Read The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 for Free Online

own life to do the same to others.
    “My name is Yvka.”
    “Ghaji.”
    “I was quite impressed with how you handled yourself tonight.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You started your evening here with people insulting you and wishing to fight you. After a relatively short time you’ve become, if not their friend, at least someone they respect enough to no longer taunt.”
    Ghaji smiled. “I guess it’s just my sunny personality.”
    “I would say it was due to your keen observation of human behavior and motivation,” Yvka said.
    Ghaji shrugged at the compliment, though inwardly it pleased him. “Being half human does give one a certain insight, so for that matter does being half orc, but I can’t take full credit. I have a friend who’s far more observant than I. I guess some of his qualities have rubbed off on me during our time together.”
    “The man in black?” Yvka said.
    Ghaji nodded. “Diran Bastiaan is his name, and a finer man I’ve never met, though if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it. Neither of us is big on sentiment.”
    “Your secret is safe with me. I saw both of you earlier in the day, though I doubt you noticed me. In the merchant quarter, near the warehouses?”
    “I don’t remember seeing you.”
    “I wasn’t performing at the time, just going from one tavern to another, hoping to line up some more work for the next several days. Port Verge gets its fair share of visitors, but it’s still a small enough town that outsiders get noticed, especially when they’re as … intriguing as you and your friend.”
    Ghaji couldn’t help but feel flattered, though he knew if the elf-woman felt any romantic attraction to either of them, it was most likely Diran.
    The elf-woman simply seemed curious. Still, Ghaji’s instincts urged him to lie, and he hadn’t survived the battlefields of the Last War, let alone his battles alongside Diran since, by ignoring his instincts. “Diran’s a scholar from Morgrave University. He travels throughout Khorvaire, gathering tales and legends from each region. He hopes to eventually collect them all in a book, perhaps even a series of volumes.” The lie came easily, for it was a cover story that Diran and Ghaji used whenever their activities called for a certain amount of anonymity.
    Yvka’s smile might or might not have held a trace of slyness, as if she recognized the fabrication for what it was. “I see. And you?”
    “I protect him. He is, as I said, a scholar and not a warrior.”
    “Strange. He certainly seemed to have the mien of a warrior to me.”
    “Can’t always judge by appearances.”
    Ykva nodded. “Indeed not.”
    At that moment, as if Diran had somehow known what Ghaji had said and had decided to prove his friend a liar, the tavern door burst open and the priest rushed in, followed by Makala.
    “Arm yourselves!” Diran shouted. “The city is under attack!”
    The taverngoers fell silent upon hearing Diran’s dire pronouncement. Some of the customers looked to the priest while some looked to each other, all of them trying to determine if the man garbed in black was playing some sort of distasteful joke.
    Ghaji turned back to Yvka and shrugged. He then jumped out of his chair and hurried to Diran’s side, drawing his axe as he ran. Makala rushed past him, hurrying to their table to retrieve her crossbow and bolts.
    “How bad is it?” Ghaji asked.
    “Three elemental galleons, with at least twenty hands apiece … say sixty raiders in all. They’ve likely already made landfall.” Diran turned from Ghaji to address the whole tavern. “Arm yourselves or flee! And someone tell the City Watch!”
    Everyone sat in stunned silence for a moment longer, until Ghaji roared, “Move, damn you!”
    They moved. Chairs and tables were overturned as men and women began running in panic for the tavern door. Ghaji stepped between Diran and the onrushing crowd, feet planted wide, axe held at the ready, lower incisors bared. The fleeing