Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (6 page)

With a grunt, the shopkeeper drew a long strip of ragged cloth from one of his pockets. It looked to have been torn from a piece of clothing. Gesturing, he drew Caldan and Elpidia in close.

“Gag that bitch sorcerer,” he said. “Build the fire up so it lasts for a time, then get out of here.” Elpidia began to protest, and he raised a hand to cut her off. “We’re heading for the city, correct? But steering clear of the road to avoid any pursuit, which has slowed our progress. And now… there’s no point, if we’ve been found. So, as I see it, we need to use the road to move as far ahead as we can. Tonight. With luck, and a few hours head start, whoever has tracked us will be way behind. We could even make it to Riversedge before them and have a better chance of losing them there.” He shrugged. “Just my thoughts.”

Caldan nodded—as did Elpidia, though reluctantly. To him, the shopkeeper made a lot of sense. Their progress would be slow, though, with both Bells and Miranda limiting their pace. They were weary and in need of more rest, but it was better than waiting here the night.

He held his hand out for the cloth strip. “Agreed,” he said.

Amerdan smiled. “I’ll do it. Just gather your things, and keep quiet about it.”

Chapter Three

Vasile Lauris sipped his mug of water and studied the hard men around him. He had come to think of them all as inflexible, though the truth was that only one of them was: Aidan. The sorcerer, Chalayan, and the swordsman, Anshul, were quite adaptable, once he had gotten to know them.

Around them, the ship creaked and swayed constantly. The tiny cabin felt cramped and claustrophobic, and the air never seemed to freshen, holding a moist rankness he breathed reluctantly.

He eyed the mugs of ale they drank and licked his lips. To his left, Mazoet drained another. The sorcerer drank like a fish, and from what Vasile had seen of his appetite, ate enough for three men. And every time Vasile met with Aidan for a talk, either Luphildern Quiss or Mazoet followed him like a shadow.

They had spent days on board since Anasoma had fallen. Gazija, ancestors curse him, told them to be patient. All the while, the old man had been in Vasile’s ear, explaining to him the need to persuade Aidan and his men to join with them. Why Gazija couldn’t just talk to them himself, he didn’t know. Perhaps he feared revealing too much of his plans to men with unknown motives and loyalties. Whatever the old man’s reservations, Vasile didn’t appreciate being used in this way. Gazija and Luphildern may have stumbled upon the truth of his talent, but that didn’t give them leave to manipulate him.

He guessed Aidan and his men would be hard to persuade to support anything that was against their code. But nothing Gazija’s people had done so far was out of the ordinary. It could be Gazija’s sorcery that was the dividing factor. Chalayan was clearly in awe of Mazoet. While Aidan regarded Mazoet with an element of wariness, if not outright distrust.

Vasile snorted into his water and coughed, choking as some went down the wrong way.

Around him in the cabin, the four men laughed. They sat in chairs around a table.

“Water too strong for you?” asked Chalayan with a smirk.

Anshul cel Rau belched and poured himself a refill from a jug, remaining silent, while Aidan smiled. Though they had been stiff and formal when Vasile had appeared, trailed by Mazoet, all four had been drinking for hours, and their carefree manner had increased, along with their banter, and postures relaxed the longer the night went on.

That Mazoet was here meant he was watching on behalf of Gazija. Vasile had figured out that much. The old man had his people under tight control, and they revered him. They all owed the man—or whatever he was—their lives. Gazija’s frail exterior belied his true power over those that reported to him. The vague tidbits of information Quiss had seen fit to dole out to Vasile had only made him curious. Unclear assertions that they wanted to ‘correct the ills done’ and to ‘make amends’ for a supposed other faction did little to assuage Vasile’s disquiet.

Mazoet crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair, which creaked alarmingly due to his bulk. “So, Vasile,” he said loudly and with a jolliness that rang false to Vasile’s ears. “How can we trust a man that doesn’t drink?”

Vasile smiled weakly. Mazoet should be helping him, shouldn’t he? Not making things harder. “I’ve had more than my fair share of drink, and vowed I’d never touch the stuff again. I don’t think that makes me untrustworthy; if anything, it shows a strength most men don’t find in themselves.”

“Strength?” asked Mazoet sceptically. “Or weakness?”

Vasile scowled. “More strength than you’re likely capable of.”

“You’ve no idea what I’m capable of.”

“I’m sure you could demolish six roast chickens and a barrel of ale.”

Anshul and Chalayan laughed.

“Here,” interrupted Aidan. “Enough of that. A man’s virtues lie outside his appearance.”

“Or inside,” added Chalayan.

Anshul chuckled. “Mazoet must be virtuous, then.”

“I would have thought that, as someone who saved your lives, ” said Mazoet with quiet dignity, “I’d be accorded more courtesy.”

“Do you think we’d drink with anyone we didn’t trust?” asked Aidan. “It’s only those who’re one of us we can joke with, and drink with.”

Mazoet raised his mug. “To trust, then.”

The others raised their mugs in a toast, and Vasile followed suit with his water. After drinking, he squirmed in his seat.

Vasile gritted his teeth. “Who are you, anyway?” he demanded of Aidan. “Why should we trust you?”

Aidan chuckled softly, while Chalayan glared at Vasile with ill-concealed contempt. Cel Rau merely took another swig of his drink.

“We have a commission from the emperor himself,” Aidan said. “To seek out evil and do our best to destroy it when we find it. He gave Cait—us, a writ. We’re beholden only to him.” Aidan leaned forward, holding Vasile’s gaze with his intensity. “And the things we’ve seen would likely make you spew.”

Chalayan sneered at Vasile, nodding.

“Foul sorcery,” continued Aidan, “that would make you question your faith in the good of humanity. And jukari, what they and the other leavings from the Shattering get up to… you better hope you never see. Malevolence and corruption normal soldiers would shy away from. We’re part of the empire’s defense.”

Vasile sensed the truth in Aidan’s words, and swallowed. Aidan might believe what he was saying, but that didn’t mean it was the truth. It sounded like they were a roving band of mercenaries beholden to no one, with a writ from the emperor condoning whatever they did. No magistrate like him traveled with them, and anyone they considered evil was slaughtered. To his mind, they were no worse than some of the criminal gangs he’d prosecuted.

If Vasile got this wrong, Aidan might think they were being manipulated. Then Aidan and his fanatics would be likely to try to kill them all and torch the ship, and Mazoet was pushing him. He chewed his bottom lip. Think, curse you!

With a sigh, Mazoet thumped his mug down on the table. “Such talent, and he doesn’t know where to start. A shame, eh, lads?”

“What talent’s that, then?” asked Aidan. “And what’s the problem? Maybe we can help?”

“I’m sure you could,” murmured Mazoet.

Vasile shot him a dark look. Years hiding his talent, and now they wanted him to reveal it.

He looked at Mazoet. “Do they need to know?”

“About your talent? Of course! It’s very amusing.”

“Amusing?”

“Yes. Like a conjuror’s trick.”

Vasile glanced at the jug of ale and licked his lips again. With a start, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“So what talent’s this, city man?” asked Chalayan.

“Not drinking ale, that’s for sure,” quipped Aidan, and his men laughed with him.

Vasile turned to him. He had never wanted—no, needed—to expose himself like this before, but perhaps there was a way that wouldn’t put them off side. He cleared his throat and spoke. “In Anasoma, I worked as a magistrate. Do you know what that is?”

“You decided if someone was guilty or not?” asked Chalayan.

“Close enough. I interviewed people who had petitioned us to judge on matters they brought to our attention, and also the people they accused. And sometimes other witnesses. That sort of thing.” He clasped his hands together. “A normal magistrate would manage to see maybe twenty to thirty petitions a week, while I got through closer to a hundred. Do you know what that means?”

“That you didn’t care and weren’t very good?” Chalayan remarked.

Both Aidan and Anshul cel Rau laughed.

Vasile shook his head. “No. Far from it. I could see and resolve so many petitions as it’s… easy for me to tell if someone is lying, or telling the truth, or something in between.” He paused to let the information sink in. Mazoet’s eyes were fixed on him.

Across the table, Aidan shrugged. “I can see how that would help you as a magistrate, but… Not much use anywhere else.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You see, it means I can work out what’s really happening when people are speaking: what they are hiding, or trying to hide, even if I don’t want to. Everyone has secrets they don’t want known, and they shade the truth when they think it will bring them some advantage.” Vasile was trembling now. It unnerved him to speak so openly of what he’d tried to keep hidden for years. “But I know. They can’t hide from me.” He paused and took a sip of water.

Cel Rau looked disbelievingly at his fellows, while Chalayan shrugged.

“I would imagine a great many people wouldn’t like that,” the sorcerer said.

“No, they didn’t. But what they did like was using me when it was convenient, when my talents suited them and they needed an advantage over someone else.” Vasile closed his eyes, of a sudden tired for revealing a truth that had weighed on him like a giant boulder.

“Well,” Aidan said, sitting back and peering into his mug, “I guess I could use a refill.”

“No,” replied Vasile, eyes still closed, and Aidan raised his eyebrows. Mazoet smiled.

“Why not?” asked Aidan.

“Because your mug is still full.”

“Why, so it is.”

Chalayan and cel Rau laughed.

“He probably saw you filling it a while ago and remembered how much you drank!” exclaimed the sorcerer.

With a shake of his head, Vasile opened his eyes and met each of their gazes in turn. “Let’s have a wager. One of you state ten things that I couldn’t possibly know was true or not. I’ll tell you if it’s true or false. One silver ducat for each answer. But, for every one, the wager doubles. So, if I get two wrong, I owe you two silvers; for three, I owe you four, and so on. Agreed?”

Aidan looked at Chalayan, who was grinning from ear to ear.

The sorcerer rubbed his hands together. “I’ll do it. You couldn’t possibly know about me, and some spare ducats always come in handy.”

Mazoet tried to hide a smile behind his hand.

“First, then,” continued Chalayan, “does everyone here witness the wager?”

Murmurs of assent greeted his question.

Aidan gave Vasile a penetrating look.

Vasile raised a hand. “They have to be things one of the others knows, else we won’t know if you are trying to deceive us or not.”

Chalayan looked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment. “My mother’s name was Spring Blossom.” He stared expectantly at Vasile, face devoid of expression.

•

“Five hundred and twelve silvers?” exclaimed Chalayan. Spit flew with his words.

Aidan rose from his chair and stepped between the sorcerer and Vasile. He resumed laughing, along with cel Rau, who was hunched over in mirth. Mazoet chortled as well, shaking his head.

“You made the wager,” said Aidan.

“But… he tricked me! That’s over fifty gold ducats! I’m not paying.”

“I expect you to honor the wager.” There was a warning in Aidan’s voice.

To forestall any argument, Vasile broke in. “Never mind. I was only trying to make my point.”

“See, he even admits he tricked me.”

Aidan shook his head. “He knew whether you were lying or telling the truth ten times. That’s not a trick.”

Chalayan sputtered then glared and pointed at Vasile. “I’m not paying.”

“I said it didn’t matter, and it doesn’t. What matters is that now you believe me.”

“It could be another trick,” muttered Chalayan.

Aidan gave Vasile a thoughtful look. “I don’t think so. Anyway, it’s best if we end the night there. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Behind them, Mazoet gave Vasile a soundless clap then stood unsteadily. “Well, I know I’ve had a bit too much to drink.” He squeezed past the table and stood by the door. “Think on what this means,” he said to them all. “It’s a rare talent, and one that hasn’t exactly brought Vasile wealth and respect.”

He smiled at Vasile and left the room.

Vasile tilted his head at Mazoet’s departing back. Chalayan shrugged Aidan’s hand from his arm and followed.

Cel Rau rose to his feet, rock steady, despite the ale he’d consumed. “Five hundred and twelve,” he said, still chuckling, and nodded at Vasile. “Funny man.”

Chapter Four

On the road leading west, Caldan helped Miranda stumble along, her feet dragging occasionally on the stone. Behind him, Amerdan led Bells, while Elpidia trudged at the rear, gaze on the paving in front of her, lost in thought.

Caldan’s sword—he had to keep reminding himself it was the Protectors’—had tangled in his legs more than once as he looked after Miranda. He’d adjusted the belt, and now it rested against his back, hilt behind one shoulder, where he could reach it with ease.

The empire kept its major roads in good repair, for which he was grateful. Once they had found the paved road last night, it had quickened their pace considerably. And when the emperor sent his soldiers to deal with the invasion, they would be able to reach Anasoma swiftly.

Caldan frowned. But the Indryallans had to know that, which was why they had sealed the city. The longer it took for the empire to know of the invasion, the greater prepared the Indryallans would be when the emperor arrived with his Quivers and sorcerers, and the Protectors. That didn’t make sense, though. Why capture a city as important as Anasoma then wait around until reinforcements arrived and put you under siege? If killing the sorcerers and Protectors had been their only goal, then they were done, and there was no point staying. No, they had to have another objective, unless they hadn’t found or finished what they had come for in Anasoma.