Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) (13 page)

Callatas shifted, his gaze fixed upon Cassander. 

“And did you find her?” said Erghulan.

“Indeed I did,” said Cassander. “I tracked her to a town named Rumarah, a den of smugglers on the coast of the Alqaarin Sea.”

“I have heard of it, yes,” said Erghulan in a dry tone. 

“There we fought,” said Cassander. “Her reputation for cunning was well-deserved, and I took the injuries which are obvious to your eyes.” He gestured with his black-armored hand, the red bloodcrystal on the back of the gauntlet flashing. “Yet in the end she took refuge at an inn, and I burned it down around her. I watched her burn alive before my eyes. Caina Amalas is dead, Grand Wazir. The Balarigar has been slain.” He smiled, the damage to his face making the expression look grisly. “Perhaps you ought to summon the cowled masters to the Golden Palace, so they may rejoice to learn that the lone woman who almost brought Istarinmul to its knees has been slain at last.”

“Do not presume to command me,” said Erghulan. “I am the Grand Wazir of Istarinmul.”

The rebuke should have stung. Yet Cassander only smiled. He looked…eager.

Almost hungry, really. 

“Do forgive my impertinence, noble Grand Wazir,” said Cassander. “Alas, my enthusiasm is simply overflowing.”

“These claims you bring before the Grand Wazir,” said Callatas, speaking for the first time. His voice was dry, dusty, scholarly, and put Claudia in mind of some of the libraries she had visited in the Empire. “Do you offer proof?” 

“Ample proof,” said Cassander. He beckoned, and one of the Adamant Guards stepped forward, holding a bundle of cloth. Cassander unwrapped the bundle, and Claudia caught a glimpse of silvery metal. “Behold.”

Cassander lifted a dark, rippling shape from the cloth, and Claudia did her best not to flinch. It was a cloak of strange dark fabric that seemed to blur and shift, trying to merge with the shadows. Claudia had seen a cloak like that many times before.

“The shadow-cloak of a Ghost nightfighter,” said Cassander, “once worn by Caina Amalas.” He lifted a gleaming dagger of ghostsilver from the bundle, the same ghostsilver dagger that Claudia had seen Caina use. “And a ghostsilver dagger, both of which were carried by Caina Amalas before I killed her.”

Callatas scowled. “That dagger was stolen from my library.”

“By the Balarigar,” said Cassander. He tossed the weapon to himself and caught it by the hilt. “I found it when I killed her. You are welcome to have it back, if you wish.”

“So you claim to have killed the Balarigar,” said Erghulan. “Well and good. How very civic-minded of you. I suppose you are here to claim the reward?”

“The two million bezants?” said Cassander. “I confess I might think of a use or two for the money, my lord, but I have no need of the coin. No, I have something else in mind for my reward.”

“And that is?” said Erghulan, his voice low and dangerous. 

“The simple fulfillment of your promise,” said Cassander, his eyes turning toward Callatas. “I have rid you of the Balarigar. I ask that you open the Starfall Straits to the Umbarian fleet, my lord Wazir. Simply let the fleet of the Order pass. We do not ask for aid in our war to restore sound governance to the Empire. We do not ask for provisions or weapons or troops or support. Simply let our fleet pass, and you shall have the lasting friendship of the Order. Our goodwill has already rid you of the Balarigar. What else might our friendship accomplish?” 

For a moment Erghulan said nothing, his face hard. Claudia waited, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Uncounted lives hung on what the Grand Wazir might say next. Erghulan glanced to the side, and Callatas offered him a shallow nod.

A fresh wave of dread went through Claudia. Callatas had decided to keep his bargain. The Umbarian fleet would attack Malarae, and…

“Where is the body?” said Erghulan. 

Claudia blinked. 

“The body?” repeated Cassander.

“The corpse of Caina Amalas,” said Erghulan. “I wish to look upon this woman who has caused us so much trouble.” 

“She is ashes,” said Cassander. “She burned in Rumarah.”

“Ah,” said Erghulan. “How very convenient.” 

“I offer proof,” said Cassander.

“A dagger and a cloak,” said Erghulan. “Those could have come from anywhere.” 

“Are you saying,” said Cassander, “that I am lying?”

“I think,” said Erghulan, “that you are trying to defraud the Padishah’s magistrates, my lord Cassander. I think you failed to kill the Balarigar at all, and I have even greater doubt that one foreign woman could have caused all this trouble. I think you are trying to drag Istarinmul into the petty war between the Emperor and the Order. Istarinmul has enough troubles of its own, my lord Cassander. We require none of yours.”

Cassander lifted his chin. “Then you are calling me a liar, my lord Wazir?”

“Did you fail to notice?” said Erghulan. “I shall be blunt. You will not gain military aid for Umbarian Order by passing this…this ridiculous fraud upon us, Cassander Nilas. The Padishah will not take sides in the Empire’s civil war, and that is all there is to say upon the matter.” 

A quiver of relief went through Claudia. Her husband had been right. Callatas’s own treacherous nature had defeated Cassander’s ambitions. For herself, Claudia had no doubt that Caina was dead. Yet she realized that the actual death did not matter. Even if Cassander had dumped Caina’s body at Erghulan’s feet, Callatas would have still reneged on the agreement. 

Martin had been right. The question was, of course, how Cassander would react to this betrayal. 

She looked at Cassander, expecting to see rage, to see cold, affronted pride. 

Instead, the Umbarian magus looked…pleased. Gleeful, even. Again she was reminded of the way that Sicarion had looked as he killed, the perverse delight that had filled the scarred necromancer’s features. 

“So,” said Cassander, “it is time for blunt speaking, is it? I am glad to hear it, and I thank you for the harsh words, Erghulan Amirasku. I would speak with the ruler of Istarinmul now.” 

Erghulan stepped forward, his anger plain. “I am the ruler of Istarinmul. In the name of our noble Padishah, of course. But I am the ruler of…”

Cassander laughed, mocking and loud. “Indeed, Erghulan? So might a puppet painted to be a king think that he is the true master of the kingdom, heedless of the strings upon his arms. For you are a puppet, and your puppeteer’s arm is so far up your rear that I am surprised that you do not taste his fingers upon your tongue.” 

“You will retract that insult,” snarled Erghulan, “or I shall have you…”

“Grand Master Callatas!” said Cassander. “Why don’t you step forth and speak plainly? We all know that you are the true ruler of Istarinmul. After all, Erghulan and the Brotherhood of Slavers have so devotedly carried out your policies that they have driven all the southern emirs and many of the northern ones to rebellion against the Grand Wazir.” 

Callatas said nothing, contempt upon his expression. 

“Come now, my noble lords,” said Cassander, gesturing to the crowd of emirs and ambassadors and bodyguards. “Would you not like to know the truth?”

“Umbarian,” roared Erghulan, “you will be…”

“The reason for the civil war is quite simple,” said Cassander. “Callatas has been producing wraithblood in great quantities. Alas, wraithblood can only be made from the blood of a murdered man, so the Brotherhood obtained vast numbers of slaves for him, which he then murdered to produce the drug to addict the poor of Istarinmul. The Balarigar disrupted this cozy little arrangement with her campaign of terror against the Brotherhood, and all of Callatas’s servants could not rid him of Caina Amalas. So he made a deal with me – if I killed the Balarigar, he would open the Straits to the Umbarian fleet. Alas! The Alchemists are known for their powers of transmutation, but it seems that not even alchemy could transmute the word of Grand Master Callatas into something valuable.”

Shocked murmurs rose up from the crowd, some of them angry. Many of the emirs looked at Erghulan and Callatas, fear and disgust on their faces. There were already countless dark rumors about Callatas. The man had destroyed Iramis, boasted of it openly, had even commissioned a mural showing him lifting the Star of Iramis and using its power to murder hundreds of thousands of people. It was not a far leap to believe such a man would murder slaves to feed their enspelled blood to his own people for some dark purpose.

Especially since every single one of Cassander’s accusations were true. 

“What is he doing?” said Martin. “Is he trying to provoke a fight with Callatas right here?”

“I don’t know,” said Claudia. Certainly Erghulan looked furious, but the cold fury of Callatas seemed more dangerous by far. “Husband, if…if he does, if Cassander and Callatas start casting spells at once another, we must run. A sorcerous contest between them would destroy the Court of the Fountain and kill everyone within.” 

“Men,” said Martin to the Imperial Guards, “be ready to cut your way out. If Cassander and the Grand Master begin fighting…”

“Well?” said Cassander. “What do you have to say, old man?”

Callatas drew himself up. “Everything I have done has been for the greater good. Nothing I have done requires forgiveness, regret…or explanation to my inferiors.” 

“Truly?” said Cassander. “It seems that Tanzir Shahan and his allies would disagree. Perhaps they would welcome the assistance of the Order.”

“Enough,” said Callatas. “Erghulan, deal with this. Now.”

“Cassander Nilas,” said Erghulan, his face dark with fury. “You are hereby banished from Istarinmul, and the Umbarian embassy is expelled from the realm of the Padishah. You shall have one week to gather your possessions and servants and be gone from Istarinmul. Should you remain in the city after that time, your servants and soldiers shall be sold into slavery, your property seized, and you shall be executed as an enemy of the Padishah.” 

“Do be silent, puppet,” said Cassander. He looked at Callatas. “Come, Grand Master. Speak to me directly. No need to use a mouthpiece.”

“Get out of my sight,” said Callatas, his voice cold and deadly, “and if I ever see you again, you will curse your mother for the day your birth.” 

“Ah.” Cassander smiled. “Plain speaking at last. Very refreshing. Farewell, my lords. By the way, Erghulan? Your hunting stories were the very essence of boredom. Listening to a man take credit for the kills of his slaves is the uttermost exercise in tedium…”

That did it.

Erghulan roared in rage, drew his scimitar, and stalked forward, the weapon raised. Cassander grinned and lifted his armored right hand, flames dancing over the black metal of his gauntlet. The Immortals hesitated, and then started after Erghulan, drawing their scimitars or their chain whips. The Adamant Guards spread around Cassander, lifting their weapons.

“Go,” said Martin. “To the gate, quickly.” He reached for his sword. “Protect Lady Claudia. I…”

The Grand Master’s voice exploded over the Court like a thunderclap. 

“Enough!” 

Everyone froze. Cassander stood motionless, smirking, the flames still swirling around his gauntlet.

“Depart with your life,” said Callatas, “and be grateful I have permitted you that much.” 

Cassander gestured, and the flames vanished from his gauntlet. He offered an exaggerated, mocking bow to the Grand Master and the Grand Wazir, and then turned and strode for the gate. The Adamant Guards followed him, and the Umbarians vanished into the street. 

Claudia let out a long breath, quivery, fluttering fear filling her stomach.

“Has he gone mad?” she said.

“I don’t know,” said Martin.

“He…he just handed us victory,” said Claudia. “There is no way Istarinmul will ever allow the Umbarian fleet through the Straits. Even if Callatas is pulling the strings, Cassander just insulted him. He will never permit Istarinmul to offer even the slightest crumb of aid to the Umbarians now.”

Martin nodded, still gripping the hilt of his sword. 

“Then why,” said Claudia, “did Cassander look so pleased?” 

“Gods, I don’t know,” said Martin. He sheathed his sword and raked a hand through his hair. “These are deep waters, wife. I wish more than ever that Caina were here. She had a talent for digging the truth out.” Claudia nodded. “She left us directions on how to contact the other members of Istarinmul’s circle if she were slain. Perhaps it is time to do so. We need to discover what Cassander plans to do…”

“Husband,” said Claudia.

An Immortal walked towards them, a towering figure in black armor, and the Imperial Guards tensed. 

“Lord Martin Dorius,” said the Immortal.

“I am,” said Martin. 

“The Grand Master requires your presence,” said the Immortal. “Your wife shall accompany you.”

“He does?” said Martin. “Why?”

“The Grand Master requires your presence,” said the Immortal in that dead metallic voice. “You and your wife shall come with me. Now.” 

Claudia looked at Martin.

“We shall of course be honored to speak with the Grand Master,” said Martin, taking Claudia’s arm. Claudia swallowed her fear and nodded. If Callatas had decided to kill them, he wouldn’t bother sending an Immortal with an invitation. She walked with Martin to the fountain, the Immortal leading the way. Erghulan stood some distance away, ranting at the other emirs, who nodded at his every word. Evidently the Grand Wazir did not appreciate having his prowess as a hunter questioned. Callatas stood motionless near the base of the fountain, a white shadow against the churning waters. The Grand Master turned his head at his approach, and Claudia was struck by how old he seemed. 

How old, and how…arrogant, as if contempt had been written into the deep lines of his face. 

“Grand Master,” said Martin, offering a deep bow. “You wished to speak with me?”

The Grand Master acknowledged Martin with a shallow nod, and then his cold gray eyes turned to Claudia. “You are pregnant.”

Claudia hesitated. This was the man who had created wraithblood, who had murdered slaves in his laboratories, who had killed hundreds of thousands of people in Iramis. This was the man who had sent the Red Huntress after Caina, nearly getting Claudia and Martin killed in the process. What was she supposed to say to him? Denounce him for his appalling crimes? Play along in hopes that he would reveal useful information?