by Frank Gori
Somewhere between his third and fourth step back onto his
old block, Lazeron realized a part of his life was about to end. When the
choices you have are likely death or defection, the Merchant’s Guild doesn’t
seem so bad. He hated linear thinking, beginnings and endings were for boxes
and Lazeron strived to never find himself in a box. Even the block that
comprised his territory was round.
He hoped his school held together and picked a new
leader, but he knew even in that best case there’d be casualties. Unlike other
wizards Lazeron was also of sorcerer blood and had been working the school
system since he was a child. He earned his students and carved out his block,
and he was granted a measure of respect for his blood rights,
It was probably all Emry’s now. Emry ran an up and coming
school before he tried to take Lazeron’s block and absorb his students. Lazeron
played him for fool and used a simple broken wing gambit to get Emry’s boys
into an ambush. Given a choice to join or die, Emry did the smart thing. Now he
likely ran -Laz’s school, The Vicious Cycles, and Lazeron’s block which was
really about six blocks.
That was bad news for a few of Lazeron’s strays. Most
schools were fairly homogonous, all wizards or all sorcerers, heck some were
even all of the same bloodline. In Laz’s thinking the comfort of that was a
mistake, there was greater strength in diversity. Laz’s strays were mostly what
other mages called small powers or little fish. City folk sometimes forget that
one of the most effective tactics of small creatures was to swarm.
Fourteen steps later Lazeron spotted the first signs of
damage. He was already annoyed the sentries weren’t tending their established circular
routes and he had gotten as far unchallenged but damaging the block was too
much. The scorch marks meant either an external fight with a rival or someone
got sloppy with an internal matter.
That was unacceptable. The small businesses and housing
in Mage’s Guild territory operated under mage protection. They didn’t have to
pay in on Merchant’s Guild or Workman’s dues because they paid their school
taxes. Some called the Mage’s Guild a collection of thugs but last Lazeron
checked his taxes still came out better than even Workman's dues. He did loans,
sold caster services, and had working girls too. No one suffered in his domain
and his strays proved to their worth to his advantage.
Marta and Snook were perfect examples. Marta was a female
ogre no one would take on account of her lack of wits. The girl was indeed dumb
but she had power and muscle which was a rare enough combination. She’d never
be the type to advance or even be sent on a mission without supervision but she
was useful. Her violent abilities and tendency were only directed at threats. To
her friends she was sweet as they come. Snook lacked the raw ability to throw a
lightning bolt or fireball but he used what little he had smartly. Snook used
his gift to enhance his abilities with bows and crossbows, he might not be able
to burn you to death with a fireball but a well placed arrow will kill you all
the same.
“Relax Laz, no burn shadow. Was just for show,” said the
gruff voice behind Laz.
Lazeron forgot about Zool. The man walked too damn quiet…
He was right though. Showy displays of power were Emry’s wheelhouse. The boy
had a lot of power but was careless how he aimed it. This indicated Emry was
likely in charge as Lazeron feared. Emry lacked imagination, and to him a mage
was just one thing. It meant trouble for the ones that didn’t fit into his
narrow view. Price on his head be dammed, Lazeron wasn’t about to leave those
that were his behind. Laz was going to collect his strays and he was going to
get that fool minotaur too and burn anyone who stood in his way.
“Aw hell, I remember that look Laz. Go on back thinking
‘bout your numbers we’re supposed to do this quiet,” said Zool.
Three, then one, and four, one, five nine… Lazeron lost
himself in the number for a bit, trusting in Zool’s professionalism. His
invisibility circle would hold for some time. He was in the maddening three,
thirty six, seven, three, thirty six sequence when the sunder stopped him.
They were at the Vicious Cycle’s schoolhouse and the
copper smell of blood greeted them both. The door was wide open and Emry’s
corpse was pinned to it by four expertly placed arrows.
“That who we came for,” Zool asked as the roaring woosh
of a fireball and pained screams came from inside the house.
“Circle round the
back,”Laz instructed in a voice that seemed distant to his own ear.
The bliss roared in his blood as Lazeron called a swarm.
No circle, no abjuration, nothing the numbers could claim. Gods the bliss felt
good. He called another spell and held it, rewarded again by the bliss. It was
like sex, truffles, and being admired all at once. With a swarm of wasps at his
command and lightning ready to pour out of his hands Lazeron walked in his own
front door.
He giggled at a stupid thought. Some
snippet of proverb, saying you can’t go home again.
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