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

by Brock Deskins

  “Finally, the leader of the pirate band ascended the stairs himself and challenged the lord to single combat, promising that if he won that the pirates would leave him and his family alone for now. The lord accepted and, even though he was exhausted from defending the door to where his family hid, the pirate captain knew that while this man fought for the lives of his family he could best him in a fair fight. So the pirate captain maneuvered the lord so that his back was to the stairs and, on his signal, one of the pirates threw a dagger at the lord’s back. The blade struck him low in the back and pierced his armor and flesh. The lord stumbled from the injury and the pirate captain ran him through the heart, killing him instantly.

  “The pirates broke the door down and gained entry to the room where the lord’s wife and children huddled in the corner begging for mercy. The pirate captain was so furious at the number of men the lord had killed, and who had very nearly defeated him as well, that he ordered the children thrown from the top of the tower. One by one, the Lady of the keep was forced to watch her children thrown from the balcony, their cries echoing all the way down until they abruptly ceased when they struck the courtyard. The pirate captain then forced the Lady to the same spot where his men had thrown her children to their deaths and offered her a chance at life. The Lady was still a very beautiful woman, and the pirate captain promised her that she would live in comfort for the rest of her life if she agreed to be his.

  “When she suddenly stopped wailing and smiled, he thought that the Lady was going to agree, but her smile turned into a hideous, manic laughter. She dug her fingers deep into the pirate’s flesh with inhuman strength and pulled them both over the edge, cursing him all the way down. It was after that time that my great grandfather tried to claim the keep and build North Haven into what it is today, but the Lady still haunted the tower. Ever since, any living person that dares to go near the tower is killed, driven mad, or forced to flee in terror. So my great grandfather built a new keep that eventually became the castle of North Haven.”

  “Interesting,” Azerick mused.

  Miranda looked incredulously at the sorcerer. “Interesting? I tell you a horrific tale of murder, deceit, and eternal haunting and all you can say is interesting? I would hate to see what you would actually find terrible.”

  “That you certainly would,” Azerick replied cryptically. “You seem to know an awful lot of detail of the event.”

  Miranda smiled at the wizard’s skepticism. “The pirates loved to talk. The story was recounted many times in inns, bars, and on ships for years. I’ll admit, the bards and scribes that took up the tale likely romanticized it, but the outcome is the same. Pirates stormed the keep, murdered the Lord, Lady, and children, and she haunts the tower and its grounds to this day.”

  “Interesting,” Azerick repeated with a smile.

  As they drew near the gates of North Haven, a large contingent of armored men was riding out. They were soon spotted by the approaching force and several of the lead riders put their spurs to their horses and brought them galloping up the road. The riders brought their thundering mounts to a halt a few paces away and gave a sharp salute to Captain Brague and Lady Miranda.

  “Captain, Lady Miranda, thank the gods you have arrived! The Duchess just sent us out to find you when your carriage did not arrive yesterday. What happened to your coach and the rest of your guards?” the soldier asked the Captain.

  “We were waylaid by bandits just three days north of Southport. The coach was ruined and, though we slew or drove off the villains, we were the only ones to make it,” Captain Brague told his subordinate.

  Lady Miranda saw the sergeant cast a glance at Azerick and spoke up for him. “This is Magus Azerick. It is because of him that any of us survived the attack.”

  Azerick could hear Captain Brague grind his teeth as the sergeant replied, “Then we all owe you an enormous debt, My Lord Magus. I am certain that Her Grace will wish to see you all as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, Sergeant,” Miranda responded, “lead us home, if you would be so kind.”

  The other mounted soldiers had caught up to them by now and parted to let the distinguished party take the lead as they followed behind. Captain Brague and the sergeant headed the vanguard as they passed through the heavy gates and into the city of North Haven.

  The castle was spectacular with four large towers and numerous minarets all topped with blue clay tiles. Nearly everyone on the street waved joyously to Lady Miranda and her passing party with many more rushing out of homes and businesses to welcome her return.

  As much as Azerick disliked attention, he found the spectacle heartwarming and allowed himself to believe that he may finally be able to call somewhere home. First, he needed to secure an actual home, and he already had a plan for that. He just hoped that what he had planned would work. If it did not, it might just kill him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Lord Beaumont paced restlessly across the carpeted floor of his study like a caged animal. He was expecting someone, but it was already after midnight and the longer he waited the more restless he became. He became weary of his own constant pacing so he sat down and poured himself another glass of amber liquor. Lord Beaumont brought the glass to his lips and nearly spilled its entire contents down the front of his silk smoking jacket when a voice suddenly spoke from behind him.

  “You requested my services,” said a soft voice just over his left shoulder.

  Liquor sloshed onto his chest as he bolted up out of his seat and spun around to face the intruder.

  “Who are you?” he gasped at the dark-garbed, hooded figure standing barely an arm’s length behind the chair he had just forcefully vacated.

  “You know precisely who I am. You sent for me. Now gain control of yourself so that we may conclude our business transaction without wasting any more of my precious time with stupid and pointless questions,” the Rook insisted.

  Lord Beaumont tried to regain his composure but the ice-blue eyes that practically glowed beneath the expanse of darkness inside the cloak’s hood unnerved him.

  “How did you get in here past my guards?” the nervous lord stammered.

  The Rook sighed as if he were forced to explain a most rudimentary of concepts to an imbecile. “If I could not get past your pathetic guards unchallenged then I would hardly be worth the exorbitant sum that you are going to pay me.”

  “Ah yes, of course not. Very well then, let us get down to business,” Lord Beaumont agreed, speaking far more calmly than he felt.

  For all of his bluster and arrogance, Lord Beaumont had never actually hired an assassin or had any dealings with the criminal element beyond the typical tax evasion and trading of illegal goods. If the assassin standing before him now was typical of his kind, he never would again. It was like standing in the same room with the goddess of death herself.

  “I wish to hire you to kill somebody.”

  “That would be obvious. Had you sent for me for anything less I would have been greatly disappointed, and much like having my time wasted, I do detest being disappointed.”

  Lord Beaumont swallowed hard as he imagined what happened to those who disappointed this man, if a man was what he really was. “My son was murdered and I want his murderer to face justice.”

  Lord Beaumont retreated as the Rook unexpectedly stepped towards him. “I am not a constable or watchman to administer justice. I kill people, and not just anyone. There are lesser assassins about that will perform that task for a fraction of what I charge. You had best pray that you have not wasted my time coming here.”

  “My son was killed by another wizard while attending The Academy two years ago,” Lord Beaumont hastily explained. “For two years I have paid various men to find out where his murderer has been hiding, but to no avail. I want him found and I want him dead no matter the cost!”

  “Your son’s killer was a teacher?”

  “No, another student, but do not underestimate him. He is exceedingly clever, or so I am told
. When he killed my son there were pieces of him scattered about for yards in every direction. I do not think we ever found all of him,” Lord Beaumont croaked out as his throat tightened up on him.

  “Very well, I will find this wizardling for you and kill him. You have my fee?”

  “Of course, it is right here.”

  Lord Beaumont crossed the room and pulled a carved wooden box the size of a small loaf of bread from a wall safe hidden behind a portrait. The small chest’s contents gave off a metallic clink as he handed the small fortune over to the assassin.

  The Rook took the chest and started to walk backwards towards a shadowy corner of the room when all of the oil lamps suddenly flickered as if being assaulted by a strong wind. The room was cast in harsh, wavering light and dancing shadows for only a moment before the lamps once again burned brightly. In that half second of wavering, flickering light, the Rook had disappeared.

  Lord Beaumont cast a glance around the room, but as far as he could tell, he was once again alone. The lord wondered if he had just made a deal with a demon and prayed that it would not cost him more than the gold he had just handed over.

  One thing was for certain, he would have to move his study into another room. The Rook had left such a powerful presence that never again would he feel safe or alone in this room. He knew his fears were ridiculous. There was no room in the entire kingdom that a person could be safe in if the Rook wanted them dead.

  *******

  Azerick followed Lady Miranda and Captain Brague down the marbled halls of castle North Haven. The ringing of the Captain’s boot heels was the only thing that broke the tranquility of the place as they stopped before a pair of ornate double doors guarded by a pair of pikemen in brilliantly gleaming full plate armor.

  The two sentries came to attention and opened the doors wide to permit the trio into the room beyond without challenge. A waiting room for those who sought an audience with Her Grace lay between them and the throne room with another set of double doors replete with halberdiers. Felt-covered benches sat against the two walls between large planters from which small bushes and plants grew and filled the room with the fragrance of their blooms.

  The party was not required to wait of course, and the guardsmen swung open the doors to permit the privileged group access to Lady Mellina without hesitation.

  Azerick tried to conceal the look of awe on his face as he entered the vast hall. Blue marble sheathed the walls, multiple glass skylights let in the afternoon sun, while magnificent tapestries, brilliantly polished swords and shields, and masterwork paintings adorned the walls. A long, emerald green carpet accented with gold trim ran from the door to the very steps of the dais upon which sat the thrones.

  Azerick stifled a gasp as he espied the woman sitting in the right hand seat of power atop a seven-stepped dais. The woman was beautiful just like her daughter, but there the similarity ended. Her hair was black and straight, as Miranda’s was a deep auburn and wavy. Miranda’s face was open, kind, and affable where her mother’s was stern, strictly composed, and shrewd. Azerick could tell that this was a woman who commanded respect through sheer presence alone.

  As they approached the foot of the marble steps below the thrones, Captain Brague took a knee and knelt with his head bowed while Miranda bounded up the steps and wrapped her arms around her mother.

  For a moment, Azerick thought that the frigid woman would not break decorum to return her daughter’s display of affection in front of guests but, after a moment’s hesitation, she embraced her only child. For just a second, Azerick saw the motherly adoration the woman hid behind the steely mask of propriety. Miranda whispered something into her mother’s ear while casting a glance back to where Azerick and Captain Brague waited to be addressed.

  Captain Brague turned his head up to look at Azerick and shot him a fierce glare indicating that he should kneel before Her Grace, but Azerick refused to take the hint and simply bent at the waist as Lady Mellina made eye contact with him.

  The duchess extracted herself from her daughter’s embrace and sat back down upon her throne. “Captain Brague, it has come to my understanding that you and your men ran into some trouble on the way back from Southport.”

  The captain swallowed with difficulty before answering. “Yes, Your Grace. Approximately three days ride to the south, bandits set upon us. We were surprised, the coach was immediately disabled, and we were vastly outnumbered. Several of my men fell to crossbows before we were even able to engage. The rest gave their lives to my Lady’s defense.”

  “I mourn the loss of your men and my loyal citizens, and they will each be hailed as heroes. Submit their names to my seneschal so that we may compensate their families for their loss and pass on their medals of valor. Please take your place,” the Duchess commanded.

  She turned her falcon-like gaze towards Azerick once more. “I understand it is you whom I have to thank for my daughter and captain’s timely rescue. Had it not been for you, my loyal captain would also have given his life in my daughter’s defense, and she would likely be strapped down to the back of a horse riding to some filthy bandit camp where she would stay until I met with the cowardly scum’s ransom demand. Is that about the truth of it, Magus Azerick?”

  Before he could answer, Captain Brague interrupted. “Your Grace, you should know that this man did not intervene until the bandits threatened him. Had he acted sooner, more of my men would likely be alive, and had the bandits not made the critical error of attacking him, the results would have been precisely as you just stated.”

  “You are certain of this, Captain?” Lady Mellina asked coldly.

  “Yes, Your Grace. He sat upon his horse watching the disaster unfold before his very eyes. It was not until the bandit leader told his men to kill him that he got off his horse and used his sorceries to slay several of the bandits attacking us,” Captain Brague informed the Duchess, his voice heavily laced with scorn.

  “You say he was mounted some distance away from the attack then dismounted when he heard the bandit’s order to kill him. Am I correct?”

  “That is precisely how it happened, Your Grace. The man is an opportunist at best, and a coward at the least,” the Captain replied smugly, flashing Azerick a condescending sneer of disdain and triumph.

  “Were any of the bandits mounted?”

  “No, Your Grace. They burst out from the tree line on foot.”

  Duchess Mellina crooked one well-manicured eyebrow at her captain. “So this man, an accused coward, got off his horse to fight a large group of bandits afoot instead of simply wheeling his mount about and fleeing the battle. Is my understanding correct, Captain?”

  Captain Brague hummed and hawed for a moment, but he quickly realized where the Duchess was going with this line of questioning and knew that he had been cornered. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Captain Brague, you are a loyal and valuable member of my domain.” The soldier stood straighter, if at all possible, under his Lady’s praise. “However, diminishing the accomplishments or heroics of another is unseemly and ill becomes you. Men often require leadership and encouragement to act with honor and courage. If they did not, we would have little requirement for outstanding leaders like yourself. You should be grateful to the magus, for he has not only saved our beloved Lady Miranda, but also given you the opportunity to continue to serve us. I hope you take advantage of this opportunity he has provided you to learn and grow.”

  Captain Brague fumed and wilted under his Lady’s admonishments, but he still managed to force out a reply. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Magus Azerick, despite the splendor you see about you, we are not a wealthy city, but anything I am able to give you as a reward for the safe return of my daughter is yours for the asking.”

  “Your Grace, I left Southport for North Haven some time ago in search of a new home. Even though events beyond my control delayed my arrival by some time, it would seem that such delays, though accidental, was fortunate or perhaps even destined to occur,
” Azerick submitted. “I saw the ruined keep upon the hill a few miles from the city. I would be most grateful if you would grant me ownership of it and its accompanying land.”

  Lady Miranda gasped at the request and even her mother’s impeccable calm cracked briefly at the request. Captain Brague looked surprised for a moment then smiled to himself hoping that maybe the upstart sorcerer would be killed, or at least driven off by the very real ghosts that haunted the place.

  The Duchess quickly composed herself and addressed Azerick’s request. “Magus, I promised to reward you with anything that was in my power to give, and I will honor that pledge, but I would ask you to reconsider your request. There are several fine homes and manors within the city, of which I would gladly give you your pick. They are magnificent dwellings in the wealthiest part of the city.”

  “That is very gracious of you, Your Grace, but it is the keep that I wish to possess,” Azerick stated adamantly.

  “Are you aware of the keep’s history?” Duchess Mellina asked.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “The tales of the haunting and lives lost are quite real and are not some fictitious folklore of superstitious commoners. The lucky ones who have braved the ruins of the keep returned half mad, and many did not return at all,” the Duchess informed him ominously.

  “I am aware of that, Your Grace, but that is still my request,” Azerick replied assuredly.

  The Duchess allowed a small frown to show on her stoic face. “Very well, Magus. I will have my seneschal draw up the title. May Solarian bless you and watch over you.”

  Azerick bowed at the waist once more as the Duchess stood and departed the chamber through a smaller door hidden behind the thick folds of a curtain to the rear of the dais. Lady Miranda glided gracefully down the steps and slipped an arm through Azerick’s before he had time to react.