"No one leaves the Ghosts," said Caina.
"Of course not," said Theodosia, "but no one remains a nightfighter forever. You'll be a circlemaster one day, I'm sure of it. Perhaps even under your own name. The Countess Caina Amalas, come to reclaim her father's name and title after his murder at the hands of Istarish slavers all those years ago. Think of the sensation you would make at the capital's balls!" She shrugged. "And you needn’t be alone, not unless you wished it."
"I cannot wed," said Caina.
"Why not?" said Theodosia. "Not every man needs or desires children. And if you are lonely...well, you are young, clever, and pretty, if you understand me."
Caina laughed. "Is that your solution? Find someone to warm my bed?"
"It certainly couldn't hurt your mood," said Theodosia. "Caina, I shall be blunt. You've lived on vengeance, and vengeance alone, for a long time. You swore to keep others from suffering as you did, and you kept that vow - look at Malarae or Rasadda. But you can't live for vengeance forever. Eventually you get tired of killing. You have to find something else you can live for. Love, perhaps."
"Love?" said Caina. "Is that what you live for?"
Theodosia smiled. "Of course. Once we return to Malarae, I intend to find proper wives for my sons. Tomard is a senior centurion in the Civic Militia, and it's well past time he was wed. And I want grandchildren to spoil."
"You have your sons," said Caina.
"I know," said Theodosia. "And you will find something of your own." She paused. "Did I ever tell you why I joined the Ghosts?"
"No," said Caina.
"My husband was murdered," said Theodosia, her smile fading. "You may think me a talkative fool of an old woman, but everything I've told you, I learned it the hard way."
"Theodosia," said Caina. She hugged the older woman. "I've never thought you were a fool."
Theodosia laughed. "Merely talkative and old, hmm? Ah, the poisoned compliments of youth!"
"Thank you," said Caina.
Theodosia patted her cheek. "You're welcome, dear. And if you ever get tired of spying for the Emperor, come with me to the Grand Imperial Opera. You were the best assistant I ever had. I'll find you a husband, never fear, and..."
"...we'll spy on the nobles for the Emperor," said Caina.
"Quite right," said Theodosia. "Think you can sleep now?"
"No," said Caina. "But I do feel better. I'm going to go for a walk around the Inn to clear my head."
"And to check for assassins?" said Theodosia.
Caina nodded. "That Kindred assassin saw me twice. Which means the Kindred know there are Ghosts among the opera company. They went after Marzhod, but they might try to come after us." And Caina suspected the assassin she had thwarted twice had a personal grudge against her. "They'll scout the Inn of the Defender before they make any moves. If I'm fortunate, I might be able to capture one of their scouts. Or at least drive them off."
"Do be careful," said Theodosia.
"I'm always careful," said Caina.
She got dressed and left. She wore her blue dress, knives hidden beneath her sleeves, and a ragged brown cloak with a deep hood. From a distance, she looked like any other traveler on night business. Caina slipped through the Inn's darkened kitchen and through the backdoor. The nights of Cyrioch, much like the days, were hot and humid. Soon droplets of sweat trickled down Caina's face. She found herself looking forward to the bath in Theodosia's suite as she circled around the Inn's courtyard...
She stopped.
A cloaked figure stood before the courtyard gate, watching her.
Caina reached for her belt, and the cloaked figure lifted both hands in a gesture of peace. The right hand came up and drew back the hood.
She found herself looking at Corvalis Aberon’s hard face and pale green eyes.
"I thought," said Corvalis, "that I might find you here."
"You survived," said Caina. "Did you kill Sicarion?"
Corvalis scowled. "Unfortunately, no. I wounded him severely, but before I could finish it, he hit me with a spell. He escaped before I recovered. I only hope he bled to death in an alley."
"Doubtful," said Caina. "He'll steal new parts to replace anything you lopped off."
Corvalis blinked. "I see that you have dealt with him before."
"I have," said Caina. "What do you want?"
"I owe you a debt," said Corvalis, "and I repay my debts."
"Debt?" said Caina. "What debt?"
"You saved my life," said Corvalis.
"I fail to see how," said Caina.
"Sicarion would have killed me," said Corvalis, "had you not interrupted me."
"Are you sure of that?" said Caina. "He was there for someone else."
She recalled her dreams. The Moroaica had ordered Sicarion to kill her wayward disciple.
Whoever that was.
"He was," said Corvalis, "but he hates me." A tight smile flashed over his face. "I defeated him once, years ago, and he will go out of his way to kill me. Had you not distracted me, had you not been with me, he would have ambushed me with four men. Not even I could have survived that."
"So you think you owe me a debt," said Caina.
"I do owe you a debt," said Corvalis, "and I repay my debts."
Caina thought this over.
"Fine," she said. "How do you intend to repay it?"
"The Kindred hunt Lord Corbould," said Corvalis. "And you’re overmatched."
"We've kept Corbould alive so far," said Caina.
"So far," said Corvalis. "How much longer can you manage it? You are formidable, especially for a woman..."
"How flattering," said Caina.
"But you're overmatched," said Corvalis. "The Kindred will keep coming until Corbould is dead."
"I think they want to kill Khosrau, too," said Caina.
"Then your task is twice as hard," said Corvalis. "You need help."
"Which, I assume, is how you intend to repay this debt," said Caina.
"Yes," said Corvalis. "They’re going to kill Corbould tomorrow, at the Ring of Valor. Lord Khosrau is throwing gladiatorial games in Corbould's honor. It is the perfect opportunity to kill Corbould."
"It would be," said Caina. It matched with what Theodosia had already told her. But anyone with contacts in the Palace of Splendors would know as much.
"They will send two assassins this time," said Corvalis, "since a single assassin failed twice. First, another man with a blowgun. Probably disguised as a common spectator. Second, a skilled archer, posted on the upper rim of the Ring. If one fails, the other will strike."
That was a bit more specific.
"How do you know this?" said Caina.
Corvalis smirked. "I left the Kindred, but I know how they work. I've been watching them, lest they interfere with my business."
"Foiling another assassination attempt will be helpful," said Caina, "but the Kindred will keep coming. Do you know where their Haven is? If we strike at their lair, we can stop them."
Corvalis shook his head. "I don't know where the Cyrioch Haven is. I was a member of the Artifel family, and only the Kindred Elders know the locations of all the Havens."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" said Caina.
Corvalis scowled. "I warned you about the assassin at the Amphitheatre of Asurius, did I not? I pointed out the assassins in the Gallery. And I helped you against Sicarion."
"Sicarion was trying to kill you anyway," said Caina.
"True," said Corvalis. "But what more can I do to...ah." He sighed. "Sicarion told you my name. Corvalis Aberon."
"Corvalis Aberon," said Caina. "The First Magus of the Magisterium, the mortal enemy of the Ghosts, is Decius Aberon."
"I thought the Ghosts were only a myth," said Corvalis.
"That's an evasion," said Caina.
"True," said Corvalis. "One cannot fool the Ghosts. If you must know, the First Magus is my father."
"Your father?" said Caina. "And is your business a task from the Fi
rst Magus?"
"No," said Corvalis, and there was loathing in his cold voice. "Someday, I am going to kill him. I will swear it on whatever god you want. The gods of the Empire, or the sea gods of the Kyracians. Or the Living Flame of the Anshani and the Saddai, or the devils of the underworld. I will swear upon them all. I will kill Decius Aberon and repay him for what he has done..."
Corvalis stopped talking, as if alarmed that he had said too much.
Caina stared at him. She noted how he held himself, ready to fight at a moment's notice. She had seen him fight against Sicarion. The only way a man learned to fight like that was to train every day from childhood.
Like the Kindred did to their slaves.
"Your father," said Caina, "sold you to the Kindred, didn't he?"
Corvalis's expression did not change, but a muscle twitched near his left eye.
"You understand nothing," said Corvalis.
“Actually, I do,” said Caina. “The First Magus is known for his ruthlessness. Such a man would see his children as raw material, to transform into weapons and tools to use as he sees fit. Some of his children are magi of the Magisterium. But you were born without any arcane talent. Since he couldn’t make a magus out of you, he sold you to the Kindred.”
“How do you know this?” said Corvalis, not bothering to hide his anger. “How long have you been spying on me?”
“You’re surprised?” said Caina. “I am a spy, after all. But, no. I had never seen you before Barius’s pawnshop.”
“Then how do you know this?” said Corvalis. “Who told you?”
“You did,” said Caina. “I’ve had some practice observing people.”
Corvalis stared at her. Caina remembered the first time she had met Ark, how angry he had gotten when she deduced that he had joined the Ghosts to find his wife.
At last Corvalis barked out a short, harsh laugh. “I would say you are a sorceress, but I know better. Yes, it is as you say. I was born to one of my father’s mistresses.” His face was hard. “And the great First Magus has no use for children unable to wield the arcane sciences. So he sold me to the Kindred. Under the terms of the contract, he would receive exclusive use for my services whenever he desired. The Kindred molded me into a killer.”
“And then you left,” said Caina. Why had he left the Kindred? An attack of conscience, perhaps? Something similar had happened to her old teacher Riogan.
“And then I left,” said Corvalis.
“I understand,” said Caina.
Again Corvalis laughed that short, harsh laugh. “I doubt that.”
“My mother was a failed initiate of the Magisterium,” said Caina. “She sold me to a necromancer in exchange for his arcane teachings. It was…not a pleasant experience.” She shrugged. “So I understand better than you think.”
She wondered why she had bothered to tell him.
“How did you escape?” said Corvalis.
“Neither my mother nor the necromancer are still among the living,” said Caina. He could draw what conclusions he would from that.
Corvalis nodded. “And I will kill my father.”
“That’s not why you’re in Cyrioch,” said Caina. “Decius Aberon is in Artifel. You might have come to Cyrioch for some reason to do with him. But you’re not here to kill the First Magus.”
“Very good, Ghost,” said Corvalis. “Have you puzzled why I am here?”
“No,” said Caina. But it had something to do with the statues, she was sure of it. Perhaps Corvalis even knew how Barius and the other Ghosts had been transmuted into stone. “Unless you want to tell me?”
“I do not,” said Corvalis. “Clever as you are, your enemies might capture you. And I will not lose my secrets. Not now, when I am so close.”
“Some of the Ghosts have been turned to stone,” said Caina, watching him for a reaction. “How can we keep it from happening again?”
“Stay away from me,” said Corvalis. “Your fool of a circlemaster thinks I am a threat, so he sent his Ghosts to spy on me. They…got in the way. So long as you ignore me, you will be in no danger.”
Caina gave a slow nod. “Very well. Good luck.”
Corvalis blinked, and then nodded. “And you as well, Ghost. I think you will need it.”
He left without another word.
###
Caina walked into Theodosia’s bedroom.
“Mmm?” said Theodosia, lifting her head. “What is it? I hoped the Kindred would have the courtesy to wait until a decent hour to murder us in our beds.”
“I know,” said Caina, “how we can ambush the Kindred.”
Chapter 12 – The Ring of Valor
The Ring of Valor could have swallowed the Amphitheatre of Asurius whole.
The arena was a huge stone oval, its outer wall standing two hundred feet tall. Ornate statues of gladiators stood in niches along the wall, hundreds of them, brandishing stone spears and swords. Enormous arches led into the Ring, and through those arches Caina heard the roar of the crowds gathered to watch the gladiatorial games. The Amphitheatre of Asurius held ten thousand people, but nearly a hundred thousand could gather in the Ring of Valor to watch enslaved gladiators kill one another.
Caina looked at the streams of people pouring into the Ring’s gates and tried to keep the contempt off her face.
She stood outside of the Ring with Marzhod, Saddiq, and a dozen Sarbian mercenaries. Caina wore her dust-colored robes, a scimitar and dagger hanging on her leather belt makeup giving her face the illusion of stubble. The other Sarbians ignored her. Marzhod had them that she was Saddiq’s cousin, come to find work in Cyrioch.
“A few more,” said Marzhod in Cyrican, “and then we’ll get started.”
Caina shifted. “Why not now?”
“Because,” said Marzhod, “the real betting doesn’t begin until the first matches start. Right now they’re watching animals. Lions fighting bears, that sort of thing. The poor bet on those, but they’re not worth the trouble.” He rubbed his fingers together. “The real money comes when the gladiators come out. Especially if one noble or another owns the gladiators.”
“And Lord Khosrau and Lord Corbould,” said Saddiq, “have not even arrived yet.”
Caina looked north to the sprawling mass of Cyrioch and the white shape of the Stone rising from its heart. The Ring of Valor lay just south of the city’s gates, on the flat plains that made up most of Cyrica. According to Marzhod, the impoverished free citizens of Cyrioch had a tendency to riot during the games, so the Lord Governors had built the Ring outside of the city proper.
“Once the lords arrive,” said Marzhod, “the betting will begin in earnest. You lot,” he waved a bony hand at the mercenaries, “circulate through the nobles and take their bets. You two,” he pointed at Caina and Saddiq, “will carry out a little errand for me.”
That errand was making sure Corbould and Khosrau survived.
And, if all went well, capturing a Kindred assassin alive.
“And you,” said Marzhod, pointing at another group of mercenaries, “watch for anyone else taking bets. If you find anyone else taking wagers, give them a good beating and dump them in the street. No killing – the Lord Governor and the Lord Aedile of Games don’t like bloodshed spoiling their festivities.” He snickered. “Except for the gladiators. But we’re well within our rights to beat anyone else taking bets into a pulp.”
“How did you get the exclusive right to take wagers for the games?” said Caina.
Marzhod smirked. “I asked the Lord Aedile of Games politely, and he gave it to me because I was so charming.”
A guffaw went up from the Sarbian mercenaries, and Caina rolled her eyes.
“How do you think?” said Marzhod. “A very large bribe and a fixed percentage of the take. Of course, I make more than enough to cover it.” He scratched at his unshaven chin. “Especially since I fix a few key matches.”
“Here they come,” said Saddiq.
A procession marched from the city proper.
At its head came Khosrau, Corbould, and Armizid, riding in a ceremonial chariot pulled by eight white horses, a guard of militiamen and black-armored Imperial Guards surrounding them. Caina noted with amusement that Theodosia rode in the chariot, exchanging laughter with Khosrau. Armizid must have been scandalized. After the chariot came the lesser nobles and the magi on foot. Ranarius strode in their midst, tall and forbidding in his black robes, Nicasia walking barefoot after him. Mhadun strolled at the preceptor’s side, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Marzhod grinned. “Time to fleece the sheep.” He gave a sharp nod to Caina. “You know what to do.”
She did.
Saddiq followed as she headed for one of the Ring’s gates. A pair of militiamen stood there, scowling as they waved the crowds through.
"You, Sarbian," said a militiaman, pointing at Caina. "You have a ticket?" When Lord Khosrau held a gladiatorial exhibition, he apparently paid for free tickets, given at random to Cyrioch's poorer citizens. No doubt the tickets helped keep the populace from rioting.
"Aye," said Caina, holding out the paper Marzhod had given her. "Both me and my friend. We're here on business." Marzhod had most of the city militia in his pay, and the paper held his seal.
"Go," said the militiaman. "Don't linger."
Caina nodded and entered the Ring of Valor.
Tiers of stone seats rose far overhead, packed with cheering commoners. Spacious boxes occupied the bottom third of the seats, reserved for powerful nobles and wealthy merchants. The spectators, rich and poor alike, looked upon a broad oval with a sandy floor. A number of dead lions lay upon the sand, while a wounded bear stalked back and forth, bellowing.
Saddiq tapped Caina's shoulder.
"You attend to the lords in their boxes," said Saddiq, looking towards the box that would hold Khosrau and his guests. "I shall attend to our...friend...atop the Ring."
He looked at the roofed colonnade that encircled the highest tier of seats. From there, a skilled archer had a clean shot at anyone sitting in the lords' boxes.
"How will you get up there?" said Caina.
"There are hidden ladders so the slaves can clean the pillars," said Saddiq. "Good hunting."
The Ghosts Omnibus: The Kyracian War Page 44
