The Sorcerer's Bane Read Free

supped fairly well over the winter months, being part of the Royal Court, but it had been a long time since he’d tasted fresh food. Hyborea’s own fishermen had been hard pressed to bring up a good catch in the frigid waters.
    Therian made a show of offering a large cod to Ymma. The fish’s mouth worked the air helplessly.
    “For your sacrifice, fair woman,” Therian said. “I give you food to strengthen yourself.”
    She took the fish gratefully, although she was too weak to carry it home. At a nod from Therian, Gruum helped her. After leaving her in a tiny cottage, Gruum quickly returned to the King’s side. He found upon his return that Nadja had vanished. He sniffed and refused to worry. The girl could take care of herself well enough.
    The seaweed creatures kept working and the fish kept piling up. The smell of the sea was overpowering. A townsman dared to approach the King, seeing that he was in a good mood. With his hands trembling and his lips twitching into a terrified smile, the townsman begged for Therian’s leave to speak.
    “What is it, man?”
    “I only wish to point out, milord,” said the townsman, “that we have many fish, but no bread, nor milk. Is it possible…?”
    “Such impudence!” Therian snorted. “So, I am a Djinn now, is that it? I exist to conjure your heart’s desires?”
    “Not at all, sire!” cried the townsman. He fell to his knees. So many fish surrounded him, he appeared to be hip-deep.
    Therian took a step toward him, his brow suddenly clouded. “You can make bread from seaweed, I’ve read of it. Cakes as well.”
    “But how, sire?”
    “That is for you to figure out,” Therian told him. He drew Seeker and tested its edge on one nail. “Or would you like me to perform a fresh spell for you this day?”
    “No, no!” the townsman said. His hands went up beseechingly. “We will make do with what has been provided! Give us seaweed, and we will make fine cakes from it!”
    Therian nodded, mollified. He cut the air with Seeker then, striking so close to the townsman’s head that a clump of his hair flew away to land upon the mounds of wriggling fish. An instant after he had performed this gesture, the seaweed creatures fell into shivering masses. All over the docks, the beaches and the cobbled streets, they plopped down and moved no more.
    “There is your wish fulfilled,” Therian told the townsman. “Now, mill it and bake it. Or must I summon an oven that fills itself?”
    “Thank you, Great King!” shouted the townsman. “The Dragons smile upon us this day. Long live the King!”
    “Long live the King!” came the murmured chorus.
    Therian nodded and headed back toward the palace. Behind him, Gruum followed.
    As they reached the palace, Gruum saw Nadja waiting for them at the gates. She waved at him and beamed a smile. Gruum nodded in return. He saw she had something in her hands. He thought it might be a lock of hair. He was not sure how the girl had come by it.

-3-

    The night became unseasonably cold, despite the faint warmth of the day. Gruum went to bed in his quarters with a bottle. He’d eaten his fill of cod, and drank his fill of brandy. He felt good, despite the sputtering fire that could not seem to keep his room warm. At midnight, he managed to doze. He hoped the brandy would keep his dreams at bay. Often, upon witnessing an act of disturbing sorcery, he drank heavily the night afterward. It had become a habit of late.
    Gruum turned his head slowly toward his door. He thought to have heard something outside it. He listened for a minute, but the only sound was the crackle of his small fire. He reached forward to stir the ashes and freshen the blaze.
    There it was again. He stood quietly, reaching for his saber which lay on the table nearby. He almost knocked the brandy bottle off onto the floor as he lifted his blade, but managed to snatch the bottleneck from the air as it fell.
    When he turned back to his door, he saw it hung open.
    “My, you