Constantinople: Demon-Haunted

[aithne]

I have got to find a better name for this series. Perhaps I'll think of something over the weekend...



After sunrise the next morning, Livia rose though she had slept but little. She almost went to check on Optata, then checked herself with a wrench of her heart. She had almost forgotten that she was alone, now.

The mages came to her after they had finished their investigations, three of them splendid in their red robes. "What did you find?" asked Livia.

The oldest one, a clean-shaven man with white liberally salting his black hair, spoke. "Many things, though we cannot draw conclusions from them. First, someone broke the seal on your chamber, presumably during the funeral. Beneath the bed we found a sigil that was half-erased, of a kind used to summon a demon called a gulagon. We also found this." He extended his hand, and in a cloth in his palm lay an object that Livia at first had trouble identifying. she finally blinked and with queasiness recognized it as a fingernail--not a clipping, but a whole fingernail torn from a hand. "It is small enough to be an older child, or a woman," said the mage. "And it appears that whoever was trying to erase the symbol was interrupted in the middle. We found nothing else."

Livia took a deep breath. "Is it safe to have the room cleansed?"

"It should be." The mage handed her the cloth that was now folded around the fingernail. "We are sorry for your loss, lady. There is one more thing that may be of interest to you."

"Yes?"

"One of our number, a young man named Fuscus, disappeared the night Pavo died. We suspect foul play, as his room was destroyed, but not even his neighbors heard a thing. A priest identified the spell--a Flamestrike. But no body was found, and none had entered or left the room. We are still investigating. It may have nothing to do with this."

"I understand. Tell me, what can you tell me about gulagon demons?"

The mage shook his head. "I have not made a study of them. The Tower at Hagia Sophia can send you someone more versed in demon lore than we are."

"Please have them do so." There was some more polite conversation, and the mages filed out. Rusticus, the captain of the house guard, stopped in the doorway, bowing.

"Livia. I have been told that a pair of the guards who were on duty that night--" his tone left no doubt as to which night he meant-- "saw a young Sassanid girl, perhaps sixteen or so, staring up at your window. They chased her off."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Did they recognize her? Do we know who she is?"

"A street child." Rusticus' shrug was eloquent. The guard captain was a laconic fellow, who would never use ten words when one would do. "Want us to grab her if she comes by again?"

"Gently, citizen, gently. Tell her that the lady of the house would make it worth her while to speak with her for a time. I can't imagine she has anything to do with this--the Sassanids believe that demons are unclean, I recall--but perhaps she saw something."

"It will be done, lady."

"There will be a mage from Hagia Sophia coming later. Show him in when he arrives."

Rusticus nodded and withdrew, leaving Livia to her thoughts. She felt torn and empty, unable to think of anything to do, her usually active mind stunned by the enormity of what she had lost. One of her maids coaxed her to eat a little, which she had not done since the night Sextus had died. There were things to do--she should go through her husband's papers, acquaint herself with the property she now owned--but for the moment, all she could do was bide in stillness.

Midafternoon, a knock came upon the room's door. Rusticus entered, and announced, "The mage Darius, of Hagia Sophia." He stepped aside, and the man behind him entered the room.

For a moment, the sight of the mage made no sense, then his form resolved itself. He was a big man, tall and heavily muscled, with black hair pulled away from his face as warriors did. His nose looked like it had been hit with a shovel a few times, the once-patrician appendage abused and lumpy. He wore not robes but a soldier's tunic, much like the one Rusticus wore.

In short, he did not look anything like a mage. But that was a mage's medallion around his neck, the official markings of the Hagia Sophia on it, and he raised his hand, the sparkling illusion of a flower appearing within it. As he cupped the gathering of light, the flower opened, spreading its petals to the sun. He closed his hand and the illusion disappeared. "My name is Darius, lady. And yes, I am a mage."

Ordinarily, Livia would have the presence of mind to come back with a clever rejoinder, but she could think of nothing to say in return. She settled for, "I am Livia. Come, sit. Can I offer you refreshments?"

Rusticus passed by her chair, and bent to murmur into her ear, "We relieved him of a sword when he came inside. A most unusual man, this one. I will be outside the door."

Livia nodded and let him go. Darius was sitting, looking at her with intent eyes. She took a breath and asked, "Darius, what do you know of a kind a demon called gulagon?" The words came out far more shaky than she wanted them to.

Was that just the slightest flinch she saw? "They are very hard to summon, lady. May I ask what you saw, and why you think it was a gulagon?"

She described for him the thing she'd seen and how it acted, and then told him about the half-erased symbol that had been drawn beneath their bed. "The mages said that it was for summoning a gulagon. I've never heard of such a thing before."

"They are assassin demons. They are very effective, but they only come on very specific missions."

Livia frowned. "Like what?"

"Specifically, they are summoned to take vengeance on a person or family. They are known in the mage world as the vengeance assassins. It is the only reason they will appear on this world at all." He might have been discussing the weather for all of the emotion he showed, and Livia found herself grateful for his calm. The world was beginning to sparkle around the edges a little.

"Vengeance specifically for the summoner?" she asked quietly.

He spread his hands. "If the need for revenge is strong enough, the demon will come for a person that paid a mage to summon a demon. It is very rare though, lady."

She sat in silence, frowning. She'd had no idea that Sextus had such enemies...surely he would have told her if he did? There had to be another explanation. "Are there any demons that can mimic gulagons?"

"There are some that can shapechange to look like those demons. But those are rarer still."

Thinking hard, she went through in her mind everything she knew about the little-practiced art of demon-summoning. She quickly sifted through her knowledge and then discarded it all as useless, rumor and half-truth. She asked, "And if a gulagon is summoned but the motive is not strong enough...it simply refuses to come?"

"It usually slays the caster for the offense and leaves." He took a breath. "Lady, here are but ten mages in all of Constantinople that could pull off such a spell. It is not an easy task and not one that anyone relishes doing."

"Is there another explanation for what I saw, then? As far as I know, my husband had no enemies with a powerful enough grievance against him for a gulagon. I have some more investigation into that to do, obviously."

Darius shook his head. "No. The more obvious trouble is who had access to your bedroom, besides your husband and yourself. That symbol had to have been placed before you went to bed that night."

"We have servants, and guards, of course. They have all been questioned closely, though not interrogated with magic obviously. If any of them had a mind to do something like that, they could arrange it. Otherwise, a stranger within the house would not go unremarked, unless they could creep in invisibly. Whoever it was may have come back afterwards, and been interrupted, leaving the symbol half-erased." She paused and remembered the other strange thing that had been found. "A fingernail was left behind, but whether it was that of one who was erasing it, or whoever stopped them, I do not know."

"A gulagon demon is very precise. To avoid unnecessary killings, it tracks a piece of the person it is seeking. Barring getting a piece of something from the target, a symbol is painted at a place that the demon will go to to find them. Then a close relative's flesh is used to identify the line and the person is killed." Still his voice was calm, as calm as one of the many tutors she had studied with in her youth. Livia swallowed and forced herself into a student's mindset, distancing the information from herself.

"So the fingernail belongs to someone related to my husband by blood? He has two sisters still living, his father, and our daughter. I saw them all yesterday. None were missing a fingernail."

"Yes, lady, that is correct." He was watching her intently, and she resisted the urge to squirm. "It must be a first-degree relative--sibling, parent, child. None else will do."

She raised her previously untouched glass of wine to her lips. She worried at that thought. She had seen every single one of those related that closely to her husband yesterday, and none of them had even had a wound on their hands. Who, then?

Another child? She would swear that he had been faithful to her, quite enthusiastically so, during their marriage. But he had been twenty-three when they had married, and young men would be young men. Sometimes their adventures had consequences. But if he'd known...wouldn't he have told her? Surely, he would have. Surely. She clenched her free hand on itself, her nails digging into her palm. A strange dread was simmering in her chest, beneath the grief.

Realizing that Darius was waiting for her to say something, she commented, "There are pagan magics, I believe, that can track a person given a piece of them." He did not flinch at her mention of pagan magic, and she continued. He was a mage, perhaps he had a more open mind than most of her peers. "If it was a gulagon, then someone out there had a very good reason to want Sextus dead. I need to find out what it was. You said it was a difficult thing, to summon one. Do you know who the ten are who can accomplish it?"

A slight smile touched his lips. "Yes, lady, they lead the Tower as the council of ten. Though it is possible that a cleric of pagan god could have conjured such a demon as well."

"I'm not certain there are all that many strong clerics of the pagan gods left, these days. It's worth investigating. I think, though, that I need to find out who Sextus offended so badly." She felt detached from herself, floating slightly beyond the confines of her body. "Is there a way, with magic, of viewing past times? If I can see who entered and exited our room that day..."

"It is, again, a pagan magic. A specialty of Athena, I believe." Again, his tone was entirely neutral. She could not decide if the indifference was real or feigned. If it was real, or if he had leanings towards the pagan gods...her heart skipped a beat. It was a dangerous thought for her to have. She was very high indeed in society now. If there was a whisper that she or anyone who served her worshiped the old gods, she would be in grave danger.

But it had been since she was a child since she had been able to be open about her faith, when her father had told her to always love the old gods but to serve the new one. She could not even think of asking Darius about it. "I will have to see what I can arrange. This could be difficult...but I'll manage." She sat straighter. "Thank you for answering my questions, Darius. It's been most helpful. Oh, before you go--I heard that a mage died in mysterious circumstances a few days ago. Has anyone found anything more about it?"

Darius raised an eyebrow. "Go, lady? Constantius has ordered the mage tower to protect you in case of another attack. I have been assigned to you as your bodyguard."

Livia blinked. Suddenly the man's most un-mage-like appearance and lack of robes made sense. "Oh. All right, then." She resolved to send a message to Constantius to make sure that this was who he intended to send.

"As ever, lady. But to answer your question, the mage that died was very young with potential but no real skill. His room was destroyed but no body was found. The magic that destroyed the room looks like pagan magic but clearly it was not. It was mage in origin. The boy, though, had a great deal of conjuring powder including the same dyes that inscribed the symbol on your floor."

Livia considered this. "Messing with magic beyond his ability to control, then. interesting. How rare are the dyes used to inscribe the symbol?"

There was the ghost of a smile on Darius' lips. "Rare enough to be tracked, lady, yes they are."

"Good. Who would I speak to about tracking them down to the source, finding out who else is buying the same dyes?" She marveled at her brisk tone, still feeling detached from her body. "I mean, I'm assuming that the boy couldn't be the culprit. At least, if he was involved....ah. perhaps he was the one who created the symbol."

"Several of the markets carry the dyes, but putting them together is problematic for one so young. There are but two locations that could have sold it already intact. The mage tower has a supply but doesn't sell it to anyone of his level. The other is an old mage, who is somewhat of an outlaw but was deemed harmless enough to live under the eye of the tower."

It was Livia's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I think I'd like to speak with this old mage, then. in what way is he an outlaw?"

That was definitely a smile. "He is Sassenid. It is enough. Suffice it to say that because of his race and beliefs, he sells things he shouldn't to some interesting individuals in order to survive."

Sassenids again. Interesting. "Ah. Have you ever had any dealings with this old man?"

"Once or twice, I have."

"And do you find him a trustworthy sort?"

He shook his head. "Not even remotely."

Livia pursed her lips. "So he's likely to lie if asked outright. That's useful to know."

"Bring a lot of gold lady, that loosens his teeth."

She shorted gently. "It would. That I can do. Everything seems to come down to bribery, sooner or later."

"A great deal can be had with gold. But the real things in life you can't buy."

Livia blinked away tears, her feeling of detachment abruptly dissolving. She looked away from Darius, willing the tears to stay where they were. The silence extended between them as she struggled to master herself, then swallowed the tears and wiped her eyes. "No. No, you certainly cannot." She took a long breath. "Well, sir, come with me and I'll introduce you to the guards and have them return your weapon."

Darius nodded. "If you would allow lady, I will set some alarms on your windows and doors to alert me to intruders."

"Of course. You have as much leeway as you need to do your job. If you need anything, let me know and it will be procured." She inclined her head at the mage.

"No, lady, I have everything I need currently, except some quarters that are preferably close to yours."

"I am sleeping in one of the guest rooms, the room next door is empty. I'll have your things carried in there. The bedroom I used to use..." She shook her head. "I do not think I could sleep there."

His tone was almost sympathetic as he replied, "I understand, lady. In the morning, we will see if we can track down Zamed."

She handed the mage off to the guard with a set of instructions, and then tried to settle back down in her chair. But she was restless, and she kept getting up and pacing, stopping at the windows to look outside. The sun was beginning to go down, and the house suddenly felt like a prison. She would not be able to leave without sneaking out for eight more days.

Eight days when she was not going to be expected to be anywhere, to take up any new duties. Eight days of relative freedom. Eight days to mourn someone she had loved, to learn how to deal with the loneliness that she had not felt for years. Eight days to learn how to sleep alone again before she would have to dry her eyes and go on display before the world once more, to be the politician she had been raised to be.

She swallowed, her mouth gone dry. She badly wanted to see Optata, to hold her child in her arms, but her first visit to her daughter would have to wait until the morning period was done.

The tears she had not shed before fell now as she looked out over the hills of the city, to the west where the sun was lengthening the shadows of the city into velvet darkness.

*****

There was a sound outside Livia's door.

She had been dozing, curled up on her side, floating in the sea between waking and dreaming, in a quietly forgetful place that she had fashioned for herself in her mind. When she slept, she dreamed of Optata's screams and the smell of death. When she was awake, the pain drove her to distraction. But this place was good. It was a refuge.

But it was shattered by the sound--what was it? She was jolted entirely awake, and before she thought about it she had rolled out of bed to land quietly on the floor, hand reaching for the dagger she kept within reach beside it. There was another sound, as of something heavy being dragged. It paused outside her door and moved on.

Escape or confrontation? She glanced over at the window; she was on the second floor, and she wasn't sure she wanted to jump from it in her night-tunic unless she really had to. The alarms Darius had set suddenly went off, screeching filling her ears. Making her decision, she ran to the door, pulling it open.

A nightmare stood on the other side.

It was a gulagon. The same one as she'd seen a few nights ago, she'd swear it. The thing's scaled skin was black as night, its knees jointed wrong, its long muzzle filled with sharp teeth, the claws on the ends of its fingers sharp as scythes. For a long moment, the demon simply looked at her with eyes that burned with a green light. Livia felt as if her whole body were encased in ice.

But the demon made no move to attack. Instead, it opened its muzzle. "Pretty," it hissed.

The word shocked Livia out of her terror. She demanded, "What are you doing back here? Wasn't one of us enough?" Her voice rose, panic creeping into it.

It cocked its head at her. "Young pretty. Whole line must go. All must go." It paused, then hissed, "Except you. Only you."

She raised her dagger, her hand nerveless. "Who--who sent you? Why except me?" From down the corridor, arrows one after another hit the gulagon with muffled thuds, one in its shoulder, two in its sides. It did not react except to shudder its skin. She could hear footsteps approaching at a run. She could not turn her eyes away from the gulagon's to look.

"Never you." It picked up one foot and turned its head. Another arrow hit it, this time in the hip.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice panicked. "You killed my husband. What did he do to justify his death?"

The gulagon stopped, swing that heavy head back towards her, hung its mouth open once more. "Leave her in pain, they say." And then more quickly than anything should be able to move, it crouched down and launched itself, leaping out the window, arrows trailing in its wake.

The dragger dropped from Livia's hand. She clutched the doorframe, thoughts scattered and broken. Cannot--panic, must not have hysterics, oh sweet merciful gods the thing came back--

There was a light touch on her shoulder. She lifted her head to see Darius, his still-strung bow carried in his left hand. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine." She pushed herself away from the doorframe, swallowing. "I'll be fine. Just give me a moment."

"Come with me while you recover," he said. "The gulagon was here for some purpose, and I think I know." He nearly dragged her down the corridor, and after a moment, she realized he was heading towards the family quarters.

"It was the same one, I'd swear to it. Why did it return? Unless it didn't know Optata's not here..."

"It would have no reason to know that Optata has been moved." They reached the small room that her daughter had usually slept in, and pulled open the door. The room was destroyed. All of the cloth in it was shredded beyond recognition, the furniture splintered and broken. In the place where the bed had stood was a mark inscribed in dark dry. Darius pointed. "The symbol." He knelt and touched it, then rubbed his fingers together. "Older. Probably done at the same time that the one in your room was."

Livia's head swam. She willed herself to stay here, stay with this, stay calm. In the corridor, she could hear running feet as the household stirred, woken by Darius' alarm. "I have to send Constantius a message. Optata is in danger. As are the rest of the Nerius family--his sisters and father live nearby." She paused, and her mind seemed to come unstuck from the place of gibbering horror that seeing the gulagon again had sent her into. "We need to search the house for any more marks."

Darius nodded. "Come with me, lady. I have work to do." Outside Optata's room, he caught a guard walking past, and told him to relay to Rusticus that Livia wanted the house searched for more marks. She followed him back to the quarters she was staying in, and leaned against the wall, shaking. Darius was picking up a few small things from the floor--scales shed by the gulagon--and swabbing up the blood it had shed with a clean cloth. "What are you doing?" she asked, more to distract herself than anything else.

"Gulagons come in different species, like kinds of sheep. The scales can tell me what kind it is. And with the right spell, the blood could be used to track it."

Livia nodded. "Did you hear it speaking to me? Did it truly tell me that someone wants to kill Sextus' line...to hurt me?"

"Yes, it did." He straightened, looking over at her. "Sextus may not have been the one that wronged someone."

She'd covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes had closed. "I swear to you, I have never done anything to anyone that would deserve this. I have been a good citizen all of my life. What on earth could I have done that was so terrible as to deserve this?"

"Only you and whoever is doing this knows. You may have even thought it a small slight or nothing at all." He shrugged.

Livia clutched the wall, forcing herself to stand upright. "I have to find whoever it is and convince them to stop before that thing finds my daughter, if it hasn't already." The thought that she might already be too late, that Optata might already be lying in pieces as Sextus had, set some small part of her to screaming in panic. She could not think of it. Optata had to be alive.

Darius inclined his head. "It will have a hard time getting into Constanatius' palace. It is far better guarded than this house is."

"Good. And wherever she is sleeping should be checked nightly for the mark." She turned and went into her chamber, gathering writing supplies and beginning to pen a note.

From the corridor, Darius; voice drifted in. "By sunrise, half of Hagia Sophia will be in the palace and will be setting..." He trailed off. "Lady. Write in that note that Constantius himself may be under attack."

She straightened and turned. "I will, but...the gulagon won't attack him."

"No. But one of the mages might."

Livia frowned. "The mages? Why on earth would they attack Constantius? I thought he had a good relationship with Hagia Sophia. Well....not good. Reasonable, I suppose."

Darius was standing in the doorway now, seeming to fill it completely. "Think about it. One of Contantius' best friends is killed. What is Contantius going to do? Adopt your daughter. Then another demon attack, this time on your daughter's room. He invites all of Hagia Sophia into his home to protect her and when everyone else is busy...boom, one less regent."

The logic was clear, now that Livia was looking for it. "I'll definitely write that in the message. With that many mages around, an attack could happen and nobody would know exactly who did it, as well."

"Yes. This is starting to smell. No gulagon demon is that stupid. It should have known that she wasn't here, and it tripped my alarms--but it was deliberate, because gulagons can see magic. The other thing that was bothering me was why it let you live when you saw it. It's not typical. Now, if it was telling the truth, I can understand."

"And why wouldn't it have killed Optata when it was here the first time? I've seen it twice now. It could have killed me when it killed Sextus, had it wanted to. That was why I thought it was only after him."

The mage shook his head. "No offense with what I am about to say. It should have just killed you, the guards that got in the way and kept going on to Optata. If it were going after the whole line, it would have done it the night before last. Why summon the same demon twice? That's a lot of energy and a lot of trouble."

"No offense taken. Do gulagons ever slip their leashes? I mean, you said that they only come to this world to be the instrument of vengeance. What if it wasn't summoned again? What if it's still here from the first time? Or maybe it's not a gulagon."

"They do when the mage is killed, but they usually return after that. It would take more power to cage a gulagon overnight than to summon it in the first place, I'm not sure it's possible. "And it is a gulagon. With the blood and scales, it is almost certain."

Livia crossed her arms. "There is something exceedingly strange going on here, then. I mean, I could see it skipping me in the first place, because I'm not related to Sextus by blood. But what stopped it from going after Optata? Perhaps it was summoned again tonight, with different orders."

"Hence why I think this was a ruse for something else." Darius inclined his head. "We have stepped into something big and something powerful."

"Without doubt. I need to find the person doing the summoning, Darius."

"We can call on Zamed in a few hours. I am certain he does not rise until after sunrise."

"Sunrise?" She glanced out the window. The sky was still dark, a fact that had escaped conscious notice until just now. "Ah. I also think I may need to learn how to defend myself. I've had no weapons instruction, and I have a sudden feeling I might need at least the basics."

Darius chucked, and she saw a brief smile light on his lips. "Yes, lady, it shows. I doubt either of us will sleep again this night. It is cool now. How about some lessons?"

"Let me change..." She trailed off as she realized that she was still wearing her brief sleep tunic, one that showed nearly her whole legs. She hadn't even thought of it when she'd pulled the door open, and afterward she'd been too busy reeling in horror to think about her modesty. She turned her face away from Darius, determined to hide her sudden blush. "And I need to finish these messages. I will come to your door in a few minutes."

"Very well, lady."

About ten minutes later, she knocked on Darius' door, dressed in a knee-length tunic that was loose enough for her to move well in, her hair bound up in a knot. They went down to the courtyard that her husband and their guards often used to wrestle in. Darius tossed her a practice dagger, and began her instruction.

He was showing her an attack when he stepped close to her, snagging one of her wrists in his hand and bringing the wooden dagger around toward her side. Without thinking, she twisted away, dropping, her wrist slipping out of his hand as she hit the ground and rolled away, completing the motion by coming to her feet. Breathing hard, she stood balanced, waiting for his next move.

Darius dropped his hand and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "And where, lady, did you learn that? Surely you did not make that up just now."

Livia shook her head. "My mother taught me. We are not expected to fight, but assassins are everywhere, and if nothing else she wanted me to know how to get away. I did not even remember her teaching me until you did something that reminded me."

"Hm. Well, it'll come in handy. Let's try that again, only I want to modify how you come up."

As the sky turned a translucent pink in the east, they worked together. Livia lost herself in the learning, leaving behind her grief for an hour or two as she turned her full concentration to learning how to use a dagger. By the time the sun was fully up and the house was awake and beginning the work of the day, she was sweating and panting. Darius, on the other hand, hadn't even broken a sweat.

As she went back into the house to bathe and change, she was turning over the morning in her head, thinking. What if I have done something that terrible? she wondered. What if I did something so awful to someone and didn't even notice? How could I have done something like that and not even have known?

And if I did do something...I am responsible for Sextus' death. Desolation hit her anew, making her stop in the middle of the corridor. Only by force of will did she not double over in pain. She wanted so badly to deny the possibility, to deny that she may have been responsible for the thing that had killed her happiness and taken her child from her, but she could not discount it. Still she could hear the gulagon hissing, Leave her in pain.

"I will discover it," she murmured, tears wet on her cheek. "I will discover the truth, Sextus, and if it was me I'll do what I can to make it right, whatever it is. And then..."

And then, what? She couldn't say. But for the moment, she would be in motion. Anything would be better than being paralyzed with grief. And if she were guilty--

She would deal with it when she found it out.

Livia wiped her face and hurried back to her chamber, to dress for an excursion that, strictly speaking, she was not supposed to be embarking on...