“We’d better go after him.” Maldynado pushed into the foliage, figuring he’d lose track of Sicarius if he didn’t follow immediately. As it was, he reached the trail and didn’t see anyone. He searched for fresh boot prints, but the ground was harder packed there, and he couldn’t decide which way the kidnappers had gone. He listened for a rustle of leaves or snapping of twigs that would announce Sicarius’s passage, but of course that never came. Near the water’s edge, a frog started croaking, but nothing stirred in the underbrush.
Sespian, making less noise than Maldynado would have expected, stepped back onto the trail. “Which way?” he asked.
Uhm. Maldynado pointed into the woods opposite of the peninsula and headed in that direction. If Sicarius had stuck to the path, Maldynado should have seen him. Besides, he didn’t want to appear clueless in front of the emperor.
Maldynado pushed through dense, tangled undergrowth for several minutes and was about to confess that he’d been guessing when the crow cawed again. Complaining about assassins passing nearby? He angled toward the call.
Up ahead, the trees thinned. Afraid he’d simply walked in a circle and returned to the lake, Maldynado almost turned around, but curiosity or perhaps intuition prompted him to continue.
Between one step and the next, the trees ended. Maldynado found himself squinting into autumn sunlight slanting down from a swath of open blue sky. A huge circular expanse stretched before him with all the trees, bushes, grass, and moss cleared. No, not cleared, he realized as he walked off an edge, almost tripping because of a height difference from one step to the next. The entire circle, easily hundreds of meters in diameter, was a foot lower than the surrounding earth. The foliage hadn’t been cleared; it’d been smashed. Compacted beneath a weight so great, even stout trees had crumpled beneath it, their trunks flattened into the ground.
“Bloody bears,” Sespian breathed. “They landed here? I didn’t realize how big that craft was. Or how heavy. How could something with such mass fly?”
“I don’t know.” Maldynado tilted his head. “Bloody bears?”
Sespian flushed. “When I was growing up, one of my bodyguards always said, ‘bloody balls.’ I adopted it until my mother heard and said it wasn’t appropriate for young princes to say balls. ‘Bears’ was my work-around. The word still slips out at times.”
That story did little to change Maldynado’s mind that Sespian might be a tad soft for the position of emperor. “Do yourself a favor and don’t say things like that around military men, Sire.”
The flush deepened.
“The tracks end over there,” Sicarius said from behind and to the side of them.
Surprised by his soundless return, Maldynado nearly spat a, “Bloody bears,” himself.
“Lokdon was walking, hemmed in by soldiers,” Sicarius said. “The tracks disappear fifteen feet from the shelf.” He pointed at the foot-deep depression ringing the circle. “The boundary marks the hull of the craft, presumably.”
“How’d they get inside?” Sespian asked. “A ramp?”
“Unknown.”
“So, they have her.” Maldynado sank into a crouch, his elbows on his knees. Curse his dumb ancestors, why hadn’t he done better at piloting that dirigible? If he’d gone straight ahead toward Sunders City at top speed instead of trying to lose their pursuers in the wetlands, they might have made it. The enemy might have broken away to keep from being seen by outlying residents. “We have to go after her.”
Sicarius had moved away from Maldynado and Sespian and stood on the compacted earth, his gaze toward the south. The direction the craft had gone.
“How will your team find her?” Sespian asked.
Your team, he said, not we. Of course. What did some outlaw mercenary leader matter to him?
Maldynado caught himself before he said something snide. The emperor’s own mission called to him, that was all. And that mission might save the entire empire. Sespian couldn’t cast it aside to help rescue one person.
“I don’t know, but we will. Somehow—” Maldynado snapped his fingers and spun toward Sicarius. “That map. Is that what you were doing? Figuring out where they’re taking Amaranthe and where they might land?”
“Books was right,” Sicarius said without looking at him. “There’s no way to tell if they’ll continue in a straight line or if their destination is within the satrapy.”
“Of course they’re going somewhere in the satrapy,” Maldynado said. “We think Forge people are flying that thing, right? Well, if we’re figuring right, Forge’s priority is the capital. They’re trying to back the next heir to the empire—no offense, Sire—right? If they’re acting soon, they’re not going to suddenly decide to take a vacation on some tropical beach down south. Maybe they’re not going far at all.”
For the first time, Sicarius met Maldynado’s eyes and seemed to be interested in what he had to say.
“We can catch them,” Maldynado insisted. He had to believe that. “What cities were near the line you drew?”
“Markworth and Deerlick Wood lie along the bearing I calculated.”
Erg, Markworth was over three hundred miles away, and Deerlick Wood, at the edge of the satrapy, even farther. Deerlick Wood was a derelict mining town and Markworth a resort town on Lake Seventy-three, a spot where wealthy warrior-caste families vacationed, extending their summers when the weather grew cooler up north. Maldynado’s family had property in the area. He’d even visited as a kid, but that didn’t help him come up with a reason for Forge to go there. As far as he knew, there weren’t any natural resources, manufacturing facilities, or business opportunities. It was a destination for fun. Nothing more. Forge didn’t seem to be all that interested in fun.
“Even if they’re not going to those towns,” Maldynado said, “they were heading south along the river, right? The river is populated all up and down in that area, so people would be likely to see that monstrosity flying overhead. People like to talk. They’d mention something like that, and we could tell if we were on the right track.”
Sicarius had stopped listening, or at least he wasn’t looking at Maldynado. His eyes had turned toward Sespian, who, to his credit, wasn’t squirming under the attention. Maldynado always felt like a schoolchild being taken to task when Sicarius gave him a look that lasted more than two seconds.
“You will go to Sunders City next?” Sicarius asked.
“I must, yes,” Sespian said.
“Your absence in the capital will allow schemers to strike.”
“I must know what exactly Forge plans. There is someone traveling through Sunders City that I… must find.”
“You could send someone else,” Sicarius said.
“There’s no one else I trust.”
“You sought out our team.”
“Because of her.” Sespian waved toward the sky in the direction the aircraft had flown. “If she’s gone now… ” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. That surprised Maldynado. Did the emperor care about Amaranthe? Why would that be? “Your team has done all that I requested. I thank you, but I’ll go my own way now. You need to find your missing comrade.”
“Your mission,” Sicarius said, as if Sespian hadn’t spoken at all. “It will be dangerous? A risk to your life?”
Sespian lifted his hands, palms up. “Probably. That doesn’t change anything. I’m prepared to go on my own.”
Insects droned in the wetlands. A second frog joined the first, starting up a croaking chorus. Sicarius looked to the south again. He had the appearance of a man facing a hard choice, though Maldynado couldn’t understand why. They had to go after the boss.
Finally, Sicarius said, “I will get her. Sire, Maldynado and the others will accompany you to Sunders City and act as your bodyguards, or lackeys if that is what you need. They will protect you.”
“I don’t need lackeys or bodyguards,” Sespian said at the same time as Maldynado lifted his hands and said, “Wait, I’m going after the boss too.”
&
nbsp; “You will accompany the emperor.” As he spoke, Sicarius issued his favorite dark glare, the one that could make a man’s love apples shrivel up faster than a nude streak into the snow on Solstice Day.
Maldynado usually avoided that stare, but this time he crossed his arms over his chest and stared back. “I’m going too.”
Maldynado knew that Sespian’s safety should be his first priority—disowned or not, he was a son of the warrior-caste, and thus sworn to defend and protect the emperor and empire—but he wouldn’t turn his back on Amaranthe. Besides, Sespian was standing in front of them, safe for the moment. Amaranthe was the one who’d been captured by some torture-loving goon with a passion for molesting people. Maldynado didn’t trust Sicarius to go after her alone. He might do some obligatory hunting, but he didn’t care about Amaranthe the way the rest of the team did. He didn’t care about anyone.
In the face of Maldynado’s stubborn response, Sicarius strode across the field toward him, each step firm and deliberate. Maldynado prepared to defend himself, even if it meant ending up compacted into the earth alongside the smashed trees, but Sicarius stopped a pace away.
“Amaranthe would wish the majority of the team to help the emperor,” he said. “That is what we came down here to do.”
The argument surprised Maldynado—Sicarius didn’t have a history of using words to sway people—and he almost caught himself nodding. He turned the head movement into a shake and a scowl. “That was before she got captured. She’d—”
“Want the team to help the emperor,” Sicarius repeated. “I will go after her. I can travel faster on my own.”
Maldynado wanted to deny the statement, but he knew Sicarius spoke the truth. If he gave it his full effort, Sicarius could go farther and faster than anyone.
“I’ll get her,” Sicarius repeated softly. There was a determined intensity to his eyes that Maldynado hadn’t noticed before. He was always so pragmatic and seemed indifferent to feelings and emotions, but that look in his eyes…
“Fine,” Maldynado sighed. “If you promise to do everything possible to find her and not give up.”
Sespian cleared his throat. “While it’s nice that you two are in agreement, I never said I’d take any of your people with me. The security and continuation of the empire as we know it is at stake. I’m not willing to bring untested mercenaries along.”
“Untested?” Maldynado touched his chest. “Untested? I’ve been tested by swords, rifles, bows, giant krakens, man-eating makarovi, and don’t forget all the man-slaying machines powered by wizard magic. That’s just in the last six months.”
Sicarius and Sespian were eying each other and ignoring Maldynado. Nothing new there.
“You promised payment,” Sicarius said.
“What?” Sespian asked.
“In your note. You promised payment for your kidnapping. You said the money is in Sunders City.”
“Corporal Lokdon said she’s not interested in payment.”
“She’s not here,” Sicarius said, his tone hard.
If Maldynado hadn’t known him—and known money was even less likely to sway him than an eyelash-batting from a girl—he would have believed Sicarius wanted the coin.
“I see,” Sespian said, his jaw tight. “Very well.”
Maldynado wondered if Sicarius had chosen the best method for ensuring the team got to accompany Sespian. Wouldn’t they be better served by Sespian believing they were in this for altruistic reasons? Or at least reasons that weren’t as shallow as craving coin?
Sicarius pulled out his black knife and strode toward Sespian. The young man tensed but stood his ground.
Seeing them face-to-face gave Maldynado a start. For one thing, he hadn’t realized they were the same height. Sicarius always seemed taller than his six feet while Sespian, lacking the ever-present glare and body full of lean ropy muscle, seemed smaller. What really struck him though was the similarity of the determined, mulish expressions they each sported. Huh.
Sicarius flipped the knife and extended it, hilt first, to Sespian.
“What do I do with that?” Sespian looked at it, as if he thought he was supposed to examine it for some secret about the otherworldly technology.
“Take it,” Sicarius said.
Sespian grasped the hilt, though he simply held it out, brow furrowed in askance.
“I have often found its properties useful,” Sicarius said. “You may find the same.”
Standing a few feet away, Maldynado could only gape. Sicarius was giving up his knife? His favorite knife? He didn’t even let Amaranthe use that.
If Sespian knew the magnitude of the gift he’d been given, he didn’t show it. In fact, he continued to hold it out, as if he were thinking of rejecting the gift.
Sicarius spoke again without giving him a chance. “Maldynado and the others will accompany you to pick up the money. I’ve delayed long enough.” He glanced toward the southern sky again, then started past Maldynado, apparently intending to head off in that direction immediately. He didn’t even have any supplies beyond the knives he wore and whatever was in his rucksack.
Sicarius halted beside Maldynado long enough to say, for his ears alone, “Make yourself indispensable, so he chooses to keep the team around. If I return with Lokdon and find you’ve lost the emperor… ” Sicarius’s eyes had never been fuller of threat when he said, “Don’t lose him.”
Chapter 2
It hadn’t taken more than five seconds inside the enemy aircraft to convince Amaranthe Lokdon that falling out of her team’s perfectly good dirigible and being captured had been a very bad idea. The cold, unadorned black walls lacked charm, but, more than that, the cavernous corridors branched and branched again, forming an asymmetric layout that made her feel like a field mouse being dragged into the bowels of a fox’s den. Even if she escaped, she might never find her way out. The proportions were odd, too, with high ceilings above narrow, confining corridors. In a spot where they climbed stairs, she found herself tripping over the steeply spaced treads. She remembered Sicarius’s claim that this technology had come from a non-human race. For the first time, she truly believed it.
The white-haired man walking behind Amaranthe, prodding her whenever her step slowed, added to her unease. At first, she had hoped her first guess wrong and that this wasn’t Pike, the old emperor’s Master Interrogator, but one of his men had addressed him by name. And rank. Apparently, he’d kept the “Major,” even though he’d been booted from the army for raping recruits. No doubt Emperor Raumesys and Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest had found those sadistic tendencies useful and encouraged the ex-officer to further develop them.
Had Major Pike been the only one accompanying Amaranthe, she might have tried to surprise him and escape, but a dozen other men marched ahead of and behind, hemming her in. Having her wrists tied behind her back didn’t encourage athletic feats either.
“Should I feel flattered that so many people came out to capture me?” Amaranthe asked over her shoulder. Since talking had always been her best way of gathering information, stirring up a conversation might be to her advantage. If nothing else, she wanted to know what had happened to Sicarius and the others. If this aircraft had succeeded in shooting down the dirigible, they could be wounded. Or worse.
Something hard pounded her between her shoulder blades. The pain, when compared to some of the injuries she’d received in the last twenty-four hours, was minimal, but the blow did cause her to stumble and bump into the men walking in front of her.
“Sorry,” Amaranthe said when one glared back at her. “Uneven flooring.”
The man’s over-the-shoulder glare continued for a long moment, and, as Amaranthe righted herself and resumed walking, she scrutinized him, trying to decide where he might have been recruited from. He had short hair, a clean-shaven face, and an athletic build, as did the other men escorting her. Soldier, her mind proclaimed, though she had no proof. They wore civilian clothing—factory-sewn wool trousers, sturdy cotton ve
sts and dusters, and a variety of workman’s boots. None of the garments suggested uniformity, though her guards did have a tendency to walk in step with each other.
“Are you General Ravido’s men?” Amaranthe asked. She didn’t expect anybody to answer, especially not with the boss five feet away, but maybe she could surprise an eye flicker out of them, something that might confirm her guess.
Before that happened, Pike grabbed her elbow. Amaranthe expected another blow to land between her shoulder blades, and braced herself, but he yanked her back instead, then propelled her face-first into the wall. If she’d had her hands free, she might have caught herself, but without that recourse she smashed into the unyielding black alloy. Pain burst through her cheekbone. She bit her tongue, and blood flooded her mouth.
Amaranthe tried to pull away, but Pike leaned into her back.
The grip remained on her elbow, but knuckles or something else hard dug into a tender point near her kidney. She sucked in a pained gasp of air. Her first instinct was to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. She tried to lift her leg for a backward kick, but his own legs trapped hers, forcing her knees against the wall.
Hot, fast breaths whispered across her swelling cheek. Had the effort taxed Pike? No, despite his age, rock hard muscles pressed against Amaranthe’s back. He was fit. He was just… excited. She swallowed and tried not to dwell on that idea, but his face came in close, beard stubble scraping at her skin. Fresh fear arose in her heart. All along, she’d been concerned for herself, but she hadn’t figured pain would be applied so soon. Surely, they should reach a nicely appointed torture chamber first?
Blood and Betrayal Page 3
