Read Online The Sorcerer's Ascension by Brock Deskins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brock Deskins
Tags: Fantasy
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you gonna feed him and clothe him outta your pay?”
The woman’s silence answered the question for all that heard. Azerick picked up his bag, left the inn, and walked out onto the street. He did not know where he was going, just that he had to keep moving and thinking. Sometime after midnight, he found himself in an alley in a part of the city that made the common quarter look as grand as the park within the palace grounds.
Azerick thought living penniless in a shabby room in a rundown inn was as bad as it could get, but now he was truly homeless, homeless with no one to care for him. He was completely on his own at the age of thirteen, or was he fourteen now? He was not sure and he really did not care.
He thought about Ewen and his promise. He wondered if he could go to him now. Surely, the Duke would not send his men after him for taking in a homeless boy just because of his father, would he? What if he refused to take him, could he handle the rejection after all else he had lost? No, Ewen would likely take him in regardless of the danger to himself or his family. Azerick was sure of that. But did he have the right to put that kind of burden on his friend? Was Azerick’s life worth jeopardizing the lives of his only friend in the world and his family? He did not know, so he decided to sleep on it. He was exhausted from walking, weeping, and the sorrow that threatened to destroy him.
Fortunately, it was summer and it was not raining. He curled up in a ball against one filth-littered wall of the alley, surrounded by trash; he used his bag of clothes as a pillow, and quickly fell into a restless sleep. He did not know how long he had slept; he figured it could not have been long, before the sound of footsteps alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in the alley.
He came fully awake to hands grabbing him roughly around the waist as strong arms lifted him from the ground.
“Well, what have we here?” a voice asked, carried by the foulest of breath. “A wee little cully all by his lonesome left out like a present just for me.”
With the exception of being caught by the guard for stealing and freezing to death in winter, predation was the greatest danger facing the city’s street children. At first, he thought slavers had grabbed him, usually to be sold in Sumara, far to the south. But a completely new kind of terror coursed through Azerick’s body as he tried to fight the hands that were now grabbing roughly at the laces of his breaches. Azerick fought his rising panic and forced himself to think quickly but calmly.
He caught a brief reflection of light from the belt of the man attacking him. He reached back, grasped the hilt of a knife or dagger, and pulled it out. Reversing his grip on the handle of the blade, he thrust it behind him into the soft flesh of his attacker. The man let out a bellow of pain and surprise and released his grip.
“You done stuck me, ya little bastard!” the man bellowed as he pressed his filthy hands against the profusely bleeding wound.
Azerick did not hesitate. Using the training Master Ewen had instilled, he ducked low and spun around the man, pivoting on his right heel and swinging behind his assailant. As the man staggered and held his hands over the fresh wound in his belly, Azerick drove his newly acquired blade into the man’s right kidney. Azerick knew from his studies that the kidney was especially vulnerable and caused an enormous amount of pain when struck or pierced. He was quite familiar with anatomy and knew the location of most of the body’s tender parts.
The man seemed to choke on the scream that tried to escape his lips as the incredible pain lanced up his back, completely overriding the pain of his original wound. He dropped to his knees in front of Azerick while trying to reach behind him and put his hand over this newest source of agony.
Azerick thrust forward once more, stabbing the man high in the back. The knife skipped off the bottom of the
The woman’s silence answered the question for all that heard. Azerick picked up his bag, left the inn, and walked out onto the street. He did not know where he was going, just that he had to keep moving and thinking. Sometime after midnight, he found himself in an alley in a part of the city that made the common quarter look as grand as the park within the palace grounds.
Azerick thought living penniless in a shabby room in a rundown inn was as bad as it could get, but now he was truly homeless, homeless with no one to care for him. He was completely on his own at the age of thirteen, or was he fourteen now? He was not sure and he really did not care.
He thought about Ewen and his promise. He wondered if he could go to him now. Surely, the Duke would not send his men after him for taking in a homeless boy just because of his father, would he? What if he refused to take him, could he handle the rejection after all else he had lost? No, Ewen would likely take him in regardless of the danger to himself or his family. Azerick was sure of that. But did he have the right to put that kind of burden on his friend? Was Azerick’s life worth jeopardizing the lives of his only friend in the world and his family? He did not know, so he decided to sleep on it. He was exhausted from walking, weeping, and the sorrow that threatened to destroy him.
Fortunately, it was summer and it was not raining. He curled up in a ball against one filth-littered wall of the alley, surrounded by trash; he used his bag of clothes as a pillow, and quickly fell into a restless sleep. He did not know how long he had slept; he figured it could not have been long, before the sound of footsteps alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in the alley.
He came fully awake to hands grabbing him roughly around the waist as strong arms lifted him from the ground.
“Well, what have we here?” a voice asked, carried by the foulest of breath. “A wee little cully all by his lonesome left out like a present just for me.”
With the exception of being caught by the guard for stealing and freezing to death in winter, predation was the greatest danger facing the city’s street children. At first, he thought slavers had grabbed him, usually to be sold in Sumara, far to the south. But a completely new kind of terror coursed through Azerick’s body as he tried to fight the hands that were now grabbing roughly at the laces of his breaches. Azerick fought his rising panic and forced himself to think quickly but calmly.
He caught a brief reflection of light from the belt of the man attacking him. He reached back, grasped the hilt of a knife or dagger, and pulled it out. Reversing his grip on the handle of the blade, he thrust it behind him into the soft flesh of his attacker. The man let out a bellow of pain and surprise and released his grip.
“You done stuck me, ya little bastard!” the man bellowed as he pressed his filthy hands against the profusely bleeding wound.
Azerick did not hesitate. Using the training Master Ewen had instilled, he ducked low and spun around the man, pivoting on his right heel and swinging behind his assailant. As the man staggered and held his hands over the fresh wound in his belly, Azerick drove his newly acquired blade into the man’s right kidney. Azerick knew from his studies that the kidney was especially vulnerable and caused an enormous amount of pain when struck or pierced. He was quite familiar with anatomy and knew the location of most of the body’s tender parts.
The man seemed to choke on the scream that tried to escape his lips as the incredible pain lanced up his back, completely overriding the pain of his original wound. He dropped to his knees in front of Azerick while trying to reach behind him and put his hand over this newest source of agony.
Azerick thrust forward once more, stabbing the man high in the back. The knife skipped off the bottom of the
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