Ghost Claws Read Online Free

knives sprouted from the second man’s thigh. He stumbled with a scream, slashing at the air with a peculiar forked mace, and Corvalis killed him with a quick thrust.
    I let out a long breath. I hadn’t even gotten my sword out of my scabbard. I’m getting old…but there are advantages to surrounding oneself with capable fighters. 
    “I know these men,” said Caina, poking at one of the corpses with her boot. “These are Cardiz’s guards. I’ve seen them at his wagon a dozen times.”
    “And look at this,” said Corvalis, lifting the odd-looking mace. It was a wooden club, its end tipped with a carved head that looked like a lion’s paw. Four gleaming black claws, each three inches long, jutted from the paw.
    “Grass lion claws,” I said.
    “An odd thing,” said Corvalis.
    “It’s a trophy, a ceremonial weapon,” said Caina. “If an Anshani nobleman slays a lion, he has the skin made into a mantle and the claws fashioned into a ceremonial mace.” She pointed at the rack by Masud’s blood-soaked bed. “There’s a matching one there.”
    “A ceremonial weapon,” said Corvalis, “but a useful tool, if you wanted to make it look as if a man had been killed by a grass lion.”
    “I think,” I said, “that it is time to have a second talk with our friend Cardiz.”
     
    ###
     
    I crept around the edge of Cardiz’s wagon. I may be old, but I know how to move quietly, and my boots made not a hint of sound against the grass. I peered around the edge of the wagon, and saw Cardiz himself standing there, hands on hips as he gazed at the Anshani camp. Beads of sweat glittered on his forehead, and he kept gnawing on his lip. 
    I stepped around the edge of the wagon and cleared my throat. 
    “Good morning, master Cardiz,” I said.
    Cardiz whirled, his eyes going wide, and reached for a dagger at his belt. 
    “You!” he said. “What did…I mean, Master Basil. Good to see you again. Can I…”
    As I held his attention, Caina and Corvalis stepped around the other side of the wagon. Corvalis seized the peddler and slammed him against the wagon, while Caina drew a dagger and rested it at his throat.
    “What…what is the meaning of this?” said Cardiz. “I demand that you release me! I have powerful friends! I…”
    “Am surprised to see us, I suppose,” I said, “given that you sent your men to kill us.”
    “I…I did nothing of the sort,” said Cardiz. “I…”
    “Let me spell it out for you,” I said. “You heard that Kamahd and Masud killed a white lion, and knew you could sell the pelt for a vast profit. So you killed Masud with one of his ceremonial maces while he slept, and then lured Kamahd out and killed him, too. You figured you could blame the deaths upon the lions. But then we started asking questions, and you realized we might learn the truth. So you hinted that Masud might have killed Kamahd, and you sent your men to kill us.”
    “You…you killed them both?” said Cardiz, shocked, and then realized what he had just admitted. “This is preposterous! A wild fancy, Callenius. Are you already drunk at this hour? Your men have no right to…to manhandle me like this! Unhand me at once, or I shall call for help.”
    “And if we searched your wagon,” I said, “would we find the pelt of a white lion?”
    Cardiz sneered. “You have no right to search my wagon.” 
    “Perhaps not,” I said, “but I am friends with Lord Titus. And if I asked Lord Titus to send men to search your wagon by force, I think we would find…”
    Cardiz slammed himself against the wagon. As he did, I heard the sound of breaking glass as something in his pocket shattered.
    An instant later I saw a bright flash burst from his robe, followed by a plume of smoke. Caina and Corvalis stumbled back, coughing, and I realized that Cardiz had shattered some kind of smoke bomb. The merchant sprinted into the high grass, and Corvalis started after him, Caina leaning against the wagon and coughing…
    A