The Sorcerer's Ascension (24 page)

The magus shook his head. "Alleel was confident that it was men and not beasts, sire. I was also able to see what she saw in the last few moments of her life and concur with her observations."

"I haven't the men to spare on these lark hunts without anything to show for it. We must find a way to recover at least part of Dundalor's Armor. If we cannot control it in its entirety, we can at least prevent my enemies from acquiring the complete suit. Gentlemen, we must obtain that armor at any cost," the king insisted.

"Of course, Your Majesty, but who else can we send? Your special guard is already severely short on men and the blackguard is in even more dire shape. It will take years to train and replace the slain blackguards, and their numbers were never great to begin with. I fear if we send anymore of your personal guard that your enemies may risk the chance of open war or send an assassin," the hawk-faced bishop warned.

The weary king rubbed the slight stubble on his face before speaking. "I must think on this, thank you for bringing me news, magus. Allow me to ponder this alone for now, but if you conceive of any way to alleviate this problem please come to me soonest. You two are my closest advisors, and I need your good counsel, now more than ever."

The King dismissed his two advisors and slumped back down in his chair, swirling his wine, and thinking on the unfortunate events just brought to him.

*****

Azerick sat on his pallet, a glittering pile of jewels between his legs. He knew he could get a good price from Azeel, assuming that the merchant had that much money on hand, which he certain he had despite Azeel’s constant lamenting about his dire financial straits. He would have to. Azerick did not know how much everything he needed was going to cost, but poison like the one he required did not come cheap and neither did the alchemic equipment needed to make it.

Azerick had considered buying the poison outright, avoiding the cost of the equipment and saving a bit of gold, but he feared to leave a trail of any kind that someone could follow back to him. If the thieves’ guild ever so much as assumed that he played a part with what he was going to do he knew his life would be forfeit. Assuming he even succeeded.

Exhaustion came on him with surprising suddenness now that the rush of excitement, and maybe just a bit of fear, had worn off. He scooped his loot back into his bag and instantly fell asleep.

Morning came quickly and Azerick rolled off his pallet to start his day. At least he assumed it was morning. He really needed to get an hourglass or clock of some kind. He decided to wait a few days before seeing Azeel with last evening’s haul, but his stomach reminded him that he needed to get some food. He decided to take one of the more simple gold chain necklaces to pawn and get himself enough money to stock his larder for a at least a few days.

He went to the merchant’s shop and Azeel broke into a big grin as soon as he saw who had entered.

“Ah, my favorite customer comes back. I heard that your late evening meal turned out especially well.”

“I am sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Azeel.”

“Oh really? I thought maybe it was you who dined on some minor lord’s fare last night up in the rich quarter. I heard the meat was especially fine, but the guards and their dogs found it a bit too spicy for their taste. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, young sir?” Azeel asked under his bushy raised eyebrows.

“As it so happens, I found the food especially tasty once a little special seasoning was added. In fact I found it so good, I brought you back an appetizer,” Azerick said grinning and handed the gold chain over to Azeel’s waiting palm.

“Hmmm, that does look good.”

Azeel broke out a small balance scale, placed the gold chain in one of the small brass disks and started placing small iron weights on the other. Once the scale reached its balance, Azeel gave him a price.

“It’s a nice chain, decent weight, good gold if somewhat plain. I’ll give you three gold pieces for it.”

“I’ll take it, but that makes us square for that horrid spice you sold me.”

The fence tried to act offended but accepted. “Bah, that’s hard bargain for good spice but alright. So this is just an appetizer you say, and from what I’ve heard, a tiny little bite it is eh?”

“Yes, it is a very tiny bite and rather plain in flavor compared to the rest. Do you think you will have the money to cover it or will I need to see someone else?” Azerick asked.

Azeel frantically waved his hands. “No no, don’t go anywhere else with it, just wait a couple weeks. I already had a constable asking about it when I opened up, but don’t you worry about old Azeel being short of coin. I want that meal and every course served. I am the only one who will come close to giving you a fair price. What are you going to do with that much gold anyway, if I may be so bold to ask?”

“I have to buy some equipment for my studies that are going to cost quite a bit, the rest, if there is any left, will get me through the winter in reasonable comfort.”

Azeel’s face took on a very interested expression. “What kind of equipment do you think is going to cost that kind of gold? If you tell me, perhaps we can come to an agreement that will benefit us both eh.”

“I need a complete alchemic set. I have a book on alchemy and I wanted to start working with it. I don’t want to be a thief forever and anyone who can brew some decent potions can make a pretty good living for an honest man,” Azerick answered with only a half lie.

“Mayhap I can get you this and we can make a good deal. Maybe with less coin leaving both of our pockets eh? You come back in about ten days and we show each other what we got and make a good deal.”

“Sounds good to me. Take care, Azeel. Oh and Azeel, not one word to anyone about the jewelry or that equipment, right?”

“The only thing greater than Azeel’s honesty is his discretion, gods be witness if I am lying,” the fence replied.

Azerick left the pawnbroker pondering his words and was unable to determine if they were reassuring or not. After a few minutes, he gave it up as a mystery that only time would answer. With a coin pouch fuller than he has had in some time, Azerick headed to the market district. Once there, he loaded up enough food that he had to buy another bag to carry it all.

He stuffed the bag full with a smoked ham, several loaves of fresh bread, wheels of cheese, fresh fruits, and a few vegetables on top. He also bought a kettle, tea, coffee, sugar, salt, pepper, and a few other seasonings he was not familiar with but the merchant assured him was necessary for decent food, but definitely none of Azeel’s spicy red pepper made its way into the bag.

He took all this back to his home, taking a circuitous route and constantly looking over his shoulder. Occasionally he would duck into an alley or a doorway and wait to see if anyone passed by who may be trailing him, but no one ever did. Over the next several days, he turned it into a routine that he would maintain with exceptional vigilance. No one must ever discover his lair.

Once safely ensconced in his home he packed the cupboard he had made full with the food he had bought. There was a small stove built into the wall that vented its smoke into the sewer. Azerick figured this was rather clever, thinking it being the best place for a chimney with the least likelihood of discovery. He would really need it come full winter. It was already starting to get cold in the evenings. He boiled some water in his new kettle, made some tea, and settled in for a couple weeks of routine boredom while the Watch’s aggressive investigation of the break-in slowly ground down to a crawl and was eventually filed as unsolved.

Azerick let two weeks pass before he brought the rest of his cache to Azeel. He had stopped by on occasion and was assured by the merchant that he would have what he was looking for when Azerick brought in the jewelry.

He made his way through the city once again, picking his way randomly through the squatters’ quarter then navigating through the common quarter to Azeel’s with his precious prize stuffed inside his shirt. Azerick found it remarkable that so much wealth so easy to conceal and transport. He wondered to himself why people would place such value on what were essentially useless items. Gems were nothing more than pretty bits of glass. Gold was useless for forging blades or armor. They were valuable to him only because he would be able to get something of true worth—revenge and justice.

Azerick finally reached Azeel’s shop and went inside once he saw the last customer leave. Azeel flashed him his usual friendly smile and immediately walked past him and bolted the door.

“You have it today, don’t you boy? Let’s see what you have for Azeel eh.”

“You have what I asked for?”

“Of course, my friend, of course. What Azeel says he will get he gets,” the fence said with an incredulous look, as if anyone should ever doubt him. “Here, it is a very nice set,” he said and placed a small trunk on the table.

The trunk was about thirty inches long, twenty inches tall, and eighteen inches deep. Some sort of reptile skin covered the case, silver cusps protected the corners, and it possessed an elaborately engraved ivory handle secured at the top.

“Behold every alchemist’s dream,” he said as he popped open the silver clasps that held the two sides together, with a flourish.

Inside was the grandest set of glassware Azerick had ever seen. A crystal-clear retort, beakers, glass rods, three sizes of hourglasses, some clear glass containers, opaque ceramic containers, a small balance scale with counter weights, oil-fueled burners, rubber hoses, glass tubes, and a marble mortar and pestle. It took Azerick all of his will to resist showing his amazement and giving Azeel the upper hand in their inevitable negotiations.

“I think it will suffice, although it is a bit more than I was thinking of; cumbersome-looking really,” Azerick said and even managed a yawn just for affect.

A broad grin stretched across Azeel’s swarthy face. “Oh ho, you have started the duel already, have you? Very well, let me see this paste and tin you call jewelry. Mayhap you will have to do a second run to earn this magnificent glass and crystal.”

Azerick pulled the small bag of jewels out of his shirt and spread them out on the counter. He had spent several hours polishing the gold, silver, and each stone they held to a brilliant shine.

“It is fortunate we are inside your gloomy shop and not outside lest the brilliance of these dazzling stones burn out your eyes. Might be that you will have to take out a second mortgage on whatever shanty you call a house to even make me a fair offer, even with that scullery maid's cookware you have in that fish scaled box.”

“A shack, you say! Azeel is no street rat taking shelter in whatever shipping crate he can drag off to an alley to sleep in! I own, own mind you, a beautiful home of stone, plaster, and marble! Why Azeel’s neighbors are none other than counselor
Trant
and
Barishan
the money lender!” Azeel squealed with indignity, his face coloring brightly.

“Good, then you should have no problem meeting my price for this rare collection. I bet your wife is looking quite forward to wearing a few of the pieces herself,” Azerick slyly replied.

Azeel turned even more scarlet as his eyes crossed and his heavy brows drew together before bursting out in loud raucous laughter.

“You got me, boy, right in the pride! Oh the humility, the great barterer Azeel is brought down by a lowly street rat not old enough to shave.”

“I could shave if I wanted to!” Azerick cried with indignation as he rubbed the soft hint of stubble on his chin.

“Yes yes, lad, sure you can. Maybe in a year or two Azeel will gift you with a nice razor eh.”

Azerick and Azeel haggled over the price that Azeel would pay in addition to the fantastic alchemic set. The crafty fence finally relented; agreeing that the jewelry was all of exquisite quality and gave Azerick an amount that was close to what he had wanted, which was very good haggling on the youth’s part.

Azerick left Azeel with an impressive amount of gold and lugging his newest and finest acquisition. He took a route back to his home that was far from direct but kept him away from the general populace, praying that he did not run into Hugo and his band. He would defend his precious cargo with his life though preferably with someone else’s life. He would gut all three of them rather than give up the alchemic set. However, luck was with him for a change. He made it back to his lair safely, using all his guile and security sense to ensure no one followed him.