Ghost in the Tower

by Jonathan Moeller

  “It sounds like your third marriage was for love as well,” said Caina.

  “I suppose it was, at that,” said Ariadne. “Practically, it had no negative political consequences. I have always been vocal in my support for the Empire, and I cannot have any more children so I would not threaten the inheritance of his three sons and two daughters.” She toyed with one of the rings on her finger for a moment. “It was either the will of the gods or good fortune. I miss him desperately, and when he returns to Artifel, I’m going to accompany him in the field. The Legion needs good engineers…and battle spells as well.”

  “Hopefully we can get the matter of the suicides resolved quickly,” said Caina.

  “Yes,” said Ariadne. “If I may say so…I am glad I met you, Caina. You looked so much like Talmania that it threw me off for a while.”

  “This is the longest civil conversation I’ve ever had with a female relative,” said Caina. The realization surprised her. “I am glad I met you as well, Ariadne. I had wondered…I had wondered if evil was in our blood. That if I did have children of my body, they would turn into monsters like Talmania. But I see now that was foolish.”

  “I quite understand,” said Ariadne. “I…”

  There was a knock at the door.

  Ariadne turned a startled glance towards it. “Yes?”

  “My lady, a message for you has come.” It was the dry voice of Libius. “Might I enter?”

  “Come inside,” said Ariadne, frowning.

  Libius entered, walked to Ariadne’s chair, and handed her a scroll. “The messenger was from the Praesar, and he said that the matter was urgent and required your immediate attention.”

  Ariadne broke the seal on the scroll and read the message, and her eyes went wide.

  “There’s been another suicide, hasn’t there?” said Caina.

  “Aye,” said Ariadne, getting to her feet. “The high magus Septimus Aureon. It seems his daughter found him a few hours ago and summoned the Lictors for help. We had better go at once.”

  Caina nodded as she stood. Looking at the scene of the suicide was the best chance they had of finding useful information.

  Hopefully, they could unravel the mystery before anyone else died.

  Chapter 9: Orphans

  A few moments later the coach rattled through the streets of Artifel, heading for the inner city.

  Ariadne sat with her staff between her knees, both hands grasping the smooth, cool wood. Markaine sat next to her, his expression one of idle interest, and Caina and Sophia faced her from the opposite seat. Ariadne watched the darkened streets of Artifel through the windows. Artifel was a well-lit city at night, thanks to the spells of the Magisterium and the glass globes, and she had no trouble marking out the towers of the magi and the domes of the Motherhouse against the dark sky.

  Black memories stirred in Ariadne’s mind. It had been a night like this when Quartius Hegemonar had died. She remembered her first husband lying prone upon the black stone floor, the stink of death filling her nostrils, the red wine pooling near his hand like spilled blood…

  “What can you tell me about Septimus Aureon?” said Caina.

  With an effort, Ariadne dragged her thoughts back to the present. She had to stop brooding on the past. The gods knew they had enough problems here and now.

  “Septimus Aureon,” said Ariadne. “I’m afraid he has something of an evil reputation. Before the civil war started, he was rumored to have contacts with the Istarish Slavers’ Brotherhood. When Valron became Praesar, he investigated Septimus a few times, but no proof was ever found. Then you killed the Slavers’ Brotherhood, and the entire question became moot.”

  “I didn’t kill the Slavers’ Brotherhood,” said Caina with a hint of exasperation. “I didn’t even kill any of the cowled masters. I just bankrupted them. Then Cassander Nilas betrayed and killed them all on the day he almost destroyed Istarinmul. I seem to get the credit for that. Or the blame, depending on who you ask.” She frowned. “Was Septimus related to Lady Aureon of Malarae?”

  “He is. Was,” amended Ariadne.

  “Lady Aureon was a strong supporter of Lord Haeron Icaraeus, and Haeron was friendly with the Istarish slavers as well,” said Caina. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Septimus Aureon had the same sort of relationship. Was he one of the First Magus’s supporters?”

  “He was,” said Ariadne. “And a vocal one. Again, nothing was ever proven, but I suspected that Septimus had a pact with Decius. If he always supported the First Magus, then Decius would let him get away with more than he would otherwise.”

  Markaine snorted. “No wonder the First Magus is concerned. If his supporters among the high magi keep committing suicide, he’s going to get himself thrown out of office.”

  Caina frowned. “Could Valron Icaraeus be behind this, Ariadne? He has the most to gain if Decius loses support among the high magi.”

  “I suppose anything is possible,” said Ariadne. “You never really know what is in someone else’s heart.” Had she not learned that the hard way? “But I would be shocked to learn of it. Valron is a harsh man, but he is not a cold-blooded murderer. Then again, war can change a man’s character.”

  “Maybe it is like…like an illness, my lady,” said Sophia.

  Caina looked at her. “An illness? What manner of illness?”

  “I don’t know,” said Sophia. “If the Umbarians didn’t make the high magi kill themselves, then maybe something else did. Like they’re attempting a new spell or found some enspelled relic, and they don’t understand how to use it…”

  “And it twisted their minds, and they killed themselves,” murmured Caina.

  “That is entirely possible,” said Ariadne. “I fear that is a common way for master magi and high magi to die. We often push the bounds of our knowledge of the arcane sciences. Sometimes experiments end badly.”

  Markaine snorted. “That doesn’t say much for the wisdom of the high magi if five of them got killed attempting the same experiment.”

  Ariadne’s smile showed teeth. “Wisdom and intelligence, sir, are not the same thing.”

  “No,” said Caina. “Was Septimus Aureon part of your class of initiates?”

  Ariadne had to think back. “Yes, he was.”

  “Just like the other four,” said Caina. “Four was already an implausible coincidence. Five stretches credulity. Whatever this is, it must have something to do with that class of initiates.”

  “Perhaps we’ll be able to discover more at Septimus’s tower,” said Ariadne.

  The coach passed through the gate into the inner city, heading north down a street lined with mansions and towers.

  “You were part of that class of initiates, were you not?” said Markaine.

  “I already told you that I was,” said Ariadne. She remembered that time well. Gods, how miserably unhappy she had been. Her early training with her father had left her paranoid and unable to make friends in any capacity, convinced that everyone she met was plotting against her. Granted, that was a reasonable fear in the Magisterium, but despite what Caina thought, not every magus was a power-mad lunatic. And many of the Magisterium’s worst members had joined the Umbarians or had already been members of the Order in secret. Perhaps if the Emperor won the war, the Magisterium could be reformed, its crueler practices removed…

  “I reiterate my warning, then,” said Markaine. “Make sure you stay away from any rope.”

  Ariadne blinked and laughed. “Sir, I appreciate your concern, but as I told you earlier, if I was prone to suicide, I would have killed myself long, long ago.”

  Again, she remembered the puddle of red wine near Quartius’s hand. She had thought the day she had discovered his true nature had been the worst of her life, but she had been wrong. The day he had died had been just as bad.

  She felt Caina’s eyes on her, cold and keen, and wondered how much of her thoughts her niece guessed. Probably quite a lot of them, Ariadne supposed. In ancient times the Ulkaari had said that the
truth could not be hidden from the gaze of an Arvaltyr, and Ariadne wondered if that was true for Caina.

  Just as well. Ariadne needed all the help she could get to find out just what the hell was going on with these damned suicides.

  A few moments later her coach rolled to a stop before the tower of Septimus Aureon.

  Septimus had been a powerful sorcerer and a corrupt politician, but he had possessed no aesthetic taste whatsoever, and his tower reflected that. It was a squat cylinder of black stone, unadorned and simple, a building designed to reflect the power and wealth of its owner. It achieved that, albeit tastelessly. The tower filled most of its lot, with a small fringe of a garden around its base. The double doors at its foot stood open, and harsh white light spilled across the ground, illuminating the Lictor who stood guard.

  “This is it?” said Caina.

  “Aye,” said Ariadne. “I’ll do the talking. You look around.”

  “Wait,” said Caina. “Sophia. If you could keep your spell of sensing active, that would be helpful.”

  “Yes, my lady,” said Sophia. She concentrated, her eyelids fluttering, and then she winced. “There are…four men and a woman inside the tower. I can’t really sense the emotions of the men, only that they’re inside.”

  “Probably Valron and the Lictors,” said Ariadne. “They would have warding spells around them.”

  “And there’s a woman,” said Sophia. “She’s…” She blinked several times. “She’s really upset.”

  “Likely Septimus’s daughter,” said Ariadne. “Poor woman. No doubt she is the one who found Septimus’s body.”

  “What’s her name?” said Caina.

  “Tempora Aureon,” said Ariadne. “She’s just a few years younger than you, I think, and she was recently made a full sister of the Magisterium.” She opened the coach door. “Come. Let us see what can be learned here.”

  “Keep that sensing spell active, Sophia,” said Caina, and the girl nodded.

  They got out of the coach and walked to the doors of the tower. The Lictor on guard there gave them a suspicious glance and then straightened up as he saw Ariadne’s purple sash and black staff.

  “High magus,” said the Lictor.

  “Is the Praesar inside?” said Ariadne.

  “He is, high magus,” said the Lictor. “There…”

  A woman’s voice rose, full of anger.

  “I think we can find the way,” said Ariadne.

  They walked into the tower. The room beyond filled the entire first floor. There was a long wooden table with chairs and a pair of hearths that gave off a pleasant warmth. Valron and two more Lictors stood near one of the hearths, speaking with a scowling young woman in a black robe with a red sash.

  Tempora Aureon had inherited her mother’s looks, which was fortunate given her father. She was a striking young woman with curly brown hair and flashing black eyes in a pretty face. Right now, those black eyes glared with rage, and her body all but quivered with fury as she glared at the Praesar.

  “My father did not kill himself!” said Tempora. “He did not! I tell you that he was murdered. Someone broke into our tower and did this to him. We…”

  “The matter is being investigated,” started Valron, and he glanced to the side as Ariadne and the others approached. “Ah.”

  “Praesar,” said Ariadne. “I received your message.”

  “Thank you for coming,” said Valron. “The First Magus has tasked you and your niece with unraveling the mystery of these suicides, and I fear there has been another one. Magus Tempora found her father’s body an hour ago, and…”

  “Wait,” snarled Tempora, and she stepped forward, glaring at Caina. “Who is this? Who is this woman?”

  “My name is Caina Kardamnos,” said Caina, her voice quiet, her face solemn.

  Tempora snarled. “You’re her, aren’t you? The valikarion. The one who killed the Slavers’ Brotherhood. Is that why you’re here? To persecute my father? Or me? I know the stories of the valikarion of old. How they hunted down magi and framed them for crimes they did not commit.” Valron tried to interrupt, but the torrent of furious words drowned out the Praesar. “Or are you going to blame my father? He was murdered! Are you here to make sure it looks like a suicide, valikarion? Or maybe you’ll blame me for it? Then you can kill two magi for the price of one! Isn’t that what the valikarion like to do? Well? Is it?”

  Tempora fell silent, her eyes blazing, her chest heaving.

  “My father was murdered when I was a child,” said Caina. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Tempora shivered, and all at once she collapsed into incoherent tears.

  “Come on, now,” said Ariadne, and the younger woman collapsed into her arms. She handed her staff to Caina. “Come on, that’s good, dear, let it out. You’d better sit down, Tempora. Yes, sit here.” She guided Tempora to one of the chairs, and she slumped into it, still weeping. “And I believe you, dear. I think your father was murdered, just as those other four high magi were murdered.”

  “Do you know who did it?” said Tempora, rubbing at her eyes. She seemed to be regaining control of herself. “Do you know who murdered my father?”

  “Not yet,” said Ariadne, “but we’re looking.”

  “And I can promise you this,” said Caina. “If I am a valikarion, then I must hunt down those who misuse sorcery. If I can find your father’s murderer, then he will not escape me.”

  Tempora sniffled again and looked at Caina. “I believe you. I’m not sure why, but I believe you.”

  “You seem to have matters in hand here,” said Valron. He might have been a competent military commander and a much better man than Decius Aberon, but comforting a weeping young woman was not the sort of thing he did. “I will summon the priests to tend to the high magus’s body.”

  “Go,” said Ariadne. “We’ll stay with Tempora.”

  Valron nodded and gestured to his Lictors, and they left the tower.

  “We need to ask you some questions,” said Caina.

  “Yes,” said Tempora. She sniffled again and let out a long sigh. “Yes, I suppose you do.”

  “What happened?” said Caina.

  “I…I came home about an hour ago,” said Tempora. “I’ve been a full sister of the Magisterium for a year and a half, but since Mother died…I think Father was happier that I was still living with him, rather than establishing my own household as many sisters of the Magisterium do.”

  “Where were you during the day?” said Caina.

  “The foundries,” said Tempora. “I was assigned to work there with the magi enspelling arms and armor for the Legions. The work goes on night and day. I spent all day enspelling swords, and then I came home. Usually, Father and I have dinner together, and the servants have it ready. But there was no one here when I came home…”

  “None of your servants are here?” said Caina. She looked at Sophia. “Is there anyone other than us in the tower?”

  Sophia hesitated and then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I can’t sense anyone else.”

  Tempora gave the girl a puzzled look. “Sense?”

  “Water sorcery,” said Ariadne.

  “Oh,” said Tempora.

  “You came home,” said Caina. “What happened then?”

  “I couldn’t find any of the servants, so I went upstairs,” said Tempora. “Father’s study is on the highest level of the tower. The door was open, which was odd. He always closes the door when he’s working, and when he’s not there, he insists that the servants close and lock the door. I could smell blood, and I ran into his study. I…I saw him hanging from the rafters. Gods, his face. I’ll never forget that if I live a thousand years. There was a word written in his blood on the wall…”

  “Clean?” said Ariadne.

  “Yes, that was it,” said Tempora. “I…I didn’t know what to do, so I ran downstairs. I found one of the militiamen and told them to summon the Lictors. I didn’t know I’d get the Praesar himself…or another high magu
s and a valikarion…”

  “Did you touch anything in your father’s study?” said Caina.

  “No,” said Tempora. “I suppose I should have checked to see if Father was really dead…but he was. I know it. Once you see a corpse, you never forget how it looks, aye? I saw enough of them during the siege of Artifel.”

  “We all did,” said Ariadne.

  “All right,” said Caina. “Tempora, I’d like you to stay here. Ariadne and I are going to have a look at your father’s study. Markaine?” The painter had watched everything with calm disinterest, but that put Ariadne in mind of the wariness of a wolf watching for prey. “Go take a quick look around the kitchens and the servants’ quarters. I’m hoping Septimus Aureon sent his servants away.”

  And not, Ariadne feared, because they had all been killed.

  “What should I do, my lady?” said Sophia.

  “Stay here with Tempora and keep watch on the front doors,” said Caina. “Keep your sensing spell up. And if you sense anyone other than the Praesar coming, run and get Markaine or me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lady,” said Sophia.

  “Tempora,” said Caina. “Which way to your father’s study?”

  She pointed at a flight of stairs that climbed their way along the curved wall. “There. The top floor. Do you think…do you think you can find who killed him? He didn’t commit suicide. I would swear that on the name of every god ever worshipped in the Empire. My father was not a perfect man, I know that…but suicide was not in him. He would flee the city and start over again somewhere else before killing himself.”

  “I don’t know,” said Caina, “but I think you’re right, magus Tempora. I think your father didn’t kill himself.” She turned to Ariadne. “Shall we?”