“This way,” said Sophia, and she led them through the narrow back alleyways of Kostiv, avoiding the work on the main street until they walked past the White Boar’s yard and into the square. Seb was there, talking with Brother Valexis, and at last the old priest nodded and shuffled off towards the main street.
“Lady Caina, Lord Kylon,” said Seb. “All the sunstones are in position.”
Caina nodded. “And the volunteers?”
“In place,” said Seb. He turned a wary eye toward the mill, and then looked back at her. “Mostly acolytes from the Temple, and those with family chosen for the Hunt. I think they were the only ones brave enough to stand behind the windows.”
Caina looked north along the main street and saw the glint of metal. “I think that will have to be enough.”
Seb nodded. “The boyar will almost certainly attack tonight.”
“Yes,” said Caina.
“You present too much of a challenge to his authority,” said Seb. “In a normal man with the character of Razdan Nagrach, that would be a danger. But if you’re right and his mavrokh has twisted his mind, if he is thinking like a predator, then he would find the risk intolerable. The strongest male of a wolf pack responds to a challenger in only one way.”
Caina nodded and drew a finger across her throat. “He will speak in the only language that someone like him truly understands.”
“But it is a tongue in which he is most fluent,” said Sophia in a small voice.
“Sophia,” said Caina. “Go to the White Boar’s common room and have dinner. I’ll join you shortly.” She looked at the sky again. “It might be the last chance we have to eat for a while.”
Sophia nodded and trotted off to the inn.
“You are gambling with her life, you know,” said Seb.
“Yes,” said Caina. “But her life was already lost. The boyar would have killed her and the six others in that wretched Hunt of his. Maybe this way we can win those lives back.”
“And you’re gambling with our lives and the lives of everyone in Kostiv,” said Seb.
Caina frowned. “If you want to leave, this is an excellent time to head south. I don’t have any right to command you. Whatever happens tonight, Razdan Nagrach will be too busy to care what happens to you.”
“No,” said Seb. “I will not leave until this is finished. Besides, you have a much better chance of success with my help.” He shrugged. “And in a way, I am still doing my duty to the Magisterium and the Empire. The Boyar of Kostiv supports the Voivode of Vagraastrad, who in turn supports the Umbarian Order. So, anything I do to harm the boyar harms the Umbarian Order.”
“Perfectly logical,” said Caina. “I’m glad you see it that way.”
Seb grinned, and then his mirth faded. “But this is indeed a colossal roll of the dice, and the coins upon the table are the lives of the town.”
“Yes.” Caina stared at the town, at the people she had set to their tasks. “I know that. If we fail, we’ll be killed. And then Razdan Nagrach will take revenge on the town for helping us. He’ll probably kill Valexis and Ivan and Magur’s family. I expect he would have the Boyar’s Hunt right away, maybe with twice as many women.”
Seb nodded. “At least you understand the stakes.”
“I wouldn’t have expected a magus of the Magisterium to care so much about innocent life,” said Caina, growing irritated with his questions.
“That is fair.” Seb shrugged. “But neither would I have expected a Ghost nightfighter to care so much. The Ghosts are known to be ruthless to those who get in their way. And I should point out that I never actually wanted to be a magus.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Caina. “You wanted to be a valikarion.”
“Did you?”
Caina blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you want to be a valikarion when you were a child?”
Caina sighed. “If you must know, when I was a child what I wanted most was to be a mother. I wanted as many children as I could have.” She shrugged. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“No,” said Seb. “How long have you been a valikarion?”
It took a moment for Caina to sort through the time in her head. The last two and a half years of her life had been both eventful and chaotic. “About six months.”
“Really?” said Seb. “Only six months?”
“Is that a surprise?”
Seb rolled his shoulders, his black armor creaking. “Is it.”
“Why?”
“Because.” He thought for a moment, the blue eyes distant. “Because you are acting the way the valikarion did in the old tales. A lost girl who needs your help, a town terrorized by a cruel demon-possessed boyar…by the gods of the Empire. You even won the townsmen to your side with a rousing speech.”
The comparison annoyed Caina. “But this isn’t a tale, and this isn’t a gamble with lives or a game or any other clever comparison you can think up. This is life and death. We either win, or we die.”
Seb nodded. “I just wanted to make sure that you understood that.”
To her surprise, Kylon laughed.
“What?” said Caina.
“I know what troubles him,” said Kylon. “He’s worried that you became a valikarion recently and that your head is filled with legends of glory and renown.” His eyes shifted to Seb. “If it makes you feel better, Caina has done this kind of thing for as long as I have known her.”
“What do you mean?” said Seb.
“When we met,” said Kylon, “she went out of her way to free the slaves Rezir Shahan took in Marsis. Later she defeated a Great Necromancer of ancient Maat and the Moroaica herself. And that was long before she became a valikarion. She has always done this kind of thing. Now she just does it as a valikarion.”
“So she was acting like a valikarion before she even became a valikarion?” said Seb.
“More or less,” said Kylon.
Caina shook her head. She was to have been a Ghost nightfighter and then a Ghost circlemaster, one of the eyes and ears of the Emperor of Nighmar. Spies were supposed to be discreet. But after New Kyre and Istarinmul and Iramis, she had started to become famous, much to her annoyance.
Seb snorted. “After facing the Moroaica and the Great Necromancers of legend, a pack of mavrokhi must seem like a minor threat.”
“Do you think so?” Caina looked again at the sky. “The Moroaica and the Great Necromancers never threatened to eat me alive.” She looked back at Seb. “I’m going to go change. Have Vasily and Kiril keep watch over the northern gate. If the boyar arrives, they’re not to fight him or challenge him or to speak with him. They are to run.”
“I’ll tell them,” said Seb. He hesitated. “And one way or another, I will see this through with you to the end. I just hope we know what we are doing.”
“As do I,” said Caina. “It seems we are about to find out.”
Seb nodded and headed towards the northern gate.
“I think I will keep watch as well,” said Kylon. “If the boyar and his Hounds try to approach with stealth, I’ll be able to sense them.”
Caina nodded. “If they do show up, withdraw from the wall at once with Seb.”
“Fighting them on the wall would be suicide, anyway,” said Kylon. “I suspect they’ll be able to jump over the walls anyway. Best to shape the battlefield to our advantage.”
“Which is the whole point of this, anyway.” Caina sighed. “Kylon, I’m a spy. Or, at least, I was supposed to be. How do I keep finding myself in all these damned battles?”
“Bad luck, I suppose.” He smiled and kissed her. “Or you were acting as a valikarion even before you heard the word, and valikarion find themselves in battles.”
“Maybe,” said Caina. “Maybe. Do you want some food? I can have Rachov set out something for you.”
“No,” said Kylon. “It’s better to fight on an empty stomach.”
Caina nodded. “I’ll go change. If anything happens, come get
me at once.”
Kylon nodded, kissed her once more, and then headed for the northern gate.
Caina watched him go, uneasiness churning within her. Kylon could talk about the Moroaica and Rhames all he liked. Caina could make a fine speech to Sophia about all the enemies she had defeated.
But those enemies were dead and gone. Right here, right now, all that mattered was what Caina could do against Razdan Nagrach and the Hounds of the Iron King.
And Seb was right. She was gambling with her life and the lives of many other people. She knew her plan was sound…but she knew a thousand things could go wrong. Caina had made a lot of mistakes in her life, but believing in her own legend had never been one of them. People could talk all they wanted about the Balarigar and the Liberator of Iramis, but she knew that beneath all those fine words was a frightened woman of flesh and blood, a woman who had made serious mistakes and who wished she was still in Iramis with her husband.
Caina let out a long breath, calming herself, and glanced at the glint of metal on her left wrist. Her pyrikon rested there, having returned to its bracelet form, and she remembered the day she had found it. Or, to be more precise, the day that it had chosen her. That had been a desperate day as well, but she and Kylon had prevailed.
Caina was a woman of flesh and blood, a woman who had made mistakes…but she was also a woman with a pyrikon, a valikon, and a plan.
Her eyes turned back to the sky. Less than an hour until dark, and the huge wall of the approaching snowstorm filled the sky to the south.
It was time to get ready.
Caina returned to the White Boar, making for the room she had shared with Kylon last night.
###
It took less time to prepare for battle than it had for her meeting with Razdan Nagrach. But this time Caina didn't intend to impress or intimidate the boyar.
She only wanted to kill him. She didn’t need to look nearly as nice for that.
Ivan had a leather jacket that fit her, made for a smallish man about her size who had been killed hunting before he could pay for it, though it hung to her knees. That was just as well since the jacket was fitted with thin steel plates to deflect knife blades, and Caina supposed it would at least slow the claws and fangs of the mavrokhi. Beneath the jacket, she wore a padded gambeson, and over the jacket she donned the red coat she had taken from Sigilsoara, buttoning it to her throat. Trousers went on her legs, and heavy boots on her feet, and around her waist went a belt holding the dagger she had taken from Varlov’s corpse and a second from the ardivid.
Caina looked at the room’s small mirror and winced. The red coat would stand out in the night like a candle flame, and she wished for a Ghost shadow-cloak. That said, the red coat would work for what she planned. She wanted Razdan to be able to see her. She wanted the red coat to taunt him.
Of course, the boyar was capable of answering her taunts with deadly force.
Caina let out a long breath and froze.
She felt the faint prickle of arcane power against her skin. Once more she turned, seeking with the vision of the valikarion, and she saw a faint gray aura, the aura of a powerful warding and concealment spell.
The last time Caina had seen that spell had been in the moments before Rudjak and his men had pursued them to the Sanctuary Stone.
She nodded to herself, crossed to the connecting door to the dining room, and opened it.
And as she expected, the Bronze Witch stood by the window, her withered face in shadow.
She stood with a slight hunch, grasping her bronze staff in both hands as if she needed its support, though Caina noted that the Witch’s weight was on her feet in their dusty leather boots. As before, the Witch wore a thick brown dress and a long gray cloak, her face still concealed by the cowl.
“Dear girl,” said the Bronze Witch. This time she spoke in High Nighmarian, though her Ulkaari accent remained thick as ever. Between that and her rasping croak of a voice, her words were nearly incomprehensible. “Look at you. An Arvaltyr going into battle against the servants of the Iron King. That is a sight that no one in Ulkaar has seen for a very long time.”
Caina stared at the ancient sorceress, considering her next words.
“Thank you for the warning on the road,” she said at last, also speaking High Nighmarian. “If Rudjak and the other Hounds caught us there, we would have been finished.”
“Such manners!” crooned the Witch. The bronze teeth glinted behind her withered lips. “Rare in the young today. I approve. Well, you are the first valikarion to be seen in Ulkaar since Iramis burned. It would be disappointing if you were slain on the road.” Her head tilted, as if looking towards Caina’s pocket. “And it would be downright alarming if the ring you carried fell into the hands of Razdan Nagrach.”
“And what ring is that?” said Caina, not wanting to give away any information.
“Why, dear girl,” said the Witch. “The ring you were forced to take from Sigilsoara. The Ring that once graced the bloody, tyrannical hand of Rasarion Yagar himself. The Ring, incidentally, into which he secured a portion of his powers.”
“I see,” said Caina. “The Temnoti want it back, I imagine?”
“And the Umbarians wish it for themselves,” said the Witch. “As you might expect, neither the Temnoti nor the Umbarians should have it.”
“Who should?” said Caina. “You?”
“No one should wield the Ring of Rasarion Yagar,” said the Witch. “What do you intend to do with it?”
“I am going to take it with me back to Iramis,” said Caina. “The loremasters of Iramis will secure it within the Towers of Lore. It can’t hurt anyone there.”
“A good place for it,” said the Bronze Witch. “There are too many old sorcerous relics loose in the world.”
“Believe me, I won’t argue.”
“The loremasters of old Iramis gathered many such things and kept them safe in the vaults below the Towers of Lore,” said the Witch. “If you take the Ring of the Iron King there, I shall be content.”
“Then you are a loremaster?” said Caina. “You seem familiar with the vaults below the Towers.”
“Why, dear girl,” said the Witch with a raspy chuckle. “Who do you think I am? I am the Bronze Witch of Ulkaar. I have been for centuries.”
“Maybe,” said Caina. “But I think you might have been a loremaster once upon a time.”
The Bronze Witch said nothing.
“Because the spells you use, I can see the Words of Lore in them. I know what a loremaster’s spells look like,” said Caina. “You’re wrapped up in a warding spell like a cloak, probably to keep the Temnoti from locating you through sorcery, but some of the aura leaks out. And that staff you carry. Sometimes I glimpse the aura through your warding spell. I’m not at all sure…but I think that staff might be a pyrikon.”
She stepped closer, and the Witch took a sudden step back.
“Ah,” said Caina. “That’s almost as good as an answer.”
“For a young woman,” said the Witch, “you are dangerously cunning.”
“People keep telling me that,” said Caina. “Though I wonder if you are as old as you appear. There are tricks of makeup and posture and clothing that a clever woman can use to make herself look older or younger. I wonder if you know a few of them. Maybe if you stood in the rain long enough, you might look twenty or thirty years younger when the makeup washed away.”
The Bronze Witch said nothing.
“Are you a loremaster?” said Caina. “One that has been here for centuries? Or is the staff an office passed from bearer to bearer?”
“Who I am is unimportant,” said the Witch. “What is important is what you must do tonight. Because you face a very dangerous foe, do you not? The boyar is coming for you, you specifically, and he brings fifteen of his Hounds with him.”
“Then we will face sixteen mavrokhi?” said Caina.
“That is correct, girl,” said the Witch. “I have seen your preparations and divined your plan.
It is good. But do not underestimate the boyar. He is the equal of one of the great and terrible Hounds who fought alongside the Iron King himself in ancient days. Razdan Nagrach is cruel, but he is wise enough to lay aside his lust for cruelty and torment when his life is in danger…which it shall be so long as you and your husband and your half-brother yet live.”
“Did you come here to tell me things I already know?” said Caina. Just as well Kylon was not within earshot. He detested oracles and seers, and listening to the Witch’s vague warning might make him lose his temper.
“There is one thing you must understand about the boyar,” said the Witch. “One thing you must understand about the mavrokhi. The leader of a pack of Hounds cannot look weak, not for any reason. If he looks weak and fearful, if he is wounded and they smell his weakness, they will turn on him. It is the law of bloody nature. The mavrokhi spirits fill the minds of the Hounds with violence and gives them the instincts of wolves. Wolves follow only the strongest, and he dares not turn back.”
Caina frowned. “Are you saying that if I wound Razdan, the other mavrokhi would turn on him?”
“Eventually,” said the Witch, “but not in enough time to save you. No, dear girl, reflect on this. Razdan Nagrach knows everything I have told you. He cannot look weak or hesitant in front of his pack brothers. Perhaps you can use that against him.”
Caina opened her mouth to answer, and she heard voices from the market below. She glanced towards the window and saw that the sun had set, that men were running and shouting in the market.
Her skin crawled with arcane power, and she turned to see that the Witch had departed once more.
“Useful trick,” Caina muttered.
Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1) Page 26
