The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 10 Pt. 1

Amaranthe woke to Sicarius saying, “Lokdon,” from the doorway of the tiny icehouse office.

She dropped her legs over the edge of the cot, feeling the chill of the floor even through socks. “We’ve been drooled on by a horrible man-slaying beast together. I think you can call me by my first name.”

The coals had burned low in the stove, and it gave off little warmth or light. She groped for her boots.

“Your team is here,” Sicarius said, a hint of bemusement edging his voice.

Either I’m getting better at reading him or he’s starting to emote. “You sound surprised.”

“Aren’t you?”

Yes. “Of course not.”

“Huh.”

Sicarius left before Amaranthe could inquire who or how many had come. She dressed and left the office. At the bottom of the stairs, Akstyr and Books waited. Books yawned and rubbed red eyes. The bulge of a bottle sagged outward from his jacket pocket, and the sword attached to his belt looked like it hadn’t been used since his boyhood weapons classes. Akstyr slouched against the wall, his baggy clothes rumpled, his hands jammed in his pockets. Bruises and lumps splotched his face.

The men stood taller when they saw her, though the effect was not particularly inspiring. At least they had come.

As Amaranthe descended the stairs, Maldynado strolled through the broken door. He wore a jaunty sword belt with a sheathed saber hanging from his left hip. An obnoxious amount of gold gilded the hilt and scabbard. Akstyr’s gaze lingered on the valuable weapon.

When Maldynado came even with Books and Akstyr, his upper lip wrinkled. “Which one of you boys fell in a vat of cheap wine on the way over here?”

Akstyr sneered. Books glared. Unperturbed, Maldynado surveyed them further, then pulled out a case and extricated two cards.

“Your barber?” Amaranthe asked.

“Tailor. I’ve never seen two people in such need of sartorial attention.”

“Considering you were wearing a furry loincloth when we met, I’m not sure you should be offering fashion advice.”

“Ah, but it was a stylish loincloth that showed off—” Maldynado winked, “—everything.”

She could not argue.

He raised a finger. “Say, did you know there’s a half-eaten body in the street out there?"

“Yes.” Since she did not want to alarm her troops this early into the mission, lest they decide to leave, she decided on nonchalance. “It’s not the best neighborhood.”

“On that we can agree,” Books said.

Maldynado waved a hand in front of his face. “Is your breath always that rank?”

“If I offend you, you have my permission to move to the other side of the room.” Books lowered his voice. “Or the empire.”

“Since you’re the offensive one, maybe you should do the moving so the rest of us can breathe. There’s a dumpster down the block where you might feel at home.” Maldynado turned to Akstyr. “Do you believe this fellow?”

“Who cares?” That surly curl to Akstyr’s lip seemed permanent.

Amaranthe realized getting these men to come had been the easy part. Getting them to work together without blood, and business cards, flying would be the true test.