Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone by Jonathan Moeller Read Free Book Online Page A

him,” said the slave. “Please, mistress, follow me.” 
    Why would Khosrau want to speak with her? Did he know that she was a Ghost? No, that seemed unlikely. But he would know that Marina, brother of Maric, was Theodosia’s servant. Perhaps that was it.
    “Of course,” said Caina.
    The slave bowed and led the way. Caina walked past the stage, and the man led her to the largest box, where the slaves attended the chief nobles of Cyrica. Lord Governor Armizid, stern and grim, occupied the center of the box. Lord Khosrau sat at his right, eating grapes fed to him by a waiting slave. Lord Corbould sat at his side, watching the opera with polite interest. Ranarius stood in the corner, stark and forbidding in his black robes, the blind slave girl sitting at his feet.
    The girl’s blindfolded face turned towards Caina as she entered. 
    “Master,” said the slave, kneeling before Khosrau. “I brought the singer’s servant, as you commanded.”
    Khosrau waved a hand, jewels glittering on his thick fingers. “Yes, well done.”
    “A servant?” said Armizid, looking at Caina with distaste. “Bad enough that we fawn over an opera singer, but now we must speak with their drudges?”
    “Now, now,” said Khosrau. “There’s no need for churlishness, my son.” His dark eyes turned towards Caina, glittering over his white beard. “Come closer, my dear, so I can see you. Oh, you needn’t fear that I will ravish you. I’ve drunk far too much wine for that.” 
    Corbould snorted. “In thirty years you haven’t changed, Khosrau.”
    “I certainly have,” said Khosrau, and he threw a roguish wink at Caina. “Thirty years ago I could have fought all day, drunk all night, and then taken this lovely young lady and her twin sister to bed and left them more satisfied than they’ve ever been in their lives.” He sighed. “But, all things must change.” For a moment a note of melancholy entered his voice. “Even Cyrica.”
    “My lord is much too kind to a poor servant,” said Caina, keeping her eyes downcast.
    Khosrau roared with laughter, and even Corbould chuckled. Armizid’s scowl deepened, while Ranarius watched the exchange in silence. The slave girl at his feet kept her face turned towards Caina. 
    “You are a splendid liar, my dear,” said Khosrau. “A fine quality in a servant. But, you must attend to your mistress, and I have no wish to cause her distress.” He snapped his fingers, and the male slave handed Caina a scroll of thick white paper. 
    “A message for my mistress?” said Caina.
    “A bright girl,” said Khosrau, in the same tone he might use to compliment a dog or a horse. 
    Still, Caina found it hard to dislike the jovial old lord. He was certainly more pleasant than his humorless son. And it seemed hard to believe that Khosrau could plot the murder of a man sitting next to him.
    Hard to believe…but not impossible. 
    “Yes,” said Ranarius. He had a quiet, precise voice, and Caina felt his cold gaze turn to her. “The commoners can do all sorts of tricks once they’ve been properly trained.” 
    “It is the invitation to a little gathering,” said Khosrau. “Deliver it to your mistress, and tell her that Lord Khosrau Asurius would be most pleased if she could sing for it.”
    Caina bowed. “My mistress would be most honored.” And pleased, as well. It would provide an opportunity to spy within the Palace of Splendors. 
    “She had better be,” said Armizid. “It is unseemly for an opera singer to attend a gathering of nobles, but…”
    “Unseemly!” said Khosrau. “That is your favorite word, my boy. Unseemly. Well,” he waved his hand, “off you go, girl. It would please me greatly if your mistress performed at the feast.”
    Caina bowed and left the box. Khosrau’s attention returned to the opera, as did Corbould’s, but she felt Armizid and Ranarius staring at her as she left. 
    She hurried back to the tents. Marcellus had taken the stage as Tertius Maraeus,