Ghost Wounds, Episode 2

You resolve to tell Lucan everything, take a deep breath, and knock at the door.

It swings open at your touch.

The door’s unlocked. Which concerns you. Lucan’s not quite as paranoid as you are, but he’s close, and he would never leave his door unlocked.

You step into his sitting room. The sunset’s dying light floods through the balcony doors, and right away you notice details. His weapons are missing – he keeps a crossbow in the trunk by the balcony, and a belt of daggers on that shelf, and both are absent. His priceless ghostsilver sword is gone as well.

A piece of paper lies on the center of the floor, alongside what looks like a length of white cord.

You pick up the paper. It’s a note, covered in spidery handwriting:

My dear lord Lucan,

It’s been ten years since I last saw your face, and I’ve missed you sorely. But not as much, I think, as your wife. Livia used to scream your name when I used the knives on her, scream for you to come save her. Of course, it has been ten years – now she just screams. I wonder if she even remembers your name. Or her own.

You slew my master Morneus, and it’s time for you to pay in full. Meet me at the Inn of the Golden Milestone by midday today. Come alone. If you are late, or if you bring anyone with you, Livia will pay for it. Dearly.

Oh, and if you tell anyone about this note – anyone – Livia will suffer for it. I know you’ve befriended the “Ghost Countess” so notorious among the commoners, and if you bring in the Ghosts or the Imperial Guard…well. You’ve failed Livia once. Don’t fail her again.

CROANNA

You turn the note over, look at the white cord. It’s not a cord. It’s a lock of hair. Platinum-colored hair, exactly as Lucan described his dead wife’s hair. The name Croanna stirs a memory, as well. Lucan told you that he killed Morneus and his apprentices, all save for the weakest one, who managed to escape.

Who apparently took Livia captive, rather than killing her.

You are surprised at the strength of the rage and pain that spikes through your mind. Why didn’t Lucan come to you? You have resources, you could have helped him. Why did he run off on his own? If he left at midday, then he’s been in the hands of this renegade necromancer’s apprentice for hours, and the gods alone know what she’s done to him…

Then training and hard experience take over, and your mind turns to ice. Think this through. If you don’t, Lucan is probably going to die.

Croanna warned Lucan not to tell anyone. Yet he knows how your mind works by now. He left the door unlocked, left the note on the floor. He wanted you to find it. For that matter, if Croanna wanted revenge, why didn’t she simply kill Lucan? Simple cruelty, perhaps?

Or some other purpose?

“My lady?”

You look up. An elderly man with the look of a kindly grandfather stands in the doorway. It’s Noraster, Lucan’s manservant. Lucan said Noraster was trustworthy. On the other hand, Lucan also thought his wife had been dead for ten years.

Noraster steps into the sitting room, and you notice something.

The shadows in the room are wrong. You are reasonably sure someone is hiding on the balcony, watching you.

“His lordship left in haste around noon,” says Noraster. “He did not say when he would return, alas.”

You say nothing, your eyes scanning the room. You look through the door into the bedroom, and you realize that another man is hiding under the bed. And from the way the wardrobe door is standing just slightly ajar, there’s probably another one lurking there.

An ambush.

“And…if your ladyship will forgive an old man a sentimental indulgence,” says Noraster, “permit me to say how pleased I am that you have come into his lordship’s life. Since you began your,” he coughs delicately, “ah, close association with his lordship, he is happier than I have seen him in years.”

You say nothing as you calculate. If you strike first (and you haven’t gone anywhere without a blade since you were eleven years old), you might turn the odds in your favor. On the other hand, the Ghosts own the Black Cuirass Inn, and you can call upon a dozen armed men from the common room. If you act like nothing is amiss, and go downstairs, you can quickly summon help.

But the ambushers might not let you leave.

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