The sorcerers scourge, p.33
The Sorcerer's Scourge, page 33
part #5 of The Sorcerer's Path Series
“You gave a nice speech, Jarvin, but do not let it go to your head,” the sorcerer warned, his face devoid of any humor.
Jarvin merely smiled. “Impertinent as ever. Don’t get your smallclothes in a twist. I would not dream of forcing you. Ah, Mr. Donnigan, you are just the man I wanted to see.”
“Hm, don’t hear that much unless I owe someone money.”
“How fares End’s Run?” the King asked.
“You mean what’s left of it. We burned half of it to the ground fighting those things. Would’a lost everybody maybe if the wolves hadn’t showed up.”
“Wolves?” Allister asked.
Donnigan grunted. “Yeah. Damndest thing you ever saw. The whole town was pressed near the center, half the buildings in town on fire, and the wolves found an open gate and started tearing into them things. Hundreds of them if I were to guess their numbers. Fog lifted and the wolves disappeared with it. I reckon they didn’t like the way those dead things smelled and took them as a greater threat than us humans.”
Jarvin took a deep breath and asked the question that had been plaguing his mind since the fog appeared. “And my family, Mr. Donnigan?”
“They’re fine. First thing I looked in on after the fog cleared. The men I had watching em said them things seemed to avoid the manor. Guess Landrin hexed it or something.”
“That is good news. And how is Lord Bailey?”
The chief enforcer shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not a clue. He left right after you all. Told me he had something to attend to. I didn’t ask what.”
“I am sure he had good reason to leave.”
Jarvin motioned to a guard who poked his head out of the tent and said something to someone outside. A minute later, another guard ushered Bishop Caalendor into the tent and forced him to sit in a chair. Donnigan’s face showed no reaction to the fact that the clergyman looked like horses had stampeded him.
“This was Bishop Caalendor,” Jarvin explained. “He is now branded a traitor and stripped of all titles and rights. He has information I need. Unfortunately, I do not have a proper inquisitor on hand and refuse to bring him anywhere near Brelland or any other civilized town within my kingdom.”
“You gave me your word of a truce when those monsters struck!” Caalendor protested through spilt and puffy lips.
Jarvin bent down and pressed his face within inches of the cleric’s. “Much as you have done to me for the past ten years—I lied.” He turned back to Donnigan. “I need the names of every one of his conspirators. Can you do that?”
Donnigan smiled a very unfriendly smile. “Hell, tell me your favorite song and I’ll have him singing them to its tune.”
“Excellent. I will give him into your capable hands and notify my quartermaster to send some pigeons with you to message me when you have it.”
“What do you want me to do with him after?”
Jarvin stared balefully at the priest for a moment. “Hang him for a traitor.”
Donnigan broke character and laughed heartily.
“You find something amusing, Mr. Donnigan?”
The man wiped a tear from his eye and replied, “Sorry, it’s just that the gallows Lord Bailey had built were one of the few things that didn’t burn.” He nudged Caalendor’s chair leg with his boot. “Lucky for you, eh? Sorry, folks always told me I had a gallows humor. Guess they were right.”
Donnigan had come to see how the King and his army fared and to deliver news of End’s Run and his family. Now that he had, he took control of the former bishop and started back on the two-day ride to End’s Run.
Jarvin and the remainder of the army marched south to Brelland while Azerick and everyone that accompanied him from the school rode for North Haven. He could not put his finger on it, but an urge to be home pulled him. Azerick prayed something had not happened to Miranda or the school.
He had so many people to care about now, and for a moment, wondered if the potential for so much pain was worth it. Yes, it was. His doubts were the old him talking. The him that shielded himself in loneliness and solitude. The him that was willing to sacrifice true happiness for emotional security. He had love now and soon he would have a child to raise and spoil. He would not trade a single second of that for his own selfish desire of emotional security.
CHAPTER 20
Ellyssa had been heartbroken to see her two best friends in the hands of these terrible people . They now suffered the same fate as she did, and Ghost was dead because of her. She was so devastated at being the cause of so much suffering that she could not even summon the strength to dread they day's training. Ellyssa plodded mindlessly to the training pit, unable to even summon enough self-pity to fear what she would be forced to do today. Considering how she felt right now, Ellyssa doubted that she could summon the appropriate amount of remorse for whomever she was forced to kill.
She knew her training had taken on a new role the instant she stepped into the training pit. Misha was there, as usual, but she was accompanied by the wizards Dorran and Bheram as well. Ellyssa was uncertain what was about to happen, but she knew it would not bode well for her. She approached Misha and made a slight bow as she had been taught.
"I am ready for my training, Chain Mistress."
The woman gave her a condescending smile. "I seriously doubt that. You have learned how to kill, however reluctantly. We shall work on destroying that annoying conscience you still possess later. Now we shall see what you know about using your gift in a real battle. You will fight the three of us, and we shall gauge your battle prowess."
Ellyssa swallowed hard and failed to keep the trembling from her voice. "Chain Mistress, I cannot hope to defeat you all."
Misha laughed at the absurdity of the girl's comment. "Child, you could not defeat us individually. We will observe your technique and your ability to strike and defend. Go stand over there and begin when you are ready."
Ellyssa trudged through the sandy floor of the training pit, dragging her feet in sullen resignation of the pain and humiliation she was about to receive. All three mages were full wizards and, despite her natural strength in magic, she knew she could not hope to overcome even one of them. Even the youngest amongst them has likely been practicing magic longer than she has been alive. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. She kept repeating that in her mind, making herself angrier with each repetition. Ellyssa clung to that anger and fed it. She would use it to power her spell. She knew that she could not beat them, but maybe she could hurt one of them. Bheram looked to be the youngest and likely the weakest of the three.
Ellyssa drew in the Source as she walked toward the spot Misha had indicated. She turned back towards the three wizards and immediately began forming the weave of her spell. Ellyssa pulled so much power from the Source it felt as though her skin was on fire and it made her hair stand on end. It was a strike of pure force, much like the one she had tried to kill the Vila with when she was first brought before him. She shaped the strike in the form of a large cone, broad at its back to act as mass with a very narrow striking surface to help pierce a magical ward.
Bheram let out a short bark of exclamation when he understood the nature of the spell and that he was its intended target. The Sumaran brought up his strongest ward in the split second it took for the spell to leave the girl's fingers and cross the hundred and fifty feet or so of open ground. Even so, the spell hit him with enough force to send him tumbling backwards. Had Dorran not also brought up a shield, it very likely would have seriously injured him, if not killed him outright.
Ellyssa had little time to revel in her small victory. She had put all her strength into that one spell and could even now feel her legs failing her. Misha paid the two men no mind and immediately lashed out with a similar spell even as the girl began to crumple to the ground. The force of the strike sent Ellyssa flying back several feet and rolling in the sand. Before the pain could register in her brain, several more strikes rolled her across the arena like a ball being kicked around by children. Ellyssa was certain that just one more blow would send her blissfully into the darkness of unconsciousness, or even death. Misha was not about to let her off that easily.
When Ellyssa was finally able to open her eyes, she saw a pair of feet in front of her face and followed them up with her eyes until she found the Chain Mistress's scowling visage.
"I do not even know where to begin to explain how stupid you are," Misha snarled. "You faced three opponents and yet you put all your strength into striking just one. You used so much of your energy for that single spell that you were completely unable to defend yourself from a counter attack."
Ellyssa took a shuddering breath and replied, "I wasn't strong enough to beat you all, so I thought I might be able to take at least one of you with me."
"Martyrdom is for morons. A dead wizard slays no foes. I told you before that you were not as strong as any of us. When we face King Yusuf do you think we will have the advantage of numbers? Of course not. That is why we must be smarter! Now pick yourself up, go to my library, and study. We will try again in a few days, and you had better learn something in that time or I will make you pray to return to the pain you feel right now."
Ellyssa could not stifle the cry of pain that passed her lips as she struggled to her feet. It took all of her strength and stubborn pride just to walk out of the training pit erect. She refused to show weakness in front of these people. Especially Misha. Dorran and Bheram watched the young girl trudge stiffly away and then approached the dour Chain Mistress.
"Damn that girl can hit hard," Bheram said. "I think she would have killed me had Dorran not added his ward to mine."
Misha spun on the younger wizard and snapped, "And you would have deserved it for being weak and unprepared. "We all saw how strong she was from the beginning. Now she just needs to learn how to channel that strength properly."
"You had best hope she breaks before she does, or you may regret that statement," Dorran said, smiling. "She still defies you inside and will kill you the first chance she gets."
"If she did not, I would not be doing my job properly. I have no worries and neither should you. I have never failed to break someone. She will break. In the end, they all break."
It was all Ellyssa could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. All she wanted to do was curl up on the marble floor and weep. It almost came as a surprise when she looked up and found herself standing in front of Misha's personal library. To call it a library was giving it a lot of credit. The room was entirely devoted to the study of magic. Of the three bookcases stuffed with tomes of various sizes but not one space was wasted on things like poetry or politics. Every book and every scroll served a single purpose―to learn magic and how to use it in battle.
She had been in this room before, fetching books and running errands while Misha poured over the texts to find answers for the Vila or to increase her own formidable knowledge. Despite having had her hands on many of the books during her service, she had never been allowed to actually use the books herself. The bookcase on the left was devoted almost entirely to spell books and scrolls detailing the patterns and components of an untold number of spells.
Ellyssa pulled out several books and sat down with them at a small table in the corner of the room. Misha would be back soon, and Ellyssa wanted very much to be as unobtrusive as any other piece of furniture in the room. Unless the Chain Mistress came in here looking for her, it was unlikely they would cross paths. Misha's suite of rooms covered more floor space than Azerick's original tower.
Misha told her that she needed to be smarter not stronger, so she scanned page after page looking for spells that could give her an advantage and did not require enormous amounts of power or skill to use. Ellyssa recalled some of the stories Azerick had shared, how he had defeated opponents stronger than himself by being clever with what he knew. He had defeated the Headmaster of The Academy, a man that was probably at least as powerful as Misha was. She was under no illusion that she was another Azerick, but that did not mean she could not learn and take lessons from what he had accomplished.
It did not take long for Ellyssa's eyes to ache nearly as much as her body, but she refused to relent to fatigue. Her stubborn determination would not allow her to rest. It was not until late that evening that Misha finally made her inevitable appearance.
"I am pleased to see that you did not return to your room to lick your wounds and wallow in self-misery. Have you eaten?"
"No, Chain Mistress," Ellyssa responded without looking up from the book in front of her.
"Good. I am glad you are taking this seriously. I shall have food brought to you. I want you to be in top form when you show me what you have learned."
True to her word, a servant arrived bearing a tray of food only a few minutes after she departed. Ellyssa was starving, but she knew if she ate too much too quickly it would make her sleepy. She was not ready to end her studies just yet, so Ellyssa picked at the food as she absorbed the knowledge contained within the books spread out before her. Ellyssa finally surrendered to her body's incessant demand for sleep far later than she normally would have. She used to go to sleep early just to escape the day and pray that the morrow brought her freedom.
Ellyssa rose as early as her body would allow, which protested yesterday's abuse with every movement and inhalation. She grabbed a tray of finger food from the kitchen and went immediately to Misha's quarters. She did not see the Chain Mistress that morning and only received a few brief visits in the following days. By the third day of Ellyssa's exhaustive studies, she thought she may have found some spells that she could shape into an effective defense.
She stole out into the training pit after most the palace had gone to bed. Ellyssa wanted her new skills to come as a surprise. She knew the only way she could hope to break through even one of the elder wizards' wards was if she put everything she had into the spell, and Ellyssa learned a painful lesson in that regard. She decided she would rely on illusion and transmutation to conceal herself and hopefully confound her foes. It took two more days of study and nights of exhausting practice before Ellyssa felt her skill sufficient enough to have even a marginal chance at success. Misha afforded her one more day of study before telling Ellyssa her time was up.
"I have grown bored waiting for you," the Chain Mistress said as she entered the room. "If you have not learned anything by now, you likely never will. Meet us in the pit in an hour."
Ellyssa fought to control the butterflies that fluttered madly inside her stomach as she made a few last minute mental notes and made the long walk to the training pits. Just as it was the last time; Misha, Dorran, and Bheram were all waiting for her by the time she arrived. Bheram especially looked eager for the rematch. Ellyssa was determined to change his mind about that.
She did not bother waiting for instructions and simply paced out across the floor near to the spot of her previous inglorious defeat. The three wizards fanned out, putting twenty or thirty feet of space between them. Ellyssa wondered if they thought she would try to take them all out with an area spell after learning what happened when she focused her strength on just one and ignored the other two. It didn't matter. She doubted that the other wizards expected what she had planned. Any margin of success was going to require all of her skill and more luck than she thought even Azerick possessed, but Ellyssa was determined to not be embarrassed a second time.
Ellyssa took a deep breath to steady her nerves then began casting, furiously moving her hands and fingers to shape the invisible strands of energy into the form of her spell. She saw the other three wizards also forming their own spells. She was certain they were wards. It was the standard practice of every spell caster since an unshielded body would quickly be destroyed.
The young mage's spell was not very complex, and Ellyssa got it off nearly as quickly as the others were able to effect their wards. A miniature sandstorm erupted in the heart of the training pit, obscuring all vision as the sand that comprised the floor was whipped about by the strong wind brought forth by Ellyssa's spell. It took only a moment for Ellyssa to feel the strands of her spell being plucked apart by Misha and the other two wizards.
In only a few seconds, the sandy tempest subsided and Ellyssa was caught in open ground, obviously going for Bheram once again. Misha smiled as she shaped a ball of ice the size of a small melon and sent it streaking out towards the unprepared girl. The startled young mage raised her arms as if to ward off the missile with her hands. Ellyssa's ward flared as it failed to keep the ice ball from smashing into her body and sent her tumbling into a sprawled heap upon the ground.
Not only did Misha's spell shatter the wizard's ward and smash several ribs, it also destroyed the illusion Ellyssa had cast upon poor Bheram who now lay unmoving just a few yards from where she now stood wearing an illusion of the defeated mage. Both Misha and Dorran stared dumbly at their fallen comrade for moment, which was enough time for Ellyssa to cast her next spell.
A vaguely humanoid construct made from the material of the pit floor reared up just in front of and towered over Dorran. The wizard took an involuntary step backward and fell into the pit from which the construct was created. The sand man fell atop the prostrate wizard and buried him beneath several feet of sand, dirt, and gravel.
Misha did not pause a second time. The Chain Mistress frantically waved her arms and sent a swarm of flaming darts streaking out at the young upstart who had just laid waste to two of her more prominent associates. Ellyssa gestured furtively and raised a wall of sand in front of her an instant before the fiery darts would have scorched and shredded her. She could feel the heat through the wall and saw several spots in the surface turn to glass.
Misha watched the wall fall in a shower of sand and glass, but Ellyssa was nowhere to be seen. The child was obviously using another of her clever illusions to conceal herself. The Chain Mistress was about to show the girl the futility of her tactic by bombarding the entire training ground with a shower of conjured stones when numerous columns of sand erupted all around her, each looking like her angry, young charge made of sandstone. Misha knew that only one of them was the real girl, who obviously thought to confound her and get her to expend precious energy destroying each of the simulacrums while she would likely strike from behind. Misha would teach the young upstart another painful lesson.
