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

by Brock Deskins

  Within moments, one captain and four lieutenants stood before the outraged general who still held the unfortunate soldier halfway off the ground by his ankle.

  “Who does this man belong to?” General Baneford demanded.

  “He is mine, sir,” one nervous lieutenant admitted.

  “Secure your man. He will be made an example of along with his cohort tonight,” the General darkly informed them.

  “The rest of you, watch over your men. As I said before, this is a pillage operation. We are to take what we need and move out with as little bloodshed and mayhem as possible. We will act like soldiers, not savages! Do I make myself clear?” the General shouted.

  “Yes, sir!” the unanimous response came.

  “Then get out there and control your troops and bring any who violate my orders to me tonight.”

  The officers ran to follow the orders of their commander. Two hours later, six wagons loaded with valuables, food, iron, steel, and horse feed rolled out of the pillaged town of Langdon’s Crossing with nearly two score of horses in tow.

  That night, as the unit camped upon the plains, four men were brought before the General; one for murder and one for rape along with the attempted rapist and accomplice.

  General Baneford faced the four men who stood before the entire assembled company.

  “This unit will operate with the same laws, order, and discipline as it always has. The only thing that has changed is our mission and the needless upper chain of command,” the General intoned.

  “These men sought to disobey my orders and conduct themselves however they pleased and acted in direct violation to the company’s rules of conduct and discipline.”

  The General’s eyes washed over every man standing before him, encompassing them all but seeming to pick out and stab each man individually. “For accessory to rape, ten lashes!”

  The voyeur was immediately taken to the side and lashed to a pole that had been planted in the ground.

  “For attempted rape, fifteen lashes!” and the man that the General had knocked out was strapped to a second pole.

  “For murder,” the General continued. “Twenty lashes!”

  “General, sir, it was a battle!” the soldier protested as he resisted the men dragging him to a third post.

  General Baneford spun and faced the man. “The man was unarmed and not resisting! You killed him for the simple pleasure of killing and that will not be tolerated! Twenty-five lashes!”

  The last man was sweating profusely as he saw that no more whipping posts had been erected.

  “General, please have mercy,” the man wailed, tears streaming down his face as he deduced what his sentence was to be. “I won’t never do wrong again I swear it! I’ll be your most loyal man!”

  General Baneford stepped closer to the sobbing soldier. “Would you give your life for me?”

  “Aye, sir, in a moment and without hesitation,” the man swore tearfully.

  “Good, that should ease your fears greatly,” the General told him gently then turned to face the assembled company. “For the crime of rape, hanging!”

  The man screamed, cried, and lost control of his bladder as his hands were bound behind his back and forced to sit on the back of a horse. The company parted down the middle as the horse and doomed man were led to a scrubby tree that had managed to take root in the unforgiving soil.

  An officer dropped a loop of rope over the man’s head and around his neck. At a nod from the General, the officer slapped the horse on the rump causing it to bolt forward. The rope and noose went taut and pulled the man off the horse where he swung, kicking his legs for nearly half a minute before going slack.

  Cries followed the cracks of whips as the other three men received their punishments. The General had required the lieutenants to whom the law breaking soldiers belonged to administer the punishments themselves. When they had finished their duty, they joined General Baneford in his command tent. Once his officers were assembled, he addressed them privately.

  “I made you administer the whippings so that you will know what it is like to punish a man. I hope that lesson taught you that I do not order such punishment lightly. It is distasteful, but sometimes necessary to maintain good order and discipline. In the future, the officers who are in charge of any man who commits such heinous crimes as those seen today will receive five lashes themselves. I hope that will motivate you to watch your men very closely and help them maintain their discipline. Any concealment of a crime to save your own skins will result in far more severe punishment. Do you all understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” they all responded.

  “Good, you should all be proud of yourselves. You and your men, with a few exceptions, did an outstanding job. We did better than I had even hoped and with far fewer losses than I dared dream. Have we gotten a breakdown of everything we procured today?” the General asked.

  One of the lieutenants took a step forward. “Yes, sir. The quartermaster has made a list of everything we carted out of Langdon’s Crossing, organized by type,” the lieutenant replied as he handed over the report.

  General Baneford read the report with growing pleasure then laid out his next plan.

  ***

  Ellyssa crept warily between the dark, narrow corridors between the buildings. The sun was just setting and the shadows were thick and deep. Her stomach tingled from her nervousness, though she would never admit that she was scared.

  The young apprentice tried to remember everything Azerick had taught her, things that he stressed might save her life in exactly the kind of situation in which she now found herself.

  The slap of a footfall on cobblestone and a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she spun to face it but saw nothing but more dark shadows. She took several more tentative steps forward and jumped back as a dark figure sprang from the shadows and lunged.

  Ellyssa reached into one of the several pouches she wore on a belt encircling her waist, pulled out a pinch of charcoal, and spoke words of magic while drawing a simple glyph in the air with her free hand. The magic consumed the charcoal and a hot jet of flame fanned out from her hands, striking the man-shaped silhouette in the chest and setting it aflame. The man rolled onto the ground managing to smother the fire but did not get up.

  Ellyssa’s hands shook at what she had just done and knew it was not yet over. She stepped over the body that lay writhing on the ground and crept closer to her goal. A slight rattle and scraping of wood on wood was the only warning she got as an arrow went streaking past, just narrowly missing her heart.

  Had the shield she cast on herself earlier not deflected the shaft, it would have been a killing shot. Grabbing a small, mirrored disc from one of her many pouches, she cast another spell and five identical images of herself sprang up around her, each appearing as real as the original.

  A second arrow ripped through one of her images causing it to dissipate back into the air from which it sprung. Ellyssa charged forward until she could see her attacker. As a third arrow split the air beside her, ripping a second image to shreds, she reached into her pouch, pulled out a small crystal, and dropped the archer with a pair of brilliant magical bolts.

  She could see her goal just ahead, but a third attacker leapt out of the shadows in front of her. Before she could react, a swarm of magical strikes sprang from the attacker’s hand. Another wizard—and she was out of spells! Two of the bolts tore her illusory duplicates to shreds but one found the real her, striking her in the chest and almost knocking the air from her lungs.

  Ignoring the pain, the young wizard sprinted towards her arcane opponent screaming a battle cry and hurling dart after dart as fast as she could pull them from the quiver at her hip.

  The caster went down with three, steel-tipped darts lodged in his chest. A fourth attacker tried to lunged at her as she sprinted between the buildings but a sharp jab with the end of her staff into his solar plexus sent him to his knees, impudently gasping for air. Ellyssa
raced past her fallen opponents without slowing, grabbed the stick that was planted in the ground, and waved the flag that fluttered on the end of it triumphantly.

  “I got it! Wahoo!” Ellyssa cheered.

  Azerick, Wolf, and Grick jogged up to where she celebrated, carrying the straw-stuffed dummies they had held for the practice session.

  “Outstanding, little one,” Azerick said, congratulating his apprentice and giving her a hug.

  “I almost got you with that first arrow,” Wolf said excitedly.

  “I’m glad you didn’t. The last time you hit me with one of those padded tips I had a bruise for over a week,” Ellyssa reminded the half-elf, rubbing her side where he had raised a welt and a bruise on a previous training exercise.

  “Little wizard almost set Grick on fire with dummy,” Grick complained but was still smiling.

  “Where’s Peck?” Ellyssa asked, looked around.

  “Over here,” a voice sounded weekly as Peck walked towards the group in hunch and holding his stomach.

  “Sorry about that, Peck, I just kind of reacted,” Ellyssa smiled as she apologized.

  “No worries,” Peck wheezed. “Working around horses, I’ve taken a shot or two.”

  “Congratulations again, Ellyssa, I am very proud of you. You handled that like a real mage, and your quick thinking with those darts was very well done,” Azerick praised her again, petting her blond hair. “Keep in mind, however, that many wizards may have a spell up to protect themselves from missiles, so have a backup plan in place.”

  “I know, Azerick. If that had happened, I would have kept chucking darts in hopes of distracting you until I could whack you with my staff like you were a rat,” Ellyssa snarled up at him in mock fierceness.

  It had been a month since the end of Ellyssa’s restriction, but she still went rat hunting with Grick and Peck so she could practice her dart throwing. She tried to convince Azerick that she still hated it whenever he told her he would have to think up a new punishment for her next time she got in trouble.

  “I knew you would pass this test so I had Agnes cook up some raspberry tarts to celebrate. Do you want to eat with us, Wolf, or should I have Agnes set some on the windowsill so you can steal them?” Azerick asked as they walked back to the keep.

  “I don’t steal!” Wolf replied indignantly.

  “Then what do you call it when you snatch one of Agnes’s pies or mutton chops?”

  “Urban poaching!” shouted Wolf while holding his stomach and laughing.

  All the occupants of the keep, which consisted of Azerick, Peck, Agnes, and Grick along with Wolf and Ghost, sat at the dining table eating raspberry tarts. Azerick even let the kids have a small glass of new wine since it was low in alcohol and they liked the way it fizzed.

  Ellyssa was turning out to be a faster study than even Azerick had been before he hit the limit of his wizardly spell casting ability. He was worried that by this time next year he would likely be slowing her down if he remained her primary mage instructor.

  Azerick was confident that he could get her past his own limited knowledge of wizard spell casting, but not by much. After that, she would need a real wizard to make the best use of her training. He decided to put the problem off for now, but he knew he could not delay the inevitable much longer.

  Early the next morning, Azerick was pleased to see that Zeb and Toron had come to visit again. Ellyssa and Peck were off with Ewen already practicing their weapons skills. Zeb and Simon were speaking animatedly, which meant that the conversation must involve money, accounting, or business since that was the only time Simon could be said to be animated.

  “Zeb, Toron, good to see you. What brings you by today?” Azerick asked cheerily as he came down the stairs.

  “We got our boats, lad!” Zeb shouted ecstatically. “And at a darn good price, thanks to Simon. This is one shrewd man you have here. Never in my life have I seen someone chew down a price like him.”

  “It was, ah, just good negotiating, ah, Master Azerick,” Simon mumbled.

  “Good negotiating my left foot! We were bidding on this nice four-masted cargo ship. A real beauty just built three years ago but the owner was forced to let her go to the creditors. Simon recognized this other scoundrel as a man the creditors pay to force up the bidding, so Simon tells Toron to go stand real close to him and just scowl, and you know nobody scowls better than Toron,” Zeb laughed loudly.

  “Well this shuts the scoundrel up real fast and we get the boat for half of what she’s worth! The next ship is a real pretty three-masted schooner, and when another bidder looked eager to fight a bidding war with us, Simon tells Toron to go growl at him! I asked Simon if the man was another plant and he says, no but it worked well last time; and darned if the man didn’t make another bid and we got her for a song!”

  “That is wonderful news, Zeb, good work, Simon and Toron,” Azerick said, showing his pleasure.

  “That’s not all, Az. After the auction, we go and look at another decent four-masted hauler. She’s a little older but in good condition and really put together well. She kind of reminded me of my wife!” Zeb cried and got everyone laughing.

  “We go below decks to check out her hold and when the captain ain’t lookin, Simon pulls a bit of sawdust out of his pocket and sprinkles it along the seam of the hold and says he fears there may be termites and gets a thousand gold crowns knocked right off the top!”

  “Simon, I have to admit I am surprised at you,” Azerick said jovially.

  Simon misconstrued Azerick’s remark as criticism and quickly tried to defend himself. “Well, ah, oh, I felt that the ship was overpriced and the captain, ah, was too stiff on his, ah, negotiations, Master Azerick.”

  “Well, it sounds like you certainly loosened him up,” Azerick commended. “So you bought four ships all together?”

  Zeb shook his head. “No, and you can blame me if you disagree, but I had one ship commissioned to be built and she didn’t come cheap, even though Simon still wheedled down the price far better than I could have.”

  Azerick was taken aback by the price Zeb quoted. “Okay, so what makes the ship so expensive?”

  “It was a plan that came to me last winter when it got so cold up here. The ship is double-hulled and the wood twice as thick. The keel and everything under the waterline is hardwood and the entire bow up to the bowsprit is sheathed in iron and comes to a sharp wedge like a chisel,” Zeb explained.

  Azerick scratched his head in confusion. “Other than ramming pirates, why would you want that?”

  “She’ll cut through ice like a hot sword through butter! Az, all the white furs you see the rich nobles wearing, and you don’t see many, come from animals that live on or near the ice flows. Those winter pelts are worth a fortune and the only way to get them is an overland trek through the northern tundra and trade with the barbarians that live up there. That makes for a very small supply of an item that has a high cost of acquisition. With this ship, we can sail right up to their front door, hunt and trap the animals ourselves, and make a huge profit!”

  Azerick turned back to Simon. “What do you think of the plan, Simon?”

  “Well, ah, according to the laws of business, ah, it is an excellent idea, if it, ah, works and I have faith that, ah, Captain Zeb can make it work,” Simon replied.

  “It sounds like a reasonable plan. Do the shipbuilders say they can get the ship afloat this season?”

  “Just barely,” Zeb nodded. “And only because no one else is commissioning ships right now. In fact, the shipwright was quite pleased to get the order so he could hire back the men he had to lay off. You know, you have really been a blessing to this city, son, whether you realize it or not,” Zeb remarked sincerely.

  “How is that, Zeb?” Azerick asked in confusion. He had made it a habit to keep mostly to himself and not get himself involved in the affairs of the city or its residents.

  “How many folks you got employed around here?” Zeb asked.

  Azerick
looked to Simon who immediately gave him a quote. “Six hundred twenty-three, as of this morning, Master Azerick.”

  “Nearly every one of those people working for you was in dire straits; and with the winter promising to be even worse than the last one, the gold you’re paying out means the difference between life and death for many of them. I was here last winter and it wasn’t pretty and this year’s gonna be worse by a long shot from what I hear. You told me you were tired of being an instrument of death and wanted to give life, well you done it now and you done it big, son, real big,” Zeb told him solemnly. “You’ve made more than just a home for yourself, you’ve made a legacy.”

  Azerick did not know what to say to that. He knew that the work he provided the people was important, that was why he hired far more than he really needed. He did not need all of the outbuildings or the surrounding walls repaired any time soon but he hired everyone who wanted to work to help them in these tough times. He had no idea that his employment was so critical.

  Maybe this is what all his pain had been leading him to all this time, to give him the empathy and ability to help others. Even after living in hardship in Southport, Azerick never really considered how large scale the problem of deprivation really was. He thought about how a simple attempt to make himself a home had turned into a mass work project, an apprenticeship, and a home for several other people. How far would this go? It was a lot to think about.

  The summer came and went. To see it off, Lady Miranda, under the suggestion of her mother, put together a summer festival. There were parades, a circus, and festival games and contests, but no magic show. Azerick had given all his workers the day off so that they might attend and enjoy spending a bit of the money he paid them. He also let Ellyssa and Peck go and celebrate with a bit of spending money, but he was in no mood to celebrate. He even went so far as to ignore the Duchess’s invitation to be the guest of honor.

  Peck and Ellyssa had a grand time watching the circus performers perform daring acrobatics, performing horses, dancing bears, and a man who stood inside a cage with huge lions and tigers with nothing but a whip and a chair making them do tricks. The two had just left the circus when Ellyssa felt a tug on one of her pouches. Fast as a cat’s paw, she grabbed the pilfering hand, rubbed a piece of raw wool she kept tied to the bottom of her shirt, and cast a spell that sent a powerful electric shock to whomever she touched.