“Sicarius, we know you’re out there!” heshouted.
Amaranthe tripped and almost fell over.
“I, Erton Garthcrest, challenge you,” the manwent on. “If you’re half the man the rumors say, come and prove it.Enter the wrestling and see if you’re my match!” He finished bythumping his fist against his muscled chest, which was so puffedout that he looked like he could tip over backward and fall off thebench at any moment.
The bystanders cheered at the short speech.Amaranthe wanted to go around and into the stadium, but the cheerswent on. “More,” someone hollered, “Bring out Sicarius,” and thatstarted a chant of, “Sicarius, Sicarius.” This drew more people tothe scene.
The entire episode had an orchestrated feelto it, and Amaranthe thought about creeping closer to see if shecould identify the ringleader in the crowd, but several enforcerstrotted out of the stadium and headed for the group.
Amaranthe eased off the path. With theenforcers extra alert to trouble, this wasn’t the time for her toroam about inside.
She headed for the shrubs where she had lastseen Sicarius, but did not find him. She continued on toward thegreenbelt, figuring he would have gone that way. They had beenfollowing the railways from the boneyard to the grounds the lastcouple of days.
Before she had taken more than three stepsinto the trees, Sicarius’s voice came from behind the brush.
“You found trouble,” he said.
“I had nothing to do with those peoplecalling your name,” Amaranthe said. “It seems you’re a popularfellow around these parts.”
“Too popular.”
“Yes, it’s suspicious. Think someone istrying to get you to make an appearance?”
“Unknown.” He gazed toward the stadium,though foliage hid the crowd from view. Perhaps at the enforcers’behest, the shouts of “Sicarius” had stopped.
Amaranthe summarized her conversation withthe woman for him. “I want to find this Raydevk’s flat, but let’scheck in on Books and Akstyr first. It’s hard to imagine Turgonianminers coming up with a scheme that involves magic, but I’d like abetter idea about what we’re dealing with, just in case. Unless youwant to go off and start training for the wrestling event?” sheasked, since his gaze was still toward the stadium. “Did thatfellow with the megaphone tempt you?”
Sicarius looked at her as if he suspected herof having received a brain-damaging head wound. “It would befoolish for me to go anywhere near the stadium once the ImperialGames begin, certainly not into the arena.”
He turned his back on the grounds and led herdeeper into the woods. They passed a human-sized statue of anarachnid that must have once had a head, for it was hewn off withthe granite stump now fuzzed with moss. Another victim of MadEmperor Motash’s mandate to decapitate all statues from the oldreligions.
“True,” Amaranthe said, “but some men haveegos that demand they prove themselves whenever challenged.”
“That is why they are dead, and I amnot.”
“I guess that explains your longevity.” Shegrinned. “I knew it wasn’t a matter of your amiable, warm-heartednature endearing you to people.”
That comment received no look at all, and hesaid nothing during the trip back to the boneyard. With that muchsilence surrounding Amaranthe, her mind was left to its own musing,and, not for the first time, she wondered why Sicarius’s name keptcoming up here-and why someone would risk impersonating him. Shealso wondered what had happened to Fasha to keep her from meetingAmaranthe.
“Questions,” she muttered to herself.“Nothing but questions.”
“What are you doing? I thought you were goingon two more runs before taking a break. You’re timing is still offon those swinging axes.”
Basilard flopped onto his back, hot sweatstreaming down his cheeks. Maldynado stood over him, fists proppedon his hips. The Clank Race whirred and hissed behind him. Most ofthe other athletes had left, though a young man was timing himselfon sprints up the nets.
You’re a worse taskmaster thanSicarius, Basilard signed.
“That’s because you don’t seem motivated. Youhave to win to have dinner with the emperor. I thought thatmattered to you. You want to talk to him on behalf of your peopleand slaves in the city, don’t you?”
Basilard sighed and rolled to his knees. Ifhe attacked Sicarius, he would not live long enough to winanything. Unless he succeeded. And if he did, Amaranthe would kickhim out of the group, and he’d have no one to translate his wishesto the emperor anyway.
“Why don’t you get some water?” Maldynadosaid. “Then we’ll do another round.”
Basilard stumbled to his feet with thighsrubbery from the previous twenty runs. We?
“We,” Maldynado said. “We’re a team. You runthe Clank Race, and I stand over here with the pocket watch andcheer you on. I think it works well. I’m…” His eyes shifted towatch something over Basilard’s shoulder. He frowned.
Basilard turned around to follow Maldynado’sgaze, but did not recognize the man approaching. He wore simple,but tailored clothing and a wide-brimmed beaver hat. Walking with acane made his gait uneven, but it slowed him little, and heappeared hale. Folded spectacles hung from his shirt collar, apencil protruded from the band of his hat, and he carried a pad ofpaper under his arm. He strode directly toward Maldynado andBasilard.
“What do you want, Deret?” Maldynadogrowled.
Basilard wondered if he should know thisperson.
“I’m working on a story.” The man gaveBasilard a curious look before focusing his attention on Maldynado.“Interviewing athletes. Trying to figure out what’s going on aroundhere with the missing people.”
Ah, this had to be the journalist Amaranthehad gone to see the night before. Mancrest.
“You could apologize for trying to kill myboss when I promised her you’d take her out to dinner and show hera nice evening,” Maldynado said.
“You neglected to mention she was a notoriousoutlaw,” Mancrest said.
“Seems you figured it out on your own. I’mlucky you don’t turn me in.”
“For two hundred and fifty ranmyas? Whybother?”
Maldynado’s fingers curled into a fist.
Basilard waved to get his attention.Perhaps we should not irritate this man since there areenforcers around and he knows who we are.
Maldynado sniffed. “I’m not going to irritatehim. I’m not going to talk to him at all.” He turned his back onMancrest and pointed at a couple of young men resting in the shadeof the Clank Race’s massive furnace and boiler. “Those two looklike your most promising competition, Bas.”
Basilard kept an eye on Mancrest. IfMaldynado’s dismissal bothered him, he did not show it.
“I have information for your…what is she toyou exactly?” Mancrest said. “A former lover? I can’t imagine youtrying to arrange a courtship for someone you were currentlyinvolved with, but it’s also impossible for me to imagine yougetting out of bed to exercise before dawn at the behest of a womanyou have no feelings for. It is equally impossible for me toimagine you living in close quarters with a woman and not sleepingwith her, or attempting to sleep with her.”
During this spiel, Maldynado had slowlyturned to face Mancrest again, and he eyed the other man withsuspicion. “Bas, was there an implied insult to the boss in there,or is he just insulting me?”
I…think the latter, Basilardsigned.
“All right.” Maldynado’s shoulders lowered,and he unclenched his fists. “That’s nothing unexpected then. Whatdo you want me to tell her, Mancrest?”
“What is she to you?” Mancrest asked.
“My employer.”
“You’ve never gotten up early for an employerbefore.” Mancrest eyed Maldynado up and down. “You look like you’rein the best shape of your life.”
Maldynado brightened swifter than the nightsky presented with a lightning flash. “I am! Look!” He dug hisshirt out of his trousers to display the lean ridges of hisabdomen.