A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (16 page)

Chapter Thirteen

 

Caldan rolled onto his side again and pushed his thin blanket away. He had tossed and turned for the whole night and had drifted in and out of a restless sleep. His muscles protested as he rose and stretched then drank a few mouthfuls from a flask of heavily watered wine he had bought. It quenched his thirst but left a sour taste in his mouth. He missed the plain drinking water at the monastery, but most water in the city couldn’t be trusted, despite the aqueducts, so many people drank ale or watered wine instead.

Dawn began to brighten the dirty window of his room, and he felt a restless need to get out and stretch his legs before breakfast. Descending the stairs, he passed through an empty common room and out onto the street, which was virtually empty at this early hour except for one or two early risers. Without thinking, he headed left and walked towards Dockside. Since arriving, he hadn’t been back there and wondered if perhaps it looked and felt better in the early morning light.

Streets and buildings he passed looked completely different, coming as he was from another direction, and it gave him an eerie feeling of being in a strange new place.

Anasoma was big, large enough that it would take almost a day’s walk from one end of the city to another. Even if you took the main roads, there was always traffic, which slowed your progress. To Caldan it was too big, too much traffic, too many people, roads too wide and chaotic. Walking in the early morning showed him another side of the city, one more peaceful, despite the smells of urine, smoke and sweat lingering in the air. The few people he passed in the street still kept their eyes to themselves, though.

Without the usual crowds, it wasn’t long before he reached the docks. The Otter was much closer to the water than he thought. Ships bobbed in the morning swell, decks deserted save for the few crewmen of each ship on watch. At the end of the closest wharf he could see the
Loretta
was still in port. He decided against a visit, since most likely everyone would be still asleep, or drunk in a tavern somewhere.

A few dirty shapeless lumps lay behind piles of crates covered with canvas, homeless men having found somewhere out of the wind to sleep the night. Soon they would be lined up at the docks, hoping a ship would be in need of cheap labor for a day or a few hours.

Caldan walked along the dock front before heading down a side street, eager to explore the city and see what this district had to offer. A few turns later, winding through an alley between two stone buildings, he came upon a plaza with six exits, the windows and balconies overlooking the space all shuttered tight. Choosing a passage at random, he ducked into a series of narrow alleys. Garbage had piled up here and there, and the smell of something rotten filled his nostrils.

Turning, he started back the way he had come, but an older man stepped from a dark alcove filled with rubbish. He was broad-shouldered and had wild eyes that bulged from under a mop of dark hair. Dirt smudged his face, and patches of skin showed through his ragged clothes.


Hi there!

the man called, eyes flicking left and right.

You lost?

A scrape behind Caldan alerted him, and he twisted his head to see two more men emerge from garbage piles against the walls. They moved to block the alley.


Yeah,

one of them said.

Looks to me like he needs some help, Zeke.

He smiled, showing brown teeth.


No names, idiot!

the first man said.

This isn’t good,
thought Caldan. He retreated a few steps until his back brushed the side wall, trying to keep all three in view.

I’m not lost, just took a wrong turn. Sorry to bother you, gentlemen.


Ooh gentlemen, is it?

the third ragged man said as they came closer, forming a half circle around him. All of them now had feral grins pasted on their faces.

Caldan’s hand felt for his half full purse, the only ducats he had left, but he wasn’t in a position to bargain.

Here,

he gasped,

take it. I don’t want any trouble.

Zeke’s expression turned sour and he sneered. The other two took a step closer, almost in unison. They must have done this before.

Well, thank you kindly for offering us what we can take anyway. Is that a joke? ’Cause we don’t think it’s funny, do we, boys?

They all laughed as Zeke snatched the purse from Caldan’s hand, and practiced fingers felt through the material. His expression darkened.


What’s this? There ain’t hardly any coins in here!

Zeke’s two cronies stepped in and grabbed Caldan’s arms.


It’s all I have. Take it and leave me alone.

Caldan became acutely aware that he hadn’t thought to obtain a weapon of any kind as so far nothing in Anasoma had been cause for alarm. Swords were forbidden, but he wished he had purchased a heavy walking stick.

Zeke stepped forward and, before Caldan could react, elbowed him hard. Caldan’s head rang, and the buildings tilted wildly around him. His legs felt like jelly, but the two men held him upright. He could smell their rotten breath and the rancid odor of their bodies.


You bloody shit!

Zeke shouted.

Think you can walk here in our territory and get off with a few coins? You boys know what happens when someone can’t pay the toll.

Zeke backed off a few steps and picked up a length of thick wooden plank lying on the ground.


We sure do, boss.

The man holding Caldan’s right arm guffawed as he tugged him closer.

You shouldn’t come here if you don’t belong, and if you can’t pay us proper, you gets a beating.

Caldan tensed and shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. Zeke came towards him with the plank held in both hands.

Fear and anger boiled up inside Caldan. He jerked his arms together, and to his surprise the two men holding them both stumbled and thumped into each other in front of him. Zeke tried to check his swing but the plank thudded into one of his own men with a crack, and the man yelped in pain and shock.

Caldan lashed out with his knee, hitting the man on his left in the stomach, who dropped like a stone and released his grip.

Zeke slammed into Caldan, and he flew back against the wall. He gasped for breath. A fist caught him in the side of the head. He went to his knees, blood roaring in his ears, right arm twisted behind his back.


You bastard,

Zeke bellowed, face turning red.

I’m gonna smash your face in!

He stepped back to make room and swung the plank.

Splintered wood hit Caldan in the face, knocking his head back into the wall. Burning pain filled his face. Metallic tasting blood flooded his mouth, his vision blurred.

He shook his head and looked up to see Zeke take a step back. The plank moved for another strike.

Caldan’s left hand clenched into a fist and struck out at his captor to the closest vital spot he knew. It connected with the man’s plums with a sickening thud. He squawked and fell to the ground, curled into a ball, both hands clutched between his legs.

Caldan dropped on top of him. The wind of the plank passing above his head ruffled his hair. It hit the wall, and the jarring impact drove it out of Zeke’s hands.


Argh!

exclaimed Zeke.

Caldan rolled off the man and staggered to his feet. Zeke clenched and unclenched his fists. Both his cronies were down, one sucking in lungfuls of air to get his wind back, the other whimpering like a dying dog.

Zeke’s expression had gone wilder.

Oh, you’re really gonna get it now. You’re gonna wish you weren’t born.

Caldan eyed the exit to the alley back the way he had come. If he could get enough room to slip free…

Zeke rushed at him, arms outstretched. Caldan pivoted and lashed out with a fist. His knuckles cracked, and a sharp pain exploded in his hand. The impact to Zeke’s head drove the man to the ground.

Caldan staggered to the other side of the alley and leaned against the wall. Something warm trickled down the side of his face where the plank had hit him. He wiped at it and his hand came away scarlet. Drops of blood dripped onto the ground. He couldn’t focus on what to do next.

Zeke stood, face twisted into a murderous sneer, and tugged his winded companion to his feet.

You’re bloody dead now. I’m gonna kill you!

Caldan steadied himself, wiping his sticky hand on his pants. Zeke and his companion moved to either side.

A shout came from Caldan’s left.

Halt! Harbor watch! What’s going on here?

Zeke and his companion reacted instantly, grabbing their third comrade and dragging him as fast as possible down the alley away from the voice.

Caldan collapsed against the wall as the pounding of booted feet came closer. Two pairs stopped in front of him, while another three continued past in a halfhearted shuffle, no genuine attempt to catch Caldan’s attackers.

A few moments later, they returned empty-handed, and all five pairs of boots stood around him in a semicircle.


What are you up to?

questioned a gruff voice.

Caldan looked up into five hard faces. Rough and weathered, the men were clothed in boiled leather, and metal-shod batons hung from their belts.


They robbed me,

Caldan croaked. He couldn’t feel one side of his face.


You alone?

Caldan nodded, wincing at the pain in his head.


Then of course they did. What are you doing in this area alone? Don’t you know better?


Apparently not,

managed Caldan.

I just wanted a walk, to explore a bit.

All five men shook their heads at him in disgust. One spat into a pile of garbage.


Well that’s stupid.


Yep,

another one said.

Caldan hung his head. Something wet he had sat on started seeping into his pants.


Listen, you’re obviously new here, so I’ll give you some advice. Stay to the main streets, preferably with friends, and don’t wander around at night or early morning.


Can’t you catch them? They took my purse, all my ducats.


They’re long gone. We catch them in the act or we don’t catch them at all.

Caldan rubbed his burning eyes. He felt a quiver in his voice as he replied.

That’s it? Walk away and forget about them?


We don’t have time to search the streets. That’s the way things are. Ain’t no use complaining. We stopped you getting killed, didn’t we?

Caldan nodded, causing another sharp pain in his head. He thought it wise not to move it for a while.

I suppose.

He stared at his bloody hand.

The watchman in charge gestured, and strong arms lifted him to his feet, where he wobbled unsteadily.


You feeling right enough to walk?


I’ll walk out of here, that’s for sure,

replied Caldan. He wanted to leave the reek of the alley and the whole morning far behind him.


We’ll make sure you get back to the main street, then you’re on your own.


He don’t look too good, Sergeant. Maybe we oughta take him to a physiker.


Crap. I guess we better. Elpidia isn’t far from here. Let’s go, and make sure he doesn’t lag behind.

Firm hands grabbed Caldan again and he let himself be led through twists and turns of alleys. The group briefly traveled along a main street, where morning passersby gawked at the harbor watch and their blood-covered companion.

They stopped at the brightly painted red door of a narrow house. A window to the street showed floral curtains and bunches of dried, hanging herbs.

A heavy fist banged on the door, and a face appeared in the window then quickly disappeared. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in drab brown workmanlike pants and tunic, and an apron with many pockets.


Harbor watch,

she greeted the men in a serious tone.

What’s happened here?

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