“This way,” Yara barked from somewhere ahead.
Basilard appeared by Maldynado’s side and hoisted Books over his shoulder. Maldynado maneuvered Akstyr into position over his own shoulder. They hustled to reach the others.
Shouts came from the park entrance. Dark figures poured out of two lorries and ran toward the mill. They carried rifles and pistols, not crossbows, and they were closing ground quickly. Books and Akstyr hadn’t stirred yet. As fit as Maldynado and Basilard were, it was unlikely they could outrun trained soldiers while carrying the weight of full grown men over their shoulders. They needed…
“I have an idea for a distraction,” Maldynado whispered just loud enough to be heard over the crackling fire that had engulfed the mill. “Yara or, uhm, Sire… ” Was it unseemly to ask the Turgonian emperor to tote one’s comrade on his back? No time to worry about it. “Can you carry Akstyr? I’ll-”
As one, Sespian and Yara grabbed Akstyr. Maldynado waved toward the neighborhood on the far side of the park. “Head that way. I’ll catch up with you.”
Gravel crunched. The newcomers, at least a dozen of them, were surrounding the burning mill. They didn’t seem to realize that Maldynado had made it out of the building. With all the light the fire threw off, they would soon.
After Basilard and the others moved a ways into the darkness, Maldynado sprinted toward the river. He thrashed through the foliage, making as much noise as he could. A rifle fired, and he dove to the earth, rolling to gain ground as he went. More shots fired over his head, but the branches stabbing him as he careened past were more painful. As soon as his momentum faded, he found his belly and low-crawled toward the river at top speed.
Though damp leaves slapped at Maldynado’s face, and roots sought to entangle his arms and legs, he made it to the beach without slowing-or being shot. The rifles had stopped, but snaps and rustlings in the brush behind him promised pursuit. That was good… so long as he had time to put his plan into action before they caught up with him. Unfortunately, the men, running instead of crawling, were gaining ground quickly. Lanterns rattled and banged as people tore down the trail to the beach.
Maldynado veered toward the campfire. Only a couple of dull red embers still glowed, not enough to illuminate the beach. Good.
Maldynado found the body of the man he’d stopped with the knife throw. He dragged it to the edge of the water, then risked rising to his knees to gain leverage. Careful not to grunt or make a sound himself, he hefted the body with both arms and hurled it as far as he could.
It landed with a noisy splash that ought to be audible for dozens of meters in each direction. Maldynado grabbed a few sizable branches from the woodpile by the fire pit and tossed those in too.
“There!” one of his pursuers shouted. “They’re trying to swim away.”
Yes, keep believing that, Maldynado thought as he crawled back toward the foliage. Doing his best to emulate a snake, he shimmied into the weeds even as the riflemen stormed onto the beach. Pebbles clattered and flew under the barrage of boots.
Maldynado’s first instinct was to crawl straight toward the far side of the park, in the direction he’d sent the others, but he remembered his shopping bags. They lay discarded by the path where he and Yara had come across the first body. He stifled a groan. To leave empty-handed, without the emperor’s disguise or any of the clothes he’d bargained for, clothes he’d desperately need when dawn showed him just how many new grass-and dirt-stains plagued his current attire…
Maldynado kept crawling away from the river, but lifted his head, trying to gauge where he’d left those bags. It wasn’t far from the park entrance and the lorries. The darkness made it difficult to tell for certain, but he didn’t think that more than one or two people stood guard over there. The rest were stomping around the beach, calling, “Can you see them?” and “Are you sure they went in?”
A new plan formed in Maldynado’s mind, one of which he believed Amaranthe would approve. Still crawling, except where the foliage rose high enough to hide him as he darted forward in a running crouch, he angled toward the bags and the lorries. This wasn’t an unnecessary risk, he told himself. It wasn’t just for clothing. The others might need more time to escape. They were carrying two inert bodies, after all.
“Yes, give that excuse to Books when he’s bailing you out of jail,” Maldynado whispered to himself. “Or, more likely, lighting your funeral pyre.” The sobering thoughts couldn’t quite squelch the grin on his lips at the idea of his plan.
Maldynado reached his shopping bags. They’d been kicked into the foliage with a footprint mashing one.
“No respect for fashion around here,” he whispered and, taking the bags with him, continued onward.
As Maldynado drew close to the lorries, he stayed lower than ever to avoid the notice of a guard stationed between them. When he circled around the back, he noticed the newness of the vehicles. He would have recognized military vehicles, but these were civilian models. Forge-owned toys?
Maldynado set his bags down and slipped between the two vehicles, hoping to sneak up behind the guard.
The shouts by the river had stilled. He hoped the men hadn’t figured out his ruse.
Knowing he might not have much time, Maldynado lunged straight for the guard without checking to see if he had a friend in one of the cabs or on the far side. He took the fellow by surprise, wrapping an arm lock around his neck. Even as he cut off the man’s airway, Maldynado forced him to the ground to steal his leverage.
A click sounded-a door opening.
“Emperor’s balls,” Maldynado cursed.
His plan to subtly take down the man by denying him air turned into slamming the bloke’s head into the nearest lorry door. It clunked with satisfying solidity. He duplicated the move to ensure its effectiveness, then spun as a second dark figure launched a kick at his head.
Maldynado dropped into a butt-scraping squat in front of the man, just evading the attack. With both hands, he caught the fellow’s calf before the foot could return to the ground. He leaped up, hoisting the leg over his head. The man pitched over backward.
Maldynado scrambled onto his foe and pummeled him into the ground. Amaranthe would choose tying people over beating them into a stupor, he admitted, but he didn’t have time. So long as they were too battered to move for a few minutes…
When Maldynado stood, neither man did more than moan and curl into a ball. Good.
After a quick glance toward the river-lanterns still moved about on the beach-Maldynado climbed into the cab of the far lorry. He yanked open the furnace door for light and located the safety valve. He grabbed the coal shovel, flipped it, and used the handle to break the gauge. The loudness of the cracking glass made him wince, but he doubted he had time for a quieter tactic. He shoveled heaps of coal into the furnace.
“Oskat, what’re you doing?” came a shout from the beach.
Uh oh. Maldynado hustled out of the cab of the sabotaged lorry, grabbed his bags, and climbed into the other vehicle. Whistling a little tune, he threw a control lever into reverse. The lorry belched smoke and rumbled backward.
“Oskat!”
“Hurry, they’re stealing our lorries!”
By the time the men were racing back up the trail, Maldynado had the vehicle turned around and was rolling into the street beyond the park. Houses lined the curving avenues, so he resisted the urge to thrust the control lever to maximum speed. Besides, he didn’t think he’d need to worry about pursuit. That second lorry shouldn’t go far before the overburdened boiler became inoperable. Or airborne. One of the two.
Though Maldynado had only a vague recollection of the neighborhood, he took a few turns and found a route around the park. The shouts faded from hearing. As the lorry rumbled down a broad avenue lined with cedar-shingled houses, he was wondering how he would find the others when he spotted a shadow near the side of a corner market that had closed for the day. Yara?