Ghost in the Hunt

by Moeller, Jonathan

  It stopped in midair a dozen paces away. Claudia blinked, puzzled at the sight. The knife bobbed and twitched, supported by nothingness, and then faded into translucency.

  Right about then Claudia’s brain caught up with her eyes, and she realized what she was seeing.

  She cursed and started a spell.

  The air flickered, and a scarred man clad only in a loincloth appeared before Caina, snarling as he ripped the throwing knife from his left thigh. Intricate, grotesque scars covered his arms and torso, and the winged skull of the Umbarian Order marked his chest. His scars flickered and gleamed with silver light as his invisibility collapsed.

  A Silent Hunter.

  In his right hand he held a gleaming short sword, and he charged at Caina. Caina was already moving, yanking a dagger from her belt in one smooth motion. The Silent Hunter raised his short sword to block the throw of Caina’s next knife, but Caina wheeled past him and raked the leaf-bladed dagger across the assassin’s ribs. The Silent Hunter screamed as the gash sizzled and smoked, the flesh around it blackening.

  A ghostsilver dagger.

  Caina drove the dagger into the Silent Hunter’s throat, and Claudia finished her spell. Her thoughts swept around her, seeking for sources of arcane power, and she detected one. Claudia turned, focused upon it, and cast another spell.

  A hammer of psychokinetic force ripped from her hands, a breeze rising in the passage of her spell. She heard the crack of shattering bone as the spell struck flesh, and suddenly a second Silent Hunter appeared, arms and legs flailing as he tumbled through the air. He struck the ground, and Caina ran towards him, bloody dagger in hand.

  Then she stopped.

  “He’s dead,” she said. “Landed wrong. Split his skull.” She looked up. “You never used to be that quick.”

  Claudia gritted her teeth and walked closer. “The Silent Hunters have given me ample opportunities for practice.”

  “The Silent Hunters?” said Caina. “Is that what they’re called?”

  Claudia blinked in surprise. “You’ve encountered them before?”

  “About ten days ago,” said Caina. “They were sent to hunt down the Ghosts of Istarinmul. You’ve dealt with them?”

  “More than I would like,” said Claudia.

  The doors to the mansion burst open, and Imperial Guards emerged, running into the courtyard.

  “I warded the gates and all the doors,” said Claudia. “If a Silent Hunter tried to enter the mansion or the grounds, I should have known.”

  “Your wards,” said Caina as the Imperial Guards surrounded them. Tylas barked commands, and the men started to sweep the courtyard. “They function when the Silent Hunters use their powers?”

  Claudia nodded.

  “Then this man disguised himself,” said Caina. “Probably as a porter or a courier. Once he was inside, he discarded his clothing, made himself invisible, and started stalking you, waiting for a chance to strike.”

  “Or you,” said Claudia.

  Caina’s smile was mirthless. “I am a simple factor for the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers. I cannot imagine why anyone would want to claim my life.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Claudia, looking at the Guards. Tylas was a Ghost, but none of the other men were, and Caina would want her identity kept secret. Not that Claudia gave a damn for what Caina Amalas thought about anything. But the circlemaster of Istarinmul offered sound counsel.

  “What should we do with the corpses, my lady?” said Tylas.

  “Dispose of them,” said Claudia. “I do not want these Umbarian vermin despoiling the grounds.”

  Caina stepped closer and lowered her voice.

  “Actually,” she murmured, “we might be able to give Lord Martin an edge in the negotiations.”

  Claudia blinked, and then smiled as she understood Caina’s reasoning.

  Chapter 5 - The Umbarian Order

  Later they stood in the mansion’s study, the bodies of the assassins laid out upon the floor. Dromio had thoughtfully provided mats to keep the blood from staining the brilliant mosaics. Empty wooden shelves climbed the walls, and a massive wooden desk stood before a set of doors overlooking the gardens below.

  “How much do you know about them?” said Caina.

  “More than I would like,” said Claudia, pacing back and forth.

  Caina watched the Lord Ambassador’s wife.

  It was more painful than she would have expected.

  Claudia was a few years older and several inches taller than Caina. She wore a gold-trimmed green gown that matched her hair and eyes, the skirts rustling against the floor as she paced. Her long blond hair had been bound in an elaborate crown of braids, as was currently the fashion among the noblewomen of Malarae, and jewels glinted on her ears and at her throat. Her green eyes were narrowed in thought, green eyes that looked a great deal like Corvalis’s.

  It hurt to watch.

  Caina saw other parts of Corvalis reflected in Claudia. They had been raised together as children until the First Magus had given Corvalis to the Kindred and Claudia had begun her arcane training. She shared many of Corvalis’s mannerisms, and Caina saw Corvalis in Claudia’s every movement and heard him in her every word.

  It hurt so much.

  “Then you have encountered them before,” said Caina.

  “Yes,” said Claudia, glaring down at the dead men. “Several times.”

  “The more you can tell me about these Silent Hunters,” said Caina, “the better chance the Ghosts will have against them in the future.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” said Claudia. She took a deep breath. “You know the Kindred families have a close relationship with the Magisterium. The Kindred remained loyal to the Magisterium and refused to accept contracts from the Umbarian Order. So the Umbarians created their own assassins.” She pointed at the scarred corpses. “You see those scars? A necromantic spell. The Order’s necromancers carved a spell of illusion into their flesh and imbued it with power.”

  “Giving them the ability to turn invisible,” said Caina.

  “As I am sure you’ve noticed,” said Claudia.

  “Their power,” said Caina. “It must have limitations.”

  “Oh, certainly,” said Claudia. “They can only turn invisible for an hour or so a day, maybe a little longer for a particularly robust Silent Hunter. They can make their own bodies invisible, but bringing other things along with them – weapons and clothing and the like – is harder.”

  “Hence the loincloths,” said Caina. “The reason they only carry one weapon.”

  “Aye,” said Claudia. “Some go naked entirely. Their biggest limitation is that when they attack, the invisibility spell collapses. I’m not sure why. Something to do with how the spell is linked to their thoughts, I suspect. The cleverer Silent Hunters are absolutely lethal when they put their minds to it. They will infiltrate a fortress, find a hiding place, remove their clothing, kill their victim in silence, and escape before anyone is the wiser. Usually the corpse is found the next morning.”

  “I thought the Kindred and the Bostaji were bad enough,” said Caina. “These Silent Hunters are much worse.”

  “They are bad,” said Claudia, “but the Umbarians have made worse things. Undead of power and potency that make the Dust Shades we saw in Caer Magia look like annoyances. Men with steel grafted onto their flesh and bones, giving them inhuman strength and speed. Elemental spirits bound within the flesh of living men. Again and again they fuse flesh and sorcery to turn men into monsters and unleash them as weapons.”

  “Like the Immortals,” said Caina.

  Claudia gave a bitter laugh. “The creations of the Umbarians are more deadly by far, I fear. Martin has fought both, and he would rather face Immortals again.” She frowned. “How did you know those Silent Hunters were there?”

  “I felt them,” said Caina.

  Claudia nodded. “That’s right. You can sense the presence of sorcery. Little wonder you dealt with them so easily.”


  “They place too much trust in their sorcery,” said Caina, “as sorcerers so often do.”

  Claudia’s green eyes narrowed, and she seemed on the verge of some cutting comment. Then she looked at the dead assassins and shrugged. “It is hard to argue with your results. I can sense the presence of active sorcery, but only if I cast a spell. You can do so passively. It would be a useful ability.”

  “The price for acquiring it is rather high,” said Caina.

  Claudia hesitated. “I suppose so.”

  “Your wards to detect them,” said Caina. “How do they work?”

  “If a Silent Hunter walks through a warded entrance,” said Claudia, “the wards will alert me.”

  “But only,” said Caina, “if the Silent Hunter is using his power?”

  Claudia sighed. “You see the problem. You’re not the only one who has a knack for impersonation and disguises. If they’re clever, they stroll through the warded doors and then use their powers with impunity.”

  “I suppose the nobles can hardly order all their guests and servants to strip in their presence,” said Caina, “to see if they are free of scars.”

  “Some of them do,” said Claudia. “At least after the first wave of assassinations in Malarae.”

  “Gods,” said Caina. “It is that bad?”

  “Worse,” said Claudia. “The Empire is in dire straits.” Her smile was thin. “Which you would know, had you not squandered the last year terrorizing the slavers of Istarinmul to no purpose.”

  Caina felt a burst of anger. Claudia could blame her for Corvalis’s death all she liked. But this…

  “Things are dire in Istarinmul as well,” said Caina. “You saw those wraithblood addicts upon the street, I assume?”

  Some of Claudia’s scorn faded. “Aye. They have a mild sorcerous aura.”

  “Every last one of them,” said Caina. “The wraithblood. Do you know how it is made?”

  Claudia shook her head. “Some sort of sorcerous elixir, I suppose.”

  “The blood of murdered slaves,” said Caina. “Callatas makes it from the blood of murdered slaves. Thousands upon thousands of slaves, bought from the Slavers’ Brotherhood and herded into Callatas’s laboratories, murdered upon his steel tables, their blood transformed into wraithblood and given to the population of the city.”

  “Why?” said Claudia. “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Caina. “But…”

  The door opened, and two Imperial Guards marched into the study, followed by Martin Dorius, the Emperor’s Lord Ambassador to the Padishah of Istarinmul.

  He had not changed much since Caina had last seem him in New Kyre on the day of the golden dead. He was in his late thirties, tall and strong with gray-streaked black hair and deep gray eyes. There were more lines upon his face than Caina remembered. When she had first met him in Calvarium, he had struck Caina as a man who had seen things he wished to forget.

  Apparently he had seen a few more things he wished to forget.

  But relief flooded his tired face as he saw Claudia.

  “You’re safe, thank all the gods of the Empire,” said Martin. “I came as soon as I received the message from Tylas and Dromio. I…”

  He saw Caina and blinked.

  “Leave us, please,” said Martin to his Guards. “I wish to have words alone with my wife.” He looked back at Caina. “And her guest.”

  The Guards bowed and withdrew, and Martin crossed the room and took Claudia in his arms. There was such concern in his face that Caina found herself moved. Martin was a good man, and it pleased Caina that he had found some joy in his life.

  There was little enough of it in the world.

  After a moment Martin released his wife.

  “Caina Amalas,” said Martin. “I expected to see you again. Especially after all the tales and rumors of the Balarigar we have heard. It seems I owe you my wife’s life.”

  “I killed the second Silent Hunter,” said Claudia. “But…yes. If the circlemaster had not arrived when she had, the Hunters might have taken me unawares.”

  “They might have come here for me,” said Caina. “A message arrived from the high circlemasters ten days ago, carrying news of your arrival and commanding me to aid you. Two Silent Hunters followed the courier, killed him, and almost killed me and one of my nightkeepers.”

  “How did you escape?” said Martin. “If the Silent Hunters get close enough to their targets to use their invisibility, they often claim their victims’ lives.”

  “I could sense their presence,” said Caina.

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Martin. “Your ability.” He shook his head. “That would have been useful in Malarae over the last year.”

  “I hope it shall be useful here,” said Caina. She considered for a moment. “Let us say the Silent Hunters were after you, not me. Why would the Umbarians kill an ambassador in the capital of a foreign nation? It would be an insult to the Padishah.”

  Martin shrugged. “Who can say? The Umbarians represent the worst of the magi, power and intelligence mated to utter ruthlessness and lack of scruple. It is entirely possible they were here to kill Claudia. Losing my wife just as I assume my duties as Lord Ambassador would be a severe blow to my confidence and morale.”

  “The Umbarians,” said Claudia, her face tight with fear as she looked at her husband, “have employed such tactics before.”

  “They are without scruple,” said Martin, “and have disregarded every law and custom of war. Killing an ambassador’s wife is nowhere near the blackest deed they have wrought.”

  “Then let us endeavor to defeat them,” said Caina. “We can start by making sure that Istarinmul does not ally itself with the Umbarians against the Empire.”

  Martin sighed “That may prove more difficult than I hoped.” He looked at Claudia. “I discovered who will serve as the Order’s emissary to the Padishah.”

  “Who?” said Claudia.

  “Cassander Nilas of Artifel,” said Martin.

  Claudia’s green eyes narrowed.

  “I do not know the name,” said Caina, “but I assume that you do.”

  “He was one of the high magi,” said Claudia. “A rival of my father’s. He wanted to be First Magus, and was quite comfortable that everyone knew it.”

  “I am surprised Decius Aberon didn’t have him assassinated,” said Caina.

  “He tried. Three times,” said Claudia. “After the last attempt, he had the assassins flayed and hung what was left of them from the walls of his tower in Artifel.”

  “Now he is one of the chief Umbarians,” said Martin. “Or he always was and only now has revealed himself. He contributed to some of the Order’s greatest victories.” He made a fist and struck it against the pommel of the broadsword sheathed at his belt. “I had hoped the Umbarians would send only a minor functionary to petition the Padishah, not one of the chief leaders. The Order is indeed serious about gaining the friendship of Istarinmul.”

  “They would be fools not to be,” said Caina. “Especially if their armies are stalled at Artifel. If Istarinmul allies with them, the Padishah will open the Starfall Straits. Then the Umbarians can send a fleet though the Straits to attack Malarae through the Bay of Empire.”

  “And thanks to Kylon Shipbreaker,” said Martin, “the Emperor has no fleet left in the Cyrican sea, and the Umbarians seized most of the Imperial fleet in the Alqaarin sea. The Emperor and the Imperial Curia have raised so many new Legions that there are no funds left to construct a new fleet. If the Umbarians send a force through the Starfall Straits, we will be hard-pressed to stop them from taking Malarae.”

  “Then we need to convince Istarinmul to ally with the Empire,” said Caina.

  Martin gave a tired laugh. “That would be splendid, but such a goal seems out of reach. If I can merely convince the Padishah to remain neutral, I will be elated. I have conducted negotiations of this kind before, but never with such high stakes.”

  “When do
you meet the Padishah’s court?” said Caina.

  “In three days’ time,” said Martin. “Apparently both Lord Cassander and I are meeting the Grand Wazir at the same time. Evidently such a confrontation amuses him.”

  “It would,” said Caina. Erghulan Amirasku, the Grand Wazir of Istarinmul, was one of Callatas’s strongest supporters. He was the sort of man who would enjoy watching the ambassadors of two rival powers spar for his approval.

  “You’ve met the Grand Wazir?” said Claudia, dubious.

  “Twice,” said Caina. “Under different identities both time.” She considering telling Claudia how little clothing she had been wearing as Natalia of the Nine Knives, and decided against it. “He wouldn’t remember me.”

  “You have been here for a year,” said Martin. “You know Istarinmul better than I do. You know the powerful men of the nation, what they want, what their weakness are. Tell me anything I can use.”

  “Of course,” said Caina. “You won’t be talking to the Padishah himself. Neither you nor Cassander will see him.”

  Martin frowned. “Then neither the Empire nor the Order’s appeal is worth his attention? That is reassuring. Perhaps he simply means to ignore both us and the war.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Caina. “No one has seen Nahas Tarshahzon in public for nearly three years, and his son and heir disappeared soon after the end of the war. Some rumors claim that the Padishah is ill and unable to appear in public, and others claim that he is in fact dead, that Grand Master Callatas and Grand Wazir Erghulan have covered up his death and are ruling Istarinmul in his name.” From what she had seen of both the Grand Master and the Grand Wazir, Caina would not put it past them.

  “Then who shall we meet?” said Martin.

  “Most likely Erghulan Amirasku, the Grand Wazir,” said Caina. “The real power in Istarinmul is Callatas, the Grand Master of the College of Alchemists. He is an evil man, but that might be your biggest advantage.”

  “Why?” said Martin.