Seb snorted. “Sometimes I wish I never heard of the magi, and I am a brother of the Magisterium. But if you do not join the magi or the Umbarians, worse people might find you. There are many petty necromancers in Ulkaar who desire apprentices, and the various cults of the Temnoti might seek you out.”
“No!” said Sophia. “I don’t want anything to do with those people or the old ways. I am a daughter of the Temple, not Temnuzash.” She looked at Caina. “But are the loremasters any better?”
“They are,” said Caina. “I have often been…cynical about sorcerers, I will admit. And that cynicism is often justified.” Seb snorted but did not protest. “But the loremasters are better than most. Their Words of Lore are devoted to healing, defense, and knowledge, and they cannot use their spells to hurt living mortals. If you went to Iramis, they could teach you to control your abilities, and you would be safe from the boyar of Kostiv there.”
“Truly, my lady?” said Sophia. “You would take me with you?” It seemed too good to be true. Iramis had burned long ago, all men knew that. Yet if Caina really was friends with the Padishah of Istarinmul, and if Iramis had really returned…maybe Sophia could go somewhere where Razdan Nagrach could not reach her.
“Yes,” said Caina. “I warn you, the training would not be easy, and it is a long journey from here to Iramis. But if you are willing, you can come with us.”
Sophia shrugged. “Life is never easy. And this is Ulkaar. We are used to hardship here.”
“Good,” said Caina. She put the Ring back into her pocket. “That’s settled, then. We’ll get supplies at Kostiv, making sure no one there recognizes Sophia, and then continue to Risiviri and take ship to Artifel from there. Before we go back to sleep, though, I do have one question for both of you.”
“Certainly,” said Seb, and Sophia nodded.
“What is the Ring of Rasarion Yagar supposed to do?” said Caina.
Sophia blinked. “Do?”
“It must do something,” said Caina. “It has powerful necromantic spells upon it. Yagar must have created it for a reason.”
“In the old tales, it is said that the Ring of the Iron King gave him authority over all undead,” said Sophia, “and that when demons from the netherworld beheld its power, they bowed down before him and carried out his will.”
“In the histories,” said Seb, “Rasarion Yagar created several enspelled objects of great power with the aid of his Temnoti. I believe there were five – his sword, his dagger, his diadem, his amulet, and his ring, presumably the ring you found in Sigilsoara. There are constant rumors that one or another has been found. I think the last time I was in Risiviri, you could equip an entire Imperial Legion all the genuine Swords of the Iron King sold by enterprising street peddlers.”
“Whatever the Ring does,” said Caina, “it won’t be able to do it once it is secure within the Towers of Lore. We ought to get some more sleep before dawn.”
“I’ll take the watch this time,” said Kylon.
“I’ll get some more wood for the fire,” said Caina.
Sophia followed her. “I’ll help.”
Together they gathered more branches and carried them to the fire, feeding the flames. Sophia looked at Caina, her emotions twisting inside her chest. Could Caina keep that promise? Could Sophia really come with her to Iramis?
Perhaps she would become a loremaster of Iramis, just as the Warmaiden herself had been in ancient days.
For the first time in two years, Sophia Zomanek started to feel a flicker of hope.
But only a flicker. They were still close to Kostiv and within the power of Razdan Nagrach.
If Razdan and his szlachts truly thought to become the Boyar's Hunt…they would not let her go without a fight.
###
The next morning, they ate a breakfast of cold venison, covered the ashes of their campfire, and continued southwest. As they walked, the road was in better repair, and Caina saw signs of regular passage. Likely the townsfolk of Kostiv came this far north to hunt and trap and harvest lumber. Caina kept watch, seeking for both movement in the trees and signs of sorcerous auras. If the Temnoti and the Syvashar were hunting for the Ring, Caina doubted they would give up after a single failure.
But she saw no sign of anyone else.
Sophia said they would reach Kostiv in the afternoon, and Caina pondered how best to approach the town and obtain the supplies they needed. As they walked, she questioned Sophia at length about Kostiv, and Sophia answered with bemusement. About three and a half thousand people lived in Kostiv. The town had a stone wall twelve feet high to keep out bandits and undead. The wall had gates in the north and the south, and the gates were always guarded. Brother Valexis maintained the town’s Temple to the Divine with the help of a few part-time acolytes. A man named Magur was the burgomaster of the town (Seb explained the office was a bit like an urban prefect in the Empire), and while Magur hated the boyar, he would obey Razdan Nagrach for fear of his life. The burgomaster had some full-time sergeants in his employ to keep the peace, but all the men of fighting age of the town could be roused to form a militia in an emergency. The boyar’s castle was several miles west of the town, on a hill overlooking the forests and the cleared fields outside of Kostiv’s walls.
Caina would want to look for herself, but as she considered Sophia’s answers, she decided that the original plan was likely best. She would wait with Sophia in the forest while Kylon and Seb went into Kostiv to purchase supplies. Given that the boyar was friendly with the Umbarian Order, Seb could masquerade as an Umbarian battle magus and Kylon as his bodyguard. Once Seb and Kylon returned with food and supplies, they could depart, and by the time the boyar realized that an “Umbarian” had visited his town, Caina and the others would be long gone.
Sophia was still unwilling to talk about what had driven her from the town, but Caina suspected that Boyar Razdan had wanted her for something. Either it was for the usual reason a nobleman wanted to abduct a pretty girl, or perhaps the boyar had realized she had arcane talent and wanted to make a present of her to the Umbarians.
Either way, Caina hoped to help Sophia escape the fate the boyar had planned for her.
“After we pass Kostiv,” said Kylon, “what will be our best path?”
“Through the city of Vagraastrad and then to Risiviri,” said Seb. “The Voivode of Vagraastrad is quite friendly to the Umbarians, alas, so we shall have to keep a low profile. The Boyar of Risiviri is openly pro-Imperial, and from there it should be easy to hire a ship to take us to Artifel.”
Kylon frowned. “Won’t the Umbarians have ships on the Inner Sea?”
“And on the Narrow Sea, and the entirety of the Alqaarin Sea,” said Seb. “I’m afraid the Empire doesn’t yet have enough ships to contest them. As I recall, you destroyed most the Empire’s western fleet a few years ago.” Sophia gave Kylon a startled look. “So, the Umbarians have a far stronger naval force in the seas of the eastern Empire. That said, it is hard for them to get ships past the defenses of Artifel. I doubt we will encounter many Umbarians on the Inner Sea. From Artifel, you can make your way through the Disali Highlands to Malarae with ease.”
“I’ve never been to the Disali Highlands,” said Kylon.
“I have.” Caina frowned with the memory. “It was just about six years ago. There was a chieftain and his mistress, and she found this enspelled dagger the Ashbringers of old had left…”
In the distance, in the trees, she saw the sudden glow of an arcane aura.
“Wait a minute,” said Caina, coming to a stop. The others halted around her. “I see something ahead.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Seb, hand grasping his sword hilt.
“Kylon?” said Caina. “Do you sense anything?”
The steady glow of the arcane aura was coming nearer.
Kylon concentrated, and Caina saw the pale blue-silver glow as he used a spell of water sorcery. “I’m not…yes. There is something approaching. I think it’s someone wrapped in a
warding spell. I can’t sense their emotions.”
“Just one?” said Caina.
“I think so,” said Kylon. “A single sorcerer, probably.”
“Maybe an ambitious Temnoti,” said Caina. “Or an Umbarian.”
“Or another brother or sister of the Magisterium,” said Seb.
“That could be just as bad,” said Caina.
Seb grimaced but conceded the point with a nod.
“I think he’s coming right up the road,” said Kylon.
“Then let’s wait here to greet him,” said Caina, looking to the southwest. Ahead the road twisted slightly, moving around a stand of barren trees and a pile of tumbled boulders, perhaps the wreckage of a long-fallen watch tower. Through the pile of stones and the trunk of the trees, Caina saw the approaching glow of a warding spell. Caina braced herself but did not call her valikon to her hand. If the approaching sorcerer proved to be hostile, she wanted to be ready to fight, but she would prefer it if the sorcerer underestimated her.
It was useful to be underestimated.
She heard the faint rasp of boots against the frozen road and the tap of a cane or staff.
A moment later the figure came into sight, and Caina blinked in surprise.
Whatever she had been expecting, this had not been it.
A towering figure walked towards her, standing nearly seven feet tall. The shape looked vaguely female and wore a heavy brown dress of rough material beneath a long, tattered gray cloak, the massive cowl concealing the woman’s face. The left hand and arm were hidden beneath the heavy cloak. The woman’s right hand was gnarled and thick and age-spotted and clutched a twisted wooden staff with a peculiar sheen to it.
No, the staff wasn’t wooden – it was made of bronze, corroded and green with age, though shiny spots still showed here and there. To Caina’s eyes, it gave off a faint glow of sorcerous power, a glow that wrapped around the woman and sheathed her in a warding spell.
Caina heard Sophia’s startled inhalation of breath.
“No,” said Seb, amazed. “It cannot be.”
The woman hobbled towards them, the cracked leather of her boots rasping against the ground.
“Do you know her?” said Caina.
“The Bronze Witch,” breathed Sophia.
“Who is that?” said Caina.
Seb’s eyes were fixed on the approaching figure. “A legend.”
“It is said that the Bronze Witch roams the forests of Ulkaar,” said Sophia in a small, frightened voice. “If travelers are kind to her, she gives them blessings and gifts. If travelers are cruel to her, the Witch unveils her power and gives them riddles. If they answer the riddles, she lets them live. If they fail…she eats them alive.”
“I have already seen Sigilsoara and the Ring of Rasarion Yagar,” said Seb. “What is one more legend out of the deeps of the past?”
The woman stopped and let out a cracking, croaking sound, her head still bowed. It took Caina a moment to realize that she was laughing.
“Tut, tut, tut, children,” said the old woman in Caerish with a thick, near-impenetrable Ulkaari accent. “Talking about your elders in front of them.” She lifted her face and gazed at them. “It is most impolite.”
Caina blinked in surprise. The shadows remained gathered in the old woman’s cowl, concealing most of her face. Yet enough light penetrated the hood that Caina could see shape of the lined, ancient face, could see the old woman’s teeth.
They, liked her staff, were made of corroded bronze.
“Greetings,” said Caina. “We were unaware that you spoke Caerish.”
“Well, I do, dear girl, I do,” said the old woman. She hobbled closer a few steps and stopped as if the effort had exhausted her. “Young people are so overconfident these days.”
“Are…are you the Bronze Witch, ma’am?” said Sophia, her eyes still wide.
“Oh, they call me that,” said the Witch, her shadowed face turning towards Sophia. “But that is one of the nicer things they call me, come to think of it. I suppose you can call me that too, if you like. But people collect names as they get older.” The cowl turned towards Caina. “Your friend, for instance, is called the Balarigar in some places.”
“You’ve heard of me, then?” said Caina.
“Oh, yes. I hear people speaking the tales of the Balarigar in the taverns of Risiviri.”
“Then you’ve heard bad things, then,” said Caina.
The Witch cackled again. “Well. It’s so hard to tell the truth and so easy to repeat a lie, isn’t it? Rumors spread like weeds and choke out the truth. I heard one rumor that a valikarion had returned to Ulkaar, that she had taken the Ring of Rasarion Yagar from Sigilsoara, and the Temnoti were interested in finding her.”
“One cannot believe everything that one hears,” said Caina.
“One cannot,” said the Witch. “Why, the tales I have heard of the Balarigar are almost as unbelievable as the things they say about me, and those are only mostly true.”
Caina stared at the old woman. The Bronze Witch might have been a fearsome legend among the Ulkaari, but Caina had her doubts. The aura of power around the Witch was nowhere near as strong as those around the Temnoti she had seen in Sigilsoara. The woman in the cloak had some sorcerous power, but Caina suspected not very much. And it was possible to achieve the rough voice through practice and the ragged appearance with makeup and changes in stance.
Caina ought to know. She had done it herself many times.
Someone was putting on a performance for them. But why?
“I don’t know if you’ll believe this,” said Caina, “but we don’t want any trouble, and we shall be happy to leave you in peace if you return the favor.”
Again the old woman cackled. “And I never want any trouble either, but trouble finds me nonetheless.”
“Well,” said Caina, “you’ll get not trouble from us.”
“And if I desire to give you trouble?” said the Witch.
“If you do,” said Caina, glancing at Kylon. “You see the sword he has. If you really are the Bronze Witch,” the old woman chuckled, while Sophia blinked, “then you’ll know that no sorcerer has a defense against a sword like that. I think it is in everyone’s best interest, especially yours, if no one starts a fight.”
“You mean his valikon will tear through my wards and strike me down, the wicked old sinner that I am?” said the Witch. “Well, it would. I never thought to see a valikon in the hands of a Kyracian stormdancer, but stranger things have happened. But I do not wish to start a fight with you, Balarigar and Arvaltyr. Merely to share news.”
“Oh,” said Caina. “And what news is that, if I might ask?”
“You may not seek trouble,” said the Witch, “but while you carry the Ring of Rasarion Yagar, trouble will seek you. Many people desire that evil thing, and you would do well to keep it from them.”
“That is what I intend,” said Caina.
“And you,” said the Witch, “have brought trouble on their heads, haven’t you?”
Caina frowned, wondering what that meant, and then realized that the Bronze Witch had been speaking to Sophia.
Sophia shrank away from the old woman’s shadowed gaze. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“You understand perfectly well, child,” said the Witch. “You know the real reason you fled Kostiv. Have you told your new friends? Or were you planning on waiting until the trouble caught up to you all?”
“I just want to get away from Kostiv,” said Sophia. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to get far away from the town.”
“No, dear child,” said the Witch. “You wanted to get away from the boyar and his szlachts. You wanted to get away from what they had become.”
“Sophia?” said Caina.
Sophia said nothing, her face tight with fear. She suddenly reminded Caina of a deer caught motionless by the approach of a wolf.
“Balarigar,” said the Witch, and there was a sudden urgency in that rough voice.
“Listen to me. You are about to be in great danger.”
“More than I already am?” said Caina.
“More immediate, let us say,” said the Witch. “I will give you this piece of advice.” She leveled her bronze staff, pointing it east. “Directly east of here, about a mile away, is a place called a Sanctuary Stone.”
“What?” said Seb, astonished. “One of the Warmaiden’s Sanctuaries is here?”
“Yes,” said the Witch. “Nadezhda scattered them far and wide across Ulkaar for the protection of her people from the Iron King’s servants. Many of them are still in use, but some have been forgotten. Save by me, of course. One such Stone is a mile east of this road.”
“What is a Sanctuary Stone?” said Caina.
“A relic of the Warmaiden,” said Seb. “But a beneficial one. When she returned from Iramis to overthrow the Iron King, she planted them across Ulkaar, dozens of them. The stones give off a warding spell, and no undead can enter within the radius of the ward. They are still widely used today, and rural inns and villages have been built around them.”
“Yes,” said the Witch. “And you shall need that protection shortly. The boyar’s szlachts are coming to claim Sophia…and the worse things within the szlachts. They will kill you and take the girl if they can. Perhaps the Stone will help protect you. Perhaps you truly are a valikarion, and you will fight them off. Or maybe they will kill you.” The shoulders shrugged beneath the massive cloak. “We shall find out soon, will we not? If you are victorious, Balarigar, we shall speak again.”
There was a surge of arcane power from the staff, and the Bronze Witch vanished from sight. Caina blinked. The Bronze Witch hadn’t turned invisible or used an illusion spell to vanish. If she had, the vision of the valikarion would have let Caina see through the spell. Instead, the Witch had somehow used sorcery to transport herself away.
“That was…unsettling, to say the least,” said Seb.
Kylon shook his head. “Was that truly the Bronze Witch, do you think? Or someone playing the part?”
Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1) Page 14
