Ghost Price Read Free Page A

conversation between the two men. 
    “It is folly, Ismet,” said the taller gladiator. “I tell it to you again, it is folly.” 
    “When did you become so craven, Kuyat?” said Ismet, sneering. “You were never so timid before.”
    Kuyat grunted. “I have more to lose now.”
    Ismet snorted and waved a hand at the training room. “All of this?”
    “I do well in the fights,” said Kuyat. “Soon I will have saved enough to buy my freedom.”
    “Or,” said Ismet, “you could take the money and buy your freedom this very night.” 
    Kuyat glared at the sand. “It is not our money.” 
    Ismet’s sneer grew sharper. “You were not so scrupulous last night.”
    “I’ve had some time to think it over,” said Kuyat. “I’ve changed my mind.” He pointed at the bandages on Ismet’s arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t rethought the matter.”
    “That was just bad luck,” said Ismet. “The fellow with the knives just happened by at the wrong time.” 
    “Or it was a sign from the Living Flame,” said Kuyat, “warning us to turn back before it was too late.” 
    “The Living Flame?” said Ismet. “As if the Living Flame gives a damn about slaves. Do you think this is lawful? Do you think we deserve to be slaves?” His voice grew angrier. “Our freedom was stolen from us, so we shall steal it right back!” 
    “The old woman,” said Kuyat. “She doesn’t deserve this.” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t have wanted it. If he knew what we were doing, he would be appalled.”
    “Well, he’s dead, isn’t he?” said Ismet. “The money will go to waste. And it’s not as if we’ll leave the old hag to starve in the street. We can look after her.”
    “I doubt that,” said Kuyat. “No. My mind is made up. If you wish to do this, you will not have my help.”
    Ismet spat upon the sand. “So be it, then. Perhaps I’ll watch and laugh as a free man as you die in the arena.”
    He got to his feet and walked away, vanishing into a side passage. Kuyat scowled, shook his head, and saw Caina looking at him. His dark eyes widened, and she could guess at the thoughts racing through his mind. A gladiator was not supposed to talk as he did. 
    “Forgive me, your excellency,” said Kuyat, dropping his eyes, “if our speech was…churlish. Ismet and I have a dispute over a wager, that is all. It is nothing for your excellency to concern yourself.” 
    Caina shrugged. “Nor should my excellency eavesdrop on matters than are none of my concern. My name is Kyrazid Tomurzu, and I am a factor for the Lord Governor of Imperial Cyrica.”
    “And his lordship is looking for gladiators?” said Kuyat, thumping his muscled chest. “You could do worse than me, sir. I have fought sixty-seven bouts in the last two years, and lost only five of them. I am not a champion, aye, but I know how to handle a sword.”
    “An impressive record,” said Caina. She considered for a moment. “The teachers of the Ring must have trained you well.”
    Kuyat scoffed. “Bah, they do not know the blade of a scimitar from its hilt. I learned to fight as a soldier of the Padishah.”
    “How did you become a gladiator?” said Caina. 
    “I committed a crime and was sold into slavery for my offense,” said Kuyat.
    “You were at Marsis,” said Caina, “weren’t you?”
    Kuyat said nothing, his face going still.
    “I was at Marsis, too,” said Caina, lowering her voice. “On the opposite side of the battle, I suppose.” She shuddered. “I remember watching the Balarigar throw Rezir Shahan’s head into his soldiers.”
    “I was there,” said Kuyat. “I saw it happen.” His voice grew quiet. “The attack upon Marsis was folly. Utter madness.” He rubbed a hand over the black stubble of his hair. “Some of my friends and I escaped the wreck of the battle and tried to make our way back to Istarinmul. The Slavers’ Brotherhood captured us and sold us as gladiators. They said we were cowards and deserters,