The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path (21 page)

“Honorable minotaur,” the figure spoke in a soft, lilting, and obviously feminine voice. “It has been a very long time since my people have met one of yours face to face. We are pleased with such a rare happenstance.”

Toron simply ducked his big, horned head in reply. The figure then turned and looked between Zeb and the big Eislander, Modi.

“It appears there are two disparate groups that have found themselves allied against a common foe. Three now,” the childlike figure said.

It was the Eislander that spoke first. “I am Modi, battle jarl chosen to lead the fight against the monstrous creations that have been preying upon my people.”

“Upon others as well, brave battle jarl. I am Coranalathana, Corana, for ease of use,” she smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.

“I’m Zeb, ship captain of the southern men you see here. We came here to hunt and fish when we were attacked by these creatures. We would have been destroyed if it hadn’t been for Modi and his warriors. We’d all been destroyed again if it hadn’t been for you and your friends, for which me and my men are most grateful.”

Corana inclined her head at Zeb’s words. “It is good to see that the humans have gained enough wisdom to set aside their differences when faced by a common foe. Such has not always been the case. I would be most grateful if you are able to tell us more of what you know of these creatures, and most importantly, the one who creates and controls them so that we may complete our own mission and return home.”

“Their leader was a hobgoblin. A shaman or necromancer of some sort,” Zeb said. “Toron and Modi took him down but he used his magic and got away. He was set up in a cave a hard day’s travel back the way we came. We tore up his laboratory as best we could before we left. The young lady over there says she can hear him in her mind when he’s issuing commands. She says if he realizes she is still about he can control her.”

Corana took several graceful steps towards the bound woman, her huge wings covered by the blanket Modi fastened around her since most of her clothing had been stripped off during her transformation. It also made his men slightly more comfortable not seeing the wings.

“You are their captive?” she asked Hati.

“No, I asked Modi to bind me so I would not hurt any of them or be forced to return to that disgusting creature,” Hati replied.

“From what I understand of Eislander prejudice and superstition, I am surprised the battle jarl is going through so much trouble,” Corana said with a sly lilt to her voice.

Modi spoke up. “She is the daughter of a very good friend of mine. He returned from an exploration and trade trip to the far north. Not only did he return with furs and ivory, but a new wife as well. Hati’s mother died of a fever when she was not even nine. I tried to help him look after her. It was hard for her growing up and now I fear—I just don’t know what to do.”

Corana examined the brand on Hati’s forehead. “You have been marked with a rune of possession. I would surmise that the necromancer wears the master rune upon his flesh.”

“Can you remove it? Can you fix her?” Modi asked anxiously.

A look of remorse flashed across the elf’s face. “I am sorry, I cannot. Though my people boast some of the most skillful wizards in the land, none are with us on this mission. This undertaking was given to my fellow rangers and me. The best thing is for her to keep calm and avoid powerful emotions or thoughts that may attract his attention if he has truly forgotten about her.

“We must continue our mission now. I pray we can find this necromancer before he can reorganize and renew his unnatural experiments. I will leave you all with some salves to treat the injuries of your wounded.”

Corana and some of the other elves pulled several beautifully crafted glass jars out of their small packs and gave them to Modi and the others with the instructions to rub the salve onto their cuts and worst bruises.

“Wait,” Zeb called just before the elves departed. “The girl mentioned something about the shaman being very afraid of his master. I’m afraid that the hobgoblin may be the most pressing concern but not the greatest.”

Corana’s face looked pensive. “That is very distressing to hear. All the more reason for us to make haste then. Fare thee well, humans and minotaur.”

Zeb and the others watched in awe as the elves bounded across the snow without the use of snowshoes yet barely left a mark of their passage. It took them only seconds to dart gracefully over the edge of the depression and out of sight. This trip was going to make some mighty good tavern stories when he got back. Few people have actually seen the reclusive elves for several generations. Such an event, especially in their natural surroundings, was unheard of.

The salves worked miraculously on their wounds, easing pain and closing cuts almost as quickly as one of Azerick’s healing potions. Despite their extreme weariness, they rested only about two hours before marching on towards the waiting ship. Modi and Zeb’s men finally reached the point of undeniable exhaustion barely an hour later and was forced to make camp.

Balor had brought only the bare essentials so as not to be slowed down more than necessary, but it was enough to get everyone fed and enough blankets and bedrolls that they would not freeze. They were back into the strange nightly fog but the skies remained clear and thankfully dry.

They rotated around the two small iron stoves that Balor’s relief force had brought. Zeb had abandoned their own sled and supplies back near the ragmen’s cave. He was surprised when the still bound Hati sidled over to where he sat next to Toron and Balor.

“Sir, you said you knew a wizard who might be able to change me back and free my mind from that horrible beast?”

“Name’s Zeb, little miss, and yes, I know some folks that can do it, if anyone can,” Zeb replied.

“They would do it though if they could? I do not have any money.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Hati. They’re real decent folks and will likely do it just for the sake of interest and kindness.”

Hati looked thoughtful, though whether frightened or relieved he could not tell.

The morning stillness was broken by the sound of Hati crying out and struggling against her bonds. She kicked her feet furiously as she rolled about the snow jerking on the leather cords that bound her hands to a belt around her waist. He hands were fastened to the belt at her front so that she would have an easier time walking.

“Hati, what’s wrong, girl?” Modi barked in concern.

The young woman panted as she fought her bonds and the restraining hands of a couple of Zeb’s men. None of the Eislanders were willing to touch her.

“It’s Zagrat! He has found me and is ordering me to escape and return to him. He says to kill any of you I can if I get the chance, especially you and the minotaur.”

Hati lay face down in the snow, breathing hard, and obviously fighting more than just the bonds around her wrists.

“Strap her to the sled. We’ll have to transport her that way, at least until that caster gives up,” Modi ordered.

The big oarsmen made a comfortable recliner on the sled and covered the winged woman with blankets before tying her down. Hati snarled, cursed, and gnashed her teeth in frustration and rage at not being able to perform her master’s wishes. Exhaustion finally took her nearly four hours later and she fell unconscious.

“If she continues that all the way back home it’s going to kill her unless we just let her go,” Modi remarked as they marched on towards the ship.

Zeb nodded. “I think Bones can keep her still for most the way. With any luck there will be a range limit on the curse and we can sail beyond it before long.”

“You think it does?”

Zeb shook his head. “Something tells me there ain’t, or if there is, it’s a lot farther than we’re likely to be going.”

A ragged cheer went up late the next day as the bay and the ship anchored within came into view just before the fog settled in. Groans of despair sounded when they found that ice covered the entire bay and held the ship in its frozen embrace.

“Noatun,” Modi grumbled, making the word sound like a curse. “The closer of ships. I’m sorry, Zeb, it looks like we’re too late.”

“Don’t be so sure my friend. The
Iron Shark
was made to escape just such occurrences as long as the ice ain’t
too
thick.”

Zeb led the men out onto the ice, abandoning the sleds and excess gear, keeping only the blankets and bed rolls which they draped over their shoulders. They crossed the ice spread widely apart so as not to overstress the brittle covering. The few sailors that remained aboard ship, mainly the wounded men that Zeb and Modi had sent back before they went after the ragmen and missing men, Cook, and Bones, threw ropes out towards the approaching men who passed the ends further back the line for the them to hold as they crossed the ice in case they fell through.

Bones had insisted that he go with the relief party but Balor had convinced him to stay aboard the ship. The surgeon was needed to look after the wounded men already here, he had argued. Not to mention he was even older than Zeb and not as accustomed to strenuous work.

Fortunately, the ice held beneath them though there was a great deal of ominous creaking and cracking as the last men began crossing. Those that were unable to climb the rope ladders and netting draped over the side were helped aboard using the cargo winch and the hoists used to pull up the longboats.

Bones went to work on the newly arrived wounded immediately as Zeb ordered the icebreakers put into action. The crew aimed the heavy booms with the thick iron wedges over the sides and dropped them, punching through and shattering the ice around the ship. The least exhausted men raised and released the icebreakers repeatedly and the ship began to move.

Zeb secured Hati in Balor’s private berth and shared his own stateroom with his first mate. Bones drafted a concoction that sedated her if she began thrashing about again. Modi stayed with her when he was not walking about the ship, admiring its construction and the work of her crew.

“You know, Zeb,” The battle jarl remarked as he strode onto the wheelhouse where the captain was expertly guiding the ship slowly through the ice-choked channel, “I think my people made a mistake moving inland and abandoning the sea.”

“Aye, it’s in your blood, my friend. Passed down from your father’s father. It takes a lot to dilute all that salt once it gets in there. Probably three or four more generation until your kin are finally free of it,” Zeb replied with a knowing smile.

The captain felt sorry for his new Eislander friend. He had thought he might never get to sail again after he and his crew had been captured by the psylings and enslaved. That thought had filled him with more sorrow than the idea of actually being a slave. It was why he owed Azerick more than the sorcerer would ever realize when he had freed them. Sailing was not just part of his life, it was life itself.

“You know if you ever decide you want to return to the sea I might be able to arrange something.”

“As a crewman on your ship?” Modi asked with a raised eyebrow.

Zeb chuckled. “On one of them. I’ve got five, and at least until you get your sea legs back. I suspect it wouldn’t take more than a couple seasons to remind that old sailor’s blood what to do. I know you’re a leader and damn fine one, but it takes more than leadership to captain a ship.”

“Aye, I see what you’re saying. My old pride makes me say foolish things sometimes,” Modi chuckled.

“It does it to the best of us. But I mean what I say. If you and any of your men ever want to take a hand at being a sailor, get me a message down in North Haven and I’ll get a ship under ya somehow.”

“That’s a fine offer, Zeb. I may take you up on it one of these days. For now though I need to get back to my people and tell them everything that has happened. Just one other thing I’d ask of you, although you have done more than any man could expect of another he just met,” Modi began uncomfortably.

“There’s nothin’ too much to ask of a friend and nothin’ too much for a friend to offer,” Zeb replied.

“It’s Hati. I can’t take her back with me. Even before, she wasn’t treated well. She’s a real good woman and it makes me ashamed how my own people tormented her because of her mother. Even if your wizard friends can put her back to rights, rumors will have spread and she would find life even worse if she came back home.”

The big Eislander took a deep breath. “Do you think your friends would look after her and treat her decent? She’s a strong lass, real strong now, and a good worker. She wouldn’t be just a freeloader or a charity case. She wouldn’t accept that no how.”

Zeb laughed loudly at the difficulty Modi was having asking for help. “If you knew the young man I was taking her to, you wouldn’t need to ask. He’s got a habit of bringing home
strays
you might say, me and Toron being just a couple of them. Like I said, Modi, these are real good folks. You don’t have to worry.”

Modi nodded his head, clapped Zeb on the shoulder with one big hand, and went to check on how Hati was doing.

It took nearly as long to bash through the few miles of ice as it did to sail the four hundred miles south to a small cove controlled by Eislanders that Modi directed them to. Zeb tacked within sight of the shoreline for nearly a day before finding the tiny, protected cove. Three open galleys sped out of the cove towards the slightly bigger and far heavier
Iron Shark
. Each boat was packed full of large men wielding axes, spears, ropes, and grapnels.

“I hope you can convince them that we’re friends,” Zeb said as he stood next to Modi watching the ships rowing towards them at an impressive rate.

“I don’t know, Zeb. I sure hate to interfere in another man’s business,” the battle jarl said seriously then gave Zeb a wink.

As the closest of the galleys drew near, Modi cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted in his native tongue. Zeb was not sure if the oncoming men heard him or were disregarding whatever Modi was saying. His nervous crewmen gathered around the ships weapons, watching the approaching Eislanders with trepidation.