The Sorcerer's Legacy (10 page)

It was a far warmer welcome than he had received on his first visit. When Azerick had first come to the minister, Lord Randall had mistakenly assumed that the young man sitting outside his office was looking for a job, just like the hundreds of other unemployed and destitute people of North Haven. However, as soon as Azerick made it clear he actually wanted to
hire
a number of workers, the minister warmed to him immediately. Azerick found it revolting yet darkly amusing how quickly gold changed the opinions and manners of some people.

“I hope your workers are meeting your satisfaction. If they are not, just let me know. There are hundreds of people that will gladly take the place of any slackers,” the slightly over middle-aged lord promised as he guided Azerick into his office.

“Not at all, Lord Randall, all my workers are doing exceptional work. In fact, I am here because I have secured the bulk of my assets and wish to hire more laborers,” Azerick informed the minister.

The minister’s smile widened even further, if it were possible. “Fantastic, the duchess will be most pleased with my next report!”

“I am sure the workers and their families will be equally happy, what with having coin to buy food and clothes for the winter,” Azerick replied dryly, not giving a damn about the lord’s report.

“Oh of course of course,” the minister waved off. “So how many workers will you be needing, a dozen, another twenty perhaps?”

“As many as you and the guild leaders think I can keep productive. I need stone cutters, haulers, timber cutters, bricklayers, more cooks to feed them, food delivery, and carpenters. I will eventually need to purchase livestock, plow several acres of cleared timber lands, plant crops, and have them maintained by someone with farming experience.”

The minister’s jaw dropped in shock. “Sir, you are aware that we have a significant employment shortage at the moment and it is possible for me to fill probably two to three hundred of those positions almost immediately, at the least.”

“Excellent, if the guild leaders think that they can field even more than that and still be productive then have them do so,” Azerick ordered.

“Of course, Master Giles, but you do realize the rather large expense involved in hiring so many people?” Lord Randall asked nervously.

“Yes, Lord Randall, I do. Believe it or not, mathematics is stressed rather intensely at The Academy,” Azerick replied coolly. “I will also require the permanent services of an accountant. An honest one,” Azerick stressed. “I would also like a scholar for the general education of my apprentice.”

The minister was furiously scribbling notes on a piece of parchment as Azerick spoke. “I know just the man for the accounting job. I will have to check with the scribe’s guild for an educator. Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Not at this time. Thank you for your assistance, Lord Randall. I look forward to the arrival of the workers as soon as possible.”

“It has been my pleasure, Master Giles,” Lord Randall said and actually bowed as Azerick left the minister’s office.

Azerick was glad to have the minister working so diligently to get him workers but it irritated him that the only reason he got the man’s respect and courtesy was that he was throwing around large sums of gold. A person should not have to purchase respect or simple courtesy. Any respect a person has to pay for was not worth a copper in his opinion.

Azerick was walking through the city back towards the main gates, leading Horse by the reins, when he thought he saw a familiar face through the crowd. He quickened his pace and caught up with the older man that he was certain he recognized.

“Master Ewen, is that you?” Azerick asked as he laid a gentle hand and the man’s shoulder.

The grey-haired man spun about with surprisingly quick reflexes and agility for man his age and grabbed Azerick’s wrist and strong grip.

“Azerick, is that you?” Ewen asked as recognition dawned on his face.

“Master Ewen, what are you doing in North Haven?” Azerick asked in amazed joy.

“My boy, it is you!” the old man shouted and wrapped the sorcerer in fierce embrace, clapping him soundly on the back.

“What are you doing in North Haven?” Azerick repeated.

“Things were getting a might uncomfortable down in Southport. I don’t like my family being threatened, and after a bunch of men started asking around about you, I decided it was time to move. I sold my home, packed up my entire family and resettled up here,” Ewen explained.

“So they were still looking for me when you left. How long have you been here?” Azerick asked sullenly.

“A bit over a year now. Not nearly as much work even considering the slowdown after—well, you know your father and all. Nice folks up here but not many are willing or able to spend the coin on a private weapons teacher. Azerick, they say you killed a boy at that school. Is that true?” Ewen asked gravely.

“Master Ewen, I have killed a lot of people since my mother died. The first man I killed was that very same night and death has followed me around like a shadow ever since it seems. But I swear to you, I never killed a man who did not deserve it. Travis, the boy that died at The Academy, was an accident.”

“I never thought you was a murderer, lad. Your father raised you right and I like to think I taught you proper enough not to become that sort of man,” came Ewen’s heartfelt reply.

“Thank you, Master Ewen, your opinion means a great deal to me.”

Ewen’s face brightened back up. “So what have you been doing all this time? You been here in North Haven the whole while?”

Azerick shook his head. “It’s a long story. Why don’t you come up to the keep sometime and we can catch up.”

“You’re the one that bought up that haunted place? I heard some crazy wizard was moving in but I never would have guessed in a million years it was you!”

“Yes, I am the crazy wizard, sorcerer actually, but it is not haunted any longer. I took care of that,” Azerick said.

Ewen shook his head in wonder. “Drove out a spook that’s been haunting that place for hundreds of years. We definitely got some catching up to do. I’ll tell you what, I’ll pop in there in the day or two and you and I can have us a good sit down and talk about everything. It’s good to see you well, son, mighty good.”

Azerick smiled warmly. “It is good to see you too Master Ewen.”

CHAPTER
5

Ellyssa had been grounded for two days and Wolf was already bored. Having been on his own for so long, he was surprised by how much he missed her company.

“I’m bored, Ghost, what are we going to do?” the half-elf asked his wolf companion.

That simple question coming from Wolf would have mothers grabbing their children from the street and men locking their doors, but Ghost just looked at the lean boy with his gold eyes and blinked.

“Let’s go see if there is anything interesting going on at the keep.”

Ghost padded along softly behind Wolf as they stealthily made their way through the wall and ducked behind the several small stone buildings that stood in various states of reconstruction. The pounding of metal and the flying of sparks quickly drew the half-elf’s attention. Creeping from building to building, he watched a lean but powerfully built blacksmith wearing a thick leather apron pound a piece of iron with his heavy, steel hammer.

Wolf watched in wonder as sparks flew from every strike. After pounding the bright orange glowing metal completely flat, turning it several times while he beat on it, the smith let the forked end hang over the side of the anvil. He then struck the narrower ends lightly, bending the steel tines until they both formed a loop. The blacksmith held the hinge up to his eye to examine his work, and then doused the glowing hot metal in a barrel of water to temper the steel.

Wolf was fascinated as the water hissed, gurgled, and steamed when the hot metal came in contact with it. The blacksmith left the forging room of the smithy and disappeared into another room where Wolf heard what sounded like the filing of metal. The curious half-elf crept from his hiding place, looked at the fiery hot forge, and ran his hand across the heavy steel anvil. He dunked his finger in the barrel of water and then brought it to his tongue.

“Blah, brine,” Wolf said as he made a sour face.

He lifted the lid from another barrel, dipped his finger into its contents, and found that it was filled with a light oil. He rubbed his finger and thumb together, interested in slippery feeling of it then washed it off in the brine barrel. The oil spread out from his fingers creating a rainbow of colors on top of the water. Wolf found the phenomenon intensely interesting. He dipped his hand into the oil, transferred it to barrel of brine once more, and watched the rainbow spread out from his oil-coated hand.

“Hey this is neat, Ghost, you should look.”

The large black wolf just sat near him and watched, not terribly interested in Wolf’s discovery. Wolf scooped up a double handful of the oil, dropped it into the water, and watched as the globules of oil rose to the surface.

“Hey, Ghost, the oil floats on top of the water instead of mixing with it. Why does it do that do you think?”

Not bothering to wait for a reply that he knew was not forthcoming; Wolf dropped several more handfuls of oil into the water and watched in fascination. He heard the blacksmith returning to the forge room, cutting short his experimentation. Wolf and Ghost darted out, hid next the opened sided building, and watched the smith once more.

The blacksmith grabbed another piece of iron with a large pair of iron tongs and thrust it into the forge. He worked a pair of bellows with his foot, pumping fresh air into the forge causing it to glow even brighter and put off so much heat that Wolf could feel it on his face from where he spied around the corner. The blacksmith pulled the near white-hot iron from the forge with the tongs and began beating it flat with his hammer.

The skilled blacksmith quickly formed the hot iron into another hinge. Once the hinge met his satisfaction, he plunged it into the barrel of brine just as he had the previous one. The instant the red-hot iron touched the oil floating on the surface of the briny water, it ignited and sent a burst of flame up and out of the barrel large enough to scorch most of the whiskers off the surprised smith’s sweat-covered, soot-stained face.

The shocked smith jumped back with a shout of surprise, dropping the hinge as well as his tongs into the barrel where they immediately sank to the bottom. The blacksmith cursed before looking up and spying the awed half-elf.

“Wow that was so neat!” Wolf shouted. “Did you see that?”

The smith looked at the open barrel of oil and quickly deduced what had happened. “Why you little cretin, I’ll wring your skinny little neck!”

“Uh oh, Ghost, time to go,” Wolf informed his lupine friend and sprinted back towards the safety of the forest with the angry shouts of the now nearly beardless blacksmith sounding from behind him.

After a few minutes of running, Wolf could no longer hear the angry shouts of the blacksmith and slowed to a walk, safely in his woods once more. He loped through the woods in a southerly direction so he could watch any traffic along the road. Wolf watched the occasional cart bearing workers, tools, and loaded onto carts pulled by horses or sometimes oxen or mules up towards the keep.

He was about to give up his newest pursuit as boring when several riders came out of the gates of North Haven leading several strings of horses. Half the riders were well-dressed men and women while three other men in plain clothing led the string of horses, eighteen in all by Wolf’s count.

“I wonder why all those people are going to the keep?” Wolf posed his question to Ghost. “And what’s with all the horses?”

Wolf followed the procession towards the keep, always staying hidden within the trees. The caravan moved at a sedate pace, taking a little less than an hour to travel the four or five miles that lay between the keep and the city gates.