Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 08 - Ghost in the Mask (19 page)

Caina lifted one eyebrow. She had even dyed her eyebrows blond. Kylon vaguely wondered how much effort that took. “Have you ever infiltrated a city under a false identity before?”

“That is not a skill,” said Kylon, “included in the education of most Kyracian noblemen.”

“I thought not,” said Caina. “This is not a foe you can overcome with your sword, Kylon of House Kardamnos. Our wits shall have to be our sword and shield.”

“I would prefer,” said Kylon, “that my sword serve as my sword.”

“Which is why when we find whoever allowed Ephaltus to lay hands upon a Dustblade,” said Caina, “you can kill him.”

Corvalis opened the carriage’s door. He wore again the black plate armor of a captain of the Magisterial Guard, making him look lean and wolfish. “We have arrived, mistress. The physician awaits both you and Lord Milartes.”

“Good, captain,” said Caina in the cold tones of Rania Scorneus. Again Kylon was amazed at how thoroughly the Ghost changed her voice. Had he not known better, he would have sworn it was not the same woman speaking. Her emotional sense rippled, becoming colder, more focused. “Let us see what news Mistress Komnene has for us.” 

She descended from the coach, Kylon following. Muravin opened the door for her, and Caina and Kylon entered the physician’s shop. Ropes of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and jars lining the walls held powders and liquids. A worktable sagged beneath the weight of an apothecary’s tools. An old woman in a blue robe stood behind the table, sifting through some dried mushrooms and humming to herself.

Claudia Aberon stood next to her.

When Kylon had last seen her, Claudia had worn the gown and jewels of a merchant’s wealthy daughter, and had carried herself with the arrogance to match. Now she wore a faded blue dress and an apron with many pockets, her blond hair tied in a simple tail. Her emotional sense was…content, but wounded. A deep shame filled her, along with a measure of self-loathing.

Likely left over from the near-disaster in Catekharon.

“Lord Milartes,” said the old woman in the blue robe. “Welcome to my humble shop. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Yes,” said Corvalis, closing the shop door behind him. “She made sure to hide all her ships in the back room, lest you break them.” 

The old woman raised her eyebrows. “Caeria Ulterior is landlocked, captain. I am not sure what I would do with any ships if I had them.” She bowed in Kylon’s direction. “I am Komnene of Calvarium…and a few other places, as well. You already know my apprentice Claudia, I believe.”

“I do,” said Kylon, and Claudia bowed to him. A flicker of disquiet went through her emotional sense. He must have been an unpleasant reminder of Catekharon. 

“Milartes of House Aegios,” said Caina, “has agreed to help us, and we’ve acquired some other allies after the…unpleasantness last night.”

“What happened?” said Komnene. “I have heard all sorts of rumors.”

“I will tell you later,” said Caina. “Right now, we need to find a way into Lady Maena’s camp, because I suspect she has a method of entering Caer Magia.”

“What did you have in mind?” said Komnene.

“Plague,” said Caina.

Claudia’s eyes widened, and Komnene chuckled. “Surely you do not intend to spread plague among Maena’s men?” 

“Not at all,” said Caina. “But we are going to tell Lord Martin that one of Lady Maena’s men was found dead in an alley behind a tavern, dying from the weeping plague.”

Komnene frowned. “That is a most virulent plague, though it can be treated before the symptoms grow too severe. If an outbreak happened within the town’s walls, it could wipe out a third of the population within a week.” 

“Yes,” said Caina. “And that will give Lord Martin the excuse he needs to inspect Lady Maena’s camp.”

“If Lady Maena possesses a method of entering Caer Magia and surviving,” said Kylon, “will she not resist? It might come to violence.” Though with the aid of Talekhris and his Order, they might have a chance of winning that fight.

Assuming Talekhris’s arcane powers were match for Lady Maena. 

“Ah, but that’s the best part,” said Caina. “Lord Martin won’t be inspecting Maena’s camp itself. He’ll be inspecting Maena’s men with Komnene’s help, not the camp.”

“And that,” said Corvalis, “will give you the distraction you need to get into the camp and have a look around.”

“Precisely,” said Caina. 

“A bold plan,” said Komnene, “and a risky one.”

“It is,” said Caina, “but the greater risk is that one of the weapons of sorcery from inside Caer Magia falls into the hands of someone like Lady Maena.”

She said nothing of the Moroaica, and Kylon realized that neither Komnene nor Claudia knew about the ancient sorceress. It still chilled him to realize the Moroaica’s spirit had been inside Caina during the fighting at Marsis and Catekharon, that the creature who had corrupted Andromache had been staring out from behind Caina’s eyes the entire time. Of course, the Moroaica had not been able to control Caina.

Perhaps she had given up in the face of Caina’s unrelenting stubbornness. 

“I agree,” said Komnene. “We will need Lord Martin’s cooperation, of course.”

Caina nodded. “Telling him that a man has been found dead of the weeping plague will spur him to action.” 

“Perhaps we should tell him the truth,” said Komnene.

Caina frowned. “Why? I see little to gain from doing so. We need his cooperation, not his understanding.”

“Yet understanding can gain more sincere cooperation,” said Komnene. “If he thinks we are using him or lying to him, he will turn on us. Lord Martin is an untenable position. He has already suffered disgrace thanks to Lord Corbould, and now his province is on the verge of revolt. If we are not careful, he will see the Ghosts as another group of enemies bringing chaos to Caeria Ulterior.”

“He already said he would cooperate with the Magisterium,” said Caina. 

Komnene smiled. “He said that because no lord on his right mind wants to get on the Magisterium’s wrong side. The fact that your version of Rania Scorneus happens to be personally charming does not change that basic truth. If he comes to realize that we are manipulating him, he will refuse to cooperate. That could be disastrous at a critical time.”

Kylon half-expected Caina to take offense, but she only nodded. Her emotional sense grew colder as her mind focused upon the problem. “You may be right. What do you suggest, then? We need a distraction. It doesn’t matter what we do, so long as it allows us to have a look inside Lady Maena’s camp.”

Claudia hesitated, took a deep breath, and stepped to Komnene’s side.

“I have an idea,” she said.

###

An hour later, Claudia walked into the magistrates’ hall. Coals smoldered in the firepit, filling the hall with stark shadows. A pair of militia guards stood near the door, clad in chain mail and red tabards. 

“Excuse me,” said Claudia. “I must speak with the Lord Governor. I have a message from Mistress Komnene.”

One of the guards grunted. “This way.”

He led her across the gloomy hall to a narrow doorway near the dais. The hall had once been the seat of a mighty Caerish chieftain, but a Caerish chieftain’s hall did not have space for the various clerks and scribes that carried out the day-to-day business of an Imperial province. Some long-ago governor had built a barracks of concrete and brick next to the magistrates’ hall to house the clerks and scribes and seneschals as they went about their work. The guard led Komnene through a hall, up a flight of stairs, and to the Lord Governor’s study. 

Martin’s study looked as Claudia expected. Captured weapons and armor, both Arthagi and Istarish, hung from the walls. Lord Martin Dorius sat at his desk, writing a letter. Claudia wondered why he had not bothered to have a scribe take dictation. The windowed doors behind him opened onto a balcony with a view of Calvarium’s central square. 

“Lord Governor,” said the militiaman. “The physician’s apprentice has a message for you.”

Martin looked up from his letter and smiled. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I fear my message is grave, my lord,” said Claudia, “and Komnene bade to deliver it to your ears only.” 

Martin nodded at the guard, who bowed and left the study. 

“What is it?” said Martin.

Claudia’s heart hammered against her ribs, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. For a wild moment she wanted to change her mind, to turn and go back to Komnene. But it was too late to turn back.

It had been too late to go back, she supposed, ever since she had turned against her father.

“I fear, my lord,” said Claudia, “that I have not been entirely truthful with you. I am not who I said I am.”

“Are you?” said Martin, setting aside his pen and getting to his feet. He was smiling, but she saw a soldier’s wariness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you are really a Kindred assassin, come to kill me? I didn’t think Lord Corbould’s vindictiveness would extend quite that far.” 

“No,” said Claudia, “I am not an assassin of the Kindred, though I have known several of them. My real name, my lord, is Claudia Aberon.”

Martin frowned. “Claudia Aberon?” His eyes widened. “As in…Decius Aberon?”

Claudia nodded, watching his reaction.

“So you are an emissary of the First Magus?” said Martin.

“No,” said Claudia. “What I am is a failure.”

She had not intended to say that, but it came out anyway.

“I don’t understand,” said Martin.

“I worshipped my father as a child,” said Claudia, “but as I grew older I realized he was a cruel and brutal man. I tried to leave the Magisterium, and he had me imprisoned for over a year.” Ranarius had turned her to stone, but she didn’t think Martin would believe that. “The Ghosts rescued me.” 

“The Ghosts,” murmured Martin. “The Emperor’s spies? They are real?”

Claudia nodded. “They gave me a position of trust…and I failed. I failed badly. Thousands of people almost died, because of my error. The Ghosts did not expel me, but instead they sent me here.”

“To Calvarium,” said Martin, “where exiles are sent to languish.”

“Yes,” said Claudia. “I thought I might have a knack for medicine, so the circlemasters sent me to study under Komnene. It seemed…it seemed a good choice for my life. The Ghosts have kept a circle in Calvarium since the end of the Fourth Empire, watching to see if anyone could entered Caer Magia or if anyone returned from it, but no one ever did.”

“And then, all of a sudden,” said Martin, “the cult of Anubankh and the Dustblades appear. And the exiles find the hinterlands are not as quiet as they thought.”

“Which is why,” said Claudia, “I have come to ask for your help.”

Martin laughed, shook his head, and sat on the edge of his desk.

“That is a fantastic story,” said Martin. “What am I to make of it? Is Komnene truly even a physician?”

“She is an excellent physician, one of the best in the Empire,” said Claudia. “I am honored to study under her. And, yes, she is also a Ghost of rank. She came here to retire, as I understand.”

“By practicing as a physician,” said Martin, voice dry.

Claudia shrugged. “Does Komnene seem the sort of woman to sit idle? And she truly is a physician, my lord. The best cover story is one that is actually true.”

“I imagine so,” said Martin. He gazed at the ceiling. “A fantastical story.”

“You do not believe me?” said Claudia.

“I shouldn’t,” said Martin, “but I do. It rings true. I always thought you were more than you seemed, Claudia Aberon. I would have sworn you were the daughter of a high noble, but the daughters of high nobility do not become physicians’ apprentices. You can cast spells, I suppose?”

Claudia nodded, lifted her hand, and whispered a phrase. Her will reached out, and one of the spiked Istarish helmets on the shelves floated into the air. Claudia let it rise a few feet, spun it around, and returned it to the shelf.

Martin snorted. “So you can cast spells. If you do that in the square, you might earn a few silver coins. Or send half the town to running in terror.” He thought for a moment. “If you are truly a Ghost, you have just put a great deal of trust in me. If Komnene is your circlemaster, I could have you both arrested and cripple Calvarium’s Ghost circle.”

“I know,” said Claudia.

He seemed puzzled. “Then why come to me?”

“Because,” said Claudia, “I believe you are a good and decent man.”

“You shouldn’t, you know,” said Martin. “Perhaps I believe you because I, too, am a failure.”

Claudia shook her head. “Lord Corbould sent you here because you irritated him, not because…”

“He was right to do it,” said Martin. “He stripped my command because I failed to support his son Conn during the fighting in the Argamaz. Conn is an arrogant ass, aye, I’ll not deny that. But I didn’t defy him because of that. I thought his tactics were wrong. But he was right, and several hundred Legionaries died because of my misjudgment.” 

“Men die in war,” said Claudia. It sounded like the sort of thing her father would have said.

“Aye,” said Martin, “but those men died needlessly, because of my folly.”

“If we are both failures,” said Claudia, “then let us resolve not to fail again. My lord, what is happening here is more important than any mistakes I made or any battle in the Argamaz Desert.” He frowned, no doubt annoyed that she would dismiss the memory of the dead Legionaries, but she kept talking. “Hundreds might have died because of your decision…but uncounted thousands will perish if the things in Caer Magia come into the sunlight again.”

“Do you think I am unaware of that?” demanded Martin. “I know my history. I know what the magi of the Fourth Empire were like. I ought to arrest Maena and Anashir and drive the cultists of Anubankh from the hills. Yet I have neither the men nor the resources to act.”

“The Ghosts share your goals,” said Claudia, “and perhaps stealth will succeed where soldiers cannot.”

“You wish me to oppose Rania Scorneus, then?” said Martin.

“No,” said Claudia. “My lord, I will not lie. If my father can reach the secrets of Caer Magia, he will take them. But the Magisterium has its factions and cabals, just as the nobles of the Empire do. And Rania may support the First Magus in public, but she is part of a faction opposed to him. She has no wish to see the secrets of Caer Magia come to light.”