“The necromancer killed old Lord Haeron Icaraeus,” said Seb, “and his eldest son took up slave trading near Marsis. He was killed right before the war with Istarinmul and New Kyre. But Valron never got along with his father or his brother, and he joined the Magisterium. The high magi elected him as Praesar a few years before the civil war began.” He hesitated. “He’s a good commander. To be blunt, if not for him, the Umbarians might have taken Artifel during the first siege. The First Magus is a devious politician, but he’s useless as a battlefield commander.”
“But if they’re waiting for us,” said Ilona, “how did they know we were coming?”
The answer came to Caina with a surge of anger.
“Oromaris,” said Caina, her voice cold.
Aristide Oromaris was a master magus and the preceptor of the Magisterium chapter of Risiviri. He had fought to restore the Boyar to his title and defeat Talmania’s attempt to seize control of the city, but he had realized that Sophia had arcane ability and demanded that the girl enroll in the Magisterium as an initiate. Caina had refused, and the Boyar had bullied Oromaris into backing down.
But the magi could communicate over long distances. Oromaris had likely possessed the ability to send telepathic messages to the high magi in Artifel. No doubt he had sent a message to the Motherhouse, telling them that a potential initiate for the Magisterium was on her way to the city.
And had he told them about the Sword of Rasarion Yagar?
That damned fool.
“Oromaris sent word ahead with a spell, told them we were coming,” said Caina. “They are waiting for us.”
“My lady?” said Sophia, her eyes going wide. “Are they going to take me?” The fear on her face was plain. The Magisterium was respected in Ulkaar, but not loved, not the way the memory of the Iramisian loremasters was.
“They might,” said Caina.
But she had no idea how to stop it. There were a dozen magi on the quay, and Caina and the others couldn’t fight them all. And if Oromaris had told the Motherhouse who Caina really was, the magi had ample reason to kill her. Hell, they might want to kill Kylon as well. He had destroyed the Empire’s western fleet during the war with New Kyre, and he had killed several battle magi during that time.
“Let me talk to Lord Valron first,” said Seb. “He knows me. We fought alongside each other during the siege of Artifel. Maybe I can find out what’s going on before…”
Before it came to violence.
“All right,” said Caina. “Everyone. Follow Seb’s lead. Don’t start any violence. Not until they do.”
“If it comes to a fight,” said Kylon, “we can’t take them all.”
“No,” said Caina.
“What are we going to do?” said Sophia.
“Talk fast,” said Caina.
The Harpoon slid to a stop next to the quay, and a nervous-looking Karzov gave orders for the crew to lower the gangplank. Caina took a deep breath and looked at Kylon, and he offered a grim nod.
“Let’s see what the Praesar wants,” said Caina.
She headed for the gangplank, Kylon and Seb on either side of her, and Morgant, Sophia, and Ilona followed. Caina picked her way down the gangplank and stepped onto the stone of the quay.
The Praesar stepped forward. Caina recognized Valron Icaraeus at once. He looked like his short, stout father. Yet Haeron Icaraeus had carried the heaviness of luxurious living, at least until Maglarion’s infusions of stolen life force had made him young and strong again. Valron had the stocky muscle of a warrior beneath his black armor, and his face was hard and scarred, his close-cropped brown hair going prematurely gray.
“I am Valron Icaraeus, Praesar of the Imperial Magisterium, and I am looking for…” started Valron in High Nighmarian, his voice clear and commanding.
“Lord Praesar?” said Seb, stepping forward.
Valron’s speech broke off, and he blinked in surprise.
“Seb?” he said, his voice much less authoritarian. “You’re alive, lad? We thought you died in that sorcerous disturbance. The Legionaries in your patrol said you disappeared into thin air. Thought it was some new spell the damned Umbarians thought up.”
“No,” said Seb. “It was the work of Talmania Scorneus.”
Valron’s broad face darkened. “The provost?”
“Yes,” said Seb. “She was attempting to summon Sigilsoara, the ancient fortress of Rasarion Yagar, from out of the netherworld. She used her blood to empower the spell, which wound up summoning me in the process as well. I’ve had a devil of a time getting back to Artifel.”
Now there was an understatement.
Valron grunted. “Explains a lot. Though Oromaris didn’t bother to mention that in his message.”
Some of Caina’s tension relaxed. She was going to make Oromaris regret this one day, but at least the preceptor had possessed the wit not to mention the Sword of Rasarion Yagar to his superiors.
“What’s going on?” said Seb. “Why are you waiting for us?”
Valron took a deep breath. “Is she with you? The Balarigar?”
Caina stepped forward. “You are looking for me, Lord Praesar?”
Valron’s gaze turned to her. “Are you Caina Scorneus Amalas Tarshahzon Kardamnos?”
By the Divine, her full name had gotten long.
She met his eyes. “I am.”
Despite the tension, she was amused to see a few of the Lictors take a cautious step back.
“Gods,” said Valron. “Now that I see you…you do look just like Talmania and Rania. And the Widow, come to think of it.”
Caina frowned. “The Widow?”
“You shouldn’t call Aunt Ariadne that, my lord,” said Seb. “It makes her cross.”
“I certainly wouldn’t call her that to her face,” said Valron.
“You’re looking for me,” said Caina. “What do you want, lord Praesar?”
Valron took another deep breath. Suddenly Caina had the impression that he was carrying out a duty that he found distasteful.
“Caina Kardamnos,” said Valron, “it is my duty to inform you that you are to be placed under arrest.”
“For what charge?” said Caina, letting her voice grow icy.
“For attempting to circumvent the lawful enrollment of a new initiate into the Magisterium,” said Valron. “Additionally, Sophia Zomanek of Ulkaar shall be taken as an initiate of the Imperial Magisterium.”
Sophia flinched, fear flickering over her expression.
“No,” said Caina.
“I don’t think you understand the reality of the situation, Lady Kardamnos,” said Valron. “We…”
“The reality of the situation, Lord Praesar?” said Caina. She had never sought for fame or honors, but they had come to her nonetheless, and she would use them as weapons if she had no choice. “Here’s the reality. One, I am a noblewoman of Istarinmul, adopted into House Tarshahzon. The new Padishah of Istarinmul says that I am his adoptive sister. Two, I am also a noblewoman of Iramis. The Prince gave me the title of Liberator of Iramis. Three, Sophia Zomanek has sworn to me as my liegewoman. That means I have every legal right to take her from the Empire with me, and it is both my intention and her wish that I take her to Iramis to study as a loremaster.”
“Be that as it may…” said Valron.
“My lord,” said Seb, “is this worth the trouble? The Empire’s alliance with Istarinmul has kept the Umbarian fleet from attacking Malarae. Is it really worth the risk of upsetting that alliance? If the Padishah finds out that the Magisterium arrested his adoptive sister, I imagine he will not react well.”
Valron grimaced. “I would be inclined to agree. However, the matter is out of my hands. The First Magus himself has ordered this arrest and wants Lady Kardamnos and the initiate brought before him.”
The First Magus? Caina had met Decius Aberon once, years ago, in Catekharon. She recalled a cruel, arrogant man who was a potent sorcerer. Likely Decius had no idea that Caina had been at that meeting.
> But she knew far more about the First Magus from what Corvalis and Claudia had told her. Like Hyraekon Scorneus, the First Magus had tried to turn his children into weapons. Unlike Hyraekon, Decius had sired as many bastard children as possible, turning them into his agents and enforcers as they came of age. He had trained Claudia to be an extension of his will, and since Corvalis had no arcane ability, Decius had sold his son to the Kindred assassin family of Artifel. In time, Claudia had rebelled against her father, and Corvalis had gone with her. Decius had retaliated by using an earth elemental to turn Claudia to stone, which had led to Caina meeting Corvalis and Claudia in the city of Cyrioch, far south of Artifel.
And after Claudia had been rescued, Caina had fallen into bed with Corvalis.
A shiver of old, old anger went through her. Corvalis had been a supremely capable fighter, good at everything he set himself to do. Yet in time Caina had seen beneath his sardonic mask and had realized just how brutalized Corvalis had been by the Kindred, how the assassins had tried to burn every bit of mercy and kindness from him.
Corvalis’s father had sold him to those men.
Maybe the First Magus intended the same for Sophia Zomanek.
The old anger grew hotter.
No. Caina had seen what the magi were really like. She would not let them take Sophia and twist her into someone like Talmania Scorneus.
Somehow.
“Very well, Lord Praesar,” said Caina. “We will accompany you to the Motherhouse to speak with the First Magus. Perhaps we can yet persuade him of his folly.”
“Not that anyone has ever managed that,” muttered Seb.
Valron did not rebuke the younger man. Caina took that as a good sign.
“So be it,” said Valron. “I will need to take your weapons…”
“No,” said Caina.
“I’m afraid I must insist,” said Valron.
“If you do,” said Caina, “when I return to Istarinmul, I will tell the Padishah of the grievous insult the Magisterium offered him by treating his adoptive sister like a common criminal.”
Valron let out a long breath, and Caina caught the hint of strain on his features. “Damn it, Lady Kardamnos. The Empire is struggling for its survival against the Umbarian Order. Would you cause dissension within the Empire and the Magisterium now?”
“Yes. I would,” said Caina. “I will be blunt, Lord Praesar. Sebastian says you are an honorable man, and I will take him at his word. But I know the First Magus, my lord. I know his reputation, and I know what he has done. I would not trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“And given his girth,” said Seb, “that would not be very far at all.”
A few of the battle magi let out laughs, and Valron silenced them with a harsh glare.
“Perhaps it would be better to treat you as an ambassador of the Padishah and the Prince of Iramis,” said Valron. “That might avoid potential diplomatic…difficulties. Who are your other companions, Lady Kardamnos?”
“My husband,” said Caina, “Kylon, the rightful High Seat of House Kardamnos.”
“The Shipbreaker,” said Valron.
“So some have called me,” said Kylon. A few of the battle magi shifted. Caina wondered if they were survivors of the destruction of the Imperial fleet at the hands of the Kyracian warships.
Valron grunted. “You always let your wife do your talking for you, my lord?”
Kylon shrugged. “She’s better at talking. I’m better at violence. We haven't gotten to the violence yet.”
“A good answer,” said Valron.
“This is Ilona, a woman who entered my service in Risiviri,” said Caina. She looked at Morgant. “And this…”
“I am Markaine of Caer Marist, at your service,” said Morgant, and he offered a bow, flourishing the end of his coat as he did so. Both Kylon and Seb rolled their eyes. “And I am the greatest painter in the Empire of Nighmar.”
Valron seemed unimpressed. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you can’t expect the Lady Kardamnos to travel without her painter, can’t you?” said Morgant.
“A painter with a scimitar and a dagger at his belt, I see,” said Valron.
Morgant shrugged. “Sometimes people criticize my paintings.”
Valron blinked at that and looked at Caina again. “Please come this way, Lady Kardamnos. If we must play out this farce, then let’s get it over with as soon as possible.”
Chapter 3: Motherhouse
The militiamen, Lictors, and battle magi formed up around Caina and the others, and she noted they looked more like an honor guard than soldiers escorting captured prisoners. Perhaps they had seen the danger of potentially offending the Padishah of Istarinmul. Or maybe Kylon’s reputation had reached Artifel, and they wished to keep a healthy distance between themselves and the blade of the Shipbreaker.
Though if it came to a fight, Caina and the others would almost certainly lose.
No. Caina could not resort to main force, because force would fail. Whatever the Magisterium’s internal divisions, whatever Valron Icaraeus’s opinion of the First Magus, if Caina struck the first blow the magi would unify against her. There was no way she and Kylon and the others could fight their way out of a city ruled by the Magisterium.
She would have to watch and wait and choose the best moment to act. Perhaps she could negotiate with Decius Aberon. The First Magus was a cruel and brutal man, but he was not a fool. He would not have lasted so long in his office otherwise. Claudia had told Caina that Decius had almost been deposed from his position at the start of the civil war because the magi blamed him for poor leadership, and to judge from the reactions of Valron and the battle magi, that attitude had only hardened in the two and a half years since the start of the civil war.
And if worse came to worse, Caina and Kylon both had valikons.
Not that she could use the swords to fight the magi, but perhaps she could use them to intimidate. Caina had never heard of the valikarion until she had gone to Istarinmul and become one, but it seemed that the Magisterium had once hated and feared the valikarion knights of Iramis. Given the Magisterium’s reliance on mind sorcery and the immunity of the valikarion to mind-altering spells, that wasn’t surprising. If the First Magus realized that Caina was a valikarion, perhaps she could intimidate him into backing down.
Or maybe he would order her killed.
Caina could not decide on a course of action until she spoke with the First Magus.
Damn Oromaris for this! That petty, prideful fool. He knew what would happen if the Sword of Rasarion Yagar fell into Umbarian hands, and yet he had arranged for this wretched little ambush. If Caina ever returned to Risiviri, she would make sure that Oromaris understood his folly.
If she lived through the next hour.
She followed the Praesar and his soldiers through the Northern Quarter of Artifel, climbing the gentle slope of the streets to the inner city and the Motherhouse. To her mild surprise, the outer city of Artifel did not look all that different from the poorer districts of other cities she had visited. Warehouses lined the streets near the harbors, and beyond rose tall apartment towers, the ground floors holding taverns and shops. They passed two towering aqueducts of rusticated stonework that brought water from the Disali Highlands to the west. Unlike Malarae, there were slender towers of varying designs everywhere, most of them thinner and taller than the apartment buildings. To the vision of the valikarion, wards blazed around the towers, and Caina knew these towers were the homes of master magi or high magi.
Artifel was also quite clearly a city at war. Endless ox-drawn carts of food and equipment rolled through the streets, heading towards the Eastern Harbor. Caina knew those supplies and provisions would be shipped across the Strait and brought to the massed Imperial Legions fighting their way through the forests of Nova Nighmaria. Militia patrols moved up and down the street, and every third patrol had a black-robed brother or sister of the Magisterium accompanying them. The magi held their power ready,
and Caina recognized the spell to sense the presence of a Silent Hunter’s invisibility. She wondered if the First Magus or the Praesar had organized the patrols.
As she looked at Valron and noted the calluses on his hands and the worn leather wrapping the grip of his sword, Caina concluded it was most likely the Praesar.
They passed through the gate to the inner city, and Caina’s skin crawled as they crossed the defensive wards mantling the inner wall. The nausea grew worse, and she was grateful she hadn’t eaten breakfast. There were no apartment buildings within the inner city, but there were numerous mansions in the Imperial Nighmarian style, with columns and porticos and gardens cloaked in snow. The towers here were more ornate, sheathed in stronger warding spells. The patrols on the street were not militiamen but soldiers in the ornate black armor of the Magisterial Guards, the bodyguards and personal soldiers of the magi. Some of the Magisterial Guards were formidable soldiers, but Caina suspected every capable fighter had been pulled into the army striving against the Umbarians to the east.
Then they came to a vast forum lined with shops, and the massive dark bulk of the Motherhouse of the Imperial Magisterium rose before Caina.
Like many of the Magisterium’s chapterhouses, it had been built of spell-worked stone, and it rose like a black wall over the forum. The massive central dome stretched against the sky like a mountain, and the smaller domes surrounded it like foothills. A tall gate stood open in its outer wall, and the keystone of the archway had been inscribed with the Magisterium’s sigil, a human eye looking out from the pages of an open book. Beyond the arch was a tall, pillared corridor, and a mixture of magi and servants in black livery moved through the corridor, intent on their tasks.
“You men,” said Valron, pointing at the militiamen and the battle magi. “Return to your duties as I instructed earlier. The Lictors and I will take our…guests to speak with the First Magus in the Grand Dome.”
The militiamen and the battle magi saluted and left the Motherhouse, heading back into the city.
“You trust us alone with you, Lord Praesar?” said Caina.
Ghost in the Tower Page 4
