That earned a puzzled head tilt from Sespian, and Amaranthe stifled a wince. She’d have to be careful not to make allusions to his parentage, especially when he didn’t yet know about that parentage.
“I just meant that I’m certain you’re fine with a blade, Sire, but I don’t want you fighting against your own men. We’re doing our best not to ki-permanently maim anyone, but…” Amaranthe shrugged. “I’d rather you not have to do anything that you’d regret later. Unless-” she lifted her eyebrows, “-I don’t suppose you could order them to leave us alone?”
Sespian’s expression grew wry. “If it were that easy, I’d have done so months ago. The soldiers would assume you were applying duress to get me to issue commands.”
“That’s about what I figured.”
“We’re under twenty miles an hour,” Yara said, voice raised to be heard above the pounding of footsteps on the roof and the continuous clamor of weapons outside either door. “If you want to roll some of the luggage out, now would be a good time.”
Luggage? Amaranthe was beginning to suspect the woman of having a sense of humor behind that ever- present flinty scowl.
“You could help me with that, Sire,” Amaranthe said. “It’d behoove us to clear the floor, in case…” She lifted her eyes in the direction of the fighting.
Sespian put aside his sword, and they grabbed the fireman by the armpits and legs to drag him to the door. Amaranthe’s shoulder flared with pain. You’re a minor wound, she told it, one that I’m ignoring. It sent an indignant throb down her arm.
On the way past the furnace, Amaranthe gave it a nod and said, “Yara, can you check on the coal, please?” She wondered if anyone else felt like a juggler with one too many spinning knives in the air.
Amaranthe and Sespian had dropped two men outside as carefully as they could when a volley of gunfire arose from the far end of the coal car. Amaranthe’s heart lurched. Had the soldiers seen Sicarius? She jumped onto the ledge behind Maldynado, barely noticing that he was exchanging sword blows with a man on the roof, and tried to see past him.
The soldiers on the balcony were shouting and waving. And shooting. Several men jumped onto the balcony railing and catapulted off it, grabbing the rear lip of the coal car. It took a second for Amaranthe to realize why. Sicarius had succeeded. He’d decoupled the cars, and the rest of the train was losing momentum and falling behind.
That didn’t mean her team was safe. No fewer than fifteen men were swarming the coal car and pressing against each other for a chance to get to the locomotive. Basilard continued to spray the hose, pounding high- pressure water into men’s chests, but with so many targets, people slipped past. Like the one exchanging blows with Maldynado from the roof. The big man wore the black of one of Sespian’s personal guards, and he had the high ground. Maldynado had to keep one hand gripping the doorjamb, lest he be pushed off the train.
Amaranthe touched the hilt of her short sword, thinking to help, but she wouldn’t be able to reach the man from her spot in the doorway. While she was glancing about for some kind of projectile weapon, she glimpsed a soldier kneeling behind one of the coal piles, taking aim at Maldynado.
Acting on instinct, Amaranthe grabbed a knife sheathed at Maldynado’s waist and hurled it at the man. He saw it coming in time to duck, but it disrupted his shot.
The big bodyguard kicked at Maldynado’s face. Maldynado ducked, but cursed, almost losing his grip on the train.
“I need a gun,” Amaranthe barked to anyone inside the cab who might be listening.
Sespian had retrieved the sword he’d picked up earlier, and he also had a pistol in hand, as if he’d been fearing he might need to use it. Uncertainty flashed across his face, but he extended the firearm toward Amaranthe anyway. He couldn’t feel good about helping his own guards get shot, but she didn’t have time to assuage his fears and promise to aim for non-vital targets.
“Thanks,” she said, already stepping back outside.
The soldier behind the coal hill was taking aim at Maldynado again. Amaranthe leaned out and targeted him with the pistol, making sure to move around enough that he saw her. The fellow ducked again.
Amaranthe switched her aim and whipped off a shot at the bodyguard attacking Maldynado. The bullet caught him in the knee. The man didn’t cry out, but his leg buckled. Maldynado grabbed his arm and yanked him overhead, hurling him to the ground.
Amaranthe winced. Even with the train running at half speed, some of these men were going to be lucky to survive. She was beginning to think they should have chosen another place for trying to get Sespian away from his people. This had turned into a-
“Your assassin is running beside the train,” Yara called out.
Another volley of gunshots came from the coal car, and nobody was shooting at Maldynado this time.
Amaranthe raced to the other side of the cabin, not certain what she could do to help Sicarius but positive she had to try.
At first, she didn’t see anything. Trees towered along the side of the tracks, and though their lower branches had been cut back, the higher ones stretched across the railway, blotting out the night sky. Even in the darkness, Sicarius should have been visible if he were running in the open stretch alongside the tracks.
“Where-” Amaranthe started to ask, but stopped.
A hint of movement amongst the trees, perhaps twenty feet back, caught her eye. More guns fired, bullets chipping at wood as they pounded into the forest. Sicarius must have had to sprint into the woods for cover after unfastening the coupling.
“Can you slow down any more?” Amaranthe asked Yara.
Sicarius leaped over a log, ducked a branch, and wove through the densely placed trunks. Despite the obstacles, he was matching the speed of the train, but Amaranthe feared he wouldn’t be able to veer to the side and catch up. He had to be running at his top speed as it was, and it couldn’t help that people were shooting at him.
“The controls don’t respond quickly,” Yara said. “It must take miles to bring this behemoth to a stop.”
“Do your best,” Amaranthe said.
Two more shots fired, and Sicarius’s blond hair, just visible amongst all the black of the forest, dropped out of sight. When he popped back up, he’d fallen several steps.
“Basilard, Maldynado, keep those men busy!” Amaranthe shouted, though she knew it was pointless. They were already doing the best they could. “Aim for their guns with the water, Basilard. Get their powder wet.” Maybe that would be a more useful order.
She grabbed the edge of the doorway, and leaned out, extending her hand for Sicarius. It was a pointless gesture-it wasn’t as if her sticking her hand out could make him run faster-but she didn’t know what more she could do. She thought about ordering her men to charge into the coal car, but three against fifteen odds would be foolish to take on. At least in their current setup, the soldiers were forced to attack via the narrow ledges leading to the locomotive.
Sicarius’s face turned her way.
“You don’t call that a sprint, do you?” Amaranthe called. “You can do better than that!”
Sicarius glanced toward the coal car, seemed to decide the people shooting at him were as distracted as they were going to get, and he angled out of the trees, sprinting to catch up with the train. On the flat, cleared ground beside the tracks, he could run faster, and his legs were a blur as he raced to gain ground. He caught up with the coal car and was nearing the locomotive where Amaranthe waited, hand still extended, when a soldier ducked beneath Basilard’s hose water and threw himself down at the edge of the car. He dropped his arm over the side, aiming a pistol for the back of Sicarius’s head.
Amaranthe grabbed at the knife on her belt, but knew her throw would come too late. Sicarius must have seen her looking at the sniper, for he whipped a knife over his shoulder. It slammed into the man’s eye. The soldier collapsed, the pistol falling free from his limp hand.
Amaranthe swallowed. There was no doubt as to whether that one would survive.
She glanced over her shoulder, hoping Sespian was somewhere he couldn’t see what was going on outside. She wouldn’t lie to him if he asked how many had been killed, but she’d prefer it if he didn’t have a reason to ask.
Sespian was bent over the furnace, shoveling coal into its belly. He noticed her checking on him and said,
