The footsteps he was waiting for grew audible. Two sets. These were the roving guards for this, the north wall. When he and Basilard had scouted the fort the night before, Sicarius had counted how long it took the men to complete each pass. He’d have approximately ninety-five seconds before they walked this way again.
After the footsteps faded from hearing, he waited five more seconds, then swung the grappling hook, releasing it at the apex. For a moment, its prongs were outlined against the cloudy sky above, then it disappeared over the parapet. Thanks to padded tips, the clank as it landed on stone was muted. Not completely silent, though, and Sicarius’s ears had no trouble picking it up.
He gave one quick tug to test the line, then skimmed up the rope, reaching the top in a couple of seconds. Though his ears promised him no one waited above, he paused for a quick glance in either direction, and also toward the brick buildings and walkways inside the fort. In a grassy square lined with streetlamps and bare trees, several whitewashed wooden houses stood-the homes of the high-ranking officers stationed here. General Ridgecrest’s family should live in one of them.
As he took in these details, Sicarius released the grappling hook for the others to catch-he’d leave no telltale sign of his arrival on the wall. Then he skimmed down the walkway toward the dark tower.
The stout wooden door stood closed, but there wasn’t any glass in the windows overlooking the fields. Sicarius leaped onto the wall, fingers finding grips in the mortar between the stones, and, like a spider, he crawled around to the closest opening. As he’d guessed, two soldiers waited inside. Nobody was sleeping. They were standing with their backs to him, one pointing toward the ground outside the other window, one lifting a rifle.
Sicarius’s gut clenched. They were aiming at the spot where he’d left the others. Sespian.
He launched himself into the room, his black dagger finding its way into his hand. Instincts told him to ram the blade into the man’s back, to the left of the spine, between the ribs, to find his heart. At the last instant, he flipped the weapon in his hand and shifted targets. He slammed the hilt into the soldier’s head, then grabbed him by the back of the neck and thrust his face into the stone wall. When flesh met unyielding granite, the man crumpled. Sicarius tore the rifle out of his hands before it could clatter against anything.
The second man spun in his direction, but he moved too slowly. Sicarius slammed his elbow into his solar plexus. He gasped and bent, staggering backward. The soldier tried to yank out the pistol at his belt. His hand never reached the weapon. Sicarius swung the butt of the rifle upward, clunking him beneath the chin. The man jerked backward and toppled to the ground. Clothing rasped against the stone floor-the first man trying to grab a knife at his waist. Sicarius stepped on his windpipe to discourage further struggles and pulled out his gags and ties. While keeping an eye on the second man-he’d gone down hard and wasn’t moving-Sicarius bound the first. Aware of the heartbeats passing-and the footfalls as the roving guards approached-he tied the knots as swiftly as possible, again reminded why his instructors had simply instilled in him the instinct to kill. He could have nullified every guard on the wall in the time it was taking him to subdue two.
As he moved onto tying the second person, the footfalls stopped outside the door. The roving guards didn’t usually check inside the towers. They must have seen or heard something. A soft clank sounded, the latch releasing.
Sicarius tied the last knot and leaped for the window. The door swung open. He scurried around the outside of the building, using the bulk of the open door to hide his return to the parapet.
“What?” one of the guards blurted.
It was all he got out before Sicarius landed behind them, bringing the hilt of his dagger down onto the speaker’s head as he dropped. The blunt end struck the coronal structure hard enough to cause the soldier to stagger forward, gasping in pain and confusion, but not hard enough to kill him. Before his comrade could whirl about, Sicarius pinched his fingers together into an arrow shape and dug them into the pressure point near the man’s kidney. Trusting the pain to be intense, he snaked his free hand around the soldier’s head, flattening it against the mouth. With those hard fingers jabbed into his back, the man staggered into the tower on his tiptoes. His back arched as he tried to squirm out of the iron grip. Using his boot, Sicarius tugged the door shut behind him. He bound and gagged the standing soldier, then attended to the second.
With four men now subdued in the guard tower, he returned to the rest of his team and signaled for them to climb up. While they did so, Sicarius took down the soldiers in the lit tower using similar methods. When he returned, Sespian, Basilard, and Maldynado waited in low crouches, hugging the shadows between the towers. They’d wound up the rope and grapple and were ready to move on.
“If nobody escapes,” Sicarius whispered, “and nobody checks the towers before the shift change, we’ll have two hours before anyone notices security has been compromised.”
“What happens if they do escape?” Sespian asked.
Sicarius admitted that was a possibility. For all that he’d tied the knots tightly, the men would have nothing else to do but work on freeing themselves. “We’ll have less time.”
Maldynado grunted at this statement of the obvious. “We just have to get to Ridgecrest and convince him to have a chat with us. If we’re having cider in his office with him, nobody’s going to start shooting at us. He’s got a wife and a couple of teenage daughters, too, if we need them.”
“Are you suggesting we use hostages to arrange our escape from the fort?” Sespian asked, his tone oozing disapproval. For once, it wasn’t aimed at Sicarius.
“Uhm, no?” Maldynado said. It sounded like a lie, but then he smiled and added, “I figure they’ll fall in love with me after I’ve been flirting with them for a while, and they’ll help us escape of their own volition.”
“If we stop talking, we can get in and out without anyone but Ridgecrest knowing we’re here.” To announce the conversation at an end, Sicarius left them, trotting for a stone staircase leading into the streets below.
He kept an eye out as they traversed the fort, sticking to unlit alleys as he picked a path toward the officers’ houses. It was past bedtime, but not so late that nobody would be about, and he paused, waiting for more than one person to pass. During peacetime, many officers and senior enlisted soldiers, especially those who were married, stayed in the city, bicycling or jogging to work each morning. But now, with the capital poised for battle, those who were stationed here were sleeping on base, and lights burned behind many of the barracks windows. The armory and several supply and office buildings were lit as well with people working late. Every bicycle rack was occupied and military-style steam carriages and lorries were parked before the senior officers’ houses.
They reached the grassy square, and Sicarius headed for the largest house. The first snowflakes drifted down from the sky.
Sespian jogged a few steps and caught up with Sicarius, matching pace, perhaps wanting to be the first person General Ridgecrest saw. Without knowing where Ridgecrest stood-just because he wasn’t eager to jump into bed with Ravido didn’t mean he’d be delighted to see the emperor he’d thought dead-Sicarius had no intention of letting him walk in first, nor would he knock on the door as if they were coming for a friendly chat. It was possible that force or manipulation would be required to win the general’s hand-and his agreement to turn over Fort Urgot to Sespian. This was a man they should catch off-guard.