The emphasis Shahad put on the word library was the same as many another noble would have put on the words the pox.

  “A scholar?”

  “Always writing books about the history of Maial, and the Old Ones we vanquished. There are rumours he dabbles in alchemy as well.”

  “And your wife became friends with this Balthazar.”

  “And his entire circle. She was always attending their parties.”

  “That troubled you?”

  He nodded and began to chew on his fingernails, noticed what he was doing and made a fist. “You hear stories about orgies and worse.”

  “Do you?”

  “Aye. They are thought a wild bunch in some circles. Count Stanlis warned me I had better get my wife under control. He reckoned I should have taken a horsewhip to her.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “It might have been better if I had. Maybe if I had, she would not be dead now. And maybe I would not have had to stand here talking to you.”

  “You think the circle led your wife astray?”

  “Her behaviour became much worse after she joined it. She had never taunted me with other men before. She had never taken drugs either.”

  “Drugs?”

  “I found powdered wyrmspike in her makeup boxes.”

  “You searched her makeup boxes?”

  “I thought she was using something—her behaviour became so erratic. Her pupils were always dilated. Sometimes she would cry for no reason. Or laugh like a mad thing. I worried about her. Wyrmspike! That’s strange stuff. Makes you see all sorts of visions. If you ask me, I think that’s what Balthazar and his sort were looking for.”

  “Visions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Some people do. A lot of hermits and mystics scourge themselves and take drugs to encourage such things.”

  “That’s all very well but I’m not a hermit or a mystic, and neither was my wife.”

  “Do you know the names of any of the people in the circle other than Count Balthazar?”

  “Baron Carim, Count Lothar are two who spring to mind. They are Balthazar’s chief toadies. I think they might be Separatists too.”

  “Separatists?”

  “They grumble about taxes, talk about how things would be better run by men on the spot. Balthazar is said to be well-regarded in such circles. People talk quietly about it, but they talk.”

  Kormak considered this. They were indeed a long way from Siderea and Prince Taran’s spies if chatter like this was heard among the nobles. Perhaps the Governor was right to tread carefully.

  “I think we shall pay a visit to Count Balthazar.”

  The Governor said, “You can’t just charge in there. He’s a wealthy man and a powerful one. He has servants and bodyguards. And a lot of friends among the nobility.”

  “How many bodyguards does he have.”

  “About a score guard his town house.”

  Kormak fell silent. Tonight he was going to take action. Somebody here needed to. That much was obvious. “I think I know where I can find enough to even the score.”

  “What?”

  “Come now, Governor,” said Zamara. “If the Count seeks vengeance personally, it cannot blow back on you. It is a matter of honour after all and the Count is apparently well known for his impetuosity.”

  Kormak considered this. There were possibilities inherent in this situation that even the Governor could not object to. “I think the Admiral may be on to something.”

  “He is?” The Governor could not keep the disbelief from his voice.

  “I think if the Count was to go around questioning people about his wife’s death that would be between him and his fellow nobles. And if I were present to act as his second . . .”

  “It does not get around the fact that many of the people who you need to talk to are powerful men with many bodyguards.”

  “I am sure the Count has bodyguards of his own, and I am sure Admiral Zamara would consent to be present to ensure that the rules of fair play are observed. The admiral has his own loyal retainers.”

  “I can see how you might think that possible,” said Zamara.

  Governor Aurin shrugged. “On your own heads be it. Please make it clear to all that you are acting as a private citizen and not as an agent of the crown, Count Shahad. That way you will not be applying a torch to an oil-soaked building.”

  “We will do our best,” said Kormak.

  “You want how many men?” Zamara asked.

  “The whole company. I am going to be paying a visit to a nobleman with his own private army, and I don’t want him to feel that he is at any advantage.”

  Governor Aurin stared. “Count Balthazar is a very respectable man. You can’t just go charging into his home. The people will be up in arms.”

  “The nobles you mean,” said Zamara.

  “They are all the people who count.”

  “I can always pay him a visit privately if you prefer,” said Kormak.

  “That would probably be politer.”

  Zamara grinned. “I don’t think you are following the Guardian, Governor. When he’s says privately he means by night, by stealth and with a blade in his hand. Things might go very badly for your friend if that happens.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “Then why are you protecting him?”

  “Admiral, you have a lot to learn about the business of ruling an Imperial Colony. The nobles can make a lot of trouble if they choose.”

  “The King-Emperor can do that too.”

  “With all due respect, Admiral, the King-Emperor, and his armies are an ocean away. The nobles are here. Provoke them enough and you will have a rebellion on your hands. In recent years Separatist sentiment has been growing.”

  “A rebellion against the King-Emperor’s lawful representatives. That would be treason.”

  “True but it will do us no good if we are lying on the ground with our throats cut.”

  “I am not frightened,” said Zamara.

  “That is the very thing that frightens me,” said the Governor. “I will no doubt get the blame for whatever you do. You don’t have to live here among these people. I do.”

  “I am sure the King can arrange to have you recalled,” said Zamara. “If that is what you wish.”

  The Governor groaned. “What I want is for my life to go back to what it was before you two showed up.”

  “Then help us, Governor,” said Kormak. “The sooner the affair of the sarcophagus is cleared up, the sooner I will be out of here.”

  “I’m doing my best,” said the Governor.

  “Admiral, it might be a good idea for you to gather your troops,” said Kormak. “I think we have a visit to pay.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I am not sure I like this,” said Shahad. There were fewer revellers here near the outskirts of Maial but those who were there filled the night with their songs and screams. From up ahead came the sound of frantic drumming and feverish piping. Lights blazed from a big house. The gates were thrown open so all could enter. It sounded like most of the neighbourhood were already there.

  “I would have thought you would have been all for it. It gets the investigation moving,” Kormak said.

  “It smacks of deceit. It feels underhand.”

  “The murder of your wife was hardly the work of an honourable man, was it?”

  “That is true.”

  They reached the gates of Count Balthazar’s mansion. The sounds of revelry came from within. The gardens were crowded. Couples intertwined beneath jacaranda trees, coupled beneath bushes. The air smelled of dreamsmoke and wyrmspike. The revelries had already reached a feverish pitch and the night was yet young.

  Shahad shouldered his way forward, Kormak followed with Rhiana alongside him. Zamara and the marines went with him. The guests in the garden saw the soldiers coming. Servants and bodyguards moved to meet them but stepped back when they saw the overwhelming force they faced. If there were more bodyguar
ds around, it seemed the revels kept them busy.

  Shahad advanced upon a tall, slender man and said, “Tell Count Balthazar I am here to see him.”

  “May I enquire what it is about?” the man replied. He had the servile yet refined voice of a house servant.

  “Tell him I want to talk to him about my wife’s death. No. Better yet lead me to him and I’ll tell him myself.”

  “That is very unorthodox, sir. Perhaps it would be better if you allowed me to communicate with my master. He is indisposed.”

  “You will be indisposed, permanently, if you do not take me to him now!”

  The snarl in Shahad’s voice would have intimidated far tougher men than Count Balthazar’s butler.

  The man turned on his heel and said, “Very well, sir. Under protest. Please follow me.”

  He led them through the mansion. There were screams at the sight of so many armed men. If they had hoped to avoid provoking the nobles by doing this, Kormak felt sure it was not going to work.

  They tramped upstairs past alcoves containing busts and statues of distinguished ancestors beneath which drunken men and women lolled. The butler led them to the last door in the corridor and banged on it. “Sire, you have a visitor. Count Shahad. He wishes to speak with you on a matter of some urgency.”

  Shahad kicked the door open. He bounded into the room, raced across to the bed and picked up its male occupant by the throat. “I want to talk to you about my wife’s death.”

  His victim was a tall, powerful man, but he struggled in vain against the Baron’s massive strength. His two nubile female companions emerged from the bed and raced for the door, only to be restrained by Zamara’s marines.

  Count Balthazar’s face had gone red. His breathing was raspy.

  “I don’t think he can talk to you,” Kormak said. “You are choking him.”

  Shahad shrugged and dropped his man.

  “What is the meaning of this outrage?” Count Balthazar demanded. He was wrapped only in a nightgown, but he managed to retain his dignity. It was rather impressive. His hair was dark and his face was smooth, but there was something about the eyes that made him seem much older than he looked.

  Shahad reached down and grabbed his testicles with one huge hand. He squeezed. Count Balthazar whimpered and went white. “My wife was killed last night. She was killed because she was part of your circle. You are going to tell me all about it, or I am going to kill you.”

  “This is a dishonourable act.”

  “Would you prefer I called on you and challenged you to a formal duel?”

  Count Balthazar was having some difficulty speaking again. Tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes. Kormak heard the sounds of the crowd outside. Some people were trying to organise resistance against this invasion. Others were leaving as quickly as they could.

  “Too bad!” Shahad said. He picked the man up again and slammed him against the wall.

  Count Balthazar groaned. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I had nothing to do with killing your wife, you madman.”

  “I am not hearing what I wanted to hear.”

  Shahad carried him over to the large slatted windows, kicked those open and stepped out onto the balcony. He raised Count Balthazar above his head.

  “I see you have an ornamental pool down there,” Shahad said. “I don’t know if I can toss you far enough so that you land in it. I am not sure it would be wise anyway. If you landed on top of that statue of Permius, you’d probably be impaled on his sword. What say you we give it a try anyway?”

  Balthazar shouted, “I don’t know what you are talking about, you lunatic. Put me down. Put me down!”

  Kormak said, “Hold for a minute. I think he is ready to talk.”

  “I will speak to you, sir, if you will restrain this maniac.”

  Shahad dropped him onto the heavily carpeted floor and put a booted foot on his chest. Balthazar glared up at him. There was no fear there, only burning hate.

  Kormak looked around the room. A collection of manuscripts sat on the well-stocked bookshelves. He walked over and picked a text about alchemy. He examined another. It concerned the legendary fountain of youth. They were the sort of books any dilettante scholar of the art might be expected to possess. These had been marked up more than most. There was nothing here that under normal circumstances he would have summoned the Inquisition for, but these were not normal circumstances.

  “If you are planning on prolonging your life, you might want to answer Baron Shahad’s questions and my own,” Kormak said. He kept his tone conversational. “The Holy Church frowns on such works as these.”

  Balthazar stared at him. He seemed to take in his height and his scars and the way the sword rested on his back. His face went even paler and just for a moment his eyes flickered over to one corner of the room as if seeking to see whether something was there. Kormak walked over to the place. The man looked at the walls now. Shahad had fallen silent, curious as to what Kormak was doing.

  Kormak reached the corner. There was nothing obvious there. No bookcase. No wardrobe. No cupboard. He tapped the wall and heard a faint hollow sound. “What have we here?”

  Count Balthazar seemed to have sobered up very quickly. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Kormak tapped the wall again. Another hollow thud.

  “You can’t just barge in here and start smashing up the house,” Count Balthazar said. “There is such a thing as private property you know.”

  “I can do as I wish,” Kormak said. “I have the full authority of the Crown and the Church behind me, and I have reason to believe that you are sworn to the powers of Shadow.”

  The man’s laugh sounded hollow and dry. “That is insane.”

  “You will have a chance to defend yourself before the Inquisition.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet I will and who are you?”

  “My name is Kormak. I am a Guardian of the Dawn and in this matter, the personal representative of King Aemon of Siderea.”

  “You have proof of this?”

  “I will happily provide it at the appropriate time.”

  “Am I under arrest then?”

  “You might be.”

  “Then get this lunatic off me.”

  “Count Shahad is acting in a private capacity. He believes he has a score to settle with you. I believe that too.”

  Count Balthazar looked suspicious, then awareness of the situation dawned on him. “You are hiding behind his name.”

  “I am hiding behind nothing. The situation is exactly as I stated.”

  “And you will simply let him kill me.”

  Kormak tapped on the wall again. He was tempted to ask Count Balthazar how to open the panel, but it would be too easy for him to set off any traps that might be behind it. He took his elder sign from his chest and touched the area. It did not grow warm. No spell was disrupted. Whatever was there was either dormant or mechanical in nature.

  Count Balthazar stared at him. “You seek to break into my treasure vault. Are you some common thief?”

  “Let us just say your selection of books interests me. I believe I might find a darker collection of tomes hidden there.”

  Count Balthazar looked smug. “By all means, go ahead.”

  It was always possible the vault was trapped. It might trigger if tampered with. Kormak had encountered such things in the past. That might be why Count Balthazar was encouraging him. Or he might be bluffing. Kormak looked at Rhiana, to see if she had sensed anything. She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head.

  “If you have nothing to hide, you will open it for me.”

  Kormak gestured, and Shahad took his foot off Count Balthazar’s chest. Balthazar rose to his feet, dusted himself down with one hand. Shahad pushed him forward towards Kormak. The shouting outside had intensified. It sounded like someone had got the bodyguards organised into a fighting force. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs.

  Count Balthazar smirked. “I think you
are going to have to leave now,” he said. “Come back with a warrant from the King and I will cooperate fully. I see no reason to endure this illegal search.”

  He almost shouted the words so that everyone could hear him. Shahad put a beefy arm around his neck and began to choke him. “You cannot hide behind the law on this. I will kill you myself.”

  “That would be murder,” Count Balthazar gasped.

  “I am prepared to stand trial for that. Are you prepared to go and meet the Shadow?”

  Count Balthazar smiled and said, “Yes.”

  Rhiana shouted a warning. Balthazar reached out, touched Shahad’s arm and spoke a word of power. Something black flickered from his hand, a serpent of Shadow. Shahad screamed. His face twisted in agony. His arm went limp and he dropped to the ground.

  Balthazar turned and glared at Kormak. An aura of greenish darkness flared around his hand. The marines flinched back. Kormak stepped forward. He held his elder sign between himself and Count Balthazar. “You cannot escape,” he said.

  “You are very sure of yourself.”

  “The Holy Sun protects me.”

  “But he does not protect them.” Count Balthazar gestured. Tendrils of Shadow flickered from his hands. The room darkened. Kormak drew his blade. The tendrils flashed past him and struck the marines. They too screamed and began to fall.

  The sound of fighting erupted in the corridor as the marines and the bodyguards came into contact. The marines were at a disadvantage, hearing their comrades going down and howling in agony and not knowing what was going on. The fight was going to go badly for them.

  Kormak glanced back. Count Balthazar raced out to the balcony and jumped. Kormak charged across the room and looked down. Balthazar had made it to the pool and was climbing out of it. The nimbus of black light still played around his hands. Those that noticed it screamed.

  Kormak leapt. He arced downwards, blade at the ready, knees flexing as the soft turf absorbed the impact of landing.

  Balthazar snarled. “Too late, Guardian. I am beyond your reach.”

  He raised his hand, and a curtain of darkness swirled around him. Kormak felt his elder sign grow warm. He held his breath in case there was some poison amid the mist of shadows. All around he could hear the sounds of screaming as people fled in terror.