“Huh?”
Maldynado pointed toward a section of the railway where several tracks converged and split off, heading in different directions. “If the train’s going to turn south and into the city, someone needs to pull the switch.”
“Maybe we’re not going to the city.”
“Where else would we go?”
Akstyr shrugged. “A different city?”
“Obervosk?” Maldynado asked, naming the next closest population center to the east. “Why? There’s nothing going on there except pit mining and orchards. Besides that’s not on the official itinerary.”
“Neither was stopping to pick up secret weapons.”
Basilard squeezed in beside Akstyr and Maldynado to poke his head through the trapdoor opening. He yawned, rubbed an eye, and peered about. They had passed the switch and were barreling through the training grounds around Fort Urgot. Rows of trees edged the fields, dropping their red and orange leaves onto mud marked by vehicle tires and thousands of boots.
Basilard signed, We go to the army fort?
“Nah,” Maldynado said. “I’m sure we’re just passing through.”
Passing through to where?
While Maldynado pondered an answer, the rumble of the train grew less pronounced. The wheels were slowing.
The walls of Fort Urgot came into view. Running east to west, the railway passed north of the water tower and the army installation itself, but a depot station waited ahead. A pair of black lorries, their stacks sending plumes of smoke into the crisp morning air, idled before a warehouse with a loading dock.
Though Akstyr didn’t see any companies out for morning exercises yet, he decided it was light enough that some bright-eyed sentry might be able to see heads poking out of the top of the train, so he sank back down, out of view. The other two men joined him. Maldynado sat down hard, a stunned expression on his face.
“Did we thump up the wrong men?” he asked. “Are the blokes we threw from the train working for the army?”
“If we did, we might be in trouble once they wander back to civilization,” Akstyr said. “Especially if they’ve got broken bones and stuff. They’ll be madder than a Caymay fiend who got his sniff stolen.”
“Emperor’s warts.” Maldynado rubbed his face. “If Amaranthe and the others tracked the weapons to their source, I hope they didn’t do anything they’ll regret.”
“I don’t think Sicarius regrets anything, ever,” Akstyr said.
Basilard waved for their attention. Why would civilians be making weapons for the army?
“Somebody’s gotta make them,” Maldynado said. “The army has contracts with all sorts of civilian companies for everything from tins of food to blankets to steam vehicles. But if everything is legitimate, I don’t know why the manufacturing facility would be out in the hills or why there’d be all that secrecy during the loading.”
Perhaps the army doesn’t wish enemy spies to learn of their new weapons, Basilard signed.
“Can’t be that secret if the train is stopping at the depot beside the fort,” Akstyr said.
Maldynado stuck his head outside again briefly. “It’s in plain sight of the fort, but there’s not anyone around to watch the train.”
“That’s because it’s early.”
We have often jogged past the fort at this time of the morning, Basilard signed. Soldiers are usually out early doing exercises.
“Is it a holiday?” Akstyr couldn’t remember. Though Amaranthe was open to giving the men time off, Sicarius usually made them train in the mornings anyway, so Akstyr didn’t pay much attention to imperial holidays.
The train’s steam brakes squealed. Akstyr poked his head outside, though he kept his shoulders low. Voices sounded by the loading dock, but he couldn’t make them out over the rumble of the engine. A couple of cars down, a wooden L-shaped arm hung over the train for transferring mailbags, but nothing dangled from it now. This was a delivery run, not a pickup.
Maldynado crawled past Akstyr, keeping his head down as he eased onto the roof. “Let’s see who’s picking these weapons up.”
Akstyr shrugged and wriggled onto the roof beside him.
As the train came to a stop, two men stepped out of the closest lorry. One wore black fatigue trousers and jacket, typical workday wear for a soldier, though a brass emblem on his matching gray cap meant he was an officer, a high-ranking one if the amount of brass was any indication. Gray mixed with the brown in his hair, but he had the sort of chiseled jaw and rugged looks that women liked, and Akstyr promptly hated him for that. The man had an arrogant tilt to his chin too. In fact, he looked like an older, stuffier version of Maldynado.
The man at the officer’s side might have been a soldier too-his white hair was cut short in the military style-but he wore plain black clothing without a hint of insignia or ornament. While he waited for the train, he pulled out a wicked trench knife with brass knuckles incorporated into the handle and the sort of three-edged blade that tore a man up so much that surgeons couldn’t easily fix him. A crescent-moon-shaped scar cupped the bottom of his right eye.
The officer said something to him, then headed to the front of the train where the engineer was climbing down. Akstyr flattened himself to the roof to stay out of sight. Maldynado was already flat, his eyes rounder than cannon balls.
“That bastard looks like an older version of Sicarius,” Akstyr whispered, figuring Maldynado had made the connection too.
“That bastard is my brother.”
“Uh, are we talking about the same bastard?” Akstyr asked before realizing Maldynado must be referring to the officer, not the man in black.
Maldynado shook his head as much as he could with his cheek plastered to the roof of the rail car. “I don’t know the other one, but the officer is Ravido, my eldest brother. He made general last year, and, last I heard, was the fort commander at Averkorke down south.”
“What’s he doing up here?”
“I don’t know. My kin haven’t seen a need to keep me abreast of the latest familial developments.”
“Because you’re disowned?” Akstyr asked.
“No, because I forgot to leave a forwarding address for my mail.”
Tension tightened Maldynado’s eyes, a stark contrast to his usual insouciant mien. Akstyr didn’t know anything about Maldynado’s family or even what his surname was. Maybe he had a whole passel of older brothers who used to beat him up when he was a boy. Akstyr did not find that notion unpleasant.
Metal scraped, and a door rolled open a few cars away-the men checking on the weapons.
“Where’s the delivery team?” someone with a resonant baritone asked. That had to be Ravido. He even sounded like Maldynado.
Akstyr lifted his head again so he could see. The two men had disappeared into the rail car. Akstyr chewed on his lip and tried to remember if he, Basilard, and Maldynado had lifted up the crates next to the bodies to clean up blood that might have seeped under them. They hadn’t anticipated a military inspection.
Someone tapped on Akstyr’s shoulder. Basilard. He lay on his belly and signed, Anything suspicious?
“Maldynado’s brother is accepting delivery of the weapons,” Akstyr whispered.
I meant, have they found anything suspicious in the car? Basilard glanced at Maldynado who had his head down, buried beneath his hands. Though that information is surprising too.
Before Akstyr could respond, Ravido hollered, “Corporal Mitts!”
A man hustled out of the second lorry and ran up to peer into the rail car. “Yes, sir?”
“Get your team in here and take inventory. I want a complete report on my desk. If anything’s missing, Jovak better be prepared to replace it, or Wolf Company’s next training exercise is going to be headhunting the thieving, bottom-rung workers that hopped out of this train.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Looks like we’re not going to get in trouble,” Akstyr whispered.
As long as they don’t search the train, Basilard signed.
“And as long as Amaranthe and the others didn’t do anything to tear up things on the other end,” Maldynado said. “The last thing we want is to pick a fight with the army.” He slithered back through the open trapdoor and disappeared inside the car.