Read Online Ghost in the Blood (The Ghosts) by Jonathan Moeller - Free Book Online

wife.” 
    “No reason the equation should balance a second time,” muttered Radast.
    Ducas’s eyes narrowed. “What? What was that?”
    “Enough of this!” said Jiri. “Stop bickering like children. We have work to do.” Both men subsided. 
    Interesting. 
    “You are of course correct,” said Halfdan. “Business first. A few days past we almost captured Lord Naelon Icaraeus at the White Road Inn, but he escaped. We think he came to Marsis.”
    “Naelon Icaraeus?” said Ducas. “Gods of the Empire, how I want to have that bastard’s head on a platter.” 
    “We found his ledgers,” said Halfdan. “Some of his slaves go to Istarinmul and Anshan and New Kyre. But most of his profit comes from slaves he’s selling in Marsis for enormous sums of money. Which means he’s getting them into the city somehow.” 
    “I know that,” said Ducas, irritated. “We’ve been looking. The Legion inspects every wagon that comes into the city, every ship that pulls into a dock. Nothing. Not a trace of the slaves.”
    “Soldiers can be bribed,” said Halfdan. “I used a silver piece to get past the gate without trouble. Legionary pay isn’t all that high. It wouldn’t take much money to overlook a hold full of slaves. And there are other ways. Hidden compartments. False barrels. All the old smuggler tricks.” 
    “And soldiers are often blind fools,” said Jiri, earning a scowl from Ducas. “I have many informants among the dockworkers and the porters, those who actually unload the ships. None of them have seen anything suspicious. And…have you ever smelled a slave ship, Basil?”
    Halfdan nodded.
    “All those slaves chained in the hold, stewing in their own shit and sweat and terror,” said Jiri. “There is no other stink like it, thank the gods. None of the ships have that smell.”  
    “So,” said Halfdan, “that means Icaraeus is careful. Smuggling slaves in small numbers, not packed head-to-toe like in an Istarish slave ship. Maybe no more than five or six to a ship. That can hide from the inspectors.” Ducas started to protest, and Halfdan cut him off. “Do your men go over every inch of the ship, from bow to stern? Or do they just glance around the hold?”
    Ducas grunted. 
    “There could be another way,” said Caina.
    Jiri lifted her eyebrows, and Ducas gave her a sullen glare. Radast seemed oblivious to the conversation.
    “Icaraeus has access to some level of sorcery,” said Caina. “There were always rumors that he had a sorcerer working for him, but now I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
    “Oh, you have, have you?” said Ducas. “And what do you know of sorcery?”
    “I’ve killed magi before,” said Caina, voice quiet.
    “She has,” said Ark. “I’ve seen her do it.”
    Ducas frowned and said nothing. Jiri blinked a few times and took a harder look at Caina. 
    “Arlann,” said Caina. “Show him the knife.”
    Ark produced the knife she had flung at Icaraeus, its blade twisted and splintered. 
    “I tried to kill Icaraeus. I would have killed Icaraeus,” said Caina, “but he had some sort of enspelled bauble, probably his bracers, that deflected the blow.”
    “A broken knife,” said Ducas. “That proves nothing.”
    Radast came closer, staring at the blade with fascination. “The angles are all wrong. Metal doesn’t break that way. Not naturally.” 
    “I have relied upon my daughter’s observations in the past,” said Halfdan. “If she says Icaraeus had some sort of sorcery, then he does. Which might explain how Icaraeus is getting his slaves into Marsis.” 
    “So he has a sorcerer working for him,” said Jiri. “Or he is working for a sorcerer.”
    “The Imperial Magisterium,” said Caina. “They have no regard for the laws of men or gods, and view all other men as either slaves or raw materials for their arcane experiments.”
    Jiri and Ducas shared a look. 
    “That…is unlikely,” said Jiri.
    “Why not?” said Caina.
    “Because,”