Diplomats and Fugitives (The Emperor's Edge Book 9) (52 page)

“Out of curiosity,” she added, because he had turned back toward Basilard and she burned with more questions. She asked the most pertinent one. “Am I still a citizen, or does that depend on whether I accept the offer?”

“I’ll check with the finance office, but I believe it depends more on whether you start paying taxes or not.”

Ashara was trying to decide if that was a joke or not when Basilard smiled at her and signed,
You’ll definitely be needing a job.

“You too, Basilard,” Starcrest said. “Same offer. A job and citizenship here if you want it. I’m willing to throw in a signing bonus, a shipment of food to your people to help them get along until their trees have healed. You can put your name on it, so they know who they have to thank for it.” Starcrest’s brief smile had a wolfish quality to it.

Basilard lifted his hands, but they hung in the air as he groped for the words he wanted.

“If you don’t want citizenship,” Starcrest said, “I’m not opposed to employing a foreigner, but you would have to swear an oath of fealty to the office for the term of your employment.”

Basilard’s smile faded, and he gazed out the window. His nation had turned its back on him, but it still was not an easy decision, to renounce one’s citizenship. Ashara understood.

I accept
, Basilard finally signed.

“Good. I should warn you that keeping the job requires that you perform adequately for your supervisor,” Starcrest added, glancing at Ashara too.

Supervisor?

Once again, Starcrest looked toward the silent statue in the back of the room.

Sicarius
would be their supervisor? He had wanted to leave Ashara to the vultures when he had been tracking Tladik.

“She may insist they cause explosions in order to receive optimal marks,” Sicarius said in a deadpan voice.

“I thought she was doing less of that now,” Starcrest said.

“She doesn’t always mention the explosions in her reports.” Sicarius’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly in censure. “And she cleans up her mess afterward.”

“That I believe. My wife says she starts organizing the clutter on her desk any time she reports to the intelligence office.”

Who are they talking about?
Ashara signed to Basilard, since his eyes were twinkling. He couldn’t be as mystified as she was.

Amaranthe.

Is she Sicarius’s supervisor?
Ashara had gotten the sense that they were friends and maybe lovers—though it was hard to imagine the taciturn assassin with a
lover
—but she wouldn’t have guessed that Amaranthe outranked him.

The idea maker
. Basilard winked, then added,
You realize everyone in this room can understand these signs, right?

Ashara noticed that Sicarius and Starcrest were looking in her direction now and flushed.
Yes, of course. I didn’t want to interrupt their talking.
And maybe she had hoped to appear less foolish by sneaking in the question just for Basilard…

“It’s good that you’ve learned his hand language so quickly,” Starcrest said. “You can work together on missions.”

Ashara met Basilard’s eyes. She might not have decided anything yet, but the idea of working with him had a certain appeal.

Starcrest tapped a decorative ship’s chronometer sitting on the corner of his desk, then headed for the door. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have a meeting with some diplomats.” The look he gave Ashara wasn’t anything as blatant as a wink, but something about the way his eyelids shifted made her certain he was on his way to see Shukura. Would he perhaps deal with him in such a manner that he wouldn’t bother her again?

She hoped that was the case. But either way, she would have to retrieve Jiana and Khanrin soon. She couldn’t leave them where they might be harmed because of work she did here.

“Are there people here who watch after children?” she found herself wondering aloud, as it occurred to her that this agent job the president had in mind might entail her leaving the city for extended periods of time. Back home, her mother-in-law could have been counted on for taking care of the children, but who did she have here?

A young shriek, followed by an excited string of words in Nurian echoed through the door Starcrest had left open when he walked out. A black-haired girl raced down the hallway, waving a meterstick like a sword. Ashara leaned out to see who her victim was. The girl was charging after Starcrest himself, who pretended he didn’t hear the attack coming until the last moment. Then he turned and swooped up his assailant, tactfully disarming her while depositing her on his shoulders for a ride. She giggled amenably, grabbing his head for a handhold. They disappeared around a corner.

“The wooden sword would not have been an inappropriate gift,” Sicarius said. “She seems more inclined to battle than artistry.”

Sespian will be disappointed,
Basilard signed.

“Parents don’t always get the children they expect, but that is not grounds for disappointment.”

You’re right
, Basilard signed.
Ashara, there are many people here who can watch after children. The Starcrests, in particular, seem to adopt anyone who enters their orbit. I believe they feel the need now that their children are mostly grown.

The idea of having the president of Turgonia as a babysitter had a mind-numbing effect, and Ashara did not know how to respond.

“Come,” Sicarius said and strode for the door.

“Where are we going?” Ashara glanced at Basilard, who shrugged back.

“To begin your training.”

Basilard did not have the ability to vocalize a groan, but from the expression on his face, she was fairly certain he wanted to.

THE END