A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (Volume 1) Paperback

by Mitchell Hogan

  Schalk motioned to the attendant and announced he would use all five of his extra moves at once. Earlier, his opponent had used three of his own.

  Positions of his pieces were reversed, and some changed tiers on the board. Schalk used his moves to disrupt Powell’s forces and consolidate his own positions.

  Caldan held his breath. This was the crucial point in Schalk’s borrowed strategy. The aim was to make your opponent panic and make rash decisions, leading to dubious moves. If they did, you had a chance. If they didn’t, then they still had the advantage after recovering and uniting their forces.

  Powell leant forward in his seat, gaze shifting from the board to Schalk and back again. Caldan saw the moment panic set in. Powell licked his lips and motioned to use his last two extra moves. His forces were currently too scattered to take advantage; they would be wasted. He drew some of his pieces in to consolidate against an attack. A critical mistake.

  From their vantage point, Caldan saw Schalk’s shoulders relax in relief. From there, the game progressed steadily in Schalk’s favor. His forces mopped up the territory left vacant and gained in power. With a few hard fought skirmishes here and there, he captured or turned Powell’s isolated pieces.

  The game was won in short order.

  Powell yielded when it was obvious to all he had lost. Schalk had come back from a seemingly impossible situation to victory.

  Schalk’s friends and acquaintances crowded around him, congratulating him on a fine game. Powell stood and stared at the board, then with a short bow to Schalk left the table for the bar.

  With barely concealed ill grace, the young nobleman who took Izak’s wager handed him a handful of silver coins and two to the attendant. Izak thanked him profusely. Much more than was polite, rubbing the loss in.

  “Heh! That’ll shut him up for a while,” said Izak with a pleased grin on his face. He threw back his drink and chewed on the cherry, spitting the stone into the glass. “An interesting start to the night, my new friend.” He handed Caldan three silver ducats, thought for a moment then handed him another. “With my thanks,” he said, brushing off Caldan’s protest. “After all, without meeting you, I would be down a few silvers rather than up so many. A fortuitous and prosperous meeting for us both.”

  “Thank you. Still, I wasn’t sure Lord Schalk had that plan in mind.”

  “Well, he did, and we both took advantage of your insight. Come.” He clapped Caldan on the shoulder. “Let’s refresh our drinks and watch another game.”

  They pushed through the crowd to the bar, and Izak hailed a waitress. “Another for myself, and get my new friend here whatever he likes as well.”

  Caldan hesitated. He needed a clear head, but after the stress of that last game he felt like a drink. “Um…”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Izak.

  “I’ll probably be playing later, once I get a feel for the place, so something weak, if they have it?” He eyed the bottles dubiously.

  “A glass of the pear cider, then.” Izak motioned to the waitress. “It doesn’t have much of a kick, and you can drink it all night. Fruit, you see. It’s good for you.” He winked at Caldan.

  Two glasses plonked onto the bar, and Izak handed the waitress some copper ducats with a broad grin, which she returned.

  “I should find out more about her,” Izak murmured softly, sipping at his drink.

  Caldan thought he’d misheard him. “Pardon?” he said, leaning closer to hear him over the din.

  “Nothing. I’m feeling the effects of my drinks already. Pardon me.”

  Caldan nodded. “Certainly.” He craned his neck to see around the figures of a couple who blocked their view of a game in progress. It was a contest between two competent amateurs with a lot of suggestions from the surrounding crowd, something he hadn’t seen happening in the harder games.

  He sipped his pear cider, finding it pleasantly tart and not at all strong. “I’m going to walk around, see if there are any interesting games going on.”

  “Good idea,” replied Izak, glancing in the direction of the waitress who had served them drinks. “I’ll join you.” He drew out a perfumed handkerchief and wiped his face.

  Caldan had to excuse himself a few times as he negotiated his way through groups of people chatting and drinking around Dominion boards, Izak in tow. He disregarded three disorganized games before his eyes alighted on a board set up to begin a game, with a slender, severe-looking lady sitting in one of the playing chairs.

  She was dressed in plain dark pants and a shirt closed with mother-of-pearl buttons, hair tied back in an intricate tight braid. She lounged back on her chair, fingering an earring with one hand while holding a glass of wine in the other, pointedly ignoring a number of men standing around as if they expected a game to start anytime soon, despite the lack of an opponent.

  She gazed at the board with a disinterested expression, wrinkled her nose then sipped her wine, grimacing at the taste.

  “I wouldn’t bother with her,” commented Izak. “She hasn’t lost a game for quite some time. The Lady Felicienne is quite adept at Dominion, as you would expect from someone in her position.”

  “And what position would that be?”

  Izak stroked his goatee. “Her official title is Third Adjudicator, which in itself is fairly innocuous, a title which shows her place in the hierarchy. Her role is to run a department that deals in information.”

  Caldan thought quietly for a moment. This was interesting information and quite possibly something he could turn to his advantage. “So… spying?”

  “Oh no, nothing as crass as that. I dare say if we knew who headed up the emperor’s spies we wouldn’t be around long.” Izak chuckled. “No, her department keeps its eyes and ears open, keeps its fingers on the pulse of what is happening around the empire, and with the guilds and other organizations.”

  Disappointed, Caldan frowned. “So, if, for example, I wanted to trace the origins of a trinket and where it was now, she could help?”

  Izak raised his eyebrows. “Oh, she could do that, and more. The empire tracks all trinkets and who owns them, so I’ve heard. If you wanted information that valuable, she would be one you could go to. Though I doubt you’d like the price she would ask, even if you could get her to agree to your request.”

  “Expensive?”

  “No, she has all the ducats she could need. She would ask for favors or keep you in her debt until you were of use.” Izak shuddered. “Not to my liking.”

  Caldan chewed a thumbnail, ignoring Izak’s questioning look. Did he dare approach this woman? He had hardly any ducats to offer, but if what Izak said were true, she wouldn’t be after coin. An opportunity like this was unlikely to happen again, and what could she ask of him anyway?

  “Well,” said Izak. “I need another drink.” He looked around the room. “Ah, there she is… Do you mind if I…” His voice trailed off, and he waved in the direction of the bar.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’ll join you in a bit.” Izak drew out a perfumed handkerchief and wiped his face, then with a wave disappeared into the crowd.

  Turning back to the Dominion table, Caldan approached. Chances like these were few and far between. Best he took this one in both hands, if he could.

  “Excuse me,” he began. Lady Felicienne arched one eyebrow at him but didn’t speak. This close, Caldan could see small pocked scars on her cheeks. “I see you’re in need of an opponent, and I’d be glad to give you a match. If you would like… I mean… if that’s what you’re here for.”

  A number of the people around the table stopped their conversation to listen. Lady Felicienne toyed with an earring while she appraised him. Caldan had the feeling she didn’t miss much as her gaze took in his clothes and the stubble on his head, lingering on the scar on his cheek. He noticed her eyes flick over his shoulder in the direction Izak had headed then back to him.

  “Why not?” she agreed in an amused tone. She sat up and waved at the empty chair across f
rom her. “Please, be seated. What are you wagering?”

  Caldan hesitated then reached into his coin pouch. Best to be cautious in the beginning and not risk too much. He withdrew two silver ducats and placed them on the table.

  “Two silvers… and I need information,” he said as firmly as he could manage, heart pounding.

  Behind him, someone coughed, and he heard a snicker. Lady Felicienne looked at the coins, blinked, then looked at him.

  “I don’t know if I can cover such an amount,” she replied, deadpan.

  He couldn’t be certain, but Caldan thought he detected a faint smirk. He swallowed, mouth dry.

  “Information on what?” she said, hand creeping up to fiddle with her earring again.

  “I’d rather not say here.” Caldan gestured to the crowded room.

  “Then how am I to judge whether what else you are offering is sufficient to cover it?”

  “I haven’t offered anything yet.”

  “Yes, that’s a problem. So you are betting unspecified services against unspecified information?”

  “Er… yes. I don’t know what I could offer that you would be interested in. I guess you’d be a better judge of that.”

  Felicienne looked him up and down and smiled. “Indeed.” She sat back into her chair and tapped a cheek with a finger, eyes never leaving Caldan’s.

  “Tell you what,” she said eventually. “I’ll take up your challenge. These dullards loitering around waiting for someone better than them to take me on are boring me to tears.”

  Caldan glanced at the people standing about. A few glared at the lady, but some had smirks of their own as they politely ignored her rudeness.

  “Well… thank you. I’ll sit down.”

  “Please do. It might make playing hard otherwise.” She leaned forward, placing two silver ducats directly on top of Caldan’s. “I don’t believe anyone has thanked me before for accepting a challenge.”

  Caldan could feel her eyes on him as he sat, scraping his chair on the floor when he moved it closer to the board. A woman tittered in the background.

  Felicienne put a hand in the air and was soon approached by one of the spare attendants bearing two scraps of paper and writing implements. They each took a piece and scrawled their first seven opening moves, then handed it back.

  The man studied both before placing each face up on the top tier for them both to see. Lady Felicienne smiled.

  The first phase of the game had begun.

  Lady Felicienne lounged in her padded chair, at ease with her progression in the game, a glass of bright green liquid in one hand. She barely glanced at the board, her main focus of attention the crowd gathered around their table — other players, patrons, even a couple of the serving staff on a short break from their duties.

  Caldan knew she didn’t have to stare at the board as the pieces, positions and state of play would be foremost in her mind, as they were in his. He gathered her nonchalant pose was for the benefit of her reputation.

  In the hour their game had progressed, he’d learnt a little about her from whispers reaching his ears, spoken in hushed and often awed tones by people in the crowd.

  Lady Felicienne Shyrise, Third Adjudicator to the emperor himself. As one woman he overheard put it, shy by name but not by nature. She’d traveled from the capital to attend every Autumn Festival for the last four years to compete in the Dominion tournament. Caldan hadn’t heard anything else of value, unless what she liked to drink or eat was considered valuable information here.

  He drew his attention back to the board. Something wasn’t quite right with Lady Felicienne’s last three moves, but he couldn’t put his finger on what bothered him. Her attempted feint then attack did nothing to improve her position, though the projected power of her pieces moved slightly to another direction. He scratched his head and shifted in his chair.

  On his right, Izak shouldered his way through the crowd towards him, face flushed and glowing with a sheen of sweat. Half of his shirt was untucked from his pants. Stopping to apologize briefly to a couple he had barged between, he approached Caldan with a broad grin. He leaned close and whispered. “You could have found someone easier for your first game here, no?”

  Caldan half-smiled apologetically and spread his hands. “The table was free, and she was waiting for an opponent.”

  “That might have told you something, if you’d thought about it.” Izak wiped his brow with his kerchief. “Still, an interesting game, from what I can see.”

  “Are you all right? You’re a bit flustered.” What’s he been up to?

  Izak grinned and winked. “Quite all right, thank you. I had a… chat… with the waitress. Perhaps a refreshing drink is called for.” He straightened up and signaled to a hovering waiter. Izak handed him a few coins and some instructions then leant back down to Caldan.

  “It might not be any of my business, but have you placed a wager on the game?”

  “Yes, two silvers.” Caldan saw Izak’s eyes widen.

  Izak coughed into his hand. “Two silvers. She must have been bored.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing. You realize you’ll lose? I mean, she is one of the best players in the empire.”

  “Is she?” Caldan frowned. Her play had been excellent, but he had seen better. And played better himself. “I wouldn’t say she has the upper hand.”

  Izak gestured at the board. “Of course she has. Look at the game. Are you blind?” Izak shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was harsh. Can you not see she is in a winning position?”

  “It just looks like it. She is almost where I want her.”

  “Forgive me if I sound skeptical.”

  A waiter appeared at his elbow bearing a wooden tray. Izak passed Caldan another glass of the pear cider and availed himself of his own drink, something that looked like mud with a spoon in it.

  “Ah! Just the thing to replenish the reserves,” Izak exclaimed.

  Caldan watched as Izak swallowed a few spoonfuls of the thick brown substance. A comment from behind Izak made him turn with a laugh and hold the glass and spoon in the air. A few ribald cheers followed his display.

  Caldan shook his head in confusion and returned to the game. He had much to learn about this place.

  Lady Felicienne stared at him. Her eyes moved from the Dominion board to Caldan and back again. She placed her drink on a side table and leaned forward to study the game, hands clasped in front of her, eyes narrowed with concentration. She looked… annoyed.

  She has finally sensed something isn’t right, Caldan thought. He hoped she didn’t grasp his plan until too late.

  Someone jostled Caldan’s right shoulder and his drink spilled. Izak.

  “Oh bloody… I mean… excuse me, my apologies.” He had found a chair somewhere and managed to drag it through the crowd and place it next to Caldan’s. He sat himself down with an audible sigh of relief, clutching his now empty glass with smears of the mud-like substance inside. A strong smell of herbs and spices reached Caldan, emanating from the glass.

  “Medicinal?” Caldan enquired.

  “Oh… yes. Good for what ails you, replenishing your strength, that sort of thing.”

  Caldan studied the board again but kept an eye on Lady Felicienne. Knowing your opponent and figuring out what they had inferred about your play was key.

  “You think you have the upper hand?”

  Caldan sighed softly. Izak was distracting him. He meant well, but it wasn’t going to help his game.

  “It depends on the next few moves, on whether she has worked anything out and can reorganize her defense.”

  “If I made a modest wager of my own, I won’t regret betting on you?”

  “Anything can happen, as well you know, but I think she won’t catch on in time. I wish I had wagered more now.”

  Izak stood abruptly. “Well, time for another drink. I can’t sit around here all evening distracting you.” He disappeared into the crowd.

  Caldan’s oppone
nt had played an outstanding game, and if she realized his plan in the next few moves, things wouldn’t go well for him. The pieces were in a delicate balance at the moment.

  Felicienne moved three of her pieces. He held his breath as she used two of her extra moves. She sat motionless, not breathing, staring at the board. Caldan hardly dared breathe himself. She half-stood to move one piece on the second tier, paused, then moved another.

  He let out a long slow breath. She hadn’t seen through his ruse to the heart of his plan. Her moves were logical, as she saw them, but in the end only served to destabilize her position further.

  Caldan gathered himself but before making his moves studied the board and pieces. It was when you were your most confident things were likely to go wrong. Concentrate too much on your own game and you could miss vital aspects of your opponent’s.

  A bump on his shoulder told him Izak had returned with another drink, a yellowish spirit in a bulbous glass. His face was still flushed, probably because of the alcohol he had consumed.

  “Here you go. Thank me later.” Izak handed him a piece of paper. On it was written “C. 2G, T7, LF 15-1” with a scribbled signature under a dark wax seal.

  Caldan frowned at the cryptic writing. “What’s this?”

  The attendant approached and asked to see the paper. Caldan handed it over while Izak smiled. The attendant scrutinized the paper then, satisfied they weren’t cheating, handed it back with a nod.

  Izak held another piece of paper in his other hand. “It’s your wager, and this is mine. You can give me the ducats I spent placing the bet later, after you win.”

  “My what?” Caldan screeched, turning heads in the crowd. He tugged Izak’s arm through his coat and drew him closer. “You made a wager in my name? For how much?”

  Izak squirmed in his grasp. “Easy lad, you’ve quite a grip there. I’d like to use this arm later.”

  “How much?” grated Caldan.

  “It says right there. Two gold. Have to make the most when the odds are good. If you win they’ll come down a bit.”

  Caldan sat stunned. Two gold ducats. He didn’t have two gold ducats.

  “What’s the problem? You think you’ll win,” explained Izak. “We’ll both make out like bandits. No one here seriously thinks she will lose.”