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    Gods in the Grey City: Gods in the Grey City, #1
    Gods in the Grey City: Gods in the Grey City, #1
    Gods in the Grey City: Gods in the Grey City, #1
    Ebook62 pages47 minutes

    Gods in the Grey City: Gods in the Grey City, #1

    By Lenni A.

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    About this ebook

    Ciro buys more than he bargained for when he purchases a slave capable of bypassing the brand on her magic. He drags her on a journey with him to learn her secrets, but his own may kill them both.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLenni
    Release dateNov 2, 2017
    ISBN9781386886853
    Gods in the Grey City: Gods in the Grey City, #1
    Author

    Lenni A.

    Lenni is the pen-name for a librarian with a wild imagination. She loves reading, writing, drawing, baking, and not nearly enough hours in the day to do all these things. She has been writing since she can hold a pen and reading since she could hold a book. You can see her full body of work at www.atthequillsmercy.com and check out her blog over at www.literaryloon.com.

    Read more from Lenni A.

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      Book preview

      Gods in the Grey City - Lenni A.

      Chapter One

      When she fell at his feet, he didn’t break his stride stepping over her. Like the rest of this place, she is boring. The steady drone of uninteresting peasants, uninteresting merchants beating their uninteresting slaves and pimping their uninteresting wares was only a vague roar around him.

      Hold 'er down! Yes, nothing special. In a moment she'll scream as she's beaten and cuffed around the ears; as a Muri's ears are very sensitive to pain. She will be subdued, then dragged off to whatever hovel she lives in to be beaten, possibly raped, then put to work when her masters are done with her. Muri slaves are too valuable to kill despite their abundance. No need to stop and look.

      The subsequent scream was decidedly male.

      Now he stopped.

      She cut off his hand! 

      Now he turned.

      She's not supposed to be able to do that! The brand-

      Obviously doesn't mean a damn thing!

      In between the gawking market goers, he watched three men struggle with the female Muri. He focused on her, the gleaming ribbon of her magic fizzling out and spraying blood in the air. They must have broken her concentration when they wrestled her to the dusty ground. He saw her shirt ride up to expose the brand on her belly; enchanted to prevent the Muri from acting against her masters, a harsh dark scar on the pale, undernourished flesh. Yet, it was ineffective.

      Now he walked over.

      The Muri struggled against her masters, making it to her feet as he approached. Her magic rippled as she called forth her only defense. He easily wove his way through the gathering crowd, all eyes watching the snarling Muri. The slave’s eyes were on her attackers, rage making the vein-blue color as barren as the sand beneath her boots. She paid him no notice as he neared.

      Before she fought further, his fist landed firmly on the back of her neck, rendering her unconscious. Her body crumbled to the ground and her ribbon faded away.

      Thank ya kindly, sir. Hope ya don’t think us weak for lettin’ ‘er get the best ‘o us there.

      He inspected the Muri before looking up at the villager, faceless even as he looked right at him. I’ll buy her. The man murmured, his voice a raspy winter breeze.

      The townsman shuddered under the ice of the stranger’s whisper. What for? Ain’t got no value. Can’t obey for nuthin’. Last guy to try and bed ‘er lost more than a hand.

      He looked over the townsman’s shoulder as some of his equally faceless friends bind up the bleeding stump, and cart off the injured. One hundred gold for the Muri as she is.

      The stranger’s fleeting attentions reached the townsman’s eyes only when they narrowed in suspicion. I’d never sell to some nameless fella.

      "Ciro. And give me everything she owns. And I mean everything."

      Filth don’t have possessions.

      I don’t care if it’s the rise of dirt she sleeps on. I want it. Ciro’s yellow eyes bored into the townsman, finally seeing his whole face. Sun tanned and pockmarked, the lack of timely obedience the only vaguely interesting thing about him. Even the protruding belly associated with many sales and little work, was sadly typical.

      One hundred fifty gold and any further negotiations will be poorly received. Ciro dropped the coins into the townsman’s hand. Ciro knew the fat man keep quiet. You can get a family of Muri for one hundred fifty gold pieces.

      Faceless Townsman shoved the gold into his pockets, and turned to procure what little belongings the Muri must have while Ciro easily flung the blood-spattered slave over his shoulder. A sack containing her possessions was hesitantly placed in his hand, and he turned to the dispersing crowd. He didn’t look back.

      Ciro ignored the stares as he walked through the streets searching for an inn with an unconscious Muri woman over his shoulder.

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