The Sorcerer's Legacy (21 page)

The girl whispered something to the leader that Azerick could not hear.

“What do we have to do?” the boy asked.

“Just get yourselves up to the keep is all. If you have any small children or anyone that needs help, I can send someone to come get them,” Azerick replied.

“My name is Horst. We’ll see about getting to your tower,” he told the sorcerer noncommittally.

Azerick felt confident that the group would discuss his proposal briefly amongst themselves once Azerick left and make for the tower.

“It is good to meet you, Horst. Do me a favor, pass the word along to any other groups you see for me,” requested Azerick. “There will be a hot meal waiting for everyone who comes.”

Azerick left the group to talk amongst themselves and rode through the park looking for others he could help. He found the next group, smaller by half than the first one, all huddled together beneath the arch of a small stone bridge. They were so well concealed he had almost missed them. Like at the gazebo, the kids had piled snow up high at the open ends of the bridge to trap heat and block out the wind. The small creek that normally flowed under the bridge had frozen solid. The children had laid down old broken pallets, wooden crate lids, and boards to keep above the ice.

Azerick caught a flash of movement in the open space between the snow bank and the bridge arch. He rode horse up closer and dismounted in the hopes of looking less intimidating.

“Hello in there,” Azerick called out, peeking through the open space a few paces back. I am not here to hurt anyone, I want to help you,” he said after several moments of no response.

“Go away, I have a sword and I’ll use it!” a young male voice threatened.

“I am Azerick, the magus from the keep. Perhaps you have heard of me. If you have then you should know I will not hurt you,” Azerick assured the frightened children.

He was not certain how many were under the bridge but he could tell that it was more than one but far fewer than the first group.

“What do you want?” the boy asked a little with a little less hostility.

“I am offering all of the homeless children a warm place to stay and food to eat until the winter passes.”

“You will really give us food and let us sleep inside?” a girl’s voice asked.

“You have my word and I promise that no harm will come to any of you.”

“Should we trust him?” the boy’s voice asked one of the others.

“I’m hungry and cold,” a younger girl’s voice said.

“We’re gonna freeze to death under here,” a younger boy’s voice argued.

Snow began crumbling away as the older boy kicked a hole in the wall of snow and four children stepped out. The oldest was a girl, perhaps fourteen years old; the older boy was probably a year younger than she was and carried an old rusted saber. The other two children, a boy and a girl about seven years old, were close enough in appearance to be twins, which Azerick would later find that they were and all were siblings.

“You’re not a pirate or a slaver or you?” the boy with the saber asked.

Azerick gave the most disarming smile he could. “My home is in the opposite direction of the sea and I do not think even the most aggressive slaver is going to attempt to ply his trade in this kind of weather.”

 “Where do we need to go?” the older girl asked.

“To the keep outside of town, you can see it once you get about a mile up the road heading north. It is about a five-mile walk from here. Can the little ones make it?” Azerick asked, looking down at the shivering pair.

“Melissa, Jenny, and I can but little Roger’s foot slipped through the ice yesterday and is paining him something fierce,” the older boy replied.

“I can carry Roger with me on my horse. I want to find more homeless groups before I head back but I should still get back before you. If not, my apprentice and my cook are expecting you and as many others that will come,” Azerick told the siblings.

Melissa chewed on the end of strand of her greasy hair trying to decide if they could trust this stranger. They had not been on the streets long but they had heard of the unusual young magus. With a last worried look at Roger, she made her decision.

“Go with him, Roger. We will see you again soon,” she told her little brother.

Azerick helped Roger onto the back of Horse and mounted up.

“You should be able to follow my tracks out of town and to the keep. There will be warm food waiting for you.”

“If you are playing us wrong or anything happens to Roger, no force in the kingdom will keep me from making you pay,” Richard grimly promised as he pointed the dull saber at Azerick.

Azerick nodded appreciatively. A normal person would have just smiled or even laughed at the seemingly ridiculous threat, but Azerick thought of the things he had accomplished at the boy’s age and knew better. There was a fierceness in his eyes that many had probably seen in his own.

Azerick rode off in search of another group of children with Roger riding behind him. They rode through the park, visiting more gazebos and bridges, but found only one more group of homeless in the area. As luck would have it, it turned out to be the same group of kids that had surrounded Azerick’s carriage while he and Ellyssa were at the herbalist’s shop. It took only a few minutes to convince them that it would be best for them to make their way to the keep.

The fourth group he found in an abandoned building near the docks district. It was a large group, at least twenty in all, and nothing Azerick could say would convince them to leave. They argued that they had shelter and could survive the winter just as many of them did last year and the year before that.

Azerick found no more groups but had found several individuals or pairs huddled in doorways and in alleys, living in a wooden crate or a lean-to made of scavenged materials. Azerick was near the clothiers and stopped Horse just in front of the store.

“Why are we stopping here?” Roger asked.

“We may as well get you some decent boots and a warmer coat since we’re here,” Azerick told him as he lifted the boy off the back of Horse.

“Really?” Roger asked as his face lit up.

Azerick had to knock loudly on the door and waited as the old couple came down from the room they lived in above their store. Mildred opened the door with a look of surprise.

“Magus Azerick, I’m sorry we we’re not open, we did not expect anyone to be out today in this horrible cold,” Mildred explained apologetically.

“I had not planned on being out today either when I got up to break my fast, but somehow a mission suddenly came upon me. May we pick up a few things?”

“Of course, come on in, Magus. You have been our best customer in some time,” she smiled brightly.

“I think I may become your best customer ever in a moment,” Azerick replied.

“Magus, how good to see you,” Irvin, the store’s owner and tailor greeted as he came down the stairs buttoning his shirt cuffs and straightening his vest. “What can we do for you today?”

“I need to get this young man a warm jacket, trousers, boots—well, everything, to include a pair of mittens.”

Irvin and Mildred went about pulling the articles of clothing off the shelf then sent Roger behind a folding screen to change into them.

“Roger, before you put your new boots on I would like to see the foot that is hurting you,” Azerick requested.

“What else can we get you, Magus?” Irvin inquired.

Azerick looked around the store. “Everything.”

“I beg your pardon, Magus, did you say everything?” Irvin leaned closer, cocking his head, and asked.

“Yes. I need everything you have in the store and I need it delivered to the keep,” Azerick insisted.

Irvin and Mildred were taken aback by the request. “Master Azerick, taking a wagon up to your keep is a rather treacherous endeavor given the weather. I do not wish to quibble, but I am hesitant to risk the trip even for a purchase of this size.”

“I will double your asking price if you can get it to me today,” Azerick offered undeterred.

“Mildred, go tell Aaron to hitch up the wagon, we will be making a delivery today.”

Roger stepped out from behind the screen with one boot off. Azerick looked at the bare foot and grimaced. The entire foot was red and swollen. The toes showed splotches of white and black and the skin had split open in places. Azerick knew with a certainty that he was looking at a bad case of frostbite. Another night in this cold and he would have lost the foot and even possibly died from blood poisoning in the next few days.

“All right, Roger, go ahead and put your stocking and boot on. Irvin, please add Roger’s things to my bill and we will settle it at the keep.”

“Of course, Magus, that will be no problem, no problem at all. I will get my son-in-law to get your purchases to you before nightfall,” the tailor promised.

Azerick mounted Horse and lifted Roger up behind him by one hand. His pantry and cold room was decently stocked, but if he got a good turn out the food would run thin rather soon. The Baker’s shop was the next closest stop he had to make and pointed horse in that direction.

It was late morning by now and the sun, though hidden behind clouds and flurries of falling snow, had risen well above the trees but the streets were very quiet. A few people were out sweeping and shoveling the snow away from their doors and porches.

That reminded him; he needed to buy more shovels and brooms. There were two shovels in the stables but all the others used during the repairs of the keep belonged to the workers and they had taken them home with them.

“Magus,” Roger suddenly spoke from behind him,” is my foot very bad?”

Azerick paused as he considered whether to gloss over the truth or tell him straight. “It has been damaged quite badly, but it could be far worse. Now that your feet are dry and warm it will not get any worse anytime soon, and I have a potion that should help it heal,” he told the boy honestly.

“Will I lose it and become a cripple?”

“I do not know, Roger, but no matter what happens you will not be a cripple. We will just have to find something you can do well no matter your condition,” Azerick answered with a sigh of helplessness and pity.

The door bumped against a small bell affixed over the door and issued a prominent jingle. The pleasant smell of baking bread that was so pleasing from outside made their mouths almost water with its powerful and delectable scent inside.

“G’morn to ya,” a heavyset woman with bright red hair tinged with grey welcomed. “I hope you’re hungry. That fool ‘prentice o’ mine done baked eight racks o’ loaves, four racks o’ dark rounds, and four racks o’ sweet buns without considrin’ there be two bloody foot o’ snow outside!”

Azerick smiled and placed two copper shills on the counter. “Just a sweet bun for the boy.”

The baker sighed in exasperation, slid the two paltry coins off the counter and into a pocket of her apron, and handed a sweet bun tucked in a small square of waxed paper to the smiling young boy.

“Anythin’ else for ya, maybe a nice dark round? It’s got fresh rolled oats on top.”

“No, but there is one more thing I could do with. If it is possible, I will take everything you have already baked and as much as you can bake by early afternoon and bring to the magus’s tower. I would be most grateful,” Azerick said with a devious smile.

“Come again, milord? Did you say you want all I got and more brought up to the ol’ haunted keep?”

“The formally haunted but now occupied only by the living keep, yes. I will gladly pay you double the cost of the breads if you can manage it,” Azerick told the woman.