The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path (47 page)

One piece of good fortune for the outnumbered and outclassed defenders was that with Kayne’s archers scattered and all but destroyed, their own archers atop the high walls were now able to add their supporting fire with near impunity. Despite the renewed support, the ram finally managed to crush the gates open beneath its rhythmic pounding and North Haven’s reserve elements were now fighting desperately to keep the mass of mercenaries from flooding through and wreaking havoc inside the city walls.

It seemed that no matter how hard they fought, the enemy continued to press slowly but inexorably through the gates. Only the hastily erected barricades kept the enemy forces from spreading out once they were through the sundered gates and running amok through the city streets. Civilians ran out of homes and inns wielding a variety of weapons from old swords and spears to pitchforks, broom handles, and butcher knives. Men, women, and children broke their nails tearing up the cobblestones and hurling them at the slowly advancing enemy.

Seeing her lines faltering, Duchess Mellina ordered her personal guard forward to bolster the brave men and women desperately fighting a losing battle to hold the gates. The duchess led her guard forward herself despite their protests, stilling their entreaties for her to stay back with an icy glare.

Their foes were beyond the barricades now and beginning to spread out. The trained mercenaries made short work of the civilians that blocked their paths trying to defend their homes and families, but for every man and woman that was cut down, two more jumped in, fearlessly taking their place.

Duchess Melina’s long, slender blade darted in and out of the vulnerable joints and visor slits of the enemy like a snake’s tongue flicking in and out of its mouth. The duchess was a true lady in every sense, setting the standards of propriety and decorum that every lady in the kingdom could only try to emulate.

However, beneath that veneer of civility laid the ruthless heart of a woman of profound strength and ability. Her father and then her late husband had taught her how to fight. Both great men often said that a leader must be ready and capable of defending their people against any who sought to do them harm.

Seeing a leader standing proudly beside them in the heat of battle gave soldiers the strength and courage to stand against twice the number of men whose leader cowered in his castle or far behind the lines of battle and sent runners to issue orders to the men who fought and died in his or her name.

No cries of fury ever escaped the ice queen’s perfect lips. Only the cold look of purpose and determination showed on the duchess’s face as she bloodied one enemy after another. From the corner of her eye, she saw a spear questing for her side deflected by a slight man in the armor of her personal guard. His armor bore the dents and scratches of numerous turned blows. A slight kick to his mount’s flanks brought the young man close enough to allow him to thrust his sword beneath the spearman’s helm and through his neck.

Duchess Mellina nodded her appreciation to her guard then glared suspiciously as she saw the emerald eyes looking out from behind the enclosed helm and the long lock of auburn hair that fluttered in the late winter breeze.

Before she could say anything, the soldier kicked his mount ahead to engage another foe. Mellina could not afford to pay the matter further heed as she blocked the swing of a gap-toothed, unshaven man’s sword. Bending low over her saddle, she thrust her blade right between that gap that looked so much like the hole left in the wall of her sundered gates.

***

Sound flowed back into Captain Brague’s ears and light returned to his eyes just in time to see Kayne hauling his sword back to finish the lethal blow his helm had turned. The captain was not about to give him the chance. Kayne’s follow up stroke hastily turned into a parry as Captain Brague’s fury renewed itself with a vengeance and he hacked at the mercenary leader like a man chopping wood.

With absolutely no attempt at skill or finesse, Captain Brague screamed in rage, swinging his longsword over his head and battered against Kayne’s raised blade repeatedly, giving the lethal man no chance to do anything but absorb the punishment his sword and arm were receiving under the captain’s relentless assault.

Kayne saw in the enemy commander’s eyes and the berserker fury in his blows that he realized he was outmatched as a warrior and that the only hope he had of winning was through shear brutality. Kayne knew the strategy, had even had it used against him on multiple occasions, but in the end they all simply wore themselves out until Kayne was able to easily slip his sword into their bodies and kill them. Such a tactic would often work against lesser men, but not against him.

Kayne accepted the punishing blows upon the serrated back of his blade figuring to let the Valarian notch and dull his own sword. His hand and arm thrummed under the constant battering vibrations but it was nothing he could not handle.

The mercenary leader saw that the captain was getting desperate as he threw his shield to the ground and gripped his sword with both hands, bringing it crashing down with all of his might, releasing a savage roar of anger and frustration. For a second time, the battle around the two leaders paused as the peal of over-stressed steel rang out in protest.

Kayne looked at his shattered blade in uncomprehending confusion. His eyes crossed in an attempt to look at the berserker captain’s longsword that was now firmly buried in his skull to a point just above the bridge of his nose.

Captain Brague wrenched his longsword free with a spray of bone fragments and brain matter and watched the mercenary leader’s corpse topple from his saddle, landing with a dull thud and the squelch of hoof-churned mud, blood, and slush.

As word quickly spread of the undefeatable Kayne’s death and the continued onslaught of magic killed scores of men at a time, the remaining mercenaries and Ulric’s soldiers began a retreat to the south that quickly became an undisciplined rout.

The wizards gave a short chase to discourage any who might change their mind, hurling balls of fire and another terrifying meteor storm from Allister into their retreating ranks.

Azerick pulled up short after chasing the fleeing men to the edge of the forest. “We need to get to the docks! Ellyssa and Roger, go find Wolf and the others and let them know they are safe now. You can put shackles or hobbles onto the men we captured and use them to help clear the keep of corpses. Everyone else, follow me. We are not finished yet.”

With a sigh of exhaustion, the others chased after Azerick as he raced towards the east city gates while Captain Brague and his men gave chase to the retreating mercenaries, ensuring that they did not get the chance to regroup and pillage the countryside.

Without the hundreds upon hundreds of men shoving forward through the shattered gates, the mercenaries that had won their way into the city were now being pushed back at a faster pace than that which they had won the ground to begin with.

Duchess Mellina, her guards, and the defenders upon the walls were about the only true soldiers left to drive the invaders back out of the city. The rest were stalwart citizens, sailors, innkeepers, blacksmiths, and just about anyone who had the courage to pick up a weapon, stick, or rock and use it to defend their city.

Azerick and his friends raced for the gates. A few of the men guarding the eastern gate recognized Azerick as he approached, shouting for them to open the gates and let them pass. Soldiers on the inside opened a smaller sally gate and let them into the city without question. The party raced through the streets of North Haven towards the docks.

Azerick sent Horse sliding on his hooves to a stop just before one of the wooden piers. All five of Zeb’s ships occupied the space at the end of the docks just as Azerick had instructed.

The sorcerer jumped from his saddle and immediately began giving instructions. “Rusty, I want you on the
Iron Shark
while I take
Dolphin’s Grace
. Umair, Maira, and Joshua, I want you three to split up between
Majestic
and the other two ships. Allister, you can lend your support to any of the other four.

“We are going to help Zeb and his men take out those ships outside the harbor, intact if possible. I think Ulric put most every man he had on the ground so I don’t think they will have large crews. At least I hope not. As long as we can take out their sails and weapons we should be able to capture them. I do not want to sacrifice a lot of lives to try and take them intact. If they prove too difficult or costly, sink them.”

“For Solarian’s sake, Azerick,” Rusty complained, “we are all exhausted and I know you are too. We cannot take on the whole bloody world in one day.”

Azerick laid a hand on Rusty’s shoulder. “I know you are tired, Rusty, we all are, just like you said. But we need to finish this and the only way we can guarantee that it gets finished is to crush Ulric’s ability to wage war. We have helped rout their soldiers and now we need to take apart his navy. If we can capture some of these ships then we can help North Haven build its own navy to repel any future threat. Besides, it is a good chance to increase the number of our own ships and that is just good business,” Azerick said with a smile.

“When did you get so wrapped up in the sailing business?” Rusty demanded.

“It’s in my blood, Rusty, it’s in my blood. Now everyone make sure you have what you need and let’s get going.”

Azerick ran down the dock towards
Dolphin’s Grace
while the others rode or ran towards the rest of the ships. Zeb sent his cabin boy to watch after the horses they left behind, not needing him for what they were about to do.

“All right, lad, you got us all here so what are we doing?” Zeb gruffly asked.

The deck and rigging was swarming with men and dozens more were in the hold, every one of them armed and ready to do battle.

“We are going to capture those ships. Barring that, we will sink them.”

“Jumpin’ seahorses, boy, those are warships! War galleons with thick hulls and twice as many cats and ballista mounted on her than we have, not to mention the five hundred men each one of them can pack aboard,” Zeb protested vehemently.

“I can neutralize the ship’s weapons and I think we have already routed most of that five hundred on the battlefield,” Azerick replied.

“That sounds like a whole lotta thinkin’ and not a whole lotta knowin’, Zeb countered.

“Look, Zeb, those men had to get here somehow and I bet they didn’t walk or someone would have seen them and warned us. I am betting that nearly all those troops were loaded aboard those ships and dropped off a little ways south of here and they did not have time to return to Southport to load up another full compliment and return. That means they are probably carrying a standard compliment of men at best, more likely a skeleton crew.”

Zeb ground his teeth as he chewed over the idea. “You willin’ ta bet your life on it, lad?”

“Since I will be on board the answer to that seems rather obvious.”

“Cast off, ya louts, hoist the sails, and put your backs to the oars. We’re goin’ shoppin’ for some new boats!”

Zeb turned back to face Azerick once more. “I hope ya haven’t forgotten about the little detail of the chain stretched across the harbor or this is gonna be a short trip.”

Actually, he had forgotten about it. “I’ll take care of it.”

Azerick turned and saw the other ships casting off as well once Zeb ran up the signaling flags ordering them to get underway. Azerick took up a position at the bow of the ship and watched as they neared the harbor mouth and the massive chain stretched across it. The harbor was divided into two by a small rock formation jutting above the surface some ten feet at low tide with a chain running to it from a gatehouse on each opposing shore.

As
Dolphin’s Grace
approached the massive chain barricade, Azerick once more allowed Klaraxis to come to the fore enough that he could use his abyssal power of decay and corruption against the massive steel links. Several links near the southern gatehouse turned black and corroded with unnatural speed. The steel flaked and crumbled until it could no longer support its own incredible weight and shattered under the pressure, sending the chain to sink into the sand and silt of the ocean floor.

The moment the task was accomplished, Azerick pushed the demon to the back of his mind with a shudder of revulsion, still remembering and feeling the effects of losing control earlier that day.

The
Majestic
sailed out of the harbor mouth and into the open sea next to Azerick aboard
Dolphin’s Grace
. The three other ships followed close behind as they approached the enemy warships not far beyond North Haven’s port. The ships were already close enough that Azerick could see men scrambling about the decks trimming sails, manning weapons, and preparing the big warships for battle.

It was quickly apparent that the enemy crews had not expected North Haven’s merchant navy to attack. The men on board likely thought them foolish, for even a poorly crewed warship could sink merchant ships with relative ease before they could hope to land a boarding party.

Zeb’s ships spread out the moment they were beyond the harbor mouth and began tacking in a zigzag pattern as had been discussed previously. The key was to make their own ships as difficult to hit as possible while bringing them within range of Azerick’s and the other wizards’ spells.

It was a plan still fraught with danger. The spell casters needed to get within approximately three hundred yards for most of their longer-ranged spells to be effective while the big frigates mounted huge ballista that could launch heavy stones nearly five hundred yards. Fortunately, each ship only mounted two of the massive weapons, one at the bow and one at the stern, and was slow to reload.

 The loud crack of the heavy ballista carried over the water as huge stones began arcing out towards them. Zeb and the other ships tacked diagonally towards the lethal war vessels trying to make themselves harder to hit.