Conspiracy (42 page)

“
I need a gun,” Amaranthe
barked to anyone inside the cab who might be listening.

Sespian had retrieved the sword he’d picked
up earlier, and he also had a pistol in hand, as if he’d been
fearing he might need to use it. Uncertainty flashed across his
face, but he extended the firearm toward Amaranthe anyway. He
couldn’t feel good about helping his own guards get shot, but she
didn’t have time to assuage his fears and promise to aim for
non-vital targets.

“
Thanks,” she said, already
stepping back outside.

The soldier behind the coal hill was taking
aim at Maldynado again. Amaranthe leaned out and targeted him with
the pistol, making sure to move around enough that he saw her. The
fellow ducked again.

Amaranthe switched her aim and whipped off a
shot at the bodyguard attacking Maldynado. The bullet caught him in
the knee. The man didn’t cry out, but his leg buckled. Maldynado
grabbed his arm and yanked him overhead, hurling him to the
ground.

Amaranthe winced. Even with the train
running at half speed, some of these men were going to be lucky to
survive. She was beginning to think they should have chosen another
place for trying to get Sespian away from his people. This had
turned into a—

“
Your assassin is running
beside the train,” Yara called out.

Another volley of gunshots came from the
coal car, and nobody was shooting at Maldynado this time.

Amaranthe raced to the other side of the
cabin, not certain what she could do to help Sicarius but positive
she had to try.

At first, she didn’t see anything. Trees
towered along the side of the tracks, and though their lower
branches had been cut back, the higher ones stretched across the
railway, blotting out the night sky. Even in the darkness, Sicarius
should have been visible if he were running in the open stretch
alongside the tracks.

“
Where—” Amaranthe started
to ask, but stopped.

A hint of movement amongst the trees,
perhaps twenty feet back, caught her eye. More guns fired, bullets
chipping at wood as they pounded into the forest. Sicarius must
have had to sprint into the woods for cover after unfastening the
coupling.

“
Can you slow down any
more?” Amaranthe asked Yara.

Sicarius leaped over a log, ducked a branch,
and wove through the densely placed trunks. Despite the obstacles,
he was matching the speed of the train, but Amaranthe feared he
wouldn’t be able to veer to the side and catch up. He had to be
running at his top speed as it was, and it couldn’t help that
people were shooting at him.

“
The controls don’t respond
quickly,” Yara said. “It must take miles to bring this behemoth to
a stop.”

“
Do your best,” Amaranthe
said.

Two more shots fired, and Sicarius’s blond
hair, just visible amongst all the black of the forest, dropped out
of sight. When he popped back up, he’d fallen several steps.

“
Basilard, Maldynado, keep
those men busy!” Amaranthe shouted, though she knew it was
pointless. They were already doing the best they could. “Aim for
their guns with the water, Basilard. Get their powder wet.” Maybe
that would be a more useful order.

She grabbed the edge of the doorway, and
leaned out, extending her hand for Sicarius. It was a pointless
gesture—it wasn’t as if her sticking her hand out could make him
run faster—but she didn’t know what more she could do. She thought
about ordering her men to charge into the coal car, but three
against fifteen odds would be foolish to take on. At least in their
current setup, the soldiers were forced to attack via the narrow
ledges leading to the locomotive.

Sicarius’s face turned her way.

“
You don’t call that a
sprint, do you?” Amaranthe called. “You can do better than
that!”

Sicarius glanced toward the coal car, seemed
to decide the people shooting at him were as distracted as they
were going to get, and he angled out of the trees, sprinting to
catch up with the train. On the flat, cleared ground beside the
tracks, he could run faster, and his legs were a blur as he raced
to gain ground. He caught up with the coal car and was nearing the
locomotive where Amaranthe waited, hand still extended, when a
soldier ducked beneath Basilard’s hose water and threw himself down
at the edge of the car. He dropped his arm over the side, aiming a
pistol for the back of Sicarius’s head.

Amaranthe grabbed at the knife on her belt,
but knew her throw would come too late. Sicarius must have seen her
looking at the sniper, for he whipped a knife over his shoulder. It
slammed into the man’s eye. The soldier collapsed, the pistol
falling free from his limp hand.

Amaranthe swallowed. There was no doubt as
to whether that one would survive.

She glanced over her shoulder, hoping
Sespian was somewhere he couldn’t see what was going on outside.
She wouldn’t lie to him if he asked how many had been killed, but
she’d prefer it if he didn’t have a reason to ask.

Sespian was bent over the furnace, shoveling
coal into its belly. He noticed her checking on him and said, “The
water tank is below an eighth.”

“
We’re cutting off the
water, Basilard,” Amaranthe called.

She stepped inside to turn the knob and
returned, almost running into a leaping Sicarius as he caught the
corner of the door and pulled himself inside. With his momentum, he
might have knocked her to the floor, but he caught her about the
waist and kept her upright, despite the jostle. Sweat streamed down
his face, blood stained his short hair, and rips and holes gouged
his shirt. She had a feeling she wouldn’t have survived if she’d
taken the decoupling job.

“
Welcome back.” Amaranthe
might have hugged Sicarius had there not been witnesses
around.

His eyes narrowed slightly.
“We will discuss what I call a
sprint
the next time the group
trains.”

“
Oh, I’m sure that’ll be a
fun day.”

Sicarius’s gaze shifted, and he met
Sespian’s eyes over Amaranthe’s shoulder. He released her and
stepped away.

Still poised before the furnace, Sespian
stood straight, his fingers tight about the haft of the shovel. He
looked like he was thinking of swinging it at Sicarius’s head.
Something between fear and hatred hardened his eyes. Sicarius
returned the stare without any of the same rancor, at least not in
Amaranthe’s opinion, but many people found that unwavering gaze of
his as icy as a glacier.

“
Return to full speed?”
Yara asked.

“
Not yet,” Amaranthe
said.

A gunshot fired in the coal car. They still
had work to do.

“
We need to help Maldynado
and Basilard knock the rest of those men off our train.” Amaranthe
pulled out her short sword, wincing as the motion drew a new surge
of pain from the bullet wound in her shoulder, and tried to step
past Sicarius.

He caught her by the arm. “You are
injured.”

“
It’ll be fine.”

“
Stay here.” Sicarius
jumped out the door, bypassing Basilard by pulling himself straight
up onto the roof.

“
I give the orders around
here, remember?” Amaranthe called after him. As expected, no
answers floated down from above. “Difficult man.”

Considering Sicarius appeared much more
injured than she did, she didn’t want to hang back and force him
and the others to handle the fighting. After checking to make sure
Yara and Sespian were fine, Amaranthe climbed outside again.

Sicarius had already cleared the roof. He
leaped into the coal bed where Basilard and Maldynado joined him.
Already they were advancing as a team, forcing their opponents
back. In the confines of the coal bed, the soldiers couldn’t circle
around her men to attack from the sides. They had to face the
formidable swords and daggers face-on, and their numbers did little
to help.

Not sure if she’d do anything except get in
the way, Amaranthe waited in the corner, ready to help if someone
faltered. But they didn’t. She rarely had a chance to watch the
team at work, and admitted to a feeling of pride at the way they
attacked as one unit, as if they’d choreographed their movements.
Their opponents were forced back and soon ran out of room. Once the
numbers were even, Amaranthe expected the soldiers to jump off the
train of their own accord, but if anything they fought more
tenaciously than ever at the end. True to her wishes, her men did
their best not to kill anyone, and the last soldier sailed over the
side of the car with nothing but bruises.

When only Maldynado, Sicarius, and Basilard
remained standing, Amaranthe sheathed her sword.

“
Well done.” She gave
Sicarius a sheepish look. “I guess you were right and that you
didn’t need me.”

“
Of course we did,”
Maldynado said. “Someone has to witness our glorious battles in
order to relay our deeds to others.” He leaned to the side, eyes
toward the locomotive cab. “Yara didn’t come out, eh? I thought she
might enjoy seeing me do something more impressive than turning
water on and off.”

“
She’s with the emperor,
and they’re busy keeping the train moving,” Amaranthe said. She
remembered her idea about getting Sespian to develop an interest in
Yara. It wasn’t the best time to worry about such things, but she
couldn’t help but hope they were up there, talking and
bonding.

“
I’ll see if they need a
hand,” Maldynado said.

Amaranthe was tempted to tell him to leave
Sespian and Yara alone for a while longer, but he was already
climbing past her, heading for the cabin. Basilard came up to her
and pointed to her shoulder. It was too dark to read his hand
signs, but she assumed he was asking after her health.

“
It’s fine, thanks. Do you
have any injuries?”

Basilard hesitated, then shook his head.
Amaranthe took that for a yes, but not severe.

“
We have two hours left
before we reach the pass,” she said. “Why don’t you get some
rest?”

Basilard pointed at the back of the
locomotive.

“
Hold on.” Amaranthe hunted
about, looking for the lantern one of the men had brought out
earlier. “Let me find some light, so I can see what you’re
saying.”

Sicarius found the lantern first. He lit it
and handed to her.

“
Thank you,” Amaranthe
said, but almost forgot about Basilard when she saw Sicarius under
the light.

Whatever head wound he taken in the woods
had bled copiously. Crimson smeared the side of his face and
stained his blond hair. If he was bleeding elsewhere, his black
clothing hid it, but the number of tears and holes made her
uneasy.

Amaranthe caught herself before her hand
strayed up to touch his cheek. She cleared her throat instead.
“Thanks for...” Getting shot up on behalf of the team? Or
protecting her from suffering a worse fate? Surely she couldn’t
have run that fast to catch up with the train if she’d had to jump
away to avoid gun-slinging soldiers. “Thanks for your help,” she
said. That was ridiculously inadequate, but he inclined his head
once.

Amaranthe held up the lantern and nodded for
Basilard to sign whatever he’d been wondering. The light revealed a
number of new gashes amongst the scars on his face, head, and hands
as well. One of his sleeves had been torn down to his wrist, and
blood ran down his arm. An embarrassed flush ran through Amaranthe
because she had been quicker to thank Sicarius for his help—and to
show concern over his injuries. Basilard had far less reason to be
here, risking himself for this cause.

She gripped his uninjured
arm. “Thank
you
as well, Basilard.”

He nodded solemnly, then
signed,
Will there be time for me to speak
to the emperor on behalf of my people?

Yes, Amaranthe had to remember that Basilard
had a reason for being here as well. She had best try to
accommodate that if she wanted to keep him happy as a team member.
Sometimes, she admitted ruefully, it’d be easier if everyone had
joined up for the pay.

“
You’ve already told him of
the slavery and how your people are targeted, right?” Amaranthe
asked.

Briefly
.

“
So, he knows. If I were
you, I’d just try to talk to him while we’re doing... whatever it
is he wants us to do for him. I can translate for you, of course,
or Maldynado can.”

Basilard’s eyebrows twitched at that, and
she recalled that Maldynado had chosen a dubious pseudonym for him
when Basilard had signed up for the Imperial Games.

“
Books, then,” Amaranthe
said. “We should be back with him and Akstyr soon, and I’m sure he
would translate for you. You might try teaching the emperor a few
of your signs. He seems the curious, inquisitive sort.”

Basilard scratched his chin
thoughtfully, then nodded and signed,
Thank you
. He headed for the
locomotive, leaving Amaranthe alone with Sicarius.

Sometime during all the activity, the train
had started climbing into the mountains. She wished there were some
way to tell Books and Akstyr they didn’t need to cause a landslide,
but the deed had probably already been done.

Sicarius was collecting his throwing knives
and approached the man he’d dropped when he’d been sprinting
alongside the train. The dead soldier lay at the edge of the coal
car, his arm dangling over the lip. Amaranthe couldn’t chastise
Sicarius for defending himself, not when the man had been about to
shoot him in the back of the head, but the body was blatant proof
that her plan hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped it would. It upset
her that this soldier had died trying to protect Sespian.