Books adjusted his rucksack and sword as the lorry drove away, gravel crunching beneath the wheels. Amaranthe, Basilard, Akstyr, and Sicarius were driving off to investigate the suspicious lot while Books headed in—unannounced—to the Spearcrest estate.
A hand thumped Books on the shoulder.
“Thanks for requesting me for this side trip, Booksie.” Maldynado carried a rifle and ammunition in addition to his usual gear, all overshadowed by his ridiculous hat. He pointed the weapon toward a stone-and-timber home at the end of the driveway. It and a carriage house overlooked the wide river as well as the main road through the pass. This early in the morning, the craggy valley walls cast shadows over the homestead.
“Requesting you?” Books asked.
“Sure, the boss told me how you thought my family connections could get us a friendly welcome and a warm bed.” He tilted his head back and yawned. “And that sounds particularly fine after last night’s interrupted snooze.”
“Amaranthe told you that, did she?” She might be right, but Books wondered at her claiming the words had come from him. Did she think to ingratiate him to Maldynado? “I hope the fact that you’re disowned doesn’t get us turned away.”
“Nah, these remote, rural Crests haven’t an inkling of what goes on in the capital. Look over there. Do you see that?” Maldynado pointed at a tiny shack downhill from the house.
“An outhouse?” Books asked.
Maldynado shuddered. “This place is as antiquated as the pyramid in the city.”
“Not quite.”
A rustic home did not mean these people could not get news from the capital, but Books shrugged and followed as Maldynado headed up the driveway.
Snowy peaks scraped the sky behind the rocky valley. Giant boulders had fallen in eons past and lay in jumbled heaps along the river’s banks. Upstream, a mill perched with an old waterwheel turning in the current, its wooden frame gray with age. A pretty landscape, though nothing suggested the sort of wealth one associated with the empire’s aristocracy. A garden and greenhouse waited for the sun to peep over the crags, though they did not likely provide enough vegetables for more than a couple of people. Even timber was scarce on this side of the river; it must have been cleared in the previous generation.
On the way to the front porch, Books and Maldynado drew even with the carriage house. The doors stood open, revealing two steam vehicles. A couple of young men labored beside one, shoveling coal into the furnace.
Books halted. Not just “young men.” Soldiers. And the red-and-silver vehicle was the one that had passed the team on the road.
A pair of dogs raced around from the back of the house. They bayed as they ran toward Books and Maldynado.
“Maybe we should have kept the others with us longer.” Books tensed, hoping the hounds were simply announcing visitors. At least their eyes weren’t glowing.
Maldynado squatted and spread his arms. “Hullo, puppies!”
“You’re going to be missing a throat in a second,” Books said.
“Nah.”
The dogs sniffed around Maldynado. He ruffled one’s ears. The other kept its distance, huffing and grumbling, but it did nothing more threatening. The friendlier one leaned against Maldynado’s leg and cocked its head for the ear rub.
“Must be female.” Books muttered.
He doubted the soldiers would be so easily won over. The two young men came out of the carriage house, brushing coal dust from their hands. Suspicious frowns darkened their faces.
YOU ARE READING
The Emperor's Edge 2: Dark Currents
FantasyIt's been three months since former enforcer Amaranthe Lokdon and the notorious assassin Sicarius thwarted kidnappers and saved the emperor's life. The problem? Nobody knows they were responsible for this good deed. Worse, they're being blamed for t...
