TST (32 page)

Such a beast could easily reduce the town to splinters long before he could arrive to do anything about it. Could he even do anything about it? Was his magic powerful enough to faze such a creature? He did not think so but he had never let such concerns stop him from defending himself or those he cared about before and he would not do so now.

By the time Azerick neared the town his legs ached and his lungs burned from running the several miles back. He saw that the gates and a large section of the palisade had been smashed and lay in pieces upon the ground. The fact that he saw no smoke and that there were people milling about greatly reduced his fear of coming upon a slaughter.

Azerick saw Toron’s large horns and muzzled face rising above the crowd. He ran towards him, suspecting that Zeb would be close by. His assumption proved correct as he drew near and saw Zeb talking with the mayor next to Toron. Zeb seemed angry and Toron held his big, double-bladed battle-axe tightly in his fist and wore his heavy leather battle kilt.

“What happened?” he yelled as he drew near the small group.

“Seems you were right, lad. The good mayor here was keeping something from us all along. I assume you saw the dragon?” he asked then continued when Azerick nodded in affirmation. “It seems that the dragon shows up every year right around the time of summer harvest and demands tribute as some kind of tax. It took me and three of my men to keep Toron from trying to lop its big ugly head off and getting himself killed and probably a lot of us in the process.”

“It’s not our fault!” The mayor cried. “We do not have the weapons or fighters to even try and defend ourselves against that creature and we are too far away from any vassal to request help from them.”

“You should have let me go,” Toron growled. “Better to die as warriors defending yourselves and what is yours than living as cowards to be preyed upon by another!”

“I agree with you, Toron, but it is their town and their way of life to live as they choose. I say get the ship loaded with whatever goods you plan to take, I’ll get my things and my books, and we will leave them to their own problems as soon as you are ready to set sail,” Azerick said with contempt.

Zeb looked a bit squeamish as he answered Azerick. “I’m sorry, lad, but the mayor gave most of your things to the dragon.”

Azerick spun on the squat little mayor and raged. “You did what?” he shouted at the man as blue arcs of power began jumping across the knuckles of his clenched fists.

Mayor Remkin backed away with his hands raised before him, suddenly realizing for the first time exactly what made this young man so intimidating.

 “It wasn’t my fault!” he quailed. “The dragon could sense some of the things in your room and demanded that we bring them to him or he would peal the roof off the inn and dig them out himself! I had never seen him so insistent! Besides, you were all supposed to be gone by now.”

Azerick made several short paces, gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists in frustration. He finally spun towards the mayor’s quaint yet opulent home and struck it with a lightning bolt powerful enough to shatter a large section of the front wall. Lacking the supporting base, an equally large section of its roof quickly followed the wall downward to lie atop the pile of rubble.

He then spun about and faced Zeb. “Zeb, load up the ship with whatever you plan to trade, get the men on board, and get out of here.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Zeb asked.

“No,” came the furious sorcerer’s short reply.

“I will stay here with you,” Toron proclaimed.

“So will the rest of us, lad.”

“No, Zeb. If I cannot take care of this myself then you and your men will not be able to provide that much help. There is no sense in you all dying for nothing. Toron, there is no one I would want more by my side and watching my back in a situation like this than you, but if it actually comes down to a fight I do not think that even your great strength and battle prowess will get me out alive. I need you to take whatever books I have left and keep them safe. Just get them to North Haven. Deposit them in a safe box under my name. I will retrieve them there if I am able”

“Very well, I will guard them with my life. They will be there for you when you come for them,” Toron rumbled.

With those instructions, he stalked up to his room and filled his pack with essential supplies. He stopped by the kitchen and stuffed some food into his bag. When he reemerged from the inn, Zeb and a few others were still standing near to where he had left them. The mayor and several locals were surveying the damage to his house.

“Which way did it go?” Azerick demanded.

Several locals all pointed to the north and slightly west of the town.

“What are you going to do, son?” Zeb called after him as Azerick headed for the ruined gates.

“I’m going to get my things!”

“Do you really think your magic is powerful enough to destroy a dragon?”

“No!”

“Then how are you going to get your things back?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Do you think getting yourself killed is going to make Delinda happy?” Zeb called out.

Azerick spun around at his words. “All of my life people have taken from me! They took my father, home, mother, and friends. They took my freedom and my wife. They took my child, Zeb! They took everything because they were strong and I was too weak to protect them but no more. I have my own power and I will kill or die to protect what is mine!”

With that declaration, Azerick turned and stalked out of the ruined gates, snatched a spear from the hand of a surprised guard, and headed out of the town towards the mountains.

Mayor Remkin sidled up next to Zeb. “That is a troubled young man. I will pray for his safe return.”

Zeb turned and looked at the fat mayor. “You better pray that he finds his things if he does,” Zeb told him then started issuing orders to his men.

It took two days to get everything loaded onto the ship along with Zeb, Toron, his original crew, and several young men from Riverdale that decided they wanted something more in their lives than farming. Zeb and his men traded every bit of gold and uncut gems they had collected from the fallen bodies of the cavern gnomes to purchase the iron ore they were going to trade farther downriver.

Azerick put the town to his back and made in the direction of his stolen property. He was sick and tired of someone always taking from him the things that were most important. Murderers had taken his parents, Travis’s foolish actions had taken away his school, Xornan had taken away his love, and now this dragon dared to take away his books and few magical items, and his chance at living a peaceful life in this valley.

He stopped and turned at the sound of someone calling his name. Anna ran up to him, breathing hard from the exertion of catching up to him.

“Anna, I’m sorry I completely forgot about you. I want to apologize for my behavior once again.”

“No, Azerick, it is I who must apologize. Zeb told me what happened to you and I am so sorry. If I had known of your loss, I would not have thrown myself at you. I am not sorry for liking you but I understand that this was a bad time for you.”

“Please do not think it had anything to do with you. You are lovely, kind, and smart, much like Delinda was and it confused me. I still should not have reacted as I did. If things were different, if I were not so messed up in my head, I would never have pushed you away.”

“I understand. Please be careful,” she told him, stretched up onto her toes, and kissed him once again. “For luck.”

She turned away and ran back towards the town before he could think of anything to say. Azerick watched her for several minutes before he resumed walking in the direction of his stolen property.

CHAPTER
9

One of the first things he had learned about magic was that a mage was capable of imbuing his more valuable possessions with trace magic that would allow him or her to know precisely where it was once they got close enough. Magus Allister had taught him that rather painful lesson when he was still nothing more than a street rat. A clever street rat but a street rat nonetheless.

After three days of hiking, Azerick knew that he was getting close. He could feel his trace magic, albeit very faintly. He had climbed the foothills and followed the base of the mountains westward. At the rate he could feel the magical emanations increasing, he estimated that he would find their location shortly before sundown.

He spotted the large cave set a couple hundred feet up the steep-sided face of the mountain. As he climbed the treacherous rock-strewn slope, he prayed that the dragon would not be home and he could simply walk in and take back his things.

As usual, his prayers went unanswered as a deep voice rumbled out of the cave mouth with the tone of an avalanche. “You are very foolish or very stupid, little sorcerer.”

“I’m a sorcerer not a—oh, never mind,” Azerick responded, cutting short his clarification.

“So which is it that brings you to seek your death on my mountain?” the dragon asked.

“No one has ever called me stupid before, quite the opposite. So if I had to choose I guess I would have to go with foolishness,” Azerick replied much more calmly than he felt.

“You are fortunate, I have just finished a rather large meal and am in no mood to exert even the minimal amount of effort it would take to crush you,” the dragon rumbled sleepily.

Azerick surveyed his surroundings, looking for anything that might provide him with any kind of advantage. He stood next to a huge boulder the size of a carriage that must have fallen from the high cliff face that rose above the dragon’s cave some centuries back.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” Azerick replied.

“And why is that?” the dragon asked, his curiosity piqued.

“You took some things from the town of Riverdale that belongs to me. I would like to have them back.”

A deep rumbling emitted from the cave opening that Azerick interpreted as laughter. “Anything within my cave belongs to me, just as anything that comes into my valley. I will allow you to leave since you have thus far provided me with amusement, but you amuse me no longer.”

“I will make you a deal. I do not care one wit about the things you have taken from the town or its people or whatever else you may have collected. Just let me have my things back and I will not trouble you any longer,” Azerick compromised.

“So you will
allow
me to keep the things I have taken if I return what was once yours?” the dragon asked in angry disbelief. “What arrogance, what presumption! The only thing being allowed here is my allowing you to live and that gift I now choose to revoke. I will show you what you have the power to
allow
!”

Azerick heard the scrape of claws and scales on stone. A slight wind picked up as the dragon filled its huge lungs full of air. The sorcerer stepped behind the large boulder just as the dragon stretched its long neck out and breathed a massive jet of flame. Azerick could feel the incredible heat of the blast as it splashed against the boulder. He could feel the rock heating up and cracking under the awesome fiery assault.

Azerick prepared a spell he had been practicing since his arrival in the valley. It was one that he had studied the description of in the great tome that he was so desperate to get back. He called back out to the dragon once more from the short-term safety of the massive boulder.

“Last chance, dragon; just give me back my stuff. There is no need for us to do battle!”

He heard the dragon drawing another great breath and jump out from behind his stone barrier. He released his spell just as the dragon’s head stretched out of the cave and began spewing another burst of incendiary flames.