Two men climbed into the truck and started handing bundles to someone on the ground who passed the load to the men in the train. They definitely looked like rifles, shiny, new ones at that.
“That’s not the sort of produce one expects from a pumpkin patch,” Amaranthe whispered.
Next to her, Sicarius lay still, eye pressed to the spyglass, intent on the scene below. “Those aren’t percussion-cap or flintlock weapons.”
“Oh?” Amaranthe remembered stumbling across new military technology during a brief mission the summer before, but she’d thought those had been prototypes, weapons that were heavily guarded behind army fortress walls, not roaming the countryside in beat-up farm lorries.
“Cartridge-based guns where the powder and charge are self-contained in the bullet,” Sicarius said. “They appear to be able to hold multiple rounds.”
Amaranthe thought of the repeating crossbow in the train with her gear. One of the reasons she kept it- aside from the fact that, inside the city, black-powder weapons were outlawed to all except military personnel-was that it could hold five quarrels as opposed to the single shot capability most rifles and pistols offered.
Sicarius handed her the spyglass for a closer look. More bundles of sleek rifles went into the train, followed by crates of ammunition. Two men worked together to lift something larger out of the lorry. It resembled a cannon on a frame with two big wooden wheels, but it had multiple barrels and a hand-crank.
“Advanced artillery weapons as well,” Amaranthe murmured. “This train is on its way back to the city after its last stop. These people will have a hard time unloading that cargo in the main train yard.”
“Perhaps the engineer will make another detour,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe lowered the spyglass, amazed as more and more rifles and artillery devices were transferred into the train. “That’s a lot of weapons. You don’t think someone is… planning to occupy the city, do you?” It was hard to imagine. With Fort Urgot so close and with more soldiers stationed in the Imperial Barracks, how could anyone come up with the numbers necessary? There were a million people in the capital, half of them men. Most Turgonian men knew how to fight and were darned patriotic about doing it too.
Of course, a force with superior firepower would have an advantage. What if this was only one of many shipments of advanced weapons heading into the city?
“I can question the engineer,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe grimaced, knowing he did not differentiate between questioning and interrogation. “He’s probably just some paid-off lackey who doesn’t know much.”
She felt Sicarius’s gaze upon her. Was she putting feelings about torture and killing ahead of pragmatism again? Sicarius’s ways were heartless, but effective.
“He knows where the train is going,” Sicarius said.
“So will we, if we stay on it. Although… I’d like to know where those weapons originated, wouldn’t you? Maybe we could sneak into one of those wagons for a ride back to… wherever they came from.”
“We already have a mission to prepare for,” Sicarius said.
“We’ll have plenty of time to get back to the city and catch the train to Forkingrust, just as we planned. This should only be a short detour.” Amaranthe waved to the pumpkin sign on the cab door. “Those trucks look local.”
Sicarius’s gaze grew flinty. Amaranthe doubted he was thinking about her hair this time.
“We’ll take a quick look around, that’s all,” she said. “If there’s something worth investigating further, we can save that for after we get Sespian.”
“He must be the priority.”
“He is,” Amaranthe said, “though I’m sure he would put the city ahead of his personal welfare.”
Sicarius eyed the lorries, his jaw set. “If we do not finish in a timely manner, I will go get him on my own.”
Amaranthe had no intention of letting that happen-though he might get Sespian, his way would surely involve a lot of bloodshed-but she said, “I understand. I’ll wake the others.”
“What’s going on?” Books asked, when Amaranthe slipped back through the trapdoor.
“An interesting development,” she whispered. “Is everyone up?”
“I’m up,” Maldynado said, “though I’m disturbed that I woke to someone-who wasn’t a woman-massaging my chest.”
“Not me,” Akstyr said.
“You’re not a woman or you weren’t massaging me?” Maldynado asked.
“That’s three people awake,” Amaranthe said. “Basilard?”
A patting hand found her shoulder. Basilard. It must be hard on him, not being able to communicate in the dark, but she dared not light a lantern with so many men outside.
“Good.” Amaranthe patted his hand back. “Akstyr, Maldynado, and Basilard, I want you to stay on the train. It’s taking on a secret shipment of advanced weaponry, and I want to know where it gets delivered. We’ll meet you back at the Stumps hideout as soon as possible, so we can get ready for the kidnapping mission.”
Basilard gripped her shoulder to let her know he agreed.
“All right,” Akstyr said. He did not sound excited, but he didn’t complain about taking on a job where payment wouldn’t be involved either. Unusual for him.
“Back to the city is good,” Maldynado said. “Someone here needs a woman.”
“Dolt,” Books said, “you were probably massaging yourself.”
“Books,” Amaranthe said before their conversation could grow any more colorful. “Come with Sicarius and me, please. We’re going to sneak aboard the lorries and see where the guns came from.” She was tempted to send him with the others since stealth wasn’t his strongest skill, but his knowledge might prove useful in figuring out what was going on.
“How delightful,” Books said. “Field work.”
Amaranthe smiled. Though she might never get enthusiasm from him for such a project, at least he did not sound nervous or intimidated by the task. He would have once.
Amaranthe patted around to find her and Sicarius’s rucksacks. Her hand brushed someone’s clothing laid out to dry. “It probably goes without saying, but more than ever we want to make sure the engineer doesn’t find out that we were here, so make sure to take everything with you.”
Akstyr groaned. “We have to clean?”
There was the complaining Amaranthe expected from him. “I’ll compensate you later.”
She belted on her short sword, shouldered both rucksacks, and slung her crossbow across her torso. Being stealthy while laden down with all of one’s gear was always a challenge. She hoped the noise from the train and lorry engines would drown out any crunches and clunks she might make out there.
When Amaranthe and Books joined Sicarius, he took his rucksack and led the way to the ground via the back side of the train. Nobody was working over there, but Amaranthe was careful to step lightly on the gravel.
Darkness stretched across a harvested cornfield on the backside of the train, and the night air smelled of damp earth and freshly cut plant matter. Sicarius stopped behind the coal car and hopped onto the connector. After checking in both directions, he glided into a harvested cornfield on the opposite side, a cornfield in full view of the loading dock and the men working there.
His willingness to stride into the open surprised Amaranthe, but nobody raised an alarm. Indeed, she soon lost sight of Sicarius herself. The moon had set, and clouds blotted out most of the stars, leaving visibility poor.
Amaranthe gave Books a “let’s go” pat, hopped over the coupling, and eased out from between the cars. After a glance to make sure Books was following and none of the workers were looking in their direction, she took the same route Sicarius had.
Fifteen meters away, the workers continued to load the weapons. Amaranthe took careful steps down a row in the harvested cornfield. Though common sense told her the workers’ eyes would be night-blind after being near the light, she felt vulnerable with nothing more than the six-inch-high stalk remains offering concealment. Sneaking should only be done in mature, un-harvested cornfields, she decided.
Every time dry foliage crunched beneath her or Books’s boots, Amaranthe winced, but none of the workers looked their way. Whoever this group was, they seemed confident that nobody was around to witness their cargo being loaded.
Once she had put twenty or thirty meters between her and the tracks, Amaranthe paused, looking for
