She had seen such crimes more than once, horrors wrought by magi who used the blood of children to fuel their spells.
"Then you have a plan?" said Lucan, cleaning his sword on a dead assassin's cloak. His coat fell open, and Caina saw daggers at his belt, along with a variety of tools and more of those clay flasks. He had certainly been prepared for trouble. Caina was annoyed that she had misjudged him so badly.
Annoyed, and impressed. Not many noblemen could have handled a sudden attack so calmly.
"A safehouse," said Caina. "The Ghosts have several. Come morning we can smuggle you out of the city."
"Not good enough," said Lucan. "I came to the capital to hunt a magus named Sidonius."
"Sidonius?" said Caina. She knew the name. He was a master magus of high rank and substantial arcane strength.
"He conducts experiments upon prisoners, trying to use their blood and flesh to enhance his powers," said Lucan. "Usually virgin girls, kidnapped from the streets. No, I will not leave until he has been stopped."
"You can do nothing while the assassins hunt you," said Caina. "You must follow me to a safehouse. Once the assassins lose your trail, you can strike at Sidonius with the aid of the Ghosts. But if you do not flee now, you will probably die."
Lucan gave a sharp nod. "You're right." A grin flashed over his face. "I see the Ghosts are just as cunning as rumor claims."
"Don't..."
Something blurred through the balcony door and slammed into Lucan. A length of leather rope, weighted at either end. It pinned his arms to his torso, tangled his legs, and sent him sprawling to the floor.
A huge man bounded through the door, naked from the waist up. More weighted cords swung from his belt, and a sword waited in his left hand. Swirling tattoos covered his shaved head and neck. Caina recognized him at once. He was one of the most feared and efficient assassins in the Empire, a man who had earned the death sentence a dozen times over.
Jabin the Strangler.
"Well, well, my lord Lucan," rumbled Jabin, striding onto the balcony. "All tied up, I see." He laughed at his feeble joke and lifted the sword. "Let's..."
He stopped when he saw Caina, shifting his sword to a guard position.
"One of you damnable Ghosts," said Jabin. He wore an odd-looking choker chain, black metal links with a thumb-sized emerald resting over his throat. "Nothing but trouble. But it will still be worth my while to kill you. The magi have a standing bounty of five hundred crowns for the head of any Ghost."
"You're a fool," said Caina.
"Oh?" laughed Jabin. "Why is that?"
"You should have worn armor."
She flung a throwing knife at his face. An instant before it reached his eye, it disappeared in a snarling flash of emerald flame, the gem at his throat pulsing with green light.
Sorcery.
Not good.
Jabin grinned and touched the chain. "The magus paid me up front."
His hand blurred, and sent a weighted cord flying at Caina. She sidestepped, and one end wrapped around her left arm, but the other bounced off the wall. Jabin sprang forward, sword leading. Caina twisted aside, yanking a dagger from her boot, and managed to parry the next thrust. Jabin kept coming, and Caina sprang backwards, grabbed the railing, and used it to pivot. She landed next to Lucan, and slashed the cord holding him, coming back to her feet with both her daggers in hand. But that gave little advantage. A dagger against a sword was a losing combination.
Especially when sorcery warded the swordsman from blades.
But blades were not the only thing that could kill a man.
Jabin swiveled to face her as Lucan rolled to his feet, sword and dagger in hand. "Fools! You cannot harm me. Your blades cannot touch me. Why not throw down your weapons and make it easier on yourselves?"
"If you want my life," said Caina, "then you'll have to take it."
"Easily done," said Jabin, and he surged forward, making no effort to guard himself. And why not? His enspelled collar protected him from any blades.
So he seemed very surprised when Caina snatched the weighted cord dangling from her left arm and flung it at his throat. He dodged, and the cord wrapped around his right arm instead of his neck. Caina yanked, and Jabin stumbled, trying to keep his balance.
"Lucan!" shouted Caina. "The railing! Now!"
Lucan surged forward, ducked under Jabin's sword, and slammed his shoulder into the assassin's stomach. Caina shoved into Jabin with all her strength, and together they drove the assassin back.
Against the railing.
Jabin tumbled over the railing, shrieking, clawing at the air, but both Caina and Lucan dodged out of his reach. Then Jabin was gone, swallowed up by the mist and the darkness. A moment later a hideous crack echoed up from the plaza below.
Jabin's enspelled collar had protected him from blades, but not from a five hundred foot fall.
"Idiot," breathed Lucan. "Why did he let us get so close?"
Caina shook her head. "He thought that choker chain made him invincible. So he made mistakes he wouldn't have otherwise."
"The gifts of a magus are indeed poisoned," said Lucan.
"And how," said Caina. "We must go before someone finds the corpse and raises an alarm. Are you ready?"
Lucan nodded, and they hurried to the stairs. The Praetorian Basilica still echoed with music and conversation. No one had noticed the fight, apparently. Caina hurried out the servants' door, Lucan at her heels, mind racing. The safehouse was not far from here. With any luck, they could get away before someone thought to summon the guard.
The coaches and carriages of the lords and ladies waited in the plaza. There were no guards; no doubt the coachmen had slipped away to get something to drink.
"The coaches," said Lucan. "Let's steal one."
Caina nodded, frowning behind her mask. Something was wrong here.
The she spat out a curse.
"What is it?" said Lucan.
"Jabin's body," said Caina. "It's gone." He couldn't have survived the fall. Which meant he had allies nearby. "Go. Now."
Lucan nodded, and every horse in the plaza began screaming. The poor beasts struggled against their traces, rearing and kicking, and the coaches banged into each other.
"Jabin's blood must have spooked them," said Lucan "We..."
A man stepped from the shifting mass of coaches.
Jabin the Strangler.
He was obviously dead. His mouth hung slack, his eyes glassy and unblinking. Most of the skin was missing from his chest, no doubt lost in the fall. Yet he still stood, his sword ready in his hand. Chains of green flame burned upon his arms, his chest, his back. It gave Caina the impression of a puppet pulled on strings, a puppet of dead flesh bound by chains of sorcerous fire.
The gem at his throat shone with the same green glow.
His head swiveled to face them, and a ghastly moan came from his yawning mouth.
"Kill me!" Jabin wailed. "Kill me!"
He rushed forward with superhuman speed, sword raised. A constant groaning came from his mouth, the sound of a man in too much agony to articulate speech. Caina flung a throwing knife, the blade sinking to the handle in Jabin's belly. Yet the dead man did not slow, did not even flinch.
And then his free hand closed upon Caina's throat. She felt herself lifted into the air, felt his cold, dead fingers crushing the breath from her...
Lucan struck at Jabin's arm with a two-handed swing of his sword. A blow like that should have cut a small tree in half. It sank maybe a half-inch into Jabin's flesh before bouncing off his wrist. But the shock of the blow knocked Caina from Jabin's grasp, and she scrambled away, coughing.
Jabin sprang upon Lucan, and their swords met. The dead man was hideously strong, and the effort of blocking sent Lucan stumbling back. Caina recovered her balance and kicked Jabin in the back of the knee, intending to knock him down. She might as well have tried to kick a stone wall. Jabin rocked a bit, and spun to face her. She saw that her throwing knife had fallen fr
om his stomach, that the wound had almost vanished.
One final weighted cord swung from his belt as he turned.
Caina snatched the cord, took two steps back, and flung it. The cord wrapped around Jabin's legs. Sorcery or not, superhuman strength or not, Jabin still lost his balance and crashed to the ground. Caina's mind raced through her options. Should she try to kill him? But how to kill a man already dead? Perhaps if she removed that choker chain, it might cancel the sorcery animating the corpse? Maybe, but that meant going within reach of Jabin's hands, and Caina doubted that she could escape a second time.
That left one option.
"Run!" said Caina. She sprinted towards the coaches, Lucan at her heels. The horses still screamed and neighed, no doubt in terror of the animated corpse clawing its way free from the cord. Lucan reached the nearest team of horses and tried to calm them.
"No!" said Caina. She doubted they could calm the horses, or outrun Jabin on foot.
They need a distraction.
She yanked the halters from the horse team. The terrified horses within bolted at once, dragging the coach behind them, screaming and neighing.
Lucan caught on to her idea, and they raced from team to team, pulling the halters free. One team bolted so quickly that the side of their coach smacked against Caina's temple, and she reeled for a moment, trying to keep her balance. But she glanced over her shoulder, saw Jabin stagger to his feet, only to be trampled by several thousand pounds of terrified horseflesh.
It wouldn't kill him. It wouldn't even slow him down for long. But it would slow him down long enough for Caina to escape with Lucan.
"That was clever," said Lucan. "Now what?"
"Now we run," said Caina.
"A sound plan," said Lucan, and they ran for it.
* * * *
A short time later they arrived at the nearest safehouse.
"A brothel?" said Lucan. "The Ghosts' safehouse is a brothel?"
"I'll have you know the Gilded Rose is the most exclusive brothel in the capital," said Caina. She walked towards the narrow door in the mist-choked alley.
"Yes, but why a brothel?" said Lucan.
He was embarrassed! Despite their grim circumstances, Caina was amused.
"The woman who owns the Rose has an arrangement with the Ghosts," said Caina.
What sort of arrangement, dare I ask?" said Lucan. "A favor for a... favor?"
"Of course not." Caina unlocked the door. A narrow set of stone stairs descended to a cool, dry cellar, the shelves stocked with weapons and supplies. "She permits us to use the cellar, and passes on secrets her whores learn from their wealthy clients. In exchange, we arrange for the city prefect to ignore the Rose. It's not ideal, but the Ghosts take allies where we can find them."
"So I'll be spending the night in a brothel," said Lucan. He snorted. "I don't know if my father will be appalled or pleased."
"So long as you don't spend any of his money, I doubt he'll mind."
"You've met him, I see," said Lucan. "What next?"
"Stay here," said Caina. "I'll make contact with the other Ghosts. We'll deal with Jabin... or whatever Jabin has become."
Lucan shook his head. "I'd prefer not to stay here like a rat in a trap."
"That's too bad," said Caina. "To put it bluntly, your life is more valuable than mine, or the other Ghosts. Perhaps the magi only wanted to kill you out of vengeance, but if they do kill you, they'll drive a wedge between your father and the Emperor. That could lead to civil war, and the deaths of thousands, even tens of thousands. All because you were too proud to wait a few hours in a brothel's cellar."
"My father doesn't care about me that much," said Lucan, but she heard the resignation in his voice.
"You are more formidable than I expected," said Caina. "But we'll have an easier time dealing with Jabin and any other assassins without you. They're looking for you. They won't be expecting the Ghosts. And..."
The room started to spin.
Caina grabbed at the wall for support. Something wet was trickling down her jaw. She lifted a hand to her masked face, saw blood on her gloved fingers.
That coach must have hit her head harder than she thought.
"You're bleeding," said Lucan, stepping forward.
"It's not serious," said Caina. "I..."
The next thing she knew, she was lying on a cot. Lucan knelt beside her, pulling at her cowl and mask. She opened her mouth to protest, reached for his wrists, but it was too late. Lucan pulled off her mask, a wine-soaked bandage in his hand, and his eyes widened with surprise.
Damn it.
"Countess Caina?" he said, astonished.
Caina nodded.
"You're a woman?"
Despite herself, Caina laughed. "To the best of my knowledge, yes."
"I mean... that you are Countess Caina. I never would have suspected," said Lucan. "That voice. How do you disguise your voice like that? You sound like a devil in human shape."
"Practice," said Caina, touching the side of her head. A lot of dried blood up there, and a painful spot, though the bleeding had stopped. "You might as well make yourself useful and clean that gash for me."
"Of course," said Lucan. Caina winced as hot wine tricked into the cut. "Though... I had heard all the stories about you. That you were the Emperor's spymaster and such. But I never thought you would take such an... active role."
"That was the point," said Caina. Lucan finished cleaning the gash and began applying a bandage. He was good at this. Caina supposed that he had bandaged quite a few of his own wounds. "You did quite well. You had me completely fooled. I thought you were..."
"A wine-sodden, idle lecher?" said Lucan.
"Something like that, yes." She smirked. "Or the sort of man who would enjoy visiting the capital's most exclusive brothel."
Lucan sighed. "Or the capital's most exclusive cellar, anyway. As for my... act, I have my reasons. When I was sixteen, my father arranged a marriage for me. I was opposed to it... but I grew to love her. She happened to see a magus practicing necromancy, so the magus killed her to cover up his crimes. No one believed me. No one helped me. So I decided to fight against the magi. Few people expect a wine-sodden scoundrel to be capable of such a thing."
Caina closed her eyes. "The magi killed my father when I was a child. And they killed the man who recruited me into the Ghosts, and more of my friends than I care to remember."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I do wonder about something," said Caina.
"Oh?" said Lucan.
"You invited me to the balls."
"Three times, as I recall."
"Why? Was that part of your act?"
"Why?" Lucan grinned. "Well. I did want to seduce you."
Caina gave him a level look. "That's all?"
"I would be lying if I claimed I didn't want to seduce you," said Lucan. "But my first week in the capital, I saw you at a ball. A servant spilled a glass of wine on your gown."
"That was... at Lord Torian's mansion, wasn't it?" said Caina. Torian had a regrettable habit of taking bribes, and Caina had gone to spy on him.
Lucan nodded. "If a serving girl spills wine on a noblewoman's gown, the girl's in for a beating. Or she'll be dismissed and thrown out onto the street to starve or whore for her bread. Yet you did none of those things. You laughed it off. I thought that was... remarkable. I had heard all the rumors about you, of course, so for you to show mercy to a servant seemed out of character. And... intriguing, to be honest."
Caina laughed.
"What?"
"I wanted to recruit that serving girl," said Caina. "Lord Torian is corrupt, and someone needs to keep an eye on him." She shrugged. "Besides, life is cruel enough as it is. Why make it crueler for some poor girl who dropped a glass of wine?"
"The magi think otherwise," said Lucan. "That the commoners are there to be used, and controlled, and molded."
"They're wrong," said Caina. She stood, stretched, moved her arms through the
opening positions of an unarmed block. Yes, she felt much better.
"That serving girl," said Lucan. "Did you recruit her?"
"The Ghosts need some secrets, my lord Lucan," said Caina. In fact, the girl had delivered detailed reports every week since. Soon Lord Torian would find himself before the magistrates, and the girl would receive a comfortable job in the house of another traitorous lord.
"The Ghosts, or women in general?" said Lucan.
Caina opened her mouth to answer when something pounded against the cellar door. She whirled, daggers in hand. A huge dent appeared in the steel door, and even as she watched another appeared, and another.
"They must have a battering ram," said Lucan.
"How?" said Caina. "No one followed us, I'm sure of it."
The next blow ripped the metal door clear from its hinges. Jabin strode into the room, his face slack, his eyes dull and lifeless. The gem in the chain around his neck blazed with green light, and the ghostly chains in his flesh burned with emerald flame.
"Kill me!" screamed Jabin. "Release me, I beg of you! Release me!"
A spell, Caina realized. A seeking spell had been laid upon that gem. Jabin would follow Lucan to the ends of the earth.
An anguished moan came from Jabin, and he started towards them.
"Run!" said Caina.
She spun and raced across the cellar, Lucan at her heels. A flight of stairs rested against the cellar's far wall, and Caina raced up them, kicked open the door, and hurried into the brothel's main room.
And came to a sudden, shocked halt.
The Gilded Rose had become a charnel house. The main room was cavernous, with fountains and silken hangings and a gleaming marble floor. It would have been lovely, if not for the puddles of blood. Bodies littered the floor, men and women alike. Some had died of sword wounds. Others had been torn to pieces.
Evidently it had taken Jabin some time to find his way to the cellar.
"Go!" said Lucan, pushing her clear of the door and slamming it behind them.
Caina snapped out of her daze and hurried towards the brothel's front doors. They had been smashed, no doubt by Jabin's entry. She jumped over a dead man, hot rage burning inside her. Whatever magus had hired Jabin would pay, she vowed, would answer for the blood spilled here.
Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXV Page 23