“They’ll all over the place,” Akstyr saidwhen the men had passed, “and as annoying as flies on dung.”
Perhaps it’s because Sicarius wassupposedly spotted this morning, Basilard signed, seeing achance to bring up the topic he wanted to discuss.
“I guess,” Akstyr said. Unless one wastalking about the mental sciences, he was a hard man to draw into aconversation.
Basilard tried again. I wonder why thatman impersonated Sicarius. Especially when it only got himkilled.
“Because he was stupid,” Akstyr said.
Someone paid him perhaps.
“Not enough.”
Yes, even if the enforcers did not kill him,Sicarius himself might have…for having the audacity toimpersonate him.
“Probably.”
Basilard gritted his teeth. With theconversation going nowhere, he decided to drop it, but then Akstyrgave him a lead-in.
“I hate him sometimes.”
Sicarius?
They stepped into the shadows behind a foodtent to avoid more enforcers.
“Sometimes he kind of seems all right,”Akstyr said. “Like he stood up for me once when we went to see myold boss, but I think that was on account of Am’ranthe and notbecause he cares if I live or die.”
Likely, Basilard signed, but he didnot know if Akstyr could see his hand codes in the gloaminglight.
“But I hate when he climbs all over our backsjust because we aren’t good enough at his dumb exercises. I want tobe-” Akstyr caught himself and lowered his voice. “Well, you knowwhat I want to be. I don’t care about running and swords andobstacle courses. You can’t object though or he threatens you. He’ssuch as cold bastard.”
Basilard drew Akstyr around the side of thetent where there was more light. Raised fire pits illuminatedtables and benches where men and women chatted over tea andcider.
He lifted his hands to sign the nextquestion. A bead of sweat dribbled down his spine. Do you everthink of…collecting his bounty?
“Oh, dead deranged ancestors, yes.” Akstyrlaughed. “Don’t you?”
The blatant admission surprised Basilard, andhis fingers hung still for a moment before he could sign aresponse. Maybe.
“Bas, you don’t know how bad I want to getout of this balls-sucking sinkhole of an empire. I’m tired ofhaving to hide all my…interests, and I can’t find anyone to teachme, and people here would shoot you just for-” Akstyr’s voicetightened, and he cleared his throat.
Basilard had not realized how passionate theboy was about learning the mental sciences.
“If I had a million ranmyas,” Akstyr said,naming the price on Sicarius’s head, “I could get out of here. Icould go to Kendor or the Kyatt Islands and hire a teacher, andnobody would care ‘cause it’s normal there.”
Basilard nodded. Though money would donothing for his predicament, it made sense to encourage Akstyr’sfantasy if he wanted him for an ally.
“But it’d be a dumb move,” Akstyr said. “He’dkill you in a heartbeat if he thought you were serious about it.And how would you get him anyway? He never sleeps, and he won’t eatanything we cook unless he’s seen everyone else eat it first.”
Yes, Basilard had already considered the factthat he prepared more meals for the group than anyone else. He knewof numerous herbs that could incapacitate or even kill. ButSicarius never ate his stews or soups, nor did he drink anythingbesides water. Basilard was not sure if it represented paranoia orsimply dietary preferences. He’d never seen Sicarius eat anythingexcept fruits, vegetables, nuts, and plainly prepared fish or meat.Basilard thought he might try something Amaranthe offered,but his stomach turned at the idea of using her to get to him. Itwould devastate her to be the instrument of his death, and Basilarddid not want to hurt her.
One would have to be extremelycareful, Basilard signed. Perhaps there’ssome…magic?
Akstyr’s forehead furrowed. He glancedaround-three times-then lowered his voice. “Are you actuallythinking of doing this?”
Maybe.
“What’d he do to you? I thought you got alongwith him better than anyone except Am’ranthe.”
Basilard debated whether or not to share hisreason. Akstyr would care nothing about the deaths of theMangdorian royal family-he probably wouldn’t even be outraged atthe idea that Sicarius had killed children-but he might understandwhy Basilard would be committed and trust him not to back out orcross him.
Remember that note in the Mangdorian shaman’shideout?
“Yes,” Akstyr said.
I recently learned that fifteen years ago,Sicarius was the one responsible for the assassination of myrulers.
“Oh. Huh.” Akstyr stuffed his hands into hisdeep pockets and prodded a tuft of grass with his boot. “If I founda way to make him sleep, would you do the deed?”
Yes.
“And I’d get half the money?”
You can have it all.
Akstyr’s eyes bulged. “Really?”
Yes.
“Well, maybe we could look into things alittle. You gotta swear not to say anything to anyone though.Maldynado and Books wouldn’t get on this locomotive.”
Agreed. You make same promise?
“Oh, I’m not saying a word.”
As they left the side of the tent and thetables full of happily chattering people, Basilard wondered if hehad taken the first step down a path that would result in hisdeath. The idea of death terrified him, especially since thatpriestess had confirmed he had no chance of avoiding eternity inEthor, but shouldn’t he at least go out striking a blow of justicefor his people?
Amaranthe nibbled on a fingernail. She hid inthe shadows behind a street vendor’s cart while she waited forMaldynado. Almost a half an hour had passed since he disappearedinto the busy market. She needed to get back before the Mancrestsleft the Gazette building.
Though twilight had settled in, the throng ofshoppers had yet to wane. Gas lamps shone light onto the vegetablestands, smoked meat carts, and tables displaying candles, soaps,and flower bundles. Across the street from Amaranthe, a man andwoman were selling freshly roasted walnuts and almonds doused incinnamon and sugar. Her mouth watered, reminding her it had been along time since breakfast.
Maldynado ambled into view with bulgingcanvas bags draped over both arms.
Amaranthe stared at the sizable haul. “Youwere just supposed to get flatbread and cheese,” she said when hejoined her. “Maybe a cheap jug of applejack.”
“You do not know how to prepare aromantic dinner.” He poked through his bags. “I got you red wine,Anduvian rolls, quiche, fresh herbs and greens, carrots, parsnips,cider vinegar, and walnut oil-you can make a lovely salad. Oh, andcedar-wood scented candles. Those promote stamina.” He wiggled hisbrows.
“First off, I’m not romancing the man. Hetried to turn me over to the army tonight. Second, how did you getall that? I only gave you five ranmyas.”
“That’s right, you did.” Maldynado rearrangedthe bags, fished in a pocket, and pulled out a five-ranmya bill.“Here’s your change. I got it all for free. Samples, you see, onaccount of the lavish spread my mother is planning. If she likeswhat she tries, she’ll put in a huge order for her annual summertea party.”
“This is the mother who hasn’t spoken to youin a year?” Amaranthe asked.
“Closer to two.” Maldynado winked and startedloading bags onto her arms, but paused midway through. “Maybe Ishould go with you and help set things up. You’re a capable womanin general, but I’m not convinced you have the necessary experienceto seduce a man.”
“I’m not seducing anyone.” She tookthe remaining bags from him. “I’m just trying to talk him intolistening to my story and publishing the truth about ouradventures.”