The Ghosts Omnibus: The Kyracian War

by Jonathan Moeller

  Which mean no one would blame the Sarbians or Basil Callenius for what happened next…which in turn meant no one would even begin to suspect the Ghosts.

  “I hope,” said Corvalis, “that your slave knows what he is doing.”

  “He is not my slave,” said Annika with a smile, “he is Master Khaltep’s slave. And he also happens to be my friend. Friendships are important, Master Cormark. Because he is my friend, I know that he works in Irzaris’s kitchens…and that he is not terribly fond of his master. He will be more than willing to do what I ask, in exchange for Basil arranging his freedom. And speaking of Basil, here he comes.”

  A pair of sedan chairs carried by eight burly slaves strode into sight, flanked by four of Saddiq’s mercenaries still clad in their distinctive robes and turbans. The bearers squatted, and Halfdan and Claudia descended from the sedan chairs. Halfdan offered Claudia his arm, and they walked to the doors. A pair of slaves pulled them open, and Caina saw Irzaris stride out to greet his guests.

  And then they vanished inside.

  “Now we wait,” said Annika.

  “How long?” said Corvalis.

  “Perhaps an hour,” said Annika. “My friends in Irzaris’s house tell me the cook feeds the guards after the master sits down for dinner.”

  Caina nodded. She saw several guards, two of them standing at the doors, and two more patrolling the mansion’s flat roof. No doubt others awaited within. Irzaris did not seem the sort of man to take chances with his personal security.

  After an hour or so, a thin man in a slave’s tunic emerged from the mansion. He offered some bread and a skin of wine to the guards, who began to eat.

  And a few moments later, the guards toppled over.

  "Did you kill them?" said Saddiq, blinking in surprise.

  "Of course not," said Annika. "That would defeat the purpose of keeping this quiet, no? If we need to make Irzaris disappear...the guards will awaken and find their master missing. Whereas if they wake up and find their master lying a pool of blood, they will create more of a fuss than we want."

  "Though it would be ideal," said Caina, "if they find their master safe and sound, after he’s told us everything we wish to know without making trouble."

  Corvalis nodded. "Now?"

  "Wait," said Caina, staring at the mansion's roof. After a moment she saw the silhouettes of the guards topple. "Now. Don't kill anyone unless it's necessary."

  She tugged a black mask in place over her face, a tight hood that only left her eyes visible. Corvalis and Saddiq did the same, as did the other men.

  "Well," said Annika with a laugh. "Don't you look like the perfect collection of thugs? I fear I shall be robbed."

  "You won't," said Caina. "Keep your shop ready. We might need a place to take Irzaris." Annika nodded. "Let's go. Corvalis, do the talking."

  "As you say," said Corvalis, taking the lead. Caina followed, as did Saddiq and the other Sarbians. Corvalis threw open the doors and strode into the interior hall of Irzaris's mansion, weapons ready. A glittering mosaic covered the floor, and elaborate Anshani tapestries hung from the walls. Apparently they had not been a euphemism after all.

  They hurried into the dining hall. An elaborate chandelier hung overhead, studded with dozens of glowing, enspelled crystals. Beneath the chandelier stood a low table, and Halfdan, Claudia, and Irzaris sat on cushions in Anshani style. Irzaris shot to his feet, eyes wide. Halfdan's mouth fell open in shock, while Claudia shrieked and lifted her hands to her throat.

  They played their parts well. Theodosia would have been proud.

  "What is the meaning of this?" thundered Irzaris. "How dare you invade my home! Guards! Kill them! Guards! Guards..."

  His voice trailed off as no guards appeared. Annika's friends had done their work well.

  "I assure you," said Halfdan, his voice quavering, "that I am worth more alive than dead, and that both my daughter and I, if we are left unharmed, will fetch a fine ransom from the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers..."

  "Shut up, old man," said Corvalis in growling Anshani. "We're not here for you."

  "And you are here for me, hmm?" said Irzaris, his tone dripping contempt. "Do you have any idea who I am? I have the favor of the Scholae itself! Run while you still can, and..."

  Corvalis punched him. Irzaris fell backwards across the table, sending both food and wine splattering everywhere. Caina had never seen a man look so astonished.

  "Come along," said Corvalis, "while you still have some teeth left."

  He seized Irzaris's collar, hauled him to his feet, and dragged the merchant along. Caina followed, sword in hand. Corvalis pushed open a door and strode into the room beyond, still dragging Irzaris. The room looked like a study, a desk in one corner and shelves of curios lining the walls. A half-open door next to the desk led to the mansion’s central courtyard.

  Corvalis dumped Irzaris on the floor and rested the tip of his sword against the merchant's throat.

  “And now,” said Corvalis, “you are going to tell us everything.”

  Irzaris scowled and spat some blood upon the floor. “Everything about what?”

  “How Mihaela creates the glypharmor,” said Corvalis.

  Irzaris burst out laughing. “Oh, this is rich! Who hired you, hmm? Arsakan and his decrepit brother Yaramzod, I suppose, since you’re speaking Anshani. Or was it perhaps…”

  Corvalis gave the merchant a gentle tap with his sword point. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” said Irzaris. “I am just a merchant. I know nothing of sorcery, and I have no idea how Mihaela…”

  “He’s lying,” growled Caina in Anshani, making sure to keep her voice disguised. Trying to sound like a normal man was harder than the rasping voice she used while wearing her shadow-cloak.

  “No,” said Irzaris, “I am not. I…”

  “Do not trifle with us,” said Caina. “We know you are closer to Mihaela than you claim. We know you have supplied her with counsel, in addition to red Nhabati iron.” She took a calculated guess. “And we know that you orchestrated those attacks outside Catekharon.”

  Irzaris blinked in surprise. “How did you know…no, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “A merchant paying mercenaries on the sly to attack his rivals is nothing new,” said Caina. “But the attacks had a second point, didn’t they? Mihaela used them to frighten Zalandris into supporting her work. She brought a little war to his doorstep, and convinced him that her glypharmor could end all war.”

  Irzaris said nothing.

  Caina nodded to Corvalis.

  Corvalis kicked Irzaris in the gut. As the merchant doubled over, wheezing for breath, Corvalis stooped, seized Irzaris’s right hand, and broke his little finger.

  Irzaris’s shriek of pain echoed off the ceiling.

  “Please,” said Caina, leaning closer as Irzaris clutched his wounded hand, “tell us what you know. How does Mihaela create the glypharmor?”

  “You’re dead,” spat Irzaris.

  “I do not think,” said Caina, “you are in any position to make threats. Tell us how Mihaela makes the glypharmor while you can still feed yourself…”

  “You don’t understand,” said Irzaris. “That’s not a threat. That’s a promise. You don’t know who you’re threatening.”

  “A merchant?” said Caina.

  “Mihaela,” said Irzaris. “I know what you think. She’s just a Seeker. Zalandris is the mind behind her skill. But you’re wrong. The glypharmor is her work, and Zalandris is a feeble old puppet. Who sent you, hmm? The First Magus? Callatas? It doesn’t matter. They’ll be dead, all of them, once Mihaela finishes her work.” He laughed. “And you’ll be dead, too, once…”

  Caina felt a surge of arcane power, distinct against the tingling aura that hung over the entire city.

  Someone was casting a spell nearby.

  “Sorcerer!” said Caina, taking a sideways step. “It…”

  The door to the c
ourtyard exploded, shards raining across the floor. Irzaris sat up and grinned.

  “Aid me!” he shouted. “I told them nothing! Kill them all, and…”

  A cloaked and hooded man stepped through the door and lifted a hand. A bar of darkness wreathed in green flame burst from his fingers and slammed into Irzaris’s chest. Irzaris collapsed to the floor with a scream, the ghostly green flames dancing over his limbs. He twitched like a landed fish, screamed once more, and then went motionless.

  Caina lifted her weapons, as did Corvalis. She could not see under the cloaked man’s hood, but she saw that he wore leather armor, a sheathed sword on his left hip and a dagger on his right.

  Something about the shape of the dagger’s handle tugged at her memory.

  “Well,” said the cloaked man, his voice rusty, “he always did like to talk too much.” He spat a laugh. “An unpleasant quality in a man.”

  Caina knew that voice at once.

  “No,” she said. “You’re dead. I saw you die.”

  “Ah,” said the cloaked man. “Mistress. So good to see you again.”

  He drew back his hood.

  His bald head and hairless face were hideously scarred, and almost looked as if they had been stitched together out of pieces of old leather. His left eye was green, while the right was a sulfurous yellow-orange. Even from a distance, his stench filled Caina’s nostrils, a hideous mixture of rotting meat and clotting blood.

  “Sicarion,” said Caina. “I saw you die.”

  “I beg to differ,” said Sicarion. “You saw Ranarius throw me out of the Palace of Splendors with his spell. The landing hurt, but it didn’t kill me. Though I did have to replace one of my kidneys and both of my legs.” He grinned. “I would kill him for it, but I suppose you did it for me. Destroyed by his pet elemental? Appropriate. When he still served the mistress, I warned him that his pets would turn on him.”

  Caina had seen Sicarion use his twisted necromancy before. With his spells, he harvested limbs and organs from living victims and grafted them onto his own flesh. It had transformed him into a grotesque, scarred monster…but it had also allowed him to live for centuries and survive multiple mortal wounds.

  “That’s where Mihaela learned the necromancy for the glypharmor,” said Caina. “You taught her.”

  “She is such a clever girl, mistress,” murmured Sicarion. “Give her a coin, and she’ll turn it into three. But tonight has been delightful. I’ve wanted to kill Irzaris ever since I met him.” His mismatched eyes shifted to Corvalis. “And I’ve wanted to kill you for years.”

  “Try,” said Corvalis, pointing his sword and dagger at the scarred assassin.

  Sicarion began casting a spell as Caina and Corvalis both dashed forward, weapons raised. Sicarion flung out a hand, and Corvalis ducked, trying to dodge whatever sorcery Sicarion unleashed.

  But at the last minute Sicarion pointed at Caina.

  A blast of invisible force struck Caina across the chest and stomach, and the spell picked her up and flung her into the wall. One of the shelves cracked, curios spilling around Caina, plates and daggers and statuettes falling to the floor. The breath erupted from her lungs in an explosive gasp, and she fell atop the broken shelf. The spell had not been enough to kill her. But it had been enough to stun her, and Sicarion drove at Corvalis with fury. In his right hand he wielded a sword, and in his left an ugly dagger with a serrated edge. Caina had seen him use that weapon to carve limbs from his victims and graft them onto his own body.

  And he would do the same to Corvalis.

  Caina heaved herself to her feet as Corvalis backed into the hallway, his blades ringing against Sicarion’s weapons. Caina raced after them, yanked a throwing knife from her belt, and flung it with all her strength. It struck Sicarion in the shoulder, cutting his cloak, but bounced away. He must have been wearing mail beneath his leather armor.

  Corvalis backed into the dining hall. Halfdan and Claudia shot to their feet, and Saddiq and his men gripped their weapons. Corvalis retreated, and Sicarion stepped to the left. Caina hurried after him, hoping to stab him in the back, but Sicarion slid along the wall.

  He let out a low laugh.

  “Is that your lovely sister, Aberon?” said Sicarion. “So you freed her from the stone after all. Such a pretty face. Perhaps I’ll slice it off and keep it as a souvenir.”

  “What sort of devil are you?” said Claudia, her voice tight.

  “You must be Sicarion,” said Halfdan.

  “My fame proceeds me,” said Sicarion with a mocking little bow.

  “You can’t fight all of us,” said Halfdan. “I suggest you surrender.”

  “You are correct,” said Sicarion. “I cannot fight all of you. But why should I bother? You’ll be dead in a few days anyway…”

  He flung out his hands, and Caina felt the spike of arcane power. Invisible force erupted in all directions, knocking her to the floor and toppling Saddiq and his men like toys. Halfdan fell against the dining cushions, while Claudia managed to keep her feet, her hands raised in a warding spell. Corvalis fell to one knee, and Caina glimpsed a flare of white light as the Ulkaari tattoos shielded him from the worst of the spell.

  But it was not enough. Sicarion whirled and fled through the mansion’s doors.

  ###

  “I thought you said,” said Halfdan, “that he was dead.”

  Caina, Corvalis, and Claudia sat the table in Halfdan’s sitting room. They had searched the streets and alleys around Irzaris’s mansion, hoping to catch Sicarion, but the scarred assassin had vanished without a trace.

  But he would be back. Caina was sure of it.

  “I did think he was dead,” said Caina. “Ranarius threw him from the top of the Stone. I didn’t think anyone could survive a fall from that height.” She shuddered. “I wonder how many people he had to kill to…repair himself.”

  “What sort of creature is he?” said Claudia.

  “A necromancer,” said Caina. “His spells let him take body parts from other people and attach them to his own flesh. Cut off his hand, and he’ll merely steal one from someone else.”

  “We fought once, in Artifel,” said Corvalis. “After Ranarius turned you to stone. I foiled him from killing someone, and he’s promised to kill me ever since.”

  Halfdan poured himself some wine from a carafe on the sideboard. “I think we know how Mihaela learned the necromancy she used in the glypharmor.”

  Claudia frowned. “This Sicarion taught her?”

  “It seems likely,” said Caina, thinking. The Moroaica had not appeared to Caina since the incident with the glypharmor. Was the glypharmor one of her plots? Though Jadriga had warned Caina of danger in the past…

  No. She had warned Caina about Ranarius, and Ranarius had rebelled against her. If Jadriga wanted Mihaela’s plan, whatever it was, to succeed, she would not warn Caina.

  “Then it’s possible,” said Corvalis, “that the First Magus knows more than we thought. Sicarion has done errands for him in the past.”

  Claudia’s frown deepened. “Surely not even Father would associate with…with such a creature.”

  “He’s a magus,” said Caina. “There is nothing a magus would not do…” She caught herself and started over. “Decius Aberon is the sort of man who would murder his own children if it brought him greater power. You know that better than I do.”

  “What about Irzaris?” said Corvalis. “We left his mansion a mess. And it’s no secret that you visited him for dinner.”

  “We will do nothing,” said Halfdan. “When his guards and slaves awake, they will find Irzaris dead in his study without a mark on him, thanks to Sicarion’s spell. Both Claudia and I will say that Irzaris made inappropriate advances on her, and we were so offended that we left.”

  “That’s true enough,” muttered Claudia.

  “His death will be a mystery,” said Halfdan, “but no one will be too interested in solving it. There’s too much at stake. All the ambassadors will assume that one
of the other ambassadors murdered Irzaris to find the secret of the glypharmor’s creation.”

  “Which will increase the pressure on Mihaela,” said Caina, “if she thinks someone is coming after her.”

  “And men under pressure,” said Halfdan, “make mistakes. Women, too, for that matter. If Mihaela is frightened, she might do something rash…and then we have our chance. In the meantime, I suggest we get some sleep. It has been a long day, and tomorrow promises to be longer.”

  ###

  That night Corvalis slept in Caina’s bed. She suspected the various ambassadors and embassies were too consumed with their own problems to take note that a merchant’s daughter was sharing a bed with her father’s guard.

  Besides, it was the sort of thing a wealthy merchant’s daughter might do.

  And she was surprised to learn that nothing fired the passions like a brush with death.

  After they finished, after Corvalis had fallen asleep, Caina focused, thinking about the Moroaica. She intended to hunt down the Moroaica in her dreams, to force Jadriga to answer questions.

  But no dreams came, and Caina sank into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 18 - An Invitation

  “Go into the city,” said Halfdan, “disguised as my daughter, and visit Annika’s shop. Take Corvalis and Saddiq with you. Word must have leaked out of Irzaris’s death, and I want to know what the rumors say.”

  Caina nodded, dressed herself in a simple gown appropriate for travel, and left the palace, Corvalis at her side. They walked along the stone terrace, the crater lake stretching alongside them, the smooth waters reflecting the aqueducts of molten steel overhead.

  “A pity,” said Corvalis, “that Barimaz isn’t here. One of his sausage rolls would …”

  Caina reached the top of the stairs to the causeway and froze.

  Mihaela stood at the bottom of the stairs, gazing up at her.

  Caina had expected Mihaela to do something unexpected…but not quite this.