Ghost Keeper Read Free Page B

white coat and shirt, black trousers, gleaming black boots. A belt held a short sword and a dagger of expensive make. He was in good shape, and the white coat fit him well. He looked to be in his middle thirties, with dark eyes and curly black hair. 
    “Yes?” said Agabyzus.
    The man bowed. “I am Aydin Kirshar, a merchant of Cyrioch. It is always a pleasure to find a countryman here in Istarinmul.”
    Agabyzus smiled. “Well, we Cyricans are quite common in Istarinmul. Perhaps we ought to buy the city and have done with it.” He bowed and Caina followed suit. “I am Tamirzid Kolarzu, and this is my daughter Azarma.”
    “I would enjoy talking business with you, sir,” said Aydin, “but first I have a question I must ask.” Agabyzus nodded. “Might I dance with your daughter?”
    Caina blinked several times as she considered Aydin. What did he want? He didn’t look like a Teskilati agent, and she didn’t think that he was an assassin of the Kindred, but both the Kindred and the Teskilati were adept at the arts of disguise. Perhaps he was a freelance assassin who had realized that she was the Balarigar. She didn’t feel an arcane aura around him, so he wasn’t a Silent Hunter or one of the other creatures of the Umbarian Order, but it was entirely possible he was an agent of the Umbarians nonetheless. She didn’t see any concealed weapons on him…
    “My daughter can answer that question, I think,” said Agabyzus. 
    Aydin smiled at her and extended a hand.
    Or, Caina realized belatedly, he simply wanted to dance with her. 
    “All right,” said Caina at last. She put her hand in his, and Aydin led her into the banquet hall. He threaded his right arm through hers, and they revolved around each other, the opening of the traditional Istarish dance. Then he took her right hand, and led her into the next steps. 
    “It is a pleasure to meet you, Azarma,” said Aydin. He was smiling, but his eyes were distant. 
    “And you, Master Aydin,” said Caina. “You dance well.”
    “As do you,” said Aydin. 
    “You are too kind,” said Caina. “I fear I am out of practice.”
    He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Then you used to dance frequently?”
    “More so than I did now,” said Caina. “When we still lived in Cyrioch, my father frequently brought me as a guest to banquets. Since he has come to Istarinmul on business, I have had far fewer opportunities for social outings.”
    “A pity, indeed,” said Aydin. “So lovely a woman should not have to sit alone in her father’s house.”
    Now it was Caina’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Flattery, sir? You should know that I am not susceptible to it.”
    He laughed at that. “Would you prefer insults, then?” 
    “Only if they are entertaining,” said Caina. 
    “I fear that I must disappoint you,” said Aydin. They reached the next stage of the dance, and he spun her. She moved into the crook of his arm, and then he turned her about, his hand closing about hers once more. “I am neither a poet nor a storyteller, merely an honest merchant.”
    “An honest merchant who has seen some fighting,” said Caina. 
    “I am a man of peace,” said Aydin.
    “Who has the calluses of a swordsman upon his right hand,” said Caina, her fingers pressing tighter against his to accentuate the point. “And you haven’t used those blades at your belt very often, but they look like they’re made of real steel. Not ornamental, then, and I’d wager you’ve kept them sharp. Just in case you need them.” 
    For an instant a blank mask fell over his features. She had caught him off guard. Then his smile returned. “What an observant woman you are. I wonder if you have divined any of my other secrets.”
    “Have you discerned any of mine, sir?” said Caina.
    “You’re actually the bride of the Padishah, here in disguise,” said Aydin.
    Caina laughed aloud at that. “And what led you to that conclusion?” 
    “Your grip is very strong, stronger than