Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) by Mitchell Hogan Read Free Book Online Page A

dividing factor. Chalayan was clearly in awe of Mazoet. While Aidan regarded Mazoet with an element of wariness, if not outright distrust.
    Vasile snorted into his water and coughed, choking as some went down the wrong way.
    Around him in the cabin, the four men laughed. They sat in chairs around a table.
    “Water too strong for you?” asked Chalayan with a smirk.
    Anshul cel Rau belched and poured himself a refill from a jug, remaining silent, while Aidan smiled. Though they had been stiff and formal when Vasile had appeared, trailed by Mazoet, all four had been drinking for hours, and their carefree manner had increased, along with their banter, and postures relaxed the longer the night went on.
    That Mazoet was here meant he was watching on behalf of Gazija. Vasile had figured out that much. The old man had his people under tight control, and they revered him. They all owed the man—or whatever he was—their lives. Gazija’s frail exterior belied his true power over those that reported to him. The vague tidbits of information Quiss had seen fit to dole out to Vasile had only made him curious. Unclear assertions that they wanted to ‘correct the ills done’ and to ‘make amends’ for a supposed other faction did little to assuage Vasile’s disquiet.
    Mazoet crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair, which creaked alarmingly due to his bulk. “So, Vasile,” he said loudly and with a jolliness that rang false to Vasile’s ears. “How can we trust a man that doesn’t drink?”
    Vasile smiled weakly. Mazoet should be helping him, shouldn’t he? Not making things harder. “I’ve had more than my fair share of drink, and vowed I’d never touch the stuff again. I don’t think that makes me untrustworthy; if anything, it shows a strength most men don’t find in themselves.”
    “Strength?” asked Mazoet sceptically. “Or weakness?”
    Vasile scowled. “More strength than you’re likely capable of.”
    “You’ve no idea what I’m capable of.”
    “I’m sure you could demolish six roast chickens and a barrel of ale.”
    Anshul and Chalayan laughed.
    “Here,” interrupted Aidan. “Enough of that. A man’s virtues lie outside his appearance.”
    “Or inside,” added Chalayan.
    Anshul chuckled. “Mazoet must be virtuous, then.”
    “I would have thought that, as someone who saved your lives, ” said Mazoet with quiet dignity, “I’d be accorded more courtesy.”
    “Do you think we’d drink with anyone we didn’t trust?” asked Aidan. “It’s only those who’re one of us we can joke with, and drink with.”
    Mazoet raised his mug. “To trust, then.”
    The others raised their mugs in a toast, and Vasile followed suit with his water. After drinking, he squirmed in his seat.
    Vasile gritted his teeth. “Who are you, anyway?” he demanded of Aidan. “Why should we trust you?”
    Aidan chuckled softly, while Chalayan glared at Vasile with ill-concealed contempt. Cel Rau merely took another swig of his drink.
    “We have a commission from the emperor himself,” Aidan said. “To seek out evil and do our best to destroy it when we find it. He gave Cait—us, a writ. We’re beholden only to him.” Aidan leaned forward, holding Vasile’s gaze with his intensity. “And the things we’ve seen would likely make you spew.”
    Chalayan sneered at Vasile, nodding.
    “Foul sorcery,” continued Aidan, “that would make you question your faith in the good of humanity. And jukari, what they and the other leavings from the Shattering get up to… you better hope you never see. Malevolence and corruption normal soldiers would shy away from. We’re part of the empire’s defense.”
    Vasile sensed the truth in Aidan’s words, and swallowed. Aidan might believe what he was saying, but that didn’t mean it was the truth. It sounded like they were a roving band of mercenaries beholden to no one, with a writ from the emperor condoning whatever they did. No magistrate like him traveled with them,