The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path) (13 page)

CHAPTER
7

Azerick stood at the foot of the high dais upon which sat Duchess
Mellina, ruler of North Haven. An audience of key nobles and influential subjects sat seated in rows of chairs along the two opposing walls to his right and left. General Brague stood to Mellina’s right, looking as though he wished to demand why the gods hated him so much as to return Azerick to the world of the living.

“Lord Giles, the court wishes to relay its heartfelt joy at your miraculous return.” The Duchess spared her general an icy look when he snorted a bit too loudly. “Had you not surprised us with your urgent request for a formal audience, we would have prepared a proper celebration.”

Azerick inclined his head. “My apologies, Your Grace, but once I inform you of what we face you will understand my urgency.”

“Very Well, Lord Giles. We will hear you now.”

“Your Grace, esteemed audience, I have been dead and residing within the abyss for the better part of the last five years.” Azerick waited for the hushed mutterings of the crowd to subside before continuing. “While there, I had audience with the goddess Sharellan and later a creature known as a Guardian. I was told of and shown beings of enormous power and with great armies of creatures. These beings are known as the Scions. They were the gods before our gods and the true masters behind The Great Revolution.”

“The Great Revolution was against the dragons! Everyone knows that,” someone shouted from amongst the assembly.

Azerick turned and faced the direction of the speaker. “That is what we remember and what the Scions wish us to believe. The dragons were merely guard dogs and slaves of the Scions. The elves, who brought us the gift of magic, created the Guardians. They and the Guardians fought the Scions while we, the dwarves, and the other races fought the dragons and their legions. The last of the Guardians gave her life to free me from the abyss. The walls holding the Scions imprisoned are crumbling, and soon they will return.”

“Then we will beat them once more,” General Brague announced. “We are stronger, more numerous, and have more wizards than before.”

“We are scattered, General. The dwarves live inside their mountain homes within the Witchcrag and Great Barrier Mountains. The elves hide secluded far to the north, and the abyssal elves have buried themselves even deeper than the dwarves. The orcs, goblins, ogres, and other races are scattered in a thousand different tribes all across the continent. Most importantly, we no longer have the Guardians, beings whose duality in spirit allowed them to fight the Scions face to face. My son Raijaun and I are now two to replace a dozen of the most powerful wielders of magic ever to walk this world.”

“You sound apocalyptic, Lord Giles,” Duchess
Mellina said flatly.

“An apocalypse is coming, but as your general said, we are not defenseless. However, we are at the moment greatly unprepared.
Have you heard of the happenings at Bruneford’s Mill?”

The Duchess nodded. “I have received the report. It was a tragedy. I also received a report of someone claiming to be you attacking The Hall of Inquisition and threatening Duchess Paulina. She is demanding I have you executed upon the spot.
”

“I did not attack The Hall nor threaten the Duchess. I did request the return of my property and apprentice. My insistence could have been construed as a threat
, I suppose. The Hall attacked me later. We were victorious because we were both prepared to meet a more powerful force. This lesson is what I desperately wish to convey here today. The fact is the Scions are more powerful than our wizards, and their army stronger, faster, and greater in size than our own. However, that does not mean defeat is inevitable.”

The Duchess asked, “What would you have of us, Lord Giles?”

“I have already spoken to the Crown Prince of Sumara and representatives of the abyssal elves and dwarves. I intend to speak with King Jarvin and a representative of the elves within the week. As I have told the others and will relay to our King, we must turn our minds and spears toward war. It is time to beat our plowshares into swords, conscript and train every available citizen, and adopt a strict military training regimen for our frontline soldiers.”

“My soldiers are the best trained in the kingdom!” Brague shouted indignantly at what he felt was a slight against his proficiency. “I do not need some wizard telling me how to fight or train my men!”

“Calm yourself, General. I am sure Lord Giles meant nothing of the sort.”

“I did not, Your Grace. General Brague, I have twice fought beside you and your men and know you to be an excellent commander with top-notch soldiers, but you do not understand the enemy we face. You can be the greatest antelope hunter in the world, but your skills will be inadequate when hunting plains lions or
flesh reavers. You and your men are the best fighters I have ever known, but your methods of combat are ill-suited to the enemy we face. I have spent the past several months studying the Codex Arcana in order to learn as much as I can about the Scions and their minions. I have taken that knowledge and written a detailed training manual for both arcane and martial combat, particularly in combining those two forces into a cohesive force to maximize their ability to kill our enemies and survive.”

Another nobleman stood. “Are you suggesting we arm and train every citizen in the city?”

“I am telling you we
must
arm and train every citizen in the kingdom.”

“And who will pay for all of this?”

“You will. We all will. I have ordered my treasury opened to support this effort, but I am not foolish enough to think I can fund it on my own.”

“That is preposterous! Maintaining an army is why we pay taxes!”

“And now you must pay more.”

“We already paid
a levy for the commissioning of the city’s ships!”

“For which you enjoy increased security and trade. Both these things have increased your wealth even greater than it was before the tax increase. Your trade vessels are no longer being plundered by pirates
, and import and exports have nearly tripled. Now is the time to invest again, and this time it is not for useless bits of metal but for your continued existence. I would think such a thing would encourage you more than the prospect of increased income, since a rich dead man is still a dead man.”

The assembly was abuzz with wo
rds of support for the nobleman and scoffed at the sorcerer’s pronouncement until Duchess Mellina stood. “Quiet! Lord Giles has saved this city from invaders and kept our beloved Jarvin on his throne, both of which would have been lost without his intervention and foresight. I will hear any words of evidence refuting his claims, but I will not risk my city and its people for petty bickering and greed. Until I see evidence proving he is mistaken, I will trust in his judgment and act accordingly. I hereby order a state of martial law. Conscription will begin immediately. All tradesmen will receive instructions detailing their support of the war effort. None of you are to travel far, for I am assigning many of you to oversee much of our preparations.”

“But, Your Grace, the
Council of Lords…,” the vocal nobleman sputtered.

“Exists as a courtesy, and one in which I am revoking until the danger to our kingdom is at an end.
This audience is over. Lord Giles, you and my daughter will join me and General Brague in the parlor for further discussion.”

The court stood and bowed as General Brague escorted the Duchess from the dais by way of the door hidden behind the thick curtains covering the wall. Azerick and Miranda made their way to the parlor through another
hall. Duchess Mellina quickly crossed the parlor floor the moment couple walked in and slapped Azerick soundly across the cheek.

“How dare you return from the dead and make your first visit one of formality?”

“Forgive me, Your Grace, things have been happening rather quickly.”

The room echoed with the sound of the Duchess’ second slap. “In court you refer to me as Your Grace. In private you will call me Mother.”

Azerick could not suppress his smile. “Yes, Mother.”

“And wipe that smirk off your face. It make
s you look like a simpleton.”

Azerick did as he was told but still received another slap. “What was that one for?”

“That one was for General Brague. He said you deserved it, and I trust in his judgment.” Mellina left Azerick standing as she reclined on a sofa. “Do you have any idea what you put my daughter through by running off and dying?”

“Again, forgive me, Mother.”

“It was damn selfish of you. Next time you die, you had best stay dead or incur my wrath. Now tell me and the General more of these failed gods set on destroying us. I do not give a whit about why. I need to know what we are looking at from a tactical standpoint.”

Azerick nodded as he gathered his thoughts. “There are five Scions, each of whom lorded over their own realm: what we call Valeria and Sumara, Lazuul, the land beyond The Great Barrier Mountains, and two that must lie far beyond wherever we have sailed.”

“Why are they so dead set on coming here if there are four other kingdoms from which to choose? Will they be dividing their forces?”

“They will not, and the reason is twofold.”

“Why divide and weaken your army when the kingdoms are separated by impassable mountains and unexplored seas,” General Brague stated as he handed Mellina a glass of wine.

“Precisely. The reason they will destroy us first is due to a particular hatred
of me.”

General Brague poured himself a glass of brandy.
“I can certainly understand that. Never one to rest on his accomplishments, Lord Giles has traveled to other worlds and found an entirely new host of people to infuriate.”

“Darling, be civil. What are we looking at in the way of their army and ability?”

“The Scions themselves are the gods before our gods. They wield all the power of our gods, without the restrictions put on them by the All Mother.”

“What kind of restrictions? How can anything put restriction
s on a god?”

“To be honest, it goes into some huge cosmic thing I will not pretend to fully understand. Suffice it to say, there is a power greater than the gods with a consciousness far beyond our understanding. It is
the force guiding the universe and does not exist on the same level we or the gods, do. Our gods must work through us, which is why we will face the brunt of this invasion. The Scions also have an army of creatures they have spent the past two millennia creating, which number probably a million or more. It was impossible for me to count. They are bigger, stronger, and faster than humans.”

“All right, five gods and a massive army of creatures better suited to killing than we are. What else are we facing?” the Duchess asked.

“They have several ships that can fly through the air like ours sail on water. I also expect them to call the dragons to their aid as well.”

“You are just full of optimistic tidings.”

“There is one thing we have in our favor. Scions abhor magic users like nothing else. Other than their own magic, I expect them to attack us with nothing more than brute strength and whatever dragons may still exist in the world. That is why having our wizards train amongst the soldiers is so important. Neither wizard nor soldier can hope to stand alone, but together, they can become highly formidable.”

“What good
does that do us if these Scions can simply obliterate us at a whim?” Brague asked.

“Because they cannot. We may be insects to them, but we can sting. Enough stings can bring down the largest of animals. Moreover, the Scions disdain us and will not seek to lower themselves to engage the rabble directly. Such a thing is left to their underlings. Also, they will not want to weaken themselves before they face our gods. Our gods may be limited upon our plane, but they are still gods and pose a threat, particularly when backed up by a couple thousand wizards.
”

Duchess
Mellina set her glass down and scrubbed the fatigue from her face. “You say we are not alone, that you have contacted Sumara and other races. Can we reinforce the walls to withstand a siege long enough for them and the rest of the kingdom to come to our aid?”

Azerick shook his head somberly. “You do not understand. No walls can save us from this kind of attack. I have a plan to create stable gateways that will allow us to evacuate our populace to Brelland.”

The Duchess sat up straight. “You do not think we can hold North Haven?”

“I know we cannot hold it. I will create a similar gateway in Southport that will transport them to Brightridge. From Brelland and Brightridge, we will retreat into a valley I know of near the Witchcrag Mountains
, where we will combine the might of all our forces in a final battle for survival. This will be a war of attrition with neither side willing or able to offer or accept terms. Our only hope is to bleed them so severely, that by the time they reach our final field of battle, we can crush them decidedly. Have no illusions; we will lose our cities, and our people are going to be brutalized. What I am trying to do is create an army that will be more brutal than our enemy and crawl from whatever wreckage in which our kingdom may lie. This is not about glorious victory, but bloody and horrible survival.”