The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) (30 page)

Azerick looked down at the trapped creature appearing to be hanging on his every word. “I’ll tell you when: the day I was born a human. My sense of justice, right, and wrong demanded I not sit idle. My ability to enforce it gave me leave to do so. That’s a human trait as well. So I did and so I will continue to do until someone or something stronger stops me. Something tells me your kind is the undisputed rulers of this world.” He looked up at the tree tops. “Except maybe those awful things. If there is something bigger and meaner than you, I sure don’t want to meet it. Then I came along and upset the status quo. Who will kick me off the top of my mountain? The Scions? Maybe, but I have an entire world fighting with me. I cannot lose that battle. Power requires a balance or it becomes a force of destruction. I am the balance against the Scions and they against me, but what happens when they are gone? Who will provide the balance? My son? Which one? Raijaun has the power if he ever acknowledges it, but I do not think he could find the heart to kill me. Daebian surely has the heart to do it, and the gods only know if he has the power. If your child was nearly as vexing as Daebian I think I may have done you a favor. Forgive me, I am in an ill mood, and I should not make light of your loss. Would you like to hear how I ended up here? We have nothing but time, and you seem to be a willing listener. It all started when I was a boy in Southport…”

CHAPTER 15

A tense silence lay over the city of North Haven like a funeral shroud. The walls swarmed with soldiers, and armed civilians trained as militia garrisoned the streets. Heavy ballistae and catapults stood like giants ready to hurl boulders and spears at the approaching enemy horde. Those unable to fight waited in their homes, many camping near the magical gate ready to flee with the few possessions they are allowed to bring with them.

Miranda stood in gleaming scale mail atop the castle battlements and stared out across the sea, willing her eyes to see something she prayed would never arrive. Her mother and General Brague stood with her, equally prepared for battle. It was the third day since she had abandoned the school, her home, and relocated to the city. She spotted Raijaun approach out of the corner of her eye but did not turn her gaze away from the horizon.

“Have you had any luck spying our enemy?” she asked.

Raijaun stepped to the battlement and towered over her. “No. We have tried, but none of us are able to pierce the veil with which the Scions have cloaked their army, but they are near. I can feel it.”

“What of your father?”

Raijaun shook his head. “We still cannot locate him.”

“Damn fine time for him to take a vacation,” the General muttered.

Miranda spun on the man and punched him in his breastplate, her gauntleted hand eliciting the sharp ringing of steel on steel. “Azerick has risked his life many times over for this city and its people! If there was any way he could be here then he would be here!”

Duchess Mellina laid a hand on her daughter’s arm. “We know that, dear. We are all under a great deal of stress and are worried about him.”

“I know I just…damn him! Damn him and his idiotic ideas! I told him he was being foolish. I told him this was going to happen.”

“Then it must have been very important for him to take the risk.” The Duchess looked to Raijaun. “You said they were close. Should we start moving the people through the gates now?”

“It is ill-advised,” Raijaun answered. “The Scions will certainly sense the operation of the gates, discern their purpose, and know where they lead. If we activate them too soon, they could split their forces and attack Brelland. If we allow them to divide us, we will certainly perish.”

“There are over sixty thousand people crammed into the city right now,” General Brague pointed out. “It is going to take time to get them all through. If we wait for them to attack, a lot of people could die waiting to get through.”

“Some people will die. It is inevitable, but if we act too soon more will perish.”

“You sound as dispassionate as your father!”

“I am as pragmatic as my father.”

“Gregory, just because Azerick is not here does not mean you can pick a fight with my grandson to make yourself feel better.”

The General looked abashed and cast his eyes to the stones beneath his feet. “Yes, dear.”

“You are getting restless. Why don’t you go check on our defenses and inspire some morale in our troops?”

“Yes, dear.”

Miranda watched the General depart and turned to her mother. “How long have you and General Brague been…close?”

“He has been family since before you were born, but I suppose you mean in a more intimate manner.”

“Intimate?”

“I am old, not dead. Now wipe that smirk off your face.”

“I am happy for you both, and you are not old, Mother.”

“And likely not going to get there either thanks to these damned gods and their minions.”

“We will prevail. Azerick will come back, and he will not let them win. Not even the abyss was able to hold him and keep him from me, and these creatures won’t either.”

The Duchess put her arm around her daughter and gave her a reassuring hug. It was a warm sentiment despite all the metal and leather. Miranda stared out across the ocean and thought of her son, praying he was safe. He was smart and resourceful. With any luck, he had already taken a ship and sailed far to the south. The harbor was nearly bereft of ships as many families chose to sail as far to the south and west as possible in hopes of avoiding the war. No one had tried to stop them. Azerick even allowed several of his captains and crew to load their families aboard his ships and set sail for what they prayed was safety. Azerick knew their attempt was futile. There was no safe place on this world, but he let them go instead of destroying their faith.

“I too am feeling restless,” Miranda said, breaking the silence. “I think I will go down to the city and see if there is anything I can do.”

“All right. It will be good for the people to see you. Just be careful and get back. Remember what your husband told you. The kingdom will need leaders like you to rebuild.”

“They will need you too,” Miranda reminded her mother.

Miranda descended the wooden steps leading from the battlements and entered the city. The old class boundaries were gone with soldiers, refugees, and defenses filling the wealthier district’s streets just as they did the lower wards. Families huddled under meager shelters, many nothing more than sail cloth stretched between neighboring rooftops and alleys. One of the few things Miranda was able to be grateful for was that the siege was not occurring in the winter. If they had to fight the elements as well as the Scions, the death toll would have likely already started.

She waved and smiled at the people she passed, giving reassurances as best she could to ease the overwhelming fear of the populace. Miranda made her way through the upper district to the center of the city where the gate, their only true source of salvation, no matter how temporary, lay. The streets became noticeably more congested. The people knew this was where they would flee, and no one wanted to be at the back of the line despite the fear of using the magical device.

The crowd became increasingly agitated the closer she got to the gate and soon became a mob clearly on the edge of violence. Miranda was pushed and squeezed by the press of bodies trying to get to the gate, demanding they be activated and allowed to pass. It took a great deal of shoving, demanding, and sometimes a well-placed punch to get to the front where ranks of soldiers used their spears and shields to hold back the tide of terrified citizens. She tried to push past the soldiers and received a bash from one man’s shield. Only the crowd of people behind her kept her from falling, a potentially lethal proposition despite her armor as the teaming mass would crush her underfoot.

She pushed forward once again and grabbed the top of the soldier’s shield as he made to shove her once more. “Soldier!”

The man’s eyes widened in recognition. “Lady Miranda, I did not see you!” He grabbed the daughter of North Haven and pulled her behind him.

Miranda found an officer, one she recognized from the school. “Lieutenant, what is happening here?”

“The people are demanding to go through the gate. I have orders not activate it until commanded by my superiors to do so. I tried to tell these people, but they don’t want to listen.”

“They’re afraid, Lieutenant.”

“So am I and not just of the invaders!”

“I’ll try to talk to them.”

Miranda found one of the mages tasked with guarding and operating the gate. “Maira, I need your help to talk to these people.”

The Sumaran mumbled a couple words, made a quick gesture, and nodded. Miranda climbed atop a barricade and called out over the crowd’s tumultuous voices.

“People, you must remain calm!” Her voice boomed out over the crowd, stunning most of them into silence. “If we let fear drive us, we open the doors to our enemy.”

A large man dressed in the clothes of a successful merchant called out. “We hear these creatures will soon be tearing the doors down, and we don’t want to be here when they do!”

“I understand your fear, but we cannot activate the gate yet. If we do, the Scions might be able to track us to Brelland and send a large number of their forces there where we would be unprepared to meet them.”

“We have families! You cannot keep us locked up in here like sheep waiting for slaughter!”

“We all have families, and we are all scared. It is for their sakes we must remain calm and lead by example.”

“We are not going to remain calm while this horde comes in and slaughters us! We will take this gate and force you to open it if we have to!”

“People, please!” Miranda beseeched. “We have a system in place to ensure everyone gets out safely.”

“A system to get your kind out first I’ll wager!”

“There will be no distinction on who…”

A cacophonous boom shook the square, shattering windows and knocking many of the protesters to the ground.

“This city is under martial law, and you people threaten the security of the populace,” Ellyssa shouted from atop a defensive bulwark, her body wreathed in the arcing power of pent up magic. “You look to be a big boy. Why aren’t you on the wall?”

The vociferous merchant got to his feet and looked around him for support but saw mostly a sea of cowed faces. “I have a family to protect.”

“As Lady Miranda said, we all have families, and you will protect them better from atop the wall.” The stone-faced young woman looked to a group of soldiers. “You men get this and every other able-bodied man to their stations. The rest of you lot have five minutes to clear this square or I will clear it for you.”

“You have no right to order us about!”

“This war gives me the right, and my training gives me the ability. I will not allow you idiots to threaten the security of this city and the safety of its people.” Ellyssa gestured and stone spikes grew from the cobbled streets, forcing the front ranks of the crowd away lest they be skewered. “Anyone attempting to cross that picket will be executed without hesitation. Now clear these streets!”

The crowd began dispersing as soldiers pushed into their ranks, separating those able to fight. Miranda, her face burning from rage beneath her helm, stalked to the barricade upon which Ellyssa stood.

“That was unnecessary! Those people were just frightened. I did not need you to come in like a thug and bully them into submission!”

Ellyssa turned to the Lady, her face stony and dispassionate but unable to hide the fire smoldering within her eyes. “You would have stood there talking until the ravagers came and gutted the lot of you. This is not the time for talk; it is the time for action.”

“This is my city and my people!”

“Not for much longer,” Ellyssa said coldly.

Miranda visibly trembled, barely unable to contain her fury. “You used to be such a wonderful girl.”

“A lot of things used to be that will never be again.”

Ellyssa turned and walked away, leaving Miranda standing alone to stare out across her city and wonder if it was one of the things that never would be again. Tears of sorrow and anger ran down her face as she made her way back to the castle. Even that long walk did nothing to extinguish the anger burning within her. She stormed into the parlor, hurled her helm across the room, and poured a glass of wine. She drained the glass and the half-filled bottle and hurled them both against the wall.

“Something troubles you, Lady?” Raijaun asked from the open doorway.

Miranda sat down and ran her hands through her hair. “Ellyssa. There was a problem at the gates. She came storming in and threatened to kill the entire crowd if they did not disperse. They were just scared and wanted to protect their families. The last thing they need is to be brutalized by their own people.”

“You should try not to be too hard on her. Azerick’s disappearance has her shaken, and she is trying to fill his place.”

“Azerick would never treat people like that.”

“Are you sure? I think perhaps you want to remember Father the way he was, not how he is now.”

“He would never attack his own people,” Miranda defended.

“Probably not, not lethally unless absolutely necessary, and I doubt Ellyssa would have either.”

“I’m not so sure. You did not see the look in her eyes.”

“I have seen it. I have seen it in the eyes of many of us. It is the look of fear, desperation, and an unwillingness to let anything stand in the way of victory. It is the look I have seen in both Father and Daebian.”

“Daebian…I think about him all the time and pray he is somewhere safe, that he sailed far away from this chaos.”

“I fear that is very unlikely, and we will see him again before all is done. Daebian would dance and sing as the world burned around him simply because it was interesting.”

Miranda stared blankly at the wall. “Is my son truly such a monster? My heart weeps for him and screams denial, but the things he has done…”

“No, Daebian is not a monster. He is probably the most brilliant being to walk this world. Unfortunately, brilliance and madness often walk hand in hand. Daebian simply lacks the thing that keeps most everyone else from doing whatever they want to do. He is uninhibited by sentiment, guilt, or shame. He and I are very much opposites. I have the power to do almost anything, but lack the desire to do so. He has the desire but, thankfully, lacks the power. Yet in spite of that, he will likely prove a far greater threat than any of us.”