The Sorcerer's Legacy (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  The bishop shook his head again. “Our spies have reported nothing. The few correspondences they have seen have not even hinted at any attempt to recover the artifact. General Baneford has not been seen in Southport in several years so even if it were him seeking the pieces, Duke Ulric can easily deny any involvement. I imagine the General’s discharge papers were signed and placed on file long ago.”

  The King turned and addressed the other man in the room. “What of The Academy? Have any of the magi there been approached for aid in seeking out the armor?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” Magus Illifan replied.

  “Forgive my skepticism, Magus, but what kind of cooperation do you think I or one of my agents would get from The Academy, seeing as how it is under the thumb of the man most likely to oppose me?”

  Magus Illifan cleared his throat before answering. “The Academy maintains its neutrality despite its location. It is an institution for all of Valaria after all.”

  “As is the Church,” the Bishop chimed in.

  The king wheeled on the Bishop. “Speaking of the Church, some rather disturbing words have reached my ears.”

  “What words would those be, Your Highness?”

  “Tales of the dead rising and terrorizing my citizens, and if that weren’t bad enough, your church has been laying the blame at my feet! Explain that to me, Bishop.”

  The clergyman had the decency to look contrite before answering. “There are indeed dark tidings across the land, Your Majesty. The peasants are quick to place blame, largely following local superstitions.”

  “They are repeating the words of your priests! They are claiming that my heritage is the cause!”

  “The teachings of Solarian tell us that man is the blood of the world and if the blood of man is tainted so shall it taint the land. The king is the ultimate representative of the land. The priests may interpret Solarian’s words one way, while the peasants may interpret the same words or even the words of the priests, another.”

  “And what do you say, Bishop? What do you counsel your flock and priests regarding my blood?”

  “Your Majesty, I have been your faithful advisor since your coronation and your father’s for two decades before you,” Bishop Caalendor reminded his king.

  Jarvin sighed and nodded. “Forgive me. This is all most distressing. Please have your priests remind the people that I am born of a man and a woman just as they are and my father was the king before me. That is all the legitimacy I and the land require.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” the Bishop replied.

  “Tell me what the Church is doing to combat this undead issue and what can I do to assist?”

  “I have sent as many priests out as I can spare to consecrate the cemeteries. I have also sent out teams of Solarian’s Light to the most affected areas to lay any undead back to rest. Unfortunately, there are more burial sites than I have priests, and even fewer of Solarian’s Light, so it will take some time.”

  Jarvin nodded and turned to the magus. “Magus, can you petition The Academy to send wizards to help the Church put down any undead uprisings?”

  “I will certainly send the request but the ranks at the Academy are rather thin. The war with Sumara has devastated their ranks to the point it could take decades at the very least to recover a shadow of their former numbers.”

  “Do what you can and tell them that any help is greatly appreciated. It is bad enough I am plagued with usurpers, I don’t need my people living in fear of something like this as well.”

  ***

  Ellyssa sat under the piercing glare of her master. Azerick paced back and forth, putting his thoughts in order while his apprentice stewed miserably in her seat. When he had first taken her in, he thought he had a bright but shy little girl. That façade crumbled as she became comfortable with him and her new surroundings. She was certainly bright, but she was about as shy as a thunderstorm. Precocious did not begin to describe her character.

  Azerick stopped his pacing and faced his young pupil. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

  Ellyssa though for a moment then answered. “I mixed up the sigil for ice with fire,” she answered with a nervous grin.

  Azerick did not return her smile.

  “Try again,” he told her crossly.

  “I used magic without you being present.”

  “And.”

  “And I set a tree on fire,” she replied miserably.

  “And,” Azerick prompted again.

  “I made Wolf clean. But he needed it, he was filthy like always and he smelled bad and he teased me so he deserved it!” she spouted.

  Azerick shook his head. “No, but close. You let your temper rule your actions. You reacted out of anger, not out of need or with wisdom. Do you see that now?”

  “Yes, Master Azerick.”

  She only replied with his title when she knew he was cross with her and she was in trouble, otherwise neither one of them bothered with the honorific.

  “You are restricted to the tower for one week and you will write the ten fundamentals of wizardry twenty times, and you will do it on your own time, not during class,” Azerick informed her.

  Ellyssa’s face turned red. “I’m grounded for a week and I have to write the fundamentals? That’s not fair!”

  “Perhaps you are right,” Azerick agreed and thought about the punishment. “The punishment is a bit unbalanced considering the full potential for disaster. You will also help Grick catch rats for the next two weeks seeing as you have an overabundance of time and energy.”

  “Catch rats! I hate rats and who in the burning abyss is Grick?” she shouted.

  “Watch your language, young lady, or it will be a month and Grick is the goblin I hired earlier today to take care of our rat problem.”

  “I can’t believe you are going to make me hunt rats, and with a goblin. That is so gross.”

  Azerick glared down at his protégé. “It took every man I had working on the keep the rest of the day to put out the fire that you started. Would you like to go and talk to those men about what is fair?”

  Ellyssa shook her head.

  “Most of them advised me to take a strap to you. That is what they thought would be fair.”

  “Fine, I’ll hunt stupid rats with the stupid goblin, but if he eats me you’ll be sorry!”

  “Perhaps in time, but not right at this moment,” Azerick replied, eliciting a gasp of shock from his pupil.

  Azerick introduced Ellyssa to the rat catcher just after dinner. Ellyssa did not attempt to hide her disgust as she sat across the table from the goblin as they ate. Azerick explained that she was to follow Grick around for two hours each night for the next two weeks. Grick led the girl down the stairs and into the basement level.

  They stopped at the foot of the stairs where Grick handed her a lit oil lamp and a wooden rod about three feet long.

  “What’s the stick for?” Ellyssa asked brusquely.

  “It for whacking rats,” he said, giving the ground a good smack in demonstration.

  “Ew gross, I’m not going to hit a rat with a stick!” she complained loudly.

  “You rather stomp on rats, maybe ruin pretty shoes?” Grick asked.

  “Fine, I’ll use the stick but you better not try to eat me. I’m a wizard too you know,” she warned Grick.

  “Pfft, you no wizard, you little girl, read books, set tree on fire,” Grick replied, dismissing her threat.

  “How’d you know about the tree?” Ellyssa demanded to know.

  “People talk, Grick listen. Nobody pays attention to little goblins.”

  “You still better watch out. If I can set a tree on fire you bet I can set a goblin on fire too so you just better not try anything or else!”

  “I not eat rotten little girls. Too stringy and meat probably sour.”

  “I bet I taste better than a smelly little goblin!” she shouted defensively. “Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. What are goblins made out of, dead skunks
and gopher guts?”

  “Goblins made out of rotten little children who don’t behave. A woods fairy fly through window, make you sleep with magic, then bury you under rotten tree stump where you wake up as goblin,” Grick told her seriously.

  “Nuh-uh, you just made that up.”

  Grick shook his head. “No, it true. Why you think goblins live in holes in ground. Grick was little boy right here in North Haven. He never did chores or what parents told him and always talked back. One day, he throw horse dung at rich lady in white dress for fun. Grick run fast so no get caught, but woods fairy know and takes him away that night. He say he was sorry but it too late,” Grick finished with a sniffle.

  “You don’t think the woods fairy will come for me tonight do you? I wasn’t that bad and I said I was sorry,” Ellyssa asked nervously.

  “No, fairy no come this time,” Grick leaned towards her and gave her a sniff. “But you getting pretty rotten. You gots maybe one or two more chances. Depend on how bad you are.”

  “I’ll kill rats and I’ll write my lessons, I promise, and I won’t use magic again without permission!”

  “That good, maybe not too late for you like too late for poor Grick. Come, I see rat.”

  Grick led Ellyssa deeper into the basement rooms, which were quite extensive. They spread out to cover a considerably greater area than the tower and keep section above. Some of the timbers had gotten sodden and crumbled over the ages and would need to be replaced, but most of the rooms were still sound, having been protected from the elements by the ground and structures above.

  Grick shined the bulls-eye lantern on a rat that ran along the wall just ahead. “There rat, go whack it!”

  Ellyssa darted after the fleeing rat, and with a small squeal of distaste, brought her wooden rod down on the vermin’s back. The rat began flailing about and screeching in a high-pitched wail of pain.

  “It’s not dead! What do I do now?” she cried, putting her hands over her ears.

  “Whack it again!” Grick ordered.

  With another shout of revulsion, she brought the stick down on the rat again and again until it stopped moving and ceased its wailing. Ellyssa had tears in her eyes as Grick stepped up and dropped the dead rat into the large burlap bag he carried.

  “You do ok. Next time you hit rat harder,” the goblin advised.

  Grick had set out some food earlier that day in hopes of drawing the creatures out. His bait was proving effective and it did not take long to find more rats.

  Grick directed the light of his lantern at another of the creatures. “There, this time you hit hard.”

  Ellyssa followed the goblin’s advice and put all her might into the swing against the next rat. Entrails burst out of the slain creature’s side and spattered onto her shoes and small droplets of blood speckled her face.

  “Oh gross!” she shrieked.

  “You whack that one too hard,” Grick pointed out unnecessarily.

  “Ew, it’s on my shoe!” Ellyssa moaned.

  “That okay, you gots lots of time to get it right,” Grick reassured her.

  Ellyssa rolled her big hazel eyes. “Oh thanks, that makes me feel a lot better.”

  “You welcome,” Grick replied with a sly grin.

  By the time her duty was over, the burlap bag was heavy with slain rats. Grick made her go dump it outside the wall before she went to her room and spent the next hour writing out the ten fundamentals of wizardry.

  Her fingers covered in ink, she went downstairs to the bath chamber where an iron bathtub stood a few inches over the floor on iron feet. She made sure the plug was in the bathtub and pulled on a chain that dangled down from a large metal pipe jutting down from the ceiling. The pipe led to a large wooden water tank built above the main room of the keep. The top of the water tank had a roof shaped like a flattened funnel so it could capture the rainfall and fill the tank. Since it was not the rainy season, dozens of laborers spent nearly a week filling up the reservoir with buckets using the large well in the courtyard.

  The chain was attached to a lever that opened a valve in the pipe. The opened valve released a torrent of water, which quickly filled the tub. Ellyssa removed the lid that covered the large pan built into the floor filled with a slow burning oil and lit it with a long candle. The oil flared to life and began its job of heating the water with its orange and blue flames.

  Since she was not that big, she only filled the tub up about halfway, so it did not take long for the flames to heat the water to a comfortable temperature. Ellyssa stayed in the tub until after it was time for her to go to bed, scrubbing her skin until it turned red in an effort to remove the icky taint of rat smashing.

  As if rebuilding the tower and teaching his apprentice magic were not enough work, Azerick had to play parent to a willful child. He wondered if he had made the right choice. Had he simply destroyed the spirit, he would have nothing to do but direct the workers and pursue his own studies. He would not have to care for anyone else—no responsibilities, no worries, and no punishments. He would have no one, and that made him realize that although it was not the easy decision, he made the right decision.

  Between dealing with the child, preparing his vault, and casting the teleport spell, Azerick was exhausted. He needed to go into the city tomorrow and visit the Minister of Labor now that he could afford to hire more workers.

  As lovely a city as North Haven was, every visit reminded him why he chose to live in a decrepit tower miles away.

  “Ah, Master Giles, so good to see you again,” Lord Randall beamed as he stepped out of his office upon being notified by his secretary that the sorcerer had returned.

  It was a far warmer welcome than he had received on his first visit. When Azerick had first come to the minister, Lord Randall had mistakenly assumed that the young man sitting outside his office was looking for a job, just like the hundreds of other unemployed and destitute people of North Haven. However, as soon as Azerick made it clear he actually wanted to hire a number of workers, the minister warmed to him immediately. Azerick found it revolting yet darkly amusing how quickly gold changed the opinions and manners of some people.

  “I hope your workers are meeting your satisfaction. If they are not, just let me know. There are hundreds of people that will gladly take the place of any slackers,” the slightly over middle-aged lord promised as he guided Azerick into his office.

  “Not at all, Lord Randall, all my workers are doing exceptional work. In fact, I am here because I have secured the bulk of my assets and wish to hire more laborers,” Azerick informed the minister.

  The minister’s smile widened even further, if it were possible. “Fantastic, the Duchess will be most pleased with my next report!”

  “I am sure the workers and their families will be equally happy, what with having coin to buy food and clothes for the winter,” Azerick replied dryly, not giving a damn about the lord’s report.

  “Oh of course of course,” the minister waved off. “So how many workers will you be needing, a dozen, another twenty perhaps?”

  “As many as you and the guild leaders think I can keep productive. I need stone cutters, haulers, timber cutters, bricklayers, more cooks to feed them, food delivery, and carpenters. I will eventually need to purchase livestock, plow several acres of cleared timber lands, plant crops, and have them maintained by someone with farming experience.”

  The minister’s jaw dropped in shock. “Sir, you are aware that we have a significant employment shortage at the moment and it is possible for me to fill probably two to three hundred of those positions almost immediately, at the least.”

  “Excellent, if the guild leaders think that they can field even more than that and still be productive then have them do so,” Azerick ordered.

  “Of course, Master Giles, but you do realize the rather large expense involved in hiring so many people?” Lord Randall asked nervously.

  “Yes, Lord Randall, I do. Believe it or not, mathematics is stressed rather intensely
at The Academy,” Azerick replied coolly. “I will also require the permanent services of an accountant. An honest one,” Azerick stressed. “I would also like a scholar for the general education of my apprentice.”

  The minister was furiously scribbling notes on a piece of parchment as Azerick spoke. “I know just the man for the accounting job. I will have to check with the scribe’s guild for an educator. Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “Not at this time. Thank you for your assistance, Lord Randall. I look forward to the arrival of the workers as soon as possible.”

  “It has been my pleasure, Master Giles,” Lord Randall said and actually bowed as Azerick left the minister’s office.

  Azerick was glad to have the minister working so diligently to get him workers but it irritated him that the only reason he got the man’s respect and courtesy was that he was throwing around large sums of gold. A person should not have to purchase respect or simple courtesy. Any respect a person has to pay for was not worth a copper in his opinion.

  Azerick was walking through the city back towards the main gates, leading Horse by the reins, when he thought he saw a familiar face through the crowd. He quickened his pace and caught up with the older man that he was certain he recognized.

  “Master Ewen, is that you?” Azerick asked as he laid a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder.

  The grey-haired man spun about with surprisingly quick reflexes and agility for a man his age and grabbed Azerick’s wrist and strong grip.

  “Azerick, is that you?” Ewen asked as recognition dawned on his face.

  “Master Ewen, what are you doing in North Haven?” Azerick asked in amazed joy.

  “My boy, it is you!” the old man shouted and wrapped the sorcerer in a fierce embrace, clapping him soundly on the back.

  “What are you doing in North Haven?” Azerick repeated.

  “Things were getting a might uncomfortable down in Southport. I don’t like my family being threatened, and after a bunch of men started asking around about you, I decided it was time to move. I sold my home, packed up my entire family and resettled up here,” Ewen explained.