The Ghosts Omnibus One Read online

  "To the docks, I assume?" said Riogan as Halfdan steered the wagon through the town's narrow streets.

  "Almost," said Halfdan, bringing the cart to a halt. He swung down from the driver's seat and passed the reins to Riogan. "You and Komnene go to the docks, find us a ship. One heading to Craton, preferably, but Mors Nicoron or Kratekon will do. Hire a fishing boat, if necessary. I'd like to put on tomorrow's tide."

  Riogan frowned, but took the reins. "Where are you going?"

  "Caina and I will be visiting the market square," said Halfdan.

  "Why?" said Caina and Riogan in unison.

  "Indulge me," said Halfdan.

  Caina shrugged, climbed out of the wagon, and followed Halfdan. In truth, she did not mind. Other than Aretia, she had been to only a few other towns, and never to Mors Anaxis. She rather enjoyed looking at the people going about their business, the men with tools and wagons, the women carrying jars of water or bundles of laundry.

  It made her think of her father's promise to visit Malarae and the Imperial Library.

  Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them back and followed Halfdan.

  They came to town's market square, a broad space ringed with merchant shops and stalls, a fountain bubbling in the center. A magistrates' hall stood on one end of the square. No doubt ten decimvirs judged in Mors Anaxis, as in Aretia. On the other end of the square stood a high building of timbered stone, and Caina supposed it was an inn or a drinking house.

  "What do you think?" said Halfdan.

  "It seems busy," said Caina.

  Halfdan snorted. "Not quite. The Great Market in Malarae, that is busy. Or the Plaza of the Tower in Marsis, or perhaps the Grand Bazaar in Istarinmul. This is a quiet little town in the heart of the Empire."

  "If you say so," said Caina.

  "Your father," said Halfdan, "he never took you to the capital? Or to any of the Empire's great cities?"

  "No," said Caina, blinking back tears again. "We...were going to go to Malarae soon. But...other things happened."

  "Yes," said Halfdan. "So you've had no...schooling? Your father never took you to the Temple of Minaerys, for instance, for a course of study?"

  "No. Why does it matter?"

  "I am just curious," said Halfdan, "how you became so observant."

  "I read a lot of books in my father's library," said Caina.

  "So I see," said Halfdan. He stood in silence for a moment, then gestured towards a man walking across the square. "That man. What can you tell me about him?"

  Caina squinted at the man. He was tall and rangy, with skin like old leather, his hair pale. He walked with a rolling gait, and had a knife at his belt.

  "He's a fisherman," said Caina.

  "How do you know?"

  "He's been in the sun a lot," said Caina. "You can tell, from his skin and hair." Halfdan nodded. "And he...walks funny. Like he spends a lot of time on a boat. The fishermen in Aretia always walked that way. And that's a scaling knife on his belt."

  "Good," said Halfdan, gesturing again. "That man, the one leaving the inn. Tell me about him."

  Caina watched the man descend the inn's stairs. He moved with a heavy stride, sweat dripping down his forehead, his gut straining against his belt and fine coat. He wore a short sword, but the weapon looked ornamental. Not like the simple, deadly blades that Riogan carried.

  "He's a merchant," said Caina. "I think he sells...spices. Yes, that's it. Spices. Also, his money pouch is in the inside pocket of his coat."

  Halfdan lifted his gray eyebrows. "Now, how did you know all that?"

  "He's fat and sweaty," said Caina. "So, he doesn't labor for a living. His clothes are too nice. And there's black powder on the sleeves of his coat. Probably pepper, I think. And he keeps reaching into his coat and looking around, making sure his money pouch is still there."

  "Very good," said Halfdan. "That fellow, there?"

  "A courier. He's wearing spurs, has mud on his boots, and he's got the sigil of a noble House on his coat. House...Basilicus?"

  "Yes," said Halfdan. "And that woman?"

  "A shopkeeper's wife," said Caina. "She squints and has a stoop, so she must do his account books." She blinked again. "Like my mother always said reading would do to me."

  "You have a gift for observation," said Halfdan. "And for deducing facts from those things you observe."

  Caina shrugged. "What good is that?"

  A smile flickered over Halfdan's face. "You'd be surprised, I think." He gestured again. "What about that woman, the one in the blue cloak?"

  "She's the wife of a linen broker," said Caina, "and she has four children."

  Halfdan frowned. "Now how did you work that out?"

  "Because my father's seneschal would buy linen from her husband. He came up to Aretia sometimes," said Caina.

  Halfdan burst out laughing.

  Caina almost smiled. It had so long since she had smiled, or laughed, that the motion felt strange on her face.

  "An eye for observation, and a knack for remembering detail," said Halfdan. He smiled at her. "Truly, Caina, you are a remarkable child."

  "I...thank you," said Caina, unsure of how to respond.

  "I wonder," said Halfdan, "do you..."

  Caina froze.

  A man stepped down from the magistrates' hall, a man in a black robe with a red sash about the waist.

  A magus, a brother of the Magisterium. Caina remembered the men and women in black robes staring at her, watching as Maglarion had cut deeper and deeper into her flesh...

  "Get on the ground," said Halfdan. His voice was hard, but his face remained calm. "Act like you tripped. Do it now."

  His voice cut through Caina's fear, and she let herself fall to the flagstones. Halfdan knelt besides her, took her arm. The magus glanced once in their direction and kept walking.

  "Do you recognize him?" said Halfdan. "Was he with Maglarion?"

  "I...I don't know," said Caina. "It was dark. I couldn't see their faces. He looks like them. But...I don't know." Hatred boiled up inside her, like a pot threatening to overflow. "But they're all villains, they're all murderers, every last one of the magi..."

  "Keep your voice down," said Halfdan, helping Caina to her feet, hand around her elbow. "This way."

  He led her away from the market square and through a maze of narrow streets. The air smelled of salt and dead fish, and seagulls cawed and circled overhead. Finally they came to the waterfront itself. A row of taverns faced the quays, and crews of porters worked at unloading ships. Caina spotted Komnene and Riogan driving the wagon along the street.

  "That was quick," said Riogan.

  "Change of plans," said Halfdan. "I saw a magus coming out of the decimvirs' hall."

  Riogan swore.

  Komnene glanced at Caina. "Was the magus one of Maglarion's students?"

  "I don't know," said Halfdan. "She couldn't recognize him. He might be here on perfectly innocent business. Or he could be hunting for us, or for the girl. I'd rather not stay to find out. But if he is looking for us, then he'll surely be smart enough to check the outgoing ships."

  "So we're to travel around the Bay of Empire on foot?" said Riogan. "That's a long walk."

  "It is," said Halfdan. "So we'll travel another day south. To Koros, I think."

  Riogan scowled. "Koros is barely a village."

  "Correct," said Halfdan. "We'll charter a fishing boat and sail across the Bay. Safer that way. I doubt Maglarion or any of his disciples would bother searching for us there."

  "Then," said Riogan, "we had better get moving, hadn't we?"

  ###

  They drove south for the rest of the day, and after five miles left the Imperial Highway for a weedy dirt road along the shoreline. Koros lay a few miles from the Imperial Highway, Halfdan said, which meant that the magi would be less likely to search there.

  "Which also means," said Komnene, "that smugglers and pirates like to stop in Koros. We'll need to be careful."

  Caina frown
ed. Smugglers...she remembered her father's Maatish scroll, the one that Maglarion had taken. The scroll, she realized, that had started this whole thing.

  "Maybe we shouldn't," said Caina.

  They all looked at her.

  "Why not?" said Halfdan.

  "That Maatish scroll," said Caina. "The one my father got from the smugglers. Maglarion came for us because of the scroll. If...those smugglers came from Koros..."

  "Then it's all the likelier that Maglarion won't come back," said Halfdan. "He already got the scroll. Why bother with smugglers?"

  Caina hoped that he was right.

  They drove for the rest of the day and made camp on the beach, above the tide line. Komnene had purchased supplies in Mors Anaxis, and they had a good supper of stew and biscuits. Caina found that she was hungry, and ate more than she had in a long time.

  "Good," said Komnene.

  "What?" said Caina.

  "Your appetite is coming back," said Komnene.

  "Well, I'm hungry," said Caina.

  Afterwards, she rolled in a blanket and fell asleep by the fire.

  The nightmares assailed her again.

  Chapter 7 - An Invitation

  "It's time we talked," said Halfdan.

  Riogan and Komnene looked at him in surprise. Riogan sat on side of the fire, cleaning and sharpening his weapons. Komnene sat on the other, mixing up some sort of herbal tea. She claimed that it let one sleep without nightmares.

  Caina lay between them, wrapped in her blanket. She muttered in her sleep, from time to time lifting one arm as if to ward off a blow.

  "About what?" said Riogan, returning his attention to his blades. "We're talking now, aren't we?"

  "We need to decide," said Halfdan, "what we will do about Caina."

  "You're circlemaster," said Riogan. "So decide."

  Komnene laughed. "No, he wants to hear what we think, first. And then he'll decide to do what he wanted to do anyway."

  Riogan sighed, got to his feet in a single fluid motion. "Let's get this over with, then."

  They walked a short distance from the fire, far enough that their conversation would not wake Caina. Though given the nightmares the girl had, Halfdan supposed, waking her might have been merciful.

  "So," said Halfdan. "What do you think of her?"

  "Just a child," said Riogan. "Her mother killed her father, but what of it? Orphans are as common as sand. Live long enough, and everyone is an orphan, in the end."

  "She is an unusual child," said Komnene.

  Riogan laughed. "You only say that because she realized the Temple threw you out."

  "Komnene's right," said Halfdan. "The girl is...observant, unusually so. When we were in Mors Anaxis, I bade her observe things about the townsmen and women. Without fail, her deductions were accurate."

  "So that's where you went," said Riogan. "You were testing her."

  "And she passed," said Halfdan, glancing at the sleeping girl. She still thrashed and muttered in her sleep. "Not many people are that observant, let alone a girl of eleven years."

  "So she's clever," said Riogan. "What of that?"

  "She's also got steel in her," said Komnene, voice quiet. "Consider what she has endured in the last two months. Her mother's betrayal. Her father murdered in front of her. The things Maglarion did to her. It should have broken her. She should be huddled in a corner, weeping and clutching her knees, but she isn't."

  "Because we rescued her," said Riogan, "not because she's got steel in her."

  "I'm surprised you didn't notice it," said Halfdan. "When we entered that vault. She was already walking around."

  "So?" said Riogan.

  "There were cells in the vault," said Halfdan. "She had already gotten out of the cells on her own."

  Riogan opened his mouth for another cutting remark...and fell silent.

  "An unusual child," repeated Komnene.

  "So she's strong and clever," said Riogan. "Why does that matter? You said you wanted to decide what to do with her. So decide. The Ghosts have many friends among the Loyalist Houses. Some of them must need another daughter. Find a friendly noble House and have the Lord adopt her."

  Komnene shook her head. "That is a poor choice. Her life will be miserable."

  Riogan laughed. "Life is misery. Better she learns that sooner that later."

  "You don't understand," said Komnene. "Maglarion...he cut too deeply into her. He probably left her barren."

  "A virgin's womb," said Halfdan, shaking his head. "Useful for all kinds of necromantic spells."

  "We won't know for sure until she has her first menstrual cycle," said Komnene. "Or until she doesn't, to be more accurate. But I am almost certain she will not be able to bear children. And the life of a noble spinster is hardly a pleasant one. She will never be able to wed, and will gradually become an outcast."

  "What of that?" said Riogan. "Nobles are tedious company, anyway. The girl likes to read? Make her into a priestess of Minaerys. She can spend all day reading. And it's not as if you have to give her to a noble House. The Ghosts have friends among the merchant and craft collegia, don't they? Give her to a merchant, or to a craftsman. She could actually do something useful, unlike most nobles."

  "A craft collegia would be a waste," said Komnene. "I am not...welcome among the priests of Minaerys, not after what I've done. But Caina, I think, would find a welcome home among them."

  Riogan scoffed. "Assuming she even wants to go. I doubt any god answered her prayers, sitting in that cell."

  "No," said Halfdan. "Turning her into a priestess of Minaerys would be as much of a waste as making her into a noble spinster or some merchant's daughter. No, I have something else in mind. We shall make her into one of us. We shall make her into a Ghost."

  Neither Riogan nor Komnene seemed surprised.

  "That's what you wanted to talk about?" said Riogan. "Asking her to join the Ghosts? Of course she'll join the Ghosts! We saved her life, and the Ghosts want eyes and ears everywhere. Whether maiden aunt or priestess, she'll join the local Ghost circle."

  "Not quite," said Halfdan. "I want to make her into a nightfighter."

  And as he expected, that met with a barrage of protest.

  "A nightfighter?" said Riogan, his voice dripping with scorn. "This scarred waif of a girl, and you think she can be a nightfighter? You've finally gone mad, Halfdan."

  "A nightfighter?" said Komnene. "You want to inflict that upon her? Recruit her into the Ghosts, by all means. The Emperor needs eyes and ears everywhere. But to turn her into a Ghost nightfighter, to make her into an assassin and a spy..."

  "Yes," said Halfdan. "That is exactly what I intend, to turn her into an assassin and spy in the service of the Ghosts."

  "Why?" said Komnene.

  "The girl has strength," said Halfdan. "She got out of her cell on her own. How many other children could have managed that?"

  Riogan laughed. "So what? Had we not already poisoned the magi, she would have just gone right back into her cell. Or they'd have killed her on sight."

  "You'll agree she's not stupid?" said Halfdan.

  Riogan nodded.

  "Then she found her way out of her cell, and tried to escape...even though she knew the magi would probably kill her," said Halfdan.

  Riogan fell silent.

  "How many children could do that?" said Halfdan. "For that matter, how many grown men and women could summon that kind of courage?"

  "So she has nerve, I'll grant," said Riogan.

  "And think how much more she could do with knowledge, with training, with experience," said Halfdan. "You saw how she deduced that Komnene was once a priestess of Minaerys, that I was once a vintner."

  Riogan flipped one of his daggers into the air, caught it. "She deduced nothing about me."

  "She almost did," said Komnene. "She could see how long you have been training with weapons. How many people would notice that you never lose your balance? Had she little more knowledge, a little more experience, I'm certai
n she would have realized that you were once an assassin of the Kindred."

  Riogan's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

  "There's more," said Halfdan. "I think she's developed the ability to sense sorcery."

  Komnene frowned. "How?"

  "It's been known to happen," said Halfdan, "in people who survive sorcerous attacks. They develop a...sensitivity, for lack of a better word, to sorcery. It usually manifests as a tingling sensation, perhaps with some nausea attached. You know the difficulty the Ghosts face in combating sorcery, especially the mind-control spells the magi enjoy so much. Someone with the ability to sense sorcery would be invaluable to us."

  Riogan snorted. "The best way to deal with magi is a spear down the gullet." He grinned at Komnene. "Or poison, eh?"

  Komnene looked away.

  "There you have it," said Halfdan. "The girl is brave and strong, and clever. Plus, she can sense the presence of sorcery. With proper training, I think...she could be a capable nightfighter, an infiltrator and spy without equal. The Emperor has many enemies, and the Ghosts need all the talent we can find. Caina could be of great help to us."

  "So you want to take this girl, this child who has lost her parents," said Komnene, "and turn her into a weapon."

  Halfdan nodded.

  "And you are comfortable with this?" said Komnene. "This will not trouble your conscience in the least?"

  "It will not," said Halfdan. "For consider the alternatives. What will become of Caina? She has no family. Shall we make her into a noble spinster, have her spend her life attending meaningless balls? Or shall she be a merchant's daughter, and keep his books and count his inventory? Or will she be a priestess of Minaerys, spend her days in a dusty library reading forgotten books? Or can she become something more?"

  Riogan laughed. "Why are you surprised, Komnene? This is what Halfdan does. He wanders the Empire, doing the Emperor's dirty work...and he finds wounded souls and turns them into weapons for his Emperor. That's what he did to you, after all."

  "And to you?" said Komnene.

  Riogan laughed again, his cold eyes flashing. "I was already a weapon."

  "So I have your support, then?" said Halfdan.