Ghostwalker by Erik Scott de Bie Read Free Book Online Page A

“Drex was swine. At least, I always thought so.” He turned abruptly on his heel and followed Bilgren.
    The half-elf woman was noticeably less nervous. Apparently, Meris hadn’t touched her, or she would have scurried away from him as well. That helped. Greyt removed a rich crimson blanket from the back of his chair and draped it around her shivering shoulders. “Have no fear, child. You are quite safe.”
    She looked up at Greyt through blurry eyes and a smile spread across her face. “Oh, good Lord Singer!” she stammered, her voice broken with sobs. “Th-those men—”
    “I know, I know,” Greyt replied. He reached down to help her up. “Have no fear, they will be dealt with. They are servants of Sir Drex. They’re a bit unhappy, eh? Don’t worry—you’re safe now.” Most of that was a lie, but Dharan Greyt had always been glib and persuasive.
    “Thank you, oh, thank you!” she said. She took his hand and kissed it several times. “I was so afraid.”
    “There is no need for you to fear, fair lady,” he said silkily, lifting her gently by the hand. His words sounded almost lyrical. “But I am afraid, maid—”
    “Tillee,” she said quickly, filling in the gap his words left.
    “Maid Tillee,” Greyt repeated. “I’m afraid you will have to help me. You see, I need to know what happened that night. The faster you tell me, the safer you will be.”
    Tillee paled, but she managed to speak. She unfolded the story as she had seen it, about the man appearing out of the shadows, the vicious fight, and the bloody outcome of the duel. She even described, in detail, the rasping of the ghostly warrior’s voice, so filled with darkness and hate. By the end of her story, she was shuddering with remembered fear.
    Greyt shook his head. Such a feat as she described would take a powerful wizard, and he knew without a doubt that no wizards had been active in Quaervarr that night. Neither had he heard of a wizard who possessed such blade skill.
    Greyt walked to Meris. “What do you think?” he asked softly. No affectionate name. No “son.” Not even “boy.”
    Meris shrugged. “Maybe she really is an innocent victim of circumstance.”
    “Or a whore trying to save her neck,” Greyt said. “Who else is there? Jarthon hasn’t sent any killers into Quaervarr in a long while, and this kind of murder isn’t like him anyway.”
    “The killing wounds are too precise for a woman suffering Drex’s attentions,” Meris said. “The attacks must have come from a trained hand, perhaps someone like the assassin she describes. And there’s something else besides—”
    “You said you were convinced it was her,” Greyt argued. “Bilgren certainly thought so.”
    “That was in front of the men,” Meris replied. “And Bilgren’s skills don’t exactly run to thinking. It wouldn’t do to share my real suspicions in the hearing of possibly disloyal ears, and all the remaining ears in this mansion are yours.” He gestured toward the tapestry behind Greyt, where both knew of a secret passage perfect for just such spying.
    With a disarming smile, Greyt nodded. How little Meris knew about his “ears.”
    “I think she speaks the truth,” said Meris.
    Greyt raised an eyebrow. “Go on,” he invited.
    “Two of Drex’s guards mentioned a man in black,” Meris said. “Who swept out of the shadows and attacked them at their posts. They killed him on instinct, but decided afterward that he had been just a drunk. We examined the alley where they swore they had dumped the body, but there was nothing there. An assassin, perhaps?”
    “A man in black.” Greyt stopped. A flash of memory came to him, but he pushed it aside. “Ludicrous. If those guards killed a man, his body would still be there. And there are no assassins in Quaervarr. Whose death is worth the expense?” He shrugged dismissively. “Pay it no mind.”
    “They said he was a demon,” Meris said. His voice was calm but his tone was intent.
    “I said