Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 09 - Ghost in the Surge by Jonathan Moeller Read Free Book Online Page A

flung his trident. 
    But Caina moved in a blur, her sword and serrated dagger crossing as they deflected the trident. The weapon fell to the floor with a clang, and Caina jumped over one of the trenches, her skirts billowing around her.
    She came at Ark in a storm of razor-edged steel.
    He had not been in a serious fight for two years, not since the Kyracians and the Istarish had been defeated in Marsis. But he had not let himself grow lax. He might have become the Champion of Marsis and a man of standing, but he was still a Ghost, and the enemies of the Emperor might come for him at any moment. He trained with the sword several times a week, every day when he could manage the time, sparring with the veterans among his workers.
    The training was the only thing that saved his life. 
    Caina stabbed with the sword in her right hand, slashing at his throat with the serrated dagger. Ark saw the thrust coming, sidestepped, and got his sword up in time to deflect the slash. Steel rang on steel, and Ark swung for Caina’s chest. She jumped back, somehow maintaining her balance in those heeled boots, her eyes alive with a gleeful lust for blood. 
    Muravin bellowed and brought his scimitar down with both hands, aiming for her head. Caina whirled and caught the blow in a cross-parry, dagger and sword raised. Muravin stood a foot taller and outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, yet Caina held the parry with ease, that insane grin still upon her face. Her boot caught Muravin in the left knee, and the Istarish man stumbled back with a grunt. Caina lunged after him with the speed of a serpent, blades reaching for his neck. 
    Ark lunged, stabbing for Caina, and she danced to the side, abandoning her attack on Muravin. The former gladiator recovered his balance and snatched up his trident, and Ark and Muravin advanced on Caina. She backed away, weapons held out before her, the crazed grin never wavering. 
    “Is that all?” she said. “The great Champion of Marsis and a pit slave from Istarinmul, and that is all you can do?” She cackled. “I am one woman with a sword. Surely you can defeat me!” 
    “I don’t know what you are,” said Ark, “but you are no more Caina Amalas than I am.”
    Caina cackled again, spittle flying from her lips. “Such a bold tongue you have, sir. Perhaps I shall cut it from your jaws and keep it as a trophy!”
    She jumped over another trench and came at them. 
    Ark and Muravin battled against her. Steel rang on steel, both Ark’s hands locked around the hilt of the storm-forged Kyracian sword. He desperately wished he had a shield with him. He had trained to fight with a broadsword and shield since he had been sixteen, fighting in formation with the other men of the Legion. The Legionaries flung volleys of javelins, and then advanced in good order to overwhelm their foes with discipline and order. 
    All Ark had was a Kyracian sword. 
    Yet he held his own. He had been in more fights than he could remember, both battles against the barbarian nations of the north and desperate fights in back alleys during his time with the Ghosts. Caina fought with the skill and grace of a master swordsman, but he and Muravin matched her.
    And that only hardened his certainty that the woman before him was not Caina. He had seen Caina fight and knew the limits of her strength and speed. The woman with the sword and serrated dagger, whoever she was, moved faster and struck harder than Caina ever could. 
    They broke apart again. Ark and Muravin were both breathing hard, sweat dripping down their faces. Caina was also breathing hard, but she was not sweating. Not a hair had fallen out of place in her elaborate hairstyle, and her makeup had not even been smudged.
    Was her appearance an illusion? That would explain how she could fight in heeled boots and a long skirt without losing her balance.
    “You are better than I expected,” said Caina. She glanced at the corpses. “These others, they all died like