are you going? Why now?”
“Jarvin needs a stick with which to beat his lords into submission.”
“How long will you be?”
“Not nearly as long as I had first anticipated. This changes many things, my patience for stupidity paramount among them. Get Sandy to lab and check the barrier. If the Scions have indeed broken through, you know what to do.”
“Yes, Father.”
Azerick sliced the air with his magic, opening a portal to bisect time and space. Stepping through, he appeared just before the east gates allowing admittance to the merchant district. Two wizards from his school appeared from inside a small guardhouse built to watch over the gates when their magical use was required. At least a dozen armored men stood watch and controlled the gates for their more mundane usage.
“Prepare the gate,” Azerick ordered as he strode toward them.
The two wizards exchanged glances over Azerick’s unusually abrupt command but hastened to obey. The man and woman laid their hands upon the two pillars framing the wide gates and began channeling power into them. The guards ordered everyone approaching to stay clear as the wizards worked their magic. The guards needed little in the way of prodding as the runes inscribed upon the tall monoliths began to glow with eldritch light. Within moments, a shimmering screen stretched between the two columns before resolving itself into the landscape of Brelland’s primary gate.
Three mages stood prepared on Brelland’s side, alerted of the gate’s activation by the obelisks at their end. Scores of ordinary citizens were quickly moving away from the gate while others stepped a short distance away and gawked. Azerick stepped through the portal without hesitation but paused on the distant end as vertigo washed over him. He sympathized with the ordinary humans for the effect traveling through the gate would have on them if even he felt such a strong sense of disorientation. He brushed aside his dizziness as well as his pity. He had no time for either of them.
Azerick appreciated the obvious militarization of the city. Barricades, racks of weapons, and cisterns of water were visible even this near the gates. Soldiers and conscripts marched through the streets, keeping them clear of anyone not gainfully employed. He was certain those preparations grew even greater the closer one got to the city’s center where three more magical gates stood to evacuate the city when it too came under siege. However, he did not have the time to spare to inspect them. Tearing open another portal, Azerick stepped to the inner gates leading to Castle Stonemount.
Despite having been warned of his impending arrival, the score of guards watching over the castle gate jumped and fumbled for weapons when he appeared. The men regained their composure and opened the walkthrough gate so the sorcerer could pass without further challenge. The officer of the guard saluted as Azerick approached.
“I need you to send a runner to the castle and inform the seneschal or His Highness directly of my arrival. I hope the council has already gathered, but if they haven’t, it is in their best interest to make haste. I have very little time to dally about.”
“Yes, milord!” the guard officer responded crisply.
The man shouted for a courier, and a boy of no more than fourteen years, wearing a too-big set of light armor with a short sword belted around his waist ran up. The gate officer relayed Azerick’s order. The boy took off at a sprint and quickly vanished. The soldier saluted once more as Azerick walked unhurriedly toward the castle. He could easily step there using another portal, but he wanted the council notified and assembled before he arrived.
The doors to the castle opened for him as he approached. Aaron Barker, Jarvin’s steward, stood waiting for his arrival wearing his robes of state.
“Lord Giles, His Majesty and the council is assembled and awaiting your arrival,” he said as Azerick approached.
“What is it that requires my immediate attention?” Azerick asked without breaking stride.
“A conflict has arisen between His Majesty and Lord Atwater. Lord Atwater controls a large area between Brightridge and Argoth and has close ties with Duchess Paulina. Much of his land encompasses the agricultural regions of the Habberback plains, which are vital to the kingdom’s food production and distribution. Due to his vast wealth and plentiful food supply, he has assembled one of the largest individual armies outside of Brelland or Brightridge.”
Azerick’s face soured as he considered the implications. No single lord would have been allowed to assemble such a large force under normal circumstances for fear of usurpation. But with the mandated conscriptions and massive war effort, those restrictions were removed.
“What does he want, more land, titles, his own duchy?” Azerick asked. “Jarvin should offer him nothing more than five feet of rope and a six-foot drop.”
“As well he would, only Lord Atwater’s argument is held with measured support by others. You see, a vast army out of Sumara has appeared just across the border near Argoth. Duchess Paulina has moved the bulk of her forces to block the pass, but given the size of the Sumaran army, she could hold it for only a matter of weeks at best. Lord Atwater is even now marshaling his troops to march to Paulina’s aid. Only Jarvin’s insistence in holding this quorum has held them in place.”
As ridiculous as the situation was, Azerick understood both positions. Valeria and Sumara were longtime bitter rivals and frequently in conflict. The southern provinces in particular would view any incursion into Valerian territory a hostile act no matter the assurances of Sumaran diplomats or even their own King. Jarvin would have to mobilize a superior army to force Lord Atwater to obey, but he could not get them south before the renegade lord merged his troops with those of Duchess Paulina’s, leaving the heart of Valeria nearly defenseless against the impending invasion.
Jarvin needed a stick to beat some sense into his wavering nobles, and that stick was Azerick. Azerick’s anger only mounted as he strode down the corridors to the audience hall, an
d the chamberlain had to nearly jog to keep pace. He was tired of the pettiness, tired of being the voice of reason, and tired of seeing his friends and family suffer. One of his sons was lost to him, possibly forever. His other son was in a state of exhaustion and agony from using his power to try and protect a people that would likely never fully accept him, and now Sandy lay in a state of unconsciousness from which she may never be allowed to awaken.
Aaron hurried into the audience chamber to announce Azerick’s imminent arrival, knowing the sorcerer would not wait outside for a single moment. The steward barely had time to speak his words before Azerick strode into the hall like a dark cloud moments from becoming a fierce storm. He took only a moment to survey those in attendance. He recognized several of the attending lords as well as The Academy Headmaster and a handful of senior wizards.
“Wonderful, Jarvin’s dog is here to bark at us,” a man declared vocally.
“Lord Atwater, allow us to conduct this meeting with civility,” Jarvin admonished from atop his throne.
“You speak of civility while Sumara marches on our borders, and then you bring in your thug to bully me into compliance like he has done so many times before. Not this time!”
“No one is here to bully anyone,” Jarvin assured the agitated lord. “Lord Giles is here to apprise us of the current situation so we may make intelligent decisions based upon fact and not emotions brought about by old prejudices. Azerick, how stands our current situation?”
“Poorly and getting worse,” Azerick answered. “The Scions breached the barrier in a manner that allowed them to take command of the dragons.”
“Have they escaped then? Are they on the march now?” Jarvin asked.
“I do not think so. This happened just before I departed North Haven, and I have not had a chance to inspect their prison because I am here dealing with this. Only recently is my son able to get out of bed due to the agony using his power causes him, and I just put down one of my dearest friends, but I cannot help any of them right now because I have to settle the squabbles of children! People are suffering and dying for all our welfare, including yours, but you still cannot see past your own insignificant existence.”
The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 6