The Sorcerer's Ascension

ISBN: 978-1-4661-1953-6

Cover Illustration Copyright © 2011
Cover art by Brock E. Deskins

Copyright ©2011 Brock E. Deskins

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

To my wonderful children: Jenice, Josh, and Elissa.

Open your minds, spread your wings, and fly as high as your imagination will take you.

CHAPTER
1

Captain Darius Giles watched as his crew loaded the last of his precious cargo aboard his ship,
Storm Runner.
The trinkets, jade statuettes, ivory carvings, animal pelts, and gold jewelry as well as local pieces of art and other exotic goods would bring in a small fortune even after he paid his crew.

Two men approached him as he stood on the dock supervising the loading of his cargo. They had the hoods of their cloaks pulled up which cast their faces in shadow even though it was a clear and warm night.

“You are the captain of this vessel?” one of the men inquired.

“I am Captain Giles, what can I do for you gentlemen this evening?”

“We require transport for a piece of cargo,” the hooded stranger replied.

The ship captain looked from the men to the laden cargo net stretched taut with heavy wooden shipping crates then back. “I’m afraid I’m fully booked, sir, perhaps another ship will call to port and they can help you.”

“It is expected in Southport as soon as is possible and yours is the next ship departing. I assure you it does not require a great deal of space, only the discretion of an honorable man. I have been told that you are such a man,” the enigmatic stranger assured him, undeterred.

“I like to think so, but I would have to inspect the cargo myself so I know that it contains no contraband or illegal items. I’m a loyal King’s man and I’ll break none of his laws, especially those that could mean the loss of my ship, cargo, or life.”

“That is precisely the type of man we seek,” the hooded stranger whispered as he reached into his cloak and produced a scroll. “Look closely upon the seal, sir, and you will note that it is the King’s own.”

Captain Giles closely examined the seal and found it was either authentic or a forgery of exceeding quality. He broke the seal and read the missive by lamplight. In simple terms, it requested the services of a reliable ship captain to deliver a small container of cargo to Southport with the utmost speed and discretion. The cargo was considered to be a state secret and not to be examined by captain, crew, or customs. A second group of men would meet the captain upon arrival to Southport where he will be provided with a similar document as proof of receipt of the aforementioned cargo. Any evidence of tampering found by the receiving party would be cause for charges of treason and espionage, both of which were executable offenses.

“Alright, gentlemen, bring the crate, and if it is small enough, I will secure it in my own berth,” Captain Giles directed.

“That will do just fine, Captain,” the man said handing him a purse heavy with coin. “This should be more than sufficient payment for transport of such a small piece of cargo and your personal assurance of security.”

Twenty minutes later, the two men returned carrying a wooden crate with handles on each end. They personally carried their burden to the Captain’s quarters and secured properly. They then left without another word, disappearing back into the darkness of the foreign city’s streets.

Captain Giles decided to sleep in his cabin that night instead of celebrating with his crew on their last night in port before catching the morning tide. He was in possession of the King’s property and he would not relax his vigilance over the special cargo.

    
Storm Runner
set sail that morning with the rising tide. The large, three-masted ship caught a favorable wind and pushed steadily out to sea. It was a calm but speedy voyage as the wind proved favorable nearly the entire route. The Captain said a prayer of thanks to
Serron
, god of the sea, for their continued good fortune.

Darius had been away for months and was eager to be home again with his beautiful wife, Celeste, and young son, Azerick, just as his crew would be equally anxious to return to whomever or whatever was greatest in their own desires.

Darius let his mind drift to thoughts of his family. He thought longingly of his wife, married now for fifteen years, she still held his heart as firmly and lovingly now as she did the day they met.

His son, Azerick, was thirteen years old and as smart as any boy he had ever seen. Darius decided that he would spend some time at home and let his other captains take care of the shipping duties of his maritime trading company for a while. He would spend at least a couple years at home, and if the gods willed it, give his son a little brother or sister. It was not as though he had not tried on his previous stays at home, but this time he would devote some real time to his family instead of his work.

After all, the business was doing exceedingly well now and could run itself without his direct hand for a time. He would have to find a good captain to take over his flagship,
Storm Runner,
while he stayed landlocked for a time.

Maybe it was time to reward his first mate and promote him, as he deserved. Zeb was a good man, honest, hard working, loyal to a fault, and kept a tighter ship than any captain he employed including himself. Besides, Zeb had been a first mate since Darius himself began his sailing career. A call from the crow’s nest broke him out of his reverie.

“Sails, four points off the port bow!” cried out the lookout.

“Heading?” Captain Giles called up the sailor on watch.

“Cutting across on an intercept from the looks of it, Captain,” came the answer a full minute later.

“Arm the catapult and ballista, man the scorpions, and draw weapons. Prepare to defend the ship,” Darius ordered as he stalked across
Storm Runner’s
smoothly rolling deck.

Zeb chased after the sailors ensuring every man was armed and at his station. The crew cranked back and loaded the Ballista on the aft deck and its smaller counterparts, the scorpions. They wound the catapult on the foredeck, locking its swing arm into place, and loaded it with jars of flammable oil that they would light just before launching them at the enemy vessel if they were required to defend themselves.

“Tack three points to starboard, we’ll see if we can out run them.”

“Unknown ship tacking to match new heading, Captain, still on an intercept course,” the update came about ten minutes later.

Captain Giles cursed their suddenly ill-turning luck. “That’s all the proof I need to call them pirates, boys. If we can’t outrun them, fire as soon as they come within range and send them to
Serron
if they choose not to let us pass.”

The captain’s proclamation was met with a loud huzzah of support from his crew. The chase continued for nearly four hours before the other ship came within range. The crew of the
Storm Runner
could clearly see the pirates on the deck of the pursuing ship now aiming their own foredeck catapult. The Ballista had a greater range than the small catapult and his men started launching its meter and a half long steel-tipped shafts at the pursuing vessel.

The javelins tore through sails and any man unfortunate enough to be in the bolt’s path. It cut ropes, and even punched a hole in the upper hull when the bow swung wide and presented a flatter plane that allowed the steel tip to pierce the thick wood. The thickness and shape of the bow deflected all but the one bolt that found enough purchase to punch through the hull.

The pirate ship soon came within range to use its own catapult and began flinging chain to tear sails and foul the rigging. It also stripped men out of the rigging that had perched there with loaded crossbows, ready to unleash their quarrels on the pirates as they came within range.

“Load incendiary pots in the ballista!” Captain Giles ordered.

The faithful and fearless crew obeyed his commands instantly, replacing the heavy ballista bolt with the oil-filled pots. The jug was launched as soon as one of the sailors lit the wick. The clay pot shattered and burst into flames, wreathing the front of the boat in fire but the sea spray from the rising and plunging bow was quickly washing the oil and flames away.

The gunners raised their aim and fired a second shot that shattered onto the deck of the pursuing vessel. The crew of the
Storm Runner
cried out in triumph as the deck of the enemy vessel caught fire. Their elation was short lived as the experienced pirate crew quickly smothered the flames with sand. The burning oil was quickly extinguished and did little if any damage to the wooden structure due to the crew having soaked the deck with saltwater before engaging.

More chain shot and fist-sized stones were hurled into the rigging and rained down upon the deck of Captain Giles’ ship and crew.

“Damn these pirates, just our luck to get a pirate ship with a first class crew! Zeb, have some of the men bring up a few barrels of that demon fire from the hold,” Captain Giles ordered.

“Demon fire, Captain? Are you sure?” his first mate asked.

“Damn it, man, if I wasn’t sure I wouldn't have issued the order, now move it!”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

It was unheard of for faithful Zeb to second-guess his captain, but fire was one of the greatest fears on a ship and demon fire, or dragon’s spit as some called it, was the most flammable substance known to man. It burned so hot it could burn a man’s arm off in moments and could not be extinguished by water. In a few moments, Zeb and some of the sailors had four barrels of the volatile liquid brought to the rear of the ship.

“I want a plank strapped to each side of the stern at a downward angle. When we pour this stuff out I don’t want any of this infernal concoction to touch my ship!” Captain Giles ordered.

Zeb and his fellow sailors lashed a six-foot long, one-foot wide plank at the rear of the ship on each side to create a runnel for the heavy liquid to follow in order to keep it off their own vessel.

“Open up those barrels and pour em down the runnel, quickly now! You men grab torches and
carefully
swab a bit of that mess on to each of them and lash them to a ballista bolt. Throw those barrels over the side as soon as they are empty! ”