Read Online The Sorcerer's Ascension by Brock Deskins - Free Book Online
Authors: Brock Deskins
Tags: Fantasy
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wouldn’t work for em for all the gold in the kingdom,” Ewen said as he spat on the ground. “You take care of yourself, boy, and take care of your mother. If there is ever anything I can do for you, you know I’ll do it. I just can’t risk my family.”
“I understand. You take care of yourself and yours too. We’ll make it, I know it.”
With those words, Azerick left the alley and wandered the city for hours thinking about the injustice of it all. He thought about who might have been responsible and the revenge he would exact for the loss of his father, home, and friends. He thought about what Ewen had said about the Duke’s actions. They certainly seemed strange. Even if the Duke was involved in some nefarious scheme or conspiracy that made it necessary to sacrifice his father, what could he do about it? He would have to be able to prove it.
Azerick knew he would kill any man, even the Duke, if he were responsible for murdering his father. However, he could only act on proof, not suspicion alone. Even if he did find that the Duke had his father murdered, how would he get to him? Azerick was just a street urchin now. How would a common sneak thief ever be able to take on a man of power like the Duke? Azerick decided it did not matter. Somehow, someway, and some day he would get his vengeance even if it took the rest of his life. He would take down the King himself if he had to.
*****
Celeste was making her usual rounds, serving mutton stew, ale, wine, and spirits to the evening crowd at the less than reputable inn where she worked and lived. It was a boisterous night bordering on rowdy. Several ships had called in to port today and unloaded a large amount of cargo, and the ship crews were blowing off steam as well as the coin they had been paid.
One table in particular had been giving all of the serving women a hard time, groping, pinching, and making lewd comments. Celeste was at this moment fending off the advances of a large, besotted sailor.
"C'mon, love, show old Harlow what you got under them skirts," the heavily built but drunken sailor urged as he pulled her down onto his lap, his breath reeking of powerful spirits.
"The only thing I have for you, sir, is what you see on my serving tray or behind the bar," Celeste said firmly but politely as she tried to extract herself from Harlow’s groping hands.
"Oh listen to the perty tongue on this one, lads. She sounds like a right Lady don't she," Harlow brayed, his breath making Celeste's eyes water. "I bet she knows how to use it for more than just talking too!"
His loud guffaws were accompanied by the laughter of his friends as one of them joined in on his harassment.
"You got it right, Harlow; you got you a real Lady there. I heard she was the wife of a noble or some such before her man got hisself killed for treason," a skinny, filthy sailor informed the drunken sailor.
Harlow's eyes lit up with renewed interest at the new information. "Is that right? Well I never had me a real Lady before. What say you and I go upstairs and have us a bit of fun?"
"I will do no such thing, sir, now unhand me!" demanded the accosted Celeste.
"Oh come now, I just got paid and I know all you serving gals are just whores with a side job, now let's go," he insisted, standing up and pulling her towards the stairs.
"I said no!" Celeste shouted and upended a large flagon of ale over the belligerent sailor's head.
Harlow's face turned red at the rebuke as well as the embarrassment he felt by the other patrons' laughter.
"Teasing whore!" he shouted in rage and threw her to the floor upending her tray of stew and beverages.
The food and drinks came crashing down, much of it landing on her, soaking and staining her clothes. Harlow was reaching into his vest with a look of pure wrath in eyes when Delbert, the fat innkeeper, intercepted him.
"Here now, sir, leave her to me and I'll take care of you and your friends," the innkeeper said, gently laying a restraining
“I understand. You take care of yourself and yours too. We’ll make it, I know it.”
With those words, Azerick left the alley and wandered the city for hours thinking about the injustice of it all. He thought about who might have been responsible and the revenge he would exact for the loss of his father, home, and friends. He thought about what Ewen had said about the Duke’s actions. They certainly seemed strange. Even if the Duke was involved in some nefarious scheme or conspiracy that made it necessary to sacrifice his father, what could he do about it? He would have to be able to prove it.
Azerick knew he would kill any man, even the Duke, if he were responsible for murdering his father. However, he could only act on proof, not suspicion alone. Even if he did find that the Duke had his father murdered, how would he get to him? Azerick was just a street urchin now. How would a common sneak thief ever be able to take on a man of power like the Duke? Azerick decided it did not matter. Somehow, someway, and some day he would get his vengeance even if it took the rest of his life. He would take down the King himself if he had to.
*****
Celeste was making her usual rounds, serving mutton stew, ale, wine, and spirits to the evening crowd at the less than reputable inn where she worked and lived. It was a boisterous night bordering on rowdy. Several ships had called in to port today and unloaded a large amount of cargo, and the ship crews were blowing off steam as well as the coin they had been paid.
One table in particular had been giving all of the serving women a hard time, groping, pinching, and making lewd comments. Celeste was at this moment fending off the advances of a large, besotted sailor.
"C'mon, love, show old Harlow what you got under them skirts," the heavily built but drunken sailor urged as he pulled her down onto his lap, his breath reeking of powerful spirits.
"The only thing I have for you, sir, is what you see on my serving tray or behind the bar," Celeste said firmly but politely as she tried to extract herself from Harlow’s groping hands.
"Oh listen to the perty tongue on this one, lads. She sounds like a right Lady don't she," Harlow brayed, his breath making Celeste's eyes water. "I bet she knows how to use it for more than just talking too!"
His loud guffaws were accompanied by the laughter of his friends as one of them joined in on his harassment.
"You got it right, Harlow; you got you a real Lady there. I heard she was the wife of a noble or some such before her man got hisself killed for treason," a skinny, filthy sailor informed the drunken sailor.
Harlow's eyes lit up with renewed interest at the new information. "Is that right? Well I never had me a real Lady before. What say you and I go upstairs and have us a bit of fun?"
"I will do no such thing, sir, now unhand me!" demanded the accosted Celeste.
"Oh come now, I just got paid and I know all you serving gals are just whores with a side job, now let's go," he insisted, standing up and pulling her towards the stairs.
"I said no!" Celeste shouted and upended a large flagon of ale over the belligerent sailor's head.
Harlow's face turned red at the rebuke as well as the embarrassment he felt by the other patrons' laughter.
"Teasing whore!" he shouted in rage and threw her to the floor upending her tray of stew and beverages.
The food and drinks came crashing down, much of it landing on her, soaking and staining her clothes. Harlow was reaching into his vest with a look of pure wrath in eyes when Delbert, the fat innkeeper, intercepted him.
"Here now, sir, leave her to me and I'll take care of you and your friends," the innkeeper said, gently laying a restraining
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