The Emperor's Edge

The Emperor's Edge Ch. 4

The next night found Amaranthe hunkered in the shadows between two snowy hills overlooking the lake trail. Beyond the banks, elevated fire pits illuminated men sawing blocks of ice out of the frozen water. Their clinks and clanks carried to the shore. Since their harvest season was short, they would work through the night, but Amaranthe did not think she needed to worry about the men. As long as things didn’t get too noisy, they were too far out to notice an assassination on the trail.

Just as she started to rise, a trio of soldiers jogged around the bend. They wore black fatigues, boots, and heavy rucksacks with muskets and swords strapped to their backs.

She crouched low again, hugging the shadows.

Fort Urgot stood sentinel a couple miles north of the city, and it wasn’t uncommon to see soldiers training after dark during the short winter days. If they saw her, they would stop to ask her about the repeating crossbow strapped to her back. Carrying weapons wasn’t illegal, but using them outside of practice or a duel was, and this wasn’t a likely spot for either.

The soldiers jogged into a tunnel carved through a granite outcropping.

Once she was sure they were gone, Amaranthe skidded down the slope and over a mound of crusty snow left by the steam plows. Sand coated the icy trail, offering traction for her boots. Everyone from soldiers to enforcers to athletes training for the rings used the twenty-mile lake route, and the city maintained it year around.

She trotted into the tunnel, the crossbow bumping against her back. A gas lamp on the wall illuminated the interior. This was the only covered spot on the trail, and no ice obscured the surface. She knelt and ran a gloved finger across the packed red earth.

The bracelet the emperor had given her slipped from beneath her parka sleeve. He had suggested she wear it for luck. She could use more than luck, but she was wearing it—and had etched her name on the plaque—so whoever found her body could identify it.

“All right, girl,” she whispered to herself. “No thinking like that.”

She lifted her hand and examined the red dust on the finger of the glove. Yes, it was exactly like the smudge on Sicarius’s boot.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through her body. If he showed up tonight, she was supposed to kill him.

Not ‘supposed to,’ Amaranthe, you will kill him.

She grimaced. She wasn’t a killer, not even close. She had never even fatally wounded a criminal in the line of duty. Yet, she was planning to intentionally shoot a crossbow quarrel into someone’s chest, in cold blood. Without a doubt, Sicarius deserved it, but...

“Why couldn’t he have been an ass to me last night?” Amaranthe muttered.

The man had been a thousand miles from friendly, but he hadn’t hurt her, threatened her, or even sniffed disdainfully at her. This would have been easier if he had.

“Maybe it’s not supposed to be easy,” she said, adjusting her crossbow and walking out of the tunnel on the other side. “Maybe my chance for promotion is meant to be a great test. Maybe Hollowcrest isn’t doing anything nefarious to the emperor, and I’m not a fool for doing his bidding. And maybe, I shouldn’t be talking to myself.”

Shaking her head, Amaranthe climbed off the trail, following one of dozens of narrow foot paths packed into the snow. If it was possible Sicarius was in town to assassinate the emperor, she would not be doing the world a disservice to kill him tonight. She had to believe that.

Her path ran parallel to the main trail, leading up a hill overlooking the tunnel. The elevated position offered a clear line to someone exiting.

Beyond the hill, apple trees rose, icicles draping skeletal branches, but she stopped before she reached them. Several snow-blanketed bushes dotted the top of the incline, offering good cover. Someone running out of the lit tunnel would already have trouble seeing into the dark, and the shrubbery would doubly hide her.