The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path (31 page)

A great cloud of dust wafted over the stairs as Azerick climbed to the ground floor of the tower and began picking his way towards the stairs to search the upper levels. A wizard stumbled out of the dust and raised his wand at the sorcerer. Azerick saw that the wizard was little more than a journeyman, probably not even old enough to shave yet. He lunged forward impossibly fast, snatched the wand from the youth’s outstretched hand, and delivered a stinging, open-hand slap to his face.

“Get out of here, boy. If you are smart, you will catch up with Joshua and get your life straight!” Azerick snarled at the terrified youngster and shoved him towards the door.

Azerick continued towards the stairs. Another wizard, a real one this time, stepped out from behind a large stone column and tried to cast a spell. With a word and a gesture, Azerick sent him hurling into the wall some fifteen feet behind him and ten feet up. The wizard fell in a crumpled heap and did not stir.

The possessed sorcerer ran into a few of the younger novices and apprentices on the stairs that had been slow to leave the tower or chose not to heed Joshua’s warning but he let them pass. The young students gave the sorcerer as wide a berth as they could as they tracked him with wide, terrified eyes. Some even ran back up the stairs and waited for the deadly stranger to pass before bolting down the steps as fast as they could and fleeing out the front door.

Azerick saw that the first few floors were dedicated to the novices, journeymen, and apprentices so he skipped these rooms as well as those rooms set aside for the adepts, only pausing to shout at anyone that he saw to flee the tower and his wrath. His interests lay in the rooms of the archmages near the top of the tower.

He did not want to spend a great deal of time looting the tower of its precious items. He was more interested in making good use of his time to give Joshua and the old librarian a chance to get away. His treasure hunting was secondary, or so he told himself. Allowing the demon a measure of active consciousness altered his own perceptions and attitude to a degree dependent upon how much he let the demon come forward, and right now he was allowing the demon a considerable amount of consciousness.

Why are you letting these mewling children get away? Exterminate the lot of them! You know they have all been corrupted by these wizards and cannot be trusted. Besides, children have the most flavorful souls.

“Shut up, demon, or I will stuff you back in your little dark box in the furthest recesses of my mind,” Azerick told him, choosing to speak aloud.

The demon grumbled but remained silent, savoring the memory of the wizards he—and the sorcerer—had killed. As much as he hated sharing the sorcerer’s body, he had a suspicion that his existence was going to be far from boring. The fates had their hooks deeply in this one. Nothing could satiate the demon’s desire for death and destruction, but he could be pleased, and so far, the first several minutes of his new existence was quite pleasing.

Azerick found a rucksack in one of the archmage’s rooms and was extremely pleased to note that it contained an enchantment similar to the magic bag that was still in Horse’s saddlebags. He had hoped to liberate a few spell books, scrolls, and magical items, but the rucksack made his choosing what to take and carry much simpler.

Azerick looted anything that looked interesting. Klaraxis was able to tell at a glance if an item possessed any sort of enchantment, which also helped him in selecting which items to grab. He was already in the master of the tower’s suite near the top and anyone who wanted to get out has had enough time to do so.

Azerick casually descended the stairs and made for the entrance where he paused amidst the rubble near the collapsed ceiling. He shaped the familiar spear point onto his staff, jammed it between the closely set stones of the floor, and walked away. He was nearly halfway to the tavern where he had left Horse when he turned around and concentrated on his staff.

Inside the tower, every rune on the staff flared until the entire chamber was awash in a blinding light. Azerick and Klaraxis poured energy into the weapon until motes of light began dancing in front of Azerick’s eyes due to the exertion. The staff released all of the pent up energy it contained in a single, massive pulse of energy. The walls blew apart, sending stones flying across the open square and into nearby buildings. The floors within the tower crumbled and the excess energy sent the roof and several tons of stone blocks flying hundreds of feet into the air just before the entire structure began to topple.

Had Azerick been untainted by the demon’s presence he may have considered the innocent lives that may have been lost when the tower blew apart, fell, and crushed several buildings when it struck. But such was not the case, and coupled with the general morals of the populace, he was not about to let it concern him now. His staff popped back into his hand with a thought, if a bit sluggishly, and went to retrieve Horse and leave this disgusting warren of thieves and murderers.

He walked past the crowds that were beginning to throng the streets to see what had happened. A huge cloud of dust floated over the center of the city where the tower had stood uncontested in its own private square. Azerick snaked out a hand and snatched a familiar boy by the collar that was running past him to get a closer look.

The boy’s eyes went wide and his face turned pale when he looked up at the grim face of the wizard that had killed the other wizards a couple days ago in the tavern and in the square before he had been captured.

“I have come for my horse, boy,” Azerick told the terrified and stammering stableboy. “Don’t just stand there gaping, spit it out.”

“Y-you were captured and taken inside the t-tower. Nobody returns from the t-tower,” the boy stumbled over his words.

“Well I have and I have come for my horse. I told you that I would be back for him. Now where is he?”

“S-sold, sir, he was sold!” the boy said, almost crying.

Azerick lifted the youth a foot off the ground with one hand and stared him hard in the eyes. “I can easily find my property but I am weary,” Azerick snarled. “You had best go and get my horse and have him and my stuff, all of my stuff, in the next half hour.”

“Y-yes, sir!” the boy said, nodding his head so hard Azerick thought he would snap his own neck.

The sorcerer set the boy back down on his feet but did not let him go immediately. “He is that way about seven blocks in case you forgot to whom you sold him,” Azerick told the youth and pointed.

The stableboy took off in the direction Azerick pointed, his sandals kicking up clouds of dust as he ran faster than he ever had in his life. Azerick went into the bar to wait. Even the swill they served here sounded good right now. The few patrons and the bartender all stopped their excited conversations about the recent happenings and stared in abject terror at the red-eyed stranger that walked into the tavern.

Word had already gotten back to the tavern about the darkly-dressed young man that had walked away from the tower just before it was destroyed. They also knew that he was the one that had been taken two days before. The fact that the tavern keeper had been the one to sell Horse and his possessions nearly made the man lose his water when Azerick approached the bar.

“Give me a beer; the best you have,” Azerick said roughly.

The bartender dropped three glasses by the time he was able to pour one from his personal stock. Azerick did not try to pay and the barkeeper did not ask. Azerick drained the glass in a few quick gulps, slammed it down, and demanded another. He drank this one more slowly and waited for the stableboy to return with Horse. He had no doubt in his mind that he would, and whatever the barkeeper had to do to make restitution to whomever he sold him to was none of his concern.

Azerick did not wait long. He had just finished the second beer when the lad burst in through the door. “Sir, he’s out front, saddled and everything with his bags and all. They weren’t never opened, couldn’t, so everything’s in there I’m certain!”

Azerick nodded and left. What gold he had had on him was gone and he was not in the mood to take the time to go into his bags to get more. The boy had failed to fulfill the contract as far as he was concerned. He could get it from the tavern owner if he wanted it badly enough. Azerick frowned at his own thoughts and bad attitude. He banished the demon to the back of his mind where he would not be influenced, at least not significantly, despite Klaraxis’s vociferous protests.

Azerick’s eyes took on a more natural hue with only tiny specks of red interspersed with the hazel and green and immediately felt much better. He almost felt like he had suddenly recovered from a bad hangover. He had not noticed how heavily the feelings of anger and hatred had been weighing him down and pressing on his soul until they were gone. This was something he was going to have to be very wary of in the future.

Azerick pointed Horse to the north where he left Sandy atop the small knoll.

 “Sandy!” Azerick shouted as he neared the rise.

Sandy’s brightly scaled head popped out of the sand near the top of the mound where he had left her. “Azerick, you’re back!”

Azerick rode nearer and it seemed to him that Sandy was avoiding looking directly at him. He looked at her as she turned her head away and noticed a small, shiny, black hoof sticking out of the sand.

“Sandy, what did you do?”

“Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Why won’t you look at me?” Azerick asked.

Sandy turned her head and looked at him but only far enough so that her right eye was trained on him. “There, I’m looking at you, happy?”

“Look straight at me,” Azerick told her.

“There’s no need, we dragons have very keen eyesight. I think I have some sand in it too,” she replied evasively.

“Sandy, look at me,” Azerick told her crossly.

Sandy huffed and faced her surrogate parent. If dragons could get a black eye, Azerick figured that this was what it would look like. Several scales were missing or cracked around her left eye and snout and did not gleam nearly as brightly as the rest.

“You went and attacked those goats didn’t you?”

“No!” Sandy replied.

“Then what is that sticking out of the sand next to you?” Azerick asked.

Sandy looked down and saw the small cloven hoof. “I think it’s an old skeleton, the desert is full of them,” she replied quickly.

“Sandy, it still has hair on it!” Azerick exclaimed, trying to hold back a laugh as he pictured Sandy stalking, attacking, and being battered by the feisty goats.

Sandy looked like she was battling with the truth and finally gave up. “Who would have thought that those hairy little demons would kick and head butt like that, or actually form a concerted attack? I knew they were herd animals but mama never said anything about them forming a cohesive defense bolstered by a mass of solidarity before!”

“Where did you learn to speak in those kinds of terms?” Azerick asked, amazed at the dragon’s level of knowledge.

“I read it in one of the books I borrowed from your magic bag. I learned how to use it watching you when you took the food out of it. Speaking of which, do you have any more sugar cubes, or better yet, honey?” Sandy asked, actually wagging her thick tail.

“You did not do as you were told and got hurt in the process, so I think not,” Azerick told her.

“Ugh, that’s not fair! I’m not hurt and the goat was the one that got eaten! You just don’t understand the mind of a superior predator!” Sandy shouted and turned away with a huff then turned back around. “I have instincts you know! A million years of instincts can’t just be turned off like a, a, any woman you smile at with your ugly little flat teeth!” she shouted and began stalking off in the wrong direction.

“Sandy?”

“What?”

“Where is my book?”

Sandy dug furiously in the sand, sending the spray unnecessarily far and high then popped up a moment later with the book in her mouth.

“There’s your stupid old human book!”

“Sandy?”

“What? I told you about the stupid goat, I gave you your stupid old book, and you won’t give me a sugar cube, you don’t have any honey and probably wouldn’t give me any anyway because you are mean and stingy, so what do you want now?” she shouted in full tantrum mode.

“We’re going that way.” Azerick pointed about ninety degrees north of the way Sandy had been heading.

“Fine!” the little dragon shouted and began stomping off in the new direction.

Azerick could no longer contain his laughter as he watched the dragon stomping away, her hind end swaying furiously in aggravation.

CHAPTER
16

Kayne had sent a message to the bulk of his army and they were now currently camped just north and east of Langdon’s Crossing where they would remain until the duke decided it was time to lay a trap for Jarvin’s soldiers. He kept up his raids, nothing substantial or risky, just enough to keep Jarvin’s men patrolling the roads as much as possible. His horsemen had little problem outrunning the slower infantry. The patrols had half the number of cavalry he did so even when they did manage to get within striking range, Jarvin’s horses would break off and ride for the safety of their archers and pikemen.

Between raids, he took his men through a rarely used gate in the dead of night guarded by men the duke trusted implicitly—at least as much as he trusted anyone. As winter drew to a close, Ulric’s men began restricting travel in and out of the gates as well as the harbor. This brought about several complaints from merchants who were making the first spring runs from Langdon’s crossing by caravan or ship, but a visit from the guard and few cracked heads quieted their dissent.

Ulric kept to his castle for the most part, not interfering so long as Kayne followed the instructions he had given, his men behaved themselves, and kept a low profile while in the city, which they did remarkably well considering that they were mercenaries. There had been a few squabbles, mostly at bars after too much drinking and a bit of blood spilled but not much more than usual, certainly not enough for anyone to go running to Jarvin with any kind of conspiracy. Ulric kept Kayne’s men leashed for now but when the snows broke, North Haven would be his.