The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) (22 page)

“I am not saying that, but let us be clear. This is an assassination, not a battle to the death, which neither of us could be assured of winning. His death must be instantaneous. To try and fail to kill him is to court disaster. The Academy has the power to scour a city clean off the face of the world, but so does he. That sort of battle is the last thing we need or might be capable of winning after we fight these false gods.”

“If you expect him act in such a cataclysmic way if he learns of our intent, perhaps we should reconsider this plan in its entirety. I like to think well enough of you that you find this sort of action undesirable.”

“The only thing I am certain of is his total unpredictability. He might just shake his finger at us and paddle us like errant children, or he may send a mountain crashing down upon our Academy and temple. No, personal feelings aside, Azerick is too great a threat to the kingdom to be allowed to roam free. Gods, he murdered a notable lord in the King’s hall with no more feeling than squashing a fly.”

Bishop Howarth nodded. “I understand Lord Atwater’s actions were treasonous and warranted execution.”

“Not without at least a semblance of a trial. Even if Jarvin secretly applauded Azerick’s solution, publicly he cannot support such ruthless, dictatorial actions. So this is where we stand. Do you have what we need to accomplish it within that bundle on the table?”

“I believe so.” The priest pulled back the cloth to reveal three swords lying beneath.

“Swords?”

“Not just any swords, the Swords of the Saints. Do you know of the elves’ disastrous attempt to leave this world and take their entire physical nation with them?”

“Vaguely. They tore open some kind of rift and nearly destroyed themselves.”

“The rift they opened allowed numerous demons to escape the abyss. This was before the creation of Solarian’s Light. The church had no holy warriors with which to battle undead or demonic scourges at the time, so we prayed to Solarian to aid us. His answer came in the form of four swords, blessed by him for the specific purpose of destroying demons.”

“I only see three,” Maureen pointed out.

“Brother Sweet carries one.”

“Assassins within the church? You surprise me, Bishop.”

“Sometimes in order to bring the light, one must strike from the shadows. I am sure you have a few people of such skills within the Hall of Inquisition?”

Maureen nodded. “We do.”

“You know Lord Giles better than I. Do you think this will be effective against him?”

“From what I understand, he was originally possessed by a demon but later died. His soul then travelled to the body of the demon that possessed him, thus becoming the possessor. My sources tell me his son, Daebian, stabbed him with a very special sword that pulled the demon’s spirit from his body. So we have a human soul in a demonic body. Whether that is sufficient to make him especially vulnerable to these blades I cannot say. Such a thing is more within your expertise.”

“Quite right. A demon’s soul is much like a bloodstain. Once it defiles your clothing, it will always leave a trace no matter how much you scrub. So there is an element of the demon’s essence still within Lord Giles who possesses its physical form despite what he likes to show the rest of us. I am certain the Swords of the Saints are capable of killing him swiftly. There exists but one other conundrum we must recognize.”

“What is that?”

“His son.”

“Which one, the pirate or the monstrosity? It is a tossup as to which is the more dangerous.”

“If Daebian tried to kill his father, I doubt he will pose much objection for anyone who might finish the job. What can you tell me of his other son? How might he react if we execute his father?”

The Headmaster pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. What had been a distasteful but necessary action was quickly spilling over into talks of massacring a family line.

“I know how horrible this sounds,” Bishop Howarth said softly, “but we must consider all the possible consequences of our actions.”

“Raijaun is very powerful, possibly a match even for his father if he ever truly embraces his gift. But he is also kind and steady. He came to The Academy to help us create the gates. I am certain he overheard many unkind words regarding his existence, but he never showed any anger or aggression. He rather reminded me of his father when he first came to The Academy, only much more mature and less volatile. I cannot say how he will react. No one can be more fearsome than a peaceful man pushed to fight.”

“But could we destroy him with the swords as well if it became necessary?”

“He was created with the physical and spiritual essences of Azerick, so he too should be as vulnerable as his father. If we are considering killing him because of a potentiality, where do we draw the line? Do you think Lady Miranda, Duchess Mellina, or the people of North Haven will simply turn a blind eye to his execution? Azerick Giles is practically worshipped in that city.”

“Insurrection is a problem for the King. Mine is dealing with unholy abominations threatening our world and way of life. First and foremost are these Scions and their horde. A very close second is Azerick Giles. If his son remains peaceful, I have no problem leaving him be. But if he decides to threaten our people like his father has done, then I will spend my last breath putting him down as well. Are you willing to stand and do the same?”

The Headmaster ran her hand lightly over the hilt of one of the swords and stared blankly for several moments. “I am.”

“I thought as much. I suggest you take the swords to His Majesty as quickly as you can. I suspect you shall keep a blade for one of your special officers?”

“It is my intent.”

“Good. Jarvin will then have the other two to dole out as he sees fit. This will allow us to strike from multiple angles. If one of our agents cannot reach him, our odds are greatly increased that someone else can. When would you like to depart?”

Maureen rolled the swords into a bundle and tied them with a length of cord. “The sooner we set this in motion the better. My sources tell me we have very little time.”

“What transpires in North Haven?”

“The idiot created a Source pool then tried to shift it to another plane just as the elves attempted to do with their entire nation.”

The holy man’s face paled. “Dear god of light, what happened?”

“The fool apparently succeeded, only no one has seen him in two days.”

“What about the barrier?”

“I’m not sure, but it is bad. The son says he can no longer do anything to maintain it. Whatever is going to happen is going to unfold very soon.”

“Weeks, months?”

“I am betting more likely it is days. Did you know dragons have been spotted flying in the skies?”

“I had heard some gossiping but have seen nothing myself.”

“The ones we have seen appear to be mostly younger dragons and are staying away from the large cities. The garrison still in Argoth managed to bring one down a few days ago when it got too overzealous. I must assume it was not prepared to face the wizards left behind.”

“Why do you think only the younger drakes are mucking about?”

“I can only theorize, but my guess is whatever power the Scions have over them is not strong enough to dominate the elder dragons—yet.”

Bishop Howarth looked hopeful. “Perhaps they never will.”

“Unlikely. The Scions had complete dominion over the dragons during The Great Revolution. I imagine that will return when they are completely free of their prison.”

“It sounds like you should probably hurry. Brother Sweet will see you back to the gate.”

The Academy’s Headmaster clutched the bundle of swords beneath her robes and climbed the stairs with Brother Sweet trailing just behind her. The man was so unobtrusive that Maureen had forgotten he was even in the room until it was time for her to leave. The priest led her back toward the gates by a different route from which they came with the same quiet professionalism he had displayed throughout the entire meeting.

“Brother Sweet, how many men have you killed during the course of your duties?”

“Five, Headmaster.”

“Five? Forgive me, but that does not seem like many given what I assume are your duties.”

“One should not keep score to give testament to their abilities. It cheapens the lives of those we must take. I was brought to the seminary when I was four years old. By the time I was seven, the Brothers recognized a natural affinity for many of the skills I now employ. I have been training for a moment like this nearly all my life. When the moment comes, you can almost be certain it will be I who thrusts the first blade.”

“Just know this, Brother Sweet; Azerick Giles is not a man. He has not been one for many years. Underestimate him and you will likely doom us all.”

“I would never commit such a sin, Headmaster.”

“Good luck to you, Brother Sweet.”

“May Solarian’s light shield you from the darkness.”

The gate snapped to life and Headmaster Florent stepped through the threshold and back into Southport. Brightridge’s gates only allowed travel to Southport and the valley where Azerick planned to make their final stand. Fortunately, Maureen’s people had found the small gate the sorcerer had created to infiltrate The Academy Grounds and were able to duplicate it without his or his son’s assistance. She had hoped to make it back to her office unseen, but such was difficult if not impossible given the heightened state of activity.

“Headmaster!” someone called out as she entered the hall leading to the stairs to her office and the private gate to Brelland.

Maureen turned and dropped her hood since her disguise was obviously of no use here. “What is it, Luca?”

“Headmaster, I have received several reports today of dragon sightings and multiple incursions by these so-called ravagers. I also have the latest expenditure and personnel reports.”

“Tell me of the ravagers and dragons.”

“The dragons have been feeding on the livestock but have yet to do more than make brief sorties against a few of our smaller towns. Fortunately, most of those citizens have relocated to one of the primary cities with the evacuation gates. The ravager attacks have been more brutal. Although their numbers are few, they have been creating terror in some of our less populated regions. Any town with the resources has sent out soldiers to put them down, but their speed makes it almost impossible to catch them.”

“These are most likely only a few who have managed to find a crack in the wall and slip through. There is little we can do to deal with them. The same thing with the dragons. We cannot start sending out our wizards to stamp out small fires like these, or we will soon leave Southport under-defended. The people will have to do the best they can. Are the dragon attacks threatening our food supply?”

“Minimally. Most livestock and grain stores have been moved to the valley and the nearby caves in anticipation of the incursion. However, if the Scions do not invade soon, that will change as we consume what has been set aside for our current position.”

“I would not worry about that, Luca. The bells have already started to toll the midnight hour. The increased appearance of these ravagers is proof that the Scions’ prison is failing, and they will soon begin their invasion in earnest. Put our people on alert and in position. We will stand three shifts of eight hours in a full deployment. All troops will sleep at the ready, no getting comfortable. I assume Commandant Reese already has his soldiers doing the same, but update him on our perceived timetable.”

“Yes, Headmaster, but what of the personnel and expenditure reports?”

“Stack them next to the privy where they can be of some use. The first thing I need you to do is find Magus Skinner and send him to me immediately. I will be awaiting him in my office.”

Luca clasped his hand in front of his chest, gave a short bow, and left in search of Magus Skinner. Headmaster Florent climbed the winding stairs to her office and set a pot of tea over an oil-fueled burner. She could have used her magic to bring the water to an instant boil, but she thought it tasted better brewed naturally. The kettle began to whistle and Maureen poured herself a cup. She began to bring it to her lips before setting the cup back down, pulling a flask from her desk drawer, and adding a liberal dose of whiskey to it. She smiled as the brew burned a line down her throat and felt her nerves ease just a touch. A knock at her door instantly destroyed her moment of relaxation.

“Come in.”

A bald man of slightly larger than average size stepped into her office and made a loose, clasped-handed salute. “Headmaster.”

“Magus Skinner, I have a task for you.”

“I hope it is more interesting than teaching children which end of the wand is dangerous.”

“I promise you, this is something far better suited to your abilities. Open that parcel,” the Headmaster instructed with a nod to the bundle lying on her desk.

Magus Skinner stepped closer, untied the cord securing the bundle, and unrolled the heavy fabric to reveal the swords within. “Swords?”

“Saint Swords,” Maureen clarified. “You know of the sorcerer Azerick Giles, but do you know what he is?”

Magus Skinner gave a curt nod. “I’ve heard things.”

“They are likely all true or near to it. The King has decided he is a threat to the people, and I and the Bishop agree with him. These swords are blessed by Solarian to kill demons. One of the Church’s men is in possession of one, and I shall be taking two of them to Jarvin. I want you to take the other.”

“You want me to kill the demon sorcerer?”

“Yes, but not until this war is over. Azerick’s power is likely the key to our having a chance at victory. He cannot die until the Scions are defeated. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. It seems a bit ungrateful to kill the man who saves the kingdom though.”

“It certainly is. Is this going to be a problem for you?”

Skinner shook his head. “Naw, just appreciating the irony of it.”

The headmaster drummed her fingers on her desk. “You should know this is likely a suicide mission. If you try and fail, Azerick will certainly destroy you. If you succeed, his son or any number of his followers will leap to avenge him.”