Basilard pointed at the scattered tiles. You only did that because you were losing.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Your brother, I believe,” Amaranthe said. “I’d like a few more details there, if you don’t mind. Is he an officer at Fort Urgot? Does it make sense that he’d be in charge of overseeing a delivery of weapons? Any idea what he’s doing with this Major Pike?”
“In no particular order, I don’t know, I don’t know, and I don’t know,” Maldynado said. “I haven’t seen him in years, and I haven’t talked to anyone in my family since before I joined up with you.”
“Can you tell us his name, at least?”
“I like to call him Lord General Dungpile,” Maldynado said. “Technically it was Lord Lieutenant Dungpile when I was a boy, but both have a nice ring.”
“Maldynado,” Amaranthe said, “I can see there’s not a lot of love flowing between you and your family, but I’d appreciate a little help here.”
“Ravido,” Akstyr said. “That was it, right? General Ravido something-crest.”
“Thank you, Akstyr.” Amaranthe frowned at Maldynado, and he squirmed under her gaze, oozing discomfort. He was always so relaxed and unflappable that she could only imagine that his family was a source of painful memories. She wanted more details, but had a feeling she would have to get him somewhere private to extract them. Like a private shopping trip. “Maldynado, how would you like to help me purchase a few items this evening?”
He winced, though he covered it quickly with a smile. “With you? Why don’t you let me go on my own? You know I get the best deals when I operate solo.”
He must know she wanted to pump him for information. “Yes,” Amaranthe said, “something about you finding it easier to convince female businesswomen and vendors that they have a chance with you if there’s not a lady tagging along behind.”
Books had pulled out his journal and a fresh newspaper he’d picked up and seemed to be looking around for suitable workspace, but he paused to snort at the conversation.
“I need to go along to do the special knock,” Amaranthe went on. “I’ve already put in the order, but I’m concerned I won’t have enough funds to cover the fee she quoted me. I thought you might be able to talk her down a little. Any reason you can’t make it?”
“None that I can think of,” Maldynado muttered.
“Good.” Amaranthe faced Sicarius. “That farm lorry we… acquired-” truth though it may be, she couldn’t bring herself to say stole, “-do you think it’s in suitable shape to be driven up to the Scarlet Pass?”
“There will be snow in the mountains,” Sicarius said. “A storm could make the roads impassable.”
“Even to people with blasting sticks?” Amaranthe asked.
The look Sicarius gave her suggested her question did not deserve an answer.
Basilard signed, Aren’t we taking a train across the mountains?
“Most of us are,” Amaranthe said, “and we’ll infiltrate the emperor’s train at Forkingrust, but for my plan to work, I’ll need a couple of people to go to the pass separately, with a few blasting sticks, to create a slight distraction that will force the engineer to stop.”
“A distraction?” Books frowned. “Such as a landslide?”
“One that covers the railway completely, yes,” Amaranthe said.
Books’s frown deepened. “You intend to blockade one of the main supply lines to Stumps?”
“Not permanently. We’ll just drop a tiny bit of rubble across the tracks, so the soldiers need to climb out and work on clearing it.”
Basilard signed, While we pull the emperor out?
“That’s the idea,” Amaranthe said. “Once the train is delayed and we escape with the emperor, the team can get away in the lorry.”
“You’re going to ask the emperor to ride in that dilapidated pumpkin hauler?” Maldynado asked.
“He’s the one who asked mercenaries to kidnap him,” Amaranthe said. “He can’t expect us to pick him up in a velvet-cushioned steam carriage.”
“No, no. A clunker purloined from a farm will never do for this mission,” Maldynado said. “You need a reliable vehicle to get the blasting sticks into the mountains, one with enough size and comfort to fit everyone in afterward, including persons accustomed to fine things.”
“Do you know where we could get a more appropriate vehicle?” Amaranthe asked, wondering if she would regret it.
“Better, faster, you bet. I have a friend, well, more than a friend in truth… Lady Buckingcrest. She has all sorts of interesting conveyances. I’m certain I could arrange for a suitable transport for our needs, providing I’m not being tasked with the unchallenging task of bartering for lower prices on blasting sticks.”
The blasting sticks weren’t going to be inexpensive, and Amaranthe had a feeling Maldynado would be useful in that negotiation, but his eyes were gleaming, and he seemed quite pleased at the notion of talking to this Lady Buckingcrest. Amaranthe wondered if he wasn’t simply looking for a way to avoid spending time alone with her. Still, a better vehicle would be a boon.
“You think you can get us something suitable for a climb into the mountains?” Amaranthe asked. “For a low price?”
“For free, I should think.” Maldynado examined his nails and smiled. “Lady Buckingcrest and I have a special relationship. We’ve known each other since we were teenaged youths, first exploring carnal endeavors. She’s married these days, but she finds me quite fascinating now that I’m disowned and running with outlaws. Not that I wasn’t fascinating before. And she owes me for countless hours of-”
Amaranthe flung up a hand. “Those types of details aren’t necessary.”
Maldynado blinked innocently. “I was going to say witty conversation.”
“Please,” Books said.
“Either way, I’m certain I can acquire something suitable.” Maldynado winked, and Amaranthe had a feeling she should be worried.
“This isn’t going to go smoothly, I can tell.” Books pocketed his journal, pulled a chair up to the table, and laid out the newspaper. “Fraught. Already this mission is fraught with perilous dangers and morally ambiguous choices.”
“Booksie.” Maldynado flung an arm across Books’s shoulders. “Don’t say things like that.”
Books shoved the hand off. “Why not? They’re true.” He scooted his chair out of Maldynado’s reach.
“Well, of course they’re true. It’s an Amaranthe plan after all. But the way you say things makes you sound old and stodgy. You’ll never get a woman by blathering on like that.”
Amaranthe arched an eyebrow at Books. “I’m not sure which one of us he insulted more there.”
“Oh, it’s me,” Books said. “It’s always me.”
Maldynado smiled broadly. Books hunched over the newspaper and ignored him.
Sicarius had moved closer to the table, and, thinking he wanted to add input, Amaranthe asked him, “Any thoughts on the plan? Or whether I should feel more insulted than Books?”
“No.”
That surprised her. Actually it worried her. He had more at stake than any of them. If Books thought her plan was “fraught” she imagined Sicarius would find problems with it too. If he didn’t have any input, maybe it was because he’d already decided to go off on his own. He’d given her nothing but steely glares ever since she’d talked with Sergeant Yara.
“Any news on us?” Akstyr asked Books.
“No,” Books said.
Amaranthe wondered at Akstyr’s sudden interest in newspaper articles. He hadn’t noticeably cared when Books read the previous ones that mentioned the team.
“This is interesting though.” Books pointed to a front-page entry. “A banker was found in his bed, dead of a violent seizure.”
Akstyr’s nose crinkled. “You think that’s interesting?”
“It might be a signal of fractures amongst the Forge coalition. Or perhaps not everyone in the business world is choosing to sign on. This man was only thirty, and there’s mention of a mysterious bump at his neck.”
