The Sorcerer's Legacy (53 page)

“There ya go, stranger, twenty-seven silver sovereigns! I hope you’re a rich man or I’ll take my gold outta your crazy hide,” Butch promised.

Azerick reached into his coin pouch and set a stack of gold coins on the bar. Azerick counted them aloud, swept all the coins into a glass, and gave it to the bartender to hold.

“Get me a glass of red wine, Louis,” Azerick ordered.

Louis set another cup onto the bar and filled it with his best, which made it almost palatable.

“Follow me outside, Joe, so we may discuss strategy,” Azerick told the young man and stepped out onto the dirt street.

“Mister, I don’t know what you’re doing but I can’t fight Butch! Nobody in this town messes with Butch. You’re gonna get me killed! I’m sorry about all that money but I ain’t gonna stay here and die for your entertainment,” Joe said and started walking away.

Azerick grabbed Joe by the elbow. “Take a drink, Joe, and listen to me.”

Joe sighed, took the cup from Azerick, and drank deeply in an attempt to settle his nerves. “The first thing you need to have is confidence. If you think you are going to lose, then you already have. Think positive and do not let fear rule you. Can you do that?”

Joe thought a moment then nodded his head. “Yeah, I think I can! I’m gonna murder that guy! I’m tired of him pushing me and everyone in town around. I’m not gonna have my baby boy grow up thinking his dad’s a coward!”

“That’s good, Joe,” Azerick said. “Now listen to me.”

Azerick showed Joe how to block a wild swing and dodge a jab. He showed him how to hit not just with his fists but with his knees and elbows too.

“Do you think you are ready, Joe?”

Joe drained the last of the cup’s contents. “Yeah, let’s go get that jerk!”

Joe and Azerick walked back into the bar. Someone had pushed the tables back and cleared the center of the floor for the fight. Butch was sitting on his stool drinking ale, watching the door for Azerick and his fighter to return, and smiled malevolently when he saw them enter.

He wiped the foam from his mouth and beard and stepped into the impromptu ring still smiling in anticipation of not only beating the sheepherder to a pulp, but also becoming a rather wealthier man in the process.

“I can’t believe I’m getting paid so much to do something I would’a done for free,” Butch told Joe as he stepped towards him.

“True, I would have gladly beaten you bloody and not asked a bent copper for it neither,” Joe replied, unusually full of confidence.

Butch laughed loudly at the sheepherder’s bravado as Joe raised his arms in front of his face signaling he was ready.

Butch stuck his chin out and taunted Joe. “C’mon sheep lover, I’ll let ya get one for free.”

Joe snapped off a rapid left right combo that snapped Butch’s head back.

Butch shook his head and glared hatefully at Joe. “Why you no good little pile of sheep dung!” Butch roared and swung a huge right fist at the sheepherder intended to take his head right off with one blow.

Joe ducked under the powerful but wild swing and delivered three quick blows to Butch’s stomach eliciting a satisfying whoosh of expelled air. Butch swung with his left, Joe blocked it with his right forearm and snapped his head back again with two quick left jabs and a right cross that brought stars to the thug’s eyes.

The first couple of blows that Joe landed got the tavern crowd murmuring. The last combo had them laughing, which earned them harsh glares from Butch’s friends. Azerick sat on his stool with a knowing smile, sipping a fresh beer cooled with his magic.

Butch shook his head in an attempt to clear it and came at Joe with more caution. Joe danced on his feet and smiled at Butch who had a rivulet of blood seeping from his nose and swollen lip. Butch tried a couple quick jabs of the same kind that Joe had used so effectively, but the smaller man ducked his head to the side, avoiding each one with ease.

“What’s the matter, Butch, can’t handle a little sheepherder?” Joe taunted, feeling exceptionally confident now.

“I’ll kill you, you sheep lovin’ little bastard!” Butch growled and snapped off another quick jab that Joe evaded with ease.

“You should be grateful to me, Butch; if I weren’t a sheep lover you’d never been born.”

Butch roared in rage, ducked his head, and charged Joe with his arms spread out intending to wrap the smaller man up and use his weight to take him to the floor. Joe braced his right leg back, bent low at the waist, then snapped his right knee into the Butch’s face as he charged forward, standing him back up straight and in a daze. Joe swung a hard right cross catching Butch in the jaw and continued to follow through with the punch by spinning around and slamming his right elbow into Butch’s nose.

Blood spattered, bone shattered, and cartilage cracked as the blow destroyed Butch’s nose. The thug’s eyes crossed as he flew backwards, unconscious before he hit the floor. Everyone in the bar, with the exception of Butch’s friends, jumped to their feet and cheered the young sheepherder, several coming over and clapping him on the back and congratulating him on his victory.

Joe bounded over to where Azerick still sat smiling and sipping his cold beer. “Mister, I don’t know what you done, but I thank you with all my heart. Butch has been terrorizing most the folks in this town for as long as I can remember.”

“Just remember one thing, Joe. Butch lost because he was a bully, and as a bully, was weak and a coward at heart. Make sure you don’t go and use your newfound courage and fighting skills to take his place,” Azerick warned the young man.

“No, sir, I won’t. My pa raised me better’n that, don’t you worry.”

“Here,” Azerick said as Louis set the glass of gold and silver on the bar next to him. “Take care of that young wife and son you have,” Azerick said and handed the entire glass of coins over to Joe.

Joe’s eyes went round as Azerick pressed the glass into his hands. “Mister, I can’t take that! None of that money belonged to me.”

“You did the fighting, Joe, you earned it. Don’t worry, it is not going to beggar me in the least,” Azerick assured him.

“Thankee, sir! We are all gonna sleep warm this next winter!” Joe exclaimed, enthusiastically shook Azerick’s hand, and ran home to share his good fortune with his wife.

Azerick smiled and shook his head, amused to be called sir given that he was maybe two years younger than Joe was.  Had his hardships aged him so much so prematurely? He certainly felt it but did not realize it showed so much in his face and manner that it was so obvious to others as well.

“Buddy, I don’t know what ya did for Joe, but folks around here are sure gonna appreciate it. You drink on the house for the rest of your stay, friend,” Louis said with an appreciative smile.

“I appreciate the offer, Louis, but I prefer to pay for my drinks. I do not want to reject your kind offer however, so I will take my free drinks but tip for the service. How does that sound?”

“Suits me fine, far be it from me to refuse another man’s generosity,” Louis returned.

Butch’s friends were trying to wake up him up. He finally began coming around when one of them dumped half a bucket of water over his face.

Butch sat up sputtering. “Wha’ happened?”

“Ya got knocked out, Butch,” one of his friends answered.

“How’d that happen?”

“Dunno, Butch, he fought like a demon, he did. Hit ya in the face with his knee and then his elbow and down ya went.”

Butch took a seat on a chair while his head cleared. “Louis, gimme a shot!”

“You got coin to pay for it?” Louis asked, knowing Butch spent his last betting on the fight.

“You know I’m good for it!” Butch shouted at the barkeep.

“I know you already got a tab run up over thirty silver,” Louis shot back.

Azerick slid a silver coin across the bar and inclined his head towards Butch. Louis pulled a clay jug out from under the bar and filled a small clear glass with a colorless liquid that looked like water but smelled as if it could strip the tar of a ship’s hull. Butch downed the shot, squeezed his eyes shut, and gasped as the fiery brew ran down into his stomach. When he opened his eyes, they looked clear once more and burned with anger.

Butch glared over at the sorcerer and saw him wearing a wry grin as he sipped his beer.

“You did this! I don’t know what ya done but it’s your fault!” Butch yelled.

“I beg your pardon?” Azerick replied and turned towards the man.

“You done somethin’. You cheated! That’s what it is, you cheated somehow!”

Azerick shrugged his shoulders. “I do not recall any rules being stipulated or inferred, so I fail to see how I could have cheated.”

“It don’t matter! I call ya cheat and you owe me that gold!” Butch insisted.

“Butch, are you saying that having lost to the student, you now wish to challenge the master?” Azerick asked in a low warning.

Butch looked at the young man sitting casually on the barstool then glanced back at his friends.

“C’mon boys, let’s teach this boyo what we do to cheats,” Butch said and pulled a dagger out from behind his back.

Butch’s two friends pulled worn blades and advanced on Azerick. Malek began to stand up from his seat to intervene in the apparently one-sided fight, but Maude laid a restraining hand on his arm and shook her head. Azerick continued to sit at ease on his stool but was mumbling the words to a spell and making unseen hand gestures between his legs.

Butch lunged forward, blade extended in front of him. Azerick casually grabbed the wrist with his left hand and pulled the arm out wide, jumped up from his seat, and slammed his open palm into Butch’s chest with a shout. Butch felt as if he had just been kicked in the chest by a team of horses as he flew back over a dozen feet and slammed into the wall. He would have slumped down to the floor but an invisible force seemed to be holding him up and pressing him against the wall.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots, kill that bastard!” Butch roared in pain and fear.

“I am afraid they cannot help you, Butch. Can you, boys?” Azerick asked as he picked up Butch’s fallen blade and traced its tip along the jaw line of one of Butch’s seemingly frozen friends.

The man sweated profusely as he watched the blade outline his jaw and slide down to his throat, soft as a feather. Azerick calmly walked over to where Butch was pinned against the wall and slipped his knife back into the front of his trousers, heedless of any accidental injuries that he may cause.

Butch’s eye bulged as the blade was jammed into the band of his trousers, nearly cutting him in a most sensitive area.

“I knew you cheated. You magic’d the boy so he could beat me,” Butch said nervously, still maintaining his belligerence.

“Perhaps, but if I could do that with a young sheepherder, imagine what I can do on my own,” Azerick said menacingly, standing very close to Butch’s face.

Azerick took a couple paces back from the helpless man, released his spell, and let Butch fall to the ground. Butch quickly stood back up.

“I’ll get you for this! You better watch your back because I’m gonna make you pay!” Butch shouted and stormed out of the tavern.

Azerick turned around and saw the other two men still rigidly standing where he had left them.

“Are you two still here?” Azerick asked and released the spell on them.

The moment the men felt themselves freed, they turned and bolted out of the door after Butch. Azerick sat back on his stool and returned to sipping his beer.

“Mister, you obviously got some power to you but I would still watch my back. Butch has got a terrible temper and a streak of vengeance a mile long,” Louis cautioned the sorcerer.