Old Man's Ghosts

by Tom Lloyd

  ‘Just his job, but this ain’t so much of a coincidence. He said he told you about the hounds?’

  ‘He did – my sources tell of several more murders two nights past. Will I be hearing of more later this morning?’

  ‘I don’t know about that, but it’s a complicated story. Not sure it’s all mine to be telling you, but the short of it is: we know who the hounds are after.’

  ‘Let me think, what would be the most foolish thing to do in this situation? Ah, yes. Has Narin given them shelter, as he once did you?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  ‘So in effect you have a hellhound after you as well.’

  ‘Don’t be silly – ah, my Lord Sun.’ Kashte inclined his head to acknowledge the effort, not bothering to keep the small smile from his face, so Kesh hurriedly continued. ‘What’s one hellhound, after all?’

  ‘More than one?’

  She coughed. ‘It might be there’s a pack of ’em. Possessing the bodies of warrior castes, too.’

  ‘Wyvern warrior castes?’ Kashte asked with a sigh.

  ‘Among others.’

  Unexpectedly, the Imperial laughed loudly. ‘Tell Master Narin he is either the unluckiest man in the Empire, or he really should choose his friends more carefully.’

  Kesh bit back her first thought there, half-joking though it would have been. She’d already got away with more familiarity than was safe.

  ‘I will tell him, my Lord Sun.’

  ‘Good.’ He pointed towards a street entrance ahead. ‘Come, it’s this way. Try to look presentable, it will already be scandalous I’m bringing a servant with me.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord Sun. Ah, where, might I ask?’

  ‘The Failkeep, if you must know. If Lord Vanden is indeed returning today, as our information suggests, that’s where he will enter the city.’

  ‘You’re going to suggest Prince Sorote’s compromise today?’

  Kashte gave her a strange look. ‘One does not simply blurt such a thing out in the street. A negotiation involving lords is a delicate affair; there are forms to be adhered to and conventions to be obeyed.’ He sniffed. ‘It should go without saying that if you speak during any of it, unless directly addressed, I will break your jaw for your insolence. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Yes, my Lord Sun.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  Narin crossed the threshold of the Palace of Law and felt a now-familiar sense of easing. The streets remained perilous for him, but that great doorway signified a sanctuary in his mind. Kine’s family would not attack him openly, he knew that much. Most likely he was safe on the public streets where he was in plain view, but the Palace of Law was an inviolable step. Kine’s younger brother, Shonray, would be leading any blood feud, she had assured Narin. Perversely, it was Shonray’s obsession with honour that kept Narin safe.

  They want me, my head and Dov’s. You are lesser to them, a detail to be dispatched at their leisure. Shonray would be within his rights to challenge you to combat; the Lord-Martial of the Lawbringers himself could not countermand it without a direct appeal to the Emperor, but he will not. So long as he needs to find me, you are safe in public places.

  ‘How safe I am from hellhounds remains to be seen,’ Narin muttered to himself as he headed towards the stairs.

  Before he’d gone a half-dozen steps he stopped, some sixth sense prickling at the back of his neck. Narin glanced around. It was mostly Lawbringers and Investigators arriving for their morning toil, but off in the wings there was a figure out of place – one stood quite still, staring straight at him.

  The winter chill of fear slithered down his spine but then he made out the figure itself – wearing a long robe with a hood hung low over the face. It seemed familiar and certainly nothing a warrior caste would wear. Narin gave a start as the figure took a step towards him, but in the next moment the pieces clicked into place in his mind. He approached and bowed.

  ‘Mistress Samaleen,’ Narin said formally, ‘how may I help you?’

  The pagan priestess stopped short. She hesitated for a moment before sweeping back the hood to reveal the Raven heritage of her face and the tears streaking her cheeks. Even then she did not speak at once and Narin found his own voice stilled.

  ‘You’ve brought death to a sacred place,’ she said, in a strained voice. ‘You bring death in your shadow.’

  ‘What? What’s happened?’ Narin took a step forward and lowered his voice. ‘Did more Wyvern warriors come to your temple?’

  The scorn was immediately evident on her face. ‘What does the summoner want?’ she demanded.

  ‘A … a man, we believe. They hunt a man.’

  ‘Just one man?’

  Narin faltered. ‘What happened?’

  ‘The death that walks in your shadow,’ she spat. ‘That’s what happened. The ghosts that march at your side.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Of course you don’t – you have no understanding of my world. You blunder through with your Imperial badge and your sword, trusting them to keep you safe and caring nothing for those in your path. What has happened? Two of my kin were murdered last night, along with the man who guards our door. The man you threatened.’

  Narin began to protest his innocence, fearing he was about to be publicly accused of murder, but she cut him off.

  ‘They are all dead – tortured and brutalised, their eyes put out and their corpses used to pollute the sacred waters.’

  Samaleen’s voice took on an even harder tone. ‘Their eyes put out,’ she repeated. ‘Burned with sticks left in them and still alight when they were found. I may not know much of hellhounds, but lore speaks of how they burn a soul out from the eyes.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean it’s hellhounds,’ Narin objected.

  ‘It’s a message,’ she hissed, ‘of that I’m sure. This was the summoner or some mortal servant of theirs. Demons could never gain easy entry to our sacred places, but it’s in the nature of hounds to claim territory as they pass. We have no rivals here that might want to strike at us and divert attention elsewhere. A human killed my priests and I do not doubt it was done under orders of this summoner.’

  Narin blinked. ‘You think the summoner’s here to stay? Claiming the city as his home territory?’

  ‘You think they hunt a single man? To risk exposure in this place for one man alone?’ She shook her head. ‘These murders are a warning to the beings of the hidden waters, that much is clear to me. A warning and a challenge.’

  ‘One you intend to rise to?’ Narin asked coldly.

  ‘And be led by the nose? Don’t be foolish. I am here to tell you the summoner has made this threat and you would be best served to catch them soon.’

  ‘And if I cannot?’

  ‘My people cannot keep their heads down forever, the spirits of the waters will not run and hide. If there are more attacks or the summoner continues to roam free in this city, there will be a response. Perhaps that is what they want, but either they’re ignorant or they over-estimate their own power.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The spirits of the waters are mindful of tensions in this city; they have no intention of inflaming any human conflict.’

  ‘But?’ Narin prompted.

  Samaleen cocked her head at him. ‘Tell me, Lawbringer, have you ever heard of the Apkai?’

  He frowned. ‘I, ah, yes, in actual fact. The highest order of demons.’

  ‘Gods by another name,’ she confirmed. ‘Is that a conflict you want to see on the streets of this city?’

  Narin shook his head. ‘But why would the summoner risk such a thing? Surely they know you serve the Apkai?’

  ‘I am no servant,’ she snapped. ‘I am no priest to bow and scrape. We are seekers of understanding, walkers in the hidden realms – to do that we forge alliances and allegiances, but we are not pets. The spirits of the waters I am aligned to are, however, themselves bound to those of greater power and soon they will stir those p
owers to action. If your hellhounds are carving themselves a territory, they will soon incur the wrath of something far greater – beings only the Gods themselves could stop, should they choose to unveil the full majesty of their power. Do not let this escalate, Lawbringer. Do not let these fools bring destruction down upon the city.’

  Without waiting to hear a response, Samaleen tugged her hood up again and stalked away, leaving Narin open-mouthed and staring after her.

  ‘More good news, Lawbringer?’ said a voice behind him once Samaleen was outside.

  He sighed inwardly and turned to the familiar pale face of Lawbringer Rhe. ‘Guess.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Depends if you want hellhounds picking a fight with the native demons of the city.’

  ‘On balance, no. At present I’m wondering how long it will take for House Dragon to take an active interest. They may ignore rumours for a certain time, but if there are more bodies on the street they will be persuaded otherwise.’

  ‘I know,’ Narin said, ‘and that’s not the only good news for the morning.’

  Rhe paused. ‘I am starting to dread hearing news from you, Lawbringer Narin.’

  At that, Narin had to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. The idea that the cold, lethal former nobleman could dread anything seemed entirely impossible. The look on Rhe’s face was sobering though – containing as little humour as it did dread.

  ‘I’m afraid you might be right with that one,’ Narin muttered. ‘I’d like to say at least things couldn’t get much worse, but not even I believe that.’

  CHAPTER 20

  As they reached the Failkeep, the veneer of sociability dropped away from Prince Kashte’s manner with all the abruptness of a portcullis. Kesh had expected to be dismissed in some fashion, but still the shift in his manner left her startled. After sharing a boat across the Crescent with the young Imperial, they walked up through Arbold Warranty to the wide plaza that led to the city’s principal gate.

  The plaza was a six-sided expanse open at one end, opposite the enormous city gate, while shops and eateries occupied two tiers of arcade on the other four sides. Six great columns defined the boundaries the eateries were allowed to sprawl to – twenty feet of granite decorated with gold, atop which were statues of the six Greater Gods. The God-Emperor and God-Empress stood on the nearer edge of the plaza, their benevolent gaze cast toward the distant palace of their descendant, Emperor Sotorian.

  Behind them stood the other four in their allotted positions, Lords Knight and Smith behind the God-Emperor, the Ladies Shaman and Jester behind the God-Empress. All were beautifully detailed in gold and white marble, but the plaza was still dominated by the Gate of the New Sun behind them. It was a three-quarter disc thirty feet high, sheathed entirely in polished brass and engraved with the names of every Emperor to follow the Gods themselves. The gate was a testament to the divine, just as the broken remains of a stronghold framing it reminded all passers-by of the Ten Day War that broke Imperial power forever.

  In the depths of winter there were no tables set out in the open air and today was no exception, with the puddles on the ground frozen solid. However, it took no more than a look from Prince Kashte to have one brought out from the coffee house nearest the God-Emperor’s statue. Kesh glimpsed dark wooden panels and staring faces through the doors as they were flung open by the house’s staff, while Kashte merely sniffed and waited for a chair to be placed behind him.

  Kesh moved behind the Imperial, skirting the shop-fronts until she had a view of both Kashte’s face and the grand open gate. From there he would summon her like a servant if needed and she was unlikely to be disturbed. Prince Kashte had settled himself between two columns, facing the gate and seemingly oblivious to the looks he received from travellers and locals alike. She doubted an Imperial had ever likely patronised the coffee house before – despite its long-standing reputation, the highest castes had no need of visiting places of commerce outside the palace – and certainly not just appearing on foot.

  It was seconds before a tall silver pot was brought out on a tray along with a selection of sweet pasties, the sight of which made Kesh’s stomach groan. Kashte muttered something she couldn’t catch to the waiter as he served the prince, tossing down a silver coin. The man bowed low and hurried away while Kashte ignored the drink, sitting with a studied idleness as he watched the myriad figures entering the city.

  Kesh knew such dedication was hardly necessary. Lord Vanden, a nobleman of House Wyvern, would hardly slip through unnoticed, whether or not he was modestly positioned within the House. First would come a liveried beater, cracking his stick on the ground to clear a path, then low-ranked warrior castes in battle dress before the litters of retainers and family. The canopied carriage of Lord Vanden would follow those, and perhaps a pair of mounted knights before the servants and carts of luggage all followed by more soldiers. Such a parade was standard when nobles travelled between homes and it made enough noise to give ample warning to anyone expecting it.

  ‘Ah, Mistress?’

  Kesh jumped at the unexpected voice. She turned to discover a nervous-faced waiter standing at her side in a grey uniform with a white caste collar. He held a silver tray upon which was a steaming earthenware mug.

  ‘Yes?’ Kesh said, realising the man was waiting for her to respond.

  ‘Ah, your Master has instructed we keep him supplied with coffee for as long as he remains.’

  ‘Master? Oh, yes, the Lord Sun. Well good, he may be here a while.’

  ‘It is the house custom to provide drink for servants too, for as long as they attend their lords and ladies.’

  ‘Really? That’s for me?’

  The man inclined his head. ‘Edict obligates Imperial castes to pay for all goods up front, a decree of Emperor Jakerien if memory serves. Noble and Imperial castes traditionally pay well above any likely price and your Master’s largesse is particular.’

  ‘It is?’ Kesh shrugged. ‘Can’t complain then, can I? What’s that, tea?’

  ‘Indeed.’ He offered the tray forward but Kesh made no move to take it.

  ‘Given my Master’s largesse,’ she said carefully, ‘how’s about you bugger off with that and fetch me some warm wine instead?’

  The flicker of a smile crossed the man’s face. They were both servant caste and both knew perfectly well that the coffee house owner would be furious, but not in front of a prince of the royal blood.

  ‘As you wish, Mistress. I, ah, it looks like your Master is settled in there. Best you don’t overdo it, given Imperials who carry guns tend to have short tempers so far as I’ve heard.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about me,’ she said, smiling sweetly, ‘your Master will water the wine so we’ll end up even I’m sure.’

  The waiter bowed to her and backed away, disappearing back into the coffee house with her request. Before long she was sipping at a delicious cup of clove-spiced wine and finally feeling ready to settle in for a long, dull morning. Protocol was far from her strong suit, but Prince Kashte had told her to go with him and the rest of the city would have to wait as a result.

  Kesh knew she couldn’t ignore an Imperial’s wishes, whatever Narin or Enchei might need, but while patience wasn’t a natural virtue of hers, the young woman had learned it well enough. She settled back into a corner of the arcade’s pillars and got comfortable, scanning the crowd for Wyverns of all types while ahead of her Kashte lounged as only a prince could.

  Bastard knows I can’t sit down, Kesh realised, catching the man glance very slightly at her out of the corner of his eye. That probably makes this amusing for him.

  It took two hours of standing, by which time her feet were numb and her knees aching, and two false alarms of noble castes arriving. It was a strange, disconcerting feeling for a woman able to work all day on the deck of a ship. The constant motion became part of you then, the activity and movement rolling through your body and becoming part of the work you were doing. To stand perfectly still
was alien to Kesh; to keep as still as a soldier on guard rather than let Kashte see her shift and fidget was an arduous task, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her bend.

  Kesh almost gasped with relief when she heard the whip-crack of a cane beat the flagstone floor of the plaza. She saw Kashte stiffen at the sound too, also unwilling to reveal his eagerness. He had a better view of the gate, though, and she realised by his manner that it must indeed be Lord Vanden heading back to discover the news of his pregnant wife. With a studied carelessness, Kashte popped a final piece of pastry into his mouth and made a show of brushing the crumbs from his fingers. Kesh moved forward a shade but, without looking at her, the young nobleman gestured for her to keep her place.

  He pushed himself up and ambled forward as a tall Wyvern woman in blue passed, cracking a five-foot-long cane on the ground with crisp, practised strikes, then a quartet of warrior-caste soldiers in greatcoats. As the carriage, large enough for four passengers, reached the centre Kashte took another step forward and, with a flick of the fingers, signalled to the driver to reign in.

  A bejewelled hand pushed at the carriage curtain and a round face appeared there, poised ready to bellow at the driver before he saw the impressive Imperial caste standing just before him. Forgetting her place entirely, Kesh stared in fascination at the middle-aged noble with thinning hair who was husband to the radiant Lady Kine. She knew the match had been made because Kine was born warrior caste, but the pairing remained somewhat ludicrous.

  Kesh couldn’t help but wonder if Lord Vanden realised how ridiculous he must have looked to the rest of his House; a man without great power, prowess or looks, with a notable beauty on his arm. Marrying a lower caste was not unheard of at all, but to Kesh this negotiated pairing smacked of a dull man with a desperate need to impress.

  ‘My Lord Sun,’ Lord Vanden stuttered, fumbling a moment with the door catch before finally managing to scramble out and bow. ‘Might I assist you in something?’

  From behind the carriage a large warrior caste with greying hair stepped forward, weapons on show, as the armed Imperial neared his lord. Vanden stopped his bodyguard with a gesture and the man eventually bowed to Kashte, receiving not even a look in return. Both were so intent on the prince they didn’t notice Kesh edge as close as she dared without intruding.