Conspiracy (5 page)

Every time dry foliage crunched beneath her
or Books’s boots, Amaranthe winced, but none of the workers looked
their way. Whoever this group was, they seemed confident that
nobody was around to witness their cargo being loaded.

Once she had put twenty or thirty meters
between her and the tracks, Amaranthe paused, looking for
Sicarius.

Books tapped her on the shoulder and,
apparently of a similar mind, whispered, “Where’d he go?”

Amaranthe could only offer a vague, “That
way, probably.”

She turned parallel to the tracks, stepping
over the rows of corn stubble and heading toward the back of the
depot building. They reached its protective shadow without trouble.
Amaranthe poked her head around the far corner as the lorry closest
to the freight cars started up. It headed straight toward her,
following the road that led past the depot and into the fields from
whence it had come.

Amaranthe jumped back from the corner. The
wall did not offer any alcoves or decorative architectural features
that would create shadows for hiding in.

The lorry rumbled closer, and its twin
running lanterns pushed back the darkness near the road.

“
Suck it in,” Amaranthe
whispered and pressed herself against the back of the
building.

“
It’s sucked,” Books
responded.

She hoped the vehicle would drive past and
disappear down the road, but it parked not ten feet away, the cab
and the two men inside fully visible to Amaranthe. If they turned
their heads in her direction...

Worried about discovery, she almost decided
to dart out of hiding and slip into the back of the lorry, hoping
she’d make it before anyone noticed her. But the second vehicle was
being directed into position for unloading now, and there were too
many people with far too many lanterns glowing in the area.

“
Back the way we came,”
Amaranthe whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“Slowly.”

With Books leading this time, they eased
back toward the far side of the building.

“
Now where?” he asked when
they reached the corner.

“
Out into the field.”
Amaranthe pointed diagonally away from the building and away from
the lorry. “We’ll go out there and angle around to the road. We’ll
have to catch one of the lorries as it’s driving away.”

“
Jump onto the back of a
moving vehicle?” Books asked. “That sounds perilous.”

“
We’ve been doing worse on
the train all week. It’ll be easy.”

Easy
might be an optimistic word, but Amaranthe had to sound
confident in front of her team. Speaking of her team, where
was
Sicarius? Had he
already slipped into one of the lorries?

After waiting another moment to see if he
would appear, Amaranthe said, “This way.”

She led the way into the field before
circling toward the road. She wished she could find a drainage
ditch or a small depression that would hide them, but nothing other
than the harvested rows presented itself. They would have to drop
to their bellies when the lorries passed and hope nobody with keen
eyes was watching the sides of the road.

Amaranthe knelt to wait on the final stages
of the loading. When Books sank down beside her, she asked, “Any
idea where we are?”

“
Besides in a cold, dark
field?”

“
Yes.”

“
There are a couple of
possibilities for an abandoned railway stub in Agricultural
District...” Books peered toward the mountains. “Is this
Three?”

“
That’s what Sicarius
said.”

“
Ah, then we’re within
fifty miles north or south of the byway we took into the mountains
last spring. This might be the old Archcrest Plantation. Several
warrior-caste landowners with timber or agricultural properties had
railway stubs run onto their property when the lines were first
being built last century. The last Archcrest heir died in the
Western Sea Conflict a generation ago, and the land reverted to the
empire until such time that a distinguished soldier earns entry
into the warrior caste. This being rather fertile land so close to
the capital, though, it’s being reserved for someone extremely
noteworthy.” Books craned his neck, peering in all sorts of
directions now. “I wonder if the old Archcrest manor is still
around. Did you know that family’s history goes all the way back to
the Battle of Aquenerfarus when the empire routed the native
civilization by the lake? The history books pretend they were
primitive clans, but—”

Amaranthe cleared her throat as loudly as
she dared. “So, your answer is, ‘Yes, we’re probably on the
Archcrest Plantation.’”

“
Er, correct.”

The workers raised the gate on the second
lorry and dropped the flap, apparently finished unloading cargo. To
Amaranthe’s surprise, the men who had been at the depot when the
train first rolled in grabbed weapons and rucksacks and climbed
into the rail car. Eight men in all. The last one pulled the
rolling door shut from within.

“
That might not be good,”
Amaranthe whispered.

“
Let’s hope they stay in
that car and that the others are able to avoid them,” Books
said.

“
Let’s hope they’re
smart
enough to avoid
them.” Amaranthe knew Basilard would not be a problem, but Akstyr
did have a tendency to make reckless choices now and then, and
Maldynado would probably smirk and let him.

“
Would you be?” Books
asked.

Amaranthe frowned at him.

“
I simply meant that you’d
probably want to spy on them for information,” Books said. “Stroll
in and chat with them perhaps.”

“
Oh, please, I haven’t done
anything that imprudent in ages.”

“
Hm.”

“
Two months at least,”
Amaranthe amended. In part because of the lecture Books had given
her that summer, she’d been trying to make more thoughtful, wiser
choices when it came to dealing with the opposition. She did still
have a tendency toward... impulsive actions. Like hopping off a
perfectly good train in the middle of the night to—

“
They’re coming,” Books
said.

Amaranthe dropped to her belly, keeping her
head just high enough to see over the rows of corn stubble. Books
stretched out next to her.

The first lorry was rolling away from the
depot, and the remaining two men climbed into the cab of the
second. Amaranthe eyed the cargo bed on the back vehicle. That’d be
the most likely place to hop on and stow away.

As the men were closing the doors, a shadow
moved at the back of the second lorry. If Amaranthe hadn’t been
staring right at the spot, she would have missed it, and, even so,
it was gone so quickly she almost thought it her imagination, but
she knew it wasn’t.

Sicarius was aboard. Now it was time for her
and Books to join him.

The first lorry approached their position.
Amaranthe lowered her head until dirt scraped at her chin. The
vehicle bumped and rattled past on the weed-choked road without
slowing. In fact, she was surprised—and concerned—with how fast the
lorry was moving. Catching up and jumping aboard would be a
challenge. She pressed her palms into the damp earth, ready to
spring up as soon as the second vehicle drew even with her and
Books.

“
Now,” Amaranthe
whispered.

She jumped to her feet, and, staying low,
ran toward the road. The lorry rumbled forward, pulling away from
them. As soon as Amaranthe’s boots hit the road, she straightened
and turned her run into a sprint. Books’s boots pounded the earth
right behind her. The lorry picked up speed. The weeds and ruts
made for difficult running, and Amaranthe misstepped, almost
twisting her ankle. Books passed her.

Amaranthe urged her legs to greater speed.
Her rucksack bumped on her back, thumping against her shoulders,
but she gained ground.

Books reached the lorry first. He reached
out and caught the back gate with one hand. His jump was
ungraceful, but he made it, disappearing beneath the tarp amidst a
tangle of long legs.

The road curved, and Amaranthe closed the
distance. She reached out, fingertips brushing the cold metal gate.
When the road straightened, the lorry picked up speed again and
pulled away from her. The flap lifted, and Sicarius peered out.

Cursed ancestors, she wasn’t going to fail
in front of him, not when Books had made it. Amaranthe pumped her
legs faster. She closed the distance and grasped at the gate again.
This time, she caught the top with both hands. Holding on to the
accelerating lorry turned her running strides into leaping bounds,
barely held in control. Turning one of those bounds into a jump in
order to thrust herself inside was a daunting task, especially with
the rucksack’s weight on her back.

If Amaranthe looked up and met Sicarius’s
eyes, he would probably help her inside, but she mulishly set her
jaw.

She sprang and pulled at the same time. Her
belly hammered the top of the gate, and her knee thumped unyielding
metal. Growling, Amaranthe wriggled and pulled herself inside,
possibly with less grace than Books had displayed.

She collapsed, her back against the inside
of the gate. The darkness in the cargo bed prevented her from
seeing anything, though she could hear Books’s labored breathing.
Or maybe that was her own. She hoped it wasn’t loud enough for the
men in the cab to hear, or all this would be for naught. But the
boiler and furnace were mounted between them and the cargo bed, so
Amaranthe hoped that would offer noise insulation.

“
Are you all right?” Books
whispered.

“
Of course,” Amaranthe
replied. “I’m finally warm.”

Books snorted.

Someone settled beside
her, shoulder to shoulder. Sicarius? Amaranthe surreptitiously
wiped sweat from her brow and stomped down a goofy thought that
popped into her mind. She was
not
going to ask him how she smelled now. Instead,
she leaned her head on his shoulder, figuring it was best to rest
while they could. Who knew what kind of adventure she had just
signed her team up for?

* * * * *

The train had started up again, heading away
from the isolated depot, and Akstyr was trying to get some sleep,
but Maldynado kept climbing in and out through the trapdoor. More
than once, hindered by the dark interior, he stepped on Akstyr with
his big feet.

“
What’re you
doing
?” Akstyr finally
asked.

A hand covered his mouth, not
Maldynado’s—Akstyr could see Maldynado dangling, legs halfway
through the trapdoor. It had to be Basilard.

Akstyr pushed the hand away and asked more
softly, “What’re you doing? Both of you.”

Maldynado dropped down again and slid the
trapdoor shut, careful not to make any noise. The darkness inside
the car thickened.

“
They’re done loading the
train,” Maldynado said.

“
That usually happens
before the train starts moving, yes,” Akstyr said. “Why don’t we
all go back to sleep?”

“
They didn’t get
off
the train once they
finished loading.”

“
They’re riding along with
their guns? That’s not real surprising.”

“
I guess not.”

Akstyr flopped back, throwing his arm over
his eyes. “If they stay in their car, and we stay in ours, it
shouldn’t matter.”

“
As long as we don’t
stumble across each other.” Maldynado laughed. “Could be kind of
awkward if one of us and one of them decide to hop up on top of the
train at the same time to water the shrubs.”

Akstyr rolled his eyes. Maldynado was at
least ten years older than he was, but he didn’t act like it
sometimes. It was like he was still a boy. Probably because he had
grown up in some wealthy aristocrat’s house, not a backward street
drowning in sewage where, if one didn’t pay attention, one got
kidnapped and sold downriver to be enslaved in the boiler room on a
steamer for years and years. Or worse. Akstyr had lost a friend
with a pretty face to one of the slimy brothels in the ghetto where
nobody cared if the kids were willing screws or not.

The train picked up speed, leaving the depot
far behind. Akstyr relaxed. Whenever Sicarius was gone, he felt
more at ease, and, with Amaranthe gone too, he could plan his next
move without worrying about—

“
We could check up on
them,” Maldynado said.

Akstyr sighed.

“
Maybe they’re in there,
talking about their weapons and where they’re going,” Maldynado
said. “I reckon the boss would like to have as much information as
possible.”

“
Go check then. Me and
Basilard will wait here.” Akstyr had no idea what Basilard wanted
to do—it was impossible to talk to him in the dark—but he had more
common sense than Maldynado, so he probably wouldn’t go hunting for
trouble.

“
How is it that you command
as large of a cut on payday as I do, when you only ever look out
for yourself and your interests?” Maldynado asked.

“
I’ve got
charms.”

Maldynado snorted. “Sure, you do. That’s why
you’re always asking me to find you women.”

“
I can get women without
you.” Actually, Akstyr hadn’t had much success at that, but he’d
never admit it.

“
Women with
teeth?”

“
Maldynado, eat
street.”