“Training with Sicarius?” Sespian lifted his eyebrows.
“Sure, fencing, sparring, calisthenics, running obstacle courses.” A thought occurred to Maldynado. “You didn’t think I meant anything… venereal, did you? There’s nothing like that going on between them.” He glanced back at the others. “There’s not, right?”
To Maldynado’s surprise, Sespian glanced back too.
Books opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Basilard pointed at the road ahead. No, at the bridge, which had come into view, though it remained a mile or so away. A wagon sat atop it, and there seemed to be a knot of people around it.
Maldynado squinted. “Anyone have a spyglass?”
“We lost most of our gear along with the dirigible,” Books said.
They’re soldiers, Basilard signed. They’re stopping people.
Maldynado was about to translate for the emperor, but he was looking at the bridge, too, and he’d slowed his pace.
“Soldiers,” Sespian said.
“You have good eyes, Sire,” Maldynado said.
“For a bookly sort?”
“Er, yes. Do you… want to be seen by soldiers?” Maldynado hoped not-what good could he and the team do if Sespian could simply walk up and fetch a team of grunts to follow him around and keep him safe?
“Not particularly,” Sespian said. “I don’t have any way to know which ones are-” He caught himself with a frown, and repeated, “not particularly.”
Maldynado had no trouble seeing through the gap. Sespian couldn’t be sure who might be loyal to Ravido.
“Is there another way across?” Sespian asked. “The place where I arranged to have funds stashed is south of downtown, on the other side of the bridge.”
Good, Maldynado thought. “Not for many miles. My costume idea might be necessary, after all.” Technically, they could filch a boat, but if soldiers were guarding the bridge, they’d be watching the docks too.
Sespian sighed, as if whatever plan he’d meant to pursue had been dashed to the ground, and he was being forced to pluck a new one from a barrel full of rotten apples. “Do you think you can get past the soldiers without attracting notice?” he asked.
“That’s asking a lot of Lord Flamboyantcrest, isn’t it?” Sergeant Yara asked. Thanks to the slower pace, she’d caught up and joined the conversation. Wonderful.
“So long as the soldiers aren’t female, I’m sure they won’t look twice at me,” Maldynado said. “You can all camp out in one of the parks on this side of the river. I’ll go on my own, so you needn’t risk yourself on my noticeableness.”
“Noticeability,” Books corrected.
“That too.”
Books muttered a comment that included the word sashay, but Maldynado didn’t pay attention. Sespian was scrutinizing him. His gaze had a weight to it that made him seem more formidable than his age and size suggested. Maybe it was simply the fact that he could order Maldynado beheaded with a wave of his hand. Even soldiers loyal to Ravido would have no qualms about complying with that order. Maldynado was an outlaw with a bounty on his head, after all.
“Very well,” Sespian said.
Maldynado blinked. Distracted by the idea of axe-toting soldiers chasing him, he’d momentarily forgotten his proposition. “You’ll wait while I go in? And get you a disguise? Do you want me to collect your belongings too? If your business is elsewhere, maybe there’s no need for you to go into town at all.”
“I’ll fetch them myself,” Sespian said, his tone cool.
Maldynado winced. He’d sounded too eager. If the emperor’s “belongings” included the hundred thousand ranmyas he’d promised the team, he might think Maldynado wanted to make off with it. As if Maldynado needed to steal when he could find female patrons to finance his desires. But Sespian had no way to know that yet.
“Whatever you wish,” was all that Maldynado said-an indignant proclamation about his trustworthiness would sound suspicious. “Does anyone else want a costume?” He propped his fists on his hips and eyed each of his teammates. “Never mind. You all look like you’ve been wrestling in a particularly muddy pigsty. I’ll bring everyone clothing.”
“Gee,” Yara said, “a chance to be dressed by a fop who thinks a blue-dyed fur cap is stylish.”
“Do you have any money?” Books asked.
Maldynado fished in his pockets and came up with a quarter-ranmya coin. He displayed it for the team and winked. “Far more than I’ll need. You’ll see.”
“Good.” Books plucked the coin from Maldynado’s fingers. “I need a recent newspaper. Who knows what chaos has ensued in the days we’ve been out of the capital?”
Maldynado’s shoulders slumped. The last person he wanted to go shopping with was Books. He could take the joy out of anything.
“Actually,” Sespian said, “I’d prefer it if you stayed and talked with me, Professor Mugdildor. I have a few questions on finances and economics, and I believe you may be able to help.”
“Oh, no.” Maldynado lifted a hand. “You’re new around here, Sire, so nobody’s told you, but you do not want to ask Books for a lecture. You don’t even want to ask a question that might lead to a lecture. It’s bad for your health. And the wakefulness of those around you.”
Maldynado smiled, expecting a chuckle from his warning, but only Akstyr smirked. Books scowled at him-nothing unusual there-and Sespian’s lips turned downward too.
Basilard waved for attention and signed, The soldiers may have spyglasses and wonder why a group of men are dallying by the side of the road.
“Yes, yes,” Maldynado said, “I’ll go do my task. Where will you be waiting?”
“Crow Landing,” Sespian said. “Take Sergeant Yara with you.”
Speaking of taking the joy out of things…
Yara frowned, but she squashed whatever objection might have leapt to her tongue, and bowed toward Sespian. “Of course, Sire. I’ll watch him.”
“ Watch him?” Maldynado asked. When had he become someone who needed watching? He’d been one of the first people Amaranthe recruited for the team, and he’d never failed to follow orders. Not like Akstyr. He could understand Sespian questioning his loyalty, but Yara? She wasn’t even officially on the team. Maldynado looked to Books and Basilard for support.
Books cleared his throat and avoided Maldynado’s eyes as he said, “I have voiced a concern over the fact that you went out of your way to arrange that dirigible for our transport, a dirigible that came with spies and a pilot who was happy to see us dead.”
Maldynado gawked at him. Books was accusing him of betraying the team? And he’d already voiced the concern? In front of the emperor? It took a gargantuan effort for Maldynado to keep his fingers from clenching into fists, fists that could launch themselves into Books’s nose. Didn’t he know what a tenuous line Maldynado already walked, thanks to his family’s plotting? “You think I had something to do with that?”
“You were quite insistent on Lady Buckingcrest,” Books said.
“Because we needed to fly for the boss’s scheme. Lady Buckingcrest the only person I knew who could make that happen.”
“Amaranthe did not request flight,” Books said. “No sane person would. In fact, we had a lorry at our disposal that would have worked fine.”
Maldynado wanted to argue. He wanted to explain that the main reason he’d been desperate to keep his distance from Amaranthe that night was because she’d had the look of a hound on the trail of a raccoon. She’d wanted to chat privately with him so she could finagle information on his brother out of him. But if he said so now, everyone would think he had a sly reason for not wanting to talk about Ravido. He hated his cursed brother, that was all, and talking about family history was painful. Why didn’t anyone get that?
Maldynado looked to Akstyr and Basilard. He couldn’t believe the entire team was suddenly suspicious of him. After all this time together? After so many battles fought and so many near-deaths?
Akstyr looked… indifferent to the conversation, or maybe tired. Either way, he wasn’t patting Maldynado on the back in a gesture of support.