Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) (39 page)

“You were saying?” said Nasser. 

“Fine,” said Morgant. “You distract the second one. The Kyracian and I will deal with the first one.” 

Kylon nodded and raised the valikon, and Caina drew a throwing knife, though she knew the weapon would do no good. 

The cataphracti charged, the undead Legionaries running before them.

###

Kylon took a deep breath, drawing upon as much of the sorcery of storm and wind as he could manage. 

Then he shot forward, charging into the mass of the undead Legionaries.

The valikon flashed with white light in his hand and he struck, the sword swinging right and left with terrific speed. The undead soldiers wore the typical armor of Imperial Legionaries, a steel cuirass over a layer of chain mail, but there were gaps, and he drove the valikon into those gaps. He did not need to keep the sword there for long, just long enough for the ghostsilver blade to disrupt the necromantic power. It was enough to send the undead things collapsing to the ground, their spells broken. Kylon carved a path through them, but more of the undead Legionaries surged around him as he charged.

Hopefully Caina and Nasser and the others could deal with them.

A cataphractus thundered towards him, the ground shaking with every massive step. In its right hand it held a club the size of a tree trunk, its length banded in iron, and raised the weapon. Kylon waited until the last moment and jumped aside, the club thundering to the ground. He swept the valikon down, the ghostsilver blade flashing between the armor plates upon the creature’s arm to sink into the raw, reeking flesh. There was a harsh sizzling sound as the valikon carved a smoking wound into the corrupted flesh, and the cataphractus let out a metallic snarl. Kylon ripped the valikon free as the cataphractus straightened for a second blow, and as he did, Morgant darted behind the cataphractus and lashed at its right knee with his black dagger. The blade sliced through the armor plating without noticeable resistance, the edges of the metal glowing white-hot. The cataphractus turned towards Morgant, raising its club, and Kylon struck, aiming the valikon for a gap in the armor. 

The huge creature whirled, and Kylon had to duck, the top of the club missing his head by maybe three inches. He jumped back, and as he did, he saw the second cataphractus draw nearer. Kylon didn’t dare split his attention between two of the creatures at once…

White fire lanced across the Bazaar, and Annarah cast a spell into the second cataphractus, the creature staggering under the assault. For an instant Kylon hoped her power would be enough to dispel the necromantic aura upon it, but the undead thing loosed a furious roar and charged, turning towards her. 

Morgant lashed at the first cataphractus’s leg again, and Kylon continued his attack.

###

Caina braced herself, preparing to dodge the attacks of the charging undead Legionaries. She drew daggers in either hand, ready to parry or dodge as the attack required, her muscles tensing as she made herself ready to move…

The undead ran right past her, making for Annarah as Nasser and Laertes fell back to defend the loremaster. 

For a moment Caina was too astonished to react, and then she realized the truth. She was a valikarion now, undetectable to spells of divination and the vision of spirits…and the undead things could only sense the living through spells. Their eyes were nothing but empty sockets illuminated by an occasional flicker of green fire. Whatever malign necromantic force animated the dead soldiers couldn’t see her, wouldn’t have any idea that she was there, and neither would the cataphracti. 

Caina stared to turn, to run to aid Kylon against the cataphracti, but forced herself to stop. She could do nothing to aid him. None of her weapons could truly hurt the cataphracti. Her ghostsilver dagger would have annoyed the giant creatures, but Kalgri had taken the weapon. 

She could not help Kylon, and she had to trust that he could take care of himself. 

Instead, she could help Nasser and Laertes defend Annarah. 

Caina’s daggers were useless against the dead Legionaries, so she returned the blades to their boot sheaths. Instead she ran to a destroyed merchant booth and plucked up one of the wooden rods that had once supported the awning over the counter. The sturdy length of wood had hardened with age, and would make a serviceable club. 

A mob of the undead soldiers closed around Nasser and Laertes, and Caina attacked. She whipped the club back and swung it with all her strength, and it cracked into the side of an undead warrior’s head. The blow landed with enough force to pop the Legionary’s head off its shoulders in a spray of dust, and the corpse collapsed motionless to the ground. Caina attacked again, her club slamming into the back of a Legionary’s knee, staggering the creature long enough for Nasser to crush its skull with his crystalline fist. Laertes swung his heavy shield, knocking an undead Legionary back. By then the undead had started to realize that something was amiss, and she jumped back as they sought of her.

She felt a mad smile spread over her face, despite the deadly danger. The damned things couldn’t find her. She had always trained to use daggers and throwing knives in a fight, weapons of speed and precision. To club something with all her strength was almost absurdly satisfying. 

Nasser and Laertes attacked in the dead Legionaries’ moment of confusion, striking down three of the creatures before they recovered, but Annarah’s attack was more effective. She raised the pyrikon staff high, its bronze length shining with white fire, and brought it down with a shout. A ring of blazing white flame erupted from her, visible to both Caina’s mortal eyes and the eyes of the valikarion, and it rolled across the ground of the Bazaar. The undead Legionaries burst into white fire wherever the power of the Words of Lore touched them. The creatures went into twitching, writhing dances, and finally collapsed to the ground, crumbling into ash. 

Caina spun as another wave of undead soldiers ran at them. 

###

The cataphractus’s club smashed into the ground, and Kylon seized the weapon, the sorcery of water surging through his muscles, and jumped. There was no way he could pull the club from the creature’s iron grasp, and he didn’t even try. Instead he leaped over the club and lashed out with the valikon, the ghostsilver blade biting deep into the cataphractus’s arm. The wound sizzled and smoked, and again a howl of fury came from the undead hulk. It started to turn, but by then Kylon had already regained his feet, landing another hit on the cataphractus’s leg as he did so. 

A shaft of white fire burst past him and slammed into the second cataphractus, knocking the monster back a step. Annarah’s spells seemed unable to do more than stagger the cataphracti, but so far the Words of Lore had kept the second cataphractus from joining the fray. Her spells proved far more effective against the undead Legionaries, and ring after ring of white fire had destroyed the creatures, while Caina and Nasser and Laertes dealt with the rest. 

“Kyracian!” shouted Morgant, running around the cataphractus’s leg. “Now!” 

The cataphractus started to turn, but Morgant was already moving, driving his black dagger deep into the glistening raw flesh of the cataphractus’s knee.

And as he did, he called upon the dagger’s power. The blade had generated tremendous heat as it sliced through the cataphractus’s thick armor, soaking up that heat like a sponge drinking water. Now it released all that heat at once, and the cataphractus’s right leg exploded into a pillar of fire as Morgant wrenched the dagger free. The huge creature staggered as the corrupted flesh of its right leg turned to charcoal, and the leg collapsed beneath it, causing the cataphractus to fall to its knees. 

It was the opening that Kylon needed.

He surged forward, the valikon raised over his head, and jumped. The cataphractus started to lift its club, but Kylon was already in motion. He brought the ancient sword hammering down, and it slashed into the green bloodcrystal embedded in the undead hulk’s chest. The valikon ripped through the bloodcrystal with a flare of white fire, and the crystal shivered and crumbled into ash. 

The cataphractus bellowed, its furious cry becoming a reeking gurgle, and Kylon jumped away. The huge creature shivered, groaned, and then fell forward as the necromantic spells upon it unraveled. In that moment it transformed from a foe of speed and power to a heap of moldering flesh encased in rusty armor.

The second cataphractus charged, climbing over the pile of rotting carrion that had been first creature, and brought its club hammering down. Again Kylon dodged, the club striking the ground with enough force to make the earth tremble. He caught his balance, preparing to dodge before the cataphractus could strike, but there was no need. A burst of white fire slammed into the creature’s midsection, the corrupted flesh beneath the patchwork armor sizzling. Kylon risked a glance over his shoulder, wondering how Annarah could spare her attention from the other undead, but most of the undead Legionaries were down, and Caina and Nasser and Laertes held the remaining few back from Annarah. 

Another burst of white fire ripped across the cataphractus’s flank, sending the creature reeling…and a volley of blue sparks slashed up its chest, and the undead thing’s necromantic aura started to flicker.

The blue sparks had been a dispelling attack.

Kylon turned and saw the Imperial Guards hurrying into the Bazaar. 

###

Claudia gathered her will, focusing her arcane strength for another spell.

“Ugly damned thing, isn’t it?” said Malcolm, squinting at the reeling cataphractus. “Looks like a drunken butcher put it together.” 

The man was compulsively honest. Claudia would have been annoyed, but she recognized the symptoms. A magus had attempted to mind-control Malcolm as a child, and the damage from the attack had left him unable to lie. Nevertheless, Malcolm was a useful companion. He hefted his massive sledgehammer as if it had been made of paper, and swung it with enough force to turn an undead Legionary’s head to powder. 

That had been helpful as the Imperial Guards forced their way through the press in the streets. Cassander Nilas had unleashed both the Dead Legion and the cataphracti upon the streets, instructing them to attack anyone in sight. Likely he thought the chaos would prevent anyone from assaulting the Umbarian embassy until he finished his bloody work. 

“You’re not wrong,” said Claudia, and cast another spell. Again a burst of blue sparks shot from her hands, attacking the necromantic power on the cataphractus. She could have dispelled an undead Legionary with ease. The spells upon the cataphractus were far more complex and powerful, and Claudia gritted her teeth with the strain. 

The white fire of the Words of Lore hit the cataphractus again. Claudia pushed her will to its limit, the blue sparks blazing as they shot from her hand, and she felt the necromantic spells buckle. 

The cataphractus heaved once, and then all at once collapsed, becoming nothing more than a heap of dead meat, leather stitches, and rusting steel armor. It bounced against the ground, its armor clanging, and then went still.

The sound of fighting faded, but Claudia still heard the screams and the fires rising from the rest of the city. 

“The smell,” said Nerina Strake in a quiet voice, “is really quite incalculably awful.” 

The Imperial Guards moved into the Bazaar, keeping their shields raised and their swords ready. Claudia followed at the back, Nerina, Malcolm, and Azaces flanking her. The big Sarbian wielded a two-handed scimitar that was almost taller than Claudia. Where Malcolm had smashed the undead Legionaries, Azaces had simply beheaded them. 

Caina had always possessed a gift for finding useful allies. 

“Good timing,” said Caina, stepping over one of the formerly undead soldiers. 

“We’re only a few blocks from the embassy,” said Martin. “Best we go together.”

Caina nodded. “Those undead soldiers are everywhere.”

“We avoided several cataphracti,” said Martin. “I suspect Cassander unleashed them to stir up chaos and distract from his plans.” 

“Have your Guards deal with the undead Legionaries,” said Caina. “Kylon, Morgant, Annarah, and Lady Claudia can handle any cataphracti.”

“How much time do we have left?” said Martin, glancing at the golden rift spreading across the sky. It had gotten slowly but steadily bigger as they forced their way through the streets.

“An hour, Lord Martin,” said Annarah. “Maybe two. It is difficult to say.” 

“If we march directly to the embassy,” said Nasser, “I fear we shall almost certainly draw Cassander’s full attention.” He had a peculiar leather-wrapped spear strapped to his back, though he had used his scimitar and his gloved left fist in the fighting. Claudia wondered why he bothered to drag the spear around with him. 

Martin nodded. “Are you suggesting we act as bait?” 

“Perhaps,” said Nasser. “Not to the point of sacrificing yourselves, of course. But if you were to draw Cassander’s attention while we break into the mansion unobserved…”

“It might be our best chance of stopping him,” said Caina. “If we take him unawares, Kylon can cut him down with the valikon before he can react. Likely the whole framework of spells empowering the circle is centered on him. With him dead, the rift will collapse and we can destroy the Throne of Corazain.” 

“Very good,” said Martin, pointing with his broadsword. “Centurion! We…”

Claudia staggered, suddenly unable to breathe. 

“My lady?” said Nerina, taking her arm.

“I…” rasped Claudia. Every muscle in her torso seemed to contract at once, like a huge invisible first was squeezing her. For an awful moment she thought that an Umbarian magus was about to crush her in invisible bands of psychokinetic force, and then she felt something hot and warm flowing down the inside of her legs. 

“Oh,” said Claudia, catching her breath. “Oh.” She berated herself for coming on the attack. Yet her spells had saved lives…and there was no place safe in Istarinmul, was there?