Blood and Betrayal ee-5 Page 2

  “Or maybe it’s going to torch the entire wetlands to ensure we’re all dead.”

  “Cheery thought.” Maldynado said. Maybe Sespian knew Forge didn’t want him “back” after all.

  A tree snapped. Branches broke, and leaves rattled as it fell, landing with a noisy splash. Maldynado gripped the mossy bark of his own tree and leaned out, trying to keep his body hidden as he observed the craft.

  Still hovering, the floating dome crowded the shoreline. Trees standing next to it appeared as thin and frail as toothpicks. Its convex top rose higher than their canopies. Nothing on the flat black bottom of the craft caused ripples in the water below, nor did the leaves in the trees near it stir, so Maldynado couldn’t imagine how it flew or stayed in the air. It did drift from side to side as it hovered, occasionally bumping those “toothpicks,” causing them to crash to the ground as if they were rootless dowels capable of being knocked over in the faintest breeze.

  Maldynado expected the craft to tire of waiting and to send some of those deadly beams out to raze the entire forest, leaving nothing but a smoking crater. But, after hovering for several more moments, it floated upward. Once above the canopy, it headed south.

  Long before Maldynado thought crawling out of hiding would be wise, Sicarius darted past him. He leaped ten feet into the air, caught the side of a stout pine, and scrambled up the trunk. He skimmed upward, zipping around branches like a squirrel before disappearing from view.

  “That man is exceedingly odd,” Sespian observed.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” Maldynado said.

  “Why does Corporal Lokdon employ him?” Sespian asked lightly, as if he were simply making conversation and the answer didn’t matter, but intensity sharpened his brown eyes.

  “He can thump everyone else into pawpaw pulp, and he does what the boss asks.” As soon as Maldynado said that, he thought of Sicarius’s recent string of assassinations and grimaced. “Most of the time anyway.” That might not be all that accurate either. “Often enough that she finds him useful,” he amended.

  “Hm. And I suppose she must find you useful too.” Sespian raised his eyebrows.

  Maldynado vowed to be careful what he said. If his brother, Ravido, truly planned to usurp the throne, Maldynado might be presumed guilty by lieu of having the same parents. “Oh, I’m all sorts of useful.” He touched his chest and offered his most disarming smile-it worked wonders on women, though a nineteen-year-old emperor might be less enamored. “I’m tolerable good at thumping folks, too, and I can get great deals from the many female clerks and businesswomen in Stumps.”

  Sespian mulled that over for a moment before saying, “You’re the group shopper?”

  “Technically, yes, but don’t forget the thumping part.” Maldynado lifted an arm and flexed his biceps.

  Sespian’s measuring gaze remained on him long enough that Maldynado started to feel silly holding his arm aloft. He lowered it, but kept the affable smile. He didn’t have anything to hide, but he’d prefer it if the emperor saw him as a simple man, the sort who couldn’t string together a coup if he wanted to. Or maybe the sort who, even if he could string together a coup, couldn’t be bothered to make the effort. Nobody worried about men like that.

  Sicarius dropped out of the tree, bending his knees to soften the landing. “Books.”

  Foliage stirred somewhere behind Maldynado, and boots crunched through the twigs and dead leaves. Grumbling accompanied the footsteps, something about, “being summoned like a hound.”

  When Books stopped in front of him, Sicarius dropped a compass into one pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out of another. Curious, Maldynado wriggled out of his nook. With the dirigible nothing more than a memory, it seemed unlikely the enemy craft would return.

  “I need a pen,” Sicarius told Books.

  Annoyance flickered across Books’s weathered face. “You think gathering writing utensils was my first priority after that brawny toad-” Books pointed at Maldynado, “-crashed us? I was hurrying to get out before the engine exploded, something I assumed would happen given that Maldynado had been flying. I didn’t even have a chance to grab my sword.”

  “Come now, Booksie,” Maldynado said, “we all know you could be set upon by a platoon of Nurian soldiers and you’d always grab writing utensils first. You can only fight one man at a time with a sword, but, with a pen, you can compose a lecture to bore legions of enemy troops to death.”

  Books glared at him. Sicarius held out his hand.

  Sighing, Books pulled out his journal and unclipped a pen. The journal was the compact, leather-bound one that had disappeared the day before the team left the capital. Maldynado hadn’t realized he’d gotten it back.

  Sicarius took the pen, unfolded his paper, and laid it on the ground. It was a map of the satrapy. Sicarius marked a couple of topographical features, scribbled coordinates under them, then started drawing lines. Maldynado scratched his head.

  By now, the others had gathered around. Books and Basilard were nodding as they watched, and, after a moment, Sespian seemed to get it too. Akstyr and Yara didn’t show any signs of enlightenment, but they didn’t seem to care either.

  “What are you working on?” Maldynado asked. “I ask because the boss could be out there, bleeding to death somewhere, and unless this is going to help us find her, I think it should wait.” He gazed out toward the lake. At least a half hour must have passed since Amaranthe fell out and the dirigible crashed. If she were able, she should have joined them by now, or at least signaled.

  Sicarius was using the back of a knife to draw a straight line down the center of the map, and he didn’t respond. Maldynado huffed in exasperation. He was tempted to take charge and divide up the group for a search, but he didn’t know if anyone would listen to him.

  Sicarius circled two towns alongside the line he’d drawn.

  He saw which way the craft flew away, Basilard signed. I think he’s trying to figure out where it might be going from the bearing.

  “Yes,” Books said, “though we have no guarantee that it’s flying in a straight line in the direction it departed. Or that it’s heading to a destination within the satrapy.”

  Maldynado stamped his feet. “Does nobody else care that the boss might be dead or dying somewhere and need our help?”

  Basilard frowned at him.

  “We all care,” Books said.

  “Then why aren’t we-”

  Sicarius stood, the movement abrupt enough that Maldynado stepped back and shut his mouth.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Sicarius said.

  Maldynado frowned. “You want to wait fifteen minutes to search?” He shook his head and started to say more, but Sicarius spoke again.

  “Fifteen minutes passed between when the craft shot us down and when it came to check on us.” Sicarius pocketed the map. “We’ll split up and circle the lake to check for her anyway.”

  Realization dawned on Maldynado. “You think they got her during that time?”

  “Books, Basilard, Akstyr, and Yara, go east around the lake,” Sicarius said. “The emperor, Maldynado, and I will go west until we meet.”

  Maldynado bristled at having Sicarius give orders-this wasn’t an exercise session, after all-but they could vote on who the ersatz leader would be later. Besides, he was sending Yara and Books, the two people most likely to heckle Maldynado, off in the other group.

  Everyone else must have also decided this wasn’t the time for arguing with Sicarius, for they trooped off in the indicated directions without a word, though Sespian did pause to gaze to the east. He had an urgent reason to reach Sunders City, Maldynado recalled. But, when Maldynado jogged after Sicarius, Sespian fell in behind them, apparently willing to help look for Amaranthe first.

  Good kid, Maldynado decided. At least that’s what he thought until Sespian started peppering him with questions about his family.

  They had scarcely started down a muddy trail weaving through ferns and trees on its way to the lake
when Sespian asked, “How do you get along with your brother, Maldynado?”

  “I assume you mean Ravido, though I don’t get along with any of my siblings, Sire.”

  “Yes. Have you communicated with him lately?”

  “I haven’t communicated with anyone in the family since the old man disowned me over a year ago.”

  Sespian ducked a branch stretching over the path. “Would you admit it to me if you were in regular contact with your family or… with anyone else?”

  Anyone else? What “anyone else” was out there that the emperor thought Maldynado might contact? “I imagine not, Sire. But, given that some of my family members are apparently up to seditious activities, it wouldn’t behoove me to be in contact with them.” Behoove? Had he actually said behoove? Wandering around with Books was having a tedious affect on his vocabulary. The rest of the words sounded stilted too. He hated having to be careful about what he said. If Ravido got anywhere near the throne in the Imperial Barracks, Maldynado hoped he tripped over it.

  “You’re honest about that much at least.”

  Maldynado was honest about everything. Occasionally he might exaggerate when it came to exploits involving women, but that was natural. “Uh, yes. Does colluding against the throne still carry a death penalty?”

  “I believe so. Though… if you had been colluding and were to decide that helping me is a better option, we could waive any head-removal penalties.”

  “I’m not colluding, Sire.” They’d reached the lake, and Maldynado shielded his eyes with his hand to exaggerate the fact that he was searching for Amaranthe. Maybe Sespian would notice and decide question-asking time could wait until later.

  “I wonder if Ravido always had an interesting in ruling,” Sespian said.

  Maldynado managed to keep his sigh soft.

  “Back when you did have regular contact with him, did he talk of the family’s glory days? Of when the Marblecrests used to rule?”

  “Sire, he’s more than twenty years older than me. I never knew him well.” Maldynado wished Sicarius had split him off into the other group, heckling notwithstanding. Or that the emperor would ask him some questions. Not that Sicarius would answer. Maldynado didn’t think he could get away with that. Silence could condemn him.

  Sespian climbed on top of a log on the path and paused before stepping down. “Am I premature in asking questions?”

  “What?”

  “Corporal Lokdon suggested I have a few drinks with you before discussing family matters. Unfortunately, this swamp is lacking in purveyors of alcoholic beverages.”

  Maldynado, climbing over the log himself, almost fell into the ferns on the side. “ Amaranthe suggested you question me?”

  “She assured me you weren’t conspiring with your brother and said you might be a source of information on him and any other friends or family members who are assisting him with his dubious goals.”

  “Oh.” It stung that Amaranthe had suggested Maldynado might betray family members, but he supposed she’d been watching out for his backside. The next time the group wandered past enforcers or soldiers, the emperor could order him killed with a wave of the hand. “I don’t know what Ravido is up to, Sire. Has he already passed the point of no return?” Maldynado thought of the weapons delivery outside of Fort Urgot. His brother might be in the incipient stage of an uprising, but if blood had not yet been shed… “Or is it possible he might be talked into giving up his wayward plans?”

  “I’m behind on events, thanks to being ushered all over the empire to inspect military installations, but the last I heard, he hadn’t killed anyone. It’s possible banishment would be punishment enough. But… if he’s put things into play while I’ve been gone, then the law and hundreds of years of imperial precedent would demand his death, yes.” Sespian frowned, perhaps not liking the idea of killing Ravido, or killing people in general.

  Ahead of them, Sicarius had disappeared around a bend, and Maldynado nodded that they had better hurry up. He could use the short jog to give himself a moment to respond as well.

  Distracted, he misjudged a step and his boot caught on a root. He recovered his balance, but not without cracking his elbow against a sapling. Another bruise for the collection. What a day. “Yes, Sire, drinks would have been appropriate before asking me to share information that could result in my brother’s death.”

  Sicarius looked back at Maldynado with an extra dose of coldness in his hard eyes. That surprised Maldynado. Why would Sicarius care one way or another about Ravido’s doings?

  “So,” Sespian said, “though you don’t particularly like your family, you’re not willing to betray them.” He seemed to be mulling the fact over, rather than judging Maldynado for the choice.

  Maldynado pushed a hand through his hair, tucking a few loose curls behind his ears. “I don’t want to be flushed down the wash-out with them, but I’m not ready to volunteer to be the trap that ensnares the bear for the hunter either. I’m already… I already betrayed the family once. If I did that to my mother again, she’d wring my neck herself.”

  “I see,” Sespian said as they continued along the path. Softly, perhaps more to himself, he added, “Loyalty may be an admirable trait in men, but I do wish more of them would direct it in my direction.”

  With Forge scampering around the capital, infiltrating the Imperial Barracks, Sespian must have trouble knowing whom he could trust. Maldynado felt for the kid and wanted to help, but-

  He stopped a hair shy of crashing into Sicarius.

  Sicarius had stopped to face the emperor. Though it was always hard to tell with him, he looked like he had something to say. He glanced at Maldynado, didn’t utter a word, then strode ahead several paces where he knelt to examine the ground.

  Sespian’s forehead crinkled. Maldynado gave him a shrug. He couldn’t explain Sicarius either.

  “Fresh tracks.” Sicarius stepped off the trail they’d been following around the lake, touched the broken tip of a thin branch, and veered into the foliage on a short peninsula.

  Maldynado pushed past ferns to follow him, wondering how Sicarius managed to move through the same vegetation as he did, but without making a sound. After he ducked a branch growing a mossy beard so long it’d make the hairiest old men in the Veterans’ Quarter jealous, the water came into sight again. Sicarius had stopped on a muddy bank at the end of the peninsula. Maldynado didn’t need to be a tracker to spot all the prints. Many different sizes and styles of boots were represented. If Amaranthe had come ashore here…

  Sicarius knelt and touched the ground. He brought a finger to his nose.

  “Blood?” Maldynado asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Amaranthe’s?” It was a dumb question-people’s blood didn’t have an identifying smell, did it? — but Maldynado somehow hoped that asking would lead Sicarius to say, “No, she’s fine. This belonged to the bloke she punched in the nose.” It was an unwarranted hope though. Maldynado would bet on Amaranthe in a one-on-one match-up against almost anybody-even if she wasn’t stronger or faster than her foe, she’d scheme up some plan to defeat him-but against the ten or twelve people responsible for these footprints?

  “Likely,” was all Sicarius said.

  He touched one of the footprints. From where he stood, Maldynado didn’t see anything special about it, but Sicarius grew still. “Major Pike was here.”

  Maldynado put a hand on the nearest tree for support. “The Major Pike you described as Emperor Raumesys’s master interrogator?”

  “Yes.”

  A twig snapped as Sespian pushed his way out of the foliage behind Maldynado. He took in the scene with a grim set to his mouth.

  “They must have seen her fall.” Sicarius pointed to a mark near the water. “When she came ashore there, Pike was waiting.”

  “She came ashore, as in her broken, battered body floated up to the bank, or she walked ashore?” Maldynado asked.

  Sicarius strode back into the underbrush, quickly disappearing from
view.

  “Oh, no,” Maldynado said, “no need to answer our questions. We’re just speaking to give the wildlife something to listen to.”

  A crow squawked on the other side of the trail.

  “Yes, like that.”

  Sespian hadn’t said a word, and he didn’t react to Maldynado’s sarcasm. His eyes were cast downward, toward the trampled mud where Sicarius had found the blood. Maybe he felt partially responsible for Amaranthe’s predicament. Did emperors have the capacity to worry about commoners? Not a lot of Maldynado’s own warrior-caste brethren did, but Sespian seemed a sensitive sort. Too sensitive maybe. If he had the brawny assertive mien of his predecessor, Emperor Raumesys, he might not have so many people picking on him as someone easy to remove or shunt aside.

  “We’d better go after him.” Maldynado pushed into the foliage, figuring he’d lose track of Sicarius if he didn’t follow immediately. As it was, he reached the trail and didn’t see anyone. He searched for fresh boot prints, but the ground was harder packed there, and he couldn’t decide which way the kidnappers had gone. He listened for a rustle of leaves or snapping of twigs that would announce Sicarius’s passage, but of course that never came. Near the water’s edge, a frog started croaking, but nothing stirred in the underbrush.

  Sespian, making less noise than Maldynado would have expected, stepped back onto the trail. “Which way?” he asked.

  Uhm. Maldynado pointed into the woods opposite of the peninsula and headed in that direction. If Sicarius had stuck to the path, Maldynado should have seen him. Besides, he didn’t want to appear clueless in front of the emperor.

  Maldynado pushed through dense, tangled undergrowth for several minutes and was about to confess that he’d been guessing when the crow cawed again. Complaining about assassins passing nearby? He angled toward the call.

  Up ahead, the trees thinned. Afraid he’d simply walked in a circle and returned to the lake, Maldynado almost turned around, but curiosity or perhaps intuition prompted him to continue.

  Between one step and the next, the trees ended. Maldynado found himself squinting into autumn sunlight slanting down from a swath of open blue sky. A huge circular expanse stretched before him with all the trees, bushes, grass, and moss cleared. No, not cleared, he realized as he walked off an edge, almost tripping because of a height difference from one step to the next. The entire circle, easily hundreds of meters in diameter, was a foot lower than the surrounding earth. The foliage hadn’t been cleared; it’d been smashed. Compacted beneath a weight so great, even stout trees had crumpled beneath it, their trunks flattened into the ground.