The Sorcerer's Scourge (34 page)

Azerick took the insult without rebuttal and picked at the bowl of nuts while Alex escorted the General out so he could further discuss military tactics.

The army continued to trudge through the deep snows as they pushed relentlessly onward to defend their King. It was precisely six days later that they reached End’s Run, exhausted, cold, and thoroughly miserable.

The heavy brigade found the gates closed and several hundred men manning the wooden walls of the town. General Brague, Azerick, Allister, Rusty, and Alex comprised the command staff that was selected to meet with the King and whoever was in charge of End’s Run. The gates opened wide enough to permit a man who looked more at home in a stockade than heading a town’s defenses.

General Brague stepped forward to greet the man. “Good afternoon. I am General Brague, commander of the army of North Haven.”

The man spit a gob of tobacco into the snow and replied, “Donnigan, commander of the biggest bunch of scum north of the border and babysitter to about a hundred-fifty candy-assed soldiers out of Brelland. I guess you’ll be wanting to see the King.”

“It would be greatly appreciated.”

“Can’t put that many men in town all at once. Best have em bust camp where they’re at. From what I understand, you’ll all be heading to the southern pass at first light.”

Brague called up one of his captains and began spewing orders. “Captain, I want you to take the quartermaster and his crew into town, commandeer ever washtub, basin, and kettle big enough to for a man to sit in, and set up as many bath tents as you can. Every man will wash before getting one hour in the taverns to enjoy himself. It will be the last chance they will get for some time. Send them in groups of five hundred with strict orders to behave themselves.”

“Yes, Sir!” the Captain barked, saluted sharply before doing an about-face, and stomped off to enact the General’s orders.

The command staff allowed Donnigan to lead them through the gates, across the town to where they exited another set of gates to the north, and began following a path cut into the steep hill where a mansion sat overlooking the town.

“Mr. Donnigan,” Brague asked as he followed the head of Landrin’s enforcers, “have you received any intelligence regarding Caalendor’s forces?”

“Yup,” Donnigan answered with another glob of black spit ruining the snow. “Scout come back earlier today and said they’re about four or five days out, which is why I said y’all probably want to head out at first light.”

“Four days!” Brague exclaimed. “How in the six hell’s did they make that kind of time?”

Donnigan shrugged his big shoulders. “Don’t know. All I know is there’s near ten thousand of em, which looks like they got ya beat by about three to one. Were I in charge, I wouldn’t be feeling too good about those odds.”

“Ten thousand,” Brague whispered uneasily. “I never would have thought Caalendor, or anyone else, would be able to field that many men so quickly. He must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel for a long time and hired every sellsword between here and the Sumaran capital.”

“Do you think our field advantage is enough to even the odds?” Azerick asked the General.

“Maybe,” Brague answered with a look of great unease. “Even if it is, it will be a costly and bloody affair.”

 Rusty looked to General Brague almost pleadingly. “Surely with three spell casters on your side we can shift the battle strongly in our favor?”

Brague’s shoulders almost slumped with resignation. “You can bet he brought at least a few clerics with him. He knows about Lord Giles, his friends, and his allegiance to North Haven and the King.”

“Hey, I have not given my allegiance to anyone except my school, my wife, and myself!” Azerick declared vocally.

“It doesn’t matter. Intentional or not, you saved Jarvin’s crown once and then married his most ardent supporter. He knows you will oppose him, even if only to defend North Haven, so he will certainly use whatever resources are available to counter the threat you pose.”

The group broke off discussions as they neared the strange mansion and the doors flew open. King Jarvin Ollander strode forth from the open doorway with a look of great pleasure mixed with the stress of the enormity of what they were all facing.

“Lord Giles, General Brague, and friends, words cannot express my gratitude for your coming so quickly,” the King practically gushed as he embraced each man there, with the exception of Donnigan. “I am particularly surprised and pleased to see you, Azerick.”

“Well, I did take an oath and all,” Azerick replied absently.

Jarvin gave Azerick a conspiratory wink and asked, “Miranda made you come didn’t she?”

“She certainly did.”

Jarvin’s warm familiarity took Azerick by surprise. He had half expected the King to be sitting on some makeshift throne waiting for the very people that were about to risk their lives in his cause to call on him and wait for the pleasure of his audience. The fact that he had not acted as expected put Azerick in a state of conflict between actually starting to like the man and holding onto his prejudicial hatred of nobility.

“As I said before, I will take what I can get. Follow me inside where we can discuss tactics. I am afraid we have little time, as I am certain Mr. Donnigan has informed you on the way up.”

Jarvin led them inside where numerous maps and figurines were spread out upon a long dining table. Each of them took note of the stained glass Solarian’s Eye set high in the east wall as they entered, bolstering the opinion that the house was as much a mansion as it was a church.

Their host made his appearance and the top of the stairs and descended them as they gathered around the table to study the maps and troop figures.

Now we are finally graced with some acceptable company
, Klaraxis practically cooed.

Azerick shifted his sight to take in the aura of the man approaching them. The golden glow of wizardly ability shown quite clearly, but there was another, darker shimmering beneath that confused him. Azerick’s heart practically skipped a beat when he finally recognized the tainted pall of undeath the aura represented.

The sorcerer gripped Jarvin by the upper arm and whispered urgently into his ear. “Your Majesty, do you have any idea what that man is?”

Jarvin laid a reassuring hand atop Azerick’s. “I do. He is a friend, without whose intervention my family and I would certainly be dead right now. I am certain that if half of the things I have heard about you are true, you can understand that we cannot always choose our fate, but we can choose what we do with it.”

The vampire must have extraordinary hearing because he locked eyes with Azerick as he looked back towards the stairs. Landrin had paused, possibly waiting to see how the newcomers would react, and then resumed his approach when Azerick nodded his understanding.

We should really share lunch with him sometime. I have not had a proper meal since you cursed me to this existence.

You chose your fate when you threw in with those mages in the Black Tower, demon, so shut up!
Azerick rebuked Klaraxis and pushed him back further into his mind.

Azerick’s vitriolic reaction was not because he felt so repulsed, but because part of him desired exactly what the demon wanted. Of course, that part of him was entirely because of the demon’s influence, but their spirits were so intertwined it was impossible to separate them completely. The demon’s desires were as real as his own were. He ignored the demon’s taunting laughter as Landrin spoke to them.

“Gentlemen,” Landrin greeted the assembly of men, “I am Landrin Bailey. Welcome to my home. My manservant, Fetch, shall provide you with anything you need. Please make yourselves at home and partake of anything I have to offer.”

Rusty leaned towards Azerick and whispered in his ear, his face paling visibly. “Is that thing what I think it is?”

Azerick twitched his head and made a small motion indicating that it was all right. He glanced at Allister and saw that the old archmage had also made the connection, but he did not appear overly distraught. The three mages would obviously need to discuss the matter in private later.

Jarvin addressed the group but spoke primarily to the senior military man. “Landrin had Mr. Donnigan fetch us any maps he could get his hands on. This is what I have come up with so far. Caalendor’s men are coming up the southern pass. If we move out first thing in the morning, that should give us two or three days before we engage them. General, how many men do you have with you?”

General Brague looked almost apologetic when he replied, “Three thousand, Highness.”

Jarvin looked sighed and shook his head. “It is less than I had hoped for, but more than I expected. From what Donnigan’s scouts told me, Caalendor is approaching with nearly ten thousand men. How he managed to move that fast is even more perplexing than how he acquired that many to begin with.”

“I am no expert on priestly magic,” Allister cut in, “but I imagine they have ways of lending strength and influencing the weather to some degree. Particularly if they work in concert.”

“I do not know either, magus, but it certainly seems plausible. I had thought to place the bulk of your forces here at the head of the pass,” Jarvin said, indicating the position on the map with a few small metal figures. “We keep a reserve element of five hundred men a quarter mile back. What did you bring in the way of cavalry?”

“I am traveling cavalry heavy with over seven hundred horses. The snow will make most cavalry tactics impossible, particularly an effective charge with lances, but even in general melee, being mounted will provide them with an advantage. All of the horses wear a boot that increases hoof width, much like a reindeer. It’s a northern thing so I doubt Caalendor’s horses will have such.”

“He will still have twice as many horses as us. Magus, do you have any suggestions on how we can neutralize the enemy cavalry?” Jarvin asked openly of the three spell casters.

Azerick took the lead and said, “We think we can create an avalanche within the pass. The trick will obviously be getting Caalendor to commit his cavalry so that we can trap them beneath it.”

“Majesty, do you know who is leading Caalendor’s forces? If it is General Haskins, I doubt he will fall for any ruse we might come up with,” Brague told the King.

“I would agree. The truth is I do not know who is leading the men. I thought General Haskins and my company commanders to be honorable, loyal, and beyond reproach, but I watched one of my most senior advisors murder Magus Illifan before my eyes and the captain of my own Blackguard leading the coup. I do not know whom to trust. Forgive me if I say that I pray General Haskins is sitting in a dungeon cell beneath Castle Stonemount at this very minute.”

“I hope he is as well, Your Majesty, no matter how uncomfortable that may be for him,” Brague concurred. “I would say you have the right of it. These maps are a lot better than what I had to work with on the way up, but most everything is how I planned it out in my head.”

Jarvin clapped his hands together. “All right then, gentlemen, if you have any further need of me, you know where to find me. At least Lord Bailey and I can offer you one comfortable night in his manor before we all set out on the morrow.”

Azerick cut General Brague off before he could speak. “I know I could certainly use a soft bed and warm bath after living the past two weeks in a tent. It is unfortunate that General Brague will take no succor that is denied his men. The General is a man of such uncommon integrity that he has refused my every offer of magical aid to make his traveling more comfortable. I am certain the good General will not accept the comfort of a fully submersible hot bath while his men are doing the ‘iron pot squat’ in a wash tent.”

“Is that right, General?” The King asked. “I must say, your dedication to your soldiers is positively admirable. Very few men in your position deny themselves a certain amount of luxury given their station. You are to be commended, General.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he replied through gritted teeth.