Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1)

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Dear gods,” muttered Seb. “She’s telling the truth, isn’t she?”

  Kylon gave a sharp nod, watching Caina. Granted, it had been a bit more complicated than that, but every word was true.

  “And my husband,” said Caina, gesturing at Kylon. He blinked in surprise. “Do you know what he has done? He killed the Lieutenant of the Inferno, the Iron Hell where the Immortals were trained. He defeated the Master Alchemist Rhataban when an entire army ran from him. He killed the Lord Cassander Nilas and broke the Throne of Corazain and saved a million men, women, and children from being burned alive in Istarinmul. He broke the western fleet of the Empire, and they still call him Kylon Shipbreaker for it. And he killed the Red Huntress with that valikon. An assassin a century and a half old, who had killed and killed and never been defeated, and he cut her down and avenged the oceans of innocent blood she had spilled. And you just saw him slay Varlov with that same valikon. A mavrokh invincible and powerful, and he died in a second and a half.”

  Caina made it sound so much more impressive than it really had been.

  Sophia gaped at Caina. That uncertainty filled her emotional sense, but now there was something else.

  A flicker of hope. Tentative and dim, but it was there.

  “The boyar will kill us all,” said Sophia. “You should be afraid of him.”

  “Perhaps I should be,” said Caina. “Only a fool doesn’t fear her enemies.” She leaned a little closer. “But do you know something?”

  Sophia tried to shake her head, but Caina’s fingers held her fast.

  “Maybe the boyar,” said Caina, “should be afraid of us.”

  She let go of Sophia and stepped back.

  For a moment, no one said anything.

  Kylon sensed the furious churn in Sophia’s emotions. He had seen Caina do this kind of thing before. She had convinced the undead of the Inferno to fight for her, persuaded Cronmer’s Circus Of Marvels And Wonders to help them against Cassander, had convinced the men of the Imperial Guard and New Kyre to fight alongside each other on the day of the golden dead. When she set her mind to it, she was an astonishing orator and could persuade people to push themselves far harder than they would have otherwise. No wonder the Ghosts of Istarinmul had been devoted to her. Old Agabyzus and his sister Damla had loved her the way loyal soldiers loved a victorious commander.

  Little wonder the legend of the Balarigar had grown around her like a pearl.

  “Maybe,” said Sophia, and she swallowed, “maybe the Arvaltyri of old talked the way you do.”

  “Maybe,” said Caina, and suddenly she grinned. “I met a few of them in Iramis, but they didn’t like to talk very much.”

  Sophia laughed and then blinked in surprise. “All right. Maybe you really are an Arvaltyr of old, and I shall put myself into your hands.” She shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why does the boyar want you back so badly?” said Caina.

  “The Boyar’s Hunt,” said Sophia.

  “Ah,” said Seb, his expression grim.

  “What is the Boyar’s Hunt?” said Caina.

  “How I shall die,” said Sophia. She grimaced and waved at Seb. “Let Lord Sebastian describe it. His Caerish is better. If he is wrong, I shall say so.”

  “Thank you, madam,” said Seb with a slight bow. He turned back to Caina. “Do you recall when Lord Kylon and I discussed what the Empire would consider barbarous?” Caina nodded. “The Boyar’s Hunt is one such custom. Rasarion Yagar instituted it during his reign, a privilege accorded to his boyars and szlachts who had become mavrokhi. For the Boyar’s Hunt, a boyar could select seven young women from the lands under his control.” Kylon suspected he knew where this was going. “On the day of the Hunt, the women would be deprived of their clothing and driven into the forest, and the boyar and his szlachts would assume their wolf-forms. They would then hunt the women chosen for the Hunt, and a mavrokh who caught one of the women could claim her for his own, to use her to slake whatever appetites he wished.” He shrugged. “Almost always the women were eaten alive after various…indignities.”

  “I see,” said Caina. Kylon knew that look on her face. That had often been her expression when she had spoken of the Slavers’ Brotherhood of Istarinmul. “I take it Razdan Nagrach has brought back this custom, and you were chosen for it?”

  “Yes,” said Sophia. “Last week. I live with my uncle Ivan in Kostiv. Rudjak came from the boyar’s castle. He said that I was one of the girls chosen for the Hunt. I…I didn’t know what to do. No one can fight the boyar. Uncle Ivan would, but he is old and sick, and Brother Valexis would, but his powers are not strong enough. If I stayed, they would be killed, and I would be taken for the Hunt anyway.”

  “The boyar,” said Caina. “How many szlachts does he have?”

  “Sixteen,” said Sophia.

  “Fifteen, now,” said Seb, looking at Varlov.

  “They all have men-at-arms,” said Sophia, “but only the boyar’s szlachts have become mavrokhi.”

  “When did it start?” said Caina. “Two years ago, I assume? Soon after the civil war began?”

  “Aye,” said Sophia. “The rumors said that the Temnoti visited the boyar’s castle. Soon after the boyar proclaimed that he was now a follower of Temnuzash and that he was a Hound of the Iron King. His father Boyar Vlad hanged criminals. Boyar Razdan would take wolf-shape and devour them alive. Before the war started, my uncle and the burgomaster would have written to the Imperial Lord Governor or the Magisterium for help.” She shrugged. “But they are fighting the Umbarians, and we are on our own.”

  “And there is no one,” said Caina, “to stop the boyar from doing as he wishes.”

  “Aye,” said Sophia again. “We tried sending messengers to the Voivode of Vagraastrad for help, but the Voivode had the messengers flogged and sent back with instructions not to question our lawful lords.”

  “I see,” said Caina again.

  “We should run,” said Sophia. “We should run right now, and go to Vagraastrad or Risiviri. There are many people in both cities. Maybe the boyar’s men will miss us there, and we can escape from Ulkaar.”

  “I’m afraid,” said Caina, “that it is too late to run.”

  ###

  Caina considered what Sophia and Seb had told her.

  She had seen how fast and strong Varlov had been in his wolf-form, and she had to assume that the other mavrokhi that Razdan Nagrach commanded would have the same abilities. A single Hound would be dangerous. Sixteen of them at once would be lethal.

  “Why can’t we run?” said Sophia.

  “Because,” said Kylon before Caina could answer, “Rudjak and Bashkir and the others will run right to the boyar to tell him what happened.”

  Caina nodded. “And the boyar will have no choice but to strike back at once. He can’t let a challenge to his authority like this pass unanswered.”

  “Yes,” said Seb. “I fear we have dropped a gauntlet at his feet. It might mean a battle to the death.”

  “Perhaps,” said Caina. She supposed that deepened on whether or not Razdan Nagrach was a fool. That he was cruel and brutal was beyond all debate. The question was if his lust for Sophia would override his thinking, whether he could set aside his pride and listen to reason. It was obvious that the valikons were a deadly danger to the boyar and his Hounds.

  The question was how Razdan Nagrach would respond to that danger. Would the boyar attack in a blind fury, seeking to destroy the threat? Would he take a more cautious approach, hoping to lure Caina and Kylon into a situation where they could not escape? Or would he feign friendship, hoping to stab Caina in the back at the soonest opportunity?

  Caina didn’t know. And until she knew more about the boyar, she would not guess how he might respond to the threat.

  But she did know two things.

  They could not stay here, and they had to get out of the forest and find more defensible ground as soon as possible. The power of the Sanctuary Stone had slowed the
mavrokhi, but it had not stopped them. The frozen forests of northern Ulkaar gave all the advantages to the mavrokhi. More, Caina needed to keep the initiative. Better to have the boyar reacting to her actions than the other way around. Right now, she had the initiative. Rudjak and his men would return to the boyar’s castle, and then Razdan Nagrach would act.

  Caina needed to be ready by then. More importantly, they needed to be out of the forest before the boyar came hunting for them.

  “So,” said Seb. “I suppose the most important question of all is what we shall do next.”

  “Agreed,” said Caina. “We can’t run. Those mavrokhi will catch us if we try. That means we have no choice but to fight or to bluff, and if we try to fight the Hounds in the forest, we’ll lose.”

  “They have all the advantages in the forest,” said Kylon.

  “They do,” said Caina. She looked to Sophia. “How far is it to the boyar’s castle from here?”

  “About a day,” said Sophia.

  “And to the gates of Kostiv?”

  Sophia considered. “Less than half a day. We might get there before dark if we hurry.”

  Caina nodded. “Then it seems we have no choice but to go to Kostiv, all of us.”

  Seb frowned. “And what will we do at Kostiv?”

  Caina thought about her answer. Once again, it seemed, she had to play a dangerous game with high stakes. Their own lives were in the balance, of course. Yet the presence of the Ring of Rasarion Yagar in her pocket ensured that the stakes were far higher. If they were killed, the Ring would fall into the hands of Razdan Nagrach. If that happened, almost certainly the boyar would hand the Ring over to the Umbarians to curry favor, or the Umbarians would simply take the Ring from him.

  Caina didn’t know what powers the Ring possessed, and she didn’t want to find out. She especially did not want to find out when the Umbarians used the Ring to destroy the Empire.

  Of course, if they did that, she would already be dead.

  Caina had thought that she would settle in Iramis and serve as an advisor to Prince Nasser. She might have been finished with dangerous games…but it seemed that deadly games were not done with her.

  But maybe that was all right. Caina was good at dangerous games.

  “We are going to bluff,” said Caina.

  Chapter 12: The Countess

  They took the road to the southwest as fast as they could.

  Kylon kept his arcane senses extended, watching the trees for any sign of danger. The only other people he sensed nearby were Sophia and Seb. Sophia’s aura veered between stark terror and wild hope, while Seb simply had the grim sense of a warrior preparing himself for battle. Nothing moved in the trees, and Kylon sensed no one else nearby.

  Nevertheless, Kylon kept his senses extended and his valikon ready in his hand. Rudjak and his men might recover their nerve and come back. For that matter, once Razdan Nagrach learned of the news, he would respond with force.

  Kylon had once been one of the nine Archons of New Kyre, the chief magistrates of the city. And if someone had blatantly challenged the authority of the Archons the way that he and Caina had just challenged the authority of Razdan Nagrach, the Archons would have had no choice but to respond with deadly force.

  He doubted the boyar would feel differently.

  Of course, while New Kyre was reliant upon slavery, the Kyracians had nothing so brutal as the Boyar’s Hunt. Kylon could not recall hearing of a Kyracian nobleman who hunted people for sport. And save for those few who had been possessed by a nagataaru after the day of the golden dead, Kylon could not recall a Kyracian nobleman who had voluntarily chosen to become possessed by a malevolent spirit. Necromancy and summoning malevolent spirits from the netherworld were forbidden in New Kyre, likely because it resulted in creatures like the Red Huntress and cruelties like the Boyar’s Hunt.

  Seb kept watching the trees. He, too, knew that Rudjak might return. Sophia walked in silence, staring at the road, looking neither right or left. Kylon found himself admiring the girl’s bravery. He sensed the terror that the thought of returning to Kostiv summoned in her, yet she kept going.

  Of course, if she stayed in the forest, she was going to die. Or the mavrokhi would find her, and then she would die. Kylon supposed she might have killed herself in terror, but she kept pushing on.

  Kylon and Seb spent the time watching for enemies. Sophia brooded.

  Caina fussed with her hair.

  “I wish,” she said, her hands weaving her hair into a braid, “that I had a mirror. Or some horses.”

  “Horses?” said Seb, bemused.

  Caina’s hair had been hanging loose around her shoulders, but she had arranged it into the elaborate crown favored by the noblewomen of Malarae, a braid encircling her head and a few loose locks hanging against her neck. Kylon was impressed that she could do that without a mirror while walking in a forest. She had also been rearranging her clothes, buttoning the red coat to her neck and turning up the collar. The net effect almost made the coat look like the elaborate dress of a self-important noblewoman.

  “Yes, horses,” said Caina. “We could make a more impressive entrance that way. Also, some jewelry. None of us cut very impressive figures, I’m afraid. Well, Seb does, but a battle magus of the Magisterium is a different kind of impressive.”

  “If a lone noblewoman walked up to the gates of Kostiv covered in jewels,” said Sophia, baffled, “the boyar’s men would probably rob her.”

  “I have a stormdancer and a battle magus to keep that from happening,” said Caina. “And, also, all the jewels I took from the ardivid are safely concealed in my pockets.” She looked at her wrist. “I suppose this will have to do.”

  Her pyrikon bracelet unfolded itself in a flicker of white light and jumped to her forehead. Kylon watched as the pyrikon reshaped itself into a slender diadem that encircled her forehead and black hair, glinting in the cold winter light as it did.

  “A crown?” said Sophia, baffled.

  “A diadem.” Seb gave Caina an amused glance. “I imagine the difference is significant.”

  “Quite.” Caina grinned at him. “The difference is between good taste and too much. And some Imperial women wear diadems. It depends on their lineage and the offices that their husbands hold. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is impressing the men of the town enough that they don’t kill us or turn us away.”

  “And what do we want them to do?” said Seb.

  “Not kill us,” said Caina. “And to send a message to the boyar.”

  “You want to send a message to the boyar?” said Sophia, incredulous. “What will it say? ‘Here we are, come eat us?’”

  “I will phrase it differently than that,” said Caina.

  Kylon watched his wife as she returned to arranging her hair. He knew her well enough to guess her thoughts. “You have a plan.”

  “I think so,” said Caina, “but that depends on how the boyar reacts to what we do next.”

  “How he reacts?” said Sophia. “What are we going to do?”

  Seb snorted. “I think I can guess at that, madam. We are going to show confidence. We are going to stride into Kostiv as if we own the town. Caina Amalas Tarshahzon Kardamnos will be at her most lordly. Or ladylike, I suppose, and Lord Kylon and I will punch anyone who offers her the slightest disrespect.”

  “Why?” said Sophia, blinking at Caina.

  Caina looked at Seb. “Can you guess why?”

  “Because the boyar is a predator,” said Seb, “and there is one thing you must never, ever do when confronted by a predator.”

  Caina nodded. “Show weakness.”

  They walked in silence for a while.

  “I hope you are right,” said Sophia.

  Kylon shrugged. “We’re about to find out.” The trees were thinning, cut down to provide firewood, and Kylon saw the signs of cultivation ahead.

  “Truly, Lady Caina and Lord Sebastian must be half-siblings,” said Sophia. “They both have th
e same…the same sideways method of thinking.”

  Caina and Seb shared a look. Kylon could tell they were not entirely pleased by the comparison because they were both hated Laeria Scorneus Amalas. Though Sophia was right. Caina and Sebastian Scorneus did tend to think along parallel paths.

  Then the trees thinned out, and Kylon saw Kostiv.

  The dirt road led into a broad, shallow valley, a wide river flowing through its center. The town stood alongside the wide river, huddled within a thick wall of stone. The wall was twelve feet high, and many of the houses rose far higher than the wall, some of them four or five stories tall. Smoke drifted from the chimneys of the houses, and the empty fields outside the town were deserted. On the far side of the town, near the river, Kylon glimpsed the water wheel of a mill, and he saw the distant figures of men guarding the town’s gate.

  “Kylon,” said Caina, gazing at Kostiv. “I think you should dismiss your valikon.” She held out the sword belt holding the jeweled saber they had taken from the ardivid. “Wear this instead. It would look odd if you approached the gate unarmed.”

  “Why?” He took the sword belt and wound it around his waist, the weight of the jeweled weapon tugging at his left hip. “If there are mavrokhi in the town, we’ll need the valikon.”

  “We will,” said Caina, “but I would wager all the mavrokhi went right to Boyar Razdan’s castle to tell him what happened. I don’t think there will be any inside Kostiv, at least not yet. Besides, we might need to persuade some of the townspeople to our side, and it will be hard to do that if we’re holding burning swords of ghostsilver.” She paused. “Unless we need to persuade them by holding burning swords of ghostsilver.”