Caina took a deep breath, broke the seal, and unrolled the scroll. Neat, orderly lines of High Nighmarian text marched across the thick paper.
“My dear Caina,” read the scroll. “I have known this information for a long time, and I have debated the wisdom of telling you. I knew firsthand how much you hate your mother, and I feared the effect it might have upon you. Nevertheless, you deserve to know the truth of your mother’s family. I hope to have the chance to tell you this in person, but as we both know too well, death can come swiftly and unexpectedly.
“As you recall, the Ghosts hunted for the necromancer Maglarion while you trained to become a nightfighter. One of the possible threads leading to him was your mother Laeria, who sold you to him in exchange for becoming his student. Perhaps Maglarion had contact with other members of your mother’s family, and so I spoke with the other circlemasters of the Ghosts, hoping to trace Laeria’s allies.
“I soon found more than I wished to know. Your mother was born Laeria Scorneus, the youngest daughter of a powerful high magus named Hyraekon Scorneus. House Scorneus has long been powerful and influential in the eastern Empire, both for good and ill, and the family has produced both noble lords and cruel tyrants. Hyraekon himself had seven daughters before he died, and all of them displayed sorcerous potential. Of the seven, Laeria was the weakest, too weak for the Magisterium to accept as an initiate, and you know her fate.
“Of the remaining six daughters, all of them were accepted into the Magisterium, and all six became magi of tremendous power. Caina, if you are reading this after my death, then I must warn you of the dangers your family poses. Of the six daughters, the second daughter Ariadne, the fifth daughter Jocarna, and the sixth daughter Cybele are all friends and allies of the Ghosts and of the Emperor. Both Ariadne and Jocarna served as battle magi in the Emperor’s armies, and while Cybele lacks their raw power, she is nonetheless quite shrewd and has many friends. Should you encounter any of them, you may trust them.
“The eldest daughter Rania, the third daughter Selene, and the fourth and middle daughter Talmania are all extremely dangerous. They are rumored to be necromancers of vast power, and all three women are opposed to the Emperor and favor the magi ruling the Empire once more. I furthermore believe that all three sisters are members of a secret society called the Umbarians or the Order, a society within the Magisterium dedicated to overthrowing the Emperor and seizing control of the Empire.
“You will recall that during your journey to Calvarium and Caeria Ulterior I had you disguise yourself as Rania Scorneus. It was an effective disguise, I fear, because you bear a marked physical resemblance to all six of your aunts. All of them have roughly the same build, similar facial features, blue eyes, and black hair (Rania, the sole exception, is blond). I fear the Scorneus blood is strong, and the Scorneus look is distinctive in you.
“However, of all your aunts, you resemble Talmania the most, and that is a dangerous thing. Rania is the most powerful of the six, but Talmania is the cleverest. I have often been amazed at your gifts of observation and deduction, and Talmania possesses similar traits. She has a keen intellect, tremendous sorcerous strength, and complete and utter ruthlessness. Out of all your mother’s family, beware her if you cross her path. She will not hesitate to kill you simply on the possibility that you might one day become a threat.
“Finally, if I am indeed dead, then know that you have my thanks and my blessing. When I recruited you into the Ghosts, I suffered a crisis of conscience. I knew I was taking a frightened young girl and turning her into a weapon. Some of the others suggested that I take you to the Temple of Minaerys as a novice, or that I find you a wealthy or powerful husband who was a friend to the Ghosts. My conscience troubled me, but as I look back at what you have done, I find that my doubts have been stilled. If not for you, Malarae would be a city of corpses, and the Empire would have fallen into ruin. I shudder to think of what might have happened had you not become a nightfighter of the Ghosts.
“If I can presume to offer a final piece of counsel, I would urge you to know when the time has come to step back from serving as a nightfighter. No one can live on vengeance forever, not even you. I see what you have built in Malarae with Corvalis, and perhaps the time has come to settle there. I wish for you to have some joy in life, for I know you have had little, and you deserve it.
“May the gods of the Empire watch over you.”
Caina stared at the final line and then bowed her head, her eyes stinging.
###
Kylon put his hands on Caina’s shoulders as she wept in silence.
His wife never cried. Her emotions often felt like ice wrapped around fire, a result of her iron self-control and the old rage in her heart. The only time he had ever seen her cry had been the day he had asked her to marry him.
Those had been tears of joy, but these were tears of sorrow, old sorrow. She rested her head against his stomach and cried in silence, her emotions roiling.
“It is funny,” said Theodosia in a soft voice.
Caina blinked and looked up, her blue eyes bloodshot. “What is?”
“He wrote all that before New Kyre,” said Theodosia. “Before Istarinmul and Iramis.” She smiled. “All you did was prove him right about you once again.”
“Ah, Theodosia,” said Caina. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, her roiling emotions starting to settle. “I never like it when people say nice things about me. I’m supposed to be a spy, and spies are supposed to remain unseen.”
Kylon snorted and kissed the top of her head. “You should have thought of that before half of Istarinmul saw you battle Grand Master Callatas.”
“True,” said Caina. She took a long, ragged breath, and sat up straighter. “Well. This letter confirms one thing.”
“What’s that?” said Theodosia.
“Talmania is as dangerous as we thought,” said Caina. “As if we did not have enough proof of it already. Whatever we do next, we ought to make sure that Talmania cannot claim the Ring of Rasarion Yagar.”
“It is fortunate you arrived at Vagraastrad after she left,” said Theodosia. “I think it would be better if you traveled with us to Risiviri in two days. There are not many bandits on the road in Ulkaar in the winter, but there are still undead and spirits from the forest. Frankly, I would feel far safer if we had your dashing husband and his valikon with us.”
Kylon snorted. “Really? I was going to say I would feel safer traveling with your company. No one pays attention to actors.”
Theodosia laughed. “Why, Lord Kylon! How very enlightened of you. Most nobles would not be so wise.”
“When we’re traveling to Risiviri,” said Kylon, “you can ask Caina how we got back into Istarinmul before Cassander Nilas tried to destroy the city. Ask her about Natalia of the Nine Knives.”
He was touching Caina, so he felt the flash of surprise that went through her, followed by the amusement.
“That was a good day,” she said. She took a long breath. “But, yes, you’re both right. It would be better to travel with the theater company.” She blinked a few times and smiled at Theodosia. “I don’t suppose you have need of a maid named Marina?”
“I fear not,” said Theodosia. “Ilona works for me now. She’s also the nightkeeper of my Ghost circle, incidentally, so we can talk freely in front of her. No, you said that Lord Sebastian had been hired to take Sophia Zomanek south to be wed. We’ll stick to that story, I think, but we’ll also say that I hired you to help guard the company on the journey south. A reasonable precaution in these troubled times, is it not?”
Caina took a long, ragged breath, and Kylon felt her seething emotions settle. “Yes. Yes, it is. I doubt Seb would protest.” She stood up. “We’re staying at the Szlacht’s Sword across the street.”
“So is the company, as it happens,” said Theodosia. “That old rogue Laskar charged us entirely too much, but it is the New City’s best inn, and it’s much too expensive to stay in the Old City. And not that I want to
sleep in the shadow of Cazmar Vagastru’s ruined castle anyway.” She grinned. “We’ll have to catch up. I haven’t seen you for three years, and you walk into my theater with a handsome husband…and what’s this about Natalia of the Nine Knives?”
###
To Seb’s great amusement, Ilona had started flirting with him, likely to pump him for information.
It was amusing, true…but he had to admit he was enjoying himself.
“I’ve never met a battle magus of the Magisterium before,” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure you have,” said Seb.
“Well, yes,” said Ilona. “From a distance, of course. In Risiviri I saw them quite often, at least before the war began. But I have never spoken to one before. Are you all so well-spoken?”
“We most certainly are not,” said Seb. “A question, madam, if I may.”
Ilona raised a black eyebrow. “Madam? Is that a term of respect or are you implying that I run a house of ill repute?”
“A…house of ill repute, Lord Sebastian?” said Sophia, who had been watching the conversation with confusion.
“Ask Lady Caina,” said Seb. “But in this instance, it is a term of respect. I cannot help but feel that we have met before. I have passed through Risiviri many times.”
Ilona winked. “Perhaps you have seen me dance, Lord Sebastian.”
Seb smiled before he could stop himself. “I am entirely certain that would be a memorable experience, madam.”
“Perhaps if you are fortunate,” said Ilona, “you shall find out.”
The moment stretched between them.
“Could I ask a question?” said Sophia.
Seb was both relieved and annoyed that Sophia had broken the tension.
“Certainly,” said Seb.
“Mistress Ilona,” said Sophia. “Do you know this man?”
She gestured to Teodor, who had sat silently on the bench since they arrived.
“I am afraid that I do not,” said Ilona. She stood, circled around Seb and Sophia, and squatted in front of the old man, looking into his eyes. Or trying to, anyway, since Teodor didn’t seem to be looking at anything. “But I can tell you that he’s a witchfinder of the Temple.”
“How did you know that?” said Sophia.
“He loosed his collar when he came into the theater,” said Seb, “and the top of his tattoos were visible.”
“Oh,” said Sophia. “Yes, of course.”
“Very good, Lord Sebastian,” said Ilona, flashing a smile at him. The smile faded. “But…no, I don’t know him, I'm afraid. You must have found him wandering someplace, yes? Perhaps his mind is going with age.”
“Not quite,” said Seb. He decided to see how she would react to the truth. “We found him pursued by a pack of reveniri a few miles north of the city. I am not certain, but I think that his mind was attacked by a necromancer and damaged.”
Ilona took that without surprise. “One of the lesser Temnoti is probably the culprit. Those vile cultists are everywhere in the northern part of Ulkaar. Before the civil war started, fear of the Magisterium and the Emperor made them work in secret.” She shook her head. “Now they come out into the open, and Voivode Gregor gives them his protection. They say the Voivode has even secretly abandoned the Divine and offers blood sacrifices to Temnuzash. At least Boyar Mircea does not permit such wickedness in Risiviri.”
“Svetlana,” croaked Teodor, his watery eyes focusing on Ilona.
“Who?” said Ilona, blinking in surprise.
“His daughter,” said Seb. “We think he was looking for his daughter.”
“Do you know Svetlana?” said Teodor. “You look like her. You’re pretty, like her.” Ilona flashed a smile at him. “But I can’t find her. Do you know where she is?”
“I do not, sir, I am sorry,” said Ilona. “Do you know what happened to her?”
“I…I can’t remember.” Teodor’s face screwed up in a tremendous scowl. “There was…a woman? Yes, a woman. Fire. A crypt. And a…glass…”
“A drinking glass?” said Ilona.
“A glass coffin,” sighed Teodor, as if the effort had exhausted him. He slumped on the bench, his eyes once more staring at nothing.
“The poor man,” said Ilona. She looked at Seb. “In all probability, his daughter is dead. If he fell afoul of a cult of the Temnoti, they might have killed her. Especially if she was a virgin. Virgin’s blood had all manner of practical uses in the necromancy of the Temnoti.”
Sophia shivered. “Who would choose to worship something as cruel as Temnuzash?”
Ilona shrugged as she straightened back up. “The human heart is a wicked thing. Some men and women would do it for greed and lust for power, or for simple spite against their foes. Others become desperate, and in fear of their lives turn to the Temnoti for help.”
Sophia scowled. “I was desperate for my life, and I didn’t ask the Temnoti for aid.”
Ilona smiled. “Were you really?”
“She was, madam,” said Seb, remembering the Boyar’s Hunt that had almost taken place in Kostiv. “Her fate was nearly cruel and bloody. She was indeed desperate for her life.”
“Then I am pleased you escaped that fate, Sophia,” said Ilona. “As for Teodor, we…”
The door behind the stage swung open, and Caina, Kylon, and Theodosia returned. Seb’s eyes flicked over them and then settled upon Caina. She looked a little paler than when she had gone with Theodosia, and her eyes were bloodshot. Seb thought that she had been crying. Had Theodosia given her bad news?
Sophia got to her feet and hurried to Caina. Seb looked at Ilona, shrugged, stood, and followed her to the others. Teodor remained where he was.
“My lady, are you all right?” said Sophia.
“Yes,” said Caina. “Actually, I am.” She smiled. “Some unexpected news, that’s all.” She looked at Seb. “Theodosia’s company is traveling south to Risiviri the day after tomorrow. Kylon and I think it would be best if we traveled with them.”
“I agree,” said Seb. “Traveling in a large group is the best way to travel anywhere in Ulkaar.” Though Theodosia’s company would likely be far safer for Caina’s and Kylon’s presence since they both carried valikons.
“Lord Sebastian,” said Theodosia, her gray eyes turning towards him. “A question.”
“Yes, madam?” said Seb.
“Did Talmania Scorneus really kill your wife?” said Theodosia.
She had. She had done worse than kill Katrina, too. Talmania had also taken Katrina’s severed head, boiled away the flesh, carved arcane sigils onto the skull, and cast her wretched necromancy over it. Katrina’s soul was beyond the reach of any necromancy. But her shade, the shadow she had cast upon the netherworld, the shadow all living mortals cast into the netherworld, was now bound within the skull, whispering its secrets to Talmania.
The hell of it was that Katrina didn’t really have any secrets. She hadn’t been a magus or a powerful noble. She had been one of the younger daughters of a minor noble house of Risiviri. Seb had married her for love, not for power or advantage, which he supposed had utterly baffled Talmania. Or it had annoyed her.
And out of that annoyance, she had killed Katrina.
“Yes,” Seb heard himself say. “She did.”
He felt Ilona staring at him, and did not want to look at her.
“My condolences,” said Theodosia. “Talmania killed my youngest son.”
“I am sorry,” said Seb. “But if you are gathering all those who have been wronged or lost family to Talmania Scorneus…I think you’re going to need a much bigger theater.”
“Indeed.” She smiled briefly. “I think we’re going to get on splendidly, young man.”
Seb laughed. “No one’s called me that for a while.”
“I am surrounded by children,” said Theodosia, “and I am an ancient crone, guiding the youth towards wisdom.”
“You are not that old, mistress,” said Ilona.
“Flattery is a useful skill, my
dear,” said Theodosia. “Come, my friends. We have rooms at the Szlacht’s Sword.” Her gray eyes turned back to Seb. “Let us discuss how to deny our mutual enemy what she seeks.”
“Yes,” said Seb. “I think I would enjoy that.”
Chapter 7: Iron King
Fortunately, the Szlacht’s Sword had a spacious common room, because Theodosia’s company nearly filled it up.
Caina sat at a table with Kylon, Theodosia, Seb, Ilona, and Sophia, with Sophia keeping an eye on Teodor. Theodosia had nearly forty people in her theater company, men and women both. Master Vespius looked a bit bedraggled, but he ran the company with an iron fist, and for such a thin man he had an astonishingly loud voice. Ilona assisted him, from time to time rising from the table to help resolve a dispute between the actors. Caina’s own experience with Theodosia at the Grand Imperial Opera had taught her that actors tended towards emotional outbursts, but Theodosia had made sure to hire actors who also possessed practical skills – carpenters, wagon drivers, a blacksmith, and so on. Despite her artistic temperament (giddy nervousness before a performance, followed shortly afterward by soaring elation and black depression), Theodosia had a shrewd head for business, and Caina was unsurprised to learn that the company turned a consistent profit.
That heartened Caina. Losing Niklos in such a cruel way must have been a devastating blow. Caina feared that Theodosia would lapse into lethargic depression or destructive fury after such a loss. If Theodosia had, she had gotten over it. Instead, she was pursuing revenge against Talmania Scorneus in a systematic way – all while turning a profit and strengthening the circles of the Ghosts in Ulkaar.
Caina hadn’t dealt with grief so well in the past. The last time she had been in mourning, she had more or less overthrown the government of Istarinmul to deal with it.
So, while Caina was sad for Theodosia, she wasn’t worried about her, which freed her mind to turn to Halfdan’s letter.
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