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

by Brock Deskins

  Wolf let out a yelp of pain as the searing electricity traveled up his arm and through his body.

  “Wolf, what are you doing here?” Ellyssa demanded.

  “Whew, is my hair smoking? It sure feels like it, and I’m all tingly from my nose to my toes!” Wolf said as he laughed at his rhyme when the pain passed.

  “What are you doing here, Wolf?” Ellyssa repeated. “I thought you hated cities.”

  “I do, but this is prime urban poaching! You should see everything I got,” Wolf replied, proudly holding out a sack that bulged heavily at the bottom.

  “Wolf, that’s stealing and if you get caught they will put you in jail! This is not like stealing food from the kitchen. How would you like to spend all winter in a tiny, cold jail cell without Ghost?”

  Wolf’s smile slid from his dirty face. “I wouldn’t like that at all.”

  “Then you better leave people and their stuff alone,” Ellyssa crossly advised him.

  “Okay, hey take a look at this!” Wolf said as he reached into his sack and rummaged around, back to his usual gleeful self.

  Wolf pulled out a small bronze statue of an archer affixed to a marble base.

  “Where did you steal that?” Ellyssa asked sorely.

  “I didn’t steal it, I won it in an archery competition!” the half-elf proclaimed proudly.

  “Really, that’s neat, Wolf, good job,” Peck and Ellyssa both congratulated him.

  “Where’s Ghost?” Peck asked, looking for the animal that was normally Wolf’s second shadow.

  “He stayed home. He likes the city even less than I do. In fact, I better get going. There are too many people here and Ghost is probably lonely by now.”

  Wolf fled the hustle and bustle of the city and went back to his quiet woods. Peck and Ellyssa spent a full day taking in all the sights, sounds, and especially the foods of the fair before returning to the keep, exhausted from their day’s activities. They were so tired they even turned down Grick’s rat chasing invitation, but they did bring him back some of the unique food and a few trinkets from the festival that he quietly but gratefully accepted.

  The rains came quickly after the summer festival as if the event itself was the only thing staving off the wet and cold fall season. Azerick decided that a coach would be a prudent purchase after he fought off the pretentiousness he felt about them, a decision he came to terms with the third time he was caught in a bitter squall while riding Horse into town and came down with a nasty cold.

  He was able to beat back some of the symptoms but no potion he knew of would cure the virulent illness. Azerick had even paid extra to have a three-sided cab built onto it to shelter poor Peck who became his coach driver. The first few days were nerve-wracking for both Peck and his passengers as the stableboy became accustomed to this new mode of transportation. But Peck tackled the new task with his usual determination and quickly gained proficiency.

  Azerick and Ellyssa were in the herbalist’s shop to restock their own supply for Azerick’s lab as well as those ingredients needed to treat the sorcerer’s cold. Peck waited in reasonable comfort sitting in the cab of the coach wearing a warm jacket as Ellyssa and Azerick did their shopping. It took longer than necessary because Azerick, as usual, turned it into a lecture and quiz on the various herbs that were available.

  Peck looked up from his daydreaming and found that scruffy, poorly clothed children were slowly encircling the coach. Most were running their cold-reddened fingers along the glossy midnight blue and black enameled sides and trim but a few were looking up at him expectantly. One of the boys, perhaps thirteen years old, overcame his trepidation and spoke to Peck.

  “Is this the magus’s coach?” the sodden, shivering boy asked.

  “Aye, it is. He’s in the shop there buying stuff to make his potions,” Peck looked down from his vantage point and answered.

  “Does he turn folks into frogs and summon demons up there in that castle of his?”

  Peck laughed at the question. “No, I’ve never heard him do anything like that, but I suppose he could if he had a mind to,” Peck guessed.

  A girl, perhaps all of eight years old, spoke up. “I heard he trapped the ghost what used to haunt the place in a bottle and makes her tell him the future and talk to the dead.”

  “No, he never did any such thing like that,” Peck assured the girl.

  “How do you know? You’re just a coach driver ain’t ya? Were you there when he beat the ghost?” she asked.

  Peck shook his head. “No, I wasn’t there but my friend Ellyssa was and she told me all about it. She’s his apprentice ya know.”

  Another girl, perhaps eleven or twelve spoke up, the proverbial ice having been broken. “I heard all wizardry is black magic and all wizards are evil. They snatch people off the streets and cast their spells and test their potions on them.”

  Peck shook his head again. “No, that ain’t true at all, at least for Master Azerick. He’s a good man. I was orphaned and he hired me to take care of his horses and drive his coach. He once gave me a gold coin just for stabling his horse when I was a stableboy at the Golden Glade and now he teaches me how to read and write, and a man named Ewen comes and teaches me how to fight and swing a sword.”

  Azerick and Ellyssa walked out of the herbalist’s shop at that moment carrying their purchases of herbs, roots, and various barks. The vagrant children parted to clear the path so the sorcerer and his apprentice could climb into the extravagant coach unimpeded.

  Azerick was not surprised to see them. Word of his generosity towards beggars and the homeless quickly spread through the city and they often sought him out when the street grapevine got word that he was in the city.

  “Magus, have you got any spare coin? We’re very hungry and frightfully cold, milord,” one of the children asked in a pitifully pleading voice that only years of being poor and homeless could hone to such perfection.

  Azerick smiled at the wet, shivering faces with noses and cheeks blushed red from the cold. “Are you all together or are you separate?”

  One of the larger boys pushed forward. “We’re together milord. We’re a family and we share what we get.”

  “Is that true or is he going to take everything if I give it to him?” Azerick asked one of the smaller children.

  “It’s the truth, milord. We’re a family, the only family any of us gots. That’s Bruce. He takes care of the coins and food we gets and makes sure we all get a fair shake, he does,” the younger boy affirmed.

  “All right then, here you go. Buy yourselves some warm clothes and something to eat,” Azerick said as he took out his coin purse, checked how much was in it, and passed it through the open door of the coach to the young man named Bruce. “Now you all get out of the rain before you catch a cold or worse. Trust me I know what I’m talking about,” Azerick told them as he blew his stuffed nose into a linen handkerchief.

  “Thank you, milord, and gods bless you!” Bruce cried as he immediately felt the weight of the purse in his hand.

  Even if the pouch contained only coppers, it was a fair bit of money, enough to feed them all for a couple days at least. Bruce would soon find that there was a good bit of silver and a few gold pieces that would go a long way in buying blankets for the winter.

  “You are quite welcome, now get out of the cold,” Azerick said cheerily as Peck got the coach moving.

  The keep was nearly deserted when they pulled in. Most of the workers had been let go as the weather turned too poor to continue outdoor work. About a dozen workers continued to repair the inner rooms of the keep, but even that was ending as cut stone became scarce and there would be no quarrying of new stone or cutting timbers until spring.

  Azerick, Ellyssa, and Peck made a few more trips into town over the coming weeks, every time running into a group of homeless children. They seemed to be organized similarly to the thieves’ guild in Southport in that different groups controlled or operated their own sections of the town. Ellyssa seemed unusually co
ntemplative as they rode back to their home.

  It had been a week since their last trip into town and Ellyssa woke to find her room surprisingly cold even though there were still embers burning in her fireplace. She slipped out of bed and gave thanks for the thick throw rug that lay next to her bed as she put on her soft, rabbit fur slippers. She crossed the room, opened the mesh screen in front of the fireplace, and tossed in three handfuls of wood shavings and a thick log before climbing back under her warm blankets.

  When she awoke again a few hours later, the room was still cold but not frightfully so, and her fire was still burning but the flames were getting low. That did not matter, it was about time to get up anyway and break her fast with Peck and Azerick. A pale grey light peaked through the curtains that covered her small window. Ellyssa crossed the room, her slippers making swooshing noises as she shuffled across the hardwood floors, and pulled open the curtains. She was amazed to see that several inches of snow covered her windowsill.

  She looked out past the ice-frosted glass panes and saw that snow blanketed the countryside as far as she could see. Ellyssa had seen snow before, she had lived all of her nine years in North Haven and it snowed here almost every year, but never this early. Fall was only half over. Ellyssa’s mind raced through all the implications that the early snows heralded.

  The young wizard trotted downstairs wearing a soft pair of wool-lined leather boots, a thick, knitted shirt, and a fleece-lined jacket. She also wore a pair of expensive silkwool hose and stockings under a pair of soft leather leggings. She found Azerick and Peck already at the table.

  “Ellyssa, did you see all the snow? It must be a foot deep! I was afraid I was going to have to use a shovel to get to breakfast!” Peck laughed.

  “Peck, it may be best if we set you up with a room inside the keep, at least while these snows are falling,” Azerick told the boy.

  Peck’s face displayed a crestfallen look at losing his own little room with the horses.

  “I have a stove, Master Azerick, and my room stays real warm,” Peck insisted.

  Azerick shook his head. “What if your stove burned out in the middle of the night or worse yet, started a fire?”

  “All right, Master Azerick,” Peck complied sullenly.

  Agnes bustled in from the kitchen, passed around the plates full of food, and took a seat behind her own meal.

  “Peck,” Ellyssa asked between bites, “where did you sleep when it was cold and snowy out?”

  Peck swallowed his food before answering, a lesson Agnes taught both children very quickly. “I slept in the hay loft at the Golden Glade. When it got real cold I got to sleep by the big hearth inside.”

  “What would have happened if you were not allowed to sleep inside?” Ellyssa asked.

  Peck’s face took on a look of fright. “Oh, that would have been bad it would. Even with my blanket and curling up under the straw, it got real cold and I never had to stay out at night when it was at its worst.”

  “Did you know other kids that were homeless like the ones we saw outside of the herbalist’s and the clothier’s?” Ellyssa asked, continuing the interrogation.

  “Oh yeah, we hung out a bit when I wasn’t workin', but since I was almost always workin', I didn’t see them much. But before I got work at the Golden Glade I was on the streets myself, but luckily I got the job at the Glade before my first winter.”

  “What do you think the other homeless kids did in the winter, where did they live?”

  Peck cocked and scratched his head as he often did when forced to think hard. “Hm, I don’t rightly know.”

  Ellyssa turned to Azerick who began following Ellyssa’s line of questioning. “Azerick, what will happen to all the kids with a winter this bad?”

  Azerick set down his fork and folded his hands under his chin. “I do not know, little one, I really do not know.”

  Peck perked up his head. “Hey, anybody know where Wolf is? He’s not one to be late for a meal.”

  “Oh no, Azerick, he could be frozen to death out there in all that snow!” Ellyssa cried.

  “Are you kidding? I’m wild not stupid,” Wolf said as he walked in from the kitchen with a sausage in one hand and a warm loaf of bread in the other.

  “So what do you want to do, Ellyssa, bring all those city kids here?” Wolf asked sarcastically as he fed the remains of the sausage to Ghost.

  “Hey, I was just joking!” Wolf shouted as Azerick grabbed his cloak and bolted out the door. “Me and my big mouth. Well I’m not sharing any of my food,” he told Ghost.

  CHAPTER 8

  Azerick rode Horse down the snow-covered road, which was made tricky by the fact that he could not actually see the road and there was little visual difference between it and the ditches or small drop-offs on either side. Horse plowed grumpily but dutifully through the thick powder and soon made the gates of North Haven.

  “Good morn to ya, magus, heck of a day for a ride ain’t it?” one of the guards hailed.

  The guards wore long heavy jackets over their armor and puffs of fog erupted from inside their hoods.

  “It is a heck of a day for standing around on top a cold wall, is it not?” Azerick shot back jovially.

  “Well, we soldiers got to do what we got to do, comfort be damned,” the guard laughed.

  “Same goes for sorcerers.”

  Azerick was not sure where to start looking. North Haven did not have an entire district of abandoned buildings inhabited by the homeless as Southport did. Not that it was bereft of failed and abandoned businesses; it was just that in North Haven they were spread out. Old buildings tended to be torn down to prevent the build up and spreading of urban decay and to reduce the risk of fire.

  The few abandoned buildings claimed by squatters were almost all held exclusively by those old enough and strong enough to defend them. The occupants usually formed a sort of gang that protected their property and each other. That left those too young or weak to defend themselves to take shelter in doorways or old shipping crates discarded or dragged into one of the many alleyways of the poorer sections of the city. But in weather like this, such humble shelter was grossly insufficient and those unable to find better often did not live to see another season.

  The city did have a large central park and a second, smaller park that had been built over the site where a large number of abandoned warehouses had been torn down two decades before. Azerick decided to check Haven Park, the large manicured park near the center of the city, first.

  It did not take him long to find the first group of homeless children huddled together under the roof of one of the many large gazebos dotting the park for picnics and various festivities. The children had piled and packed the snow around the outside of the gazebo, creating a wall to help block out the wind and driving snow and as a feeble attempt to trap the small amount of heat their bodies and a small fire produced.

  Wary and frightened eyes tracked the sorcerer as he rode towards the structure sheltering the young people. Several gripped sticks, broken broom and axe handles, and a few brandished small, homemade knives.

  “Rest easy, I am not here to hurt anyone,” Azerick called out to the huddled mass.

  “What do you want here?” one of the larger boys demanded. “If you think we’re easy prey for slavers you best think again!”

  Azerick understood the boy’s fear. Homeless people, particularly young homeless children, were prime targets for slavers. Men would come and sometimes offer work or food to lure their prey to a building where others would be waiting, take them prisoner, and secret them away on a ship bound for cities or nations that took a less rigid stance on slavery.

  “My name is Azerick; I own the keep outside of town. This winter is going to be very bad, unlike any you have probably been through before. I would like to offer you all a warm place to stay and food to eat,” Azerick offered.

  The children looked at him with suspicion and distrust. “Why would you do that? What is it you want from us?” the sam
e boy, apparently the leader, demanded to know.

  “I want nothing nor expect anything other than civilized behavior. I am an orphan like most of you. I also lived on the streets for several years dodging slavers, deviants, and the thieves’ guild,” Azerick explained, trying to earn their trust but still saw that they were apprehensive of him and his motives.

  “How many did you lose to the winter last year?” Azerick asked, trying a new tactic.

  “We lost two to the cold and four disappeared,” the boy answered hesitantly.

  Azerick shook his head remorsefully. “This winter will claim far more. As more snow falls and the temperature drops, more of you are going to take the risk of accepting an offer of food or shelter and never be seen again. You and I both know what probably happened to the ones that went missing. I am extending this invitation to all of the homeless children in the city. You will all be together where you can protect and watch out for each other just as you do now, except you will be out of the weather.”

  One of the girls spoke out. “Are you the magus?”

  “Yes I am and many of you are probably aware that I have been generous to the poor and the homeless in the past,” Azerick reminded the group.

  The girl whispered something to the leader that Azerick could not hear.

  “What do we have to do?” the boy asked.

  “Just get yourselves up to the keep is all. If you have any small children or anyone that needs help, I can send someone to come get them,” Azerick replied.

  “My name is Horst. We’ll see about getting to your tower,” he told the sorcerer noncommittally.

  Azerick felt confident that the group would discuss his proposal briefly amongst themselves once Azerick left and make for the tower.