The Sorcerer's Legacy (5 page)

“Did you want something or are you just here to annoy me?” Azerick asked.

“I’m hungry, got any food?” Wolf asked unashamed.

“What? You come here and give me a hard time and then you expect me to feed you out of simple kindness?” Azerick asked, amazed at the temerity of the wild child.

“Of course,” Wolf answered without even blinking. “You wouldn’t let a poor, innocent, defenseless child who is barely able to survive on his own starve to death would you?”

Azerick was not going to fall for Wolf’s helpless child ploy. “Why is it that half the things that come out of your mouth are lies and exaggerations?”

“Because I’m only half human otherwise everything would be lies!” Wolf shouted, pounding the top of the wall with his hand and laughing.

Azerick buried his face in his hand and shook his head realizing that Wolf had set him up once again.

“If you want something to eat you will have to come into town with me,” Azerick told him.

Wolf made a face as if he had just eaten something rotten. “Go into the city? No thanks, Ghost and I will just find something out here. I snared a couple rabbits earlier. I wouldn’t mind some cheese or something next time you come out though.”

“I will put something together tomorrow,” Azerick promised.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Do my ears deceive me or did words of appreciation actually come out of your mouth?” Azerick asked dramatically.

Wolf jumped from the fifteen-foot high wall, tumbled to break his fall, and rolled nimbly to his feet. He and Ghost loped over to where the sorcerer and his apprentice stood.

“Can I pet him?” Ellyssa asked as they came near.

“I wouldn’t, he probably bites,” Azerick cautioned, “but Ghost probably won’t mind.”

“Hey that was almost funny. You keep trying and you might find a sense of humor yet,” Wolf quipped. “You can pet him; he won’t bite as long he knows we’re friends.”

As Wolf and Ghost drew near, Ellyssa could see that the boy was covered in dirt and bits of leaves and detritus was tangled in his long hair. “Why are you so filthy?”

“Why are you so ugly?” Wolf retorted defensively.

“I’m not ugly!”

“Yes you are!”

Ellyssa looked up at Azerick. “Is that a boy or did the wolf throw up some half-digested animal?”

Wolf held his arms across his stomach as he laughed. “She’s clever and funny, not like you,” he said to Azerick. “I like her.”

Azerick could only shake his head and smile at the completely unpredictable half-elf.

“What are we going to do now?” Ellyssa asked, looking up at Azerick while she pet Ghost’s furry head.

“I will have to go see the minister of labor, post some notices, and maybe tell a few of the innkeepers to put the word out that I am looking for carpenters, stone masons, and just about every type of laborer I can find. Like it or not, this is going to be our new home,” Azerick proclaimed.

CHAPTER
2

The goblin prowled through the moonless dark with a stealth born of necessity and a lifetime of practice. Being caught by one of the humans whose farm he spied upon was a sure way to get himself killed, bringing about an even faster death than the gnawing in his belly constantly threatened to do. Grick watched the farmhouse intently, using his superior night vision to spy any movement within.

All was silent, the last lamp or candle was blown out more than two hours ago. The humans were not the real problem however. It was their flea-ridden dogs. Gods how he hated those dogs. Grick was a decent hunter but hunting had not been good recently. There was a darkness, a taint, to the land these days. He would not normally risk a raid like this but he was hungry, a type of hungry only someone who was truly destitute could know. And that hunger forced him to take risks.

Grick was a rare goblin in more ways than one. For one thing, he was raiding on his own, something normal goblins rarely did. Goblins were by nature cowardly, only attacking and raiding when they possessed superior numbers by a wide margin. That was one reason he hated his own kind nearly as much as humans did.

He was also a fair measure smarter than the average of his ilk. Grick had come to despise the raiding, thieving, and sometimes killing his kind perpetrated in order to survive. He also disliked hiding in a filthy hole in the ground packed with dozens, sometimes hundreds of his kin, not that the other races gave his kind many other options.

Grick had hoped that his individuality would become apparent to those who lived above ground if given the chance, but no one had ever been interested in taking more than a single look at him before cursing him and chasing him off. During the cold winters, he would often sneak over the wall of one of the larger human cities, hide in some abandoned building or sewer, and forage only at night. It was a dangerous proposition but the only alternative was freezing and starving to death.

But living in the city amongst the humans was dangerous. The city watch would kill him out of hand if they caught him, and they had come close more than once. His small size and nimble fingers sometimes got him employed by the thieves’ guild, but they usually reneged on whatever deal they made with him and were almost as likely to kill him as the watch, so he avoided all humans as much as possible.

Grick disliked stealing from the humans but they would not miss a few of the eggs, or maybe just one of the chickens that roosted only a couple hundred feet away in their cozy chicken coop. He licked a long bony finger and tested the wind once more then began crawling towards the henhouse. Within minutes, he came to the outside of the tall wire fence made to keep out predators. Fortunately, he was cleverer, or at least more able, than a fox in getting past the less than formidable fortification.

Grick pulled out his two, rust-mottled daggers that were specially modified for just this type of work. Each dagger had a small hole bored through the center about an inch back from the tip of the blade. He aligned the holes and slipped a pin through them, converting the two daggers into a pair of wire snips. The makeshift snips were not terribly efficient but they worked. The goblin methodically clipped the wires until he could push up a section of the fence just large enough for him to crawl under.

With a last look over his shoulder to the farmhouse and the two large dogs that slept on the porch, Grick crawled towards the narrow ramp that the chickens used to walk up and into the raised henhouse. Quiet as a shadow, Grick shinnied up the ramp and barely squeezed through the small square opening that would have been far too small for any human or animal much larger than a fox. The goblin fought to control his breathing, knowing that chickens were notoriously skittish and made a horrendous amount of noise if they felt threatened.

Several chickens made low clucking noises as the goblin cautiously approached. “It ok, just human farmer coming for some eggs,” Grick quietly reassured the fowl in the human tongue.

The diminutive egg poacher gently slipped a hand under one of the wary hens, withdrew three of the warm eggs, and slipped them into a leather pouch at his waist. He stuck his long fingers under a second hen and felt several more of the warm treats hidden under the white feathered fowl. Just as his hand wrapped around the precious but fragile treasure, the wind outside shifted, bringing the goblin’s distinctive scent to the sensitive noses of the dogs.

The two hounds woke immediately and thrust their wet, black noses into the air. The mild evening breeze wafted the tiny scent particles of the goblin right into those super-sensitive smell receptors, which immediately set the dogs off. Grick involuntarily flinched as the dogs’ barking broke the evening silence. The chicken he had his hand under began squawking and flapping its nearly useless wings in terror and warning.

Grick cursed loudly in his own crude language, shoved the eggs he gripped in his hand into the pouch with the others, and fought his way through the flapping, panicked hens. With stealth no longer an issue, Grick snatched one of the chickens around the neck and fled the chicken coop. Face down and crawling on his belly, he saw the light of a lit lamp through the closed shutters of the farmhouse. The two dogs continued to bark their threats and warnings while tugging against the ties that held them on the porch.

Grick ran to the hole he had cut in the wire and dove through it. He cursed again as his tattered shirt caught on the flap of fence. He had intended to pull the section back down to conceal his entry, but the dogs’ barking rendered that pointless. He reached back behind him with his one free hand and tried to free his trapped shirt. He cursed again as the door of not only the farmhouse to which the chicken coop slammed open, but the other three houses that were nearby as well.

The goblin frantically scrabbled forward, tearing his shirt and putting three bloody scratches down his back. The moment he was clear of the wire, he sprang to his feet and ran as fast as his skinny legs would carry him while the chicken slapped him about his head and shoulder trying to break free of his grip.

The farmers freed the dogs and were now chasing the thief down. Grick ran towards the hills where he hoped he would be able to lose his pursuers. Escape would have been relatively easy had it not been for those dogs. Grick cursed his ill fortune.

The baying of the dogs rapidly drew nearer and Grick realized that the farmer must have let at least one of them off the leash to help run him down. The goblin could now hear the dogs barking right on his heels. With a look of remorse, Grick threw the chicken he had stolen right into one of the hound’s barking muzzle. The terrified hen squawked, flapped, and clawed at the dog, buying the goblin a few more seconds of freedom.

The dog attacked the chicken that flapped frantically at its face in terror. The hound, its blood already pumping in excitement, stopped and tore the poor flightless fowl to shreds. Within moments, the farmers caught up to the dog, pulled it off the mauled bird, and continued their pursuit.

Leave me alone already; it’s just a few eggs!
Grick shouted to himself as he plowed into the cold waters of a stream.

He ran downriver for several seconds before crossing in an effort to try to lose his hunters. The dogs cast about in confusion as they tried to reacquire their prey’s scent. Grick ran up the hill and slowed to a fast walk in order to get his breath, praying that the dogs would not pick his scent back up. A few minutes later, the change in the hounds’ braying informed him that his prayers had gone unanswered. He was not surprised. What god looked out for pathetic, thieving goblins?

The trees began to thin as he gained the rocky terrain of the nearby mountain range. Grick had been fleeing his pursuers for nearly an hour and he began to think that they were going to chase him to the ends of the world. He scrambled over large boulders as he climbed higher into the mountains. The goblin was a good climber and hoped that he could find a steep incline or cliff that the farmers and their dogs would be unwilling or unable to follow.

He headed for the steep rock face that he saw ahead. Clambering over a few huge boulders, he dropped over the far side of them and faced the steep cliff face. The cliff soared over his head to an imposing height and offered very few handholds. With an unassailable cliff above and below, Grick’s only option was to go back the way he came. Cursing his misfortune, he climbed back atop one of the massive boulders that tried to bar his path. Glancing between them, he spied a dark fissure that looked to be rather deep.

Such a crevice could conceal him but it also might also trap him. He wondered if the farmers would let him go or wait him out. They might even try to smoke him out or throw stones down at him. Any choices he may have quickly dwindled as he heard the dogs and farmers scrambling up the mountain’s slope just below him. Grick dropped down between the two huge boulders and slithered down the narrow crevice that lay between them.

He continued to climb down and became more and more hopeful of evading his pursuers the deeper he was able to climb. Grick lowered himself down by his scrawny arms and cast about with his big feet in an effort to find a good foothold to continue his descent. His hands suddenly slipped and his stomach lurched as he unexpectedly found himself in freefall.