The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 13 Pt. 2

Back against the door, Amaranthe stared around the small room, seeking inspiration. A single candle burned on top of the cistern on the opposite wall. A few feet below it, the wash-out squatted, its ceramic bowl embossed with flowers. The room was a perfectly functional place to pee and a perfectly useless place for plotting an escape.

At least she was in a less condemning place than she had been for the last hour. With no better alternative, Amaranthe pushed open the door and stepped out, abandoning her attempts at stealth.

“...don’t know,” came Maldynado’s voice, now distinguishable. “She said the blood was making her sick.”

Emperor’s warts, he was trying to explain her absence. She shut the water closet door loudly, to ensure it would be heard. Going along with his story, she dropped a hand onto her stomach and hunched over. She shuffled forward, sculpting her face into an expression of discomfort.

“A shame,” responded a cool masculine voice. “One expects a stronger stomach from an imperial woman. We are a nation born of warriors after all.”

Amaranthe recognized the voice at the same time as she entered the foyer. Arbitan and Larocka were facing Maldynado at the top of the basement stairs. The scarred security man also stood in the room, muscled arms folded across his chest. Though pale beneath the light of the chandelier, Maldynado portrayed little of the nervousness that had to lurk in his thoughts.

Amaranthe wiped the alarm off her face as the Forge folks turned toward her.

“Now, now,” Larocka said, “there’s no need to be snide, dear. Some women are more interested in numbers than war.” She smiled at Amaranthe, who could not tell if genuine warmth backed the gesture. Doubtful.

“I’m sorry to have been gone so long,” Amaranthe said in a raspy voice she hoped connoted illness.

“Apology accepted, my dear.” The pleasure Maldynado exuded at her approach seemed unfeigned.

That security man regarded her with narrowed-eyed suspicion again. Maybe that was his usual expression. Either way, it did not inspire one to linger. A wild part of Amaranthe wanted to stay and stir up a conversation with the couple, see what she could learn about them, but she had already drawn far more attention than was safe. Also, she suspected Arbitan might learn more about her than she did about him.

“We must be going, dear,” she said to Maldynado.

“I was saying just the same thing,” he said, “a half hour ago. Women—what they do in the water closet for so long is beyond me.” He tossed an aggrieved brotherhood-of-men look at Arbitan, who did not acknowledge it with anything more than a chilly stare.

Amaranthe stepped on Maldynado’s foot as she sidled out the door. He winced but managed a goodnight for the hosts as he backed out.

“Do come again,” Larocka said.

The door thudded shut. Outside, the lanterns burning along the walkway allowed Amaranthe to read the incredulous expression Maldynado fixed on her as they walked.

“Where were you for that long?” he asked.

“Exploring,” Amaranthe said. “You could have left without me.”

“Hah! You need a keeper to watch over you.” He paused, face twisting with displeasure. “I sound like my mother.”

“Careful, you may turn into a responsible fellow.”

“Never!” His ferocity startled her. He cleared his throat. “No responsibility for old Maldynado,” he added in a lighter tone.

They turned off the walkway and onto the wide street. Stars glittered in the clear night sky, and their breaths fogged the air. Infrequent streetlights burned, more like beacons to guide one from point to point than lamps illuminating the darkness. Hedges, thick and dense despite a lack of leaves, lined one side of the street.