Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1)

by Jonathan Moeller

  “All right,” said Caina, her voice soft. “This, then, is my offer. You will let us depart. I will take Sophia with me, and the six other women you have chosen for the Hunt. In exchange, I will never return.”

  “No,” said Razdan. “The people are Kostiv are mine to do with as I please. I will not suffer anyone to interfere with what is mine. And certainly I will not tolerate interference from a haughty Nighmarian whore and her Kyracian lover.”

  “It seems I was wrong, then,” said Caina.

  “About what?” said Razdan.

  “You,” said Caina. “There isn’t a better reason for the Hunt. You really are just a stupid and cruel man.”

  The rage thundered through Razdan this time, and he shoved to his feet and kicked away his chair. He stalked around the table, and to his surprise, Caina rose as well and walked towards him. Razdan realized that he was losing control, that he could feel his teeth changing to fangs and claws sprouting from his fingers. No doubt his eyes were changing color as well.

  But Caina did not flinch from him, the fingers of her right hand flexing.

  They stood two yards apart, staring at each other.

  “Is this it?” whispered Caina. She grinned at him. By Temnuzash, the woman had to be insane. “Are we going to flip that coin, Razdan Nagrach? Right here, right now, are we going to flip the coin and see which one of us lives and which one of us dies?”

  He almost did it. He almost lifted his hand to rip out her damned throat, but his rational mind stopped him. She was right, at least about this. He could kill her…but if he did, he might not leave the White Boar alive.

  He would give her one last chance.

  “This is not your country. These are not your people. You have no business here.” Razdan leaned closer, forcing back the fury of his mavrokh. “Go home with your lives while I still permit it, and never return.”

  Caina stared at him without blinking. Maybe those damned eyes were the color of steel. Well, if she defied him, he looked forward to seeing those eyes fill with terror.

  “You’re right,” Caina said. “This is not my country, and these are not my people. But I promise you one thing. I give you one warning. If you come for Sophia Zomanek, I shall give to you what I do best.”

  Razdan sneered. “And what is that?”

  Caina smiled. “Ruin.”

  The word hung in the air between them like a sword.

  “Then you shall have your will, Caina Amalas Tarshahzon Kardamnos,” said Razdan, spitting each of her names like a curse. “Your cup will overflow with ruin before I am finished, and you will think back on this moment and curse your folly.”

  He did not wait for her answer, but turned and strode from the dining room without looking back. Razdan descended the stairs, shoved past Kylon and Sebastian, and gestured to Rudjak. The szlachts followed him into the square, and Razdan strode to where Magur and Valexis waited with the horses.

  “My lord,” said Magur. “I…”

  Razdan shoved him aside, and the burgomaster fell to the ground. “Get out of my way, you old fool.”

  He swung into the saddle and rode from the square, his szlachts following him.

  “My lord?” said Rudjak. “What are your wishes?”

  “We are returning to the castle,” said Razdan. “We will gather all of us, all our pack brothers, all of us who have become Hounds of the Iron King. Then we shall return, and we will teach this foreign whore what it means to challenge the Hounds.”

  Balmin laughed in delight, and a few of the other szlachts cheered. Razdan did not. He was too angry.

  Yes, he would return with his pack brothers, and he would tear a path of blood and slaughter through Kostiv. He would show his power to the imbecilic peasants of Kostiv, and he would kill Kylon of House Kardamnos and Sebastian Scorneus with his own claws.

  He would show Caina what fear was really like. The rumors said the Balarigar had bested all manner of foes, but he would show her what it meant to face a Hound of the Iron King.

  Perhaps he could decide what color her eyes really were once she was dead.

  ###

  Caina let out a long breath as she stepped onto the balcony, her heart racing.

  She had been certain, absolutely certain, that she had pushed the boyar too far, that he would transform all the way and kill her. The process had begun. Fangs had grown in his mouth, and claws sprouted from his fingers, his eyes turning a poisonous shade of yellow.

  She had been ready to call her valikon and plunge it into his chest. Perhaps she would be able to kill him before he killed her.

  But at the last minute, Razdan had stopped himself. Caution overrode his fury, and he had left with his szlachts.

  But he would be back.

  She knew he would be back…and more of his men would be with him.

  Caina looked down at Kylon and Seb.

  “I take it,” said Seb, “that the meeting did not go well?”

  “We had better get Magur and Valexis and Ivan,” said Caina. She took one more deep breath. “I think we’re going to have to plan a battle.”

  ###

  Razdan Nagrach rode into the forest, following the road to his castle, the rage boiling within him. He pushed it aside and focused on planning. Sixteen Hounds of the Iron King could destroy a small army. They would prove more than enough to deal with Caina and her few allies. Kylon and Sebastian would be dangerous, but they would be alone. The townsmen would be too frightened and fearful of the boyar’s vengeance to help her. Razdan would lose a few of his szlachts, but they could be replaced at…

  Something cold and dark washed against the senses of his mavrokh.

  The others felt it as well and reined up as Razdan did.

  He looked to the forest ahead and saw a brown-robed figure step from the trees, hands tucked into voluminous sleeves, head bowed beneath a heavy cowl. The robe looked greasy as if it covered something damp and slimy, and the stench of decay and mutated flesh filled Razdan’s nostrils.

  He knew that figure.

  “Wait here,” said Razdan.

  The szlachts were only too happy to comply.

  Razdan took a deep breath, swung from the saddle, and walked towards the robed figure.

  “Honored Syvashar,” said Razdan with a bow.

  The Syvashar, the High Priest of the Temnoti, lifted his head and looked at Razdan.

  Razdan was proud that he did not flinch. The Temnoti had been promised immortality, and they had received it after a fashion. The Syvashar’s face was distorted, a third eye bugling in his gray, pallid forehead, his mouth twisted by jagged pincers. Razdan also knew that the Syvashar’s left arm had been replaced by a slime-coated tentacle, and he could glimpse the ends of tentacles occasionally darting beneath the hem of the brown robe.

  The smell was hideous.

  The enhanced senses granted by his mavrokh had occasional drawbacks.

  “Boyar Razdan,” said the Syvashar, his voice thick and wet and deep. The ancient sorcerer shuddered, all three of his eyes staring at Razdan. “You face an outlander enemy.”

  “I will destroy her utterly,” said Razdan. “I am a Hound of the Iron King, a follower of the Great Master Temnuzash, and a true son of Ulkaar. I will show the bitch the price she must pay for meddling in our affairs.”

  “Mmm.” The Syvashar was silent for a moment. “Be wary. She is a valikarion, an Arvaltyr. In other lands, they name her Balarigar and Liberator.”

  “Legends,” sneered Razdan.

  “No,” said the Syvashar. “Not this time. She is dangerous. It is foretold that the Iron King shall rise again, and inaugurate the era of Temnuzash.”

  “It shall be a glorious day,” said Syvashar.

  “But a foreseeing is a two-edged sword, Hound of the Iron King,” rasped the Syvashar. “Not all destinies are foreordained. For while the Iron King shall return, the Warmaiden may yet return as well to oppose us…and if she does, the valikarion woman shall be the one to bring her to the waking world.”r />
  “What?” said Razdan, alarmed. “That is not possible.”

  “The priests of the Great Master have performed their divinations,” said the Syvashar. “Such are the potentialities of the future. This is your great test, Razdan Nagrach. Slay the Balarigar, and you shall be the greatest of the Hounds, and you will stand at the Iron King’s right hand as he conquers the world. Fail, and you shall perish.”

  “I shall not fail,” said Razdan. “I will be victorious.”

  “Perhaps,” said the Syvashar. “When you triumph, upon the body of the valikarion woman you shall find an iron ring adorned with the seal of Rasarion Yagar. Kill her and bring this ring to me. Bring me the iron ring, and you shall have a province of your own to rule when the Iron King breaks the Empire.”

  “It shall be done, honored Syvashar,” said Razdan.

  The Syvashar had vanished before Razdan finished speaking, disappearing from both sight and the senses of Razdan’s mavrokh. The High Priest of the Temnoti came and went as he pleased, and he had disappeared just as quickly after he had inducted Razdan and his szlachts into the way of the Hounds.

  Razdan smiled and walked back to his horse.

  “My lord?” said Rudjak. “What did the honored Syvashar want?”

  “I acted wisely, Rudjak,” said Razdan, swinging back into his saddle. “Killing the woman at the White Boar would have been too risky. She has made herself an enemy of the priests of Temnuzash, and the Temnoti will reward us well once we bring her head to them.” He grinned at his pack brothers. “Once we’ve had our fun with her, of course.”

  Balmin cheered, and this time the others followed suit.

  Razdan rode for his castle, planning the death of Caina.

  Chapter 16: Win Or Die

  “Come along, girl,” said Ivan Zomanek, peering through the door at the common room. “Looks like the boyar has left in a huff.” The old blacksmith grimaced. “Guess there’s going to be trouble.”

  Sophia nodded, fighting back the dread. She had been certain, utterly certain, that the boyar would see her and take her back with him to the dungeons of Castle Nagrach. When that hadn’t happened, she had been certain that the boyar would kill Caina, that the szlachts would transform and kill Kylon and Seb as well.

  Instead, the boyar had departed in a rage, and Caina had emerged from the dining room.

  Sophia still felt dread, but now there was more bewilderment. Why hadn’t the boyar killed them? The only possible reason was that he had gone back to the castle for more men. But why go back to the castle? Surely seven mavrokhi could destroy any foe.

  Perhaps he had gone back to the castle because he was frightened of Caina.

  Sophia still felt fear and bewilderment, but mixed with them was a growing flicker of hope.

  The boyar was afraid of Caina and Kylon and Seb.

  Sophia hadn’t thought that Razdan Nagrach feared anything in the world. She had thought him and the mavrokhi invincible. Then Kylon had cut down Varlov at the Sanctuary Stone…and Sophia had started to feel the first stirrings of hope. Maybe the boyar wasn’t invincible. Maybe Caina could save Sophia and the rest of Kostiv from this nightmare.

  Or maybe they were all about to die in agony.

  Sophia followed her uncle onto the balcony. Caina had descended to the common room and stood talking with Kylon. Seb walked through the door and into the market, no doubt to summon Magur and Brother Valexis. Sophia sensed nothing of Caina’s emotions, but she felt some of Kylon’s, and she sensed his growing grim determination.

  It seemed that Lord Kylon agreed with her uncle. A battle was coming.

  “How did your parley with the boyar go?” said Ivan, limping down the stairs.

  Caina sighed. “We’re not dead yet. I’ll give you the full story when the others arrive.” She looked at Sophia. “How are you?”

  “I’m…I’m fine,” said Sophia, which she supposed was still true. “Confronting the boyar like that, my lady…I don’t think anyone has ever done that. That was very brave.”

  “Or foolish,” said Caina. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

  The door swung open with a blast of cold air, and Seb returned with the burgomaster and Brother Valexis.

  “Did he leave?” said Kylon to the burgomaster.

  Magur swallowed and nodded. “He…he did, Lord Kylon. The boyar left without another word.”

  “He rode off in the direction of the castle,” said Valexis. “Lady Caina, I fear he has gone to retrieve the rest of his szlachts, and he will return to kill you.”

  “Most likely,” said Caina, frowning as she looked off into the distance. “Probably he will gather every single mavrokh among his men and come back to Kostiv. About sixteen total, I think.”

  “Sixteen,” said Sophia, shuddering at the thought. One Hound of the Iron King was dangerous. But sixteen of them at once? Sixteen would be a nightmare beyond imagining.

  No one could fight sixteen mavrokhi at once and live.

  Sophia looked around the common room and swallowed. She knew everyone here, had grown up around them. Sophia had met Caina and Kylon and Seb only a few days ago, but they had saved her life at Sigilsoara, and again when the ardivid found them and once more when Rudjak hunted her down.

  Now they were very likely all going to die.

  And it was Sophia’s fault. Perhaps if she hadn’t run, if she had just accepted her fate and gone to her death, then none of this would have happened.

  “We’re doomed, aren’t we?” said Magur, sagging. “When the boyar comes in wrath with his mavrokhi, after they kill Lady Caina they’ll run amok through the town. Dozens of people will die. Maybe hundreds.”

  Ivan scowled. “Don’t be so lily-livered, Magur. We ought to fight. We should have fought a long time ago!”

  “Easy for you to say!” snapped Magur. “It is not your daughters who are going to the Boyar’s Hunt.”

  “It is my niece,” said Ivan. “I promised my brother I would look after her if anything happened to him. How shall I face his shade knowing that I surrendered her to the wolves without fighting?”

  “It doesn’t matter if you fight or not, we shall still lose my daughters and your niece,” said Magur. “All we can do is hope to save whatever we can save from the boyar.”

  “And the next year?” growled Ivan, his face darkening. Sophia hoped he kept himself under control. His heart was bad, and Brother Valexis’s healing prayers could only go so far. “And the year after that? And that? Will we have to sacrifice seven women to that monster every year?”

  “And what else can we do?” said Magur, stepping forward and pointing at Ivan. The old burgomaster was shaking with rage and sorrow. “If we…”

  “Enough!”

  Kylon’s voice cut through the shouting, and everyone fell silent and stared at him. For a man who did not talk all that much, he could be loud when he wanted.

  “What happened with the boyar?” he said to Caina.

  “He made me an offer,” said Caina, speaking to Kylon, but her gaze swept over the others. “The boyar offered to let me, Lord Kylon, and Lord Sebastian depart from his lands without any interference, on the condition that we never returned.”

  “Why would he do that?” said Valexis, his voice quavering a little. “The boyar is not a man inclined to mercy.”

  “Is it not obvious, Brother?” said Seb, stepping forward. “Razdan Nagrach is afraid of the valikons. He knows that Lady Caina is a valikarion. He doesn’t want to face those valikons because he knows that in the right hands those swords could kill him. All the savagery and fury of his mavrokh spirit would avail him nothing. The valikon would destroy his mavrokh and end his life.”

  “I made Nagrach a counteroffer,” said Caina. “I said we would leave Kostiv, but only if we could take Sophia and the other six women with us.” Sophia blinked, grateful. “The boyar refused. We then exchanged a few insults, and he left in a rage to summon the rest of his Hounds.” Her mouth twisted. “Or his ‘pack brot
hers’, as he called them. As if they were real wolves and not simply evil men.”

  “Then he will return?” said Magur.

  “Oh, yes,” said Caina. “He’ll kill me and Kylon and Sebastian, and anyone who gets in his way or annoys him. He’ll also take Sophia and the others, and he’ll probably kill some townsmen just to make the point that he can do whatever he wants.”

  Magur sighed. “Then we are all dead.”

  Ivan scowled and pointed at the burgomaster. “And you would have us submit to this…this tyranny? The boyar’s father was a hard man and had no mercy in him, but he knew the law and respected its boundaries. Razdan Nagrach cares nothing for law and custom, and does whatever pleases him.”

  “And our deaths will please him,” said Magur, “and that…”

  Ivan, Valexis, Magur, and Seb all started trying to talk at once.

  “It is my fault!” shouted Sophia.

  They all stared at her, astonished.

  “It is my fault,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have run. I should have just waited for the Hunt and…and accepted it. If I hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have met Lady Caina. If I hadn’t met her, Lord Kylon wouldn’t have killed Varlov, and the boyar wouldn’t be coming to kill us all.”

  “Child,” said Magur, his voice weary, “this is not your fault.”

  “No,” growled Ivan. “It’s the damned boyar’s fault, for his pride and cruelty.”

  “I’ll run,” said Sophia, trying to pull herself together. “I’ll run into the forest like I did before. The boyar and his men will hunt for me, and…and…” She tried not to think about what would happen then. “And while I do that, Lady Caina and the others can leave Kostiv and go to Vagraastrad. The boyar won’t chase them if they leave, not if he’s scared of them, and once he has me, maybe the boyar will show mercy to Kostiv.”

  No one said anything for a while.

  “A noble gesture,” said Ivan. “A very noble sacrifice.” He tried to smile. “But it wouldn’t matter. The boyar would still take his revenge upon Kostiv, and the Boyar’s Hunt would continue. And if the Countess and her companions fled into the wilderness, they would be at the mercy of the mavrokhi or maybe the other horrors that haunt the forests of Ulkaar.”