Darkness stretched across a harvested cornfield on the backside of the train, and the night air smelled of damp earth and freshly cut plant matter. Sicarius stopped behind the coal car and hopped onto the connector. After checking in both directions, he glided into a harvested cornfield on the opposite side, a cornfield in full view of the loading dock and the men working there.
His willingness to stride into the open surprised Amaranthe, but nobody raised an alarm. Indeed, she soon lost sight of Sicarius herself. The moon had set, and clouds blotted out most of the stars, leaving visibility poor.
Amaranthe gave Books a “let’s go” pat, hopped over the coupling, and eased out from between the cars. After a glance to make sure Books was following and none of the workers were looking in their direction, she took the same route Sicarius had.
Fifteen meters away, the workers continued to load the weapons. Amaranthe took careful steps down a row in the harvested cornfield. Though common sense told her the workers’ eyes would be night-blind after being near the light, she felt vulnerable with nothing more than the six-inch-high stalk remains offering concealment. Sneaking should only be done in mature, un-harvested cornfields, she decided.
Every time dry foliage crunched beneath her or Books’s boots, Amaranthe winced, but none of the workers looked their way. Whoever this group was, they seemed confident that nobody was around to witness their cargo being loaded.
Once she had put twenty or thirty meters between her and the tracks, Amaranthe paused, looking for Sicarius.
Books tapped her on the shoulder and, apparently of a similar mind, whispered, “Where’d he go?”
Amaranthe could only offer a vague, “That way, probably.”
She turned parallel to the tracks, stepping over the rows of corn stubble and heading toward the back of the depot building. They reached its protective shadow without trouble. Amaranthe poked her head around the far corner as the lorry closest to the freight cars started up. It headed straight toward her, following the road that led past the depot and into the fields from whence it had come.
Amaranthe jumped back from the corner. The wall did not offer any alcoves or decorative architectural features that would create shadows for hiding in.
The lorry rumbled closer, and its twin running lanterns pushed back the darkness near the road.
“Suck it in,” Amaranthe whispered and pressed herself against the back of the building.
“It’s sucked,” Books responded.
She hoped the vehicle would drive past and disappear down the road, but it parked not ten feet away, the cab and the two men inside fully visible to Amaranthe. If they turned their heads in her direction…
Worried about discovery, she almost decided to dart out of hiding and slip into the back of the lorry, hoping she’d make it before anyone noticed her. But the second vehicle was being directed into position for unloading now, and there were too many people with far too many lanterns glowing in the area.
“Back the way we came,” Amaranthe whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Slowly.”
With Books leading this time, they eased back toward the far side of the building.
“Now where?” he asked when they reached the corner.
“Out into the field.” Amaranthe pointed diagonally away from the building and away from the lorry. “We’ll go out there and angle around to the road. We’ll have to catch one of the lorries as it’s driving away.”
“Jump onto the back of a moving vehicle?” Books asked. “That sounds perilous.”
“We’ve been doing worse on the train all week. It’ll be easy.”
Easy might be an optimistic word, but Amaranthe had to sound confident in front of her team. Speaking of her team, where was Sicarius? Had he already slipped into one of the lorries?
After waiting another moment to see if he would appear, Amaranthe said, “This way.”
She led the way into the field before circling toward the road. She wished she could find a drainage ditch or a small depression that would hide them, but nothing other than the harvested rows presented itself. They would have to drop to their bellies when the lorries passed and hope nobody with keen eyes was watching the sides of the road.
Amaranthe knelt to wait on the final stages of the loading. When Books sank down beside her, she asked, “Any idea where we are?”
“Besides in a cold, dark field?”
“Yes.”
“There are a couple of possibilities for an abandoned railway stub in Agricultural District…” Books peered toward the mountains. “Is this Three?”
“That’s what Sicarius said.”
“Ah, then we’re within fifty miles north or south of the byway we took into the mountains last spring. This might be the old Archcrest Plantation. Several warrior-caste landowners with timber or agricultural properties had railway stubs run onto their property when the lines were first being built last century. The last Archcrest heir died in the Western Sea Conflict a generation ago, and the land reverted to the empire until such time that a distinguished soldier earns entry into the warrior caste. This being rather fertile land so close to the capital, though, it’s being reserved for someone extremely noteworthy.” Books craned his neck, peering in all sorts of directions now. “I wonder if the old Archcrest manor is still around. Did you know that family’s history goes all the way back to the Battle of Aquenerfarus when the empire routed the native civilization by the lake? The history books pretend they were primitive clans, but-”
Amaranthe cleared her throat as loudly as she dared. “So, your answer is, ‘Yes, we’re probably on the Archcrest Plantation.’”
“Er, correct.”
The workers raised the gate on the second lorry and dropped the flap, apparently finished unloading cargo. To Amaranthe’s surprise, the men who had been at the depot when the train first rolled in grabbed weapons and rucksacks and climbed into the rail car. Eight men in all. The last one pulled the rolling door shut from within.
“That might not be good,” Amaranthe whispered.
“Let’s hope they stay in that car and that the others are able to avoid them,” Books said.
“Let’s hope they’re smart enough to avoid them.” Amaranthe knew Basilard would not be a problem, but Akstyr did have a tendency to make reckless choices now and then, and Maldynado would probably smirk and let him.
“Would you be?” Books asked.
Amaranthe frowned at him.
“I simply meant that you’d probably want to spy on them for information,” Books said. “Stroll in and chat with them perhaps.”
“Oh, please, I haven’t done anything that imprudent in ages.”
“Hm.”
“Two months at least,” Amaranthe amended. In part because of the lecture Books had given her that summer, she’d been trying to make more thoughtful, wiser choices when it came to dealing with the opposition. She did still have a tendency toward… impulsive actions. Like hopping off a perfectly good train in the middle of the night to-
“They’re coming,” Books said.
Amaranthe dropped to her belly, keeping her head just high enough to see over the rows of corn stubble. Books stretched out next to her.
The first lorry was rolling away from the depot, and the remaining two men climbed into the cab of the second. Amaranthe eyed the cargo bed on the back vehicle. That’d be the most likely place to hop on and stow away.
As the men were closing the doors, a shadow moved at the back of the second lorry. If Amaranthe hadn’t been staring right at the spot, she would have missed it, and, even so, it was gone so quickly she almost thought it her imagination, but she knew it wasn’t.
Sicarius was aboard. Now it was time for her and Books to join him.
The first lorry approached their position. Amaranthe lowered her head until dirt scraped at her chin. The vehicle bumped and rattled past on the weed-choked road without slowing. In fact, she was surprised-and concerned-with how fast the lorry was moving. Catching up and jumping aboard would be a challenge. She pressed her palms into the damp earth, ready to spring up as soon as the second vehicle drew even with her and Books.