She blushed. “Early spring isn’t hunting season, you say?”
“Haven’t been out of the city much, have you?” Maldynado’s eyes twinkled.
Amaranthe imagined him plotting some trick to play on her, the wilderness neophyte. “I have been to the mountains before.”
“Did you ever get out of the lorry?”
“It was a locomotive, and, yes, I stayed overnight in a cabin. A friend and I were visiting our fathers’ work camp.”
The twinkle failed to leave Maldynado’s eyes.
“We’ll say we’re going to make a bid on some property,” she said. “Which is sort of possibly a truth.”
“Decision’s made?” Sicarius called over the pumping pistons of the engine. “They’re closing on us quickly.”
“My grandmother on a bicycle could close on us quickly,” Maldynado said. “This slag heap was probably the first model ever made.”
“Yes,” Amaranthe told Sicarius. “You might want to cover your blond hair though. We wouldn’t want them distracted from their errand by your bounty.”
The armored lorry drew closer. Black plumes spewed from a smokestack painted silver to complement the red sheen of the body. Enforcer colors.
“What if we are their errand?” Books asked.
“Let’s hope we’re not and they go right by,” Amaranthe said.
“And if they don’t?” Books asked. “This isn’t enforcer jurisdiction, is it? If something out here was wrong, they’d call in the army, wouldn’t they?”
“Depends on the incident. There are rural enforcer units.”
The vehicle loomed behind them. A bronze plaque on the front of the lorry read: Ag. District #3. Maldynado steered their own vehicle to the side, leaving enough room for the other to pass.
Sicarius sat next to the gear, his back against the side of the bed, head ducked low to stay out of sight. Amaranthe faced forward, pulling her hood lower over her eyes.
As the enforcer vehicle drew even with them, she sat, shoulders hunched. Just an innocent traveler, beaten down by the rain. Out of the corner of her eye, the people in the cab came into view: two men and a woman. The latter looked their way.
Amaranthe twitched with surprise. Of course, she had not been the only female enforcer in the city, but they were so rare she knew most. She recovered and offered a nod toward the woman while searching her memory for the face. Nothing came to mind.
After a brief survey, the woman returned her attention to the road ahead. Nobody yelled at Maldynado to halt, and Amaranthe sighed with relief, glad she did not have to use her sketchy story.
The enforcer vehicle pulled ahead. A dark oilskin tarp protected the large lorry bed from the elements, but the rear flap was rolled up, allowing a view of the inside. At least thirty soldiers in army blacks crowded the benches, each man with a sword and rifle wedged between his knees.
Perhaps noticing her stare, one stood and untied the flap. It fell into place, hiding the interior.
“Since when do enforcer vehicles get used to transport the army?” Amaranthe asked.
“I have a more pertinent question,” Books said. “Are they going where we’re going, and, if so, should we revise our itinerary?”
Sicarius came forward, crouching behind Amaranthe.
“Thoughts?” she asked him.
“An enforcer vehicle traversing the countryside isn’t uncommon,” he said.
“Whereas a convoy of steam trampers and black army troop transports might cause the population alarm?” she asked. “Especially when there’s hardly anyone to war with to the east?”
“How delightful,” Books said. “Not only are they going someplace where a platoon of soldiers is required, but the situation is so dire people need to be kept in the dark.”
“It’s the empire,” Amaranthe said lightly. “People are usually kept in the dark.”
“How comforting,” Books said.
“This road leads to several destinations,” she said. “Let’s not get concerned until we’re sure we have something to worry about.”
“So, we should go back to teasing Books about his lady friend?” Maldynado asked.
“Perhaps we could travel in silence for a while.” Amaranthe gave Books a sympathetic smile.
The silence lasted almost a minute before the eye patch debate came up again. Amaranthe sighed and studied the craggy mountains ahead. Halfway up the green slopes, snow started, cold and forbidding. What else lay up there, waiting for them?
CHAPTER 10
A maranthe bent to pick up a branch that appeared somewhat less damp and muddy than the others. When she stood, a rivulet of raindrops dripped off the top of her hood and spattered her nose. Frogs croaked in the stagnant pond stretching alongside the campsite, their enthusiasm undaunted by the gloomy weather or the green film painting the water’s surface.
Arms laden with damp wood, Amaranthe returned to the fire Basilard had coaxed to life. A canopy of evergreens over the camp provided some protection from the rain. The flames bathed a rusty iron tripod, which supported a pot where beans simmered. Basilard manned a skillet, turning sausages, beans, and onions into something that smelled far more delectable than one would expect.
Maldynado and Books wrestled with poles and a tarp, fashioning a tent beside the lorry. Inside the cab, Akstyr read his book in the fading daylight. Sicarius had disappeared as soon as they arrived “to scout.”
“Boss,” Maldynado said, “how come some of us are working hard and some of us are reading books?”
Amaranthe set down her load of logs and arranged them in a tidy pile while she debated the merit of the complaint. Akstyr did have a predilection for reading his books instead of helping out; in fact, those tomes seemed to get especially interesting when physical labor needed to be done. He was a tricky one to manage, whining and shirking duties when assigned them. Since he bristled at receiving orders, she always felt she had to find creative ways to coerce him. Maybe guilt today?
“Because,” Amaranthe said, “some of you like me more than others and go out of your way to make my day easier.”
“Sicarius isn’t helping,” Akstyr said without looking up.
She opened her mouth to point out Sicarius did his share to make her day easier, but Books spoke first.
“Is he truly someone you want to emulate? Maybe it’s time you grew up and shared group responsibilities without being asked.”
Akstyr glared over his shoulder. “You think you’re my father? I didn’t ask for your advice.”
Books blanched, and Amaranthe grimaced, sure the words made him think of the days when he had been a father and how all that was lost. She was going to have a hard time keeping him in the group if all the interactions with the men were unpleasant ones.
“Can you even understand any of the words in that book?” Maldynado asked. “Or do you just carry it around, pretending to be useful, so you can get out of chores?”
“I understand plenty. I’m learning about healing. Don’t you think that could be useful out here?”
Maldynado staked down a tent corner. “You don’t actually believe you’d be able to do anything in an emergency, do you? Learning magic from a book? Come now, let’s be serious.”
Akstyr scowled. “I can do things.”
“We don’t ever see you do things.”
“Because it’s the empire, Stupid. You get hanged for practicing the Science.”
Amaranthe strode to the lorry and draped her arms across the side of the bed, trying to nonchalantly end the bickering before it escalated. “Looks like Basilard’s preparing a nice dinner, gentlemen. The sooner we have
