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

by Brock Deskins

  “Can we outrun them?”

  “For a time. They do not seem that fast, but they are tireless. I think the gnomes will be content to let the elementals hound us until we exhaust ourselves, and then sweep in when we are at our weakest,” the sorcerer’s answer fatalistically.

  “Do you have a plan?” Zeb asked.

  “Not at the moment. Just keep moving and hope something presents itself,” he replied.

  They increased their pace now that Azerick and Toron had caught back up to them for as long as they could, but fatigue and their own wounded men soon forced them to slow down. Azerick made his way to the rear of the column to check on the rearguard and to see if their enemies were catching up to them.

  “Where is Toron,” Azerick asked Balor when he failed to see the minotaur.

  “He keeps stopping whenever the tunnel gets narrower. Doesn’t say why, just tells us not to worry about him and to keep going,” Balor replied.

  Azerick started to head down the tunnel after Toron when he heard footsteps and heavy breathing coming at him. Azerick readied a spell but let the energy dissipate when he saw the dark shape of the asymmetrical horns on top the large shadowy figure. Toron grinned brightly when he saw Azerick standing in the circle of light that his enchanted stone threw off.

  “Toron, what are you doing back here?”

  The grey muzzle grinned even wider. “Slowing those giant dirt clods down a bit to buy you all more time,” his glib reply came. “Whenever the tunnel narrows enough that I know it will allow only one of those creatures through and restrict its movement, I wait and chip off a few more chunks of it. I left one of them crawling on the ground after I took its leg off. Same one that lost its arm to my axe earlier in fact. I think we can call that one out of the fight unless that gnome can put it back together.”

  Azerick saw Toron try to stifle a gasp of pain when he breathed in. “Are you injured?”

  “The downed creature’s friend wasn’t too happy and paid me back a bit is all. Caught me squarely in the ribs. I’ve lived through worse,” he assured the sorcerer.

  Azerick wondered how old he had been when he had received those wounds but pushed the thought out of his head. “How much time do you think you have bought us?”

  “We were gaining ground on them for a while and I managed to increase that lead with my harrying, but we’ve been slowing down for a while now. I would say we are only slightly farther ahead of them than we were when we first fought them. I give us an hour at best if we do not slow down any further.”

  Azerick doubted the group’s ability to maintain even this somewhat sedate pace for much longer. If something did not present itself soon to give them some sort of relief, they were in serious trouble.

  “Save your energy for a last stand. Your axe will serve us a lot better in a concerted fight than your slowing actions are likely to bring us at this point,” Azerick advised.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Toron sighed as he ran a thumb over the notched and blunted edge of his axe.

  “If we get out of this we all owe you our lives, Toron. I’m glad you came with us,” Azerick told the minotaur sincerely.

  “It is I who owe you for giving me the chance to live and die like a true warrior. I thought I was going to die a feeble old man,” he said resolutely.

  “You may yet still get the chance,” Azerick replied.

  Toron glared down at the sorcerer. “That’s a hell of a thing to say!”

  Azerick threw the old minotaur a wink, clapped him on his broad, hairy shoulder, and ran back to the front of the group.

  “Any changes up here, Zeb?”

  “It looks like we’re coming up to another large chamber. Just pray that nobody is waiting for us inside.”

  Azerick and the men looked around intently as they entered the large chamber, but they saw no sign of ambush. Several tunnels branched off from the large, domed chamber. Their magical lights were just able to illuminate the tips of the stalactites that clung to the ceiling that was lost in inky blackness. Stalagmites jutted up from floor in a parody of Azerick’s stone spike spell. Some were over ten feet tall with a base that would take three men linking arms to surround it. The humans quickly scouted the room and found that four new tunnels presented them with a decision to make.

  “Which way do you think, lad?” Zeb asked him.

  “I don’t know, Zeb. I just don’t know. Damn it all!” Azerick swore in frustration and knuckled his forehead, thumping it rhythmically trying to induce it to produce an answer.

  Whether it was luck, divine intervention, or just thumping his head to jar his brain into action, he had an inspiration. He held out his hand and produced a small flame. It hovered just above his palm, flickering like a tiny willow wisp.

  Zeb hushed and held back his men as Azerick strode about the wall of the chamber, pausing in front of each tunnel. After he had made nearly a complete circuit, he returned to the second tunnel on the left from the one they had entered.

  The tiny flame began to flicker and dance upon the sorcerer’s outstretched hand. “This one, Zeb. There is a breeze coming from this passageway. Get everyone moving, quickly.”

  “You heard him, folks! let’s get a move on,” Zeb called back towards the people trying to catch their breath.

  Azerick paused by the tunnel entrance and made sure no one was left behind, particularly Toron. The old minotaur flashed him a grin as he brought up the rear guard. Satisfied that all were accounted for, he jogged back up to the front of the troop column. The group came to a sudden halt as they found the source of the breeze that wafted through the tunnel. It was not a surface exit as Azerick had hoped, but a massive chasm, its depth and width lost in darkness.

  “This doesn’t look good, son,” Zeb remarked with concern.

  “Hand me a crossbow bolt,” Azerick commanded.

  One of the sailors plucked a quarrel from a short quiver at his hip and handed it over. Azerick chanted a word of magic and the bolt lit up with the same bright light as the stones he had made.

  “Fire it across the gulch, try to hit the far wall near the same level we are at,” he told the sailor as he returned the bolt.

  “If there is a far wall,” the sailor muttered.

  The man made a guess as to the distance and fired his crossbow. The magical, makeshift flare sped across the dark expanse before clattering against the stone side about fifteen feet up from their position on the far side. The illuminating bolt looked little more than a bright star surrounded by an expanse of darkness when it finally came to a rest at the bottom of the chasm.

  “Did you all see the tunnel on the other side?” Azerick asked the men that stood around him. Several of them affirmed that they had. “All of you give me a bolt, but do not take your eyes off where you saw the tunnel.”

  Azerick repeated his spell over the half dozen quarrels then returned them to the men that held the crossbows. “Try to get your bolts to land inside the cave on the other side. One of you shoot first to get a second look, then the rest of you aim for the cave.”

  They all raised their crossbows and waited for the lead man to fire. The single bolt sped away across the dark expanse like a shooting star. It struck surprisingly near the entrance, just a few feet above it. The twang of the crossbows hurling their projectiles echoed through the cavern the moment the first one revealed the cave entrance. Three of them struck just on the outside of the distant cave and joined the previous two at the bottom of the deep gulch, but two made it inside and illuminated the passage.

  “Good shot, men,” Azerick said, congratulating the men on their marksmanship.

  “Shoot, weren’t nothin’. Try it from the top of a rocking ship’s mast at sea,” one of the grizzled sailors replied.

  “Stand back, everyone,” Azerick instructed as he began another enchantment.

  Azerick deftly wove a spell and the air began to shimmer before him. Light suddenly appeared in thin line as if someone had just taken a knife and made a lo
ng cut in the air revealing the outside sunlight. The thread of light widened until it was six feet wide and eight feet tall. Through the magical doorway, the men could see the cave with the illuminated crossbow bolts lying on the ground but it now looked only a few feet away.

  “Zeb, get everyone through quickly. I don’t think we have very much time.”

  Azerick slapped his head in rebuke as the rest of the party ran through the portal. “I am such an idiot!” Azerick shouted at himself as he pulled a scroll tube out of his pack and began shuffling through the pages.

  “What’s the matter, boy? Why are smacking yourself about?” Zeb asked.

  “I have a veritable treasure trove of magical spells at my fingertips and I completely forgot about them!” he snarled as he set a couple of the scrolls aside before rolling up the rest and dropping them into the leather tube.

  “Everyone else is through, little wizard. Time to go,” Toron rumbled.

  “Not just yet. They may know a way past this. I want to convince them that it is not worth their effort or lives,” Azerick said darkly.

  “Whatever you are going to do make it quick, lad,” Zeb cautioned.

  “I will wait here and guard you,” Toron insisted.

  Azerick was going to argue but the look in the minotaur’s eyes made it obvious that it was a statement and not a request. He jogged down the tunnel with Toron close on his heels. A minute later he stopped, handed Toron his light stone, and unrolled one of the scrolls. He read the spidery runes of magic, each one flaring out of existing with a tiny flash of flame as soon as he read them aloud. When he came to the end of the scroll and the last rune flared out of existence Azerick let the charred velum drop to the ground.

  “I do not see any effect,” stated Toron.

  “Not yet, but the gnomes will. Let’s go. We are not done yet.”

  The pair ran back up the tunnel towards the magical doorway and stopped about halfway back. Azerick unrolled the second scroll and cast the spell it contained with similar invisible effects.

  “That takes care of that. I’ll follow you through the doorway,” Azerick told Toron.

  “I do not care much for a wizard’s chicanery. I hope you appreciate the level of trust I show you by stepping through such a thing.”

  “Your trust in me is greatly appreciated. Now get your big, hairy butt through the portal.”

  Azerick dropped his light stone before he followed Toron through. The magical gate snapped shut as soon as Azerick stepped through the doorway. He walked to the ledge and cast his gate spell on the far side of the chasm. The portal’s exit he placed several feet away from the distant wall over a hundred feet above the chasm floor. There he unrolled a third scroll and prepared his last surprise and waited for the enemy’s arrival.

  The two earth elementals lumbered into the rune field that Azerick had cast from the first scroll with the gnomes following close behind them. The elementals strode through the field without triggering the magical traps, their stone forms lacking the flesh and blood that the spell required to trigger its effect. The unfortunate cavern gnomes had no such protection.

  Several gnomes made it nearly halfway across before the first trap erupted in a bright burst of energy, searing the flesh of the individual that stepped on it. Several more bursts followed as more of the gnomes marched into the trapped field.

  The elementals continued their pursuit of the fleeing humans, oblivious to the attacks on the gnomes. Less than a minute later, the lead elemental reached Azerick’s second trap. A sphere of pent up energy floated invisibly over the center of the passageway, waiting for anyone or anything to pass near it.

  As the first stone behemoth came within a few feet of it, it became visible and exploded. The force of the blast shattered the lead elemental’s entire upper torso. It took two more steps then fell forward and lay still. The remaining elemental lost its left hand and a web of cracks ran through its chest. The gnomes had wisely chosen not to follow quite so close behind their summoned creatures but flying bits of stone still caused several deep lacerations in those closest.

  The stone caller was furious at the destruction of another of his creatures and shouted in rage at the back of his remaining elemental. He was familiar with the chasm up ahead and he knew that the humans could not be far unless they could fly. He urged the earth elemental onward, desperate to destroy these interlopers once and for all.

  The stone caller saw a pale light up ahead and knew that the humans must be just around the bend. The remaining earth elemental rounded the corner, took three more steps, and unwittingly stepped through the dimensional gate, which instantly deposited it a hundred feet over the great black abyss of the chasm. It fell soundlessly until its hulking body shattered on the stones below.

  The spell expired just as the stone caller rounded the bend. He glared at the sorcerer who had somehow managed to get his people across the deep gorge.

  Azerick called across the chasm as more gnomes appeared on the other side. “I will tell you one more time. We have no interest in fighting you, or encroaching on your territory. We are merely refugees trying to get home, but we will defend ourselves. How many more of you are willing to sacrifice your lives in this pointless pursuit? Cut your losses and allow us to leave unmolested.”

  The stone caller was furious at the casualties he had suffered and the demands of this arrogant human wizard. “Human, I am named the earth caller. All around you is earth, and I am its master. You and your people are doomed. Your petty tricks are no match for the power of the earth!” he shouted and raised his gem once more.

  It seemed the entire world started shaking under Azerick’s feet as stones began falling from the cavern ceiling all around him.

  “You have made a very poor decision, earth caller,” Azerick yelled and read the last word that remained on the scroll he held in his hands.

  The instant that the remaining rune burned away from the paper, a massive fireball erupted behind the ranks of cavern gnomes standing on the far side of the gorge. The blast sent a dozen of the short figures hurling out over the black abyss as if flung from a catapult. Another dozen or more of the gnomes farther back perished under the intense heat of the fiery inferno. Those that were able raced back in the direction from which they came, deciding that these humans were not worth their lives.

  The earth shaking subsided when Azerick’s spell blasted the earth caller through the air, along with many of his kin, and dashed them upon the rocks below. Azerick turned from the needless destruction and walked back to his people.

  “I do not think they will be bothering us any longer,” Azerick told Zeb as he returned to the front of the group.

  “I would think not. Don’t let it get you down, son. Life is hard all by itself, but some people insist on making it harder than it needs to be. Don’t let it make you hard on yourself,” Zeb advised, seeing the despondent look on Azerick’s face.

  “You’re right, Zeb. I know. I am just getting so tired of all the death that seems to happen around me. Just once I would like to be an agent for good—for life.”

  The old captain scowled at the young man before him. “Look around you, boy! That is exactly what you are to these people! If it weren’t for you, they would be living and dying as slaves right now. They know you are good, and they know you have given them a chance at a real future. You have made good things happen, and you have the power and character to make a lot more good things happen for a lot of people. I see the greatness in you, lad, and so do they.”

  Azerick looked into the faces of the dirty, exhausted people around him. Several men nodded and the women smiled as he looked at them.

  “Thanks, Zeb, I’ll do my best to remember that,” Azerick said quietly. “Let’s find a place to rest a while. I’m beat.”

  The tattered and weary company plodded on for another hour before finding a suitably large yet defensible cavern in which to rest. Azerick channeled much of his remaining energy into a large stalagmite, heating it until it
glowed bright orange and started to crack under the intense heat. The spire put off enough heat to keep the group of humans warm for several hours as they rested. Toron woke him some time later. Azerick saw that most everyone was up and preparing to move once more.

  “Toron, I completely forgot about your injury. How are you doing?” Azerick asked the big minotaur.

  “I will survive, though it does pain me a small amount,” Toron replied.

  Azerick knew that for Toron to admit to any pain that it must be quite severe. “Let me take a look at it before we move out. I may be able to make a compress to dull the pain and quicken the healing.”

  “If you think it is necessary I will supplicate myself to your ministrations,” Toron acquiesced, secretly grateful for any help in relieving the discomfort, but only because it might hinder his fighting ability, his pride insisted.

  Azerick held a light up close and gently smoothed the coarse hair way from the wound to see it better. Even this gentle touch made the stout creature flinch. The damage was evident and Azerick was amazed that even a hardy creature like Toron was able to endure such injury without complaint for so long. An area the size of a small dinner plate was swollen and purple. He could feel the sharp edges of at least three fractured ribs that must have been grinding together and causing an extreme amount of pain.

  Azerick winced internally at the sight of the injury. “I need to bandage these ribs immediately. That should help keep them from moving about as much. I can also make a poultice to numb the tissue and take down the swelling.”

  Toron simply nodded as Azerick used the last of his water to make a paste out of some of the herbs he carried. He then tore several shirts, almost the last of the spare clothing that any of them possessed, into long strips. He applied the paste in a thick glob over the injury then wrapped the linen strips tightly over it and around the minotaur’s broad chest.

  Azerick paused tying off the bandage as his breath caught. He was reminded of the first time he had met Delinda after his first fight and how she had treated a similar injury of his. With great effort, Azerick pushed this memory down where he collected and stored the other traumatic experiences of his life. The young sorcerer still had a duty to perform. His mourning would have to wait a bit longer.