Ghost in the Hunt (8 page)

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.

“He doesn’t want war,” said Caina, “so he can focus upon his Apotheosis and the production of wraithblood.” She looked at them both. “What I am about to tell you will put you in danger. If Callatas has the slightest notion that you know the truth, he will likely have you killed.”

“What truth is that?” said Martin.

“This is about the wraithblood, isn’t it?” said Claudia. “The things you were telling me.”

Caina hesitated. “I started to tell Claudia before you arrived. You saw the wraithblood addicts on the streets?” Martin nodded. “Callatas makes the wraithblood from the blood of murdered slaves. He has murdered tens of thousands of slaves over the last six or seven years and created wraithblood from their deaths, which he then distributes among the population of Istarinmul.”

“But why go to such expense and effort?” said Martin. “The wraithblood addicts are harmless, confused men and women.” 

“He is working on something,” said Caina. “Something he calls the Apotheosis. I don’t know what it is. But he has a pact with the nagataaru.”

“I’ve heard that word before,” said Claudia. “My father mentioned it during his discussions with Ranarius. Some kind of spirit…”

“A kingdom of malevolent spirits from the netherworld,” said Caina. “Most of the spirits of the netherworld have no interest in mortals. The nagataaru are different. They regard mortals as prey, can feast upon pain and torment to make themselves stronger. I don’t know why Callatas has a pact with them, or what he intends to achieve. But I have seen his wraithblood laboratories. He is preparing a sorcerous catastrophe on the level of the golden dead. He has to be stopped.”

Martin and Claudia shared a look.

“That explains the rumors,” said Martin.

“What rumors?” said Caina.

“About the Balarigar,” said Martin. “You have caused more disruption than you know. Istarinmul is the center of the slave trade for a dozen nations, and the slave traders of Istarinmul are living in fear. After your exploits in Marsis and New Kyre, there were already rumors of the Balarigar circulating throughout the Empire. Now rumor claims the slave traders of Istarinmul are terrified of the Balarigar. Consequently the price of slaves has trebled or even quadrupled in every nation that permits slavery.”

“Good,” said Caina with more heat than she intended. She hated slave traders, and her experiences with Istarinmul’s Brotherhood had only hardened her feelings. “But that is only a pleasant side benefit. Without a steady stream of slaves to murder, Callatas cannot create new wraithblood. He cannot work his Apotheosis without a steady supply of wraithblood.”

“The Umbarians deal in slaves,” said Martin. “As you might expect, they have reinstituted slavery in the provinces they rule. Anything that weakens the Slavers’ Brotherhood of Istarinmul is to the Empire’s advantage, but we have more immediate concerns. It seems I will meet with the Grand Wazir, but I must persuade this villain Callatas to stay out of the war. How shall I do that?”

“Callatas does not want another war,” said Caina. “He wants stability and order so he can work his Apotheosis without interruption. He wanted to avoid the first war with the Empire for precisely that reason, but Rezir Shahan had enough prestige to persuade the nobles otherwise. If you can give him enough reasons to stay out of the war, he will do so.”

“Of course,” said Claudia, “your own actions might force Istarinmul into the war.” 

“How?” said Caina. 

“All your games with the slavers,” said Claudia with a flick of her hand. “You terrorized them. You’ve driven up the price of slaves, made it harder for the Brotherhood to find new ones. Well and good. But all you’ve done is make them desperate. Callatas needs a fresh supply of slaves to make wraithblood, you say? The Umbarians have more slaves then they need. Perhaps Cassander will offer them to the Brotherhood in exchange for aid against the Empire.”

Caina opened her mouth, closed it again. 

She…hadn’t thought of that.

“Considering how the last war went for Istarinmul,” said Martin, “that is a tremendous risk to take for a few slaves.” 

“The Empire was stronger before the war,” said Caina, “and it was not fighting the Umbarians. Callatas might do it, but if the Empire is in poor condition, Istarinmul’s is worse. The Padishah has not been seen in public for years. There are bandits and brigands in the countryside, and if Erghulan marches against the Empire, half of the emirs might decide to stay home. If Istarinmul does go to war, the Shahenshah of Anshan and the sultans of Alqaarin might decide to attack while the Padishah’s soldiers are focused upon the Empire. Callatas could gain the slaves he needs if Istarinmul allies with the Order, but he might lose much more if the Shahenshah’s army marches into Istarinmul.” 

“Then our course is clear,” said Martin. “We must persuade Callatas that he has more to lose by joining the war than by staying out of it.”

“And that if Istarinmul remains neutral,” said Claudia, “he will have a free hand to deal with his problems here.” She looked at Caina and raised her eyebrows. “You are chief of those problems, I imagine. I saw the proclamations nailed to every door in the city. Two million bezants for your death or capture? With that kind of money, Callatas could buy an entire city’s worth of slaves.”

“Not any more,” murmured Martin, “given how the price of slaves has risen.” 

“You meet with the Grand Wazir in three days, you say?” said Caina, hoping to forestall another argument with Claudia. 

“Aye,” said Martin. “A banquet at the Golden Palace, offered by the Grand Wazir in honor of the ambassadors from the Empire and the Order. I can bring a number of guests, and I wish for you to be among them.” Claudia frowned, but said nothing. “With your skill at observation, you might notice something of importance. We need every advantage that we can find.”

“The dead Silent Hunters might help with that,” said Caina. “I suspect the Grand Wazir will take it amiss if an ambassador tries to murder a rival upon Istarish soil.”