Forged in Blood II (54 page)

Sicarius wondered if he should say or do something for her. And if so, what? He squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture with a smile for him.

“Well, I never thought anybody would sacrifice anything for me,” Akstyr said. “How do you… What do you do if you’re not sure their, uhm, sacrifice… was worth it?”

“You
make
it worth it.” Amaranthe looked like she might say more, but she closed her mouth, letting him figure out what her words meant.

He studied the snow at his feet. After a time, he said, “All right.”

An improvement over his whatevers.

Amaranthe must have found the response acceptable, too, for she patted Akstyr’s arm. “Have you heard anything about… Well, with the gangs decimated, I hope nobody will be worrying about that bounty. Do you know if your mother is still…?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Akstyr pulled an envelope out of his pocket. With some bemusement, Sicarius wondered when he’d stopped worrying the boy might be pulling out a weapon to use on him. Akstyr held out the envelope for Amaranthe. “Professor Komitopis gave it to me. I guess someone mentioned to her that I wanted to study the Science at the Polytechnic.”

Amaranthe opened the envelope, revealing tickets for a westbound train along with a berth on an ocean liner heading to the Kyatt Islands.

“I’m leaving in two days,” Akstyr said. “The professor said I could stay with her family while I study. She said her mother still cooks up piles of food for all the hands and wouldn’t hardly notice if one more person showed up at the dinner table, and…” Distracted by something, his words trailed off. He was peering toward the Starcrest family, his eyes alighting not on his fifty-year-old benefactor, but on her youngest daughter.

“Two days?” Amaranthe looked at him, then toward Basilard, chagrin in her eyes. “I…” She focused on Akstyr again. “I mean, that’s wonderful. I know that this is your dream, and I’m sure you’ll be safe there. I heard this morning that the enforcers are already routing out the remains of the gangs. There’s talk of finally renovating the old part of the city, getting it on the sewer and making sure the people living there have the same educational opportunities as everyone else.”

Akstyr, having failed to catch the young woman’s eyes, pulled his attention back to Amaranthe and waved dismissal. “Same educational opportunities as other Turgonians maybe, but I’m sure it’ll still be forbidden to study the mental sciences.”

“I wouldn’t be certain about that. If Starcrest does indeed get elected to office, at least one of his children practices the mental sciences.” She grimaced and rubbed her forehead at some memory; Sicarius would have to get the details of what had happened while he’d been ensnared by the Nurian. “He might push for some reform in that area too.”

“Maybe so, but the population won’t be quick to accept that. Superstitious donkey lickers. I won’t be in a hurry to come back here.”

“Ah,” Amaranthe said.

Akstyr, displaying surprising percipience for him, noticed her downcast expression. “But you could visit Kyatt, right? You don’t have any reason to stay here either, do you? I could show you around.” Akstyr glanced at the hand Amaranthe still had clamped around Sicarius’s, then added, “Uhm, both of you,” though he didn’t quite meet Sicarius’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Amaranthe said. “I’d like that.”

Akstyr, his gaze drawn back to the Starcrests again, said, “I’m going to go see how long she’s—I mean they’re—going to be staying and if they’re going back to Kyatt for their studies…”

Amaranthe started to walk in that direction, too, and Sicarius wondered if he might talk to Starcrest while she chatted with whoever was next on her list. He could certainly make that happen if he released her hand, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to yet. Later perhaps, when he’d grown used to the idea that she’d return to reclaim it if they parted.

As if she could guess his thoughts, Amaranthe paused and gazed up at him. “I’m sorry, I’m dragging you all over the place. Would you prefer to find a nice tree to lurk beside?”

“Perhaps later.”

“I just want to make sure and see everyone before… Akstyr’s leaving in two days. Dear ancestors, I never thought I’d miss the boy, but he’s finally getting interesting.”

“If that is true—” Sicarius didn’t know if he’d go so far as to deem Akstyr interesting, “—then you have made him so.”

Amaranthe leaned against him. “We’ll see them again, right? Basilard and Akstyr? This almost feels like losing Books all over again.”

Sicarius had no way of divining the future, and anything he said would be useless conjecture, so he did not speak. But he wrapped his arms loosely about her, in case that would lend comfort.

Amaranthe turned her head to rest it against his collarbone. “
You’re
not leaving me anytime soon, are you?”

“No.” He waited until she snuggled close to add, “Who, then, would cut my hair?”

She snorted and swatted him on the chest. “Nobody, and don’t forget it. You look quite dapper today.”

The crunch of footprints alerted Sicarius to others’ approach long before the pair drew close—he’d noted their arrival a few minutes prior in a second steam carriage parked farther down the hill. But at the noise, Amaranthe turned.

“Good day, Deret. And Ms. Curlev. Thank you for coming.”

Mancrest and the Forge woman stood as one with their arms linked, each wearing expensive fur coats snugged up to their necks. Though it seemed Mancrest had found a new love interest, Sicarius couldn’t help but feel pleased that Amaranthe had taken his hand again.

“Of course, Amaranthe,” Mancrest said. “I regret that there wasn’t time to get to know him better. I’m pleased to hear that much of his work is being incorporated into the new constitution.”

“Constitution.” Curlev smiled ruefully. “There’s a notion that’ll take time to grow accustomed to.”

“Are you finding it… if not exactly what Forge wanted, a fairer government paradigm than what we’ve had for the last seven hundred years?” Amaranthe asked.

“Oh, undoubtedly so,” Curlev said. “I don’t suppose you’ll believe this, but I had very little knowledge of what was going on with Forge back here these last ten years. When we were… dreaming it up, it was to be about scholarships to empower entrepreneurs and lobbying for equality for businesses in the eyes of the law. What it became… I’ll regret the loss of so many of my colleagues, of course—” she threw a quick, wary glance at Sicarius, “—but I’m not positive you did the world a disservice.”

Sicarius noticed that Maldynado was still standing in front of Starcrest, gesturing vigorously while Yara stood back and rolled her eyes toward the bare branches of a tree overhead. Squirrels ran across the boughs, no doubt hoping some of these humans had brought food.

Sicarius could guess as to the nature of the words accompanying Maldynado’s gestures. A man recovering from an injury should not have to suffer such inanity. Sicarius squeezed Amaranthe’s hand again before releasing it, then headed over to Starcrest.

“I’m not certain a president, having less absolute power than an emperor, should do something so megalomaniacal as having statues commissioned,” Starcrest was saying when Sicarius drew near.

“What? Of course, you should,” Maldynado said. “Surely, it’s your prerogative to redecorate during your time in office.”

“It’s premature to assume I’ll be the one to take that position, but what exactly would you like redecorated?”

Sicarius stopped behind Maldynado and folded his arms across his chest, trusting him to notice eventually. Starcrest had already acknowledged him with a small wave of his hand—the other hung in a sling across his torso.

“In this case, it’d be more of an
initial
decorating,” Maldynado said. “We’re building a new government building to replace the Barracks, right? Stumps is known for its statues, however decapitated many of them are. Don’t you think the square in front of this new building will need a sculpture or two? Visitors from all over the world will stop by. You’d want the destination to reflect our culture and our veneration for the heroes of old. And new heroes as well. Perhaps even one of the heroes who helped bring down the pretender emperor. One of the more
handsome
heroes that is. After all, you wouldn’t want to scare away those tourists by sticking up some dour-faced assassin.”

Yara had noticed Sicarius standing there, and he thought she might warn Maldynado to sew his lips shut, but she merely smirked and waited.

“Not that anyone would think an assassin heroic enough for a statue anyway,” Maldynado said. “People would probably come up in the middle of the night and drape washout paper all over it. Now if you want someone that would invite visitors into the building with a warm smile and a noble pose…”

Maldynado propped one hand on his hip and lifted his other to his forehead as he gazed toward a distant horizon. In turning toward that horizon, he finally noticed Sicarius standing behind him. He skittered backward, and his heel caught on an icy patch. He slapped his arms down, legs coming up in an unarmed combat fall designed to protect the body from injury, but the commotion irritated one of the squirrels overhead, and it fled from its branch. Clumps of snow fell in its wake, one sizable ball landing on Maldynado’s forehead.

“Oh, yes,” Yara chortled. “That’ll make a fine statue.”

Sicarius gazed coolly down at Maldynado. “Washout paper?”

“Er. Uhm. Yes, to
polish
it of course. To make sure it stays shiny.” Maldynado scrambled to his feet and offered Yara his arm. “My lady, I need to say a few words to my fallen comrade before the pyre lighter comes to free his spirit. Will you join me?”

“I better. Someone has to keep you from offending the spirits of the dead as well as the living.”

“Sicarius,” Starcrest said by way of a greeting when they were alone. Mostly alone. His wife and children stood nearby, talking to some of the other funeral attendees, while Akstyr lurked on the edge of the group, trying to muster the gumption to chat with the younger daughter.

“Sir.” Having only intended to rescue Starcrest from Maldynado, Sicarius hadn’t planned anything grand to say to the admiral. “Have you decided to take the position of president?”

“There’s a vote to be held in a few days, and I understand there are other candidates who are scrambling to make cases for themselves, but the limited time frame will make it difficult for them to become suitably known by the populace.”

“That is good,” Sicarius said. “You are what Turgonia needs now.”

“Hm. That’ll remain to be seen. At least Tikaya has allowed that a few years living here wouldn’t be the worst fate in the world. Either that or she feels guilty about objecting to living in Turgonia after I spent all these years in her homeland. Not much of a sacrifice admittedly. A very pleasant island once the people get over wanting to kill you. We will have to watch the girls carefully here. Imperial men are more forthright than Kyattese men, and I don’t tower so fearsomely over people here, insomuch as you can tower fearsomely once all your hair turns gray.”

Sicarius did not know how to respond to this effusion of familial material. He wondered if Starcrest would like to discuss one of his texts on strategies or perhaps new work that had been published in the field. Sicarius hadn’t found time to keep up to date this last year, but he’d been reading most of the publications by notable military professors and field officers before then. Would it be rude to suggest a detour in the conversation? He’d never cared about inflicting rudeness upon people before, but Starcrest was different.

“You seemed chipper at the state funeral this morning,” the admiral said.

Sicarius stared. “Chipper.”

“By your standards. There was an uncharacteristic springiness to your step.”

This was not the new course of conversation Sicarius had had in mind. Further, he found it disheartening that others had so easily read his mood. He’d kept his face neutral, as always, but springy steps? He’d never had to worry about such betrayals from his body before.

“Do I gather that you and your lady have found yourselves, after due consideration, as compatible as you’d hoped?”

Sicarius supposed he couldn’t respond with a question of his own along the lines of, “Sir, did you read Earnestcrest’s paper on insurgencies and counter-insurgencies, and did it influence your decisions at all as you sought to take control of the capital?” Instead he reverted to his simple, “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent,” Starcrest said. “What are your plans going forward? I regret that it may be difficult to place you in employment to the thro—presidency, if that is something you desire. At least for a time. Your work for Flintcrest, however inadvertent, did add once again to your notoriety, and the general population will not understand the concept of being under a practitioner’s control.”

“I understand. I had thought to take a break—” Sicarius glanced at Amaranthe, who seemed to be getting along fine with Mancrest and the Forge woman, “—a vacation regardless.”

Starcrest smiled. “I thought that might be the case.” With his good hand, he fished in his pocket, jangling something as he pulled it out. “Allow me to facilitate.”

“Sir?” Sicarius held his hand out when Starcrest made it clear he wished to give away the item.

A set of keys dropped into his palm. “Corporal Lokdon knows where it’s berthed. You’ll need to requisition some supplies and remove my daughter’s… collections—and please take care not to kill anything she has caged, cached, or otherwise netted up in there. There’s a technical manual full of operating instructions—I have a Kyattese gentleman to thank for that, as they insist on documenting everything over there—and I’m confident that you’ll be able to master them quickly. Take as long as you like out there. There’s a journal penned in Tikaya’s hand that points out some of our favorite spots along with their latitude and longitude. Do read the entries before deciding on one. A handful would be suitable for… vacationing, but some are favorite spots because of the archaeologically significant finds she located there, beaches full of cannibals wearing finger-bone necklaces not withstanding. Ah, but I’m rambling. You’ll figure it out on your own.” He patted Sicarius on the shoulder and headed toward the bier, where more people were gathering in preparation for the ceremony.