The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) (5 page)

“Oh, the great cow goddess comes with bad news. What a surprise!” Trielle shouted from her hiding place in the trees.

“Your tidings are irrelevant,” Bron rumbled. “Your presence is welcome no matter your reason. I am your faithful servant. Command me and I obey.”

“I knew I chose my champion well. A great evil is coming soon. Ancient gods will soon break free of their prison and seek to destroy us, most the races, and enslave the few they allow to live to serve them.”

Bron tightened his grip on his staff and fought back the rage building within him at the thought of anyone threatening his goddess. He forced calm into his heart and soul as his foster mother had taught him as a child.

“What can I do to aid you?”

“My fellow gods have each chosen their champions to spread word and make every preparation they can to combat these vile creatures. A human who helped turn back the tide of undead that you also played a great role in destroying is uniting the humans, dwarves, and elves to oppose the usurpers, but it is not enough. The brutish races must stand with them just as they did two thousand years ago, or they will fail. You must be my emissary to the ogres, goblins, and orcs. I need you to do whatever it takes to convince them to fight next to their enemies.”

Bron wagged his great head back and forth. “There is so much distrust between them and the
civilized
races, and possibly more with me. The ogres will look down upon me for my human heritage, and the orcs and goblins will distrust me for both my halves.”

“Take heart, faithful Bron, for unlike the higher races, my beloved brutes have not forgotten the great war for their freedom, and they hate the Scions and their dragon overseers even more than the humans, dwarves, and elves. Convince them to accept you as my emissary, and they will accept their duty.”

“I will do my best, Goddess.”

“I know you will. It is why I chose you.” Ellanee gestured at the ground between them, and a map of impossible accuracy and detail formed in the dirt replete with towering mountains, lakes, and rivers. “The human gathering his allies has formulated a plan to meet the Scions and their horde in a small valley near where the Witchcrag Mountains and the Great Barrier Mountains meet. This is where they will need the might of the brutish races to defeat them.”

“If it is within my ability, I will lead the brutes there,” Bron vowed.

“Then go with my blessing, lovely Bron.” Ellanee touched her druid on the head and vanished.

“Did you see that?” Trielle fluttered down and asked.

“See what?”

“She’s getting fat,” the sprite said waspishly. “What’s this about gathering the stinky races?”

“Ancient gods are returning and wish to destroy us all. Ellanee has asked me to gather the races to aid the world in defeating them.”

Trielle’s face fell slack. “We’re going to fight gods?”

“And an unimaginable horde of evil creatures.”

The sprite grinned broadly. “Wahoo, the sprites are going to war!”

Her hungry belly forgotten in lieu of far more exciting things, Trielle flew skyward and raced home to announce the call to arms. As Bron returned home to gather a few supplies, a deep droning filled the air as hundreds of sprites noisily beat their wings in a call that was heard for miles. Every sprite within hearing distance took up the message and relayed it throughout the vast forest.

Grumph, Bron’s enormous dire bear companion, lay in front of the door to the druid’s cave. Despite waiting for Bron to return and share his store of honey, Grumph protested loudly when he had to move to allow the druid to get inside.

“I don’t know why you are complaining. The honey is not going to come outside. Perhaps if you stopped lying right in front of the door I would not have to disturb you.”

Grumph responded by tearing a large furrow in the ground with a swipe of his massive paw and completely uprooting a tree that would have taken a woodsman several minutes to chop down. Bron ignored Grumph’s tantrum just as he did Trielle’s abrasive personality. When all of your friends are animals, such things do not register as the least bit out of place or inappropriate.

The druid selected a large pinecone, liberally coated it with honey, and tossed to Grumph who was filling the doorway with his massive head and chest. The dire bear gave Bron an appreciative grumble, carried his treat to a shady spot, and commenced licking it clean. Bron began rummaging around his tables, shelves, and cabinets for things to take on his journey. He selected pouches of herbs for their medicinal properties as well as a healing salve and a sack of dried tea leaves he was particularly fond of. He stuffed these, a tin teapot and cups, and a spare jerkin and trousers into a knapsack.

Taking up his staff, Bron stepped out of his cave and began his trek south and east. He knew the ogres lived in several remote valleys near some of the most treacherous terrain along the mountains, driven there by the continuous expansion of humanity. Most of the orc and goblin tribes also called the rugged valleys home as well, usually maintaining a tenuous peace, but sometimes not.

Bron had failed to notice the sprites’ droning had ceased until it started up again and rapidly drew nearer. A great black cloud flew across the sky, undulating in a rhythmic dance that captivated the eye. The swarm swooped down in a coordinated dive until it hovered just tens of feet over the druid’s head. Trielle broke away from the swarm and floated in front of Bron’s face.

“Okay, big stinky, the sprites are assembled and ready to fight! Well, most of us. We couldn’t wait around on the farther hives. They’ll catch up.”

“The time to fight is not yet at hand.”

“What?” Trielle exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to get us sprites pumped up for battle then have nothing to fight? You’re playing with fire, buddy!”

“I must travel to the ogre lands and enlist the aid of their kind as well as that of the goblins and orcs,” Bron explained. “Then we shall join the other races in the final battle for our freedom and survival. If you had listened, you would have understood.”

“I don’t have time to listen when it’s time for action!” Trielle turned to the swarm hovering overhead. “False alarm, everybody, we gotta wait until big stinky talks to the king of big stinkies. We’ll fight some gods later, I promise.”

The sprite swarm buzzed angrily before zipping back to their hive to celebrate their overwhelming victory. Trielle lit upon Bron’s shoulder and gripped the collar of his jerkin.

“Okay, so where are we going?”

“Several days walk to the southeast. You do not have to go. I am unsure how they will react to me, and it could be dangerous.”

“All the more reason I need to go. Someone’s gotta watch your big, stinky back.”

“I have Grumph.”

“Pfft, I can take care of that!” Trielle announced and drew back her spear for a throw.

“It may be best to keep him with us.”

Trielle sat back down on Bron’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. You never know when we might run out of food and have to eat him.”

CHAPTER 4

“Explain to me again what it is we’re doing in Southport, Captain Daebian,” Tobias requested nervously.

“Ever since Jarvin commissioned a proper navy, pirates have been relegated to the role of a jackal, little more than a scavenger plucking at the carcass of a long dead animal or snapping up tiny rodents to fill its belly. We must adapt to this change or face starvation. We adapt by hunting in a pack like wolves. A pack of pirates require ships, and ships require a crew, which is what our fellows are out putting together now.”

“Right, I understand all that. What I’m not getting is why, being pirates and all, are we sitting in a thrice-damned navy bar?” the first mate hissed.

“What better ships to acquire than ones already outfitted for battle? It saves us a fortune in retrofitting. It’s sound business sense, don’t you think?”

“I think Captain Farique ain’t much for change and will skin us all if these jellyfish don’t beat him to it.”

Daebian turned and fixed his second with a stare. “Who is Captain Farique?”

“You don’t know who he is?” Tobias asked incredulously. “Captain Farique owns the Black Sand Isles. He’s the pirate king.”

“Pirates have their own king?”

“It’s an unofficial title. He likes to be called Captain, but it’s all the same. It’s his land and his safe harbor for most all who make a go at being a pirate. We even pay a tithe to him to enjoy his hospitality and not become targets of plunder ourselves. He keeps a pretty firm grip with five ships under his command and is the meanest sort of man I ever met.”

“Really?” Daebian asked pointedly.

“Meanest don’t mean scariest. Not anymore anyway.”

Daebian stroked the tiny bit of stubble dotting his chin. “You know, Tobias, I have been at this pirating thing for a couple weeks now. I think I’m due a promotion. Don’t you?”

Tobias’ face fell. “I think you’re gonna get us all killed.”

“Not all of us…probably.”

“Captain, you’re gonna go and cause a heap of trouble, aren’t you?”

“Only for one of us. Which one of us is totally dependent upon the outcome.”

“I’m just glad these jellyfish don’t know who we are, or Captain Farique won’t never get the chance to skin us and hang us from his yardarm.”

“You are certainly right on that account. I do so dislike anonymity.” Daebian stood and raised his glass above his head. “On behalf of my father Lord Azerick Giles, sorcerer extraordinaire, friend of the King, and the official bum wiper of the gods, I would like to show my appreciation to the men securing the seas by paying for every drink served in this bar until I depart for the evening. Be forewarned, I have no other pressing business for some time.”

Daebian’s declaration was met with a loud huzzah and a mass rush for the bar. Serving women were struggling to fill orders until the barkeep brought in more help. The alcohol flowed and women began pouring in from the streets, finding the laps of many reveling sailors. Shots of rum and whiskey tore down the last vestiges of sobriety long before the night grew long.

“Tobias, I think it is time to start bringing in some of the boys.”

“Aye, Captain. You know, if this works, you’ll be known as the craziest, most brilliant pirate who ever sailed.”

Daebian grinned into his glass and sipped. “You are stating an already established fact, but I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

Tobias disappeared outside and reentered the bar a few minutes later with two of the crew. Every few minutes, two or three more of Daebian’s men would enter and join in on the festivities, but they stared more at the partying sailors than the bottoms of their glasses. No one noticed when a few of the navy men stumbled out to get some air, relieve themselves, or decided to stagger back to their ship and were followed by a number Daebian’s pirates. Neither did anyone notice when the civilians returned a short time later, but none of the sailors ever did.

As the night wound down and the masses of drunk sailors dwindled to less than a score with nearly as many women sitting on their laps encouraging their revelry, Daebian stood on unsteady legs and addressed the crowd, slurring his words a bit as he spoke.

“Gentlemen, you have outlasted me and likely most of the swill in this place, so it is time for me to depart. Let us take one last glass to the streets and toast Southport.”

Daebian led the crowd out into the night air, accompanying them in a raucous drinking song as they threaded their way down the cobbled avenues. The darkness of the early morning grew even blacker as the mob of revelers passed down a narrow street bereft of functional street lamps. Daebian turned to the mass of partiers as they stepped into an intersection.

“Fellows, this is where we must part ways.” A loud groan of disappointment echoed from his new followers. “Do not despair, for the entertainment has not yet reached an end. Not for me and mine anyway. However, I am sad to say this is where your enjoyment meets its conclusion. Ladies.”

The women hanging on the arms of several of the sailors smiled once at their escorts and nodded at Daebian as they disentwined their arms from the men and quickly vanished into the night. The navy men stopped singing and gave their benefactor puzzled looks. Confusion turned to fear as dozens of men appeared out of the shadows wielding truncheons and cutlasses.

Before the drunken men could utter more than a surprised exclamation, Daebian’s men fell on them, bashing heads with truncheons and cutlass hilts. The pirates had the sailors beaten into submission in moments and donned their distinctive blue and white, broad-striped shirts.

“Tobias, how many men do we have at the ready?”

“Thirty-six new recruits plus our original crew. With the fellows we picked off through the night, we have forty-three wearing navy colors,” Tobias dutifully reported.

“And the Watch?”

“Properly distracted in the upper commons.”

“Fantastic. Let the festivities resume.”

Daebian led his raucous party-goers down the docks to where the naval vessels were moored. The band of disguised sailors continued their shouting, singing, and cajoling all the way down the pier before stopping next to the moored ships.

“It’s about time you lot finished embarrassing yourselves,” a man called out from the deck of the ship. “Speak the password, and I’ll lower the gangplank so you can sleep off your drink enough to pull your shift.”

“The password is ‘your mother’s a trollop’,” Daebian slurred.

“Hilarious. Now give me the password, or you idiots can sleep on the dock!”

Daebian’s demonic eyes pierced the darkness and found and memorized every shadow on the ship’s deck. Walking into a shadow on the dock, Daebian stepped out onto the deck of the ship behind the guard on duty.

“The password is pirate,” Daebian whispered in the man’s ear.

Daebian plunged his sword into his back and casually tossed him overboard. He severed the ropes securing the gangplank in place before vanishing into another shadow and reappearing across the deck to cut down two more men before the first of his crew made it aboard. Despite having only a nominal crew aboard the ship, Daebian needed to move quickly before they fully roused. Even a few men could pose a challenge if he did not get his crew on deck before they mobilized.