Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) Read online

  Blood of Innocents

  Book Two of the

  Sorcery Ascendant Sequence

  Mitchell Hogan

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Map of Mahruse Empire

  Map of Anasoma

  Dramatis Personae

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Aftermath

  To the Reader

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  BLOOD OF INNOCENTS

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Mitchell Hogan

  Copyright © 2014 by Mitchell Hogan

  First Printing, 2014

  Acknowledgements

  With love, to Angela and Isabelle.

  I would also like to thank:

  Derek Prior, without whose editing and advice I doubt I’d be where I am today.

  Michael J Sullivan and his wife Robin, who provided much needed guidance and selflessly spent a great deal of time answering my endless questions.

  Ray Nicholson, for his excellent feedback and insight. And for picking up the small (and possibly major) errors that almost slipped through.

  But most of all I need to thank the readers, those people who took a chance on an unknown author and purchased A Crucible of Souls. Without you this book would have taken a great deal of time longer to write. Now I’m able to write full time and I’m living the dream. For that I will be forever thankful.

  Map of Mahruse Empire

  Map of Anasoma

  Dramatis Personae

  Caldan, an orphan, and an apprentice sorcerer in the Protectors

  Miranda, an entrepreneur, and ex-sailor

  Amerdan Lephar, a shopkeeper

  Vasile Lauris, a magistrate, once Head Investigator for the Chancellor’s Guard

  Elpidia, a physiker

  Izak Fourie, a noble

  Lady Felicienne Shyrise (Felice), Third Adjudicator to the emperor

  Sir Avigdor, Lady Felicienne’s assistant

  Bees, a dealer in information

  THE PROTECTORS and SORCERERS’ GUILD

  Simmon, a master, Caldan’s mentor

  Jazintha, a master

  Garren, a master

  FIVE OCEANS MERCANTILE CONCERN

  Gazija, the First Deliverer

  Savine Khedevis, Head Trader

  Luphildern Quiss, Head Trader

  Mazoet Miangline, a sorcerer

  Rebecci Walraffen, a sorcerer

  LADY CAITLYN’S BAND

  Lady Caitlyn, a noble crusader

  Aidan, Caitlyn’s second in command

  Chalayan, a tribal sorcerer

  Anshul cel Rau, a swordsman from the Steppes

  INDRYALLANS

  Kelhak, God-Emperor of Indryalla

  Bells, a sorcerer

  Keys, a sorcerer

  Prologue

  Radgir cringed as Kelhak’s laughter echoed around the cabin. The other councilors were kneeling, but Radgir remained standing. The three youngest councilors kept their heads bowed, unable to meet the gaze of the God-Emperor. Radgir kept his expression blank, as they all needed to do these days around Kelhak, for fear of another of his violent outbursts.

  The floor swayed to the movements of the waves, and sorcerous crafted globes hanging from the ceiling caused shadows to dance about the room. Functionaries and hangers-on were prostrate behind and to the side of the councilors.

  He almost forgot himself and shook his head. What had happened to them, and their country? Men and women of once great and critical positions of power reduced to cowering subservience. It had been a slow and subtle degradation. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he would think this was normal. But it wasn’t.

  Radgir looked up and found Kelhak’s eyes on him. He steeled himself to keep from flinching under the penetrating stare. The God-Emperor looked him up and down and sneered. With Radgir’s hair and beard long since turned to white, and his wrinkled skin, no doubt he saw only weakness.

  Kelhak stood, rising from the padded seat on the makeshift wooden throne they’d prepared for him. Even standing on their level, he overshadowed the tallest of them. Forming a protective circle around him stood his Silent Companions. Clad in the finest smith-crafted armor, and bearing crafted weapons, each also wore multiple craftings and trinkets. For though they were expert warriors, they were also sorcerers of great power.

  The God-Emperor rubbed the back of his neck and took in each of his councilors in turn, sneering at their reverence.

  “Has something happened that I am unaware of? Have our forces been defeated?”

  Robes rustled as a few councilors fidgeted and ventured quick looks at one another. Kelhak waited, serene, as the moments passed.

  Radgir spoke. “It’s just that... Anasoma... the empire! Why? We cannot fathom—”

  “That’s correct. You can’t.” Kelhak sighed wearily. “My reasons are my own, and they are beyond you.”

  “But… the empire will be the death of us; it’s too powerful. Taking a city like this is like poking a hornets’ nest! Best for us to withdraw and offer recompense. Explain that it was a rogue officer in our forces, a madman who promised his soldiers loot beyond their imagining. Anything to stop the empire from amassing its forces against us.”

  With a snort, Kelhak held out both hands, fingers splayed. On each was a ring, trinkets all. He made a show of examining them, as if lost in thought. The silence in the cabin grew, marred only by breathing, and a cough.

  “What do you know of power and deception?”

  He removed one of his rings.

  “What do you know of true sorcery?”

  Another finger bare.

  “When have I ever led you astray, in all these years?”

  Three more rings joined the others in his hand.

  “After all this time, you still do not understand.”

  All his fingers had been stripped bare
. He shook his fist, and the rings rattled like metal dice. Greedy eyes were drawn to his hand.

  Radgir had seen this performance before, so long ago. And it was probable he was the only one who had. He was, after all, the oldest of them. Except for Kelhak, who’d been among them for generations, guiding their prosperity and transformation. This display with the trinkets was a lesson, realized Radgir. One Kelhak obviously felt he needed to repeat. As if each generation forgot the lessons of the previous and had to be retrained. As if they were dogs learning a useful trick, who eventually died and were replaced with others, who had to be taught all over again.

  Flicking his wrist, Kelhak scattered his trinkets across the floor. Councilors scrabbled for the rings like seagulls squabbling over a discarded scrap of bread. All but Radgir.

  Kelhak took a step forward. “Thus you are distracted by objects, when the true power lies not with what material possessions you have, but in your ability to change the future.”

  With a look of disdain at his fellow councilors, Radgir spoke again. “My God-Emperor, what could we hope to gain with this invasion?”

  Kelhak rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “So tired...” he murmured, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Chaos. Death. Whatever you make from it. They have something I want. Someone.”

  “But... we cannot fight the empire. We cannot.” Radgir spread his hands in appeal.

  “No, you cannot. But I can.”

  Radgir shook his head but remained silent. He knew better than to argue with the God-Emperor. Forty years in this position, he had been one of the youngest ever to be appointed to the councilor’s role. Kelhak had been God-Emperor then, looking much the same as he did now. And their nation had prospered like no other since he had come to them from outside. But shortly after Radgir has ascended to his position Kelhak’s behavior had become erratic, and he was prone to violent mood swings.

  And this last year, disturbing reports had reached his ears. He hated to rely on concubines for information, but the God-Emperor’s welfare was intricately tied to their own. His spies told of Kelhak waking some mornings, face plastered with fear, body dripping with sweat, before an unnatural calm took over. And one morning a few weeks ago, he had gripped the concubine’s shoulders and shook her, whispering the words, “He has me,” before falling unconscious.

  Outside, the sun beat down on their fleet of ships plowing through the chop as they sped south.

  Chapter One

  Caldan placed Bells on the ground as gently as he could. Her head lolled to the side, and she stirred a fraction before going quiet. He stretched his back and suppressed a curse. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, and he didn’t like the thought of walking far in the rain.

  Ahead of him, Amerdan was leading Elpidia and Miranda along a dirt track between newly sown fields. Behind them, Bees was standing still, facing back the way they had come. Amerdan looked back and gave a short wave, before jogging toward a farmhouse. They needed supplies , and this was an opportunity to lay their hands on some.

  Stifling a groan, Caldan picked Bells up again and resumed trudging along. She wriggled in his grasp, and he barely held onto her. She mumbled something unintelligible, and then her eyes opened.

  Caldan clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Bells clawed at his eyes, and Caldan jerked his face away. He dropped her and grasped her arm, twisting it behind her back, managing to keep his hand covering her mouth. Bells whimpered and went limp, sinking to her knees. Caldan let himself follow her down as the nails of her free hand dug into his arm. He bared his teeth at the pain but didn’t let her go. He shoved her face into the dirt and forced his knee into the small of her back.

  He wanted to throttle her for what she’d done to Miranda. So great was the desire, his hand was on the back of her neck before he realized what he was doing.

  Bells breathed heavily, and air whistled through her nostrils. She squirmed, trying to free herself, but Caldan held on tight. Choking back a sob, he released her neck. He couldn’t kill her, not yet, not before he’d found out how to cure Miranda. And then… he wanted to do it, but could he bring himself to?

  He looked around. Elpidia was staring back at him, and Amerdan was nowhere to be seen. They were too open here; he needed to get to cover, and he couldn’t wait for Amerdan to come back.

  “Listen!” Caldan said to Bells. “You’re not getting away. We’ve taken all your craftings. There are five of us and one of you. It will go easier for you if you calm down.”

  Bells’ struggles ceased.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, you’re going to stand up, and we’re going to keep walking. Nod if you agree.”

  For a moment, Caldan thought Bells was going to fight him again, but eventually she nodded.

  “I’m going to take my hand from your mouth. There’s no one around, so no point in yelling.”

  Bells nodded once. Caldan slowly removed his hand and twisted her around, grabbing both her arms. She stared at him with pure venom.

  “You’re a strong one, aren’t you?” she said.

  “When I have to be,” Caldan replied. With any luck, she’d think he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t try to escape again.

  “It won’t matter in the end. I’m going to kill you all.”

  As Bells spoke, Bees came running up. “There are seven soldiers following us,” he said.

  Caldan smiled thinly. “We either make a stand or run.” He glanced toward Miranda, then at Bells. “I don’t think we’d make it far before they caught us.”

  “We can’t fight seven fully-armed soldiers. There are only four of us, and we’re not trained fighters.”

  “By the ancestors!” Caldan’s crafted wristband wouldn’t stand much more strain, and they were exhausted already. He knew fighting the soldiers would just get them all killed.

  He made a decision. “Bells is our leverage, and my hope for Miranda. We run. We have no choice. There are plenty of farms and homesteads around here, by the look of things. They’ll have to search them all. That should give us some time. Come on.”

  Caldan kept one hand clamped around Bells’ wrist and pushed her ahead. “Let’s get moving.” He forced Bells ahead of him, and they slogged through the mud. An hour ago the skies had opened, and a cold rain poured down. At first it only made them miserable, but it was now heavy enough to drown out the sounds of his companions close behind him. He was constantly wiping a trickle of water from his eyes as it ran down from his head, and the ground was now one big puddle. To his left, the placid stream they’d been following had swelled until it raged like a miniature whitewater river.

  Bells turned and looked at him sullenly, and Caldan found he didn’t care a whit what she thought. She was trussed with rope, only leaving her legs free to walk. Her wrists were bound in front of her, and more rope tied her upper arms to her sides.

  “Caldan!”

  He turned at Elpidia’s shout. She was right behind him, and he hadn’t known. She’d had to yell to be heard over the downpour.

  “We’ve got to get out of this,” she said. “Miranda’s freezing, and so am I.”

  “Amerdan’s ahead looking for shelter. Bees said there were abandoned buildings around here,” Caldan said. “We have to keep going until we find something.”

  “It better be soon.”

  Caldan nodded. He hadn’t realized the rain was so cold. Before he could reply, Amerdan appeared out of the downpour.

  “Good news,” the shopkeeper said. “There’s an abandoned building by the stream up ahead. A sizeable one, too, with a few smaller buildings around it. Maybe an old mill.”

  “Thank the ancestors,” said Elpidia and she pushed past Caldan, dragging Miranda by the hand.

  Caldan felt a pang as Miranda passed without a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

  They followed Elpidia, catching her easily. Amerdan strode ahead, feet splashing, until they reached the old mill. A
large barn door was still intact, while a smaller entrance door looked to have been broken open. It lay sprawled to the side, hanging from one hinge. Vines covered half the building, and inside smelled of mold and animals. A stone stairway led up to another level, but the roof had fallen in long ago. The wooden floor above them kept the rain out, though, apart from a few trickles, but judging from the rot, it wouldn’t be there for long. Attached to the living quarters and the mill itself was a storage area, presumably for grain and flour, with the roof partially caved in. It was depressing, but at least it was shelter.

  Elpidia fussed around Miranda, sitting her down in a dry spot and rubbing her hands.

  Caldan climbed halfway up the old staircase, but one look at the state of the next floor, covered in weeds and grasses, was enough to change his mind.

  Bees grabbed his arm as he stepped from the last stair.

  “How safe are we here?” Bees said. “I’ve led you this far, but soon I’ll be heading back. You’ll have to look after yourselves.”

  Caldan removed Bees’ hand. “If you have to go, then go. But if you’re going back to Anasoma, then I need you to take a message for me.”

  Bees’ eyes narrowed in calculation. “What message? To whom?”

  Caldan shook his head. “Later, before you leave us. There’ll be information you can use. It’ll be worth your while.”

  Bees nodded and left him to join Elpidia.

  “There’s not much in here we can burn,” Caldan said to Amerdan. “I’ll check the other buildings.”

  “I’ll look after the others,” said Amerdan.

  Caldan cast an anxious glance at Miranda, but there wasn’t anything more he could do for her that wasn’t already being done by Elpidia. He stood in the doorway, fat droplets cascading in front of him. He squinted through the downpour. Three shapes denoted other buildings once part of this thriving mill.

  Caldan steeled himself, then ran across the clearing toward the closest shape. He ducked inside an open doorway, shook his head, and wiped water from his eyes.

  Littering the floor were the remains of a table and chairs, decomposing with damp rot. Streams of water trickled through what survived of the roof, though this one seemed in better shape than the mill. There was a doorway to the right, and on his left the room opened out into a large clear space with a packed dirt floor. A still intact wooden trough indicated this was where they kept their livestock at night. He searched around and managed to salvage a few relatively sound chair legs. The next room contained a moldering bed and dresser, and Caldan could only find scraps of burnable wood.