A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (24 page)


And if I am? I’m unable to discuss any….particulars of petitions… with strangers… especially when they claim to represent one of the parties… without offering any substan – substantiation of such a claim.

Vasile slurred a couple of words but thought on the whole he had done well. Couldn’t these people leave him alone? There would be plenty of time to talk to him tomorrow when he wouldn’t be in his cups and was thinking a little straighter.

The man’s expression remained impassive.

I will be forthright with you. My company is concerned about the damage this case has done, and may continue to do, to our reputation. We believe that a quick resolution in our favor is the best outcome, and in return for such we are prepared to offer substantial compensation. You see,

he leaned in closer to emphasize his point,

this case doesn’t benefit anyone, even William Voltain, although he would disagree. We want to see as little damage done to us and to good William as possible. What is the harm in that?

He drew a bulging purse out and placed it on the table. Coins jingled.

Vasile eyed it.

A bribe, is it?

After the lies today in the magistrates’ building, and the half lies this man was spouting, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be mixed up in this case.


No. Compensation for services rendered. We all want the same thing. Justice for the wronged, swiftly and firmly delivered. Trifling cases such as this one shouldn’t be taking up your time, especially when it is evident William Voltain is upset he was bested in a business deal.

Vasile knew this wasn’t right and he should say something, but his mind was fuddled with drink.


Compensation?

he managed.

To dismiss the case?


To have the correct judgment swiftly delivered tomorrow morning, so you can move on to weightier matters. Like cows and such.

The stranger smiled.

Vasile’s blood rose and his cheeks felt hot. He stood up abruptly, knocking his stool over behind him.


I will not take your ducats,

he said through clenched teeth.

Keep your coins and get out. I do not take kindly to being called corrupt.

The man remained still, looking up at him.

My pardon, Vasile, it was our understanding that you were in a position to take such a generous offer. Indeed, it is our understanding you might be in need of some ducats, what with your fall from grace and your house in such disrepair.

Vasile went redder and felt his blood boiling in his ears. He shoved the purse back at the man.


Leave now. You know nothing about me. How can you know me? My home and my position are no concern of yours.


I think you should reconsider.


No. Get out.

The man grimaced, collected the purse and stood.

So be it. We are not left with any choice.

He nodded to Vasile.

Good evening, then.

He turned and walked out of the inn, leaving Vasile fuming and wound as tight as his watch.

He rubbed his face with both hands.
By the emperor,
he seethed.
What’s going on?

 

It began as every day at the magistrates’ building Vasile could remember. An aching head from the night before. Too bright light streamed in from the windows. His attendant poured a mug of water, which Vasile gulped as if he had spent a day in the desert. Petitioners filed in after their wait outside, and the low murmur of their chatter started to build.

Vasile coughed into his fist repeatedly and wished he hadn’t accepted the free cup of wine last night. Wished the whole sordid episode hadn’t happened. He closed his eyes to rest them for a moment and found he wanted to keep them shut. A few moments more, he thought and listened to people moving around the room, clothes rustling and boots scraping the rough-cut stone floor.


First order of business today,

the attendant intoned too loudly for Vasile’s liking.

Continuation of the petition of William Voltain against the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern.

Vasile opened his eyes to find the innocuous Luphildern Quiss standing tall in front of him next to the attendant. Of William Voltain there was no sign.


Ahem… Magistrate Lauris,

said the attendant.

Sir Voltain is not here…er…


Yes, I can see that,

snapped Vasile. He winced at the pain in his head and took a deep breath.

We’ll wait for him to arrive. No doubt he has been delayed in the morning crowd.

The attendant nodded, as did Quiss. Such a calm, inoffensive man, thought Vasile. He had to be party to the deeds of last night, surely. Or maybe he wasn’t. Perhaps his superiors acted without informing him. All these complications made his head hurt worse.

They waited for a few minutes. Vasile checked his pocket watch. They waited a few more. The attendant shifted his weight and looked at Vasile, as did Quiss. Vasile pointedly ignored them. More time passed.

The flat voice of Quiss broke into Vasile’s thoughts.

Magistrate Lauris, we have been waiting quite some time. I believe this demonstrates the lack of importance Sir Voltain places on this matter. He has no proof of any misdeeds on our part, and his lack of appearance today shows he knows his petition will not be decided in his favor.


Really?

responded Vasile.

I actually have a few more questions for both of you.

A fleeting look of surprise crossed Quiss’s face, to be quickly replaced by curiosity. Quiss gave a short bow.

I will be happy to answer any questions you have once Sir Voltain arrives.

During this exchange, a messenger hurried up to the attendant, who conversed with him in hushed tones. The attendant’s mouth opened, and his eyes widened.


Magistrate Lauris, the messenger has delivered news of import to the case.

Vasile waved a hand.

Go on.


This morning, Sir Voltain did not emerge from his rooms for breakfast,

the attendant said, voice grave.

The household staff, becoming concerned, entered his rooms where they found Sir Voltain dead. He hanged himself from a crossbeam sometime in the night.

Vasile dropped his head and put a hand to his forehead. He groaned as the pain in his head doubled in intensity. He could feel the eyes of the attendant and Quiss on him, waiting for a response. Raising his head, he looked towards Quiss, whose face was composed, bland even. But Vasile saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in the suggestion of a smile. The words of the stranger last night echoed in his thoughts.
So be it. We are not left with any choice.

Complications like this he could do without. He would need to proceed with caution.

Gripping the arms of his chair hard, he spoke.

Due to these unfortunate circumstances, the petition brought by Sir Voltain has no sponsor. As such, it is my duty to inform you the petition has been suspended. If another sponsor appears to take up the petition, then the case will recommence.

He stopped, considered what to say next.


Luphildern Quiss, you have heard my pronouncement and are free to leave.

The representative of the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern looked straight at Vasile and raised his eyebrows.

Such unfortunate news,

he said.

Who would have thought Sir Voltain would be overcome by the misfortunes of his… fortune? Still, I am pleased with the outcome for my company, however the verdict was reached.


The petition is not dismissed, merely suspended. Another sponsor from House Voltain may desire to continue with it sometime in the future.

Quiss shrugged.

I’m confident they will see where their best interests lie in the matter. This whole episode has inconvenienced all of us, some more than others.

Vasile knew he was telling the truth, and his heart beat faster.

Inconvenienced is a mild word for a death.


I can offer no more to someone who was a stranger to me. Misfortune or death can come upon someone so quickly these days, choices one makes which may seem reasonable and appropriate at the time can lead to unforeseen consequences.

He gave a quick smile.

But I am sure we won’t be seeing each other again, Magistrate Lauris. Good day.

He turned on his heel and walked away through the crowd.

Vasile took a few deep breaths, heart racing.

The attendant stared at the back of the departing trader, then shook himself and addressed Vasile.

That was cold of him. He could have at least feigned some sorrow or sympathy for Sir Voltain.


Yes…well… these merchant types only care if it involves ducats.

Vasile swallowed.

Gold is worth more to them than the life of another person.

From all the lies told yesterday, Vasile was sure the face of the petition presented to him was not the whole story. What secret was so important they would attempt to bribe him, and when that failed, kill someone to stop the case in its tracks? The problem was, Vasile wasn’t the type to let something like this rest. He valued the truth more than any man he knew. His talent for telling lies and truth apart made sure of this. And what these people had done to an innocent man to cover their… Vasile paused. They had not committed a crime, as it pertained to the petition brought to him. In fact, in all probability he would have had to rule in their favor. They hadn’t wanted to risk it, or maybe hadn’t wanted closer scrutiny of their dealings and the warehouse. Strong enough to warrant an attempted bribe, and from the looks of things, now a murder.

Vasile gathered himself and told the attendant to bring the petitioner for the next case. Perhaps if he threw himself into his work he would forget Luphildern Quiss and the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern. But he knew he would remember, and knew he couldn’t let it rest.

Chapter Seventeen

 

Caldan clasped Master Garren’s hand warmly. Great relief flowed through him, and for a while he couldn’t speak.

Master Garren grinned at him.

You might not thank me in a few months. The work for new arrivals, apprentices or not, is hard.


That’s no problem. I want to learn more.


Ah, well you won’t be learning much for a while. Helping out the masters and the staff with the upkeep of the building will be your lot for some time. Depending on the other masters, and how much time they can spare, will determine your progress in other areas. Unless you show an aptitude far in excess of what I have seen today.

Caldan’s shoulders drooped, but inside he felt positive about the opportunity he now had to be involved with the sorcerers and learn as much as he could. And have a roof over his head and food. He would never have thought such simple things would elicit so much emotion from him.


I will write you a letter to be presented back here in five days.


Excuse me?

Caldan asked in shock.

Five days?


Yes, I have to organize a few things. It’s not as simple as clicking your fingers.

He punctuated his words by clicking the fingers of his right hand.


I see.

Caldan hesitated. He needed somewhere to stay and food to eat, or he might turn up in five days worse for wear than he was now.

Ah… there is a slight problem.

Master Garren snorted.

Come on, out with it.


I was robbed in the attack this morning,

Caldan said with a sheepish grin.

All my ducats were taken, and my room at the inn was only paid until today…


So you have no coins, no place to stay, and no way to eat?


Yes. It’s embarrassing, but I could use some help. Not coins. I can work to repay you. Whatever odd jobs or such, I am willing to take on.


Hmmm… I have to say, you don’t look like any of the usual apprentices we take on here. They tend to be bookish types, pale and scrawny or overweight, not as robust and athletic as yourself.


The monks teach that physical discipline is connected to mental discipline. Exercise and physical activity are encouraged.


Be that as it may, as I said earlier, we can’t take you on as an apprentice. But I have an idea. You can work for food and board until we can conduct some proper testing of your talent and abilities, then we’ll decide what training you require and how you can best be utilized.

He gave Caldan a hard look.

Nothing is for free in this world. You will be worked hard, perhaps harder than you have ever worked. And all we do is for the good of the guild. Your wants and needs come secondary to that. Do I make myself clear?

Caldan swallowed.

Yes, sir. I understand.

He didn’t know what he was getting into, but he needed some direction and stability for the time being. He realized he hadn’t known what he wanted since his expulsion from the monastery and subsequent troubles. He had been focused on finding something, any work to survive after his coins ran out. He hadn’t stopped to think what he wanted to do. Now it appeared his choice had been made for him out of necessity.

The master drew out a mechanical watch from a pocket and read the time.


It’s late now. You’ll have to follow me. I’ll leave you with someone who can put you to use, and find you a meal and a place to sleep tonight.

Relief flooded through Caldan for the second time.

Thank you. I appreciate this.


Better to find a use for someone with talent than to have you disappear onto the streets again. It happens all the time, you know. People go missing. Those with no ducats to their name have a hard life.


It isn’t what I expected of the empire, but I can believe it. It isn’t an experience I want to repeat, and it’s only been a day for me.


Yes, well… I am afraid you won’t be seeing any silver ducats for some time. Apprentices are occasionally rewarded for hard work and at certain milestones in their training. You are going to have to find another way to fill your purse.


Believe me, three meals a day and somewhere to sleep is my only thought at the moment.


Fair enough. Follow me. I’ll have to see who is available to take charge of you… The Protectors have space, so we’ll go and see Master Simmon. Oh, before I forget.

He scribbled briefly on a sheet of his own parchment from the desk then blew gently on it to dry the ink. Folding it in half, he handed the note to Caldan.

Proof for you to show anyone that asks,

he explained.

Garren led him out of the room and further down the corridor, then across an open courtyard. Dusk had fallen, and two glimmering stars peeked from the night above.

Down another corridor, they exited through thick double doors into a huge open space. A cobbled path arrowed out in front of them, splitting an immaculate lawn dotted with shrubs and trees. The path split towards the end as it approached another set of double doors. Master Garren hurried down the right path, through a section bordered by gray stone cubes every few yards, each big enough to sit on comfortably.

They continued through a gap in the building surrounding the garden and strode through the brief darkness. On the other side lay a torchlit courtyard, this one paved with flat sand-colored stone slabs. The guild was obviously much larger and more extensive than the public facade showing onto the square revealed.

Garren led him across the yard. Three circles were marked off with white chalk, the largest fifteen yards wide, much like the dueling circle used at the monastery for sword training. He realized that was exactly what they were.

They entered a dormitory. Narrow beds poked into the room from both side walls, each with a trunk at the foot. The room looked clean, and the beds were made up with linen sheets and gray woolen blankets. A muscular man with a trim black beard stood at the far end conversing with a boy sweeping the floor.


Ah! Master Simmon.

Master Garren said.

A delivery for you.

He sounded amused.

The bearded man broke off his conversation and appraised them both. Gray eyes roved over them, lingering on Caldan but not stopping on his bruised and scarred face. He took a few steps in their direction, fluid, like water running downhill.


Master Garren, I would have thought you would be at supper by now.

His voice was surprisingly smooth for someone so intimidating.
He has a swordsman’s bearing,
thought Caldan.
Calm but tight, as if ready for anything.

Caldan opened his senses and reached out to evaluate Simmon’s well. It felt constricted and narrow, not at all what he would have expected from a Master Sorcerer. Perhaps the Protectors valued other skills over
crafting
.

A subtle vibration tugged at the edges of his awareness. Simmon wore a thin silver ring and bracelet on his right hand. Caldan’s heart raced. They were
trinkets
.

Garren laughed.

Not yet. I have one last task to finish. This is Caldan, a new recruit.

Simmon stared at Caldan then looked back at Garren, expressionless.

What is he doing here?

Caldan tried to fade into the background.


That’s what I’m getting to. I haven’t placed him yet, and he needs somewhere to stay for a few days, until I get him sorted out. I thought he could stay here with the apprentices, for the time being.


Really?

drawled Simmon.

Not with the journeymen sorcerers? Or with the staff?


I thought there would be less chance for him to get into trouble here. It’s more… organized.

Simmon gave a wry smile.

That it is,

he agreed.

Leave him with me. When do you need him back?


I’ll try for the day after tomorrow, if not, then definitely the day after. I’ll send a boy to pick him up.


Fair enough. I’ll find something to keep him occupied.


Excellent!

Master Garren beamed. He turned to Caldan.

Well, that’s you settled in.

Hardly,
thought Caldan. But he wasn’t about to argue so smiled instead.

Thank you again, Master Garren. I’m extremely grateful to you.

Garren waved a hand in dismissal.

No thanks needed. Work hard, and do your best. Listen to Simmon here, and I’ll see you in a few days.


Yes, sir. I will.

With a short nod to the other master, Garren turned and walked out of the dormitory.

Simmon gestured Caldan over to a bed with no linen on it.

Take this one. It’s not the best bed, being close to the door with the extra traffic that brings, but it’ll do you for a few days. Sheets are in the trunk, and you can lock your possessions in it. Key is in the lock.

Caldan slipped his satchel from his shoulder onto the bed.

Thank you.


What happened to your face? A fight?


Yes, sir, with some thieves in Dockside. I was hit with a plank.

Simmon shook his head in disgust.

Bloody harbor watch should be keeping the area safer for everyone.


They did save me.

Caldan felt he had to interject on their behalf; he wouldn’t like to do their job himself.

If they hadn’t come along I think I wouldn’t be here now. I’d probably be floating in the harbor instead.

Simmon didn’t look convinced.

What’s your story?

He glanced at the boy, who had stopped sweeping the floor and stood staring at them. Seeing the master’s look, he quickly returned to sweeping, head down.


Nothing special. I grew up on Eremite and felt I needed to see more of the world.

Caldan knew telling the truth might generate more questions. Best to keep a low profile until he knew more about the place, sorcerers and the Protectors as well. He didn’t think telling them he had been exiled for almost killing someone would be a good start.


Careful, I see. That’s good, but sooner or later we will know everything there is about you. If there is anything bad, you should tell us first, before we find out on our own.


Good advice. Thank you, sir. Um… I was raised by the monks at the monastery there after my parents… well, they died.

Simmon nodded sympathetically.

They took you in?


Yes. I think they hoped I would eventually become one of them, teaching there or doing some other work to help the monastery. But it didn’t work out.


You studied there, though? Like the nobles’ sons and daughters, who go there for tutelage?


Among other things, yes. I joined in classes when I could. I learnt about a range of subjects and disciplines. But as I found out when I arrived, a good overall education and set of skills didn’t exactly set me up to be able to make a living here.

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