The Sorcerer's Ascension (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  The experienced adventurers quickly overwhelmed the hired soldiers. Maude and Borik pressed a trio of house guards backward toward an ornate staircase that led to the second floor and the likely bedchamber of the lord of the manor, unless he slept in a coffin in the cellar as many vampires were reputed to do.

  Several more guards from the second floor ran to help those forced into a fighting retreat by Maude's Marauders. Tarth shifted his magic to the newest battle, wrapping two more guards up in a large throw rug and adhering three more to the floor. Borik struck one guard in the stomach hard enough to double him over as Maude dropped him with a solid hit of her cudgel to his head.

  The battle raged up the grand staircase, Maude and Borik fighting side by side, slowly grinding down the overmatched household guards until only a scant few remained standing by the time they reached the top of the stairs.

  "Mercy please, I beg you!" cried one of the guards, his plea quickly taken up by his two remaining comrades.

  "Drop your weapons and you will not be harmed!" Maude commanded, breathing heavily from the fast-paced battle. "Borik, bind and gag these men securely. Malek, Tarth, follow me to the vampire's chamber," Maude instructed as the guards were being secured.

  "Is your master in that chamber?" Maude asked, indicating the large double doors at the end of the hall.

  "Yes, but…" the guard answered.

  "Is he alone? Is there anyone else left we must fight?”

  "I don't believe anyone else is left but…," the guard stammered out before Borik put the gag in his mouth.

  Maude, Malek, and Tarth stalked alertly down the hall as Borik finished securing the fallen guards. She looked at her two companions and nodded before launching a hard kick at brass door handles where the two doors came together. The doors flew apart as Maude and Malek burst into the room taking up a stance several feet into the chamber and to each side of the now open doorway. An old man with wispy white hair stood before them dressed in dark clothing and a black flowing cloak.

  "By the holy power of Solarian I command you, back foul creature of the night!" Malek shouted, holding his holy symbol high.

  Before the invaders could react, the wretched creature let out a primordial shriek of rage and charged between the fighter and cleric. The dreadful-looking man fled with a speed that made him appear as little more than a black blur and bowled over a surprised Tarth in a flurry of silken robes.

  "Borik, heads up!" Maude shouted in warning.

  The dwarf looked up from where he was finishing binding the surrendered guards just as the balding, wrinkled face of the laird barreled into him, sending him tumbling down the steps of the staircase. The old looking man in black garb somehow kept his feet and made the bottom floor landing just ahead of the rolling dwarf. Maude and Malek came running just as Borik came to a stop while Tarth was still upstairs trying to untangle himself from his silken trappings.

  The three Marauders chased after the fleeing lord, just catching a glimpse of black darting through the door to the dining hall. Maude, Borik, and Malek sprinted across the sitting room, through the dining hall, and out the door of the kitchen.

  The pursuers had to throw themselves down and to the side as a black carriage sped by, pulled by four black destriers, a young stableboy or coach driver clinging to the seat rails as the shriveled, white haired devil screeched and lashed at the horses, black cloak flapping in the wind.

  The three adventures stood up as Tarth and Borik finally made their way out of the house, and all four watched the rapidly retreating coach disappear in the distance.

  "Damn it!" Maude cursed. "I thought a vampire couldn't go out in sunlight?"

  "Perhaps his cloak protected him from the cleansing rays of the sun, or perhaps he possessed some magical talisman. I am sure that the sun will force him into hiding shortly. Nothing can protect such a creature from the sun for long," Malek said.

  "Let's finish tying up the rest of the guards before they come around and get any ideas then we'll see what treasure we can find in this place," instructed their leader.

  A few questioning eyes looked at the group as the wounded guards were bound and gagged. They then split up, collecting gold, gems, jewelry, and anything of value that they stacked in the center of the sitting room before searching out more valuables. It took over two hours before Maude finally called a halt to the looting of the mansion, a huge pile of treasure already heaped in the center of the floor.

  "That is a lot of loot," commented Malek. "How are we ever going to pack it out of here?"

  "I found an open wagon and two more horses in the stables," Borik answered.

  "Perfect, hitch it up and bring it around, and we'll load everything into it," ordered their fearless leader.

  "What should we do about this estate of evil?”

  “We'll set the place aflame before we leave. Drag all of the guards outside. The town's fools can come and claim them when we're finished," Maude said.

  Thirty minutes later, chests of coin, jewelry, silver flatware, plates, pitchers, paintings, furs, and tapestries were all loaded into the cart and covered with a tarp. Borik and Tarth tied their two mounts to the back of the wagon and rode on the bench seat of the wagon while Maude and Malek followed behind on their own horses.

  The group passed through the town without stopping, the townsfolk cheering them the entire way until they left the town of Duskshire behind them.

  "We'll make our way to Brightridge. It's the nearest city of any size where we can pawn a lot of the loot. We will camp off the road and outside of towns. We don't want to attract any kind of attention carrying this much valuables or we're bound to attract outlaws," Maude said.

  "We're rich, Maude. I never thought we would do it, but we hit the mother lode this time," Borik said, positively giddy for maybe the first time in his life.

  The successful adventurers followed Maude's plan, avoiding the towns along the way and sleeping in the woods a couple hundred yards away from any roads. They passed a few people along the road, only exchanging short greeting or pleasantries and were fortunate to avoid any bandits that normally plagued the roads nearer the larger towns and cities.

  Two days out from Brightridge, they rounded a bend in the road and came face to face with a large contingent of armed men. Their surcoats and heraldry marked them as belonging to some lord and not bandits or highwaymen.

  That small comfort quickly evaporated as over two dozen guards circled Maude and her marauders.

  "Halt, in the name of the King and Duke William, Lord of Brightridge," a large guard with a short-cropped blond beard and blond hair hanging below the rim of his pot helm commanded.

  Borik pulled on the reigns and urged the horses to bring the wagon to a halt.

  "What is the problem, good sir?" Maude asked in the most polite tone that any of them had ever heard her use.

  "I am Captain Jorgenson, Captain of Duke William's regional highway guard. Are you recently come from Duskshire?"

  "Yeah, we came by Duskshire a few days ago. Is that a crime now?" Borik demanded.

  "Borik, shut up and let me handle this!" Maude insisted. "Yes, sir, we have recently come from Duskshire where we, Maude's Marauder's, heroically liberated the fine people of that town from an evil, possibly undead menace that kidnapped, enslaved, and oppressed the folk," Maude proudly proclaimed. "Under the adventurers’ guild charter supported by the King, adventurers are allowed to plunder dungeons, caves, lost cities, and liberate oppressed people being terrorized by unlawful evil wizards, tyrants, and undead and may lay claim to any treasure they find belonging to said evil being; chapter twenty-three, paragraph four, subset a through f.

  "I see. Please bring Lord Preston forward," Captain Jorgenson looked over his shoulder and commanded.

  A spindly old man wearing dark clothes and a black cloak rode forward on a black horse at the Captain's bequest. His hawkish eyes opened wide when he recognized who stood before him.

  "That's them! Those are the ruffians who br
oke into my mansion, killed my guards, and probably stole everything not nailed down!" the old man screeched, pointing a bony, accusing finger at the party of adventurers, his eyes bulging in rage.

  Captain Jorgenson nudged his horse forward and threw back a corner of the tarp that covered their plunder. "Lord Preston, does any of this belong to you?"

  "Yes, all of it! That is my silver; those are my tapestries, paintings, and chests. And those are my horses as well as the wagon that that filthy dwarf has under his backside!" Lord Preston cried out, shaking in his fury.

  Maude hissed at Malek. "I thought vampires burned up in sunlight? He doesn't look like he's burning to me!"

  "And he doesn't have sharp pointy teeth either," Borik added. "In fact he doesn't look like he has many teeth at all."

  "This does not look good," Malek observed.

  "By the authority granted me by Duke William, Lord of Brightridge, bestowed to his Grace by King Jarvin Ollandar, ruler of all Valeria, I place you under arrest for assaulting the lawful Lord of Duskshire, trespassing, theft of property, horse theft, attempted murder of a lawful Lord of Valeria, and assault!"

  "Oh crap," Maude muttered under her breath.

  "You will surrender your weapons and not resist. If your wizard attempts to cast a spell he will be shot," the Captain promised as the guards pointed crossbows at the party.

  It took two days before the group crossed through the massive main gate of Brightridge. The guards had been professional and treated them reasonably well. Their horses were stabled while the prisoners were led through a small iron gate at the base of the tall outer wall of the castle. The air became noticeably cooler as they descended several flights of stairs. A few torches stuck into sconces secured to the walls lit the gloomy passage in a wavering orange light. The odor of old straw, sweat, fear, and human waste permeated the air. A few cries of fellow prisoners sounded from behind locked cell doors.

  The guards locked Maude and Tarth in one cell and Malek and Borik in another. Iron bars separated the adjoining cells while walls of solid stone and a heavy wooden door banded in iron with metal bars for a window separated others.

  "I can't believe this happening. I became a priest of Solarian to help people, not rob them and get arrested," whined the cleric dejectedly.

  "Pfft, you became a priest of Solarian to keep from having to marry that blacksmith's daughter that you were caught with in his barn," Borik sniped.

  "What do you think is going to happen to us?" Malek asked, changing the subject.

  Tarth answered, "Hm, well let's see. The penalty for stealing from a lord is hanging, for assaulting a lord is hanging, for breaking into his manor with the intent to rob him is hanging. For setting fire to his manor is hanging, and…, oh, for misusing chapter twenty-three, paragraph four, subset a through f of the charter of the adventurers’ guild, is hanging.” Helpfully ticking off each charge on his long, slender, nail painted fingers.

  The sound of a key turning the lock of Maude and Tarth's cell door brought a halt to their jocularity. A plump man wearing well-made cotton spun robes entered the cell. He nodded his nearly bald pate to Maude as he introduced himself.

  "Good day, lady and gentlemen, and…" he said with a smile which dropped as he gazed at blue-haired elf sitting on a stone bench frowning at one of the holes left by a quarrel in his robes. “Ahem, well then, I am Lord Tarsley, your assigned counselor. I am here to prepare your defense for your trial."

  "I'm glad to see we are actually getting a trial," Maude said.

  "Yes, we are quite civilized in Brightridge. In fact, the King is coming to witness this trial and will institute its form of law throughout the kingdom if he approves of it," Lord Tarsley said proudly. "Now let me verify all of your names and then we will proceed to putting together your defense."

  "I'm Maude Ballister, that's Borik Deepstone, Malek Barthalis, and Tarthanalis Moonglow," Maude replied, introducing the counselor to her group.

  "Now you are a cleric of Solarian are you not," Lord Tarsley asked Malek.

  "Yes I am. I would never have knowingly committed these crimes."

  "Oh good, so you are a cleric in good standing with the temple then?"

  "Um well, pretty much I guess. It's been a while since I was sent out."

  "You were sent out of your church?"

  "Yes, but it was as a sabbatical to destroy the legions of undead that plague the kingdom, you see."

  "Begging your pardon, but I do not see. I have never seen the walk in my life, nor do I know anyone who has seen such a horror either. Have you seen any undead terrorizing the countryside?"

  "Yes! In a crypt we were exploring," Malek shouted out excitedly.

  "And why were you in the crypt?"

  "To plunder its riches, obviously. That's what adventurers do. Oh, and to bring glory to great Solarian by destroying the unnatural creatures, of course," Malek added hastily.

  "I see; you were attacked by undead guardians after breaking into the final resting place of someone's ancestors in order to plunder the valuables that were left to the departed by their loved ones. Is that a correct assessment?"

  "Well, not the way you say it," the cleric said, crossing his arms and pouting.

  "I think it would be best if you remain silent during the trial," Tarsley suggested. "Now, Maude, why don't you tell me how this all came about."

  Maude told the counselor about how a woman had approached them in the bar, made claims of how the townsfolk had been enslaved or disappeared, that the laird was a tyrant practicing necromancy, and was a vampire feeding off the people of Duskshire.

  "And what evidence were you able to obtain to support these claims?" the counselor asked.

  "We interviewed several people and nearly all of them supported the claims made by the people at the inn. Everyone knew of his wife and son, but no one had seen either of them in decades. Screams were heard for days coming from within the mansion around the time they vanished."

  "I see, so numerous supporting claims of evil doings by the people was the basis upon which you justified your actions and assumed the authority granted to you by the adventurers’ guild charter."

  "Yes. Do you think there is any hope for our defense?"

  "I should like to think so; you may have acted on poor judgment but with good faith. Many of the townsfolk are being summoned to appear to give testimony and much will depend upon what they say."

  After several more questions, Lord Tarsley wrapped up his interview to go and work on his clients’ defense. "I'll return if I have more questions once I interview the witnesses from Duskshire.”

  Borik glared at Maude through the bars of his cell. “See, this is why I wanted to quit this idiotic adventuring crap! Now we’re gonna swing for sure.”

  “No one made you sign up for it!” Maude shouted back. “We’re going to have a fair trial and they’ll see that we acted in good faith as adventurers are meant to do.”

  “What adventurers?” Borik roared. “No one does this anymore! No one is going to give an orc’s ass about some charter signed by a centuries dead king legalizing activities that ain’t been practiced for a hundred years!”

  “We are a legitimate adventurer party!”

  Borik crossed his arms and sat down heavily upon his bench. “I’ll be sure they carve that in our headstones. It will be a perfect epitaph for perfect bunch of morons.”

  Three days later, Lord Tarsley returned to the cell holding his clients. "I trust you have been treated well? You have not lacked for food or drink?" the barrister asked.

  "No, all things considered we are well enough," Maude replied.

  "Good, now I have had the opportunity to interview several witnesses from the town and they support much of what you have told me, and that is good for our defense. I also sent two of my assistants to investigate the mansion and they have informed me that you did not actually kill or even seriously injure anyone in your raid, and that is very good indeed. Overall, I think we may be able to provide an
adequate defense given the unusual circumstances. It is apparent that Lord Preston was not a well-liked man, and we may be able to use that to sway the judge. Many townsfolk are claiming hardship and cruelty under his oppressive rule. If we can convince the judge of his cruelty, it can only help to ease whatever sentence they may impose on any charge of which they find you guilty."

  "You think they'll find us guilty?"

  "Of that I would be almost certain. Regardless of your good intentions, it still stands that Lord Preston is the lawful laird of Duskshire. My primary job now is to minimize the number of charges you will be tried for and gain you leniency for any you will be found guilty of."

  "I see, thank you."

  "The King has arrived as well, and your trial will begin on the morrow."

  The counselor left Maude and her crew alone in their gloomy cells once again.

  "Don't worry, we've been through some tough scrapes before and gotten away more or less in one piece. Lord Tarsley seems a decent sort and clever in his own right. He'll get us out of this, I'm sure," Maude reassured her group. "Tarth, how are you holding up?"

  The elf just sat in his corner, pale-faced and trying not to touch anything around him. He would occasionally bring a corner or fold of his robe to his nose and wince but otherwise said and did nothing.

  The passage of time within the windowless cell was interminable. It seemed an eternity before the guards brought the prisoners out of the dungeon, let them wash, and was presented before the court.

  They sat on a bench at the front of the large courtroom. A man in a powdered wig sat behind a large desk set upon a dais several feet above the courtroom floor. A scribe sat off to one side near an empty chair just forward and to one side of the dais.

  The adventurers looked around and saw that the courtroom was packed full of spectators. They took note of private viewing box built above the dais and screened in for privacy. Maude assumed that the King was likely observing the proceedings from this lofty perch.

  "Your Majesty, Lords and Ladies, nobles and commoners; let the trial of Brightridge versus Maude's Marauders now commence. The honorable, Lord Highworth, presiding," the bailiff shouted out in a loud clear voice.