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

by Hogan, Mitchell

  “Did you hear me? Get up! You’re leaving soon. Get your stuff together.”

  Caldan’s heart thudded in his chest. Soon?

  “Oi! You deaf? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Caldan yelled. “I heard you.”

  He struggled into a wrinkled shirt. “Do I have time to get a few things? I need to buy some bits and pieces for the trip.”

  “Straight to the docks with you. Orders are orders.”

  There was much he wanted to do before he left, but he was out of time. Jemma, everyone who had helped him here. There were many people he wanted to talk to, say farewell to, thank for their friendship and everything they had done for him. He sighed and stood up, only then noticing a folded piece of parchment that must have been slipped under the door while he was asleep. He picked it up as the door opened. The guard stood there holding a lantern.

  “C’mon. Get your stuff and get going. We ain’t got much time. Ship’s leaving at dawn, so get a move on.”

  Caldan stuffed the parchment into his pants pocket and grabbed his sacks filled with what was left of his life at the monastery.

  Chapter Five

  Caldan strode down the wooden wharf and stopped before a moored ship loading on supplies and merchants’ goods for its return journey to the city of Anasoma. Swaying in the harbor’s swell, the ship looked like any other he had seen. Caldan thought most likely he would be spewing up his food for the whole voyage, with scant sympathy from the crew.

  Behind him, one of two guards, his escort, cleared his throat and took a step closer.

  Caldan turned around to take in the view from the wharf, the bay and behind him to the city and the monastery. “I know, don’t worry yourself. I just want one last look at this place.”

  He breathed deeply of the sea air, redolent with fish and tar, and from a warehouse close by with signage declaring it owned by the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern came the odor of spices and coffee. A cold early morning wind had picked up, and sea salt prickled his skin.

  Fully laden, the two-masted ship sat low in the water. Figures scuttled over the deck in the dawn light, busy preparing for departure.

  “Best be off with you,” the guard closest to him said. “We need to make sure you board and are taken into the captain’s care. All this gawking about is delaying our breakfast.”

  Caldan gritted his teeth. “How inconsiderate of me. I’d best get going, then.”

  A name was painted in large yellow letters on the stern. “Loretta,” he whispered to himself.

  His two hungry escorts following close, he walked up the plank and onto the deck. They stood there a few moments watching the activity around the ship: an older sailor sorting broken pieces of rope in one corner, while the strong smell of vinegar came from a sailor scrubbing the deck with a coarse-bristled brush.

  It wasn’t long before someone deigned to notice them. A small, deeply tanned girl, who looked around twenty, with her black hair tied in a tail that hung halfway down her back. She was dressed like all the other sailors in rough cloth, worn and stained by hard work at sea.

  “Is this the prisoner?” she asked, looking past Caldan to the guards.

  “I’m no prisoner,” he responded with heat. “Where would you get that idea?”

  “The two guards keeping an eye on you, plus the fact we’ve been paid to take someone into custody and make sure they don’t slip off before we leave. That would make you a prisoner.” She smiled at him, revealing even white teeth.

  “I…” he stuttered. “Look here, I’m not a prisoner! It was an accident. Circumstances have not been in my favor… I’m just…” He trailed off. Escorted by guards to the ship, he could see what it looked like to them.

  “Sure they haven’t.” She motioned the guards to the wharf. “You lads can go now. Leave him with me.”

  “You sure you’re all right on your own with him?”

  The girl gestured around her at the sailors of the ship. “Plenty of help to hand if I need assistance. The crew wouldn’t want anything to happen to one of their own.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll get going then and get some food into us.” With a final look at Caldan and the girl, they stomped down the plank.

  “Well, what are we going to do with you?” the girl asked herself.

  “I’ve never been on a ship before. Never had to,” he blurted.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “It was a rhetorical question. And you didn’t make sense anyway.”

  Caldan grimaced. His thoughts were skittering all over the place. “It’s been a trying couple of days for me. I’m a bit lost.”

  “I think we all know how that feels sometimes.” A shadow passed across her face, gone in an instant. “My name’s Miranda. Best we take you to see the captain. She can give you the once over and let you know how things stand on the ship for your journey. Well, a couple of days, not a journey. Unless you have never been on a ship before.” She looked at someone behind him and held up a hand. “I can take him from here. He seems harmless enough.”

  Caldan turned his head to see a brute of a sailor standing close behind him, a hefty wooden belaying pin in one callused meaty hand. By the look in his eyes and the scars on his knuckles, Caldan had no doubt the sailor knew how to use it.

  He turned back to Miranda. “Is this necessary? I’m not a criminal. Look, just show me to my cabin and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Sure you will,” she said doubtfully. “We need to show you around first, so you know where things are, for eating, the crapper, stuff like that.”

  Caldan was taken aback. No girl he had been around before would have said such a thing, or referred to any bodily function in conversation.

  “And to see the captain, of course. She likes to have a chat with all the passengers.”

  “Let’s go.” He just wanted to get this over with. A clean cut is the best. He began to walk towards the door that led inside the ship.

  Miranda stopped him before he had taken a few steps, her eyes hard. “We go where and when I say, not when you say. Ships can be a dangerous place for the inexperienced, and I won’t have you injured when you are in my care. Many a lubber has hurt themselves doing something stupid.”

  She gestured for him to follow and sauntered towards a smaller door on the other side of the ship.

  Caldan followed her, ducking under the low doorway. Inside, warm air smelling of tar and sweat washed over him.

  “Hope your delicate nostrils aren’t offended,” Miranda commented as she continued down some stairs. She showed him around the insides of the ship, marking areas where he was not allowed to go unless escorted — crew areas, the hold, and galley — and where he was allowed to — the common area, the ‘crappers’, and his own tiny bunk.

  Barely wide enough for him to squeeze into, it was sectioned off from the rest of the room with a thin curtain. Seven other bunks were in the same room, and there wasn’t much in the way of privacy.

  “Throw your stuff in here,” she said, gesturing to his bunk. “Can’t get better than this for you, with what we we’re paid.” She winked at him.

  Caldan smiled grimly. “I can’t complain. It’s not like I have a choice.” He placed his sacks on the bunk and closed the curtain.

  She looked at him, tilting her head to the side. “All right then, let’s see the captain. Follow me.”

  She led him down a corridor and around a corner, ending at a closed door, which had chips and deep gouges in it. The girl noticed him looking at them. “They were here when the captain purchased her. She thinks the ship may have been taken by pirates at one time.” She shrugged. “But who knows?”

  She banged hard on the door with a fist, and, without waiting for an answer, opened the door and walked into the captain’s quarters, Caldan in her wake.

  The captain sat at ease on a chair behind a desk strewn with maps held down with stone paperweights, a couple of books and some brass nautical instruments Caldan didn’t recognize. Her skin was tanned but li
ghter than the girl’s, and her shoulders were broader. Lines around her eyes and mouth proclaimed her older, probably around forty. Her booted feet were propped up on the desk, and she held a mug with steam pluming from it. A strong smell of coffee permeated the room.

  Miranda opened her mouth to speak, but before she could the captain waved her to silence. She took a sip of coffee and grimaced at the taste. “Cook forgot the honey again. Bastard,” she said to herself. She brought the mug to her lips and blew steam off the top.

  Behind her, dawn light streamed in through open windows. A cool breeze aired the cabin, which was less odorous than the rest of the ship.

  The captain reached over and placed her mug carefully on the desk, folded her arms across her chest and looked directly at Caldan.

  “I’m Captain Charlotte,” she began. “Firstly, this is my ship. I’ve been owner of the Loretta for ten years, and I’m the law here. You go where and when I say, not when you say.”

  Caldan noted the words were almost exactly the same as the girl had said to him earlier. She must have borrowed it from the captain’s speech to all passengers. He glanced behind him and Miranda looked at the floor, embarrassed, a slight flush rising to her cheeks.

  “Still, you look harmless enough. Growing out of your clothes are you? Don’t they take care of that at the monastery?”

  He heard Miranda snigger behind him then cover it with a cough. The captain frowned at her. “Enough of that, Miranda. Some manners, if you please.”

  “My apologies, Captain,” Miranda replied meekly.

  Captain Charlotte grunted at her. “Don’t think that act fools me. You’re as bad as the rest of the crew sometimes.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Charlotte turned cold eyes on Caldan. “Anyway, don’t make any trouble with the crew, because you know who I’ll support. We’ve been paid to take you to Anasoma, and I plan to make this trip as uneventful as I want every trip to be. Make trouble and you’ll go over the side for the sharks. Am I clear?”

  Caldan looked her in the eye and nodded. He was not pleased with the way he had been dismissed and sent away from the monastery, but he wasn’t going to do anything rash and make trouble. There was time ahead to take a look at his situation.

  “Good. Miranda, get him settled in his bunk. We leave within the hour, and we both have work to do.” She waved them away and settled back in her chair, reaching for her mug.

  Miranda grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door, closing it behind her. “That went well,” she remarked. “She must have taken a liking to you.”

  “It went well? I don’t think it did. Is she always that blunt?”

  “Always… well, except when she has had a bit to drink.” She hesitated. “But anyways, shouldn’t be talking about her to you. Let’s get you back to your bunk for the time being. When we set sail you can come up on the deck. Crew won’t like you around when we depart, you might get underfoot.” She gave him a sidelong smile. “And maybe puking your guts up…”

  Caldan grimaced at her as they continued on to his bunk area, where she left him, stating she had work to do before, during and after they set sail. He drew the curtain open and lay down, having to shuffle his sacks around to find a comfortable spot.

  He remembered the folded piece of parchment he had found on the floor and stuffed into a pocket in a rush. It felt rough in his hands, and a daub of candle wax held it closed, but no seal had been embedded into it. Breaking it open, he unfolded the parchment, recognizing Jemma’s flowing script.

  Dear Caldan,

  No one is allowed to see you, so I bribed the guard to deliver this letter, and I hope it reaches you. I know you would never hurt Marlon on purpose, and although his wounds are serious and distress me deeply, I do not blame you.

  It was by chance we found out they were sending you away without an opportunity to say goodbye, and I needed you to know I didn’t think the worst of you for what happened. The physikers tell me Marlon will recover, but it will take time. He will need constant care, which I will have to provide. I think I will have to stop attending lessons, which pains me greatly, but I am unable to do anything regarding the situation. Family must come first. My parents would want me to look after Marlon to the exclusion of all else.

  They say you will not be allowed back on the island, and for that I am sorry. I know this will hit you hard, harder than anyone else who studies here. This place has been your life, and it is hard to leave things that are precious to us, but life throws up challenges indiscriminately, and it is for us to overcome them.

  …he could see in her writing how much she was hurting. The lessons and life at the monastery, which allowed her freedom, had been taken away. And it was his fault…

  But I am rambling, and I am sure you have your own troubles to occupy your mind. I will miss your friendship and your warmth.

  With fond memories, Jemma

  Caldan folded the parchment with slow reverent movements and slipped it back into his pocket. He stared at the flimsy curtain separating him from the room, wondering whether Jemma would ever forgive him for ruining her freedom, despite what she had written.

  The swaying back and forth of the ship relaxed him, though only a small swell in the harbor. He was sure the two day trip would be pleasant, if his stomach remained settled.

  The reality of his situation kept intruding on his thoughts, and he wondered how much he could stand before his mind couldn’t handle it anymore. The life he knew was gone as surely and as quickly as smoke blown away in the wind.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them hard with his palms. Unfair, was the word that came to his mind. But… the truth was he had been more fortunate than many others. More than he had any right to expect. Perhaps this new part of his life would change him, the experience give him a greater understanding of the world, a new perspective.

  He took a few deep breaths of the musty ship air and found he couldn’t lie still. Swinging out of the bunk, he headed up to see the ship sail in the dawn.

  He emerged on the deck to see crew members in a flurry of activity. Finding a corner out of everyone’s way, he leaned against the gunwale. The cool, salty, fresh sea breeze ruffled his hair, giving relief after the fusty air below.

  Captain Charlotte and Miranda stood by the wheel. Both were quiet and peered out into the harbor.

  “We must profit by this wind,” he heard the captain say. “Is all in readiness?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Miranda replied.

  “Then be so good as to tell me why Rigger Darcy is swaying back and forth as if three sheets to the wind.”

  “Bloody ancestors,” cursed Miranda. “Rigger Darcy, you drunken bastard,” she yelled, red-faced, surprising Caldan with her swearing. “Get your sorry ass back below decks right now! Jonas, get up there and replace him.”

  “Right you are, ma’am,” confirmed another sailor as he passed a swaying Darcy on his way to the mast.

  Miranda looked like she was about to burst, lips pursed tightly and nostrils flaring.

  “Sorry, Captain. I should have checked on Darcy. We know what he is like with a bit of shore leave.”

  “Yes, you should have. Never mind. What’s done is done. Pay better attention next time.”

  Miranda gave a quick embarrassed nod.

  “I will ask again. Is all in readiness?”

  Miranda paused before replying, her gaze taking in the deck, the masts, sails and crew members, and stopping on Caldan for a second before moving on. Caldan held his breath, sure she was going to send him below while they left, but to his surprise she didn’t.

  “Yes, ma’am. All is ready.”

  “Good, then we will make sail.” Captain Charlotte raised her voice to carry across the ship. “Make sail. All hands to make sail.”

  There was a great deal of shouting and stomping of feet from the crew members as they hurried to their places.

  “Silence, please,” yelled the captain.

&nbs
p; All of the crew of the Loretta stood still, poised in dead silence. The ship lay in the harbor, gently rocking to and fro in the morning swell, waves lapping at the side.

  Charlotte stood still as well, judging the wind. She paused for a few moments.

  “Away aloft,” she cried. Her call was repeated up and down the ship, and immediately the shrouds were covered in men and women, racing upwards as nimble and at home as monkeys in trees.

  As Charlotte unleashed a slew of orders, the crew on the yards untied the lines furling the sails, and sheets of canvas dropped with a whoosh. Ropes were sheeted home and secured.

  The Loretta heeled over slightly as a push from the wind filled her sails. Another push, then she inched forward until the motion became a steady drive. She was under way, gathering speed gradually as she moved away from the docks. Her speed increased, the noise of her slicing through the water gaining in strength as she left her berth behind.

  Caldan looked back at the docks, his gaze traveling up into the city and finally coming to rest on the monastery. He turned his head to the open sea breeze to hide the expression on his face, his eyes burning as he remembered the hurt he had caused so many people. Salty spray from the ship’s passage through the water soaked his face, erasing any sign of the tears that fell.

  He lost track of time as he stood at the gunwale staring out at the water, pointedly not looking back at the island dwindling into the distance. Any thoughts, he pushed aside in an effort to ease the pain he felt.

  The sun had risen into a cloudless sky and beat down upon the deck. His eyes hurt from the glare off the water. To give his eyes a rest and to cool down, he headed back to his bunk, passing crew members on the way, who ignored him, busy with their own tasks.

  Beyond finding cheap accommodation and work, he had no thoughts on what he would do. He was sure his situation wouldn’t become dire since he had gained a lot of skills and knowledge at the monastery, but better to be safe and find some paid work early than leave it too late.