The Emperor's Edge 2: Dark Currents

The Emperor's Edge 2: Ch. 15

Going down the mountain should have been easier than climbing up it, but Sicarius set a pace that would have tired a steam tramper. At least the storm had passed. Overhead, budding branches created a latticework framing a blue sky.

While admiring that sky, Amaranthe slipped on a wet, mossy stone. The barrel of her rifle caught on a tree and the butt jabbed her in the ribs. She winced at her klutziness. “Any reason we’re in such a hurry?”

“You find this pace taxing?” There was a hint of something in his tone—like maybe he intended to practice that teasing she had offered to receive.

“No.” Teasing aside, she suspected he would read any admission of weakness as a request for extra training. “It’s just that a more leisurely pace would let me think about everything. I meant to cogitate more last night, but I fell asleep as soon as my head touched that stiff, straw-stuffed object Hagcrest placed in the pillow position.” It was probably good she had fallen asleep before she could dwell overmuch on the fact she was sleeping in a dead man’s bed.

“We left Akstyr and Basilard alone with our lorry and more money than they’ve likely seen in their lives,” Sicarius said.

“You think they’d steal everything? And strand us?”

“Many would.”

“They’re better men than that.”

Sicarius gave her a long look over his shoulder. Most people would have tripped over a root if they lifted their eyes from the trail that long, but no mischievous tree protuberances dared tangle his toes.

“You trust too easily,” he said.

“Even if they aren’t better men than that, they’d be afraid to cross you. Fear motivates people into good behavior.” Though it was not a tactic she preferred to use, she understood its effectiveness.

“We’ll see.”

The rush of the river grew audible. Amaranthe’s stomach grumbled in anticipation of boiling water for tea and having a meal. Sicarius had pushed her to leave before eating.

“I hope Basilard has breakfast waiting.” She sniffed the air, hoping to catch a whiff of eggs cooking. “It’s amazing what he finds in the forest when he goes foraging. I wouldn’t have a clue about what’s edible and what’s not. He’s a good man. I have faith in him."

Sicarius glanced back. She expected a comment about how hard it was to monitor their surroundings with her prattling, or perhaps a suggestion that she should be trying to figure out the greater puzzle they were involved with. Instead, he said, “I can forage.”

She almost laughed. Maybe her praise for Basilard had made him envious? “Oh? I’ve not seen you do it.”

“It’s not the right season. Summer and fall.”

“What about those tuberous things Basilard found by the side of the road the other night? And mixed with the sausages? They were good. Nice crunch.”

The next glance Sicarius leveled her direction was more of a glare. She decided not to push his humor with further teasing.

The frothing river water grew visible through the trees. The suspension bridge came into sight, and, on the far side, the lorry waited where they left it. Amaranthe resisted the urge to throw a triumphant, “I told you so,” at Sicarius. Team leaders were probably supposed to be more mature than that.

No camp fire burned, and no eggs waited. As Amaranthe and Sicarius crossed the bridge, she expected the men to come out and greet them—or berate her for leaving them to the elements—but nothing moved. Basilard and Akstyr must have been miserable during the storm and found shelter elsewhere.