Read Ghost in the Blood (The Ghosts) for Free Online Page A

strode towards them, expression bored. He wore the segmented steel armor of the Legion, a broadsword at his belt, and a shield slung over his shoulder. His eyes flicked over Halfdan, lingered for a while on Caina, and returned to Halfdan.
    “Your name and business?” said the legionary in Caerish.
    “Basil Callenius, of Malarae,” said Halfdan, speaking his own Caerish with a Nighmarian accent. “A merchant of jewels and other luxuries.” He lifted a leather folder. “I have all the proper papers and licensures, I assure you, and I am a member in good standing of the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers.” A silver coin glimmered in his hand. “I do hope I can go about my business in peace.”
    The legionary gave the papers a cursory glance and took the coin. “Aye, Master Basil, you’re free to go.”
    “Though I hope I might ask a question of you, soldier,” said Halfdan. “Do you know a man named Ducas?”
    “Aye,” said the legionary, “he’s a tribune of the Twentieth, my Legion. His cohort has command of the south lighthouse.”
    Halfdan pulled a sealed scroll from inside his robe. “Might you send this message, worthy sir?” Another silver coin glimmered in his hand. “It would be worth your while, I think.” 
    “As you will.” The legionary took both scroll and coin. “I’ll send it with the next rider. Now go. The centurion will have my hide if he sees you blocking the gate.”
    Halfdan tipped his cap and cracked the reins. The wagon rattled through the gates and into a broad plaza paved with flagstones. Merchant stalls stood everywhere, vendors hawking food and drink to travelers entering the city. 
    “Wretched dog, taking bribes,” muttered Ark, glaring at the gate. “Were I his centurion I would whip him until he cried like a child.”
    “Bribes make the world go round,” said Halfdan. 
    “Why are legionaries manning the gate?” said Caina. “Isn’t that usually the task of auxiliaries, or local militia?”
    “Usually,” said Halfdan, “but not here. Two Legions are kept in Marsis at all times, in case the Kyracians attempt to sail in and seize the city. It’s only been six years or so since their last raid.” 
    “This Ducas fellow,” said Caina. “A business associate of yours, Father?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Halfdan, “we’ve done business many a time. Now, hush, daughter. Speak no more of business until we’re alone.”
    Caina nodded, thinking it over. A military tribune who was also a Ghost? It seemed odd, though it made sense that the Emperor would want spies in his own armies. 
    She took in the city as Halfdan drove. People crowded the streets, Nighmarian lords, Caerish merchants, Szaldic craftsmen, Kyracian traders, Anshani merchants, priests of various gods, all of them haggling, gossiping, bickering, preaching, and arguing. Caina spoke a dozen languages with varying degrees of proficiency, and she heard all twelve in the streets, along with a few she did not recognize. She saw the pickpockets working their way through the crowds, and noted with amusement how they moved on to different marks after taking one look at Ark.
    Hardly any beggars, though. That surprised her. She had seen one or two at the gate, and none since. Was Marsis prosperous enough to have no beggars? 
    It seemed hard to believe that this thriving city could host a gang of sorcery-empowered slavers. 
    She glanced up at the mansions surrounding the Citadel, and wondered how many of them held dark secrets. Her eyes wandered past the mansions, to the Citadel itself. And the great black tower rising from its center.
    “Draws the eye, doesn’t it?” said Ark. 
    “Who built it?” said Caina. 
    “No one knows,” said Ark. “Some people say the gods built it, or the Strigosti, or a mighty sorcerer raised it in a single day with a single spell.”
    “What do you think?” said Caina. 
    Ark shrugged. “I don’t know. An ancient people reared it, most likely. The Szalds call it the Black