Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (55 page)

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Authors: Mitchell Hogan

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BOOK: Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence)
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He was lying on something hard, but at an angle, not horizontal. He moved to get up but couldn’t. A thick leather strap held his chest down. More restrained his arms and legs. He was strapped to a wooden table which was inclined to the floor.

With rising dread, he looked around. He was in a small room with a dirty window to his left and a door with a metal lock facing him. Whoever had killed Annelie and the Protectors and taken him here would be outside. He doubted they’d leave him alone for very long.

Why hadn’t they killed him as well? Whatever they wanted, and whoever they were, they’d been well prepared. Two armed and armored Protectors, along with a master, were not easy targets, but they’d been killed with an efficiency which implied their attackers were both cunning and resourceful. And ruthless. They’d done this before. Many times.

That he hadn’t been killed meant either they had no idea he was a Protector, or he was their target all along, and the Protectors had been killed in order to capture him.

That thought sent chills across his skin. There were only two things he had which were worth killing for. His bone
trinket
and his blood. And he was sure they couldn’t know about the bone
trinket
; even Joachim hadn’t pressed him on the issue.

Caldan stretched his neck to peer out the window. He was a few stories above the ground. Outside, there was a drop to stained and cracked roof tiles covered with patches of weeds. At the edge of his hearing, there was the faint hum of a crowd, too muffled to make anything out, which meant too far for him to shout for help.

Then he saw the bloodstains on the floor around the table, smears and droplets spattered about, too many to count. That was evidence enough for him as to their intentions.

Ignoring his pounding head, he strained against his bonds, grunting with effort. Long moments passed as he exerted as much force as he could, to no avail. He stopped, breathing heavily, skin slick with sweat. It was no use; the leather straps were so tight they were almost cutting off his blood flow.

Gruff laughter barked from outside. A man spoke, words muffled by the door then fading to silence.

Throwing his weight around, Caldan groaned with effort, wrenching himself from side to side. Underneath him, the table creaked and rattled. None of the leather straps moved. There just wasn’t enough leverage for him to loosen any of his bonds. Blinking sweat from his eyes, he lay his head back on the hard surface and licked his lips, tasting the salty tang of his own sweat. He tried to clear his mind. He wasn’t getting loose and escaping. He needed to come up with a plan.

The trouble was… nothing came to him, and he found himself wondering if this was the end. Would his captors drain him dry to sell his blood and dump his corpse somewhere? Judging from the room, which was well used and prepared for this purpose, he’d say chances of surviving this were almost nonexistent. Would this have been his fate anyway, if he’d listened to Joachim and followed him blindly? People like him, Touched, were used then discarded. Only now, he’d just be discarded, once he’d been drained.

Caldan looked at his hand to confirm his
trinket
ring had been removed. He hadn’t been able to feel it but checked out of a vain hope. He wriggled his shoulders and couldn’t feel the bone
trinket
under his shirt, either. Both had been taken.

He opened his well and sensed around his pockets, a futile search for his
crafting
s which caused his stomach to clench when he couldn’t sense any links.

At least he could access his well. That was good, he told himself. They couldn’t block his well like Annelie had, which meant they weren’t able to use the sword, and all he had to do was get his hands on a
crafting
to make his escape. Maybe they didn’t even know he was a sorcerer. Though how they’d dealt with three Protectors didn’t leave him confident he’d be able to break out and elude his captors.

Then he heard a sound. A scrape like wood dragging across the floor. Voices came from outside the door. There was another scrape then a clunk. A bar being removed. Metal clanked on metal, and the lock clicked.

The door swung open, and a man entered. He was short and slim, with a neatly trimmed beard and a smirk. He was well dressed, and carrying a crafted crossbow, which he kept aimed at Caldan’s stomach, and a square leather kit much like Elpidia’s—so he must have been a physiker. Behind the man, the door closed, and he stood there.

Caldan glared at him, but the physiker remained unmoved. “Who are you?” Caldan snarled.

The physiker ran his eyes over Caldan’s bonds, apparently looking for any sign he’d been able to loosen them. Satisfied Caldan wasn’t going anywhere, he placed the crossbow on the floor near the door.

“Who I am is unimportant,” the physiker said, and stepped close to Caldan, placing the leather kit on the floor next to the table. He opened it and began removing items, placing each on a cloth he also spread out. Some of them were awfully familiar to Caldan: empty glass vials and hollow steel needles, but there was also a large jug. And the vials were larger than the ones Elpidia used.

The physiker wet a cloth with some distilled alcohol, by the smell of it, and wiped the needle. Then he turned to the jug and poured a colorless liquid into it. He added a sachet of white powder. Using a metal spoon, he stirred the mixture until the powder dissolved.

Before Caldan could react the physiker pinched his nose shut and poured the liquid into his open mouth. He coughed as much of the sweet liquid out as he could but couldn’t help swallowing a few gulps.

The physiker stepped back. “That’ll thin your blood and keep you alive for a while.”

Shaking his head, as if to wake himself from a bad dream, Caldan closed his eyes. Elpidia was dead, and now Miranda would be left without anyone who knew her to look after her. With Annelie gone, who knew what would happen to her?

His heart clenched, and he gritted his teeth against the emotions surging inside him. A sound broke him out of his reverie. Humming. The physiker was humming to himself. Caldan opened his eyes just as a hollow needle jabbed into his arm. He writhed in an effort to dislodge it, but his arm barely moved.

The physiker looked on calmly as he resisted.

Eventually, Caldan ceased struggling, and the man gave a thin smile.

“Good,” he murmured. “It’s best if you don’t resist.” He inserted the end of the needle into an empty vial and watched as it slowly began to fill with blood. When it was almost full, he exchanged the vial for an empty one and repeated the procedure.

All the while, Caldan looked on, dismayed, and sick to his stomach.

“Shhh, it’ll be over soon,” the man said, eyes on the vial as it filled.

“You’re a physiker,” said Caldan.

The man glanced at him then back to the vial. “Yes.”

“You’re supposed to help people, to heal them.” Outrage twisted his words.

The physiker seemed to consider what he’d said, but then shrugged. “I do help people.”

“Then help me,” pleaded Caldan.

“Oh, I can’t do that. A long time ago, I was given a chance to weigh the benefit of a few against the benefit of many. I chose the many.”

“And you get paid in gold.”

“That the many can pay in hard ducats is only an additional benefit. You aren’t in a position to understand why I do this. You couldn’t possibly. But if our places were swapped, you’d feel the same way I do.”

“Not likely.”

The man removed the second full vial and replaced it with a third.

“Get this needle out of my arm, and bring whoever’s in charge.”

“I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to convince them to let you go, but… they’ll be here soon.”

A fourth vial was filled and the physiker sealed them with stoppers. He wrapped a thin strip of cloth around Caldan’s arm where the needle had entered his flesh.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“The vials are just the start. There are people waiting for blood, you know. Important people who don’t like to be kept waiting.”

The physiker packed up his equipment and picked up his kit and crossbow. At the door, he paused. “It’ll be like this for a few days. Best you make peace with yourself. It’ll make your time here easier to bear.”

With that, he exited the room, re-locking and re-barring the door, leaving Caldan seething with a combination of fury and hopelessness.

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

Caldan sensed someone outside the door almost immediately. His skin tingled with the hum of the
crafting
s and
trinket
s they wore, and his hair stood on end. A sorcerer, surely a rogue. His escape looked less and less likely with every passing hour.

He’d been left to himself for some time. The four vials of blood the physiker had taken had left him lightheaded, but he was aware enough to realize they wanted him alive. To milk like a cow.

His mouth was dry, and he had a powerful thirst. How much time had passed, he couldn’t be sure, but shadows had begun to creep across the rooftops outside in a sign sunset was approaching. His skin around the puncture had begun to itch.

He tensed his muscles as he heard the bar clunk on the floor and a key enter the lock. The door swung open, and Caldan stared at Joachim in astonishment. He was dressed as usual in black trousers and shirt with silver buttons. Except, this time, he looked pained.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Joachim said, voice filled with regret. In one hand he held another jug.

Feigned or not, Caldan didn’t care. Another drip brought him out of his shock, and he bared his teeth, snarling. “Is this all I am to the emperor? Someone to be used and then discarded?”

Joachim smiled. “Well, yes, of course. He’s the emperor. But he knows nothing about this. If one of you disappears every few years, no one will be the wiser. Even better if they never knew in the first place, which was why finding you was so special. Far less risk of being caught.”

Caldan strained against his bonds again, aching to be free so he could wrap his hands around Joachim’s throat. For a few moments, it was all he could think of, all he wanted. Eventually, he subsided, ashamed of his murderous thoughts.

“That’s better,” said Joachim. “Once you accept your fate, everything is easier.”

“That’s what the physiker said.”

“A wise man.”

“For a murderer.”

Joachim shrugged. “He just wants to help the sick, the diseased. Though, he’s become quite rich doing it.”

“So, you kill us for the ducats.”

Joachim barked a laughed. “Oh, no. Not just the ducats. Do you have any idea how many
trinkets
I’ve been able to gather over the years? They’re not cheap, let me tell you. They cost, Caldan. A great deal.”

Killing innocent people for ducats and for power, for that was what
trinket
s were to Joachim. “Why kill Master Annelie? She didn’t deserve to die, and neither did the other Protectors.”

“We’ll have to disagree. Annelie was sniffing around. It turns out she’s been onto us for quite some time. Of course she didn’t know I was involved. That’s why they were taking you to a safe place. As if any place would be safe from us.”

Us, thought Caldan. Obviously, the warlock had a network of people he could trust, and he probably paid them well. It stood to reason. And how his men had been able to defeat the Protectors became obvious. Joachim had used his sorcery, and most likely made the crafted arrows in order to kill them. The arrows were probably designed to drain energy from the shields. If a sorcerer couldn’t replenish it fast enough from his well, they’d be left defenseless.

Caldan shook his head. Blood loss and dehydration left his thoughts to wander. He had to concentrate, if he had any chance of leaving the room alive.

“I’m afraid you’re different to the other Touched we usually capture,” Joachim said. “A sorcerer. So rare… Prized by the emperor and his councilors. It seems such a waste, but now that we’ve started this process, there’s no going back. You’re too dangerous to drain in the usual way, otherwise we’d keep you for weeks, months even. But it’s too risky. Someone might make a mistake, and you’d be able to escape. I’m sorry, I truly am, but you’re not long for this world.”

He didn’t sound sorry to Caldan, more annoyed he wouldn’t be able to keep him here and drain him like a waterskin. Fate was fickle, and when he left the monastery, Caldan had never thought he’d end up strapped to a table being drained of blood, his death only a short time away.

He licked his parched lips. His head felt heavy. “Perhaps…” he managed, surprised at the crack in his voice. “Perhaps I can be of more use to you.”

Joachim raised his eyebrows. “It’s too late for that. Once, in the beginning, when I first cast eyes on you, I thought it could be possible. But now… I know you’re a liar.”

Caldan blinked, thoughts muddled. He didn’t feel guilty about lying to Joachim, but he wished he’d been more honest with Annelie. Now though, it didn’t matter.

“You had a number of interesting
crafting
s on you. But that wasn’t the only thing, was it?” Joachim leaned close to his face, and Caldan could feel the warmth of his breath. “Your
trinket
ring I’ll be able to sell, though no one will be able to use it. I can’t risk handing it back to the emperor, or there will be questions. And I like to avoid questions. But you also had the bone ring, didn’t you? The one I specifically asked about and you denied.”

Eyes closed in defeat, Caldan nodded. There was no point continuing his lie. Joachim had everything he valued and was about to take the most precious thing of all: his life.

The warlock reached behind the table and poured water from a flagon into Caldan’s mouth.

Caldan gulped at the liquid but all too soon it stopped. His tongue roamed greedily over his lips.

“I’m going to leave you here for a while,” continued Joachim, replacing the flagon. “And I want you to think hard about whether you want to tell me the truth or not. The truth might extend your life for a time; lies might cut it short. Think about the bone ring. What do you know of it? Why would the emperor place such a high importance on finding it? Where did it come from? Answers to some of these questions you will know, and some you may not. But I need all the information I can get from you. I’m sure you’ll see reason. Time can be so precious sometimes.”

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