“The boat crews may simply have stopped to grab a meal and refuel. Those two were probably sent out to start up the engines. The rest of their squad could be out shortly.”
Evrial mentioned the squad to discourage Maldynado from the theft idea, but he brightened and said, “Good.”
“Good?”
“If they get the boilers heated up, it won’t take but a moment for us to abscond with a boat.” Maldynado winked. “Maybe we won’t need anything so dramatic as a fire.”
“Whatever you’re planning to do better be soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Maldynado strolled away from the window, hands clasped behind his back, his boots stirring shreds of cigar paper and dried tobacco leaves on the floor. He paused to eye the cleaning-supply cart speculatively, but thankfully moved on, passing the long tables and heading to the front of the room. A desk full of books and newspapers rested on a raised platform.
“Hah.” Maldynado tapped a fat tome. “If our revolution doesn’t go as planned, here’s a back-up job for Books. He can be the lector who reads to the bored blokes rolling cigars all day.” Something on one of the newspapers must have caught his eye, for he picked it up and carried it to a window to read by the fading light.
Evrial walked toward the back of the building, passing crates of dried tobacco stamped with plantation logos from the southern satrap. Maybe if she found a suitable distraction, she could prevent him from doing something overly destructive.
Her foot struck an empty box, causing it to skid across the floor and stop in front of a mechanical contraption standing in the corner. Evrial eyed the machine. It had a vaguely humanoid shape, except that its cylindrical body rested on wheels instead of legs. A small boiler and furnace made up the torso, and the pair of “arms” extending from its shoulders had spatula-like hands, perhaps for lifting boxes. A harness crossed the body, and hooks dangled down its back, so she imagined it could pull cargo too. An ash bin and a box of coal also sat on the floor in the corner. She squinted at the operating instructions on the machine’s side.
“Handsome fellow,” Maldynado said, strolling up and rapping his knuckles on the metal form. “But you’re not already bored with me, are you?”
Evrial ignored the question and asked, “Do you think you can fire up this thing?”
“Naturally.”
“Before the enforcers finish firing up their boats and sail away?”
“Er.” Maldynado peeped out the window. “Probably?”
“Do it. I have an idea.”
“Another woman in my life who’s going to give me orders? How did I get signed up for that?” Maldynado’s flippant words—and mock-military salute—didn’t reach his face. He frowned at the newspaper, then stuffed it into his shirt before opening the door in the machine’s “chest” and picking up the coal shovel.
“Is that today’s paper?” Evrial headed for the cleaning cart. “Is there something I should know about in it?”
“Something the boss should know about.” Maldynado eyed the nearest window—and the enforcers on the dock outside of it—while he readied the firebox. “Satrap Governor, and potential heir to the throne, Lord Heroncrest has captured one of the railways into Stumps and is trying to transport in loyal troops. Lord General Flintcrest is coming up the river, apparently with similar aspirations. And my ambitious brother has officially declared martial law, locked down the city, and set up check points to inspect every boat, train, carriage, donkey cart, and children’s push wagon attempting to enter Stumps.”
“That’s...” Evrial couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t be an understatement. “I can’t believe how fast this is all happening. Sespian’s reputed death was only a couple of weeks ago.”
“Publicly speaking. Ravido and Forge have obviously been planning that death for a long time and had plenty of time to act.” Maldynado struck a flame in the firebox. “The speed with which Flintcrest and Heroncrest got all those troops together makes you wonder if they had some warning too. Or were already planning something.”
Evrial grabbed the cleaning cart and pushed it toward Maldynado’s corner. “If Lokdon and the others are still on that steamboat when it approaches Stumps...”
“Yup, an extra degree of trouble. Another reason to catch up to that boat and warn them that walking in across the fields might be best.” Maldynado straightened. “Fire’s lit. It’s a little boiler—should heat up quickly. What’s the plan here?” He eyed the matches in his hand, as if he was already considering arson as a backup plan.
Evrial hooked the cart up to the machine’s harness. “I thought we’d start this up, let it roll around, banging into things and making noise. The enforcers should hear it and come to investigate, especially since it’s getting dark and the factory is closed for the day. What do you think?”
Maldynado scratched his jaw. “That you’re new at this.”
“Sorry, I don’t have your gang’s experience for molesting enforcers. What’s the problem?”
“They’re not going to hear that way over there. These are brick walls.”
“I’ll look around for something noisier we can attach.” Evrial scowled at Maldynado’s dubious expression. “If you’re so sure this ideal will fail, why’re you still shoveling coal in there?”
“Well, I figured we could blow up the boiler. They’d hear that.”
Evrial threw up her hands and stalked to a row of cabinets lining the back wall. “How did you avoid becoming an outlaw earlier in life?”
“I was warrior-caste until recently, remember. Lords can get away with a lot.”
“Yes,” Evrial grumbled. “I attempted to arrest a perverted and criminal lord once and found out how little the law applies to those people. I hope Books’s new government plan involves an empire in which people are treated equally in the eyes of the law.”
“I doubt he’ll propose anything that radical. Not outright. Who would back him? Aside from us? We’re certainly an impressive bunch of individuals, but we’re no army.” Maldynado checked the window again. “There’s smoke coming from the vents on those boats. Better hurry with whatever addendum to the plan you’re making.”
Evrial dragged empty paint cans out of a cabinet and tied them onto the back of the laundry cart. Maldynado was wrong. This would make a racket, and those enforcers would feel compelled to investigate.
He ticked a gauge on the machine. “This beast’s ready to roll.”
Fingers flying as she tied the last can, Evrial said, “Done in a second. Make it go.”
“Right.” The gloom had deepened and Maldynado groped about the machine.
“There’s a lever to your right,” Evrial said, having read the instructions earlier.
Maldynado yanked it, and Evrial lifted her arms, the last can tied on. The machine clink-clanked forward, wheels rolling, and promptly ran into one of the tables.
“Oh, yes,” Maldynado said. “This is a brilliant plan.”
“We’ll just—”
The door creaked open, brightening the back of the factory. A squat woman with gray hair wrapped into a bun strode into the building before Evrial could do more than drop her hand to her waist—where her knife or sword would have hung if she hadn’t been dumped overboard.
“What is this?” the woman demanded, her voice so accented that it was hard to understand. “What you do to my cart? Why porter running? Why you here?”
“Pardon us, ma’am,” Maldynado said smoothly, stepping past Evrial and bowing deeply to the woman. “We—”
“Stay away, big man.” The woman grabbed a broom and swung it at Maldynado’s head with the practiced mien of one who has swatted many mice out of the kitchen.
Maldynado ducked and skittered back. At least he didn’t seem predisposed toward attacking old women, even in self-defense.
While they were busy, Evrial gave the machine a heave, trying to redirect it. It proved heavier than expected and kept bumping against the workstation.
“Ouch, listen, ma�
��am,” Maldynado tried again. “We’re just—”
Glass shattered. The broom going through the window, or perhaps the woman had hurled something at Maldynado’s head?
Evrial’s fingers bumped against a wheel. Ah, that was for steering. She rotated it, and the contraption spun in a new direction. She gave it another heave, and it clink-clanked around the corner and started down the long aisle by the windows. The cleaning supplies rattled in their cart, and the paint cans banged and clanged.
On the docks, someone had lit lanterns, so Evrial had no trouble making out the enforcers. The two men had climbed of their boats and were squinting toward the cigar factory.
“Don’t touch me. Molester!” Another window succumbed to the cleaning woman’s misdirected ire.
“Woman,” Maldynado growled, finally slipping past the flailing broom to grab her by the arms. “Stop—”
An eardrum-piercing shriek escaped the woman’s lips. That did it.
“The enforcers are coming,” Evrial said, wondering if Maldynado would hear her over the continuing shrieks. “We have to go now if we’re going to get—”
“Right behind you.” Maldynado, still gripping the woman with both hands, jerked his chin toward the alley door.
Evrial hesitated, wondering if she should be concerned that he’d do something untoward to his screaming prisoner, but, no, she didn’t believe Maldynado had an old-lady-mauling streak in him. She raced out the door and into the alley. Instead of heading for the street, she crept around the waterfront side of the building, pushing through weeds and dead leaves. She would have been visible from the docks, but the enforcers were pounding up the road at that point. The shrieks from inside halted, though the clanks continued as the steam-machine clattered about, bumping into things.
When the enforcers disappeared around the front of the cigar factory, Evrial continued through the tall grass, hoping Maldynado would catch up. He better have gotten out before the enforcers charged in... All this had been his idea. She had no urge to steal a boat by herself. Or at all, for that matter.
She ducked under the first dock and, after making sure the enforcers truly had gone inside, hopped onto the second. Unfortunately, the noise had drawn curious pedestrians as well, and more than one eating house door stood open with people peering outside. Fortunately, they were looking toward the cigar factory, not the docks. Evrial ran to the end, glancing back to see if she could spot Maldynado and grimacing when she couldn’t. The shadows had deepened along the waterfront. Maybe the weeds were camouflaging him.
Smoke wafted from the vents of both boats. Evrial untied the first craft from the dock, hoping it would float away on its own. The enforcers ought to be able to catch up to it eventually, but not in time to use it to chase their other boat. As Evrial hopped onto the deck of the second craft, the shrieks resumed in the factory. Good. The woman wasn’t dead or unconscious—and she certainly hadn’t suffered any injuries to those powerful lungs.
Evrial climbed past weapons mounted on the deck and into the covered navigation cabin. She halted in the middle, frowning at all the levers and gauges. In her rural district, she’d never had occasion to pilot anything fancier than a rowboat, and she didn’t know where to start.
“Check the boiler,” she muttered and rotated toward the back half of the cabin. Even the boiler had a complicated-looking wall of gauges and displays. “Is that the pressure? Or that? Maldynado, blast you, where are you?”
What was she supposed to do if he didn’t show up?
Something struck the boat, tossing Evrial against the wall. “Emperor’s balls,” she growled and stuck her head out of the cabin, fearing the enforcers had already returned and launched some attack. It was the other boat, though, the one she’d untied. It scraped against hers as it floated past.
Up on the street, the enforcers jogged out of the factory. One promptly spotted Evrial—or perhaps the boat drifting away from its berth. He raised a hand and shouted, “Stop!”
“Emperor’s balls,” Evrial repeated, tempted to fling harsher expletives, except she was too busy lunging for the rope tying her boat to the dock. If she floated away, that’d give her time to figure out the controls, so long as she wasn’t swept downstream to crash into a log first.
The enforcers sprinted down the street toward the docks. There wasn’t going to be time to simply float away.
“Curse you, Maldynado. Where—”
Something bumped against the boat.
“Now what?” Evrial demanded. The other craft had drifted into the river. It couldn’t be that.
A dark form slithered over the side of the craft not three feet away from her. If Evrial had possessed a sword, she might have skewered it.
“Hullo, my lady,” Maldynado drawled, rolling onto the deck at her feet. “Thanks for waiting. Shall we get going?”
“Go!” Before he’d found his feet, Evrial shoved him into the cabin.
She hoped he had a better idea as to what to do in there than she had. Meanwhile, she finished untying the rope as the enforcers rounded the corner and ran onto the dock. Evrial tried to shove off with her boot, but the heavy craft scarcely moved an inch.
One of the enforcers stopped, raising a crossbow.
Evrial dove into the cabin with Maldynado. He sat in front of the wheel, whistling as his soggy clothes dripped puddles of water onto the floor.
“Some alacrity here would be good,” Evrial said. “Those enforcers are going to be on top of us any second.” A crossbow quarrel whistled into the cabin and into the glass viewport. A crack sounded as it shot straight through, leaving a fractured web in the glass. Evrial jumped away from the entrance. Why weren’t there any cursed weapons inside the cabin?
A surge coursed through the boat, and hope filled her. “Are we moving? Is that the propeller?” She grabbed the jamb and peered outside.
They were indeed pulling away from the dock, but only a few feet separated them from the end. One enforcer, the crossbowman who’d fallen behind to shoot, stopped to fire again. Meanwhile the other fellow reached the end of the dock and leaped off without hesitation. The quarrel skipped harmlessly off the cabin’s roof, but the leaping man had the momentum to reach the boat. They’d have to fight after all. Evrial almost stepped outside, hoping she could knock him away before he landed, but the other enforcer had the crossbow raised for another shot. He must have a quad-loader.
Maldynado brushed past her and flung something. A wooden life ring spun through the air and hammered the enforcer in the chest a heartbeat before he would have caught the edge of the boat. He grunted, and his arms flew out. He smacked into the side of the boat and bounced off. Maldynado disappeared back into the cabin, shoved a lever, and white water churned in the propeller’s wake. The enforcer came up, sputtering and cursing. The man left on the dock loosed a last crossbow quarrel, but it flew wide. Maldynado steered into the center of the river, and they were soon cutting through the current, heading upstream into the growing darkness.
“If you’re so inclined,” Maldynado said, as calm as a turtle basking on a log, “you could search for some dry clothes. Think there’s any chance we borrowed those men’s travel kits as well as their boat?”
“I’ll look,” Evrial said. “What took you so long?”
“That old lady was tougher than Sicarius’s nasty meat bars, and I had trouble escaping her. Finally had to stuff her in a cabinet. But the enforcers were bursting into the factory by then and saw me run out. Figured I better jump into the river rather than leading them straight back to you.” Maldynado plucked at his sodden shirt. “My wardrobe has taken a considerable beating on this adventure. I haven’t seen my hat since my first plunge into the river. That was a fine hat too.”
As he rambled on, Evrial poked about inside the cabin. A cupboard held clothes, food, and canteens. She laid out salami, crackers, and a block of goat geese for them to share, then flopped into the seat beside Maldynado.
“I’m trying to decide if I should be alarmed a
t how adept you are at stealing vehicles,” Evrial said.
“Adept? Didn’t you see that old lady nearly take my eye out with her broom?”
“Yes, but you thought quickly when that enforcer jumped after us. And you knew how to steer the boat away—have you been in one of these before?”
“Not this particular model, but I’ve driven steam launches. And all sorts of steam carriages and lorries for the boss. Some of them even survived the experience.” His eyes rolled upward as he considered something. “Yes, one at least. I think.”
Evrial cut slices of salami for each of them, letting Maldynado concentrate on piloting. The scattered house lamps on the properties above the banks didn’t do much to illuminate the darkening river. “Well, you have a knack. I wouldn’t have expected a warrior-caste man who didn’t join the military to be good at anything more than ordering servants around and perhaps sports dueling.”
“I’m skilled in at least one other area. As you now know firsthand.” Maldynado gave her a sidelong look that shouldn’t have been visible in the dark cabin, but her imagination filled it in without trouble, and she blushed.
Evrial’s first thought was to deny he had any such skill, but her own responses the night before had been too enthusiastic to make such a comment plausible now. “I’d already heard about that area. I understand that has little to do with your warrior-caste background and more to do with your previous… profession, prior to meeting Lokdon.”
“Er, what?” His smug tone vanished. “I mean, who told you about... what were you told?”
“Akstyr said you used to be a male prostitute.”
“Prostitute! I was an escort. I accompanied ladies and successful businesswomen to social events. That’s all.”
“I see,” Evrial said. “And these social events never involved after-hours entertainment?”
“Well, naturally, I’d escort women wherever they wished to go for the evening, but I didn’t get paid for events that happened, er, off-the-clock as it were. And I have standards. It wasn’t like I’d sleep with any old crone.”
“Hm,” Evrial said, trying to decide if she should feel honored or not that she’d met his standards.
Beneath the Surface Page 16