Ghost in the Hunt (12 page)

No, not an emerald. 

A bloodcrystal.

Caina felt the necromantic sorcery radiating from the thing. Each one of the Adamant Guards gave off a sorcerous aura, but the aura of multiple spells surrounded the black-coated man. Potent necromantic spells bound his dagger, several wards surrounded him, and Caina felt more spells upon his coat, likely imbuing it with the strength of steel plate armor and a resistance to arcane attack. Caina had sensed sorcerers with stronger arcane auras.

But not very many. 

“Ah,” said Erghulan, his amused smile widening. “Our other guest of honor. My lord Martin, have you met Lord Cassander Nilas of the Umbarian Order?”

Cassander smiled and walked closer, his hands still tucked in the small of his back, his Adamant Guards following him. The Adamant Guards had dead, lifeless expressions, as if all the emotion had been drained from them. Cassander’s blue eyes roved back and forth, cold and hard. 

“I fear not,” said Martin. “I only know of the rebel by reputation.” 

Cassander’s smile never wavered. “And I know of you by reputation, Martin of House Dorius. It seems you have decided to throw your lot in with the doddering old Emperor and the archaic fools of the Imperial Curia, rather than follow my Order to the reform of the Empire.” His voice was cold and deep and carried a mocking edge.

“So many words,” said Martin, “to justify treason. It must grow exhausting.” 

“Now, now,” said Erghulan. “There is no need for hostilities. This is, after all, the realm of the Padishah, not the Empire of the Emperor or the dominion of the Umbarian Order. I expect you will conduct yourselves with all dignity, my lords.”

“That will not prove a challenge,” said Cassander. “For me, anyway.”

He spread his hands. On his right hand he wore a gauntlet of black steel, a gauntlet that radiated the arcane aura of pyromancy, of sorcery that burned and devoured. A single red crystal rested on the back of the gauntlet, seeming to throb and pulse with its own inner light. A crimson bloodcrystal? Caina had seen blue, black, and green bloodcrystals, but never a red one. Perhaps it had something to do with how the Umbarians wielded pyromantic sorcery without descending into gibbering insanity. 

“Nor for me,” said Martin. “A representative of the legitimate government of the Empire can always maintain his dignity before a rebel.”

“This way, my lords,” said Erghulan, gesturing towards the rows of tables at the other end of the Court of the Fountain. “We shall take our place at the high table, and the slaves will bring out the meal.” 

The Grand Wazir started forward, his Immortals flanking him, and Martin and Cassander walked forward as well, Claudia upon Martin’s arm, both men eyeing each other. Caina followed after them, thinking of the ghostsilver dagger at her belt. Cassander’s wards and enspelled coat would turn aside any weapons of steel, but they would be useless against a ghostsilver weapon. Still, Caina did not think the Umbarian magus would attempt any violence within the Golden Palace.

She hoped. 

“I confess, my lord Martin,” said Cassander, “that you surprise me.” 

“Is that so?” said Martin. 

“I would not have marked you as a hidebound traditionalist,” said Cassander. “Especially since Lord Corbould Maraeus is the Emperor’s strongest supporter, and brittle old Corbould has never forgiven you for making his son look bad during the last war. You ought to have sided with us. The Order has need of good men, and you can rise high in our service.” 

“Whether or not Lord Corbould hates me,” said Martin, “has no bearing on whether or not the Emperor is the lawful ruler of the Empire. The Umbarian Order is guilty of rebellion and treason. A fact, my lord Wazir, I feel obliged to note to you. Given the Umbarian Order’s stated goal of overthrowing one legitimate monarch, I think it wise to warn your Padishah of the danger.” Cassander let out a mocking little laugh, but Martin kept talking. “If the Umbarians overthrow one lawful monarch, why not two?”

“That is a good point, my lord Cassander,” said Erghulan. “Tell me. Have I invited a serpent into my Padishah’s home? Will you seek to overthrow the Padishah and put Istarinmul under the rule of your Order, just as the magus-emperors ruled Istarinmul through puppet Padishahs in the days of the Fourth Empire?”

“Certainly not, Grand Wazir,” said Cassander, spreading his hands again. The gauntlet of black steel gleamed, the red bloodcrystal flickering. “We seek merely to bring order and reform to the Empire.” Claudia gave a contemptuous snort, and Cassander smiled at her. “The day of the golden dead proved that it is necessary for the Order to rule the Empire. Having the Imperial Curia elect an Emperor has proven an inefficient and cumbersome method of government. The Imperial Magisterium is worse than useless.” His bright blue eyes turned to Claudia. “Decius Aberon is a fat, complacent fool.”

“I cannot argue with that,” said Claudia. 

Cassander laughed. “I am not terribly interested in the self-important opinions of yet another of Decius Aberon’s pompous bastards. Really, Martin. You could have found a far worthier wife.”

Claudia bristled, but Martin lifted his hand. “You would do well not to insult my wife, magus.”

“Or what?” said Cassander. “What shall you do about it, my lord Martin? Challenge me to a duel? I should like to witness that.” 

“I would imagine,” said Martin, “that our host would take it ill if blood were shed within the grounds of the Padishah’s palace.”

“Indeed I would, Cassander,” rumbled Erghulan. “Do try to control yourself. I thought maintaining decorum would be easy for a magus of the Order.”

Cassander’s smile never wavered, but for a moment Caina glimpsed the annoyance in his blue eyes. “Of course. Do forgive me, Grand Wazir. In my enthusiasm about the opportunities before you, I have gotten carried away.”

They stopped before the high table. The dancers, hundreds of them, continued their rhythmic motions against the base of the Court’s snow-white walls. Slaves hurried to and fro, lighting bonfires as the sun dipped below the western horizon. The flames threw the dancers’ shadows against the white wall, stark and enormous. Caina had to admit that the effect was impressive. 

“And what opportunities are those, Lord Cassander?” said Erghulan, turning back to the magus.

“Why, return of the Argamaz Desert, for one,” said Cassander. “The Order would be pleased to return it to the rightful control of the Padishah, once Malarae is taken and the Emperor’s tottering regime swept away. The Provosts of my Order…”

“Provosts, my lord?” said Caina, raising her eyebrows.

For the first time Cassander regarded her. “And you are…”

“Kyrazid Tomurzu, my lord,” said Caina with a deep bow. “A factor for some prominent nobles of Imperial Cyrica.”

“I see,” said Cassander. “Tell your masters to side with the Order. Unlike the Emperor and the Imperial Curia, we recognize that the natural order of mankind is of master and slave, and we shall not pass foolish laws against slavery.”

“I am sure my masters shall be delighted to hear of it,” said Caina.

“In answer to your question, the Order is guided by five Provosts, all magi of great power,” said Cassander. “The High Provost oversees their work as first among equals. Yet there are more important matters to discuss.” He looked back at Erghulan. “The price of slaves has trebled in the last year.”

“Quadrupled,” said Erghulan, his smile turning into a scowl. “We have had problems with some madman disguising himself as a hero of Szaldic myth and terrorizing the Slavers’ Brotherhood.”

“The Order can resolve that problem,” said Cassander. “Our recent conquests have provided us with vast number of captives, and slavery has been reinstituted in the provinces under our control. We would be more than happy to sell you slaves at low cost, which I imagine would go a long way toward easing your labor shortage.” 

“Ah,” said Erghulan. “I imagine the price for this largess would be an alliance? All the slaves in the world will do Istarinmul no good if an army comes out of Imperial Cyrica to invade us.”

“Not at all,” said Cassander. “The Order respects both the borders and the sovereignty of Istarinmul. Simply permitting our war fleets to pass through the Starfall Straits shall be enough.” 

Caina kept her face calm. Cassander’s offer was a good one. Far more generous than she would have expected. 

Martin recognized the danger. “The Order has already failed to respect the boundaries of the Padishah’s realm. Three days ago two assassins of the Order broke into my residence and tried to murder my wife.”

“Lies,” said Cassander.

“A bold claim,” said Erghulan.

“We made sure to preserve the bodies,” said Martin with a chilly smile. “The Order has the unfortunate habit of carving its sigil onto the flesh of its servants.” He gestured at the Adamant Guards’ foreheads. “We can show you the corpses, if you like.”

Erghulan scowled at the Umbarian magus. “This is a serious charge, Cassander. I do not care if your Order and the Empire wipe each other out, but by the Living Flame you shall not do so upon Istarish soil. If you wish to murder Lord Martin’s wife, you can do so outside of the walls of Istarinmul.”

“Those assassins were not there to murder Decius Aberon’s witless bastard,” said Cassander. Martin scowled, but Cassander kept speaking. “They were there to aid you, my lord Wazir.”

“Really,” said Erghulan. “Do tell, Cassander. How does violating the Padishah’s laws aid me?”

“They were there,” said Cassander, “to find the Balarigar.” 

Caina felt a chill.

“Indeed,” said Erghulan, a sudden interest in his eyes. “So you suspect this renegade Szaldic legend is lurking in the cellar of the Lord Ambassador’s mansion?” 

“It is entirely possible,” said Cassander. “You see, my lord Grand Wazir, I know who the Balarigar is.”

Caina’s chill worsened. She was suddenly aware of the dozen Adamant Guards around Cassander, of the scores of Immortals. If Erghulan ordered her death, she would not get three steps before they cut her down.

Or they took her alive, which would be much worse. 

“You have earned my curiosity,” said Erghulan. “Proceed.” 

“Perhaps you have heard the rumors of the Balarigar slaying Rezir Shahan in Marsis, of stopping Armizid Asurius’s rebellion in Cyrioch, of fighting against the golden dead in New Kyre,” said Cassander. “The Magisterium wanted the Balarigar dead for years, and when the Order declared itself, many of the Magisterium’s secrets became our secrets. The Balarigar is in fact a Ghost nightfighter.”

Erghulan grunted. “I already suspected as much.”

“Absurd,” said Martin. “The Ghosts are a myth.” 

“Did you suspect,” said Cassander, “that the Balarigar is in fact a woman?”

It took every bit of Caina’s control to keep from flinching, and she wondered if she had just walked into a trap. 

Erghulan laughed. “Now you are jesting. No mere woman could accomplish the feats the Balarigar has.”

“Her name is Caina Amalas,” said Cassander. Martin said nothing, but Claudia’s lips thinned just a bit. “From what the Magisterium’s spies gathered, she is a noble-born orphan who the Ghosts recruited and then shaped into a capable nightfighter. Shortly before the day of the golden dead, she murdered one of Corbould Maraeus’s children. Lord Corbould wanted her dead, but the Emperor was loath to discard such a valuable tool, and instead he sent her to Istarinmul, where at his command she has begun an illegal war upon your Brotherhood of Slavers.”

“The Ghost circle of Istarinmul was destroyed after the war,” said Erghulan, but there was doubt in his voice. 

“So Caina Amalas reestablished it,” said Cassander. “The servants of my Order were hunting for her. My lord, we had hoped to rid you of this pestilential woman as a sign of our esteem for the Padishah.”

“That would be a splendid gift,” said Erghulan. “The Balarigar has caused great trouble for us. A woman, though? I find that hard to credit.” 

“Give me leave to search, my lord,” said Cassander, “and I shall find her for you. The common rabble murmur praise for her? Let us see how much they admire her when her naked corpse is hung from the walls of the Crows’ Tower.”

For a moment Caina expected Cassander to unmask her then and there. He must know what she looked like, or at least had a physical description. Then she realized that he was looking for a woman. The only reason she was still alive was because she had dressed as a man. The minute he saw past her disguise, she was dead. 

“My lord Wazir, forgive me, but I must speak,” said Martin. “This is utter nonsense. The Emperor does not maintain a network of spies.”

Erghulan snorted. “And neither does the Padishah, of course. We are all innocent little lambs.” 

“It is still nonsense,” said Martin.

“Lord Cassander presents a compelling argument,” said Erghulan.

“I do not have the sophist’s tongue that Lord Cassander wields to adroitly,” said Martin. “I am a soldier, so I shall use blunt speech.” Erghulan nodded in approval, and Caina saw the cleverness of Martin’s tactic. “Cassander Nilas offers fine arguments and honeyed words. When was the last time you heard such rousing speeches? I suspect it was when Rezir Shahan convinced the Padishah to go to war against the Empire, to trust in the promises of Andromache of New Kyre.”

Erghulan nodded again, slower, and Cassander’s smile flickered. 

“Andromache promised her power would win the day,” said Martin. “Rezir Shahan promised that Marsis would become a new emirate. All fine promises, all argued with the same eloquence Lord Cassander uses so readily. And what did those fine promises reap? Nearly two years of ruinous war! My lord, I will not make fine speeches or grand promises, nor will I promise you cheap slaves and your enemies’ heads upon a platter, but I will say this. Simply remain neutral, and the Empire shall return to the favor. Do not ally yourself with these deceitful rebels, these ruthless and murderous men who have turned against their lawful Emperor.” 

“A blunt speech,” said Erghulan. “This tedious business of diplomacy could use more blunt speeches. But all this talk has made me hungry. Let us eat!”