Forged in Blood II (26 page)

Starcrest might have been listening earlier, but he lifted a hand toward Books as soon as his gaze encompassed those on the landing. His wife and daughter specifically, Amaranthe guessed, and stepped to the side when he surged ahead, long legs swallowing the remaining meters of catwalk. A wise decision, for she might have been flattened otherwise.

Starcrest enveloped Tikaya in a long fierce hug, then extended the embrace to his daughter as well. “That was quite an explosion,” he said, striving for casual commentary, though his hoarse voice betrayed his feelings. Amaranthe belatedly realized how the destruction of the
Behemoth
must have appeared to those watching from the ground. From what little she’d seen, packed into the back of that lifeboat, it had been fiery, orange, and enormous in the late afternoon sky. Starcrest must have wondered if his wife had escaped the explosion. “I can only assume the trench-immersion plan was abandoned in favor of a more… complete method?”

“Mother found the immolation button,” Mahliki said dryly.

Books gripped Amaranthe’s arm and pulled her up onto the landing with him and Sespian. He gave her a hug, too, then stood her out at arm’s length to eye her from head to toe. “We’re relieved you survived and seem to be intact.”

Sespian lifted an arm, as if he might offer a hug too, but he settled for gripping her shoulder.

“I’m intact
too
.” Maldynado propped a fist on his hip.

“Yes, we’re relieved to see you well too,” Books said.

Maldynado squinted suspiciously, expecting some sarcastic addition perhaps, but Books only patted him on the back.

“Everyone in Stumps stopped fighting to stare at the sky,” Sespian said. “It dwarfed the manmade explosions in the mountains and in the city.”

“Yes, I was wondering if anyone here knew anything about those…”

Starcrest hadn’t finished with his reunion—he’d switched to putting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and asking her a couple of quiet questions—so Amaranthe looked to Ridgecrest instead. The one-eyed general was leaning against the railing, his arms folded across his chest, the accompanying frown making it an aggressive posture. He grunted at Amaranthe’s comment, but didn’t offer anything more conclusive.

“Come,” Starcrest said, pulling Tikaya and Mahliki onto the landing and pointing toward an office door. “We have much to discuss.”

As the group filed into the office, Books walked beside Amaranthe and whispered, “I’ve been telling him
all
about my treatise.”

“Has he been listening?” she asked.

“In between reports from his men, yes.”

One of those men thundered up the stairs behind the group, pushing Amaranthe and the others aside to reach Starcrest. “My lord!” The young man’s heels clacked together and he thumped his fist to his chest.

Starcrest’s hand twitched, as if he meant to return the salute, but he stopped himself, opening his palm instead. “Yes?”

Though he’d found a pair of black army fatigues that fit him, he was neither in the military any more
nor
a Turgonian subject. Nobody should have been saluting or “my lord”ing him, but none of the soldiers Amaranthe had crossed while in his presence acted as if these missing credentials mattered.

“Captain Greencrest reports that the—” for the first time he glanced at all the additional people in the room, “—the
items
have been secured in their new location.”

“Thank you, Private. Let Colonel Stonecrest know.”

“Yes, my lord.” The private spun on his heel and rushed out.

“Items?” Ridgecrest rumbled. “He talking about the rice?”

“I assume so,” Starcrest said.

Amaranthe perked. “We saw the granaries blow up. The professor suggested that might be… is that our doing? And if so,
why
?” She didn’t manage to keep all of the anguish out of her voice, though she told herself to be patient and wait for an explanation.

“You saw it?” Starcrest tilted his head curiously. “From the ship?”

“We’ve seen a lot,” Tikaya said, “and collected a great deal of data on troop positioning, movements, and… allies. Rather I should say, Corporal Lokdon did. I was searching for that—” she glanced at her daughter, “—immolation button.”

Mahliki had been stealing glances at Sespian, but marshaled her attention to the conversation at her mother’s look. Amaranthe shrugged off her rucksack and dug out the journal full of notes she’d made. She handed it to Starcrest.

He accepted it and waved to the chairs. “Sit. Let me get you caught up.”

That “you” was more for his wife, Amaranthe sensed, but his wave did include her and Maldynado. They dragged chairs around the tables, and she ended up between Sespian and Books. Good, if Starcrest didn’t answer her questions, she could interrogate them for details. If the jog was an indicator, they’d insinuated themselves into the inner circle.

“We are responsible for the explosions at the aqueducts, the granaries, the freighter docks, and two of the main railroads,” Starcrest said. “It will appear to the public that food stores and water supplies have been devastated. We
did
destroy the main lines by which more food can be brought into Stumps, though the railways were attacked in such a way that repairs should not be extensive for a competent team of combat engineers. The Blue Bluff Bridge was in abysmal condition anyway and wouldn’t have passed an inspection
I
led.”

Amaranthe couldn’t believe that in the middle of admitting to being responsible for all of this destruction, he sounded genuinely affronted at the condition of the bridge, a bridge he’d ordered blown up. Or blew up in person. What exactly had he been doing in the night and day her team had been gone?

“
Appear
?” Maldynado asked, his usual baritone on the squeaky side.

“The food in the granaries was moved overnight, before the explosions, and it is safe,” Starcrest said. “The aqueducts were not, in fact, damaged, insofar as their capabilities to deliver water. We blew up the
auxiliary
line, which is widely believed to be the main and only line, and have only temporarily dammed the flow.”

“How do you know that wasn’t the main line?” Amaranthe remembered her thought that Sicarius, having been part of the team that had researched the underground water passages for their mission the year before, had told Flintcrest. But if Flintcrest and Sicarius had had nothing to do with all this… “That’s secret information, I understand. Or…” She faced Sespian. “Did you know about it?”

“You’d be amazed at how little I
do
know—” Sespian rubbed his head, perhaps remembering his months of being drugged, “—insofar as imperial secrets go. Raumesys didn’t share as much with me as you’d think. I wonder now if he somehow knew, all along, that I wasn’t… Well, no, that’s unlikely, or he would have killed me.”

Amaranthe patted his arm, though she returned her attention to Starcrest.

“My fourth-year engineering professor at the military academy designed the current aqueduct system,” he said. “I was one of his student assistants at the time and was much honored to be chosen to help. In the beginning, I assumed I’d be running calculations for him and double-checking his work. Instead, I learned quite a bit about… excavation that semester. I did, however, manage to have myself removed from the laborious assignment, inadvertently I assure you, by presuming to make a few field improvements to the Model 4L Steam Shovel. To this day, I maintain that my improvements made it more efficient. And powerful. Had the operator simply allowed me to instruct him in the changes to a few key controls… Well, it’s not my fault he refused to take advice from a seventeen-year-old boy. He—”

Tikaya touched his arm. “In most circumstances, I wouldn’t interrupt your enthused rambles, love, but these folks are waiting for an explanation as to why
you
, a presumably loyal imperial man despite your years in exile, are blowing up important parts of the city’s infrastructure. I, too, am curious.”

Rias cleared his throat, the faintest tinge of red brightening his cheeks. “Yes, forgive me.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “We do not have the forces to combat anyone in a straightforward confrontation, so we must use guerrilla methods. Every one of our opponents must protect the city, otherwise they’ll win a poor prize should they come out on top. Each knowing that the other wants an intact capital to take over, I’m guessing they will suspect some outside invasion force is responsible for the destruction.”

Amaranthe nodded. Hadn’t she herself thought along those lines?

“Unless they’re self-absorbed idiots, they’ll recognize the need to stop these attacks. They’ll either band together, to deal with this unknown enemy, or they’ll attempt to solve the problems on their own. They cannot, however, afford to ignore the threat. The citizens… Thus far, most of the citizens have been hiding indoors, letting the various armies fight amongst themselves, but they’ll no longer be willing to be bystanders once the food and water threat is revealed. Thus our enemies will have problems to deal with on two fronts. Our guerrilla attacks, at which we are not lingering around to address opposition, will force them to place troops at strategic points. Also, the citizens will demand a resolution sooner rather than later, giving our opponents people at their backs with whom to deal.”

Sespian and Books were nodding, so they must have already heard all of this and come to accept the plan. Tikaya’s frown was more dubious, but she didn’t protest aloud. She might be the kind to wait until she was in private with her husband to accuse him of megalomaniacal lunacy.

No, not megalomaniacal, Amaranthe admitted. Just… shifty. If she was honest with herself, it sounded like a plan
she
would come up with. All right, it was a bit grander in scale than most of her plans, but still.

“What will we be doing while all this is going on?” she asked. “Or are all of our—
your
—troops busy with the guerrilla attacks?”

“Our troops,” Starcrest said, extending a hand toward Sespian and Ridgecrest. “Many of them are busy planning further mayhem, albeit doing as little genuine damage as possible, to keep our opponents running around with blankets, trying to swat out the fires. But assassins have been striking at the Company of Lords as well as Forge operatives. I’ve dispatched a team to check on—”

A knocked sounded at the door.

“Come,” Starcrest called.

Four natty soldiers in pressed uniforms marched into the room, their rifles gripped in front of them in perfect parade configuration. A bald man with heavy jowls, walked between them, a rumpled dressing gown sweeping about his ankles. His fur-lined boots were the only piece of clothing appropriate to the cold night. Alarming, since he couldn’t have been less than eighty years old.

Amaranthe didn’t recognize him, but from the way Sespian stirred in his chair, she thought she should.

“Books?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

“Lord Delvar Markcrest,” Books replied, “one of the senior members in the Company of Lords.”

“Lord Markcrest,” Starcrest said. “I’m glad you could make it to—”

“
Make
it? As if I had a choice. I’ll not vote for you, I don’t care which one you are.”

“I’m not… any of them, my lord,” Starcrest said. “I learned that you and your brethren were being targeted—”

“Targeted? Seven of my colleagues are already dead,” Markcrest growled. “That I know about.”

“That is why we’re offering refuge for those who remain. I wish you to take the first train north. I’ve sent word to my brother in the countryside, and he’ll board you at Ravenwood Estate until the smoke clears down here.” Starcrest nodded toward the soldiers. “Continue your mission, please.”

“Yes, my lord.” They thumped their fists to their chests and marched out.

“Ravenwood Estate?” Markcrest’s forehead wrinkled, as if he were trying to dredge something from his memory. He peered more closely at Starcrest. “You aren’t… are you… General Kreg Starcrest’s boy?”

Starcrest blinked. It must have been a long time since someone referred to him as his father’s son. “Yes, sir.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and nobody spoke. It was doubtlessly only in Amaranthe’s mind that Starcrest stood taller, trying to look worthy in the older man’s eyes.

“I’ve only recently returned from… exile,” Starcrest said. “We’re attempting to find a resolution to this mess that’s been created. We want to work
with
the Company of Lords, not against it.”

“I should hope so,” Markcrest snapped, though much of his anger had faded.

“Joth,” Starcrest asked Ridgecrest, “can you take him down to the cafeteria? See to his needs? Lord Markcrest, I’ll come down and talk to you shortly.”

Ridgecrest bowed his head and ushered their guest out.

As soon as the door shut, Amaranthe blurted, “You’re kidnapping people.” Everyone stared at her. “My lord,” she added.

“You don’t approve?” Starcrest tilted his head, his lips twitching in… was that bemusement? “This morning, at her bequest, I met the prisoner
you
instructed to be kidnapped.”

“Er, yes,” Amaranthe said. “I mean, no. I don’t disapprove, given the desperate nature of these times, and, ah…” Erg, why was everyone still staring at her? “It’s just that you’re Fleet Admiral Starcrest. I wasn’t expecting you to be—” she cut off before uttering “just like me” or, worse, “as crazy as I am.” After all, she hadn’t achieved
quite
what he had with her unorthodox problem-solving style, and he wasn’t some scummy outlaw in the eyes of most of the population. Some unfairness in that, she decided. He
was
exiled—wasn’t that every bit as bad as being an outlaw?—yet nobody cared.

Tikaya leaned against her husband’s arm. “She expected you to play fair, love.”

“Oh,” Starcrest said, drawing out the syllable. “Well, I wouldn’t have lived past thirty if I made a habit of doing that. How would one win a battle against superior man- and firepower if one stuck to common and acceptable wartime practices?”

“Uh.” Amaranthe winced at her lack of eloquence. “I understand. But I’d thought, you being a Turgonian hero…” She stopped herself before she devolved into whining. She would not, for the sake of herself and her ancestors, stand there and sulk about how everyone considered him a hero for apparently using the same tactics that made her an outlaw. “Your tactics aren’t what I expected, my lord, but I’m sure they’ll get results. In fact, you seem to have your thumb on the pulse of… everything.” Had they truly only been gone for twenty-four hours? He’d been
busy
. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a few of my men and go…” She met Books’s and Sespian’s eyes. “Flintcrest has Sicarius. No, Flintcrest’s Nurian
wizard
has Sicarius. With some kind of magical control device.” She tapped her temple. “He’s being forced to work for him. There are… a bunch of pikes in Flintcrest’s camp with severed heads mounted on them.”