Old Man's Ghosts (11 page)

Without Kashte and his small cadre of young Imperials, many more of Narin’s comrades would be dead and the group had extended their strange sense of comradeship to Narin. He couldn’t fathom whether they considered him one of them or were just under the thumb of the same man. Narin remained unsure which idea he preferred, but he was painfully aware of his need for allies, the way his life was going.

He followed Prince Kashte and almost groaned with pleasure at the warmth within as the door was shut behind him. The building was a two-storey square block with too many exposed walls, but a large iron stove stood in the centre of the room with what looked like half a wagon’s worth of coal in tall baskets beside the door. A mezzanine covered half of the interior while below that was an iron-bound cellar door at a steep angle to the floor, currently closed.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d be here, Prince Kashte,’ Narin said hesitantly as he looked at who else was there.

There were three large desks on the lower floor, two in use with the third enough of a mess to be clear Kashte had been working there. The other two people at the desks were also Imperials – a man and a woman he didn’t recognise, gold on their collars and the intricacies of current fashion obvious in their clothes. Exactly what they were doing he couldn’t tell, but each one had a stack of massive leather-bound books on their desk alongside a mass of scrolls and papers. Narin took a step to get a closer look but Kashte neatly manoeuvred himself into the way before he could see anything.

‘History is a relentless master,’ Kashte said with a small smile, ‘it cares nothing for the weather outside.’

‘Your master, eh?’ Narin mused, ‘I hadn’t realised your devotion was so complete.’

Not wanting to make himself unwelcome, Narin gave up on the strange sight of Imperial castes hard at work like common scribes and instead struggled out of his greatcoat, which was fast creating puddles on the flagstone floor.

‘They are assisting me,’ called a voice as one heavy cellar door began to open.

It moved only slowly because it was six inches thick and reinforced with iron rods, but at last the thin face of Prince Ayel Sorote appeared from behind it.

‘I am writing a history of the Empire, but the sheer weight of source material is too great for one man alone.’

Not much older than Narin, Prince Sorote affected the air of a middle-aged academic, dressing far more conservatively than his younger assistants. He still wore the gold collar of his caste, but forwent most of the detailing on their clothes and glittering jewellery. Even now Narin was reminded of their first meeting; the unassuming man waiting for him at his home who interrupted a day of murder and violence with veiled threats of his own. Narin was still unsure what to make of Prince Sorote more than half a year later, but for a man who held Narin’s life in the palm of his hand, the Imperial had been remarkably helpful in the aftermath of the goshe affair.

‘So you ask members of your own caste to assist you?’ Narin asked, astonished at the idea. Imperials were hardly known for putting in a hard day’s work and much of the labour, he assumed, would be monstrously dull.

‘The religious caste have a rather narrow outlook on the world,’ Sorote replied, ‘they lack ambition and understanding. By contrast, the education of any Imperial caste must be of the highest order. We can hardly deal with the intricacies of the Empire and all the various nations within it without a rounded knowledge and the sophistication of thought to apply it fully.’

Narin, whose own education was far more limited than that of the religious caste, wasn’t sure what to say in response, but Prince Sorote didn’t seem to be expecting one as he reached Narin.

‘Now, my friend, how are you?’

The Lawbringer gave a sour laugh. ‘Well, this morning I was picking through the torn-apart remains of a man, which took me to an underground pagan temple and an ambush outside it.’

Prince Sorote blinked. ‘So this is not a social call?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘In that case, Suner, Verrey – might you give us some privacy?’

Sorote half-turned to the Imperials Narin didn’t know as they looked up from their work and nodded. Narin watched the pair stow their pens on polished inkstands and rise without a word – no emotion on their faces that the Lawbringer could discern, but that spoke enough of their relationship.

While Sorote might well be a higher-ranked member of the sprawling Imperial family, to almost dismiss them in that way spoke of something greater than age or rank. One hoisted up a large book from his pile and together they headed to the cellar door from which Sorote had come.

Narin had never been down there himself, but he’d seen enough to know it wasn’t just a storeroom through those reinforced doors. That the bolts were on the outside was curious enough, but he had no intention of giving Sorote the satisfaction of ignoring his questions on the subject.

Before long the door was shut behind them and the three were alone in the small building. Narin pointedly looked at Kashte, but Sorote just directed him up the mezzanine stair to where his own desk was situated.

‘A drink, Lawbringer? I for one believe a toast is in order. You may speak freely in front of Prince Kashte – he is my deputy here in the Office of the Catacombs and proving himself a most able historian.’

Narin looked at the polished guns holstered at Kashte’s waist and remembered what Rhe had told him of the attack on Confessor’s Island. Not only was the young man a highly-trained fighter, he wasn’t some duellist. He had the hard manner of a veteran soldier – something that prompted only more questions, given that Imperials never went into battle. Exactly what it was in the historical records or Sorote’s catacombs that required such honed skills remained a mystery.

‘A toast?’

‘Indeed. We’ve not heard any happy news from across the Crescent, but in this case I choose to interpret that as a good thing. If the city was told an heir to a Wyvern lord had been born, one might fear for any news of the mother that followed. If you are here and there is no news, well, it might be events took an unexpected turn. Scandal travels more slowly in the cold, I have found.’

A beautifully-cut glass tumbler was pushed into Narin’s hands and a healthy measure of some golden spirit poured in. The two Imperials raised their own glasses, the curl of a smirk on Prince Kashte’s lips as Sorote spoke.

‘To fatherhood – a child new to the world.’

Narin remained too stunned to move or speak as the other men drank.

‘You will not drink with us?’ Kashte asked quietly after a moment of Narin staring at them.

‘I, ah – I mean no disrespect,’ Narin said, ‘but to hear you state it so plainly …’ His words failed him but Sorote nodded with understanding.

‘My friend – forget it all for the moment.’ He clinked his glass against Narin’s and nodded towards it. ‘Forget the danger, forget the scandal and anything else that’s to come. I know your secret, Kashte also. Before anything else, any bargaining or manipulation, let us just first take a moment to be men.’

‘I … what?’ Narin remembered only too well Sorote’s pleasure that not only did he have an affair with a married high caste to hold over Narin, but there would be a child to serve as evidence too.

Sorote smiled. ‘The child, a boy or a girl?’

‘Girl.’

‘Her name?’

‘Dov.’

That prompted a snort from Kashte. ‘Lady Chance’s given name? I like that. Are you hoping for the Ascendant’s favour?’

‘Kine chose it, but it’s fitting I think. Her life will be uncertain from the start – chance brought Kine and I together, chance’ll determine whether any of us survive.’

‘I suppose so. To little Dov then – Lawbringer Narin, I congratulate you.’

This time Narin did drink with them, swallowing down half the smooth, faintly sweet spirit. It was like none he’d ever tasted, no doubt nothing most Lawbringers could ever afford.

‘Thank you,’ Narin forced himself to say. ‘I suppose you’ve guessed why I’ve come, then?’

‘It wasn’t to give your friends the happy news in person? I’m saddened.’

‘Today’s been a bit too busy for that, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, really?’

Narin nodded. ‘I know I’m in your debt and that’s not the best way to come asking for another favour, but there’s other news you might be interested in too.’

Sorote raised an eyebrow at Kashte and gestured to the armchairs arranged before his desk. ‘By all means sit, then, tell us the tale of your day.’

Narin did so and took another mouthful of his drink before continuing, feeling a flood of warmth enter his belly and drive out the chill of the failing day.

‘You’ve had a hold over me for a while now,’ he began with a slight hesitancy. It was true Prince Sorote had known of Narin’s affair with Kine and held it over him, but still Narin was uncomfortable baldly stating how much he was in the power of another man.

‘One that may have evaporated now,’ Sorote commented, ‘but let it be noted that I never exerted or abused said hold.’

Narin raised a hand. ‘I know – I wasn’t accusing you there, it is what it is. Or was, maybe. The Gods above know I’ve no cause to complain about what you’ve done with the information. I might not understand why but right now … well, what’s the phrase – I’m counting Jester’s blessings? However, you’d said that you would be willing to assist me. I know it puts me back in your debt, but given what little you’ve asked of me these past few months that’s a price worth paying.’

‘I am prepared to offer assistance,’ Sorote said slowly, putting down his drink. ‘However, what I’d asked of you has been less than fruitful, if you remember. A brief essay on the fox-spirits and the varying orders of demons is all I have to show for my benevolence. History is not an easy master, remember? And while it may be patient, it has limits.’

‘I understand, and I have other news. You asked to be kept informed of unusual crimes within the city – if I was a betting man I’d say you were the one who suggested such crimes fell under my and Rhe’s purview.’

Kashte leaned forward. ‘My advice, you don’t become a betting man,’ he said with a cold smile, ‘your luck might’ve held out thus far, but I don’t think you’re cut out for going toe-to-toe with Lady Chance.’

Despite everything, Narin laughed. ‘Don’t worry, gambling’s the last thing on my mind! You’re not the only one surprised my luck hasn’t got me killed yet.’

‘You were about to keep me informed of something?’ Sorote interjected.

‘Yes – it’s too early to give you much more than an idea of what’s involved, but you’ll be interested for sure. At worst I think you’ll get a sense of the shamans in the city and how that hidden side of life fits between ours and that of the demons.’

‘And at best?’

Narin scowled. ‘Not sure entirely, but we’re investigating a murder, two in fact.’

‘Murderers are not that unusual, despite the efforts of your brethren.’

‘I know, but the victims were killed by a hellhound. From what I can tell, those don’t just crawl out of the Crescent at night – they’re summoned from a realm of demons, and that means there’s someone in the city doing the summoning.’

Sorote leaned forward. ‘You have my attention, Lawbringer.’

‘Now, I don’t know what your interest is exactly, but I’m guessing whoever’s behind this you’d be happy to kill, kidnap or steal from. We’ve only just started looking for whoever did it, but given the mess that was made I don’t think we’ll find Astaren at the end of this path. The victims were innocents so far as we can see. If you’re the ones to punish what went on instead of the Lawbringers, that’s a betrayal small enough for me to live with.’

‘Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t try to guess my motives,’ Sorote said gravely. ‘Your expertise is dealing with criminals, after all. I would not wish you to think me petty or self-serving.’

‘My apologies, I hadn’t meant that – I just wanted to be clear that, given the information you’ve asked me to gather, there’s still some value in protecting me.’

‘And protect you I will, my friend, in so far as I am able. The Imperial caste is trained to mediate and negotiate – once Lord Vanden returns to the city, something I expect to happen very soon, I will approach him on your behalf. As I intimated previously, I believe I have a solution to his concerns.’

‘What about Kine’s family?’ Narin asked with a grimace. ‘A group of them already tried to kill Rhe and myself earlier today.’

‘They have come over from House Wyvern’s lands even before the birth?’ Sorote frowned. ‘I hadn’t expected Lord Vanden to have the balls – ahem, so to speak – to demand their involvement. Wyvern custom gives him that right, of course, being the higher-ranked party, but it is surprising. Warriors on a blood feud I cannot negotiate with, but perhaps Kashte would be willing to watch your back? Even when honour demands your blood, they will hesitate to draw on a gold collar.’

Narin shook his head before the minor prince could comment. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already got Irato doing that. The man might not be subtle, but I should probably try to limit the chaos I’ve caused. I don’t think getting an Imperial caste caught up in fighting on the streets is the way to do that.’

‘It seems there is still hope for your political acumen,’ Sorote said. ‘So, Master Lawbringer – I would offer you another drink, but I suspect there is someone you would like to get back to.’

‘You’re right. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Are you … are you sure Vanden will be willing to negotiate?’

‘Of course,’ Sorote said with a smile. ‘He’s a nobleman and a relatively minor one at that. A Wyvern such as Vanden considers his influence, wealth and honour in all things. It will simply be a case of listening to his bluster and offering him something of greater worth than the bride he has lost. Lady Kine will never be able to show her face in polite society of course, she will have to enter the House of the Sun with a black mark on her caste tattoo, but neither of you are fools. You know the consequences of staying in the city and you’ve made no suggestion that you might flee.’

Narin stood stiffly. ‘We’re aware of what it means.’

‘Then so long as you can keep a measure of discretion, the situation can be managed with none of you dying. Her patronage in the Imperial House will be dependent upon you however, am I clear?’