The Sorcerer's Legacy (2 page)

“You mean he is not as old as the decrepit old fool with whom you are speaking?” Morvic cackled again and poked Azerick in the chest with a gnarly old finger. “That man was old when I met him seventy years ago when I was just an apprentice librarian so don’t let him go and fool you! Anyway, enough of my babbling. I’m sure you came here for more important things than listening to me carry on.”

“Well, I was hoping to find some information on ghosts or restless spirits,” Azerick supplied.

“You certainly came to the right place. We have a real restless spirit atop the hill outside of the city, but I do not recommend going there myself. She’s not much for tolerating trespassers. The few folks foolish enough not to listen came back in various levels of insanity, if they came back at all. You could ask Allister about her, he was probably there when she died!” the old man laughed again and slapped his knee.

“Seriously though,” he continued, “don’t you be going up there yourself. Let me show you where you might find what you’re looking for.”

Azerick followed Morvic across the library where he pushed one of the rolling ladders past several rows of shelves then stopped.

“Up there on the third shelf from the top. You’ll have to climb up yourself; I don’t get on the ladders much these days.”

Azerick scaled the ladder and read the titles printed on the bindings while Morvic gave him directions from down below.

“That blue one there next to your right elbow. That’s it, and the one next to it. You also might want to look at the one with the dark green binding as well,” Morvic pointed out.

Azerick came down the ladder carefully cradling the three books that Morvic had directed him to. He thanked the old librarian and sat at one of the many tables set up in the center of the vast library chamber.

The sun was setting when Azerick thought he finally found what he was looking for. The book, written by a cleric of Solarian, stated that many spirits, although not necessarily malevolent by nature, often haunt a place or person due to a traumatic experience that, until resolved, will not allow them to pass beyond the veil between the living and the afterlife.

The Lady’s spirit refused to pass on because her children were murdered and are gone. The murderers are long dead so it is impossible to avenge them,
Azerick thought to himself.
She wails for her missing children but her children are long dead. There is no way to bring them back to her. Were her children’s remains buried somewhere else and she wants them buried properly on the keep grounds?

 
Even if their remains were still about, it is doubtful anyone would know where they were interred, and given that fact that pyres were more often used to send on the dead than tombs or graves back then, there may not be any remains left.

It was getting late so Azerick returned the books to their rightful place and left so Morvic could lock up for the night. He bid farewell to the ancient librarian and promised that he would likely be making many return visits. He was just passing the darkly shadowed side of a building when a man called out to him.

“Sir, a moment of your time, please,” a man called out and beckoned him to come nearer.

 Azerick saw that there were two men and a young child wearing a worn, homespun dress that she was rapidly outgrowing. The girl was standing next to a nondescript man in patched, shabby clothing. They were definitely not the type of people who lived in this part of the city. The other man was fat bordering on obese, but his clothes were of the highest quality and he carried himself with an air of superiority—exactly the type that lived here. It was the poor man with the child that had called out to him.

“Sir, a moment, please,” the man repeated as Azerick cautiously drew closer. “You could use a girl about to help you with the daily running of your home, couldn’t you?” the man practically begged as his eyes darted between Azerick and the fat man.

“Are you trying to sell me this child?” Azerick asked incredulously.

The fat man loudly complained and made to move between the man and the newcomer. “Here now, we were in the middle of a business transaction! You cannot just stop negotiations and bring in a third party to drive the price up!”

The man tried to ignore the wealthy man’s protest, sidled sideways with a hand on the girl’s boney shoulder, and continued to make his pitch. “Milord, she can cook, clean, and she’s smart as a whip!”

“Can she read?” Azerick asked, though what compelled him to do so, he could not say.

The last thing he needed was a child. Although, he would have had a child of his own right now if he had been able to rescue Delinda. His heart ached at the renewed memory of his loss.

“Yes, milord, her mother teaches all our children to read and she’s the best reader of the bunch!”

“I don’t give a damn if she can read or even speak for that matter! We had a deal on the table and you will damn well honor it or I’ll have you whipped for a cheat and a scoundrel,” the fat man swore angrily and gestured hostilely with his decorative walking stick.

Azerick saw the look of fear in the father’s eyes, and it was not because of the threat of a beating. In one look, Azerick could see precisely that the disgusting fat man was a cruel and sadistic sort. Rage boiled up within him as he drew from the Source and sent a blast of raw force that sent the grotesque man tumbling into a heap several paces away.

Renewed fear showed clearly on the father’s face as he now faced a man who obviously practiced magic, and like most common people, he had a deep fear of the unknown powers of magicians.

“How much did that,” Azerick pointed to the fat man blubbering on the ground, “offer you for the girl?”

“Thirty pieces of gold, milord,” the man answered fearfully.

“I’m afraid I have only twenty to offer. It would appear that he is able to outbid me,” Azerick told the man, wanting to gauge his reaction.

“You would give her a good home and treat her well and fairly?” the father asked nervously, casting a look at the bloated form still cowering on the ground.

Greed overcame the fat man’s fear as he once again protested. “Here now, I made the higher bid! You must sell to me by rights!”

Azerick took two long strides and glared down at the man, pointing a shaking finger, barely able to keep himself from rendering him into a pile of congealing offal. “You fat disgusting slug! If I ever hear of you trying to purchase another human being, I will take great pleasure in turning you into the pig you really are! A sow at that, then I will pen you up with an amorous boar so that he can give you precisely what you deserve for the rest of your days!”

The fat man quailed under the sorcerer’s furious gaze. Azerick turned back to the man and the young girl. The sorcerer looked into the girl’s hazel green eyes, which nearly matched his own, as she looked up at him, fearfully but unflinchingly meeting his gaze.

“Tell me, why you would sell her to me when that,
man,
offered you considerably more?” Azerick asked the father.

“Milord, I want her to have a decent home. Her mother and I both love her dearly but this last winter was hard and the next one promises to be even worse. I ain’t been able to find work in nearly a year and if I don’t find a way to make some money soon my whole family will starve,” the man explained, practically weeping openly now.  “Twenty gold crowns will be plenty to see that my family gets enough to eat for some time. I don’t believe in slavery, especially for my little girl, but my older boy can work and help provide for the family and my other boy is just a babe still suckling on his mum. Please, milord, say you’ll give her a good home and treat her fair.”

Azerick studied the girl intently, studying and seeing her with more than just his eyes, reached into the pocket of his cloak, pulled out a small crystal sphere the size of a plum, and put it in the girl’s hand.

“I want you to concentrate on the sphere, child. Imagine it giving off a glow like that of a candle or a small lamp. Inside your body, there is great energy that you can shape and direct into the orb just as there is energy in everything around you. Find it and shape it into light. You can do it, just concentrate.”

The girl stared at the small glass globe and concentrated but nothing happened. She looked up at Azerick with plaintive eyes but she would find no sympathy there.

“Come now, concentrate! If you cannot do something as simple as making the globe glow then I have no use for you and that fat blob lying on the ground over there can have you!” Azerick growled cruelly.

“Milord, please,” the father pleaded.

The girl squeezed her big hazel eyes shut, bit her lip in concentration, and focused all her will onto the orb as tears of anger, fear, and desperation streamed down her small face. The globe suddenly erupted in a brilliance that lit up the entire block like a stroke of lightning that refused to flash out of existence. Closing his eyes against the powerful glare, Azerick knelt down, put his hand over the radiating glass sphere, and gently took it from her where it once again dimmed to nothing more than a plain glass ball.

“That will do, child, that will do,” Azerick assured her soothingly and petted her long, wavy blond hair then stood up and addressed the father once more.

Azerick pulled out a small pouch of coins and tossed it to the man. “There is probably a little over thirty crowns total in that sack. I suggest that you invest it in tools or whatever it is you normally do for a living. If I hear you have squandered it on drinking, gambling, or other pleasures I will come and take the rest of your family from you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, milord, I swear I’ll do right. What will you do with Ellyssa?” the man asked nervously.

“That is no longer your concern now is it?” Azerick replied harshly but then softened as he realized that the man truly did want what was best for his daughter. “She will be educated far beyond what she could have ever accomplished with you. She has a talent that I will nurture so that she can become what she is meant to be. Be warned however, she is now mine. You may see her about the city at times but you will not approach her nor will you speak to her. In time, she may choose to reestablish contact with you but that will be her choice. She is not a slave but my apprentice. When she comes of age, she can decide what she will do, where she will go, or what she shall become.”

The man nodded, took one last tear-filled look at his daughter and walked away. Azerick guided his new apprentice past the fat lump of a man still cowering on the filthy, cobbled street and walked together back to the
Golden Glade
. Azerick looked down at his new apprentice and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

“So your name is Ellyssa?” he asked the girl who kept pace with him.

“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly.

“How old are you, Ellyssa?”

“Nine, sir.”

“Your father said you can read.”

She mumbled an affirmative and nodded her head.

“Do you like reading?”

She nodded her head again.

“Good, you will be doing a great deal of reading from now on.”

The girl did not bother to answer and they walked the rest of the way to the inn in silence. The inn was filling up with the usual dinner crowd as they walked in. Azerick motioned for the buxom older serving woman to come over.

“Mary, would you be so kind as the take this young lady and clean her up before dinner?” Azerick implored her.

Mary was a kind soul and would have helped regardless, but the fact that the young sorcerer was a good tipper did not hurt.

“Of course, come along, honey. Let’s get you presentable before setting you up with a real good meal, ok?”

Ellyssa followed the serving woman without protest. When they returned a short while later, the young girl had her hair washed out and brushed and her skin was free of dirt. With perfect timing, the meals arrived just after she sat back down across from Azerick. Azerick motioned that it was all right to go ahead and eat as he dug into his own meal.