Ghost in the Flames (The Ghosts)

by Moeller, Jonathan

  Nicephorus, it seemed, had taken a better gauge of the crowd’s mood than Kalastus. The Lord Governor turned and almost ran back up the steps, vanishing into the Imperial Basilica, the doors booming shut behind him. Kalastus spat a curse, and took a step after him, when the abuse of the crowd reached his ears.

  “Murderer!” shouted one man. “Murderer! Sorcerous dog!” The cry came from a dozen more men.

  Kalastus spat derisive laughter. “And what do you intend to do about? Please. I am as far above you rabble as a hawk is above a worm. Disperse, and I’ll choose to ignore your insult…”

  Caina never saw who threw the stone.

  It clipped Kalastus across the jaw. The magus stumbled back with a cry of surprised pain, hands clamped to his bruised face, blood welling between his fingers. The Saddai yelled and jeered, and they rushed at him. Valgorix bellow a command to his men, and for a moment Caina thought the plaza would explode into a riot around them…

  Then Kalastus reared up, face twisted with fury, lips pulled back from his bloody teeth in a snarl, and made a chopping motion.

  The surge of power came so fast and so hard that it hit Caina like a slap. There was a roar, and suddenly seven or eight Saddai were tumbling through the air, their limbs flopping. Kalastus chopped again, and the power of his will sent another dozen Saddai flying. One landed with a sickening crunch a dozen feet from Caina, neck twisted at a sharp angle. The Saddai crowd broke and ran, the militiamen staring in stunned horror, but still Kalastus unleashed his powers. He gestured again, and a Saddai woman froze in place. He made a fist, and the woman’s terrified screams stopped as every bone in her body shattered at once. Blood burst from her mouth, and she toppled to the basalt flagstones in a crimson puddle.

  “Countess,” said Ark. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Caina shook herself, horrified at the carnage Kalastus had unleashed. “Yes, yes, you’re right, he’s lost his…”

  “You!”

  Kalastus stood not twenty paces away, and Caina felt a sudden surge of fear. Then anger smothered her fear. Kalastus’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and wild, sweat glistening on his bald head. He looked almost exhilarated, as if murdering a dozen had been like a wine to him.

  “Master Kalastus,” said Caina, trying to keep her voice cold, “I see you are…”

  “Shut up!” said Kalastus, stalking towards her. “Shut up! I’ve come to detest honeyed words. Especially yours. I hope you choke on them. I hope they rot in your throat.”

  Ark drew his sword, the steel rasping. Kalastus did not seem to care. More likely he did not consider Ark a threat.

  “Come to laugh at me?” Kalastus said, stopping ten feet away. “Did you whip the crowd against me? Have you heard that one of the magi was murdered in the chapterhouse? Did you laugh at that as well, Countess? Well? The Saddai will pay for it.” He looked at the broken corpses strewn across the plaza and laughed. “They’ve already started.”

  “You murderous animal!” said Caina, no longer bothering to mask her contempt, her rage. “One man threw a stone at you. One man! And for that you slaughter a score of men, and women too! I doubt you even killed the one who threw the rock, you stupid, blind…”

  “The strong can do what they wish, and weak have no choice but to suffer it,” said Kalastus. “And they dared to attack me. Me! A master of the Magisterium, and they dared to raise their hands against me! They’ve paid for it.”

  “And the dead magus at your chapterhouse?” said Caina. She knew that she ought to not provoke him further, but she was too furious to care. “Was he strong?”

  The rage in Kalastus’s eyes sharpened. “The Saddai will suffer for it. For every drop of a magus’s blood that they spilled, I shall take a thousand gallons. All who defy the will of the Magisterium will pay.” His voice dropped to a purring snarl. “And you defied my will, dear Countess.”

  Caina said nothing. Would Kalastus dare to attack her here, in public view? But, then, he had already slaughtered a score of Saddai, hadn’t he?

  “You’ll scream before I’m done with you,” said Kalastus. “I’ll show you such pain that a strong man would weep to hear of it. I’ll reach into your mind and fill your eyes with nightmares. And when I’m done, you’ll get on your knees and beg me to take you to my bed.” He smiled. “You’ll beg for it.”

  Ark stepped before Caina, sword in hand.

  Kalastus gaped at the weapon for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “Do you think your pet thug frightens me, Countess? Please. If he is foolish enough to stand against me, then I will sweep him from my path like an insect. Run away, fool, or I’ll break every bone in your arms and legs and make you watch as I tame the Countess.”

  “Go to hell,” said Ark.

  “Hell?” laughed Kalastus. He gestured at the corpses lying in their own blood. “I can show you hell, if you like…”

  His voice trailed off, and he looked to the side with irritation. Caina saw Ephaeron hurrying into the square, black robes whipping around his thin frame, followed by a half-dozen other magi. Kalastus’s face twisted with contempt.

  “Run away, little Countess,” said Kalastus. His voice had gone quiet, almost calm, and that was almost more frightening than his towering fury. “Run away, and hide in your rooms, and cry into your pillows. But I promise you, you’ll be kneeling at my feet. Begging for it. Soon.”

  He laughed once more, and strolled off to meet Ephaeron.

  “Gods,” muttered Ark, returning his blade to his scabbard. “We should have killed him. We really should have killed him.” He looked at the dead Saddai. “All these people…”

  “And nothing will happen to him for it,” said Caina. “Nicephorus is too much of a coward. Kalastus will claim he acted in defense of his life, and our valiant Lord Governor will agree with him. And Gaidan will hear of this, and if he does not whip the Sons of Corazain into a frenzy over this massacre I will be amazed.” She shook her head. “Do you see why I hate the magi so much?”

  Ark scowled. “The only magus I’ve ever really known was Ephaeron. Are they all like that?”

  “Probably,” said Caina, “though most have more self-restraint than Kalastus.”

  She shivered, his threats still ringing in her ears. He had the power to make every last one of them come true. Her mother had tried to do it, and reduced her father to a drooling imbecile. But her mother had never been able to throw men like broken toys with a gesture, either. Kalastus could reach into her mind, break her will and reshape it as he pleased, until she knelt at his feet and begged him to take her to his bed. To do so would violate the laws of the Empire, of course, but Caina doubted that would trouble Kalastus in the least. Or his fellow magi, if he was smart enough not to get caught.

  She realized that she had erred, badly, in going to the Magisterium chapterhouse. Kalastus had become her mortal enemy. He might very well kill her before she had a chance to find the pyromancer.

  Or do worse than kill her. He could do much, much worse.

  “Get the coach,” said Caina. Her throat was dry. “We’d better go back to the Inn.”

  Chapter 19 - Bribes

  Ark returned the coach to the Inn’s stables, and Caina walked to her suite. To her surprise, the maids were nowhere to be seen. She found them in her bedroom, gazing in horror out the balcony doors.

  “My lady!” said Julia. “You’re safe!”

  “What happened here?” said Caina.

  “There was a crowd outside the Basilica,” said Anya, “and we saw your coach coming, and you and Ark get out. And then something started throwing men into the air. They screamed so horribly. Are…are you well, my lady? Were you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” said Caina. She took a deep breath. “A magus was found murdered, burned to death, at the Magisterium chapterhouse. One of the masters came to demand justice of Lord Nicephorus, someone in the crowd threw a stone, and…the master went berserk. He loosed his sorcery and killed at least twenty people.”

&nbs
p; “Good gods,” said Cornelia. “Those magi were not to be trusted, I’ve always said so. No good can come from meddling with dark powers.”

  “You have no idea how much I agree with you,” said Caina.

  “My lady…forgive me for asking, but that master,” said Anya, “was he the same one who dined with you?”

  Caina nodded. “Listen to me very closely. If you see a magus, do not talk to him, and try to find a hiding place. The master…bears me a grudge, and he might try to do me harm.”

  “A grudge?” said Cornelia. “Why?”

  Caina sighed. “He made…indecent advances, and I refused him.” That was an understatement, to say the least. But the maids were sympathetic, which made Caina feel absurdly better. She wound up sitting in a chair by the window, a glass of wine in her hand. She hated wine, but hoped it would steady her frayed nerves somewhat.

  Ark returned, and closed and locked the door behind him. “The coach is in the stables.”

  “Good,” said Caina. “You know my plans for tonight.” She did not want to speak openly in front of her maids. “I shall…”

  The lock undid itself, and the door swung open.

  A man in a black robe with a purple sash filled the doorway.

  Caina scrambled to her feet in sudden alarm, reaching for the knives in her sleeve, while Ark whirled, his broadsword flying free from its scabbard.

  The man held up his hands. “Hold! Hold, I say.”

  It was Ephaeron, not Kalastus. Ark slid his sword back into the scabbard, still keeping his eyes on the magus, while Caina sat back down. The maids stood frozen with sudden fear. Ephaeron walked into the sitting room, glancing around. He looked tired, more tired than Caina remembered, his eyes bloodshot and sunken, jaw rough with stubble.

  “I have not issued you an invitation,” said Caina in her iciest tone.

  Ephaeron ignored her. “You three.” He pointed at the maids. “Go downstairs and have something to eat. Your mistress and I must have words, but she shall summon you when our business is finished.”

  Cornelia glanced at Caina.

  “Go,” said Caina. She looked at Ephaeron. “This won’t take long.”

  Cornelia, Julia, and Anya filed out, trying to stay as far from the magus as possible. Ephaeron stared at Ark, his bloodshot eyes intent.

  “Send your guard away as well, Countess,” said Ephaeron. “We must speak privately.”

  “No,” said Caina, her tone still cold. “You magi have given me little reason to trust your honor. Ark shall stay.”

  She expected Ephaeron to argue. But he only nodded. “Very well.”

  “What do you want of me?” said Caina.

  He sighed and crossed to the center of the room, rubbing his jaw. “It has come to my attention that Master Kalastus may have made inappropriate advances towards you. Is this true?”

  “It is,” said Caina.

  Ephaeron sighed again and closed his eyes. “What happened?”

  “We were eating dinner,” said Caina. “He must have put drugs into the wine, because I started to feel fuzzy.” Countess Marianna Nereide would know nothing of mind-spells. “Then…he opened my gown and started to fondle me. I was frightened, and tried to pull away. He did…something, some magic thing, and I was thrown into the wall. He looked so angry, and I was sure he was going to kill me. But then Ark found us, and we left.”

  “Damn it,” muttered Ephaeron. He glanced at Ark. “What else happened? Master Kalastus looks somewhat battered.”

  “I was very upset,” said Caina. “And my captain of guard becomes…direct when I am upset.”

  “Evidently,” said Ephaeron. He picked up the carafe, poured himself some wine, and took a drink. “Countess, I must apologize to you for Master Kalastus’s actions, which were…inappropriate.”

  Caina blinked in astonishment.

  Apologies? From a magus? This was unprecedented.

  “Kalastus has been in Rasadda for nearly twenty years,” said Ephaeron, “while I only just recently arrived. In truth, Countess, I have been sent to replace him. The high magi feel that Kalastus has spent entirely too long in the Saddai province. We fear that he has become acclimated to Saddai customs and mores. In short, we fear that he has gone native.”

  “Kalastus hates the Saddai,” said Caina. “He told me so himself. At some length.”

  Ephaeron shrugged. “Perhaps he is simply getting old. Regardless of the cause, his behavior has become increasingly…erratic, and he is no longer fit to head the local chapter.”

  “Erratic?” said Caina, incredulous.

  Ephaeron blinked. “Certainly that may be the wrong word to describe his advances towards…”

  “Erratic?” repeated Caina. “He just murdered almost twenty people in a fit of pique, and you call that erratic? What would you say if he took up the murder of children for a hobby? That he has become somewhat unreliable?”

  Ephaeron’s face hardened. “Master Kalastus was merely defending himself. The crowd assaulted him.”

  Caina stood, too angry to sit. “Someone in the crowd threw one stone at him. One! And that was only after Kalastus had threatened to kill ten thousand Saddai in repayment for the magus murdered last night. I doubt he even killed the man who actually threw the stone.”

  “His response may have been somewhat excessive…”

  “Somewhat excessive?” said Caina, almost shouting. She took a breath to bring her tone back under control. “The man is a murderous criminal and ought to stand trial for this. Assuming you magi follow any laws but your own whims.”

  “I do not agree,” said Ephaeron. “His actions were excessive, yes. But he had the right to defend himself. Many of the Empire’s commoners, and more than a few of the nobles, hold the Magisterium in fear and contempt.” He titled his head to one side. “Yourself included, I would guess.”

  “If the magi did not use their arts to butcher Saddai peasants in the street,” said Caina, “perhaps you would be a little more loved.”

  “Science, Countess. Science, not art.” The use of the wrong term seemed to annoy him more than a flat-out accusation of murder. “We in the Magisterium study and practice the arcane sciences. Only mummers and fools describe the arcane sciences as an art.”

  “Science or art, it was still murder,” said Caina.

  Ephaeron shook his head. He seemed not to have heard her. “Kalastus had a right to defend himself, and no magistrate in the Empire will think otherwise. But, yes. He overreacted, and badly. A man who kept his wits about him could have defused the situation without resorting to bloodshed. Instead, I have another mess upon my hands. Between this, the burning murders, and Lord Nicephorus’s gross incompetence, it shall be a miracle if we do not have a revolt before the month is out.”

  Ephaeron thought Nicephorus incompetent? Interesting.

  “But that is none of your concern,” said Ephaeron, his bloodshot gaze returning to Caina. “Simply put, this latest incident only proves that Kalastus has spent too long in Rasadda, and is no longer fit to head the local chapter. That, along with your…unpleasantness.”

  “Unpleasantness?” Caina sat back down. “Such a delicate word for it, learned master.”

  Ephaeron sighed. “I will be blunt. Did he succeed in forcing himself upon you?”

  “No,” said Caina.

  “Very well, then,” said Ephaeron. “Do you plan to bring charges against him?”

  Caina blinked. She hadn’t planned on it. After all, Countess Marianna Nereide did not actually exist. And neither she nor Halfdan wanted the kind of attention a trial before the magistrate would bring. But, then, Ephaeron didn’t know that, did he?”

  “My father will be furious when I tell him what happened,” said Caina. “He has always hated the Magisterium, for he considers you to be cruel, reckless, and full of hubris, and this will only confirm his opinion. He will insist upon bringing charges before an Imperial magistrate, perhaps even the Emperor himself. We are not a wealthy or a powerful House, learned m
aster, but our name is old in prestige. We will be heard.”

  “I see,” said Ephaeron. “The Magisterium can ill-afford embarrassment at this time. I propose a bargain.”

  “I’m listening,” said Caina.

  “You will not tell your father of the wrong done to you, and you will never speak of it to anyone,” said Ephaeron. “In exchange, we shall give you this.”

  He reached into his robes, produced a bulging leather purse, and set it on the arm of her chair. Caina tugged it open, and her eyes got wide. The purse was filled with platinum coins! A noble could live in comfort for thirty years off this kind of money. A common man could retire, and his descendents could live in ease for five or six generations.

  “This is a fortune,” said Caina.

  “The Magisterium is concerned with loftier matters than mere material goods,” said Ephaeron. “Let us continue to be candid. You went on a tour of the provinces to ensnare a wealthy husband with your beauty, did you not? It seems you have met with little success. These funds, however, can supply you with an ample dowry. You can then easily find a husband of suitable rank and social standing in Nighmar, or even in Malarae itself.”

  “This is…unexpected,” said Caina. “Why do you simply not use your magic to erase my memory?”

  Ephaeron seemed affronted. “To violate another’s mind without writ is a violation of Imperial law. Despite your opinion of the Magisterium, I would not do such a thing. And,” he shrugged, “in truth, you suffered injury at the hands of Kalastus. Perhaps this will serve as some recompense.”

  A magus with a conscience? Caina was astonished.

  “And suppose I do not take this bribe,” said Caina, “and tell my father anyway, and he brings charges against Kalastus. What will you do then?”

  “If you should choose such a foolish and unprofitable course,” said Ephaeron, “I shall do nothing. However, certain rumors will arise that you seduced Kalastus, became pregnant, purged your womb of his child, and now level false accusations against him to defend your honor. And since Imperial noblewomen in general are not known for their chastity or temperance, such a story will be easily believed, and your father’s charges against Kalastus will collapse.”