Free Ghost Claws by Jonathan Moeller Page A

blades hidden in her boots and sleeves.
    “Father,” said Caina with a smile. It made her look young and lovely and happy. Unlike most of her smiles, it touched her eyes. She smiled more than she used to.
    The reason for that sat next to her, drinking from a wooden cup.
    “Master Basil,” said Corvalis Aberon. He was a big, lean man with close-cropped blond hair and eyes like chips of cold jade. Corvalis masqueraded as one of my caravan guards. I suppose it added verisimilitude to our disguises to have one of Master Basil’s guards sneaking into his daughter’s tent every night. 
    “Cormark,” I said, as he passed me a piece of cheese. “Where is your sister?”
    “Tent,” said Corvalis. “Headache. She’ll probably ride in the wagon today.” 
    I nodded and thought it over.
    If I was going to kill Corvalis, I should do it today. 
    He had made a serious error in Catekharon, and it had almost gotten all of us killed. Anyone can make a mistake. But he had sided with his sister over the Ghosts…and that I found harder to forgive. 
    Much harder.
    But it had been an honest error, if a stupid one. And Caina loved him. Killing him would devastate her. 
    If I did kill him, I would have to make it look like an accident. I owed her that much. I owed her much more than that. 
    “Out of curiosity,” said Corvalis, “how did you join the Ghosts?” 
    The question was so unexpected that I took a moment to consider my answer.
    My first impulse was to rebuke him. We were traveling with the embassy of Lord Titus Iconias. The embassy of the khadjar Arsakan, the Shahenshah’s ambassador to Catekharon, was also traveling with us. But both camps, and their attendant merchants and followers, were out of earshot.
    “Why,” I said, “do you want to know?”
    Corvalis shrugged. “You…collect damaged people, Master Basil, and turn them into weapons. Caina told me what happened to her, at least some of it. And I know how you recruited me.” He took a bite of cheese. “I was curious if the same thing happened to you.”
    Caina blinked. “How did you join the Ghosts? You’ve never told me.”
    I hadn’t. Only one other living man knew what had happened.
    “Well,” I said. “I was once in the Legion. The Ninth Legion, to be precise. My centurion started kidnapping Ulkaari villagers and selling them to Alqaarin slavers. He was caught, and tried to frame me for it. So I killed him, and the Legion’s legate sentenced me to die for killing my centurion. But the Ghosts rescued me.”
    “A grim story,” said Corvalis.
    “Yes,” said Caina with a laugh, “and one that is completely false.”
    “Oh?” I said, smiling back. “Tell me where I am wrong.” 
    We played this game from time to time. Caina is so keenly observant that sometimes people assume she is a sorceress, but she is simply clever. She knows how to use her eyes and ears.
    “You said you were a veteran of the Legions,” said Caina, “but the Legions tattoo every soldier upon the right arm with the number of his Legion. I have seen no such tattoo upon your arm, nor a scar to indicate its removal. Also, I’ve seen you fight. You don’t fight like a Legion veteran. You fight like a caravan guard.”
    “Did you hear that?” I said to Corvalis. “She is calling me feeble.”
    “There are more dangerous weapons,” said Caina, “then just swords.”
    “Aye,” I said. “At…”
    A shout rang out from the Anshani camp. Both Corvalis and Caina looked in that direction, hands straying to their weapons. 
    “What is it?” I said.
    “I think,” said Caina with a frown, “that someone has been killed.” 
    That was a concern. Lord Titus and the khadjar Arsakan were cordial, but they were hardly friendly. If one of Lord Titus’s Imperial Guards had killed one of Arsakan’s men in a quarrel, things would become ugly. On the other hand, perhaps one of Arsakan’s men had simply died in his sleep. 
    “Let us take a look,” I said, getting to my