He shifted the focus of the spyglass to Ridgecrest and Sespian again. Along with several other officers, they stood on the west wall, overlooking the group of men on the field. Sespian was keeping his hood pulled close to his face. If anyone except Ridgecrest knew who he was, it wasn’t apparent.
Hours had passed since the thousands of soldiers had amassed around the fort, and they were setting up tents and digging trenches out there, but no weapons had been fired since the opening rounds from the invaders, more of a warning to cooperate than a true attack. The auto cannons mounted on the walls remained quiescent, though they’d been loaded, ready in case the invaders drew close enough for an assault on the fort.
Sespian’s head turned, and he scanned the rooftops inside the compound. Looking for someone? His father? He must wonder where Sicarius and the others had gone, if they’d stayed inside or left him to fend for himself.
Though it went against his nature-the last thing he wanted to do was draw a soldier’s attention to his position-Sicarius waved a hand when the searching gaze drifted in his direction. Sespian’s eyes lifted, then halted. They looked at each other for a moment, then Sespian turned back and responded to some comment Ridgecrest had made. It occurred to Sicarius that all Sespian would have to do was say a few words, and squads of soldiers could be sent to the clock tower with orders to kill him. Sespian didn’t have the heart of a murderer, but was it truly murder to give an order to have a notorious assassin slain? Or, in his eyes, was it justice? Perhaps he’d find that more amenable than having to deal with his father’s attempts at establishing a relationship with him.
Stop being melodramatic, Sicarius told himself. Sespian might have once loathed him, but surely familiarity had resulted in a modicum of… tolerance. Hadn’t Amaranthe often said that people had a hard time killing those they knew? Of course, she had a knack for getting people to like her, not simply know her. Either way, he’d already picked a couple of likely escape routes if he had to flee the clock tower. Even if the exit below were blocked, he had rope in his pack and could toss a line to the wall or a rooftop. Besides, the soldiers were intent on those outside the walls at the moment.
“Is there an army order against pissing in a corner of a clock tower?” Maldynado asked.
With his back to the men, Sicarius didn’t see Basilard’s signed response.
“Are you sure?” Maldynado asked. “You’re not even Turgonian. How would you know?”
Sicarius ignored the conversation and shifted the spyglass back to the field. The knot of men was breaking up with the four from the fort heading back to the gate.
“Fine.” Maldynado walked up to the window beside Sicarius. “Then is there a rule about pissing outside of a clock tower? We’ve been cooped up in here for hours, and I haven’t unleashed the snake since we left the warehouse.”
Without lowering the spyglass, Sicarius turned his coldest stare onto Maldynado. “You will not urinate out the window.” Soldiers previously occupied by the invaders might develop an interest in the clock tower should suspiciously yellow snow catch someone’s eye.
I told you, Basilard signed.
“Where then?” Maldynado propped his hands on his hips. “The way things are going, we’ll be here for days. Even you can’t hold it that long.”
A creak drifted up from the double doors marking the fort entrance. The four officers jogged through the sally port and headed for General Ridgecrest’s portion of the wall. Their route took them near the clock tower, so Sicarius drew back into the shadows, glancing at Maldynado to ensure his “snake” wasn’t anywhere near the window. Intent on their mission, the officers did not look up. They ran up the stairs, stopping before Ridgecrest, and a long dialogue ensued. At the end, Ridgecrest drew Sespian to the side.
Sicarius lifted the spyglass again, trying to read lips. Ridgecrest’s back was to him, though, and he couldn’t decipher much of the conversation. After a few minutes, Sespian nodded, pointed toward the field, then walked down the stairs. Ridgecrest also descended, though he strode in another direction, toward the headquarters building in the center of a complex of offices.
Sespian’s route zigzagged, first down one street, then up an alley, and Sicarius realized he must be coming to see him, choosing a route that someone watching from the wall wouldn’t be able to follow. Judging by the gesticulations and curses being flung in the direction of the army outside, few people were paying attention to him. Sicarius didn’t think anyone noticed him come out of an alley and jog across the square to the base of the clock tower.
A soft thump drifted up from below, the sound of the door closing.
“What was that?” Maldynado blurted, in the middle of… Sicarius stared at him. He had chosen a dim corner in which to relieve himself.
I told you, Basilard signed again, this time adding, They’re coming for you.
“What? Who?”
The military police.
“Very funny.”
The wooden stairs leading to the top of the tower creaked. Cursing under his breath, Maldynado hastened to button himself in.
A second step creaked, and this time it was Sespian who cursed under his breath. “Just so you know,” he called up softly, “I was stepping on the edges. These stairs are hundreds of years old. And creakier than a granny’s rocker.”
Sicarius grunted softly and almost responded that it took time to master the art of stealth, but Maldynado and Basilard’s presence squelched his thoughts of speaking.
Sespian climbed out of the shadows and went straight to Sicarius at the window. “I have a message for you.”
Sicarius waited.
“The confabulation out there wasn’t useful. General Ridgecrest hasn’t learned anything except that the army is being led by Satrap Governor Lord General Heroncrest-his are the soldiers who’ve been wearing the blue armbands around town-and that he has a lot more men in the area than anyone expected. He’s got one of the railroads, which everyone has known about, but the last stop before Stumps has been monitored, and that many people-” he waved toward the encamped army, “-never disembarked. We’re surmising that his men have been coming in day and night, but getting off at the previous stop and forming up in the mountains.”
“This message is for me?” Sicarius asked.
“No, but I thought you’d want to know the background information. What Ridgecrest is interested in from you is… he wants more intelligence, for someone to spy on that camp and report back to him.”
Sicarius stared.
“You can’t be surprised,” Sespian said. “Everyone’s heard of you. As his X.O. said, you’re legendary.”
“He used that word?”
“It was close to that word,” Sespian said. “His actual choice might have been infamous.”
“I see.”
“But Ridgecrest nodded.”
“They thought of me for this intelligence-gathering endeavor? Of their own accord?” Sicarius deemed it unlikely. To the army, he was nothing more than a loathed criminal who’d killed dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers over the years. Besides, the general would have his own trained spies.
“I… may have volunteered you,” Sespian said.
“Oh, this should prove interesting,” Maldynado chimed in.
Basilard gave him a shushing swat.
Sicarius said nothing, merely waiting for a further explanation. He understood that Sespian wanted to ingratiate himself to Ridgecrest, but found it hard to believe the general would have accepted this offering.