“He’s probably trying to fulfill hisassignment then. Perhaps he’s chanced onto something good and needsto observe it before reporting back.”
“Perhaps.” Amaranthe rubbed her eyes. She hadlain awake most of the night, waiting for Sicarius’s return, and,as the hours had dwindled on, she had begun to question herself forsending him after the miners. They had seemed innocuous enough, butthat was before she read the note with his name on it. And beforethe family had disappeared, leaving her with no link to the miners.“I should have let him do it his way, Books.”
“Would that be a way that involved killing,torturing, or otherwise maiming people?”
“I bet he could have gotten the answers weneeded by applying force that didn’t do permanent damage.” Shepoked at a splinter of wood sticking out of the crate. “Instead Igot sanctimonious and said it would be better to fool the minersinto talking to us by dressing up as enforcers. If we’d done it hisway, we’d probably have been finished in ten minutes, and we’d knowwho we were up against by now.”
“I’d be uncomfortable working for you if youchose his way very often,” Books said.
“Well, my way isn’t getting the swordpolished.”
“Why do you say that? We’ve accomplishednoteworthy tasks under your leadership.”
“Because we’ve been lucky. No becausehe’s gotten me out of trouble. My crazy ideas have almostgotten me killed a half a dozen times now, and I’ve landed thewhole group in dire situations more than once. My schemes seem sotantalizing and shiny when they first come to mind, and then I jumpoff the dock without checking to see if the lake’s gone dry. Ishould stop and get Sicarius’s opinion first-and listen to it andthink about it. I should get all of your opinions. What goodis a group if you don’t utilize everyone to his fullest?”
Books grunted and sat on a crate oppositefrom hers.
She eyed him. “This would be the appropriatetime for you to say something like, ‘Amaranthe, you’re being toohard on yourself….’”
“Oh? I thought we’d had a conversation likethis before, and you told me the woman wants to rant while the mannods and grunts in agreement.”
“That was a little different.” She tried tosmile for him, but could not, not when she remembered the eventsthat had led up to that conversation with him on a frozen dockoutside of a cannery. That night, Sicarius had helped her byslaying a squad of enforcers and her old partner. “You’re rightthough. Sicarius’s ways of doing things are too macabre for thegroup and our goals. But mine are…” She propped her chin on herfist. “What do you think, Books? I value your opinion.”
“I don’t think we’d have accomplished what wehave without your ideas. Don’t get rid of them, and don’t stopbeing…”
She waited for him to say “crazy.”
“Creative,” Books said.
Well, that was nicer than crazy.
“But…”
Amaranthe braced herself. She hadasked.
“You lack prudence,” Books said. “I suspectit’s a combination of youth and the fact that, until recently, youlived your life under strict rules, first as a child obedient toyour father and your school teachers, and then as an enforcer,obedient to superiors and indeed in charge of enforcing lawsyourself. For the first time, you have utter freedom, and it’snatural for you to struggle to find a way that works. We all say wecrave freedom, but the truth is many people hang themselves withoutthe structure society imposes. Nobody’s done what you’re trying todo, so there’s no precedent, no guideline to follow.”
“That is true,” Amaranthe said.
“Since that’s the case, you should thinktwice and consider all possible outcomes before embarking on a planthat could get you, or someone else, captured.”
“It’s not as if that’s alwaysforeseeable.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Youhave a tendency to wander into the enemy camp to chat with the headvillain.”
“I don’t…” She stopped, since his eyebrowswere threatening to crawl up to the top of his scalp and leap forthe sky. Yes, she had done exactly that with Hollowcrest, thewizard Arbitan, and the shamans from Mangdoria. And now she hadsent Sicarius off to spy on what might be the head villain.
“You do,” Books said, “and I understand why.You get a lot of information from talking to people, and you’resmarter than average, so you probably believe you can get yourselfout of any trouble you get into. When I was a professor, I foundthat bright people sometimes make the worst students. They don’twant to simply do the assignment; they want to add creative flairand sophistication, and they make things so complicated that theyfail to finish on time.”
“What did you say to thosechallenged-by-their-own-creative-flair students?” Amaranthe asked.“How did you teach them more…prudence?” She smiled, thinking hewould appreciate that she used his word.
His face grew long though, and he shook hishead. “I couldn’t teach them that. Only experience could. There area lot of platitudes that suggest age makes us wise, but the truthis it’s losing that teaches best. Making mistakes. Failing.Some people are wise enough to learn from the mistakes of others,but most need to experience failure first hand. You may need tolose something important before the lessons of life sink in.” Hegrimaced, perhaps thinking of his son and his own past.
“I liked it better when you were justgrunting,” Amaranthe said.
“I’m sorry, but you asked-”
She lifted a hand. “I know. I did. Thank you.I’ll think about your words. And I hope they’re not prophetic. I’mnot ready to lose anything, especially not one of you.”
“Well,” Books said lightly, “if youhad to lose someone, Sicarius would be the leastmissed.”
Amaranthe stared at him, stricken.
“Er.” This time he raised an apologetic hand.“Sorry. It was a joke. A poor joke.”
“He’s the only reason I’m alive, Books. Hesaves my life again and again, and I repay him by sending him offto be abducted or killed by whatever nefarious magic-hurlingzealots are swiping athletes from the Imperial Games. Whodoes that to people they-” Amaranthe stopped herself fromfinishing the sentence, certain Books would be horrified by aproclamation that she loved Sicarius. She cleared her throat andswitched subjects. “I’m hoping he’s only detained, but I feel it’dbe best to go forward on the assumption he’s in trouble. If that isthe case, I’d like to prudently extract him from it.” Shedug out the note they had swiped from the miner’s pocket. “We losenothing by working toward that goal, since I’m guessing, if heis missing, he’s where the rest of the athletes are.”
While Books studied the note, she wondered ather own words. Rest of the athletes? It was applicable, ifnot official. Sicarius might not have ever competed in a publicvenue, but she had little doubt, even older than most of the field,he would be at the top if he did enter. Maybe this had nothing todo with the Imperial Games at all. Could it be someone was roundingup the most physically gifted men and women around and using thisevent to shop for likely candidates? Sicarius’s reputation couldplace him at the top of such a list even if the people doing theshopping had not seen him perform.
If her theory were true, to what ends wouldsomeone want these people? To create some sort of mercenary army?An elite force? She curled her lip at the idea. That was herown fantasy for the Emperor’s Edge. Aside from perhaps thewrestlers, the other athletes who had been taken were notnecessarily warriors. Being able to run fast or maneuver throughthe Clank Race did not mean one had studied fencing or unarmedcombat.
“Any thoughts?” she asked Books.
“Horrible penmanship.”
“You better give me more than that if you’regoing to save me from doing something imprudent.” She smiled.