The Sorcerer's Torment (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  “Who do you think it is? What do they want?” Azerick asked.

  “It’s pirates or I’m a one legged milk maid. Ready the scorpios and deck catapults! I want every man to the armory to draw swords and crossbows!”

  Men scrambled everywhere across the deck and into the rigging with cutlasses stuck through their belts and gripping crossbows. No sailor wanted to face a battle at sea, but the treacherous waters made the prospect of doing so a very real hazard and they all trained for such eventualities.

  “I hope you aren’t afraid of a fight, boy.”

  “No, sir. Not at all,” Azerick said with confidence.

  “Then you better be ready to fight like a demon, because we are outnumbered, outgunned, and it’s win or die out here.”

  Azerick crossed to the armory, thrust a couple of dirks through his belt, and retrieved his staff. You are not as outgunned as you may think, Captain. I bet they do not have a sorcerer on their ship.

  He just hoped he would be enough to turn the battle to their favor. Azerick would only use magic if forced. The general populace was wary of magic, and sailors were more superstitious than most.

  As the two ships cut towards the Sea Star, Azerick was able to make out more details. Both were two-masted schooners but they carried extra sail for speed. They were lighter ships than the sea star but still sported a catapult on the bow and several scorpios along the rail. Captain Zeb ordered deck shields locked in place. The deck shields were simply iron-banded wooden shields that slid into slots on the deck and tied to the railings to provide cover from all but the heaviest projectiles.

  The men scrambled to follow the captain’s orders and crouched behind the shields with their crossbows cocked and ready. The minutes turned to hours as Zeb tried to avoid the pirates, but the wind favored their foes. The moment they closed within range, the pirate vessels began flinging chain into the rigging. The steel links fouled the lines and tore holes into the sails. The ship began noticeably slowing as they ruined rigging lost the wind. The sailors aboard the Sea Star returned fire with their own catapult, but the pirates continued to gain.

  When the first pirate vessel came within a hundred yards, the captain ordered his men to loose their crossbows at will. Dozens of quarrels flew from the Sea Star like a swarm of angry hornets. Azerick saw a couple pirates brought down by the fusillade, and then the pirates returned the assault. There were more pirates on the enemy ship than on the Sea Star, and there were two of them.

  “Pull us to port and do not let them catch us between them!” Zeb ordered.

  Azerick watched as the second ship tried to maneuver to the other side of them. If the pirate vessels caught the Sea Star between them, they were sure to be torn to shreds in the flanking assault. The Sea Star swung hard to port, cutting straight across the path of the second enemy ship, but their maneuver caused them to lose a lot of precious wind and they fell closer to the pirate ships.

  “Prepare to repel boarders!” Captain Zeb shouted as the ships closed to within fifty yards.

  Azerick stepped up from behind one of the shields as the captain tried to pull him back down.

  “What are you doing, you fool? Get down!”

  “Don’t worry, Captain, I know what I am doing,” Azerick said with more confidence than he felt.

  He wanted to wait, but Azerick knew they were grossly outnumbered, and hesitating would only result in more of his crew’s death.

  Several crossbow bolts flew at the offered target, but they dropped harmlessly to the deck as they struck Azerick’s magical barrier. Captain Zeb and the nearby Balor looked on in shock at what should have been a very dead young man. Their faces shifted to downright awe as Azerick raked a bolt of lightning across the deck of the nearest pirate ship.

  The brilliant azure bolts tore into the pirates, scattering those nearby and setting fire to spare sailcloth and wooden crates. He then launched a barrage of arcane bolts and sent two more pirates falling heavily to the deck and the rest diving for cover. The crew of the Sea Star quickly snapped out of their astonishment, took advantage of the pandemonium on board the other ship, and fired their crossbows, scorpios, and catapult once again.

  “Swing that cat towards the second ship and keep them on their toes!” Captain Zeb instructed while the rest of his crew kept firing at the spell-stricken pirate ship.

  Azerick let loose with another round of magical darts followed by a second bolt of lightning. The second lightning bolt cracked the forward mast and set it aflame. As it burned, the weakened wood split, toppled to the deck, ignited several more fires, and trapped and crushed several of the milling pirates below in a tangle of ropes and sailcloth. Azerick and most of the crew turned their attention to the second ship that was now close enough that it started to hurl grappling lines in an attempt to try to board the Sea Star and overwhelm her crew.

  The young sorcerer released another eye-searing bolt, possibly his last given his fatiguing body, at the pirate vessel to great effect. Most of the pirates had been crowding the rails, ready to swing over on ropes and run across boarding planks as soon as they were able to draw the two ships together. Over a dozen pirates fell to the powerful blast, but Azerick refused to give them even a moment of respite.

  He sent a barrage of fiery bolts into the faces of three pirates, immediately followed by a lancing strike that speared through one pirate and killed a second one behind him.

  The sailors aboard the Sea Star shot their crossbows at nearly pointblank range into the massed pirates as Azerick sent a gout of fire similar to the one that Rusty had used during his duel with Travis. Between the crossbow bolts, the devastating magical assault, and the burning wreck of the first pirate ship, the pirates of the second ship quickly lost their nerve. They threw down their weapons and begged for mercy from their would-be victims.

  “Take their weapons and set them in longboats. See that they have fresh water and a bit of food. If they run out, they can damn well eat each other. You other men, put out that fire over there before we lose our prize,” the captain ordered seeing a pile of tar-cured hemp rope burning near the mast, a victim of one of Azerick’s spells.

  Captain Zeb approached their young savior as the sailors ran about following the captain’s orders, a few pausing long enough to give Azerick a clap on the back.

  “That was quite a bit of work you did there, son. You have any other secrets I should know about?”

  “None that I think you need to know of, Captain. Nothing like this to be sure,” the exhausted young sorcerer replied.

  “I never would have taken the son of Captain Giles as a wizard. Is there anything you need, lad?”

  “Sorcerer, and yes, a nap. I am completely spent. Oh, and food. I am starving. Casting spells works up a mean appetite.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, lad. Go lay yourself out in my cabin. I’ll have the cook make you something and have it brought to you.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Azerick said as he shuffled off to the captain’s bed, so weary that even the gentle swaying of the ship threatened to knock him from his feet.

  “It’s us who owes you thanks, lad. We owe you our lives.”

  Azerick did not reply to the praise as he made his way to the offered luxury of Zeb’s cabin. He let out a sigh of relief as his back sunk into the surprisingly soft and comfortable bed.

  The noise of someone entering the room stirred him to full alertness from a semi-slumber after an indeterminate amount of time. Captain Zeb brought in a tray laden with a slab of roast beef, mushroom gravy, warm bread, steamed carrots, and a mug of ale. Azerick sat up straight as his nose caught the scent of the delicious food.

  “Here you are, lad. Cook went all out on this. I hope you enjoy it, you earned it,” Captain Zeb said as he set the tray down on a table bolted to the floor in the center of the room.

  “How is the crew doing?” Azerick asked as he pulled up a seat and dug into the proffered meal.

  “We lost four men, nine more were wounded, but
only three will be staying below decks for more than a couple days. It’s not just the injuries you are thinking of though, is it?” the Captain inquired, reading the hidden question written on Azerick’s face.

  “No, sir. I am glad to know we didn’t lose more, but how are they taking everything else—what I did?”

  “Most everyone knows you saved their hides. There are always a few that are a bit more ignorant and superstitious than others, and they’re apt to say stupid things. But I wouldn’t worry myself. The others stamped out any negative words anyone felt they needed to say about you, and I told everyone that if they didn’t like sailing with you then I could drop em off with the pirates in their longboats. There was only a couple hardheads and I put them on the boat we salvaged.”

  “So the other ship is still seaworthy then? That’s good.”

  “I got men repairing the rigging and we’ll be back underway in a couple hours. You know your father was going to make me captain of the Storm Runner before everything happened. I never thought his boy would be the one to end up giving me my own ship,” the captain said as he threw Azerick a smile.

  “You sailed with my father. Were you with him the day they took him?”

  Aye, that I was. I was his first mate on the Storm Runner on that last voyage. We had left Lazuul and headed back for Southport when we were waylaid by pirates. Your father had us dump a few barrels of demon fire over the side. As soon as the pirate ship ran into the slick, we set it alight and burned it to cinders.”

  “Like father like son,” Azerick commented under his breath.

  “Your father’s quick thinking saved us all that day. I owe him my life, as does every sailor that sailed with him on that voyage. He was a good man and a damn fine ship’s captain. None of us knew that he had been taken until they started hauling in the rest of us. He never told us anything about taking on any other cargo neither. I thought that he had rushed home to you and your mother. It was all he talked about the entire trip back. He said he wanted to spend some time, a couple years maybe, with his family, have another child, and offered me the helm of Storm Runner.”

  Captain Zeb paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “The rest of us were brought in about a week after we arrived in port. It was then that we found out that they hauled in your father and killed in his cell a few days later. The Duke’s men managed to round up most of the crew. Only a few had caught a berth on another ship before they ran the rest of us down.

  “They started askin’ about your father and artifacts. I told them what I knew, that your father was a good, honest, loyal man and I didn’t know anything about any artifacts or illegal goods on the ship. I guess that wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear, so they asked us a bit more firmly if you know what I mean. For weeks, they whipped us, beat us, broke bones, cut our flesh, kept us awake, and starved us. A couple men died in that prison, but they eventually let us go when it became obvious that none of us knew anything.”

  Captain Zeb took another deep, shuddering breath. “When they let us go, we all caught the first ships out of Southport. Me and most of the boys got on ships going to North Haven and signed on with a shipping merchant up there. It’s a bit colder, but the work is good. When we make a run to Southport, those of us that were questioned try not to even get off the boat, and when we do, we never leave the docks. I should have thought about you and your mother, but we were all so scared we ran as far and fast as we could. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you, son, but you’re here now and going to North Haven. You have a friend up there, and I’ll do anything I can to help you. You are more than welcome to sail on any ship I’m in charge of. You make one hell of a pirate weapon, but something tells me being a sailor isn’t in your plans.”

  Azerick shook his head as he looked past Zeb’s shoulder, not focusing on anything in the room. “No, Captain, I appreciate the offer and I will certainly take you up on your hospitality, at least until I get myself settled, but I have a different path to follow.”

  “I figured as much. Well, let me leave you to your supper and rest.” With that said, Zeb left him alone and headed deckside.

  Azerick finished his supper and immediately fell asleep for what seemed like days. When he woke, there was a platter of bread, cheese, and smoked meat on the table as well as a pitcher of water. He quickly finished the simple meal and headed up on deck, eager to stretch his legs and get some fresh air.

  Several of the sailors greeted him warmly and knuckled a salute as he passed. He returned their greetings, glad that none seemed too upset or nervous over his display of spell craft.

  “Hey, Azerick,” Balor called out to him, “nice to see you back up with us working folk!”

  “You know me, always sleeping on the job,” Azerick called back in reply to the jest.

  He found the captain at the wheel and approached him. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About fourteen hours. It’s midmorning right now, and we’ve been under full sail for about eight hours,” Zeb replied.

  “How’s the sailing been while I’ve been out?”

  “It’s been real smooth. We have a good wind at our backs and a clear sky over our heads.”

  “I guess I better get back to work then and return your cabin to you. Thanks for the soft bed. I needed it.”

  “It’s the least I could do. I want you well rested in case we run into any more pirates!” Zeb said with a good belly laugh.

  Azerick put himself back to more mundane use scrubbing decks, mending sails, tarring cracks in the hull, and just about any other task better suited to the only the greenest of crewmembers. Whatever Azerick’s part was in saving them all from pirates, ship’s rules and duties trumped just about everything, even the heroics of young sorcerer’s.

  Azerick was up in the rigging several days after the attack tightening a few lines when dark clouds rolled in far faster than could possibly be natural. He quickly shinnied down the lines and ran across the deck to the wheelhouse.

  “Captain, those clouds coming in,” he started to say.

  “I see em, lad, and I don’t like the looks of em one bit,” the captain said, beating him to the punch.

  “It’s not just the looks, Captain. I don’t like the way they feel.”

  “Feel—like in a wizard kind of way?” Zeb asked, the color draining from his face.

  “Yeah, I don’t think they are natural at all.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you, boy, but real or not we’re going to have to ride em out unless you got a trick up your sleeve to deal with a storm.”

  Azerick just shook his head and went back to the main deck. The wind started blowing hard and the ocean’s swells began undulating up and down in huge, rolling waves. The relatively smooth, blue sea became a roiling mass of menacing grey swells almost without warning.

  “Lower the mainsails! This is going to be a hard blow, boys!” the Captain ordered.

  Azerick and the other sailors raced to lower the mainsails, batten down the cargo and crew hatches, and secure any loose items on the deck. The men in the crow’s nest came down and sailors went below or tied themselves in so the waves that began breaking over the gunwale did not sweep them out to sea. The wind raged with a fierceness Azerick had never experienced before. Fat, heavy rain began pouring down out of the black sky onto the deck with a force that stung as if he were caught in a swarm of angry bees.

  Massive swells slammed into the side of the ship until Captain Zeb was able to point the bow into them and ride up and over them. Shifting swells still hammered them as they crashed over the gunwale and bow. Breaking waves swept men from their feet and washed them across the deck. The force of the water and winds swept the unlucky ones clean over the side who then had to be hauled back up by their safety line.

  Zeb ordered all but a few essential hands below decks. Azerick rode out the storm down in hold with the majority of the crew until it was his turn to switch out with the men topside to give them a much-needed rest from fighting t
he massive waves and wind.

  Azerick could not believe his eyes when he climbed out onto the deck and clipped on his safety line. Waves and swells twice the height of the deck rolled under and around them. The ship creaked ominously every time it was forced to climb over one the gigantic swells or was bashed in the side by a large wave. He was certain they were all going to die, and that the merciless ocean in all its vast power would smash their seemingly tiny and fragile ship to splinters.

  All afternoon and night and late into the next day, waves swamped and battered their ship. The wind howled through the rigging and tore the small, triangular lateen sails to shreds where they whipped in the wind like a soldier signaling his surrender. Men below decks kept a wary eye out for damage to the hull from the inside. They erected several braces to keep the power of the waves and the twisting of the ship from breaching its wooden walls. They made patches with thick tar and canvas fibers to try to stop, or at least slow, the leaks that sprang between the abused planking of the ship’s hull. Several sailors took turns cranking the arms of the bilge pumps to force out the water that found its way into the ship.

  Through his exhaustion, Azerick thought that he finally felt a slowing to the rhythm of the huge swells. He concentrated on the rolling of the ship and the sound of the wind above and could detect a definite easing in both. Over the next hour, the storm above blew out and the ship slowly began to settle into the gentler rolling gait to which he was more accustomed.

  He and the rest of the sailors climbed out of the hold for a much-needed breath of fresh air. A storm as powerful as that could upset the stomach of even the most hardened veteran sailor. The clouds were breaking up and Azerick could see patches of blue between the fluffy, floating mists. The sea had calmed considerably and men started to take up their work without prompting. One sailor climbed up to the crow’s nest as others began repairing rope and hauling out the heavy canvas mainsails. Azerick looked around, but he was unable to see the captured ship anywhere. He hoped they had been able to ride out the massive storm as his ship had, but he knew there was little hope for the smaller vessel.