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

by Hogan, Mitchell

  “My lady, it looks like we have it under control. Around thirty of the jukari’s soldiers and servants have been taken prisoner.”

  “Kill all of them,” she had said.

  Aidan hesitated, unwilling to argue with her. “My lady, they all swear they were forced to serve the jukari. Their only choice was to serve or be killed and eaten like the others.”

  Coldness crept into Caitlyn’s voice. “They’re probably lying. They chose to betray their humanity, to save their own lives and become tools for the destruction and enslavement of their fellow men. Aidan, there is a place for mercy, but when we seek to annihilate an absolute evil we must destroy it absolutely. Evil is a cancerous growth. Show mercy or hesitate and you leave kernels to start spreading anew. We must kill them all.”

  The order was given, and so ended another great day in Lady Caitlyn’s life. An end to another enclave of evil. The destruction of evil, that was her purpose in life.

  She started from her reverie as four mugs were deposited on the table by the grubby innkeeper. He grunted then went back to the bar. Caitlyn grabbed the mug that didn’t have foam on top and took a swig of wine, washing the sour liquid around in her mouth to remove the taste of the road. She spat the mouthful into the fire, which hissed and sizzled. A few patrons looked at her at the sound but quickly went back to their own business under Caitlyn’s glare.

  Someone here knew about her quarry, she could sense it.

  The inn door opened again and admitted her men, who, spotting her by the fire, came over and took chairs of their own.

  Aidan, young and full of fervor for their cause. Chalayan the sorcerer, whose goals were his own but who served her willingly for the time being. And Anshul cel Rau, a master swordsman from the treeless Steppes, whose skill with his two blades was legendary. All had been in her company for years, and all knew there was no resting where vanquishing evil was concerned. It was often a thankless task, as many cities and towns were too self-absorbed to see the whole picture and how evil must be excised. Many people were incapable of seeing how deeply the roots of evil could grow, and how far spread they could become. Obliterating such evil was always bloody, and the price could sometimes be high, but she knew any price was worth paying to rid the world of such malevolence.

  Chalayan looked around the inn and sniffed. “My lady, I always express confidence in your ability to know when something is awry, but perhaps this time your nose has led you astray?” He sipped his brew and grimaced at the sour taste. “The only thing troubling about this place is the poor quality of the ale.”

  Anshul cel Rau nodded, although he had downed half his ale in one go. “Too yeasty,” he remarked, always a man of few words.

  She watched as he finished off the rest of his mug then half turned on his chair to keep everyone at the inn in his sight. Both hands dropped to his sword hilts, as if he were expecting trouble from the innocuous patrons, half of whom at this time of night were too drunk to stand, let alone offer a serious threat.

  “I would bet gold ducats against silver they have been through here,” she said. “If I were the gambling type.” Gambling was for the weak-willed and the immoral.

  Chalayan shared a look with Aidan before replying. “My lady, to be honest, we don’t know what they have done or to what extent they may be involved with whatever is going on.”

  She was sure something was amiss, and she was never wrong. Except once, when she had been young. Her stepfather had done something terrible and she had made him pay.

  Caitlyn rubbed her eyes and took a breath. Some memories should stay buried.

  She looked around at her men. Flawed, all of them. But the best tools she had at the moment.

  Days ago Steyn, one of her informants, sent news of strange goings on in a nearby town named Boarsrun. Curious and disturbing.

  According to Steyn’s letter, they had witnessed weird behavior exhibited by two farmhands. Known to be hard up for ducats, they had appeared in the town dressed in good quality merchants’ clothing, scrubbed clean, hair neatly trimmed. A stark contrast to their normally worn, dusty and unkempt appearance. Unbeknown to them, Steyn had followed them late one night when they visited a nearby graveyard, dug a grave and buried two shapeless bundles wrapped in canvas. Steyn had unearthed the grave after the farmhands had left and found the bundles to contain corpses, shriveled and gray, human yet desiccated, as if drained of all moisture.

  After receiving his message, her band had ridden hard for Boarsrun, where they questioned Steyn and set off after the two remarkably changed farmhands, who had traveled south a few days previously. They were heading in virtually a straight line to Anasoma, which itself was strange. Usually, travelers and merchants’ routes to Anasoma were in an easterly direction towards the coast, before turning south along the coast. The traveling was much easier due to the quality of the roads and a lesser likelihood of bandits. Though the empire had done its best to quash any bandits operating within its borders, it hadn’t fully succeeded in wiping them out.

  Caitlyn and her men wouldn’t have any issues with bandits. One look at their numbers and the amount of weapons they carried was enough to deter anyone bent on troubling them. Two lone farmhands might not have such an easy journey.

  She had thought long and hard on why they had taken this route and couldn’t think of a plausible reason. She didn’t like uncertainty.

  A short time later, after they finished their goat stew, Caitlyn shook herself from her thoughts. It was time. The first step to hunting evil was to show no mercy.

  “Chalayan,” she said quietly.

  The sorcerer looked at her, frowning. “Yes, Lady Caitlyn?”

  “Go outside and prepare the men, then make sure no one can escape the building.”

  Chalayan licked his lips, flicked a glance to Aidan and cel Rau, then quickly exited through the door.

  “M’lady…Caitlyn…” pleaded Aidan. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “Of course we do. Someone here is bound to know something. We cannot tarry while evil goes unchallenged.”

  Her young lieutenant closed his eyes.

  Weak, thought Caitlyn. Only she had the stomach for what needed to be done.

  She motioned to cel Rau, and the swordsman positioned himself by the door.

  Standing, Caitlyn drew her sword, the crafted blade glowing orange with reflected flames from the fire.

  “Listen up, everybody!” she shouted.

  Voices stilled, and shocked and angry expressions turned to her.

  “One of you knows something, and I mean to find out who and what.”

  She pointed her blade at the innkeeper, who cringed back a step, fear written large on his face. “I think we’ll start with you.”

  A soft drizzle fell across Caitlyn’s camp. Dusk had fallen, and they had found a grassy patch off the road which became their campsite for the night. A brook trickled close by to provide them and their horses with fresh water, and a number of cooking fires dotted the camp.

  Lady Caitlyn made sure all her men were at ease and had spoken to each in turn before seeing to her own comforts. She set up a canvas covering between two saplings to keep out the wind and rain, and had boiled herself some tea, which she drank from a metal mug, both hands wrapped around it for warmth.

  She stared into the flames of her fire. The drizzle had been unrelenting throughout the day, and everyone was cold and ill-humored. Perhaps she would let the men build up the fires tonight; it would give them comfort against the disheartening sprinkle. Some were good men, but most were only with her because of the rewards. Gold and silver ducats for some, other pleasures for the rest. She had led many raids with a lot of killing. Spoils were evenly distributed, and if her men dealt harshly with those that trafficked evil, then she turned a blind eye. To what happened to the women included. When you make a deal with evil, as they had, you had to accept the consequences.

  Hooves striking the road snapped her thoughts back to the present. All activity in the cam
p ceased for a moment before Aidan met her gaze and gave a nod. He strode with determination toward the road.

  Caitlyn gulped the rest of her tea, scalding her tongue. She collected her sword belt and strapped it on as she hurried after him. The scouts were returning, and as usual she liked to receive their report personally.

  She made her way through the wet grass and stopped beside Aidan, who stood staring into the distance.

  As the horses approached, Aidan gave a low whistle. The air from his mouth fogged as it came out. The temperature had dropped rapidly in the clear night sky.

  Caitlyn heard one of the horses snort, then an answering whistle came in response.

  She sighed, realizing she had been holding her breath, and her hand squeezed her sword hilt. She released it and stretched her aching fingers.

  A few moments later, the scouts stopped their horses and dismounted. She nodded to both as they approached. Both men were tired, as usual. Spending the day trailing someone, constantly alert and on the lookout for danger, took its toll on even seasoned veterans.

  The senior scout, Watkins, stepped forward and gave a short bow.

  “My lady, they’ve stopped for the night off the road. They didn’t find a very good spot and have a blazing fire going. It’s like they aren’t trying to keep a low profile.”

  Caitlyn smiled and nodded. “Thank you. Go and get yourselves a hot meal and some rest.”

  The two scouts shuffled toward the camp, leading their horses. Caitlyn stood still, staring up the road in the drizzle at a tiny orange glow, the telltale sign of a fire at night.

  “Why do you think they made no effort to keep their fire inconspicuous? They must know there could be bandits around.”

  Aidan chewed his lip, a habit she had given up on breaking him of. “I can’t say. You would think farmers would have done some hunting and know some bushcraft.”

  “I don’t think we will know until we put them to the question. Make sure the men rest up tonight, so they’re ready in the morning. After the last few days’ hard riding to catch up with these two, we could all use the break.”

  “We have enough to take them now. I could gather the men and…”

  Caitlyn cut him off. “In the dark and the rain? It’s likely they’ll hear us coming miles away and be gone before we make their camp. No. We hit them in the morning, hard and fast.”

  With a nod, Aidan agreed. “All right. You haven’t led us wrong the last few years.”

  “I should hope not. You’ll see to the men, won’t you? Make sure they’re squared away for the night?”

  “I will, my lady, though they miss the days when you did it. You could…” He waved a hand towards the camp. “…talk to them, like you used to. Show them the old you. They are looking to me more and more for commands you used to give.”

  “I… I’ll think about it. I’m not as close as I used to be. Some of them… I think they don’t truly understand our cause.” She rubbed her temples. “And make sure we capture these alive. No accidents.”

  She sensed Aidan stiffen beside her. She closed her eyes and waited for his objection.

  “My lady, do we need to… question people so harshly?”

  He still struggles, she thought. His weakness hung in the air between them. She let it linger for a few moments before she answered.

  “You know why we have to,” she said in a firm voice. “There are evil forces and people everywhere, and they won’t hold back if they have you in a similar position. Hard tasks mean hard methods. We cannot flinch or evil will prevail. You’ve seen the horrors of evil firsthand. Together, we have seen the depths people can sink to.” Her breath came in short gasps. “We cannot falter. We cannot stay our hand in trying to reach the heart of evil, no matter how distasteful the duty.”

  Caitlyn reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “If we show weakness and through that failing evil is allowed to flourish… then we have failed.”

  They stood still in the cold night air, breath misting in the rain.

  “But… how can we countenance committing immoral deeds ourselves?”

  She shook her head. “We must. Nothing is worse than letting a greater evil escape because we couldn’t bring ourselves to pass a lesser evil. Some things must be tolerated for the greater good.”

  “I just… Sometimes I think we go too far.” He stared out into the night. “As with the villagers helping the jukari. They didn’t deserve to die.”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “It wasn’t right.”

  Caitlyn’s eyes hardened and she frowned. “Your compassionate nature does you credit, but we cannot falter in our duty lest the greater evils go free and unfettered.” She sighed. “Come, you need rest. Let’s go back to—”

  In the distance, the fire erupted into flashes of light. Thunder rent the dark night. Trees cracked. A blinding white flash split the darkness. Then another.

  Spots swam before Caitlyn’s eyes.

  Aidan tugged her back to the camp. “Horses all!” he bellowed. “Leave everything and mount up!”

  Some men stood staring at the flashes continuing in the distance. Cracking sounds and thunder reverberated in the darkness. A number of orange spots appeared — fires burning.

  Caitlyn threw her saddle on her horse and tightened the cinch while one of her men slipped the bridle on. All around the camp men were stomping out the cooking fires and preparing their own mounts. A few horses shied at another thunderous clap.

  “Let’s go!” she yelled. “Gather whoever is ready, and let’s get there as quick as we can.”

  Aidan nodded and stood in his stirrups. “All to me and the lady!” he roared. He spurred forward and out of the camp with Caitlyn close behind.

  On the road, Caitlyn urged her mount to a canter, guiding it along in the dark by making sure the trees stayed on either side. Close behind rode six of her men with torches, the quickest to react. She knew without looking that Anshul cel Rau and Chalayan would be among them.

  They raced towards the farmhands’ camp, cold wind across their faces, clouds of hot breath exhaling from the horses’ nostrils. Shadows flickered across the road, and in the trees, wavering torchlight lent the dash an eerie appearance.

  As they approached the fires, motionless shapes revealed themselves in the dim light. Two forms lay on the side of the road to the left, where a stone-ringed campfire burned, as well as a number of spot fires in the scrub. Three more bodies lay scattered on the road and one further ahead.

  Steam rose from the corpses, and the scent of roasted flesh was heavy in the air. Flickering torchlight revealed clothing blackened and melted onto skin, faces a mass of tiny blisters, hair burned to stubble.

  Caitlyn surveyed the scene and gave a string of orders. “Find the farmhands. Bring the bodies to the campfire. We need more light.”

  She strode to the fire. Bodies were dragged across the ground to where she stood with Aidan and Chalayan. Anshul cel Rau stood quietly in the background, saying nothing as usual, though he scanned the bush around them. Chalayan stood nervously, eyes constantly in motion. He clutched his trinket.

  The six bodies were examined. Scraps of unburned cloth showed their clothes were of poor quality and bore signs of heavy wear. Next to the bodies were deposited a pile of weapons, all black and warm to the touch, a few cheap swords, some knives and a club. Whatever had killed the men had been hot enough to blacken steel and heat the weapons.

  “Bandits’ gear and weapons,” said Aidan.

  Caitlyn grunted assent. “The farmhands, where are they?”

  “These are the only bodies we found. The farmhands were either taken or ran off. Their horses are gone.” He looked into the shadows. “From the look of what happened here, I would say they got away.”

  “Chalayan is spooked. I’ve never seen him like this. I’m guessing the bandits bit off more than they could chew.”

  Aidan nodded. “I agree.”

  “Which means the farmhands are definitely more than they
seem. And they don’t hesitate to use brutal force when they need to. We have to be careful.”

  Caitlyn’s eyes followed Chalayan, who had taken a few steps towards the abandoned campfire. He knelt before it and placed a hand on the earth. After a moment, he stood and brushed his hands, a puzzled look on his face.

  Caitlyn strode over to the sorcerer and took his arm, leading him away from the rest of the men. He looked ashen.

  “What happened here?” she demanded in a whisper.

  Chalayan shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not possible.”

  “It bloody well is. It happened. Now what’s going on?”

  Chalayan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He glanced ahead at the fires in the distance then over to the left, where a thick tree had fallen across the road as if pushed over. He licked his lips.

  “If I were to hazard a guess…” he started.

  “Please do.”

  “Then… this has to be alchemical. A mixture of chemicals caused a massive reaction and release of energy… except…” He hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “There is no residue, no smell of alchemical ingredients. And… there is a residue of sorcery.”

  Caitlyn’s breath caught in her throat. What unholy power had she unearthed? “Sorcery did this?” She gestured at the body and the fires.

  Chalayan shook his head, troubled. “It isn’t possible. There has to be another explanation.”

  “In the absence of another one, we have to assume they are powerful sorcerers, whose abilities surpass any we have seen before.” She stood and wiped her hands on her pants. “What a mess.”

  Swallowing, Chalayan closed his eyes. “All around, there is sorcerous residue, as if a powerful crafting was performed, but… nothing like I’ve ever experienced.” Caitlyn could see him shaking. “It’s as if someone tried to draw from their well and lost control, but when that happens the sorcerer is consumed, and when they die the well closes. Here, it’s like a deliberate crafting, a destructive crafting.”