Blood and Betrayal ee-5

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Why is it a sore subject?” Books asked.

  “Because I’m-”

  “Disowned, yes, but why? For all we know, you’re dying for a chance to prove yourself to your family and get invited back into the clan. If I recall my recent history, your kin control copious resources. They’re not one of those wealthy-in-land-only warrior-caste families. Should you be welcomed back, you’d be able to return to leading an indolent lifestyle. How do we know you wouldn’t betray the emperor if it meant putting your brother on the throne? Maybe said brother would reward you handsomely for your loyalty.”

  “And maybe I’d be an utter ass if I betrayed the team, and the boss, and set Sespian up to get killed,” Maldynado said. “Besides, if you have a face this pretty, you can lead an indolent lifestyle wherever you go. I don’t need my brother’s help for that.”

  Though Books snorted, a hint of a smile softened his face. Maybe he wanted to believe Maldynado, but couldn’t get past his assumptions about the warrior caste and those born into it.

  “It may be as you say,” Books said, “but I’m not the one you need to convince. From my talk with the emperor, I understood you were ambivalent about sharing details on your family members. You need to choose whether to help him fully… or not. I don’t necessarily approve of unthinking obeisance, but that is in the warrior-caste code, isn’t it? That you must be first and foremost loyal to the emperor? Family comes second, at least according to the various historical precedents. In the fifth century, Lady Dalecrest, upon learning that her husband had sold military secrets to the Nurians, risked her and her children’s lives to inform the emperor.”

  “Great example,” Maldynado said dryly. “Yes, Lady Dalecrest warned the emperor, but, after the forces had left to thwart the Nurian incursion, her husband found her and strangled her.”

  “Unfortunate, but the Nurians were stopped. This story is told to warrior-caste children to explain what’s expected of them, is it not?”

  Maldynado couldn’t believe Books, of all people, was saying he should embrace the warrior-caste, honor-in-death mentality. “I don’t want to get strangled, Books.” Nor did he want to further disappoint his family. When had his life grown so complicated?

  “I’m sure that won’t happen if you assist Sespian,” Books said. Maldynado was on the verge of feeling better when Books added, “Your neck is very thick and muscular. They’d simply shoot you.”

  “That’s much better, thanks.”

  At least Books smiled. Maybe joking was his way of saying he believed the story about the dirigible. Or maybe Maldynado was being wistful.

  “I’m back,” came Sespian’s voice from a couple of scrap piles away.

  He eased into sight, a hand lifted, as if he expected overly vigilant mercenaries to accidentally shoot him. As if Maldynado would shoot anyone wearing such a handsome azure tunic and stylish gray breeches, both with the perfect touch of golden accent embroidery. The wig, beard, and mustache, all dark black and bushy, were a new addition. Maldynado decided not to tell Sespian that he looked far too young to have that much facial hair. Maybe people wouldn’t look too closely.

  “I’ve retrieved the agreed upon reward money.” Sespian pulled a heavy strongbox out of a satchel, gave it to Books, and clasped his hands behind his back. “I thank you for your assistance thus far, and, in particular for removing that device in my neck.” A shudder ran through him. He nodded to Books. “I also thank you for the information you gave me. I will be continuing on my own now.”

  “Wait, Sire. I… ” Maldynado glanced at Books. “I have information for you. About my family.”

  Sespian’s eyebrows twitched upward. “And you are offering it in trade for…?”

  Maldynado opened his mouth, wanting to say that he’d share everything if Sespian would agree to keep the team onboard and let them help, but Books spoke first. “Nothing, Sire,” he said. “He- we — want you to have every advantage going forward.”

  “I see,” Sespian said, and Maldynado wasn’t sure if he believed the line.

  Maldynado only shrugged. “I found out yesterday that Mari, Ravido’s wife is on her way downriver on the Glacial Empress and will be staying on Rabbit Island. She’ll arrive tomorrow night.”

  “Rabbit Island?” Sespian asked.

  “Yes.” Though they couldn’t see the river from this side of the city, Maldynado waved to the northeast, indicating that the island was upstream. Maybe Sespian wasn’t familiar with the area. “It seems she’s been collecting strange black artifacts. She has an entrepreneurial streak as well, so it’s possible she’s behind Ravido’s interest in dealing with Forge. She may even be the one driving him toward this coup attempt. Rust, it might be my father too. As I said before, I don’t know Ravido well, but I don’t think this is a scheme that would have come to him without outside urging.”

  “I see,” Sespian said again, doing an annoyingly good job of hiding his thoughts.

  “I just thought you should know.” Maldynado lifted a hand, palm up. “She’d be worth talking to if you’re looking for information on the family, especially Ravido.”

  Sespian listened to everything, then turned and, hands still clasped behind his back, started walking. At first, Maldynado thought he was fed up with them and meant to walk away from the team forever. But the emperor chose a circular route. He wasn’t walking away; he was pacing.

  Maldynado shared a hopeful shrug with Books.

  “You say you just learned this information?” Sespian asked, a suspicious note in his tone.

  Ugh, couldn’t Maldynado find respite? Why did things keep happening in a way that made him look disreputable?

  “We ran into his cousin on the waterfront shopping street yesterday, Sire.” Yara stepped out from behind the lorry, her short hair sticking out in half a dozen directions. “I believe the meeting was unplanned. Maldynado appeared to be getting the information for the first time.”

  Maldynado crossed his arms over his chest and kept himself from saying, “Good watchdog, good girl.” Barely.

  “Thank you, Sergeant.” Sespian gave Yara a single nod, which she returned.

  Hm. Maybe it was good that Maldynado had kept the snide comment to himself. This wasn’t the first time Sespian had shown that he valued Yara’s council. Amaranthe had said they’d met before, hadn’t she? She must have planned this, for Yara to act as a neutral third party, one that Sespian knew he could trust to be impartial, or perhaps even more loyal to him than to the team. It was helping Maldynado now, so he sent a silent thank-you to Amaranthe, wherever she was at the moment.

  Several long moments passed with Sespian standing still, his chin on his fist as he gazed at the dirt. “Mari Marblecrest is whom I seek,” he finally said.

  Maldynado blinked.

  “Do you mean that, all along, you planned to speak to Mari Marblecrest, Sire?” Books asked.

  “Spy on, not speak to, but yes.”

  “Truly? You think my sister-in-law is important somehow?” Maldynado almost choked on the word important, given that he was applying it to a salacious, self-absorbed woman who had, at more than one family get-together, chased him around the kitchen island and through the servants’ quarters, trying to tear off his clothes.

  “Her importance in the organization is questionable,” Sespian said, “but I’ve learned that, of all the Forge members traveling downstream to their meeting spot, she’s the only one unlikely to hide her passing.”

  Maldynado snorted. “If by that you mean that she travels with ten servants and twenty suitcases, then I agree.”

  “That, and I understand she’s stopping to shop on the way.” Sespian raised his eyebrows.

  Maldynado thought of the black sphere. Shopping indeed.

  “Is this secret meeting where they’ll be discussing their plans for the fiscal future of the empire?” Books asked.

  Fiscal, what? Oh, right, the emperor had volunteered for a lecture on economics.

  “I believe so, yes,” Sespi
an said. “This may also be the first opportunity to spy on the leaders all together. Heretofore they’ve been clandestine with their correspondences.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Books said. “I’ve been trying to get the names of everyone, or at least the key people, in the organization for months. Despite my considerable research skill, I’ve been unable to pinpoint the founders.”

  “Considerable research skill,” Maldynado said. “Nice modesty, Booksie.”

  “I know you aren’t disparaging me on a lack of humility. When was the last time you managed to get through a conversation without stroking your chest and touting your physical attributes?”

  “Are they always like this?” Sespian asked.

  At first, Maldynado didn’t know whom he’d addressed, but Basilard had hopped out of the lorry. Only Akstyr remained inside, snores reverberating through the junkyard.

  Basilard nodded firmly in response to the emperor’s question. Amaranthe keeps them from killing each other.

  Maldynado translated for the emperor.

  Sespian frowned and repeated one of the gestures. “That’s your symbol for Corporal Lokdon? Someone sweeping? Why? Because she’s a woman and you think that’s woman’s work?”

  No, Basilard signed, because she… He must have realized the emperor couldn’t understand him, because he started doing an imitation of Amaranthe, first sweeping, then straightening Yara’s sweater and brushing away lint, and finally taking out a knife and tidying the stubble on Books’s jaw-too bad he didn’t actually scrape some of the grunge away.

  The acting show made Yara smirk, but Sespian didn’t seem appeased.

  “She tends to clean, organize, and tidy when she’s concocting a scheme,” Maldynado said. “Or worrying about a scheme that she’s set into motion.”

  “Hm,” Sespian said.

  “She likes to do those things. We don’t make her do them.”

  “You simply reap the benefits of her voluntary labor?” Sespian asked.

  “Yes. I mean, er… ” Arms spread wide, Maldynado beseeched Books for help. How in the empire had he ended up defending himself when Basilard was the one who’d made up the sign?

  “You said the secret meeting was downstream, is that correct, Sire?” Books said. “But you don’t know the final destination yet? You’re hoping to find out where from this Mari? Or one of her servants?”

  Relieved to have the topic changed, Maldynado threw Books a grateful nod.

  “I’m hoping not to be seen by her or her servants,” Sespian said. “I want to follow her to the destination without Mari or anyone from Forge finding out. They’ll speak freely if they have no reason to believe anyone outside of the organization is listening. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get close when I had that tracking device in my neck, but now… Ah, actually, I’m still not sure how I’m going to get close.” He shrugged sheepishly.

  Maldynado relaxed an iota. He liked Sespian better when he appeared uncertain. Given his age, that was normal. When he was trying to hold back his thoughts, he reminded Maldynado of Sicarius. That struck him as odd- nobody was like Sicarius-but his mind kept coming back to the idea, regardless.

  “Perhaps I can visit my dear sister-in-law and extract information on her destination for you.” Maldynado dreaded the idea of speaking with Mari, especially without a kitchen table between them, but if it kept Sespian working with the team… he judged it an improvement over the tie-up-the-emperor-and-hope-he-didn’t-hold-it-against-them option he’d been considering before. “She might not think it odd that I’d come to see her, not after what Cousin Lita said.”

  Sespian tilted his head. “What else did she say?”

  “Something about my father. Did I… not mention that?”

  “No, you didn’t,” Books said.

  Er, maybe Maldynado shouldn’t have voiced his addendum. “It seems Father has extended an offer to, er, re — own me if I come help with family business.”

  Everyone stared at him. Huh, Yara must not have heard that part.

  “Business such as overthrowing the throne?” Sespian asked.

  “I don’t know, but I wasn’t planning on accepting the offer. Though I could tell Mari I’m contemplating it as a reason for visiting her.”

  The slit-eyed suspiciousness had returned to Sespian’s face. Even Books was regarding him with speculation again. Maldynado sighed. Why couldn’t everyone just trust him? If they knew his family, they’d understand why he’d rather run around with outlaws, but he wouldn’t inflict his relatives on anyone.

  “Look,” Maldynado said, “you don’t have to go onto Rabbit Island with me. Mari’s arriving on the Glacial Empress, so I imagine she’ll be continuing downriver, at least for a while, on the steamboat. I can be your distraction while you sneak aboard.”

  “According to my research,” Sespian said, “sneaking aboard may not be easy. Rabbit Island is a private, warrior-caste-only resort with a guarded boat dock, and, if rumors are to be believed, there are domesticated alligators in the water to deter anyone from swimming over.”

  Maldynado hadn’t been there, but he supposed that was all possible.

  “Assuming your former warrior-caste status gets you in,” Books said, with an eyebrow raise that suggested he doubted the guards would let Maldynado pass, “how do you propose to divert the guards so we can slip by without being shot? Or even get close to the island, for that matter?”

  “How do I propose…?”

  “It’s your plan.”

  “Uhm.”

  “Careful,” Books said, “you’ll overwhelm us with such a profuse outpouring of details.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d turn your sarcasm toward someone else. I’m busy thinking.” Maldynado stalked away. Just when he’d been feeling grateful to Books for helping him with Sespian, he had to go back to being a stuffy, sourpuss.

  Though Maldynado was of a mind to keep walking, and leave the junkyard, he didn’t know where he’d go. How did Amaranthe manage to come up with plans while dancing barefoot on a frying pan?

  Someone tapped Maldynado on the shoulder. He spun around, prepared to unleash a stream of vitriol-or perhaps a fist-if Books had followed him to give him a hard time. It was only Basilard.

  He signed, Do you need help?

  “Probably. Bas, up until a few days ago, I felt like we were all brothers, family if you will, a family I actually liked, most of the time. But now I’m the outcast all over again.”

  Sometimes, friendships are tested. You will survive and all will be well again.

  “I appreciate the faith, especially since you’re the only one giving it right now, but I don’t know what to do with all of these expectations.” Maldynado scraped his fingers through his curly hair. “I don’t know if I’m made from enough steel to handle them. My mother used to call me the family weed. Maybe she was right. I wasn’t born with leadership qualities. I don’t know how to walk in front. Not like Amaranthe. Not like Sicarius. Rust, even Books would be able to get everyone going in the same direction without sarcastic quips from the troops.”

  Basilard regarded him for a long moment, no judgment in his pale blue eyes. Somehow, despite the scars, the bulky muscles, and the morose downturn to his lips, Basilard managed to convey much more compassion than most people. My grandpa used to say that the only difference between a weed and a plant is that one has proved itself useful while the other’s properties are still in question.

  “All right,” Maldynado said, “I’ll come up with something.”

  Chapter 6

  Maldynado strolled into the junkyard before sunset with a new set of shopping bags dangling from his arms. More business cards stuffed his pockets as well. He vowed to slide some under the doors of suites in the Rabbit Island resort. Maybe he’d foisted a few onto Mari too. The woman dearly loved her shopping.

  Maldynado weaved past the towering piles of wreckage and debris until he found the purloined lorry. Several hours had passed since he’d left to come up
with his big plan, and he wasn’t sure everyone would be around for his return, but Books, Sespian, Basilard, and Yara were all present, their heads bent in some conference. Akstyr sat against a tire at the rear of the vehicle, a book the size of an infantryman’s shield propped open in his lap. How he’d managed to keep from losing that amidst all the train explosions and dirigible crashes, Maldynado couldn’t guess, though singe marks did decorate the corners. More concerned about what the rest of the team was doing-or planning-he hustled toward them, rattling his bags for attention.

  “Shopping again?” Yara scowled at him from where she sat cross-legged on the lorry’s covered engine compartment. She still wore her dirt-stained sweater and trousers, even though he’d bargained for those clean, curve-enhancing garments for her the day before. Well, if the team accepted his plan, she’d have to wear his more recent acquisition. It would enhance a lot more than curves.

  “Indeed so.” Maldynado set one of the bags beside her. “I’ve come up with a plan to get us all to the docks without being shot.”

  “We wondered if you’d decided to back out,” Sespian said. He was seated on a rusty beam across from Basilard, who was cutting the roots off a stack of weeds-knowing him, they were for the stew pot.

  “Of course, not,” Maldynado said. “I simply needed time to refine-”

  “ Silk?” Yara held up a midnight blue dress. “And, and, what is this? Jewelry? Have you gone mad?”

  Basilard smirked. Perhaps the garments aren’t for Sergeant Yara. They don’t seem her style.

  “Who else would a dress be for?” Akstyr asked.

  The emperor? Basilard’s smirk widened. That might be an effective way to disguise him.